#Peace Love Shea

[witchklng]

tagged by @thegreatblondebalrogslayer ily ♡

lockscreen, last song played, and last photo saved

tagging @antifarichietozier @dying-suffering-french-stalkers @oretsev @seriowan @baba-fett @thefact0rygirl @daffodelia @nimikyu @pianocarnival @wicclan ♡ ♡ ♡

[virtues-end]

rereading the characters' descriptions and how come I only now learned Shea's hair is curly.. Have you ever drawn them with their hair down?:eyes:

I used to have it described as 'wavy' but I was like y'know what, they deserve to have curls <3

I've drawn them with loose hair before but that was before the aforementioned change so it wasn't very curly, just slightly wavy at best:

[sickeninglyshoujo]

a/n: continually obsessed w/ cod dads, here's price

part 1: simon here

part 3: soap here

part 4: gaz here

masterlist here

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 1.7k

buy me a ko-fi

Price was afraid to have babies with you because of the age difference and you rolled your eyes every time he talked about being an old man and how a pretty young thing like you shouldn’t be dating him much less trying to get knocked up by someone his age. As if he’d let you even entertain the thought of leaving him for a young buck who couldn’t spoil you like you deserved.

Throughout your pregnancy he treated you like fine China, afraid he’d say the wrong thing and make you cry. He’s heard about women’s hormones during pregnancy even as you remained rock solid, rolling your eyes when he’d ‘yes dear’ you.

You tried to kick him out of the bathroom when morning sickness hit and he refused. Instead sitting on the tub next to you, petting your back as you leaned into the toilet and tried to soothe you, telling you how strong you were and how beautiful you were carrying his baby even with sick bubbling up your throat at the slightest movement “I thought morning sickness was only supposed to be in the morning,” you moaned with your forehead pressed against the cool floor tile. “It’’s a misnomer, love,” John said, removing himself from his perch on the tub to wet a cool washcloth and wipe down your face.

He wishes this phase was over, hates seeing you in pain like this.

That changes once the baby’s born then he’s ready to do it all over again. He didn’t know how attached he’s gotten to helping you do the things you couldn’t because of your belly  like putting on your shoes (looking up at your belly reverently the entire time before planting a kiss on it) for you and helping you pick things off the floor that your clumsy fingers dropped. He grew a particular affection for helping you rub shea butter and vitamin E oil over your rapidly appearing stretch marks.

Price insists on building the nursery furniture without reading the directions, “Know what I’m doin’ woman,” and to your chagrin he was right. Managed everything without a set of directions perched on his knee and instead chucked them to the side with the box.

The first thing he built was the fancy rocking chair he bought for you, insisting you don’t help him with anything “At least let me hold the screws John, I feel stupid just sitting here!”

To him, peace is this. This is what so many long nights holed up in some shithole on a mission have led to. Him sitting on the floor at your feet, building a life together while oldies play on the record player in the next room. He’s so overwhelmed in the moment he can’t help but pull your hand to his lips and kiss it and laughs at you when you ask him what’s wrong

“It’s all right, is the thing, love.”

When you get the first ultrasound, he stops at the store on the way home and purchased a picture frame (insisting you stay in the car and not overexert yourself, he’ll just be a moment, love). The next day he’s on base it now proudly sits facing him next to the photo of him and you vacationing in London with your faces squeezed together in the frame, selfie-style.

Tells anyone who enters his office about you and how far along you are, whether they ask or not, comparing the baby to different sized fruits, which parts were developing that week.

“She’s the size of a lime now, tiny little thing.”

“Can you imagine that she’s growing fingernails in my bird’s belly!”

Absolutely rubbed your swollen ankles in the evenings when he got home from work, peppering gentle kisses on them when he switched feet

Loved your pregnancy brain fog and would kiss your nose any time he got to remind you about something. He became the keeper of your calendar, scheduling your appointments and taking you to them.

When you go into labor, he’s on base in a meeting with some high-brass in a meeting on a highly classified matter. He’s not even allowed to bring his phone into the room. Instead having to turn it off and lock it in a safe prior to entering even with a baby on the way. He was aware this might happen and had instructed you on the line of succession.

“If you can’t get ahold of me, leave me a message lovie, then go down the line. Simon’s second-in–command-”

“Then Kyle, then Johnny, I know, John, you’ve drilled it into my head,” You soothe him, petting the creases he’s worn between his eyebrows, “It’ll be just fine, women have been doing it for thousands of years.”

“I’ll be there, I promise lovie,” He kisses your palm

You leave the message on John’s voicemail, a curt, “It’s time John, once I hang-up I’m dialing Simon, just like we practiced.”

Simon answers on the third ring, “Missus?” His rumbly voice cuts across the line.

“It’s time Simon and John’s still in the meeting since his phone is turned off.”

“Copy.”

The line goes dead leaving you blinking at the Call Ended screen.

You decide that Simon is aware of the drastic nature of the matter and instead busy yourself, you lug the baby bag and your purse to the floor next to the door and go through the checklist John had created in the front pocket: Stove off, windows shut and locked, televisions off…It wasn’t until Simon was letting himself into your front door that the list was likely a distraction from your husband to stop you from leaving on your own until Simon arrived.

Simon collects you with the cool confidence of a Lieutenant in the special forces.

No, don’t worry about the bags or the door, he’s got it, just get yourself into the car.

You try John’s number over and over on the way to the hospital, narrating Simon’s driving, “John, I’m going to have words with you when this is over, I cannot believe you let your pregnant wife in a car with what has to be the worst driver in all of Manchester!”

Before you know it, you’re being rushed into the hospital with Ghost snapping at the nurse at the desk for a wheelchair, NOW! He barks out orders in true military fashion leaving your head buried in your hands as you’re being escorted to the maternity ward.

“Now don’t worry, Sir, your wife is in excellent hands,” one of the nurses addresses Simon, all muscle pushing you in the wheelchair, unblinking and matching their pace.

“He’s not-” You try and interject.

“She better be,” Simon cuts you off, “And the labor will be handled with the utmost care or someone will have to answer to me personally.”

The contractions have started coming back to back and you’re pacing the hospital room, sucking on ice chips fed to you by a patient Simon.

Kyle and Johnny have also arrived and join him in his vigil, somehow maneuvering their way through the “Father and family only” policy the hospital has.

“She was adopted,” You later find out Kyle deadpanned at the security trying to stop him from entering the room, “Can’t you see the family resemblance?”

True to his word, John is there.

He’s rushed into the room, frazzled and running his hand over his beard, eyes darting until he finds you, “Hey sweet girl, I’m here, I’m here,” pointedly ignoring the nurse trying to count out the men in the room

(“Who are these men to you again miss?”)

(“I’m the father,” Gaz informs, flipping through a magazine to pass the time between bursts of activity with contractions.)

You moan out John’s name slapping at his chest weekly when he gathers you up into his arms and hugs you, “I’m mad at you John!”

“Don’t be mad, love, I made it just like I promised,” He tries to soothe you, smoothing his hands over your disheveled hair. “Not about being late, about getting me pregnant!” “It’s a bit late for that now, love,” He does his best to hide the smile twitching into place under his mustache. 

The boys remain in the room for the entire labor, John holding one hand and the other men trading off when your grip became too strong (“Dinnae know the lass could break my bones with just one hand,” Johnny moans shaking out his aching appendage.)

When the baby finally arrives, the doctor again looks around at the men in the room, “Would…Dad like to hold her?”

John finally extracts himself from your bruising grip to hold your daughter, eyes twinkling with joy at seeing the bundle covered in blood and viscera. Such a difference from every other time he’d been covered in the blood, these are stains he’ll gladly wear.

#1 baby wearer captain price

“I hardly get to hug you anymore because she’s always strapped to you!”

Price’s eyebrows go up at that, “Are you jealous, love?

 “Not jealous, but I miss my husband's arms around me!” When you say that with a slight pout in your voice, Price is quick to arrange Uncle Soap and Gaz so he can wine and dine you like old times. 

You make sure to wag your finger enough at the boys and remind them they’re there to babysit, not throw a rager and rile up the baby, even though you know your warnings are falling onto deaf ears. You wholeheartedly expect to return home to a cranky and overtired baby and two military men.

“Can’t neglect either of my girls” he’d mutter into your hair after pulling you close after dinner, holding you to his chest tightly in the middle of the sidewalk 

“You never do, John, you’re the best man I could’ve hoped for,” You muttered into his chest, “Never did I think I’d get someone so in love with me and our child.”

Will regularly fall asleep with the baby curled on his chest, boonie hat pulled down over his eyes, with your daughter also lulled to sleep by his steady breaths. You can’t help but take a photo every time it happens, so smitten with how your husband enjoys his quiet days on leave.

You can’t help but send the photo to the boys, having the group chat with them immediately blown up with emojis sent by Soap, laughing at the Captain’s prone form.

As a joke the photo ends up framed on Price’s desk, next to the ultrasound. Price actually enjoys having it to remind him of the peace he has waiting at home and the joke is ruined when the photo remains in it’s place of honor.

[marvelnatr]

Fever

This will not contain smut, however my page is an 18+ page. Minors DNI!!!!

Background: you didn’t join Nat for training at six like you always do. She comes back to find you sick. fluffy natty

Natasha’s POV:

My watch vibrated gently against my wrist, beckoning me to get out of my shared bed with my girlfriend for morning training. I always got up at four am. I’d put on my work out clothes and lay out Y/N’s for when she got up at 5:50 and joined me at 6. After getting ready I’d kiss Y/N’s head and quietly make my way out of the room, careful not to wake my beautiful girlfriends sleeping form.

The two hours quickly passed, I had been watching my watch waiting for Y/N to come in. The entire two hours passed with no sign of her. As my worry grew I called it quits and headed upstairs to our room. When I opened the door I could see Y/N still asleep and curled up on her side of the bed, which was quite unusual given she was a blanket hog and was typically all sprawled out. Taking off my tank top and tossing it to the hamper I sat down on the edge of the bedside, gently whispering “Y/N my love”. I waited for an answer, I got none. Carefully resting my hand on her back I felt how warm she was and frowned, she feels extremely feverish. I kissed her head and went to our bathroom, grabbing a thermometer and some meds in case she needed them. I decided I’d let her rest as long as her body would let her. Texting Clint I asked him if he could make me something to eat which he gave his kind and normal absolutely.

Within the hour Y/N began to stir, her eyebrows furrowing at the small amount of light peeking into our room. I headed to her side of the bed, putting my breakfast plate on our desk on the way. Raking my fingers through her hair I whispered “good morning daring”. Y/N mumbled a little hello and rubbed her head. I gently held her cheek “are you feeling okay baby?” Y/N shook her head “no, my head honestly hurts pretty bad. I’m sorry I missed training Natty” I shook my head “nonsense my love, you’re sick. Let’s get your temp taken okay?”. She nodded and leaned into me. I held her close as I took her temp. It came back as 101. Disregarding the cover in the trash next our bed I gently pet her head “you my darling definitely have a fever” Y/N whined a little and buried her head into my chest. Gently rubbing her head I whispered “lets get you some meds and a bath okay love?” Y/N nodded, kissing her head I gently laid her back down and left to go make our bath. Leaving the door open a little for her to still see me

Y/N’s POV:

I woke up this morning to my alarm blaring. Turning it off and quickly deciding training would not be something I am attending today given the sharp pain in my head. Quickly falling asleep just to wake up a few hours later with my head still hurting. However I am incredibly grateful Natasha is here. My red head girlfriend was wonderful at taking care of me.

So now I’m laying here watching my girlfriend half naked and making a bath. I grabbed my water and the pain meds beside me, taking the pills and laying back down. After a few minutes Natasha came back into the room, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on my lips. Her coconut and shea butter chapstick always lingers on my lips. That’s how I know a water bottle is hers, the residue of the chapstick rests around the spout of the bottle. Smiling at the familiar taste, Natasha’s lips curved, mirroring the smile painted on my face. Nat smoothly whispered “you ready for the bath love?” I nodded and she picked my up, my head gently leaning into her chest as I rested against her.

A blissful silence fell over us as we cuddled in the warm bath. The aroma of the bath salts my girlfriend had added filled the air. Natasha’s hands gently began to wash me. I’ve always preferred her hands. Feeling her skin on mine was one of the most peaceful feelings ever. Nat began to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, my body sinking into her as all the tension in my muscles relaxed. Natasha never failed to make me feel like I was in heaven when with her. I was completely safe in her arms, in her presence. Closing my eyes I dozed off, falling back asleep.

Natasha’s POV:

Y/N got heavier on top of me. Not that she was heavy but she had definitely fallen asleep given the sudden change to deadweight. Finishing the bath I kissed her head and carried her sleeping frame out of the tub. I gently dried her off and put some panties and my big shirt on her. Getting myself in the same kind of clothes I climbed into bed with her. Y/N immediately cuddled into me, my arms instinctively wrapping around her and pulling her closer to me. Turning on the TV and lowering the volume so I didn’t wake her. She was so beautiful, her sleeping form, the way her face looked angelic. She will always be my girl. My girl.

[bordysbae]

i genuinely need like frat wedding with someone like idc but i wanna see how it would fucking go 😫

“wedding bells”

mark estapa x brisson!reader

word count: 1.3k

warning: cursing

ps: this is not a romance story, there is kissing but its not really a love story! sorry if that’s what you were expecting!! also, sorry this isn’t exactly a frat wedding but it’s pretty close in idea? also idk why the gif is so blurry :((

you and your older brother, brendan, somehow ended up at the same college. so this meant having to deal with his idiotic teammates all the time. you’re just hanging out in your dorm when suddenly dylan and ethan come banging on your door. “jesus christ i’m coming stop knocking on the door!” you groan, rolling out of your bed.

you open the door and see ethan and dylan breathing heavily, sweating a little too. “should’ve known it would be you idiots, what do you guys want? also, why are you guys so out of breath?” you ask, annoyed that they disturbed your peace. “you need to come with us to the sophomores house, cmon” dylan says quickly grabbing your wrist. you stop in your tracks, causing dylan to jolt backwards. “hold on! i don’t have shoes on dumbass!” “hurry up!” ethan exclaims as you go back into your dorm to grab shoes.

the boys take you to the house, and you’re met with not only your roomate, who’s also your best friend, but also the entire hockey team. “what the fuck is going on?” you chuckle nervously, confused why so many people are here.

“go turn around in the corner, we have a surprise for you” thomas says as he grabs your wrist and pushes you into the corner gently. you turn around and listen to the chaos and whispers going on behind you. “y/n turn around” your best friend sing-songs. you slowly and cautiously turn around, afraid something might jump out at you or something. you never know what the hockey boys have up their sleeve. when you turn around you see everyone either sitting on or standing around the couch, and mark is in front of you down on one knee. your mouth falls agape at the sight.

“y/n, i love you—“ mark pauses and turns around to face your brother brendan, “as a friend, don’t kill me briss.” brendan chuckles and gives a thumbs up, as mark turns around to face you again. “—so much, so will you do me the honor and marry me?” he asks, as he pulls out a ring pop from his pocket. you hold back a laugh, and nod in agreement, wiping fake tears to go along with the act.

the crowd around you guys erupts into cheers and laughs, as he places the ring pop on your ring finger. he pulls you into a hug and whispers in your ear, “i’m sorry about all this” he laughs, making you finally break and begin laughing too. the guys suddenly turn you and marks hug into a group one and you’re instantly being crushed by everyone. “so when’s the wedding?” luke asks. “uhh, saturday! tomorrow night we can all go out to the bar as a bachelor party” mark suggests. “what about me? i can’t be in your bachelor party, i’m the bride!” you say. “oh suck it up y/n, you’ll be fine” ethan says as he pats your shoulder. “yeah yeah, whatever eddy”

—

today is the day, and you’re wearing a random white dress you found in your closet. it’s definitely far from a wedding dress, but you’re a broke college kid, so a tight dress from senior year homecoming is the best you’re gonna get. your roommate, now maid of honor, is doing your makeup, while your other friends who you chose as bridesmaids get their dresses on. the boys are lucky since they need to dress up before games, so they all have nice outfits already planned out for them.

eventually it’s time to walk down the aisle, and your bridesmaids all found someone to pair up with. brendan is walking your friend eliana, ethan is walking shea, luke is walking molly, dylan is walking ella, and lastly thomas is walking you. thomas isn’t apart of the bachelor party but since he’s your brothers best friend who you’ve grown close to, he decided to step in to walk you down the aisle.

