#Please ignore this feeling a little under the weather lmao

[silverquillsideas]

Maybe my writing is totally shit. Maybe it's boring and repetitive. Maybe nobody cares.

But do I care about these characters? Do I care enough to write about them? To tell their story?

Yes. I do.

So I'll continue to write.

Because if I don't tell their story, then who will?

[totally-not-deacon]

Last Minute WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by... no one, I just feel like sharing lmao. And in turn, tagging... also no one.

So my current fic(s) aren't much more than sets of semi-coherent scenes at the moment, but I'm having fun reworking Diplomatic Immunity AND getting to write Arandil as the absolute chatterbox he is.

Under the cut cause it's long-ish.

The carriage ride from Solitude to the embassy wasn’t particularly long, but the biting cold had long left Nelurya’s ears both throbbing and numb, the tiny flame in her hands barely taking the edge off. She ached for the warmth the embassy no doubt held, even despite the frigid hearts within. Several of the gilded Thalmor guards along the path eyed her with suspicion, no doubt her choice of vibrant Dunmeri attire drawing their attention – gold, spider silk, and iridescent blue-green chitin a beacon against the drab landscape. She did still have standards, and well, Radiant Raiment certainly wasn’t going to cut it. Paying them no mind, she approached the gated building, only pausing when her path became blocked.

The Altmer ahead had his back turned to her, making light one-sided conversation with a guard obviously freezing and bored out of his mind. He’d clearly been at it for a while, little piles of snow collected on the shoulders of his robed uniform that he dusted off idly. Tiny droplets of water fell from the ends of his long, wavy hair as he pushed it from his face, stage-whispering something she couldn’t make out at the guard who nodded along dumbly. Something felt… off. Her head snapped to the mer when he let out a tittering, familiar laugh.

“Ari?! What are you doing here?” Arandil spun around, face splitting into a saccharine-sweet grin at the sight of her. He quickly guided her by the shoulder away from the guard, who seemed far more relieved than anything to have Arandil’s attention directed at someone else.

“Ah, there you are, serjo!” The title was stiff and foreign on his tongue. Under other circumstances, she’d laugh. “Did I use that correctly? I was beginning to worry – such a nasty snowstorm, isn’t this? This weather must be quite a change from Morrowind for you.”

“What are you talking a–” She glared in confusion.

“Oh, dear cousin Elly seemed rather pleased to receive my letter – we were quite close as children, you see – and immediately responded with an invitation. Isn’t that wonderful? I do so love parties, it’s been far too long.”

“Okay, but –”

Arandil cut her off. “She’s always had a mind for networking, you know. Far more than I ever did. Anyway, as I’m writing her I have a thought. ‘Who could I bring as a plus one?’ Why, I say to myself, what about a representative of the Great House Indoril?”

“Really? You are aware I’ve been practically disowned for decades now, right?” Nelurya hissed, he ignored her.

“So I mention in my letter, ‘I met a most fascinating mer of some stature a few months ago on a visit to Mournhold.’ They would simply love to experience true Thalmor hospitality, perhaps even discuss opening diplomatic relations, I say. All things sure to get on Elenwen’s good side.” He gave her a pointed look.

Right. His plan dawned on her. She didn’t like it one bit, but she had to admit it was marginally better than her own plan of ‘Run In And Try Not To Die’. Nelurya took his offered arm, straightening her posture and schooling her features – looking every bit the Morrowind aristocracy she technically still was as he led her up the stairs. She let her mind settle to old habits and years of training, the formalities and etiquette of her youth surging forth like it had never left. Whether from cold or nerves, she couldn’t suppress a whole-body shiver.

“You look lovely, by the way.” He whispered before opening the doors, smiling at her eye roll.

[husbandograveyard]

Hi Hazel! I hope you feel better soon!

Leona, our beloved drenched cat (affectionate).

I've been meaning to invest in some leggings for ages so that I could wear dresses in the winter but I never got around to it haha. Maybe it's time.

That makes sense! If you don't mind sharing, I'd love to learn more about your OCs. I like the idea of OCs but I'm not creative enough to think about characteristics and personalities.

Sending you all my Twst gacha luck! May everyone come home within a few pulls.

I've been reading books lately! I'm trying to get back into the habit of reading but I don't have the attention span haha.

Wishing you a speedy recovery and reminder to drink lots of water! Sending you lots of love -berry anon

Hiya Berry! He truly is our (beloved) drenched cat, hehehe. 100% recommend the leggings, maybe this is a sign haha.

I am getting better, definitely. I was sick for the better part of a week, and I am still pretty tired, but I am feeling more human again every day.

What kind of books are you reading? I try reading a bunch of books every year, but I am gloriously failing this year, I haven't been able to participate in book club much either. I need to find a balance again... and it is hard to keep off of my phone. What's your favorite book? Any recommendations?

With fall finally feeling like fall, it's ideal reading weather. Burn some candles, have a nice mug of a hot beverage and a blanket over your lap, some atmospheric music in the background.. ugh maybe I should just get to it again as well... I have a huge stack of unread books and manga (did I tell you yet I got the twst manga too? Only the first volume was available yet, the rest is in pre-order for now, but it looks GORGEOUS the art is fantastic!)

As for twst, glorious masquerade is here, and I am anxiously waiting for the Idia card to drop. I have my 200 pulls ready so he is guaranteed, but I hope he doesn't make me go all the way. Fingers crossed.

As for my OC's. I will GLADLY share, but I am SO SORRY I cannot possibly keep this brief... so I added a cut, and please feel free to just.. ignore it if it's too much, I love my OC's loads and am always a little embarrassed to talk about them because I will gush and this is... so so so long. So... here goes, OC ramble under the cut. Even if you don't get through it, wishing you a wonderful reading time and beginning of fall! Hope to hear from you soon! <3

Disclaimer before diving into my OC's (also for other people reading this). All these OC's are female, I am aware NRC is an all boy's school and this makes no sense, but these are my OC's and my alterations to the storyline, and I just go for a mixed school (with more additions, but more on that later). Some of these are more developed than others, but I love them all dearly.

Okay so I have 6 twisted wonderland OC's aside from a Yuusona which is a blatant self-insert/Yuu for in the games. I'll share a visual (the visuals are all made with the Rinmaru fantasy generator + 2 pieces of my own mediocre art) and a little blurb on their Unique magic, personality, 'storyline' (and partner, as most of them are made 'for' a specific character) and other relevant things, if there is such a thing, cause not all of them have that much. There are some very clear and some less clear Disney references in most of them, especially the unique magics. At least I tried.

Dannah Caliiya (Pronounced: Day-nah Kalee-ya)

(with this, debut of my art, lmao)

Dannah is a Gazelle beastman, and a Savanaclaw student. She is happy-go-lucky, carefree, and very athletic. She is of average intelligence, but has massive trouble concentrating, a personification of the worst of my ADHD, if you will. She gets literal zoomies and brain zoomies, which make her a menace to have in class (especially Trein), but a delight to have in sports clubs. She is part of Savanaclaw's spelldrive team, and actually one of their star players. Her magic skills are mediocre, but her stamina is unrivalled, she can outrun nearly all other Savanaclaw members.

Her partner is -of course- Leona, and the idea came off of a romeo and juliet-esque 'forbidden' romance of what would traditionally be considered not-done, in the sense of an absolute commoner and royalty, but with a hidden layer of what could be considered a prey animal and a predator (even though beastmen don't necessarily live by those dynamics). She is, by all means, Leona's 'herbivore' (affectionate).

Her unique magic is Everything the light touches, a spell that makes a bright light appear in a location of her choice. The brightness depends on the power of the spell, and can either light a way (even through magical darkness) or temporarily blind other people.