“good luck out there kid” he chuckles softly, making you chuckle slightly too.

once you reach the altar you see mark standing in front of you, a stupid grin across his face. nolan was collectively voted to wed you guys, since he’s the most “responsible.”

“ladies and gentlemen i bring you all here today to celebrate the um, totally real marriage of y/n and mark!” nolan says, and the crowd roars of things like “get it mark!” and “that’s my boy!” once the crowd quiets down, nolan speaks up again. “so, mark would you like to start us off with the vows?” “oh sure” he says as he scratches the back of his neck.

“y/n i love the pancakes you make after a long night out, they taste really good! i also really love how you blast music from your phone for no reason literally every time you’re over! umm yeah i love you a lot, i guess?” he says awkwardly off of the top of his head. “you couldn’t even write anything down?! you’re such an idiot estapa!” ethan bursts out laughing, making everyone including you laugh.

just before you can begin your vows suddenly nolan speaks up, “um excuse me, phillipe there’s no smoking in here unless you give me a hit, so please put your puff bar away sir.” nolan scowls at the boy who’s in the second row of foldable chairs. phillipe takes one last hit and places it back in his pocket, “my fault. continue with your vows.” you chuckle before pulling out your phone to read the vows you wrote. “mark, i’ve gotten to know you decently well and i’m honored to be marrying you! you’re a pain in the ass who im so glad to be marrying. thanks for always eating the food i make, you’re always the reason i need to make three batches of pancakes for you idiots. i love you lots!” you giggle at the stupidness of this entire situation.

“oh her vows were so much better, you suck estapa” dylan exclaims. “shut up dylan!” mark groans. “alright, mark, do you take y/n to be your wife, to be together through sickness and in health, to be together uhhh—“ he pauses to think, “um, through old age?” he shrugs, making everyone laugh once again.

“i do” mark smiles at you. “y/n, do you take mark to be your husband through whatever the hell i just said to mark?” nolan asks you. “i do” you smile. “alright mackie, bring out the rings!” nolan exclaims, as mackie rises from his seat holding a little box with two haribo wedding rings in it . mark places a ring on your finger, and you place the other one on his.

“you may now kiss the bride!” nolan cheerfully blurts out. “briss close your eyes” mark says as he wraps an arm around your waist, dipping you down like in the movies and kissing your lips. many ‘woo!’s and ‘get it!’s can be heard from the crowd around you. brendan pulls mark away from you playfully, “okay that’s enough kissing my sister estapa!” he says as he fake gags.

matty starts playing ‘dj got us fallin in love’ by usher as you and mark walk hand in hand down the aisle. “matty i wanted taylor swift to play at my wedding! not party music!” you complain. “it was this or some random youtube video dylan found of wedding bells!” “wedding bells are a real thing? i thought that was just a saying” mark chimes in. dylan shrugs, “i didn’t know they were real either, i just looked up wedding music”

“enough bickering you four, nolan bought champagne!” thomas says, luring the four of you back inside the house. “to the newly weds!” nolan says as he shakes the bottle before popping it open, making everyone cheer.

never did you think your wedding would look like this, but if we’re being honest, this is way more fun.

[wakandas-vibranium]

Wednesday Nights || Part Five (final)

Pairing: outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI 👁️, time skip, angst, smutty smut, dirty talk, oral(f+m receiving) v fingering, praise kink, creampie

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: The final chapter is among us! Thank you to everyone who’s read, engaged, and just been so sweet. I hope you’ve really enjoyed reading this story! Please like, comment, and reblog!

part one

part two

part three

part four

Six months in, you were beginning to consider Jackson your permanent home. The medical research group you were a part of was always on the move, never staying somewhere for more than a month or so. And now, sadly you were the only one of your squad still breathing. Because of your concerns for Joel and the immune girl, you weren't able to truly appreciate it. Tommy mentioned that they left a week before Christmas, and it was now approaching July. You were worried. What happened to them? Were they safe? 

Was Joel? 

You were devastated for twenty long years, convinced that your newfound family—Tommy, Joel, and Sarah—had lost their lives. It was only Sarah, as it turned out. You laid awake in bed at the new house Tommy and Maria had set up for you and silently sobbed. Instead of being bitten and turning into a monster, your baby girl was shot. According to Tommy, a no-backbone havin’ soldier opened fire and shot at Joel and Sarah.

You had barely slept now that you knew Joel was alive. You endured a recurring nightmare in which he was attacked by a swarm of infected and turned into one. You'd wake up a cranky, sweaty mess. You pleaded each and every night for six months straight in Jackson. Please, please please let Joel make it back safely.

Today was actually pretty good. You worked a shift with Tommy at the stables. Spending time with the animals usually made you feel better and kept your mind off the whereabouts of your missing love. One of the horses accidentally tripped you, and you fell flat on your ass. Tommy, of course, thought it was hilarious and laughed his ass off once he made sure you were alright, and so did you. You and Tommy's laughing fits reminded you of old times. Better times.

As usual, dinner was warm and delicious. You ate with Tommy and a few others you were warming up to. You chatted with them for a while before heading home to shower and get ready for bed. You arrived home, which was a few houses down from Tommy and Maria's, just as the sun started to set.

You stood under the warm spray, your thoughts racing about Joel and whether he was safe. Joel, Joel, Joel. He was all you were going to think about until he returned, maybe even then. You washed and rinsed a handful of times before standing underneath the trickles of water, contemplating. If Joel hadn't come back by the end of the week, you were going to go look for him and Ellie.

You told Tommy a month ago that you wanted to go out and look for Joel, and you asked him to go with you. He would have said yes if Maria hadn't been eavesdropping. She burst into the kitchen with a sleeping newborn in her arms and immediately put a stop to it.

You were furious at first, but you realized it was too risky for the father of their newborn child. Soon after, you decided to go at it alone. If just one person was prepared to risk their life for Joel, and that person was you, then so be it.

Right before you exited the shower, you turned the nozzle to the off position. Taking a towel from the nearby rack, you started to dry off. You sat on the edge of the tub with your leg propped up and lathered yourself in shea butter from the small container you'd gotten from Maria as a peace offering.

You were in the middle of lathering your arms when you heard the sound of heavy boots approaching your door. Moments later, someone rushed inside without knocking and slammed the door shut behind them.

What. The. Hell?!  

It had to be Tommy, you thought as you moved to stand. Maybe he had news about Joel that couldn’t wait ‘til mornin’. 

"What is it, Tommy?" You called worriedly from upstairs. You frantically reached for your linen bathrobe, slipped into it, and knotted it tightly around your waist before rushing down the stairs, stopping short at the sight before you. "Is Joel oka—" 

Your heart skipped a beat.

The love of your life was standing there, his shiny chestnut-brown eyes peering at you in disbelief.

You smiled sheepishly at him and said, "Hi." 

For a brief second, you were that timid young woman calling the hotline all those years ago. Oh, God , you thought. Still, with just a glance, he can make you feel nervous even after all these years.

With a watery smile, he cleared the lump in his throat and said "Hi."

What seemed like hours turned out to be only sixty seconds. Neither of you could remember how to put one leg in front of the other. You both stood there frozen, eyes roaming curiously over each other's figures. 

Gobsmacked.

"I thought you were dead," you admitted brokenly, unable to keep the tears from spilling down your cheeks.  

Joel exhaled sharply, fighting back his own hot tears, and uttered, "Darlin’.” That endearment was enough to make your heart sing and your tears flow quicker. He took a calming breath before continuing, "I thought you were dead."

Joel finally pushed his legs forward, and within three big strides, he was in front of you, sweeping you up into his big arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist and threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you both let out soft cries.

With slow, deliberate steps and a vice-like grip against your back, he walked you over to the couch and sat down, maneuvering you onto the cushion beside him.

You two must have been talking for hours. The sunset had long gone. Joel was very reluctant at first, but with reassurance and admittance of your own past wrongdoings, he finally opened up. He told you everything, starting with the evening of his 36th birthday.

When he got to the part about Sarah's death, he choked up a bit, but he didn't weep. It seemed like he had healed from it. At least enough to be able to talk about it without breaking down. He was reticent to tell you, but he did say that not long after she died, he made an attempt on his own life. You told him you were glad that he flinched. He told you about Tess — who seemed to be a remarkable woman. You wished you could have met her. When he talked about Ellie, his eyes sparkled and the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile. The same way it did when he used to tell you stories about Sarah.

"Why do you keep doin’ that?" Joel took a break from informing you about the last three months to ask you. 

"Doin’ what?" you asked, raising your brows at him.

"You make a face like you're tastin’ lemon for the first time every time I mention the fireflies." 

“Oh, that ,” you muttered, fighting back an eye roll at the mention of the terrorist group, “I had a few fist fights with their leader.” you revealed, wincing slightly at the surprised look he gave you. Before the apocalypse, you weren’t really one for confrontation, let alone violence.

“You fought Marlene?” Joel asked, stifling an incredulous chuckle. 

“Yes,” you huffed. “That bitch killed a lot of my people. Blowin’ up unnecessary shit and whatever else she called herself doing. Almost blew me to smithereens a few times.” 

“I take it you don’t like her all that much…”

“Hell no,” you answered, a little too loudly. “Next time I see her, imma kill her dead.” 

Joel shook his head at you fondly and brought a hand over his mouth as he let out a hearty chuckle. He knew you were going to love the next part of the story.

He told you about Marlene's plans for Ellie, and you assured him that the cure would have failed and that everything would have been for nothing. When he shared with you that he shot and killed Marlene, you gasped so loudly that you choked on your own spit. He chuckled softly as he rubbed your back to help relieve your choking. You burst out giggling at the situation's irony. It made perfect sense that the love of your life would wind up killing your worst enemy. 

"Joel Miller," you said in between wheezes, "Just when I thought I couldn't love you any more than I already do..." 

He wiped the tears from his eyes and gazed at you as his laughter came to a stop, asking in a hushed tone, "You still love me?" 

"Are you kiddin’ me?" you smiled softly at him as you intertwined your fingers with his. “There isn't a universe that exists where I don't love you."

Taken aback by your tender remarks, he couldn't find enough words for a response, so he just bent his head down and caught your lips in a gentle kiss. 

The moment your lips touched Joel's, it felt like a match lighting a fire that was hidden deep in your belly. It was like both of your bodies remembered each other. You palmed the side of his head as you deepened the kiss so Joel pulled you in closer by your waist, and you moaned in his mouth as his tongue ran against yours. You climbed into his lap, eliciting a low groan from him as your heat brushed over his half-hard cock.

You broke the kiss, gently cupping Joel's face in your hands so you could see his beautiful chestnut-brown eyes. The eyes that gazed back at you looked nearly the same, just a tad bit sadder than you remembered. You were digging the gray hair he was sporting. He looked even better and more seasoned. You even had a few grays yourself.

"Fuck me," you whispered against his salt-n-pepper beard. 

"You’re gonna suck my cock, then I’m gonna eat your pussy, and then I'm gonna fuck you nice and hard. Just like we used to, okay?"

Fuck, he still knew what to say to get you dripping for him. You swallowed thickly, repressing a whimper. “Yes.” 

You unbuckled his belt as he slipped his shirt up and over his head. He flung his shirt to the other side of the couch before reaching for and untying the knot in your robe. He hummed with satisfaction as your breasts sprung free, bending forward to suck a nipple into his warm mouth as he pushed the fabric over your shoulders.

His skin was warm and smelled of fresh soap and whiskey. He must have shared a glass with Tommy before his little brother broke the news. You moaned his name softly as he cupped your other breast, tugging on your free nipple with the tips of his fingers. He let them go as you continued to move down his body, your hands going down his hairy chest and against his taut, pink nipples.

He was broader than you remembered, and where his abs used to be was a nice little pudge. He had the most irresistible dad bod you'd ever seen. Everything about Joel used to turn you on, so it only seemed typical that that side of you didn't change. You pressed a kiss into each of the scars that were visible on his chest. You had no doubt that Joel was a survivor, and this only served to confirm what you had always believed.

Joel raised his hips slightly, allowing you to tug off his boxers and jeans. His cock, still fat, was fully erect and oozing. Your mouth immediately began to water at the sight. You missed it. You missed having it in your mouth and inside your pussy, but most of all you missed cumming on it.

Seeing him there, all slack and attractive on your blue couch, sent an unexpected rush of warmth through your entire body. Joel smirked as he watched you eye his dick hungrily. “When’s the last time you sucked a cock?” He asked.

“The week before your 36th birthday,” you replied as you grasped it in your hand and stroked it slowly. 

Joel's eyes flashed in surprise, and you interrupted him before he could ask you another question.

"You are the only one who gets to touch me," you vowed, gazing into his lust-filled pupils. You knelt between his spread legs as you brought the tip of his cock to your lips and gently kissed it, he grunted softly in anticipation. You tongued the slit, licking the precum that had gathered there, moaning in pleasure at the sweet-tang flavor. Your clit throbbed with desire.

You lifted your head and glanced up at Joel through your long lashes, where you caught a peek of his adorable dimples as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip. You licked long, wet stripes up the sides of his shaft before pulling the tip of his cock between your soft lips.

"Shit," he cursed, his moans growing louder as he felt the utterly delicious heat of your mouth. You flicked your tongue around the tip before taking him deeper into your mouth, meticulously bobbing your head up and down, relishing the low whines trickling past his lips. Joel was considerably more vocal than you remembered, but you weren't complaining. It only made your pussy drip more for him. Your cheeks contracted as you took him as far as you could, and you gagged as the crown of his cock slipped down your throat.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said, groaning loudly.

You let his cock fall out of your mouth with a loud pop sound, stroking it fast with your left hand while the other fondled his balls as you shot him a devilish grin. You still had it . 

Joel stared down into your hungry eyes and licked his lips. He commanded, "Rub that pussy for me," and then brushed his thumb across your wet lips. You happily obliged, sliding your free hand between your thick thighs and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud, surprised as to how soaked you already were. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as he cupped the back of your head, bringing your mouth back to his hard cock. He groaned deeply as you took him back between your lips, sucking the tip with precision. You braced your free hand on his thigh and massaged your clit even faster as he fucked up into your mouth. 

“Shit,” Joel grunted as you tightened your lips around him and took him deeper down your throat, breathing through your nose, “Just like that, baby.” 

Joel's moans were driving you insane. You had forgotten how sensual and filthy they sounded. It was like music to your ears. You came unexpectedly, moaning loudly around Joel's cock, the vibrations damn near sending him over the edge. Your thighs shook violently, causing you to fall slightly forward, drawing him deeper into your mouth.

"Did you just cum?" he asked, pulling his spit-slickened cock out of your mouth in the same expression of surprise as you.

It had been 20 years since your last orgasm. You didn't let anyone touch you, even though many tried, and you didn't even touch yourself. Joel was the only person you wanted to touch you, and since you thought he was dead, you no longer had sexual urges. 

“Yeah,” you replied hoarsely, nodding as you panted from your abrupt orgasm. 

Joel moved lightning-fast, shifting your positions. You were now leaning back against the couch, and he was on his knees in between your legs.

Joel pushed your legs open wider and draped one over his left shoulder as he tenderly kissed up your supple legs; once he got to your thighs, he dug his teeth into the meat there, just enough to make you cry out in pleasure. 

He licked his lips in hunger as he rolled your clit between his thumb and forefinger. The way your pussy glistened in the dimly lit living room made his cock twitch. "So wet for me,” he praised, stroking his cock with his free hand. 

"Only for you, Joel," you giggled, softly gasping as he rubbed his lips against your dripping cunt. 

His hot breath caressed your pussy just as his wide tongue teased your folds with soft licks. Your heart thudded against your rib cage, and you jerked slightly, anticipation getting the best of you.

Joel thrust his tongue up your wet slit, diligently licking his way up to your clit, flicking it a few times with the tip of his tongue before locking his lips around the bundle of nerves, driving you to let out a high whine.

Your head thrashed from side to side and your hands clawed at the arms of the couch as Joel dipped his middle finger inside your entrance, lips still tugging firmly at your clit. 

"I love the way you sound for me," Joel growled as he added another finger, his words barely discernible as he refused to let go of your swollen clit.

“I’m about to cum,” you warned, squirming as the pleasure made you incapable of lying still. You tried to close your quivering legs as your second orgasm ripped through you, but Joel’s grip on your thigh tightened, pinning you to the couch as your climax had you thrashing about.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed as he drew his fingers out, his tongue lapping at the new rush of wetness, soothing you through your orgasm. “You taste even sweeter than I remember.” 

"Joel," you begged weakly, unable to catch your breath. “Baby, please — just fuck me." You panted harshly, pushing his head away from your sensitive cunt as you struggled to recover from your climax.

“Okay,” he chuckled softly, moving back to give you enough room to turn around, “Come here, darlin’.” You rolled over so that your ass was facing him and bent over the couch cushions with your knees on the floor. Joel was on his knees behind you, aligning his fat cock with your dripping entrance.

He swirled the tip of his cock in your juices before pressing into your hole, oh so slowly. “Goddamn, you’re tight,” he grunted, breath hitching as he slid in all the way to the hilt. You wrapped around him like a vice. He needed a minute and to be honest, so did you. It’d been 20 years since you last had his cock and your body needed to adjust to his fullness again. He stretched you so good it hurt. 

Joel rocked into you with deep, slow thrusts, driving you mad. 

“Please fuck me harder,” you begged, wanting to feel more. You felt like he was holding back and you didn’t want that. 

He pulled back, driving into you with one strong push. He smacked your asscheeks a few more times before setting a brutal pace that forced you deeper into the couch cushions.

"Yes, yes, yes," you moaned blissfully, rocking back to meet his forceful thrusts. The sound of his hips snapping against your ass filled the room instantly.

“You still take my cock so well, baby.” He moaned loudly, flattening his palm against the small of your back as he drilled into your tight pussy, stretching you even more. You screamed in pleasure, sinking your nails into the couch cushions. 

Joel was pounding your walls tirelessly and your orgasm was making its way downtown, walking fast. 

"I feel it," Joel hissed as he felt your walls tighten around him. "Be a good girl and cum for me." As if his permission was all you needed, you did just that, your body jolting as you creamed all over his cock. Joel fucked you through your orgasm, not letting up as he chased his own climax. You whimpered, eyes welling up with tears, toes curling and uncurling as he brushed against your g-spot.

“Fuuuuck!” Joel cursed as he jerked and spilled his seed inside of you, making you spasm as his warm cum filled you up. 

You both panted wildly, staying connected as neither of you dared to move. After a few minutes, your breathing returned to normal and Joel pulled out with a low hiss, cleaning you up with his shirt before putting you on your back against the couch and laying partially on top of you.

You encircled him as his head rested on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. For quite a while, neither of you said anything. Simply enjoying each other's company in the comforting silence. You snuck a peek at him to check if he'd fallen asleep, but he was wide awake, thinking.

His left eyebrow still furrowed when he was in deep thought. You traced small circles into his arm as you asked, “What are you thinkin’ about?” 

“Decompress until there’s a mess.” he mumbled, grinning like a mad man in amusement.

You both burst into an obnoxious fit of giggles. You were laughing so hard that a deep ache emerged in your stomach. You couldn't remember the last time you laughed this hard. 

It's comforting to know that after 20 years and all the hardships you've been through, you still have the ability to make each other laugh like maniacs. 

“Good one Jay,” you snorted and you both cracked up again, both cackling like the wicked witch of the west. 

[dmercer91]

relationship headcanons, sc26

there will be no sleeping on shea on my watch

i have some luke hcs coming early next week!! thank you to people who have requested and are being patient w me

starting off as friends and he’s constantly flirting with you (notably very badly) so you flirt back harmlessly

it’s just jokes until someone else does it with you and he’s like 😟 ok wait was i joking?? (he wasn’t)

he asks you out by throwing you a puck with the question

you weren’t the one who originally caught it so that was a very awkward moment, not his proudest for sure

being a little taller than him and everyone giving him a hard time about it so you start wearing your converse more often rather than boots or anything that makes you taller

you know they’re not trying to be mean to you cause you’re all friends but you feel bad for seamus

he’s dramatic about it when he notices cause you’re trying to find flat shoes that go with an outfit and he’s seen you wear the same thing with boots before

“you haven’t worn your docs in forever, baby. they’d look good with that”

“yeah but they make me like over six feet tall, shea” “… yeah? you used to love them,”

a long time of awkward silence and even more awkward eye contact ensues and he asks if you don’t like / feel embarrassed being evidently taller than him

“what? no!” “then wha-“

and then rutger comes through the door scrolling on his phone completely unaware of everything and seamus raises an eyebrow while both of you eye him walking away

“put the boots on, y/n,”

he comes into whatever function you’re going to with his arm around your shoulders and when ethan starts to say something seamus flips his hat around and slaps it down so it hits him in the nose

everyone who was there kinda got the hint after that

karaoke nights.

he cannot sing for the life of him but you’re having the time of your life so he will belt any song you pick and spin you around

sometimes he won’t even know the song and he’s honestly just there to be your personal hype man

you guys keep the playful friendship banter you had while you’d been just friends

you’ll be in bed about to fall asleep and all of the sudden he slaps you up the back of the head and you’re wide awake

“take out your contacts, dumbass. gonna go blind one of these days i swear”

you’ll do the same for him if he’s about to pass out on you and you know he hasn’t set an alarm or something

dorms are a pain in the ass when you want some peace and quiet so you’ll go to sophomore house and he’ll wait outside while you go in

“can i use one of your rooms? the dorms are so loud my door is vibrating,”

they whine and complain until mark points at dylan, since luke is in jersey and ‘he’s had it too easy for too long’

“fine. don’t touch anything,”

“thanks, duker, we’ll be quiet,” “who is we?”

you grin and walk towards the door, quickly pulling seamus in by his wrist and making a run for it

he runs after you but you’ve locked his door and tucked a chair under the knob before he gets to you

he tries to unlock the door only to realize the chair was there

he pounded on the door and yelled “use luke’s bed, at least,”

by the looks of the bedside table, holding a picture of dylan’s family, you most certainly did not use luke’s bed.

you were banned from asking to use their rooms to study until finals when seamus found you trying to study with music blaring in your ears cause dorms were too loud

so he essentially brought you over there and told mackie that you were using his room and he had no choice

during the summer you guys will take the boat and just sit in the middle of the lake cuddling under the sun

you’ve fallen asleep there and when you woke up there was a you shaped tan line on shea cause he burnt

his excuse for not having moved you was that you looked too comfortable and he hadn’t wanted to wake you

“you’re the cutest, sappiest dumbass i’ve ever met, you know that?”

you used aloe vera later that night to help with the sting and now you’re convinced he’s avoiding sunscreen on purpose so you’ll give him a shoulder massage

if you’re by a pool or the lake he is the only one who’s allowed to throw you in cause you trust that he understands when you mean no and when you’re feigning annoyance

he is the best enforcer of that rule cause luca tried to throw you in the lake one weekend and you were holding onto him so aggressively that he put you down to make sure you actually knew how to swim

you sprinted away the second your feet hit the ground and none of them had ever seen you run so fast

shea had been inside and when he came out everyone was like.. can she swim?

his face fell and he left to go find you, and you were by the patio taking whoever’s phones you could find

“what are you doing?” “making their phones collateral, why,”

“they’re not gonna throw you in, i promise”

you went back and were still hugging a pile of phones to your chest.

safe to say shea had explained for you and luca felt like an asshole so you hugged him and coined him your karaoke partner for the night as a way of saying he was ok

you force seamus to learn how to take care of his hair cause it looks so good when it’s not dead and sticking up

he agreed under the stipulation that you’d give him scalp massages and put in hair masks for him / do them together cause he’s a huge sap and likes the way it feels

when you guys cuddle there is literally no position you haven’t ended up in

you’ll wake up and he’s on top of you, or you’re on top of him, or you’re both somehow on top of each other and you don’t know who’s limbs are where anymore

one time you woke up upside down on the bed, like your feet had been at the pillows

other times you don’t move at all, it’s become a fun guessing game

he likes to facetime on nights when you’re apart, especially when he’s falling asleep cause he’s so used to you being with him

once he signs his elc, you slowly transition your life to jersey and you get an apartment together and adopt a cat (he’s absolute chaos and you both would kill for him)

in conclusion seamus casey is my favourite idiot and i will cherish him (and shove him down your throats!) forever

[blueraineshadows]

Heart Song

Leander Prewett x F!MC

Fluff ❤️🥰

In honour of Joshua Shea, who is Leander Prewett's voice actor, who has a lovely singing voice.

Listen here for Joshua's voice (YouTube video)

The halls and corridors of Hogwarts were quiet this late in the evenings, but MC was no stranger to wandering about the castle at this time, or even later as she had been known to do. She found it rather peaceful to tell the truth, without all the bustle and noise of all the students around her.

MC wasn't fond of crowds, or too much noise. She didn't mind lingering in quiet corners, keeping to the shadows and slipping about relatively unseen. She had been under the spotlight too much after the events of 5th year, and it had been overwhelming to put it mildly.

Now, at the start of her 7th year, MC was more settled in her routine of classes, and she had a few good friends around her that she was rather fond of.

Her studies came first, always, her thirst to absorb as much as she could in the relatively short time she had been given at Hogwarts still as rampant as ever. But, she could always make time for her music.

Music was everything. It was a part of her soul, it was her escape and her rescue, without it, she would be lost. To sit at the piano, her hands could do the talking, drawing such emotion from something as simple as ivory keys and metal wire.

Today had been a busy one, classes and assignments, and she had done a couple of hours in the library with Sebastian to top it all off. Hours spent researching for Anne's cure had formed a habit for them both, while the cure was no longer an issue, they still found solace in research together. Sometimes sitting for quite a while, each with their noses in a book, quite content in the other's company. It was an easy thing to say that Sebastian was her best friend at Hogwarts.

Despite the tiredness that nagged at her eyes, MC could not return to her common room without first making a stop at the music room. She had neglected her music today, and that would not do. She was looking forward to losing herself in a melody, everything else fading out into the background.

As she reached the top of the stone staircase in the Bell Tower and walked the landing towards the music room, she heard the sound of the piano being played. She paused in her step. While not unusual to hear music coming from this room, this particular time made her stop and listen. It was a piece of music she recognised, a classic, but it was played astoundingly well.

It pulled at her, deeply, and she moved towards the door carefully, not wanting to interrupt the player from such beautiful work. As she placed her hand against the wood of the door to push, a voice began to sing. It was a man, and the sound of his voice sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. The hair on her arms stood on end and her heart pounded as she opened the door just enough to slip inside. Curiosity had got the better of her.

The volume of music and voice swelled as she entered the room, and she closed the door carefully behind her. A few soft footsteps put her sight in line with the piano. Her eyes widened and a bolt of shock speared through her when she saw who was seated at the instrument.

It was Leander Prewett.

MC stared, her mouth agape as his long fingered hands danced across the keys, making that piano his own, delicate and heart breaking. The music soared and with it, his voice, she almost felt the prick of tears at the emotion playing out across his face as his voice conveyed the haunting lyrics, moulding them effortlessly with the music he conjured with his hands.

In the two years she had been at Hogwarts, she had never seen Leander at a piano, neither had she heard him sing. She was floored.

Leander Prewett was a studious, smart chap, prone to a bit of bragging and bluster, but always immaculately well presented and polite. He had an unfortunate tendency to bicker with Sebastian on occasion that was irritating to get caught in the middle of. MC either ignored it, or stepped in along with their other friends whenever it got a little too heated.

Never had she put him down as musical, and so wonderfully talented as well. It truly was a delight to witness, and had she seen herself, she would have bore witness to the smile that curved her lips, the softened look in her eyes.

The music came to an end, and Leander stopped singing, slowly removing his hands from the keys and placing them in his lap. His head remained bowed as though savouring those last few notes. MC didn't dare take a breath lest she break the silence of the room. It was a credit to the power of his performance. She could feel it in the air.

"So, will I do?" He asked.

MC's eyes widened. Leander looked up at her, a half smile on his face, but there was no mockery in his gaze, just honest amusement.

"I'm sorry," MC said, awkwardly. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She felt like she had imposed on something personal. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"Not at all," he said. He gave her a closer look. "Are you alright? You look a little flushed."

"I...I'm fine," she said. She took a breath. "Leander, that was...just beautiful!"

"Oh, well, thank you," he said. He didn't puff up his chest or smile with pride. He blushed, his cheeks turning pink under his freckles. "I don't come here very often, and when I do there isn't usually anyone else around."

"Then I consider myself very fortunate to stumble across you this evening." She meant it.

He looked at her, curiously. "I know you play too, I have heard you a few times. You're rather good yourself."

Now she was blushing under such praise. He seemed genuine enough and she found herself moving closer towards him. "Do you usually play the classics?"

He nodded. "Although, I'm not against the odd jaunty tune. There is a pub local to my home that has a piano, and I have been known to bash out the odd song."

She smiled at the image. "Do you sing these jaunty tunes as well?"

"It's been known to happen," he chuckled.

He looked up at her again, their eyes meeting for a moment. It felt different somehow, now that she had seen him so open like that. It almost flustered her to gaze into those pale brown eyes. She had never really paid much attention to them before, but they were actually rather striking.

She wasn't usually one to share her music, she guarded it possessively, but she was moved by him. So much so, that the words were out of her mouth before she could think twice.

"Would you like to duet?"

He looked taken aback, staring up at her. "Really?"

She nodded. "If I play, would you sing?"

He looked down at the piano, thinking, and then he was nodding and getting up from the stool, gesturing for her to take a seat. Standing this close to him, she realised how tall he was, her nose on a level with his collar. "She's all yours," he said. "What would you like to play?"

"Do you know 'Minstrels Sonnet'?" She asked.

He smiled. "I do."

Excitement bloomed in her chest. It was one of her favourites, but her voice wasn't quite the right pitch for the vocal. His, however, would be perfect. She rested her hands upon the keys, her back straight, and she closed her eyes, focusing. Then she began to play.

As always, the music flowed through her and she became one with the melody. Usually shy about anyone listening, she found she didn't mind Leander standing beside the piano. And then, he began to sing.

The song took on a whole new meaning for her that evening. Those few minutes that she played with Leander did something to her that she would never forget. They just seemed to slip into a rhythm, blending together effortlessly, and his voice carried the song perfectly, just as she had suspected.

When the song was over, she sat there stunned, her eyes slowly lifting to meet his, their gazes locking in the silence that followed, the echo of the song hanging in the air between them.

Leander smiled. It was a beautiful smile and it touched MC deeply. He was a kindred spirit, hidden in plain sight this whole time, he understood the power and magic that only music could conjure. It wasn't like their spells, or her gift of Ancient Magic. Music was something else, and it meant something when you met someone who shared that passion.

....*....