She expresses affection towards friends, family and romantic partners by gently bonking her forehead into theirs. For Lions, rubbing ones face against someone else is generally a more intimate gesture, which will lead to some awkward misunderstandings in the beginning of the friendship between her and Leona.

Lexi Greydance

Lexi is another Savanaclaw student, and she is also a beastman. It's not very clear from the dress up generator, but she is a Crocodile beastman. She is not a very book-smart kinda gall. Practical magic is her forte, but no one ask her any theoretical stuff, she'll draw a blank and just guess (and guess wrongly 9/10). She's overall pretty charming but has no filter, which makes her come across as blunt or sometimes even rude to those that don't know her. She does mean well. She's pretty athletic, but doesn't necessary act on it. Loves sunbathing cause she's always cold. She is pretty but doesn't put much effort in it, hot mess couture, she has this permanent "just woke up look." Her unique magic is "your head is in the clouds" Clouds appear around a targets head, blinding, deafening and disorienting them for the duration of the spell. Works best on 1-3 human-sized targets, but more is possible, it just gets harder to keep the spell going/or the spell weakens. Training can better this eventually.

She gets paired with Jack, and her role is not necessary one of a student, but more of a house 'mother' by the lack of a better word. She is actually around the age of the students, and is there as an aid to the housewarden, whoever it may be. She divides chores for the students and makes sure they're done, helps organize school- and dorm activities, oversees clubs... She gets along with Leona well enough, and they have a bond of mutual respect. They leave each other alone most of the time.

Mei Meduzo

Meduzo means Jellyfish in esperanto and she is a Jellyfish-mermaid, based on a phantom jellyfish, also known as Stygiomedusa. So I thought the name was a nice mix of origins, translation and an alliteration.

As a mermaid, I think it's quite easy to guess she's part of Octavinelle, and she is also part of the fish mafia (Azul/Floyd/Jade). She is calm, collected and polite. She is very charming and intelligent, but errs on the lazier side for actually using her skills. She is a musician, able to sing and play violin. She works in the Mostro lounge, either behind the bar or playing background music. She also sometimes participates in their more shady business dealings; I'd like to call her Floyd's squeezing buddy. All her earnings go to luxury products, mostly makeup, accessories and clothes. She likes spoiling herself.

(since scientists still don't really know how the Stygiomedusa catches prey with their very drape-like tentacles (there are not many spotted yet), one of the theories is that prey basically gets smothered and suffocated in the drapetacles. So, I Imagine she can help Floyd with squeezing, although she is more elegant about it.)

I have no unique magic for her yet and I am not sure if I will ever get her any. Her partner is Jade. They both have the same brand of customer service smile and politeness, with some darkness lurking under the surface. They are deeply in love, but no one (except for those very close to them) knows about their relationship, just cause they are mostly reserved in public.

Leah Blackwell

A shorter one in between, as a little resting place for you, if you're still reading. We're past the halfway point hahah, I am so sorry. I just go ham when I can ramble about my OC's.

Leah is a concept more than an actual OC. She is a princess, but I don't know of where just yet, and she is at NRC to learn how to be *independent*. She was raised extremely sheltered though, always had servants do stuff for her.

She ends up in Scarabia and is best friends with Kalim, and in turn, a huge pain in the behind for Jamil, who now has to practically babysit TWO spoilt children that HONESTLY don't know any better. She tries out to help but will 10/10 accidentally set the kitchen on fire doing the dishes.

Aestrid Anktha

another one of my silly drawings Drawing context: Jamil has been up since 4am prepping and says that he is 'fine' and 'doesn't need any help'. Aestrid has a dark aesthetic but a soft personality. She loves reading and learning. If you need help acing exams, she's gonna be your key to succes. She will read an entire antology of magic for some light bedtime reading. She is always willing to help others out, maybe even a little bit of a pushover (make that definitely, she is definitely a huge pushover). She'll stay up late to tutor those who ask nicely. You do have to ask nicely. She will take over any and all chores or at least help. BUT if the chore is a punishment, she won't, purely out of principle. She follows school rules, values good grades, but also a proper balance of free time and chores.

Her unique magic is "Itty bitty living space" - shrinking someone to a tiny size, and sealing them in a magical bottle. They don't run out of oxygen nor do they get hungry or thirsty, it's confinement. Not death. Once the bottle is opened or destroyed the person gets back to their regular size.

She is in Scarabia, and she is Jamil's girlfriend. Their relationship is a slow-developing one, because she is extremely shy, and it's easier for her to hang out with Kalim than Jamil, even though she has a massive crush on the latter. And since Jamil is so guarded and rarely shows his true colors, it takes a while for them to get close. They bond over chores though, Aestrid always helping out Jamil when he's doing servant tasks on top of vice housewarden chores and some of the housewarden chores as well.

Melanie Furea

[picture is a temporary placeholder made on picrew, I actually want to draw her]. This is my most recent and most elaborate OC. This one has the most story-info, is the only one not at NRC (so could technically be integrated into the story without making NRC a mixed school), and she is the one I am most proud of (I think Dannah, Aestric and Melanie are my three main babies). The story has some obvious mistakes, plotholes and otherwise still, so please ignore these as I am still finetuning her and figuring out how blot etc works precisely. I know you're not really into twst that much anymore, so idk how much you know of chapter 6, but there are some spoilers in here, just so you know. I will keep most things vague.

Melanie Furea - her friends call her Mel, at least they would, if she had any friends. Her family had been tied to the Shroud family long before they got cursed, already indebted because of a personal matter between ancestors, where a Furea promised servitude from their family to the Shrouds, in exchange for getting their family saved. The exact details are unsure, but the Furea family wouldn't exist if it weren't for the Shrouds. Then, when hundreds of years ago the Shrouds got cursed, and their servants got a hereditary curse placed upon them as well. As the Shrouds are forced to be near sources of blot, burning them incessantly before it starts eating at their own energy, the Fureas keep producing blot, overblotting if the blot doesn't get dealt with, forcing them to stay one the Isle of Woe as well, where there's the necessary precautions, or near a Shroud when they leave the Isle. If there is too much blot produced, it's a quick overblot without even having to use magic, and they will die

Somewhere a few generations back, the bond was no longer one of exact servitude, as neither families truly remember what that is for, but since they do kind of need each other to balance out the curses, they keep working on the isle as assistants/higher ups at Styx. Melanie's parents were the first to try and get away from that all, devising a plan to escape, with a magical item that they acquired that would take away their blot accumulation. It cost them all their money, and they hadn't gotten far before noticing that it was a scam. They died in their escape attempt, leaving little Melanie behind. She was 10 at the time, old enough to realize what was happening. Melanie now works for Styx, mostly as Idia's personal assistant, staying in contact with him, even when he's at NRC. They basically grew up together, the Shroud parents taking pity on her and taking her in after her parent's death. This was also one year after the Ortho-incident, so they were hoping having someone around of his age would make it easier to overcome his grief and get him out of his shell again. It didn't help much, but she is closer to Idia than anyone else (except of course Otho IA). They regularly game together and he can talk normal to her. If anything, he kind of bosses her around sometimes.

She used to dream of leaving the island, fueled by stories told by her parents, but what happened to them was enough of a shock for her to give up said dream. Now she kind of lives a meaningless existence, following Idia's lead in online escapism, having online alter egos that are living out big adventures in safer online environments.

Since there isn't much to do for her besides work and game, and there are very little people for her to socialize with, she is a bit harder to get along with. She is kind of sarcastic and has pretty high walls built around her, and most people who work at Styx need to avoid her anyway because people with low magic can get affected by the constant blot-production.