Leander was in a black mood. His day had not been going well, and he was tired. He had not been able to sleep last night, his mind buzzing with what had happened in the music room.

That particular experience was mind blowing, just utterly amazing, and he doubted he would ever forget what it had been like to sing for her. But, the way she had looked at him afterwards, now that had been a moment. It had made him feel valid, seen, and his heart had melted completely.

MC was beautiful. There was no other way to put it. As soon as she had walked into the Great Hall, late and already surrounded by mystery, he had noticed her, appreciated her from afar.

But, he was awkward, and prone to putting his foot in his mouth, and he cringed at how idiotic he had sounded to his own ears the first chance he'd had to spend time with her alone. She had been gracious, however, even playing a few games of Summoners Court with him now and again.

Any hope of being able to know her better had dwindled when she had formed a friendship with Sebastian Sallow. They had become inseperable very quickly, it was rare to see one without the other. By all accounts, they were just friends. But anyone wanting to get close to her, would have to get past Sallow first.

Sallow was the reason for his black mood today. A simple practise session in the Clock Tower for Crossed Wands had descended into another spat between them. This time over the bending of the rules of combat that Sallow claimed were loopholes, his cunning knew no limit and it got Leander's back up.

Fuming at being made the butt of Sallow's amusement yet again, Leander took the stairs two at a time, his long legs pumping effortlessly as he made his way to the music room. Playing last night had opened a flood gate, and he felt the desire to play more.

Maybe she would be here too.

Leander winced, a flush of guilt washing over him.

Elizabeth.

They had been on a few dates, she was his partner in Crossed Wands, and she was pretty, clever, and she had tried to console him just now as he stormed out of the Clock Tower. But her cool hands and worried eyes were not comforting. They only tightened the band of guilt that was squeezing his chest.

She was not MC.

Gods, he was the worst kind of boyfriend. It was shameful. He didn't wish to hurt Elizabeth, she didn't deserve it, but all Leander could do was push down the burning feeling he got whenever he thought about MC, just like he had been doing ever since he met her, and try to forget about it.

Girls like MC did not date boys like him. They dated chaps like Garreth, or Sebastian, or even Ominis with his ethereal good looks and family name. Leander did not place himself in the same league as them, and couldn't imagine that MC would either.

When he arrived at the music room, Amit was there cleaning his violin. He looked up and gave Leander a nod in greeting. "Hello, a bit early for you isn't it, Leander? I thought you were more of a night performer."

"Hmm," Leander muttered, distractedly. He eyed the piano. "I just felt the urge."

Amit gestured towards the piano. "Be my guest."

Leander sat at the piano. What to play? Something dark and brooding perhaps, or maybe something tragic, like unrequited love. A song came to mind, and it favoured the latter. He began to play.

He forgot Amit was there, and his thoughts tumbled around MC, the music projecting the conflicting emotions swirling over and through him. Last night had been wonderful, but it was also a torment.

He realised he wanted more of it. Much more.

....*....

Walking into charms class, MC saw Leander sitting with Elizabeth Tate, his Crossed Wands partner. Her gaze lingered on him as she made her way to her seat next to Natsai. Much like her thoughts, she was drawn to him. She could not stop thinking about the other night in the music room.

As the lesson progressed, her eyes kept returning to Leander, noting the way he held his quill, the furrow of concentration on his brow, simple things really. She had seen him countless times, shared many classes with him, but she hadn't really seen him.

Now he was all she could see.

"How are things with you?" Natty asked. "You seem a bit distracted today, my friend. I hope everything is alright."

"I'm fine," MC said. She frowned as Elizabeth put her hand on Leander's arm and kept it there for longer than was appropriate for a classmate. She leant closer towards Natty to whisper. "Are Leander and Elizabeth a couple?"

Natty's eyes flicked over towards the pair and she nodded. "Yes, I believe they are," she said. "It's not surprising is it? They have been duelling partners for a while now, and I think her parents know his parents, but I can't be sure on that."

MC nodded and bent her head down to her parchment. Leander had caught her looking his way again, that was twice now, and her cheeks grew warm. She endeavoured to keep her gaze on her notes from now on, it would not do to stare at boys across the classroom, especially when their girlfriends were sitting next to them.

But, she could not help it. That surprising connection she had felt in the music room just would not go away, and it had opened up a curious thing within her - the desire to duet with him again. This was a new thing for her. Her music was her solace, and yet, she needed to feel that again, that moment with him.

....*....

Professor Florence stood in front of the students she had gathered together in the music room, her hands clasped and her eyes hopeful. They were all processing the idea of a concert, something the professor had been hoping to put together for a while now. The students she had gathered were all exceptional performers, but it was getting them to all play together that was the trick, working together to provide an evening of entertainment for the whole school.

MC stood there, her hands clasped nervously. Her shyness over crowds and performing for people pressed down on her, but a small part of her heart beat in excitement. Her eyes wandered over everyone gathered, and she tried to imagine what sort of musical spectacle they would present.

It intrigued her, and this was surprising. Was she seriously considering this? The idea made her heart pound.

"Are you going to sign up, MC?" Amit asked. He was seated beside her, his eyes lit with excitement. "I think this is a wonderful idea."

"It's a great idea," MC agreed. "Although, I'm not sure if I have the time for it."

"We are all busy, but music is always worth finding the time for," Amit said. "I'm going to sign up. Seeing as it's our last year here, I think it would be a lovely way to end my time here at Hogwarts, and a great memory to look back on."

"Maybe," she said, thoughtfully. Her hands twisted in her lap. Her palms felt sweaty.

"Think about it, MC," Amit said. His eyes and smile were soft, kind. "I think you should do it, but of course, it's up to you."

Those who wished to take part needed to sign up by the end of the week, and she watched as Amit moved from beside her to add his name to the parchment that Professor Florence had pinned to the wall. Leander moved to stand with him, and MC watched as they chatted.

Would Leander sign up? Oh, she hoped he did. His was a talent not to be hidden from the world.

After some urging from Amit, Leander sighed and added his name to the list. MC released a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. Then Leander's gaze met hers. He gave her a small smile and then wandered off with Amit.

MC twisted her fingers together, anxiety and nervousness fluttering in her chest. She stared at the list, chewing on her lower lip, and then sighed. She couldn't do it. Maybe she needed to think about it, she didn't know. She had never performed publicly to a large audience before, and the idea was overwhelming.

Lowering her gaze, she quickly left the music room, the excited chatter suddenly all too much.

....*....

Friday night saw MC and her friends in the Three Broomsticks, the butterbeers were going down nicely, all of them unwinding after a long week of classes.

MC stood at the bar waiting for her drink to arrive, it was rather busy, and she felt the press of someone squeezing into the gap beside her. Leander gave her a quick smile and she blushed, apparently the new normal around him lately, and it was rather distracting. His scent surrounded her, and she was too aware of his arm close to hers, the warm press of it making her a little flustered.

As the bar tender arrived with her drink, Leander immediately offered to pay.

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," she said. But, it was too late, he dropped the coins into the bar tenders palm, and ordered his own beer at the same time.

"It's no bother," he said. He gave her nudge with his elbow and leant down nearer her ear. "Call it a bribe."

Her eyebrows lifted. "A bribe? Whatever for?"

"I noticed you haven't put your name down for the concert yet." He gave her a meaningful look. "You only have until Sunday to do it, and it would be a crime to not have you perform with us."

She swallowed down the butterflies erupting inside of her. She gripped the handle of her beer mug. "Oh, I don't know about that, I'm not much of a performer," she hedged. She gave him a curious look. "What made you sign up?"

He shrugged. "Thought it might be fun. Come on, you should do it. It's your last year, make the most of it."

"That's pretty much what Amit said, too," she grimaced.

"See? Do it, it will be great," he urged.

MC looked up at his keen smile and almost felt herself wavering. "I...I will think about it."

He sighed. "Well, don't take too long. Rehearsals start next week."

When MC rejoined the table, Sebastian leant towards her. "What were you and Prewett talking about, hmm?"

Why was she blushing again? She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "The concert Professor Florence is putting on," MC said.

Sebastian quirked a brow. "Are you taking part?"

"Oh, you really should, MC," Ominis chimed in, his smile fond. "You play piano beautifully."

"Leander is in, aren't you mate?" Garreth said, clapping Leander on the shoulder as he rejoined the table. Leander nodded, and smiled at Elizabeth as she took hold of his hand, her face adoring as she leant in towards him.

"Really?" Sebastian looked surprised. "You're going to give us all a little tune, are you Prewett? Now this I have got to see."

"I'm looking forward to it," Amit said. "There is a lot of talent putting their names down." He gave MC a pointed look and she shifted in her seat.

"Even you, Prewett," Sebastian said smirking. "I hope you perform better than you duel."

Leander frowned and Elizabeth glared daggers at Sebastian. MC put her drink down and gave Sebastian a look of her own. "Stop teasing him, Seb," she scolded. "For your information, he is rather good. I think he will be brilliant."

Sebastian stared at her. "Is that so? Spend a lot of time listening to him play his little songs, do you?"

MC blushed again, her eyes glancing towards Leander. She caught the tight little look that Elizabeth gave him and ducked her eyes downwards. "I've heard him play and sing, yes," she said. "What's so bad about that? You've heard me."

"But you are good," Sebastian said. He smirked towards Leander again. "Prewett's talents, however, remain to be seen."

"And what would you know, Sallow?" Leander frowned.

"Prove it to him, Lee," Garreth urged. He pointed across to where an upright piano stood in the corner of the pub. "Play us something, call it practise for the real thing."

Sebastian chuckled. "This could be fun."

MC's mouth tightened. Their stupid little digging towards each other was annoying at the best of times, but this one she was taking personally. Music was not a joke to her, and she knew how talented Leander was, how much guts it took to get up and perform it in front of others.

She was already on edge trying to battle her own nervous demons, because as much as she would love to perform, those nerves would swamp her and she was terrified of making a fool of herself. For some reason, Sebastian's attack on Leander, felt like an attack on her and it got her back up.

"For Merlin's sake, leave him alone," she snapped.

The table went quiet. MC glanced around at them all, her cheeks burning. Sebastian looked at her, a crease in his brow. "Alright," he said, slowly. "Since when did you become Prewett's little guard dog?"

Since he had stirred her soul with his music and voice. She met Leander's eyes. He looked as puzzled as Sebastian did. She wasn't even sure herself why she had snapped so hard, and Elizabeth was looking rather put out. Her pulse raced.

Garreth was right. The proof was in the music.

Maybe it was the beers, maybe it was some deep rooted passion for music, maybe she was losing her mind, but she stood up. The enticement of performing music with Leander was just too strong. After days of obsessing over the last time, she needed more.

"Come on, Leander," she said, her firm voice hiding the sudden burst of jangling nerves in her gut. "We will show them. Let's play."

MC strode away from the table, leaving a low rumble of mutters behind her as she headed for the piano. Garreth made a loud whooping noise and clapped his hands. "Yes, come on," he called out.

She heard the scrape of Leander's chair as she opened the lid of the piano, exposing the yellowed keys. She tested a few of them and nodded. It wasn't perfect, but it was in tune enough to be serviceable.

Her heart thudded and she took a deep breath. She could not believe she was doing this.

....*....

Leander could feel Elizabeth's eyes burning into the side of his face. They had argued this afternoon about MC. Elizabeth claimed that MC had been staring at him far too much the last few days, and she did not like it.

This little outburst at the table had not helped his case of insisting that there was nothing going on between them. There wasn't anything going on. That was the thing.

Okay, so maybe he had caught MC's eye more often than ever before a few times this week. And, maybe he was guilty of hanging around the music room a lot more than usual, his eyes checking the list to see if MC had signed up for the concert.

But, there was nothing going on other than that.

The way MC had snapped so bitterly at Sebastian had widened a few eyes, that was for certain. And the look she had just given him was so intense it made his mouth go dry.

Now, she was standing up and suggesting they make good on Garreth's suggestion. His heart picked up the pace as she walked across to the piano. Garreth gave him a wink and a nod, Elizabeth looked like she was about to thump him, and Sebastian was watching everything through narrowed eyes.

Leander pushed back his chair and stood, he flexed his fingers and followed MC.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked her.

When she looked at him he saw the glimmer of her nerves in her pretty eyes, but she fixed a smile on her face and nodded. "If I can't do this, then the concert is a definite no," she said. "Only one way to find out."

He could have hugged her right then. He gave her an encouraging smile instead. "Then let's do this. What are we playing?"

She suggested a fast paced piano duet and he nodded. He sat on the bench beside her, their bodies so very close, the soft press of her thigh warm against his. He took a breath and readied his hands, they exchanged a look and with a nod, they were away.

They had never played tandem before together, and to start with they did make a few mistakes, but at the adorable sound of a giggle bursting from her lips, he found himself grinning with her, and they continued to play, getting faster and faster.

People were beginning to gather and listen, clapping their hands along to the bouncy music. Leander's heart was racing, pub music was something he was used to back home, but this was different. Playing it with her was different.

His hand swiftly ducked under her arm to play in a higher key, he felt the soft brush of her arm, her breath against his cheek as she laughed. Warmth was spreading through him, and on they played.

When they finished they looked at each other, flushed and laughing as thunderous applause sounded throughout the pub.

"More!" Garreth shouted. Leander glanced over his shoulder to see him standing on his chair, clapping madly.

Elizabeth had her arms folded, and he felt his high spirits slip a little. He was going to get an earful for this. His gaze moved to Sebastian, who had a reluctant look of appreciation on his face.

"Another?" MC asked.

He smiled at her. "Another? Where are those nerves now, hmm?"

She gave him a sheepish smile. "Are you brave enough to sing?"

For her, yes. In a heartbeat. He nodded and suggested a song. She twisted her mouth a little. "I would need sheet music for that, how about this one?"

She tinkled out a tune across the keys and he smiled. He knew it. At his nod, she began to play. He didn't get up from his seat. He stayed right next to her, watching her hands grace the keys and conjure the music with those delicate fingers.

The pub fell quiet, people stopping their chatter to listen as he began to sing. Once again, they just seemed to entwine together, pulling the emotion out of the song and projected it outwards into the air around them.

He almost faltered, his breath evaporating when MC opened her mouth and began to sing the harmony along with him. He recovered his shock, his eyes flying to meet hers as she gave him a swift, shy smile. Once their eyes met, he couldn't break away. They sang together, her hands playing away on their own, and he forgot that there was anyone else in the crowded room.

When the song ended, they continued to stare at each other. He thought perhaps it was the longest eye contact he had maintained in his whole life. The room was erupting around them with cheers and applause, but in that moment, there was only her, and his heart was still singing.

A small tear escaped her eye and without thinking, he swiftly swiped it away with his thumb. The touch of it burning his skin. He pulled away again just as quick. But he saw the widening of her gaze and the way her lips parted softly.

And then Garreth was there slapping him on the back excitedly, his other hand patting MC on the shoulder as he cried out his praises. MC stood, and Sebastian was there, yanking her into his arms for a tight hug. When he pulled back to look at her he grinned. "If you don't put your name down for that concert, then I bloody well will. You were brilliant!"

MC flushed a lovely pink and she gestured towards Leander. "I did have some help."

Sebastian looked his way and gave him a stiff nod. "Not bad, Prewett, I'll give you that."

What the fuck was happening?!

A firm hand clamped on his arm and he looked up at Elizabeth. He swallowed. She did not look amused. His high deflating a little, he stood. Elizabeth was tugging him closer and then she kissed him firmly on the mouth, her arms snaking up to hug him as if to claim him as hers.

Leander held her, but he couldn't help but look over her shoulder towards MC.

MC met his gaze, her smile soft.

He hoped with all his heart that she would put her name down for that concert. He just had to perform with her again. She had to feel it too, surely, the lure of it was so strong he knew was going to be in for another sleepless night.

To be continued... Part Two

[afterdarkprincess]

am i allowed to cry?

Pairing: Sami/Jey Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1556 without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

Thank you so much to @motherknuckers for letting me run with your amazing idea - I hope I did it justice!!

tag squad: @feelschicken @elementaldoughnut12 @imabillyami @jeysbvck @harmshake @southerngirl41 (if anyone else would like to be added please let me know!)

AO3 Link

Tags: Fantasies, Angst, Masturbation, References to Blowjobs and Sex, Big Guilty Thoughts (full list on AO3)

---

The ceiling lights up, announcing the arrival of a text message on Sami’s phone where it sits on the bedside table.

It’s late. How late he’s not sure, and he doesn’t even know if it’s worth reaching over to find out. Kevin snores in the other bed, both irritating and comfortingly familiar. He’s been staring at the ceiling for a while, unable to turn off the thoughts that tumble around his mind.

He’d spent the last of his time with the Bloodline conflicted and hurt, at war with who he wanted to be and who the Tribal Chief wanted him to be. In some ways putting that chair through Roman’s back had been a relief, a way for him to finally escape from the cage he’d willingly put himself in, unaware of how it would change him.

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t have regrets. The relief he felt as the chair made contact with the Tribal Chief quickly soured when he saw the expression on Jey’s face. The way his face contorted as he screamed about trust and brotherhood. Jimmy and Solo had no hesitation, dealing with a traitor the way they’ve been trained, viciously attacking.

Taking blow after blow, he hadn’t known at the time what came from who, but later on he watched the footage back. Watched as Jey refused to join the fray, rolling out of the ring and walking away. He hadn’t intervened to stop what was happening, but he also hadn’t joined in. That wasn’t nothing.

He’s still not sure where he stands with Jey Uso.

The ceiling lights up again.

Who could possibly be texting him right now?

Juicy Uce 2:27am- [https://open.spotify.com/track/799….]

Juicy Uce 2:30am- thought you’d wanna see it

It’s a link to a new release from the artist that Sami has been obsessed with for a while, something he found out he’d had in common with the Samoan once he’d finally gotten past Jey’s mistrust and hatred.

He’s transported back to that gloomy morning in a gym in a hotel off the exit just outside of the middle of nowhere, their heads together with one wired earbud between them. (Jey insists the audio quality is better, Sami can’t tell a difference but he agrees all the same.)

Sami can smell the sweet shea smell of Jey’s shampoo mixed with his sweat, the butterflies he’s fighting against in his stomach at how close he is, the way his fingers can’t help but move to the beat of the song. In the weeks they’ve been on the road together he’s discovered that Jey Uso is never still, always moving, always at 110% no matter his mood.

He’s fond of Jey. Despite all the suspicion and hatred Jey’s spewed his way, Sami’s seen glimpses of who Jey really is. The way he loves his brothers and protects them from Roman and themselves, How vibrant he can be when he’s deep into a game of Mario Kart with Jimmy and Solo, the way he laughs when the blue shell he launched crashes into Sami’s character (Luigi).

Not to mention that Jey is just insanely attractive. The whole family is really, that’s clear to anyone with eyeballs, but Sami hasn’t been able to get Jey out of his head. The crop tops he wears certainly aren’t helping.

Sami doesn’t catch what Jey says lost in thought as he is, but Jey’s laughing and he can’t help but giggle along. A rare moment of peace.

Kevin makes a sound like a dying elephant and turns in his sleep. The ceiling stares back at Sami and it feels like judgement.

His former? current? best friend has made his feelings about the situation perfectly clear. Sami’s “obsession” with Jey Uso is misguided and useless in his eyes.

If only he knew.

The daydreams he gets lost in. The downright fantasies that he’s had about a man who at most thinks of him as a brother.

Well there were those looks…

His traitorous and hopeful mind. Shame floods his thoughts. He shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t want him like this. There’s no use in indulging himself when it’s never going to happen. Just like there’s no use in catching Jey in dark corners backstage and pleading with him to see reason and leave the bloodline.

And yet…

Sami’s unfortunately never been one to take no for an answer, never knows when to quit. Sometimes it leads to him getting his ass kicked, sometimes it leads to sleepless nights dreaming about soft bronze skin, imagining what Jey’s lips would taste like.

He feels his face heating up, his dick stirring in his shorts at those briefest of thoughts. This is becoming a problem, spilling over from his idle daydreams into his interactions with Jey, getting distracted at each touch and glance Jey sends his way, only fueling this foolish desire further.

How would it feel if Jey touched him in reverence instead of anger? Holding Sami’s face in those big hands, warm and steady before pulling him in for a kiss.

His chest pangs at these images in his mind, memories of things that haven’t even happened. How is it he can see it all so clearly? He rubs at his tired eyes, like maybe it will banish the ghost of Jey’s lips against his own.

It doesn’t work.

Jey’s there, kneeling on the bed in those tight boxers he wears to bed, miles of his stomach exposed to Sami’s view. He reaches out to touch, letting his fingers graze the soft skin, drinking in the sigh that Jey lets out.

“That all you’re tryin’ to do, Uce? Killin’ me…”

Sami’s dick is fully invested, aching and leaking onto the soft fabric of his shorts. His hand dips under the waistband, teasing himself at first.

Jey crowds into his space, seating himself on Sami’s lap with a sly grin, rocking his hips to brush against the growing erection in the ginger’s shorts.

Sami can’t help but groan at the delicious pressure, wrapping his hand around his length and giving it a few good strokes.

_Above him Jey moans, tossing his head back and shaking sweat out of his hair, and Sami can’t resist licking the exposed line of his neck, and he is lost, intoxicated and drowning. His senses are overloaded, Jey is everywhere and everything, the salty-sweet-clean taste of his skin, the smell of his expensive cologne, the hypnotizing swirling lines of ink that adorn his skin. His panting breath, hot against Sami’s face, combining with whispered curses into a beautiful melody.

Their bodies connected. Jey’s pretty pink lips stretched around Sami’s cock. Running his tongue along the planes of Jey’s body, tracing each tattoo, each intricate and wonderful part of him.

The back of his head knocks against the backboard, his hand working furiously on his dick, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. He bites his lip hard, trying his best to keep quiet.

Jey stretched out on a hotel bed in soft morning light. Laughing at him over breakfast. Back arched perfectly as Jey takes him into his body, tight, warm, home. The face he makes as he falls apart-

Sami groans, the visions around him disappearing as he coats his hand in warm sticky cum.

He sighs out a long exhale as he comes down from his orgasm, uncomfortably back in reality with Kevin snoring away on the other side of the room as his cum dries against his skin.

Guilt crashes over him like waves, making his stomach turn. Why does he keep doing this to himself?

He gingerly pries himself up out of the bed, moving slowly to not make any unnecessary noise as he makes his way to the bathroom. His and Kevin’s friendship is still rocky, and waking the man up in the middle of the night moaning the name of their opponent certainly isn’t going to win him any brownie points.

Sami cleans himself up quickly and efficiently before staring into his reflection in the mirror. The cheap florescent light only exaggerates the dark bags under his eyes and the bruise near his hairline, a harsh reminder of what really happened the last time Jey Uso put his hands on him.

But the superkicks and blows don’t match up to the Jey he knows, the man who showed him his true colors, the Jey that haunts his mind in stunning detail.

His eyes sting with unshed tears. After all what right does he have to cry? At the end of the day, he’s only torturing himself with these thoughts.

What’s he going to do? Take Jey up on their unspoken vows, say fuck it to everyone and everything and run off and live happily ever after? It’s not realistic. That’s not how real life works.

Sami splashes his face with cold water, wiping away all the evidence of his sins before making his way back to bed.

He burrows under the comforter and tries to get comfy, letting his breath match the pace of Kevin’s deep snores to try and get himself to relax. It’s definitely past late at this point and he should really be asleep.

He stares up, blinking his aching and tired eyes.

After a moment, the ceiling lights up with a notification from his phone.

---

Hope you enjoyed!!!

[imyourbratzdoll]

How are we feeling about a friends with benefits relationship with Colin Shea and reader likes the arrangement, - until she realizes it isn’t exclusive and she finds out he has several? T.T

Further elaboration: Reader has developed feelings for him in the duration of their arrangement because Colin had expressed she was special to him. How will he take it when reader calls him out for sleeping with others without telling her? How will he respond when she confesses her feelings? Wether it ends with angst or a happy ending is up to you. ✨>>

hopefully, this is what you wanted haha, I was in need of angst but I've basically read everything angsty.

summary - the reader finds out she isn't so special to colin as she thought.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

My head rests on Colin’s chest, trying to catch my breath from the previous strenuous activities. My fingers trace his abs, outlining them and softly stroking my nails up and down his hairy body. The peace is interrupted by his phone pinging, causing him to reach over and grab the device. A smirk begins to form on his beautiful face. 

I watch him as he answers whoever is on the other end before he slowly unwinds himself from me and begins to put his clothes back on, “Hey, can you go? I have someone coming over, and it’s kind of important.” His back is turned so he doesn’t see my face fall. I look at the time and notice it’s one in the morning, ‘who would come over at this time?’

“Oh, okay, uh, sure.” I blink a few times, not wanting to cry over something so stupid, sliding out of bed and slowly pulling my clothes back on. Colin comes around and grabs my face, and for a split second, hope fills me, thinking this is it. He’s going to tell me to stay and that he loves me.

“You know you’re special to me, right?” My heart flutters, beginning to smile as I nod, staring at his pretty blue eyes until the sound of his phone buzzing cuts through the air, filling the silence. Colin’s hands drop from my face, practically running to his phone as it continues to buzz. “Okay, well. I’ll see you.” He waves, eyes not leaving his phone, causing me to let out a shaky breath. The flash of a female's name catches my eye before I go.

I make my way to his door, not hearing Colin rush out of his room. My hand wraps around the handle as I open the door and bump into someone. I shake my head a bit, and my gaze travels up their body and land on a gorgeous woman. Our eyes lock, brows furrowed as we study each other.

“Oh, shit” We both turn and look toward Colin, who stands there wide-eyed and completely pale. My eyes move back and forth between the two, the pieces connecting like the simplest puzzle, and a gasp leaves my lips. I turn around entirely and stare at Colin. The woman behind me leaves, shaking her head and muttering something about men.

“Who was that?” My voice causes Colin to cringe, watching my eyes fill with tears at what I just witnessed. “Colin?” 

“Fuck! She’s a friend, okay!” He shakes his head, not willing to look at my face as he says this. 

“Friend?! What kind of friend comes over–” My eyes widen, and more of the puzzle connects. “You fucking asshole! I thought I was fucking special to you!? How many more ‘friends’ do you have?!” His blue eyes connect with mine this time, watching as rage fills my body.

“You are special to me! But we aren’t together, and I have needs! What, did you want me to sit around and only fuck one girl?! What does it matter how many I have, huh?! So what if I have several? YOU AREN’T ENOUGH FOR ME.” Colin sucks in a breath when the last words slip out of his mouth, watching me slowly break apart. 

I shake my head, and a painful chuckle leaves my lips. “I can’t believe I fell for you and your stupid fucking act, special my ass.” I turn, ignoring his confused calls as I head out of the door and into the lobby. I turn one last time and look at him. My eyes still hold pain, but my face looks emotionless, “Goodbye, Colin, great knowing you.” And that’s when I take my leave.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[milesbutterball]

Watch "Shea Diamond - I'd Love to Change the World (From "When We Rise"/Audio Only)" on YouTube

[thehauntedpoet]

Self-Care Tips

Self-Care is crucial and a fundamental part of relaxation + a great stress reliever after a long day whether it be from work, school, or otherwise! I am a firm believer that our bodies are so extremely important, and we are stuck with ourselves forever so, might as well take care of yourselves right? < 3

Scents: Fill your space with comforting smells that bring you peace + serenity.

Comfort: Cozy pajamas are the way to go, ALWAYS. Target has affordable, and extremely comfortable pajamas or you could try Amazon as well!

Wash the day away: A nice, hot shower has never steered anyway wrong! Some of my favorite shower products have to be the Philosophy brand (sold at Ulta, and on Amazon) I also enjoy the OGX body washes as well! specifically the Shea Soft + Smooth body wash; it smells like a mix between vanilla cupcakes and starburst yum!

Eat a good meal: Who doesn’t love a good meal? One of my favorite has to be sushi but on a self-care night I tend to gravitate towards far more filling + soulful foods. Soups, or stews are some of my favorite but, also you cannot go from with Chipotle. Whole Foods has amazing ready to eat foods, as well as other stores!

Turn on your favorite movie: I am such a series lovers. Recently, as I’m sure everyone was doing, I finished Vol. two of Strangers Things as a part of my self-care. There are so many comforting movies, (13 going on 30, Parent Trap, Tinker-bell) that are sure to make your night even more entertaining and relaxing!

Do what is best for you: Your body is so important! Nourish it, pamper it, and become your own bodies best motivator as well as friend. Become the best version of yourself + love who that person is <3

[scorpioracha]

Skz during wash day

This is one of my maladaptive daydreams that gives me the sweet sweet Sarah Tone nun😩

Soooo I thought I would share with you all

Mostly fluff a bit of crack and since I’m me NSFW themes

Bang Chan 방찬

-I feel like earlier on in the relationship Chan is a little hesitant to take part in your wash day routine??? Idk I feel like since it’s something he might not be familiar with, his initial thought process is to stay out of your way.

-As he grows more comfortable in the relationship he spends a good portion of the day just peaking in and out of the bathroom, making a list in his notes app of the products you use in case you ever run low

-Definitely reads up on natural hair forums and comes to you with seemingly out of the blue questions.

“Baby girl?”

“Yeah?”

“In your opinion what is better for your hair. Shea moisture or coconut oil?”

“…huh?!”

-Wants to be near you but still doesn’t want to interfere so he perches himself on the edge of your bathtub and just admires you.

-is not prepared for the mid wash day frustration. He sees you getting antsy and with his natural born cheerleader tendencies he tries to cheer you on.

-it did not work💀

“Baby girl you’re doing so go-“

“Boy. Hush.”

-he has learned if he wants to stay in the bathroom during this process, there will be no speaking.

-music is a must on these days. He’ll either play low fi music or some tracks him and the guys have been working on. The peace and almost quiet is something he’s grown to love on these days.

-Just the two of you, enjoying each other’s presence. Sharing songs and instead of words, encouraging grins and little finger hearts.

-Yeah, Chan loves wash day

Lee Minho 리노

-this gremlin.

-This motherfucker

-You never know what version of him you’re gonna get on a regular day, let alone wash days

-Being alone was never an option. He values your space just as much as he values his own.

-Just not on wash day.

-he’s got sharp eyes and an even sharper nose. If he doesn’t see you trying to detangle your hair in the sink, he’s going to smell it.

-Imagine the cartoon characters following the smell of something yummy

-That is Minho the minute you open any of your products. And the worst thing about him is he comes in silently.

“Mm coconut?”

“Jesus Christ Minho!”

-He’s definitely like a stubborn cat who just wants to be around you without being helpful at all.

“Baby please I can’t detangle my hair and hold your hand”

“… it’s my hand”

-cue grumpy Lino

-if you thought that was the worst of it you were solely mistaken.

“Jagiyaaaa…Jagi…love of my life…my reason to liv-“

“WHAT??!!”

“…I’m bored” :(

-Would never admit it to the group but honestly a big kid

-You keep him occupied by asking him to oil some rubber bands for you and it falls pleasantly silent

-Turns out he just wanted to be helpful. You can’t help but reach over and give him a little kiss. His ears flush read and he hums happily pulling you in for a few more.

-…wash day is definitely going to take the ENTIRE day at this rate

-but you wouldn’t have it any other way

Changbin 창빈

-Im sorry to do my baby like this but a little slow-

-Definitely has the spirit tho!!