She has a little bit of a crush on Idia too, but chooses to ignore that and handles her emotions with more sarcasm and a little distance and kicking his ass at rhythm games. Because of her curse, she is planning on not being selfish like her parents and have her bloodline die out. It's not like the Shrouds 'need' them anymore anyway, as long as they return to Styx regularly they can travel around just fine.

which leaves me with an interesting idea for if she and Idia were to ever have kids, if that would break both familial curses??

Her unique magic is blooming love "get off my case" - a defensive spell which makes white flowers appear. They are harmless unless touched and then they paralyze the person who's touched them, effectively being a barrier between her and people trying to close.

Underneath is some more brainrot and ramble i pulled straight from discord, so if it's a little more chaotic that's why. Hercules is one of my favorite movies and Idia is my favorite together with Leona, which is why I put so much effort in this OC. I just simply had way more to play with for Idia, as chapter 6 has so much more lore than chapter 2. No matter how much I love Leona, his story was so far the worst, and I am still a little salty about that.

discord blurb 1: "3 am Melanie thoughts: since there's some physical representation of the curse as there is with the Shrouds, I'm putting it in her hair as well. It's pitch black, like a manifestation of blot. It looks like a strange mix of fluid/gaseous, but it's neither, with little drips falling down but never hitting the floor. It generally looks wavy/curly, but also changes shape with emotions, though never color. When she's excited, angry or generally experiencing intense emotions, it becomes more curly/wild/voluminous looking. When sad/shy/deflated/anxious it becomes flatter and flatter, even hanging in front of her face (think Violet from the Incredibles). She mostly wears it in a ponytail though, to keep it out of her face since she hates it as a reminder to why she's practically chained to the Isle."

discord blurb 2: "Oh and considering Idia's feelings around her, she's always been better at hiding feelings so where Idia was a shutin and became increasingly anxious around people, she's mostly been harboring anger which makes her mostly a little intimidating and generally hard to approach. So i am standing with my Idia being both attracted to her but also intimidated by her on a personal level, but professionally and for gaming opportunities they get along just fine. He has a habit of still kind of ordering her around without thinking about it even when she's off the clock, and she will 100% just chuck the things he needs at his head whenever she's off the clock, which serves as a great reminder."

IF you read through all of this, Berry, I am sending you all the internet points and cookies. Thank you SO MUCH for letting me ramble and elaborate on my OCs. I have so much feelings about them and I love talking about them, but I also always feel a little embarassed cause I don't want to push them in people's faces. And well.. now you have seen some of my drawings too I guess. Sending you loads of love!

[xxsabitoxx]

Cuddling with the Hashira

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ characters: Giyu, Shinobu, Rengoku, Tengen, Sanemi, Mitsuri, Gyomei & Obanai

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ set in modern day cause I said so

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings suggestive content but nothing crazy

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: I’m half awake while writing this so please ignore any spelling errors because you know damn well I’m not proofreading this when I can barely keep my eyes open lmao

Tomioka Giyu

He doesn’t typically like cuddling. He’s the type to crawl into bed with you for a nap whenever you request it, but cuddling isn’t on the table till he’s sleepy. He’s getting into bed 90% of the time in a hoodie and sweatpants or actual pajama pants. Barely any room for skin to show while he’s asleep. When it comes to cuddling though, it’s typically not until he’s about to fall asleep that he lets you get close. Once you’re both asleep, you’ll have your face snuggly pressed to his chest with your arms wrapped around his slender waist. Your arms are usually wrapped under his hoodie, making it so there is at least a little bit of skin to skin contact. By the time you both wake up again, his hands are usually tangled around you with a leg thrown over you, keeping you in place against him. He’s super embarrassed when he wakes up, apologizing softly if he suffocated you.