-Unlike the other two he definitely wants to be hands on during the process, and I mean the whole process. You got braids to take down? Show him how to do it and park your pretty ass between his legs. You got a puff to detangle? aht aht sit your ass down😐👇🏾

-It’s definitely a learning curve for the both of you, him not having enough experience with natural hair and you having done it all your life getting a bit frustrated with him. He’s too gentle with the wide tooth comb and your life flashed before your eyes when he tried to run the rat tooth comb through a knot…his did too when you death gripped his hand on pure instinct🤠

-But since we know loverboy always wants to be all up under you he does research on his own time and comes back still as eager but this time with some knowledge to back it up and if he read the hair love book for visual learning then that’s between us🥲

-if you’re more independent and honestly don’t want his help in this aspect of your life then he’ll accept it and watch from a far or even entertain himself in a different room while you work.

-If you do accept his help he’s going to do everything he can to prove that he’s

A)a fast learner

And

B)more intuitive than he comes off

-he loves having you near him and honestly taking down braids or detangling is therapeutic for the both of you. He’s a romantic at heart and head over ass soft for you so he’ll definitely try to make the experience as calming as it can be—he’s seen you take down/detangle yourself and his own arms hurt from watching—you’re his baby and he just sees this as another way of taking care of you

-Be ready for tons of forehead kisses and unfiltered aegyo because this man is soft

-He knows how important your hair is to you so he has a bit of a heartgasm over the fact that you trust him enough to help. He can’t help but to lavish you in praise.

“you’re so beautiful yeobo”

“Oh? yeobo? Gonna make me Seo y/n”

-he blushes all the way down his neck and giggles but doesn’t deny it as he leaves kisses along your temple

Hyunjin 현진

-Oh you and this pretty baby? Your wash day becomes y’all’s washday.

-He didn’t really understand why you dedicated an entire day to your hair at first but once he saw the magic in motion he understood and he wanted in.

-Every time you pulled out the deep conditioner he would follow you to the bathroom giggling in excitement grabbing his robe and wash cloth because it meant y’all were gonna get naked and he was ready.

-you soon learned that kneeling down with your head in the tub wearing nothing but a towel

A)was really fucking annoying trying to keep it up

And

B) turned Hyunjin into a feral little freak

“Baby pleaseee I’ll be quickkkkk!”

“Jinnie, I love you but you’re getting shampoo in my eyes so move!!!”

The entire time he kneeled next to you and ran his hands along the nape of your neck and your back. It would’ve been cute if he wasn’t giving you his fuck me pout and not so subtly biting at his lower lip.

-yes a little freak indeed

-when you finally were able to rinse out the deep conditioner and sectioned your hair into four twists it was Hyunjin’s turn to get washed

-kneeling over the tub was a bit harder for him but he liked how close it made you two as you had to hover over him to get to his scalp

-Honestly has a spiritual awakening while you’re scrubbing at his scalp. Spends the majority of the shampoo completely silent wondering how he’s ever washed his hair any other way and the other half of it letting out little hisses and whimpers, eyes shut just completely focused on the feeling of your nails running along his scalp

-makes the rest of the experience sensual without even trying to

-He’s sitting there like 🥰☺️☁️😴💤

And you’re sitting here like 😳💦

-most of the horny goes away though when you wrap his hair up in a towel and he sits up starry eyed with cute rosy cheeks

-But he couldn’t be cute for long🙄

-While you cooed at him he wrapped his hands around your waist and snatched your towel, sprinting out of the bathroom towards your shared room

Jisung 한

-Oh Jisung Jisung Jisung

-our boy Sungie

-He is a ball of anxiety🧍🏾‍♀️

-It’s most likely his first time dating a black girl so his mind is just racing with every possible way he could accidentally offend you to the point where he just looks like this the entire time😀

-His first instinct is he wants to touch because it’s freshly washed and soft and smells like a lavender vanilla wonderland

-he knows he’s usually allowed to touch, but this is a different activity and a different context so he’s like 67% sure there will be different rules

-he knows the answer to all of his problems is just asking but his tongue feels a bit heavy and his eyes are darting back and forth between your hands and the comb and-

“Sungie baby, you okay? You look constipated”

“Is it racist if I really wanna touch your hair right now? I know this is a nuanced topic and I’ve been doing my own research because it’s not your job to educate me on these things but I’m really confused and it looks so soft and I love you so much and-“

You have to grab his shoulders and shake him a bit to get him to calm down. You then bring him to the living room, sat criss cross on the floor and explain everything to him and he has those big wide eyes and is gently nodding to show he’s really listening.

“So…I can touch?”

You can’t help but to laugh and pat his cheek.

“Yes sungie, you can touch. I’ll do you one better, you wanna learn how to do some twists?”

-and Jisung is anything if not a man up for a challenge

-you spend the rest of the day starting twists for him to finish until he gets the hang of it with a now full lap of snacks—the convenient store below your apartment was real convenient—and the tv playing your comfort show

Felix 필릭스

-oh ho ho ho ho, this boy is gonna be so helpful you have no idea.

-you usually try to schedule your wash days for when he’s not home so you don’t disturb the little bit of rest he gets inside, so it becomes a free for all for you. Music blasting, no pants on, face still a bit crusty from freshly waking up and food on the stove ready to be heated up when you’re done.

-you are completely in your element

-until you turn around and Felix is behind you with a grin on his face

-bro the heart attack you had💀

-he’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen balancing an assortment of sweets from a bakery near the studio and a camomile tea in the other hand

“Hi baby”he’d say, voice a little too raspy for your comfort. You narrowed your eyes at him taking a step back.

“Hi…?”

“Hyungs sent me home!”

“…why?”

“I have strep!”

“…youhaveWHAT-“

After you had certified that he was in fact not dying and had antibiotics in one of those bags you could finally relax.

-or so you thought?

“Whatcha doin lover mine?”he asks wrapping his arms around you waist.

“Move plague victim” you whines

trying to squirm away from him, he laughed—one of his deep ones that made you weak in the knees—and held you closer.

“Doctor said it’s a minor case, I’ll be better by tomorrow”

“Oh thank goodn-“

“But I told Hyungs I need the next few days off”

You were puzzled.

“Why?”

“Why?”he grins, “cause I missed my baby.”

“Oh you think you’re so cute”you’d say finally wiggling out of his grasp, walking towards the bedroom.

“As a button!” He called after you

-the house was quiet for a few more hours as you took your washday from being scattered around the kitchen back into your bedroom, Felix being fast asleep on the couch. All the excitement—and NyQuil—tuckered him out.

-He slept like a rock until the early evening when you finally finished the last braid for your braid out and went to go check on him.

-he sat on the couch, swaddled in a blanket looking at you like you had murdered his puppy.

“You traitor!”

“Huh-“

“You were doing your hair stuff without me!!”he whines, launching a throw pillow at you.

“M-my hair stuff? Baby what?-“

He huffed and stared up at you. “You think I don’t notice? At least every two weeks I come home from the studio and you smell like coco butter and coconut and yummy and I never get to see you do it and I wanted to see!!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you flop onto the couch next to him and pinch his cheek.

“Baby you were asleep, and you’re sick”

“Do you not want me to help?”he asks looking uncharacteristically serious.

-you had never really thought about it. You always assumed that he wouldn’t be interested or get bored. There was no point getting used to the help when he was just gonna wander away after a bit anyways.

“I always want your help, Lix”you say squeezing his hand, “it’s just-“

“It’s just nothing”he pouts. “Y/n I love you, all of you and I wanna be a part of this”

“Felix baby, it’s not really that big of a deal”

“Well it’s a big deal to me”he says, “cause you’re a big deal to me. Is there any way I can still help?”

-You sigh and bite back a smile.

“You wanna grease my scalp?”

“Yes yes yes!”he bounces in place.

-late nights in the living room sat between Felix’s legs as he hums softly and greases the parts one by one with total reverence.

-Being cherished wasn’t a feeling you were used to, but you could. Peering back to see his adoring eyes you sighed and leaned further back against his legs.

-yeah, you could get used to this.

Seungmin 성민

-Seungmin is another one of our quality time babies but is a little more lowkey about it?

-let me explain, our boy Seungmin is a lover of paralleled activities. He’s happy to just sit in silence working on different things as long as you’re in his vicinity.

-soooo this definitely applies to wash day

-You usually set up in the living room with your supplies while Seungmin is either in the kitchen washing dishes or in the living room with you doing his own thing.

-Definitely a supportive man, no price is too much If it’s in your benefit. But he’s also a little tease so if you want something from him you need to speak up. Part of this is him wanting to be a little shit but the larger part of this is for you to build up confidence in asking for what you want.

“Seungminnie…”you whine, burying your head in the crook of his neck. He chuckled softly and ran his hand across the expanse of your back.

“My big babyyyy”he coos, “All you have to do is ask”

“But…”

“Baby, do you want it or not?”he asks, patting your butt.

“I want it…”

“Then ask for it”he says.

“Fine”you huff, “can you please buy me a satin bonnet?”

“Of course cutie, you know where my card is”

-He doesn’t really get too involved? Not that he’s not interested in you, he just doesn’t see a point in stepping in when you’ve already got a routine working for you.

-If it starts getting too late and you’re still not finished, he’ll order take out and park himself in front of you to feed you. If he cares about anything more than you, it’s feeding you. Dating Seungmin is constantly having your physical needs be met, his romantic love language is taking care of his partners.

-you have never been so hydrated,fed and rested in your life.

-the minute it hits 9pm and you’re still twisting he mean mugs you until you spit out a takeout order.

“Boy, stop looking at me”you say raising a brow.

“Jjajangmyeon?”he says in response.

“Huh?”you answer.

“Tteokbeokki?”he questions, narrowing his eyes.

“Seungmin, once again. Huh???”you ask.

He stares at you for a few more seconds before realization crosses his face. He nods and pulls out his phone.

“Burrito bowls”he says and that’s the most sure he’s sounded in the past few minutes. You blink a few times, how did he know you wanted a burrito bowl-

“You still like mint choco ice cream?”he says, after a few seconds of tapping on his phone.

“Yes?”

“Done. 35 minutes” and that’s the last thing he says. You blink again and just go back to twisting.

Jeongin 정인

-Idk why I get these vibes but I feel like Innie takes this time as the initiative to spill his soul to you???

-I’m talking thoughts, questions,concerns,conspiracies all just word vomit out of him because he can’t keep quiet in general around you.

-he can boarder on annoying when he’s just trying to be affectionate so as long as you put your boundaries in place he’ll respect them ofc. But I’m talking pinching your cheeks, cooing at you, laying himself across your lap, grabbing at your chest—the entire works

it’s giving goo goo ga ga I got your milky 🍼

-ESPECIALLY if you’re younger than him, you become his little baby. If he’s not in your lap, you’re in his. Being the youngest in the group yet the oldest at home puts him in a little bit of a funky position so having you around means he has someone to take care of and it makes him feel useful.

-you find it a little fucking DIFFICULT to detangle your hair with his arms around you, but you guys make it work.

-he’s spooked by detangling—poor baby doesn’t wanna hurt you—but he is 100% down to help with washing and conditioning.

-his favorite thing to do is spray your hair with the spray bottle while you do detangle tho, and since he’s another little shit your shirt and neck will be getting soaked.

-I feel like if Innie likes anything he likes pre wash day preparations the most? Sitting in bed after sleeping in, helping you take down your hair. He was a little

👁👄👁?????

at first but once you explained that it didn’t hurt he found the repetition to be soothing, and you weren’t complaining. Four hands work faster than two.

-will steal your little rubber bands to put his hair in pigtails

Gets popped cause those little rubber bands don’t grow on trees🙄

-accidentally spilled your leave in conditioner and genuinely saw murder in your eyes

-he doesn’t touch your products anymore

[malimaywrite]

gavin/freelancer | mature | wc: 7.1k

cw: mentions of childhood emotional neglect

notes: she/they freelancer, physical descriptors of characters included, non-canon backstory included, banner image from 'fall of icarus' (1607) by carlo saraceni, title taken from 'sunlight' by hozier | read on ao3 (log-in required)

It happened when they clutched tighter to him as they both lay tangled in the pale blue and yellows of their sheets. Not the kind of clutches he was used to with heavy breaths and flushed lips. No. It happened while they slept, their eyes closed as they drifted along the in between away from him. All soft and tucked away—peaceful. They shifted and curled closer. His heart fluttered. Thrummed and hummed louder than the birds that darted past the window. He furrowed his eyebrows at himself. He'd lost count how often it happened now. When had he lost count? Freelancer opened their eyes. Smiled. And the sun rose inside of him. Warming him up and beaming the longer they looked. It terrified him. /// five times Gavin meant to say 'I love you.' (Takes place from months before to the night of 'Your Dom Incubus Confesses His Feelings to You')

the icarus to your certainty (oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight)

“You are wonderful, Freelancer. The light in my heart.”

It happened when they clutched tighter to him as they both lay tangled in the pale blue and yellows of their sheets. Not the kind of clutches he was used to with heavy breaths and flushed lips. No. It happened while they slept, their eyes closed as they drifted along the in between away from him. All soft and tucked away—peaceful.

They shifted and curled closer. His heart fluttered. Thrummed and hummed louder than the birds that darted past the window. He furrowed his eyebrows at himself. He'd lost count how often it happened now. When had he lost count? Freelancer opened their eyes. Smiled. And the sun rose inside of him. Warming him up and beaming the longer they looked.

It terrified him.

“Who's watching who sleep now?” Freelancer muttered, all at once too close and too far from the racing in his chest. They stretched away from him for a moment. His bare skin where their arms had been cooled.

He ignored the incessant noise beyond his rib cage and propped up a smirk.

“I'm simply primed for an early morning round,” he said.

They snorted. And his heart gave a hard thud even at that. He stilled himself with a deep breath—taking in all vanilla and shea butter. All them.

“You are greedy,” they said, dragging out the last word. Their smile widened and the sun brightened.

“I could've said the same to you last night.” He tilted his head from their pillowcase. “Or the night before or the night before.”

He found himself pulling them in closer and closer with each 'or.' Freelancer needed thicker blankets. The morning chill always managed to slip underneath their sheets was all. Pulling them closer long after they'd reached euphoria kept him warmer. That was all. He told himself so for the thousandth time, each time rang more hollow. But a couple weeks ago, he'd started to admit it was partially to stave off his least favorite part of their morning afters.

Freelancer's arm draped across him again. They buried their face just into the crook of his neck and along the pillow. He rested his chin on the cloud of their hair. His hand caught in the coils and curls there. His other trailed along their back while Freelancer's fingers drew lazy circles along his. Their chest rose and fell against him, light breaths against his collarbone.

He didn't know how long they held each other. He didn't, but worlds could have collided and Aria could have turned to stardust and he wouldn't have dared to move. He'd have gladly spent his eternity just like that. Home.

He froze. That familiar terror pinpricked along his spine again. It overwhelmed him, bubbled in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed it down. That usually helped. Freelancer's fingers stopped their art. He scrambled for a sly comment, an innuendo. Something to distract them and himself.

“You okay?” they said, pulling away. Dark brown eyes stared up. A line formed between their brows.

An instinct. He placed a kiss right along the furrow, hoping to will it away. His lips lingered for a moment. Their face soft when he met their gaze again. The gentle kindness in them. The awe that swelled in him as he followed the sharp line of their nose and curve of full lips. His heartbeat banged a loud and cascading roar in his ears.

For weeks and weeks that fear had blossomed from the smallest of seeds. Every smile, every gaze, every touch ignited it. Another swallow. It hardly helped.

One of their eyebrows rose. He finally got himself to nod. A pause. Another soft smile from them. And the sun blazed—blinded him. The sharpest terror struck him yet again and he realized its actual name, the phrase that explained it. The truest of words.

He loved them.

He loved them.

“You sure?” They curled into him again. Their turn to pull him in. “You stiffened up a bit.”

The three words echoed in his head like a song. He tried to think of another tune before the air in the room could dissipate.

“Of course, deviant,” he let out slowly. “Your naked body is pressed up against me.”

They laughed. “My naked body is pressed up against you often.”

“But 'often' surely isn't enough.”

He felt their smile against him before they rolled away with another stretch. They sat on the edge of the bed completely out of reach. There it was. There was his least favorite part of morning afters.

Freelancer checked their phone from their organized clutter of a nightstand, balked, and shot up faster than he could blink. They grabbed one of the sheets to cover themself. The three-worded song in his head played too loudly for him to conjure up a remark quick enough.

“'Often' will have to be enough,” they said. “I set it for PM, not AM.”

They grumbled at themself before darting to the bathroom in a half tiptoe, half sprint. The dragging sheet dropped before the door clicked shut. He didn't realize he'd had his own small smile on his face until the sound made it drop, until the room chilled after. The most unsteady of breaths left him as the faucet cut on beyond the door.

He loved them. He loved them with everything in him and he didn't know what to do.

///

It happened when she yelled. Or yelped, rather.

“Why are you headed towards the only other car in the parking lot?” she said. A quick and strangled laugh followed.

Gavin gripped the steering wheel—both hands, as she'd requested—and slowed their crawl of a drive across their corner of the campus lot into a near stop. Her car—Chip, named for the several paint scuffs that decorated its bumper ever since she bought the used vehicle—sat at an angle across the white lines.

“Because when I drive well,” he started slow. Wondered if he should elude the truth, slip out of reach of sincerity. “When I drive well, you stop speaking.” He failed. He wanted to hear her voice, his spellsong. Always.

Even if it only begged him to use a blinker.

A heavy pause. He'd shifted the air, stifled it of the lighthearted. He dared to look at her and her face scrunched up. Warmth radiated off of her with that small smile, blanketed and eased any twist of tension in him. Beautiful.

“What is a demon on the road to do without direction?” he said, catching the daze in his own voice.

Freelancer lifted her eyebrows. “You want me to command you.”

He'd shifted things back into place. The drop in her voice and playful twinkle in her dark brown eyes threatened to shift something else. A quick and subtle surge of sexual energy from her flowed through him, made him sit up straighter.

He smiled. “We have tried it a few times.”

He never longed to be a telepath, but the second surge that rushed through him in wave told him she took a moment to relive one of those tries in her mind. He wanted to relive it with her.

She shook her head after an audible breath. Her focus lasered in on the emptied pavement ahead of them. He loved when she did that. He caught it during her long—sometimes too long—study sessions, her eyebrows bunched as she peered over lines of text. He etched it in his mind when she squinted in the mirror, comb in hand, and she tried to part her coils for braids; when she huffed, cheeks puffed, and stirred egg whites into stiff peaks during their dessert days.

She took another heavy breath. The tiniest surge. Barely enough to taste. He held in a sly comment.

“Let's head out to the street after one more lap.” Her voice steady. “I have a reward for you if you decide to be a traffic law-abiding citizen.”

His turn to lift an eyebrow. Oh? “Yes, deviant,” Gavin said.

They'd squeezed in some driving practice between her 17th century western magic history and intermediate levitation classes over the past week. Huxley's away game meant an almost six-hour road trip over the weekend and Damien declared that everyone would contribute to the drive over and back. An agreement everyone felt comfortable with until Gavin mentioned he couldn't remember the last time he drove. Lasko's eyes had widened at that. And they only grew wider when Gavin mentioned he somehow still had a license, however.

Freelancer had offered a driving retread before the concern could spill from Lasko's pretty mouth.

Gavin hadn't quite needed the lessons—the only thing related to humans' fast-moving metal contraptions that really confused him still were roundabouts—but it meant spending more time with Freelancer. A gift he'd always receive with gratitude, with reverence. As long as their lessons didn't mean longer study sessions for her or added stress, he'd welcome it. He found himself taking a couple glances over to her as the towering thick trees and D.A.M.N. dorms whipped by to see if she did as well.

He eased to a stop at the oncoming red light, flicked on his blinker, and waited to make a right turn. Students roamed by in a flurry of school logos and heavy book bags. Once they cleared out, he headed on. The sidewalk pedestrians and bars of the university stadium entrance in the distance blurred.

Her lips pressed against his cheek. Light and quick, the softest of touches.

Heat rose along the length of his neck, simmering up to his temples and to the tips of his ears. Luckily, the next light caught them right at the line. It was a little harder to ease into that stop. What? Gavin didn't know it was possible to surprise himself.

“What?” Freelancer said.

Whiplash might have followed with how quickly he faced her. He felt the confusion on his own face. Freelancer raised an eyebrow, snorted.

“You said 'what,'” she said with a smile in her voice. She leaned forward. Looked directly at his cheek. “Are you..?” Closer.

He was. He had never before. And especially not over the most chaste of kisses.

He caused flushed cheeks—trembling hands, flubbed sentences, and ceaseless moans—out of others. Once he sensed the person's attraction to him, it could happen as easily as blinking for him. Not a single instance of nighttime rendezvous and midday flirting had someone made Gavin blush. What in all of Aria was wrong with him? A thrum, an echo, a song played in the back of his head yet again—bang, bang, banged in his chest. He ignored it. He had to. It threatened to swallow him whole.

“Deviant,” he said, all performance as the light flickered green and traffic continued on. “I have been graced with a sizable share of kisses from you. Along every inch of me.” His words slowed. His lips on her body a trail that his mind followed. “And—while a welcome gift—a soft kiss to the cheek can't be enough to make a sex demon blush.”

It can't.

It can't.

It was.

It was when it came to Freelancer.

“Plus, Chip's A/C isn't working as well as it once was,” he added before he could stop himself.

He felt her smile before he spotted it in his peripheral. Warmth radiated from around Freelancer in rays. The sense of comfort and care from her wrapped around him. He swallowed hard. The only thing he wanted to do was nuzzle in it. He opened his mouth, hoping to remind her of the many times Chip had to bear witness to their rapture. But Freelancer's hand traveled the length of his arm until she pulled one of his own from the steering wheel and laced her fingers with his. Their linked hands rested between them. Her thumb glided along the back of his hand.

That familiar and incessant pounding. A frantic search for a tease followed. She had wanted both of his hands on the steering after all. But he found something else first: a beg. A bellow of a beg for him to not send her hand away from his—to not mess up what felt right. Of course that was where his hand should've been. Of course it was always, always, always meant to be interlocked with hers.

Thoughts like that had grown to loom larger and larger, harder to cut down and distract with each passing day. Maybe. Maybe he could've let them roam.

He lifted their hands and gave his own chaste kisses. One to each of her knuckles. Each one pressed three words against her skin.

///

It happened while knots formed and twisted tighter, threatening to snap with every Mother's Day Sale commercial and multi-colored tulip bouquet that seemed to catch her eye. He called her name in the middle of the grocery store—his hands full of her preferred pastry flour—as she stared at a set of pink balloons. The words 'Best Mom Ever' decorated the plastic in cursive. He rubbed her wrist at Max's—calling her hadn't worked that time—as her eyes bore into two women that ate in the booth behind him. The only difference between their small features was age as they sat closer than what seemed feasible. Freelancer flinched and smiled away his concern each time—clouds covered the sun.

Each knot tightened the closer that Sunday inched. He attempted to distract her the best ways he knew how—worshiping every line of her, leading her to the wealth of bliss she deserved when she wanted. He attempted to distract her in the ways he'd forced himself to learn how. He binged every comfort show she'd mentioned during their pillow talks with her. He'd hum the tune to the one with the field and parks in the introduction, recite parts of the opening monologue from the cartoon with the air elemental. It earned him a smile that lit her up each time.

Gavin tried every “kitchen sink” cookie recipe he could find, swapping with the human and magic way each time. He tasted cookie dough with her and off of her fingers. Her eyes gleamed every time a fresh cookie instantly appeared in his hand. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time while they waited for batches to bake. He gave her space when she asked. He recruited friends when Freelancer had the bandwidth for socializing. Huxley, Lasko, and Damien up for board, card, and video game parties often. Caelum ready for couch cuddling and more cartoons just the same. Every time he heard her laugh, something surged in him. He could feel when the knots in her loosened ever so slightly as if they were his own.

But that Sunday still came.

Gavin tasted her as morning streamed in from the curtains, they showered together, and made breakfast. He made sure to keep the television on streaming—keeping the commercials at bay—all the romantic comedies lined up and ready for another binge. With Freelancer's head going from his shoulder to his lap in 45-minute increments, they made it through two movies before she got up. She headed to her room with her phone in hand as credits rolled. Told him to give her a second, to start the next one if she took too long for him. The final logos appeared before she did. A tight smile on her face and the knots even tighter. The same thing again after the next film. Another departure, another twist.

He didn't want to press her, only held her hand when she rested against him again. A reminder that he'd be right there when she wanted to tell him what caused the new coiling, if it wasn't only the day itself doing so.

Freelancer left again in the middle of the next movie. Gavin paused. The 'Last Holiday' summary faded in over the actors' faces as she darted by.

“You didn't have to. I've seen this part,” she muttered. “Sorry, I'll be right back.” Another attempt at a smile. It dropped.

Gavin's stomach did the same.

Freelancer disappeared into the room. He started for the door after minutes that moved like days, but she burst out of the room before he could make it to the hallway. The phone gone and replaced with her half open book bag.

“I have a lot to do,” she said under her breath. Her frown deep, her head aimed at the floor, her shoulders low.

She maneuvered around him. Dropped herself and her bag with a thud between the plush of the pastel green couch and the dark hardwood of the long coffee table. She rummaged through her bag with her eyes still aimed at the floor. His chest ached in the worst of ways.

The feeling radiating from her sunk him into the depths of Dahlia. The heavy weight of despair, the cold and sterile and impenetrable fog of devastation. His insides quaked.

“I still have two finals to get through,” she said. Her fingers flicked through pages, never landing on anything. “I just have a lot to do. We can finish the movies later.”

He sat next to her, taking her in. She didn't look at him. Her eyes blinked hard at her textbook, portraits of famous energetics and elementals of the past few centuries flashed by.

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to place his hand on top of her frantic ones, cradle her face, rub her back. Anything to soothe her.

“Freelancer?” he said. That dear word asking all the questions and spilling all the worries he had in him.

A pause.

Freelancer's hands stopped moving. Dark brown eyes still on the page.

“I'm blocked,” she said. Her voice harbored the slightest tremble.

His head tilted, but he kept quiet. Waited. Let that beautiful mind of hers work through what she wanted, what she needed to say next.

“She still won't answer the phone.”

The room went cold. The tears Freelancer had tried to blink away spilled over. She finally turned to him.

“Gavin, she won't answer the phone.”

A choked back sob. A tear inside of him. They reached for each other at the same time. He cradled all of her on the floor. She gripped his shirt tight as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, tears dampening his skin. His chin rested along the puff of her curls. His arms wrapped around her as if doing so was all that would hold him together too.

The devastation thickened, threatening to choke him. Every sniff and gasp from her tore at him. He noticed the quake that shook his being again when she trembled against him. His magic. It did the same with her. Shuddering. The thuds in his chest begged him to clear the fog, to send her pain to the stars. His neck muffled her soft cries. His magic burned when she held onto him tighter. He did the same to her.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so...”

He shook his head. He'd expected her to say it. She apologized a little less now when people bumped into her, when she said 'no' to things, but apologizing when any emotion besides pure happiness made an appearance still happened often.

“You don't have to apologize for feeling,” he said again. He'd say it over and over until he could one day sense her belief in it. “You're hurting, Freelancer. Let yourself feel what you need to without judgment.”

Freelancer's childhood and adolescent stories made it seem as though her parents never allowed her that. Treated her as though she'd come into being fully formed and ready to care for everyone without complaint. Stories of her walking home from school to an empty house right before her younger siblings—all expectations for her to heat them food when she was barely even big enough to see the stove properly, to help them with their homework before she got to hers, to send them to bed before she got to dream. Her mother's only comment to her after a late night arrival was to critique the way Freelancer washed the dishes.

How her mother's distance began after Freelancer first showed her mom that she could make her old dolls fly.

“At least she didn't seem to hate me as much when I helped around the house,” Freelancer had said the night she'd first told him with a soft and weak laugh.

Gavin closed his eyes. Held her just that much tighter just like he'd done then.

Tales of the gap years “tending to the household” between high school and her local unempowered humans' university, the several semesters of mornings working at her neighborhood bakery and getting her siblings ready for school, her afternoons in lecture halls, her evenings either back to work or with her head in her books filled the nighttime talks between them. Any mention of stress in those years, of not being able to leave her bed was met with irritated dismissal from her mother. The pressure had built up in her, right in her core until it cracked.

“I couldn't do it anymore,” she had mumbled against his chest.

“You shouldn't have had to.”

The shatter happened days after she'd had to declare her withdrawal from college—the financial, mental, and physical strain too much—and hours before the high school graduation party for her youngest brother. One cold comment from her mother about how late Freelancer managed to pull herself out of bed, another on how she cooked the breakfast eggs too early, another about how her cake's icing hadn't set properly, how she'd set the tables wrong, how she didn't know how to tie her brother's tie, how she was of no help.

Freelancer remembered crying and opening her eyes to screams, shouts of 'where did she go?' The table, couch, and breakfast bar stools hovered high against the popcorn ceiling. She hadn't realized she'd cloaked until she ran into her room, flickered in and out of view in her dresser mirror. Freelancer was kicked out of the house by sunset.

“Why won't she at least just answer the phone?” Freelancer whispered. Barely audible even with her mouth so close.

After almost three months alone, all she essentially had was the name of a rumored magical academy and the auras she could always vaguely sense, but not name herself yet.

Freelancer's softening sniffs pulled him back fully. He rocked her ever so slightly as her grip on his shirt loosened. He wished on Aria that he could go back to those months, to the day Freelancer's magic finally had to scream out, to the years she spent small, suppressing, and placing a household on her shoulders because that seemed like the only way she could receive a single emotion beyond disdain from her mother.

“It's my first mother's day without...” she started. She didn't have to finish it.

He couldn't make up for it, the affection and care she deserved then. No one could. But he would spend all his eternities giving her all the affection and care he had in him. He didn't know if he could pull her any closer, but he tried. He'd always try. Her breathing steadied and his magic, his entire being, did the same.

Three words roared in his head for the umpteenth time since he'd finally admitted them that one terrifying morning. He let them spill from his mouth. It morphed into three different ones. Their meaning all the same.

“I'm sorry, Freelancer.”

///

Freelancer pulled the sheet over Caelum as he slept on the couch. A couple of their multicolored scrunchies rested along the base of his lavender horns and Dory stickers sat along his puffed cheeks. The credits for the fifth Pixar movie of the day scrolled up on the television screen. Freelancer smiled down at him before moving a small bowl of tropical skittles away from his limp hands.

Gavin didn't fight the smile that rose on his own face. Nor how much it grew when they approached him. The sun, all warm and bright. He leaned against the doorframe to their kitchen as Freelancer stopped right in front of him.

“I'm so glad he doesn't have to rely on actual sustenance from us,” they whispered. They popped a skittle in their mouth.

Gavin tilted his head. “Oh, don't be so harsh on yourself, deviant,” he started, voice quiet as well. “You have been a delectable source of sustenance for me at least.”

They snorted. A roll of the eyes followed a flicker of a glimmer before they headed into the kitchen. He let out a small, soft laugh as he joined them.

Freelancer poured the excess candy back into its bright blue packaging. They clipped it closed after pouring a handful into their mouth.