Kocho Shinobu

Another one that isn’t really about cuddling. She needs to be in the mood for it, most of the time she likes her space. Her love language definitely isn’t touch, hence why she isn’t one to initiate these things and struggles to accept when you want to. You’re very mindful of her boundaries and never push her for physical contact unless she wants to. You’ll know she’s had a bad day when she requests you lay in bed or on the couch together and snuggle. You’ll always happily oblige when that happens. With that being said, Shinobu is always the little spoon, which is also her favorite way to cuddle when she wants to. She’ll happily fall asleep with her back pressed to your front, your arms snug around her midsection with your cheek pressed to the back of her head. She feels completely and utterly safe in your arms, since she doesn’t request this kind of thing super often it makes it all the more intimate

Rengoku Kyojuro

Cuddle monster in the cheesiest way possible. This man will never turn down your touch, he is the one to often crave and ask for it as well. The only problem being… Kyojuro is a human furnace. That man is radiating body heat regardless of the weather. While cuddling in the winter is absolutely a dream, cuddling in the summer is your worst nightmare. I’m talking you have the air conditioning set to max cool so the house is a freezer by the time you go to bed, cause if not you’ll be a puddle of sweat by the time morning rolls around. Kyojuro bear hugs, I’m talking suffocating with his arms and legs wrapped so tightly around you you can’t move even an inch. He tried his absolute hardest to give you space but one way or another you are waking up the next morning surrounded completely by Kyojuro. Like drool covering his t-shirt cause he held you so tight it was like a weighted blanket. Hear me out though, you wake up feeling rested as fuck.

Uzui Tengen

Horny bastard. You can’t cuddle with this man, 10/10 times it will end up with you getting fucked. He claims he can’t help it, your body pressed to his is just too much to bear. Tengen’s hands will always roam, not leaving any room for much else besides his growing… anyways. It doesn’t help that when he “cuddles” he’s usually in nothing but boxers or… nothing at all. He sleeps naked or with the least amount of clothes possible, a habit that you adapt to since you know his routine by now. After the fact though, Tengen’s aftercare is back to cuddling. Though I can’t promise lazy / sleepy sex won’t follow after the fact. This isn’t to say he doesn’t respect your boundaries though, if you don’t wanna cuddle or fuck he will happily give you space and let you be when it comes time for bed. But if you want one and not the other he’ll always oblige. His horny behavior doesn’t cloud his morals or respect for your boundaries

Kanroji Mitsuri

She’s a cuddle bug, again, in the cheesiest way. She has the softest, frilliest bedroom you’ve ever seen, decked out with all things fuzzy and warm and cute little fairy lights to set the mood. She’s all about cuddling, she loves being the big spoon, little spoon, the one on top, the one on the bottom, whatever you want she’ll do. Mitsuri uses cuddling as a form of bonding and as a stress reliever. That’s not to say she’s completely innocent though. Mitsuri can get pretty hot & bothered by wandering hands and physically being so close to you. she’s all about slow and lazy sex when cuddling, mostly because she’s getting just as tired as she is horny. Most of the time it’s just feeling each other up, letting the tension build before falling asleep in the other’s arms. Mitsuri definitely always has her room air conditioning on the highest setting but lowest temperature, all those fuzzy blankets and pillows really can get suffocating… never mind how close she is to you.

Iguro Obanai

He’s surprisingly open to cuddling when it comes to you. He’s more practical though, like big spoon / little spoon or your head is on his chest and his arms are wrapped around you. He’s not one to have his legs and arms bear hugging you and suffocating you in your sleep. He loves the closeness but he’s not about the full on tangling. Cuddles = sleep therefore he’s not one to get super turned on by them. Like I said, he’s practical. Your bodies are close but not that close if you get what I mean. Though a problem may arise here and there if you’re the little spoon… if you get what I mean. Obanai is the type to dress for bed depending on the state of his room. If it’s hot out, he’ll have the air conditioning on but he’ll still be wearing his boxers and a t-shirt to bed. If it’s cold he’s in a hoodie and sweats and scarily enough… sometimes socks. He’s not one to sleep in just his briefs or naked unless he’s exhausted after your… physical activities