“You know?” they said through the candy. “I refuse to wake him, but I don't want the last movie he watched tonight to be 'Cars 2.'” They seemed to consider then shrugged. “As long as he liked it though then it's fine.”

“He did go...what was it?” Gavin said.

“Ka-chow,” they grumbled.

His smile grew. “That's right. 'Ka-chow' about fifty times before we got to middle.”

They pulled out three mugs. Gavin already knew what they were about to make. He leaned down to the low cabinets. They set out the one big and small grater. He pulled out a saucepan to place on the stove and turned it to medium-low. Freelancer poured milk in and then pulled out a bar of their favorite semisweet chocolate. They both started grating after Gavin added a pinch of sugar to the pan like he'd seen them do all the times before.

They both gave reviews of the movies they'd finished. Gavin had taken a liking to the one with the little robot, swore to Freelancer that someone who worked on the emotions one had to be empowered, and wondered why anyone would go to a stadium to only watch screens in the monsters' college one. They both finished their grating and Gavin poured the shavings into a glass bowl, letting Freelancer heat it up in the microwave. He'd somehow set it to defrost and low power last time he tried to warm anything in it.

The first set of thirty seconds hummed to a beep before Freelancer spoke up again.

“They have exemption exams,” they said.

He raised an eyebrow, running through the monsters' college movie in his head again. “When did they mention exemption exams?”

They shook their head. “Oh, no not in the movie,” they said. “D.A.M.N.”

He stilled, barely. But it was enough that Freelancer's gaze traveled to his shoulders, his stance. He forced himself to loosen. He didn't even know where they were headed. An eyebrow remained high and he made sure a sly smirk covered his face.

Freelancer held steadier than him. “You remember a few nights ago?”

“I remember all of our nights, deviant,” he said. “We can reminisce on the first, second, and third time you came apart for me last night.”

They didn't take the bait.

“We only kinda talked about it once,” they said. “But, you've been mentioning things about school for a couple weeks now.” They finished with a soft smile. One that made him want to step closer.

Had he?

His comment from last week hit him. Whilst walking Freelancer to class, he'd somehow got on the subject of how inconceivably handsome he'd look in a cap and gown. Another from a couple nights ago where Freelancer mused over making their schedule for next semester, rambled over an electro class they were nervous to take. Gavin urged them to head to Lasko if a class ever made them uncomfortable. How he wished he could have done the same. A final comment from yesterday. Freelancer had sent in their last essay for the semester and during a celebratory round of pizza and wings, he'd mentioned how much he had grown fond of writing essays back then—even the research ones.

Freelancer made it sound as though there were even more examples.

“It was on the D.A.M.N website,” they started again. “They had it a little hidden in the 'academics' section, but you can take this pretty comprehensive exam and get full certification. We can ask Lasko about it.”

Full certification.

The words a pang in both his sides. He'd stored that hope away after classes where he'd caught a whisper or two of 'leech' as he passed rows of classmates, after more than one professor scoffed at his interest in any subject that didn't center around him fucking, when morphing himself into someone he wasn't to get an A made him want to fade back into the Elision Well.

Freelancer had asked him if he'd wanted to go back for full certification awhile ago. The conversation flipped when he asked them if they wanted to be 'full of him.'

He must have been quiet for too long. He couldn't gather up an innuendo in any of it. His mind rummaged through all the reasons he'd set that goal aside and buried it deep.

Freelancer wrapped their arms around him, looking up.

“We can do study sessions together,” they said with another smile that rivaled the stars. They rubbed his back. His shoulders eased. “I can get you back for all the other sessions we've had. We could do practice quizzes, we could do the whole review and have you explain concepts back to me, we could do flash cards. I love a good set of flashcards.”

Light swelled in his chest. He'd finally managed to move his arms around them, their words jolting his body.

“If you want to go the other route, I can make sure you don't have to take that shitty class ever again,” they said. All defiance and defense in their voice. He took in a deep breath and shea butter comforted him. “You shouldn't have to since you already have the credits. I'll head down to any counselor's office if they tried it.”

Gavin could not get a single word out of his mouth. Care and conviction radiated off of them with enough intensity to warm him up from the inside out. Waves of it hugged him tight.

“You get to choose how you get it,” they said, "if you want to get it."

That got his mouth to open, but he had to take more than a couple of deep breaths in. There didn't seem to be enough air in the kitchen.

“It was a joke, Freelancer,” he said, deflating. “They were jokes. What you all call 'the funnies.'”

Freelancer only kept their gaze on him. So gentle and kind. It overwhelmed him, stripped him naked in the only way that made him uncomfortable.

They nodded, but placed their warm hands along his cheeks to cradle his face. The slightest tremble of a chill rushed through him. Their lips against his, just as gentle as their gaze had been.

They tasted sweet.

Their forehead rested against his for days, months, centuries. All until they pulled away enough to look at him again.

“I know in my heart of hearts that you would do amazing, Gavin.”

The sun would never set again.

Gavin had to will himself to take in breaths slow. Freelancer's words carved themselves into the depths of him. He'd never had someone, anyone give the slightest hint that he could strive for something—accomplish something. Heaviness in his chest. That familiar thrum and song that played in his head. He welcomed it. And the tiniest candlelight flicker in the pit of his stomach, one that once went out when he too declared his withdrawal from school. It felt a bit like hope. That hope felt safe with them.

He wasn't ready to fan the flame larger. He'd explain that to them later. He didn't know if he ever would be, but their dark eyes on him made ask himself again.

“Thank you, Freelancer,” he said with his song. His voice garbled even to his own ears.

Freelancer dropped one hand and rubbed his cheek with the other. The room continued to suffocate him, everything in him threatened to bubble over. He almost asked to step away for a moment. Instead, he let his head tilt, let it relax into their hand. They'd beamed at him before he closed his eyes. Their thumb still grazed his cheek, their body so close to his. All warmth radiating from them yet again.

The softest of any laughs huffed through his nose. All those romantic comedies they'd finished. The declarations from the tops of monuments and between the greenery of parks. None of them—not a scene nor a monologue—had described love well enough.

He opened his eyes to the sun again and kissed them.

A knock and a creak of the door before it could even register.

“I tried really, really, really, really, really hard to wait for when smooches were over to ask,” Caelum started at the door, sheets wrapped around him and over his head. They pulled apart with a snort from Freelancer. It took Gavin a bit longer to blink out of his haze. “I even knocked like you told me to, Gavin, but I didn't know how many times to knock to stop the smooches. Smooches were making you both really, really happy and I want you both to be really, really, really, really happy 'cause it makes me really, really really, really, really happy times infinity and infinity is a big number. I think it's the biggest...”

Caelum continued his ramble as Freelancer turned off the boiling milk. They headed to him, patted the sheet pulled taut over his head and horns. Caelum interrupted his numbers ramble to circle back to the topic of 'smooches.' Another easy smile graced Gavin's face.

“After smooches,” Caelum continued, “can we watch Rata—ratatulle? Ratatoe? Ratatat? Ra—can we watch the rat one?”

Freelancer threw an arm around his shoulder. He moved closer into them with a little shuffle before they spun back to face the living room.

“Absolutely,” they said. “And I think it might even be infinity plus one times better than the one we just watched.”

Caelum gasped as they both left. “Infinity plus one?”

The door swung shut and their muffled talk faded. The small smile on Gavin's face only grew. A huff of a laugh through his nose. That light, a kaleidoscope of color filled him to the brim. The haze and daze still hovered all around him, spinning him around as he stood still. He half-wondered how his legs hadn't given out, how much wider his smile could get. His cheeks ached. The imprint of their hands continued to warm them.

That candlelight flicker in the pit of his stomach grew.

///

“Really though,” Freelancer said, gesturing to the night sky. “She's gonna wake up every day not knowing who he is or her own kid. In her mind, she went to bed years ago in her own room in a house with her dad and brother. She wakes up and she's on a boat with a whole kid and husband.” Their jaw dropped. “The days where she woke up visibly pregnant.” Their eyes widened.

Gavin snorted as they huffed. Their head rested on his lap. They both lounged at the center of the courtyard along the trimmed grass, between the reach of high-branched hackberry and pistache trees—Huxley had told him the names. Underneath lamp posts' glows, an occasional student strolled down the alumni bricks of the walkways—the names and years of graduates of old etched into the steps leading to study halls.

“Horror story,” Freelancer finished. A forced shudder ran through them. “Not a bad movie, but I think we should start on the pure comedies next.”

He raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to..?”

A smile from them. One rose on his own face before he even noticed it.

“Is there one you want to start with?”

He'd considered after a moment. Freelancer asked him what he wanted often—movies, food, how he wanted them—and he still wasn't used to it.

“I do remember a certain 'Spaceballs' coming up in conversation,” he said slow, ready for their reaction.

“How did I not guess that would be the title you'd remember?” they said. They rocked side-to-side against him. “We should do that first then try 'Friday.'”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Don't the five of us have that trail hike then?”

They shook their head. The curls of their afro danced along his upper thighs. He placed a hand along the coils puffing at their hairline, fingers gliding over the soft strands. Freelancer closed their eyes for a few moments and breathed in deep. That familiar warmth radiated off of them. Their eyes shot open.

“Oh, no,” they said. “It's a movie.”

That didn't help the confusion. “They made a movie about a day?” A head tilt. He shrugged inwardly the humans made movies about talking toys. The concept wasn't that odd.

“Not technically,” they said. “It's a specific Friday for these characters.” A pause. “It's where that one old phrase 'Bye, Felicia' came from.”

His expression must have given him away. They seemed to read it quickly.

“It's a phrase to dismiss someone,” they explained, waving away the sky. “She was a neighbor?” Another shake of the head. “She came over to the main character's house and wanted to borrow their microwave. Or was that a different scene?” They waved themselves away that time. “We'll see.”

He huffed. “Why anyone would want to do that escapes me.”

“One day I'll get you to use one properly,” they said with a quick laugh—music that floated up beyond the leaves.

He waited for both songs to quiet just enough for him to speak.

“There are more important lessons, my deviant,” he said. A pull dragged him down to kiss them.

Freelancer kept their eyes closed long after he'd straightened back up. Their full lips drawn into another smile. Gavin nearly kissed them again.

Their recent movie review soon followed. Freelancer reminisced over the 'dial-up noise' and the robotic 'You've Got Mail' voice. They both bounced scenes of their favorite Tom Hanks—Freelancer had to remind him of the actor's name twice—movies. They each attempted to remember the complete, itemized list of the ways to make shrimp that one of the major characters mentioned in a favorite—they always forgot one of the two ways to fry it.

Their talk trailed off into Gavin's attempt to help Freelancer make fried sweet potato hand pies and how often Gavin had asked them why they'd clutched a box of baking soda so tight. They agreed to make the apple pie version soon and Freelancer remembered the last time they'd had it. They'd scarfed them down on an elementary school camping trip as all the other kids looked up at the stars too and made up their own connected constellations. Freelancer and Gavin proceeded to do the same through fits of laughs and innuendos Gavin made sure to find. And Freelancer asked if they both could look at the same set of stars when he was in Aria.

The moon roamed higher in the black ink of the sky and they quieted down after long, settling into comfortable near-silence of cicadas and footsteps. The gold hue from the lamp posts painted Freelancer's dark brown skin, highlighted the same deep tone in their eyes. Both of their gazes remained locked on the other and that was all it took.

The earth pulled him under and he couldn't look away from them, tethered. He felt his breaths deepening, felt the air shake inside him. The song drummed in his head louder than any passing conversation and toll of the courtyard bell. It traveled down from the top of his head to the tips of his ears to the center of his chest. Louder and louder as they looked at each other. That haze of light, of care and affection and warmth was home to him. It hovered from them to him. He knew it radiated from him too. He wished they could sense it from him. He had to let them know. He needed them to know.

His heart, all double-timed thuds slammed against his rib cage at the prospect. My love, my love, my love was what the thuds sounded like. He swallowed hard.

Gavin had to distract himself. Had to pull back.

He kissed Freelancer instead.

Slow, languid. The song deafened him. Their lips soft against his. The roaring, the pounding only grew louder. He had expected it.

He breathed them in once their lips parted, finally a steady inhale.

Gavin meant to mutter one of his innuendos. He scavenged for one about the kiss, about their head in his lap. Anything. Anything to lessen how overwhelming it was just to look into their eyes again. He couldn't find one.

He sat there with Freelancer under the stars, holding each other with their gazes, and that was enough for him. More than enough. It felt like coalescing, coming into being all over again when he was with them. All natural and ease and magic. That same magic thrummed in him like it called to them.

Gavin was so immensely and impossibly happy.

“What are you thinking?” Freelancer said softly.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

An instinct.

He let that clear and truest song play as his scavenge finally found him a sly remark. It felt like the last one he would be able to dig up over this before everything in him forced out that spellsong to them. His fingers trembled as he laced them with theirs.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

An unsteady breath once again.

“What you'll look like tied up underneath me,” he said low. Voice trembled even more than his hand had, more than any teasing comment that slithered from his mouth ever had.

Freelancer didn't scoff or roll their eyes. No wave or ripple of sexual energy rushed off of them. No soft slap to his chest or giggling shift away from him. Only that same warmth. Brighter.

They squeezed his hand.

“Me too,” they said. Just as low as him. Their eyes gleamed as he watched their smile rise.

And sunlight beamed in the middle of the night.

[hettiesworld]

Jeremy Renner

Coast

I'm Just Ken

Oodie-Boogie

Every Woman (Female OFC) | She's a Fire (sequel to Every Woman)

Music Sounds Better With You - 1 | 2 | 3

I... Don't Like Coffee (Female OFC)

Incredible Eyes

Trouble (Sheriff!Jeremy)

Imagine: Attending a Jeremy concert without knowing it's him...

Run To You (professor!Jeremy) - 1 [DISCONTINUED]

bad idea right? (Female OFC)

Jeremy song fics masterlist

Clint Barton

I Need Therapy

Hide and Seek

Rise Up (Clintasha)

Mike McLusky

Sacrifice (male OFC)

Come as You Are (female OFC)

Chris Evans

I Recommend a Daddy

Pity Party

Lessons in Love

Other Jeremy characters

Unnamed [renamed it No Lie] (William Brandt)

Runaway (You and I) (Jerry Pierce) - 1 | 2

The Riddle (Penn) - 1 | 2

Waking the Witch (Non-Vampire!Penn)

I Am The Law (Brian Gamble)

The Bodyguard (William Brandt)

War and Peace (And Love) (Sergeant James) - 1 | 2

Kids (Mark "Dags" D'Agastino)

Misc characters/actors

Band of Gold (Lance Tucker)

Orange Juice (Ransom Drysdale/Charles Blackwood) - 1 | 2 [DISCONTINUED]

Walking on the Moon (Ian Donnelly/James Mace/Chris Beck) - 1 [DISCONTINUED]

Perception and Mischief (Loki Laufeyson) - 1 [DISCONTINUED]

Soldat? (Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton)

Knowing Me, Knowing You (Jake Jensen)

When The Party's Over (Ransom Drysdale)

Invisible Touch (human!Vision)

S Is For... Something Else? (Andy Barber)

Quarantined (Avengers cast) - 1 [DISCONTINUED]

Unnamed (Charles Xavier)

You Got Me Twisted (Ransom Drysdale)

Say So (Colin Shea)

Class Fight (Kyle - The Perfect Score)

Tainted Love (Jake Wyler)

The Distance (John Doe - Twisted Metal series)

Asks

Will Brandt headcanon - Patching each other up after a fight

Chris Evans headcanon - Taking care of you after a rough day

Hansel headcanon - Going on a witch hunt with Hansel

Fic request - Jeremy and the reader on a Zoom call in quarantine

Ransom headcanon - Falling in love for the first time

Fic request - Cornelia Street (Steve Rogers)

Ransom headcanon - Mean daddy with naive!reader