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Very hot and cold tbh. Sanemi is all about having his space in bed where he can sprawl out and still not even come close to touching you. But other times he’s all about having you pressed snuggly against him, arms and legs tangled together while you sleep peacefully. His mood depends on yours, if you want cuddles he’s hard pressed to deny you of them — what a softie. But if you want space, he never takes it to heart cause he gets it. Sanemi is always sleeping in just a pair of briefs, doesn’t matter the weather outside or the temperature in your room, briefs are the only way he’s sleeping. There are nights where cuddling gets him in the mood, it’s usually the only time he’s soft / lazy in bed. Hiking your thigh up so he can take care of the both of you. It almost feels like he’s rocking you to sleep. Sanemi won’t admit it but he likes being the small spoon sometimes, he’s super embarrassed if he wakes up that way though

Himejima Gyomei

Cuddling? No. Laying on top of him and using him as a bed instead of your actual mattress? Yes. Gyomei adores when you lay on top of him, he loves feeling you fully, from head to toe. He’ll run his fingers through your hair and hum softly because he knows your ear is pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Gyomei has a massive bed as well, since you love laying on top of him, he usually lays in the middle. Even if you fall off him during the night, you’ll land snuggly against either of his sides, a muscular arm hooking around your waist. He sleeps in shorts and a t-shirt, no clothes or just boxers are a very very rare occasion for him. Though he’s never opposed to feeling you skin to skin. Either way he’s all about you and your physical touch, it’s his biggest form of love. Being able to memorize everything about your body is easiest when he has you on top of him

[soleilnomoon]

Halo!! ⭐️

Could I please request Ussop and Law with an s/o who needs a looot of sleep due to being in pain all the time because of their devil fruit? With both sfw and nsfw pretty please? 🥺😭

Please feel free to ignore the request ⭐️

Have a nice day~~ ⭐️

૮₍˶ •ᴗ• ⑅₎ა hi! i love writing for usopp and law 🥰️ ty for requesting! (also chronic pain is the worst, wish i could sleep it off all the time lmao)

1.2k words, gn reader (no pronouns), nfsw, 18+, mdni; a tiny bit of angst (nothing major), fluff if you squint and click your heels 3x, smut but nothing crazy (maybe); usopp is terrible at comforting, and law is a menace but puts his medical expertise to good use (sort of).

sfw |

not one to tolerate pain one bit, he will definitely do his best to ensure that you’re comfortable whenever he can. being a pirate isn’t easy — and being a member of luffy’s crew automatically places a large target on your back; it leaves little room for rest most days, and you typically sleep longer than the others do.

he’ll bring you snacks and, depending on the weather, something cold or hot to drink with them. usopp isn’t great at comforting others when they’re not feeling well, but he tries his best. he’ll go to chopper frequently to make sure you’re actually alright, getting you pain medication, bringing warm compresses to place on the various parts of your body at ache the most. he takes special care to observe your behavior, to jot down the moments during the day when you seem the most fatigued, and will even go so far as to encourage you to not use your devil fruit power if you can help it.

it can be a bit… stifling, but you know he means well; he’s a big softy, after all, and he has no intention of losing you. at night he insists on sleeping beside you and you concede mostly because you know he’ll just keep asking, but also because you like the warmth his body brings; plus, it’s nice to be near him without interruption. he gets on his other crew mates to treat you gently, despite your protests, and will even fight luffy for being too damn loud when you’re trying to sleep. you’ve told him frequently that when you sleep, you sleep like the dead, but he still wants to make sure you’re well taken care of no matter what.

nsfw |

on nights where your pain isn’t too bad, he insists on giving you a massage — having learned from franky and robin that the best way to combat pain is to find some middle ground — and even though you’re sure it won’t really work, he seems determined to prove you wrong.

he starts on your shoulders, hands unsure but gentle, and you encourage him to knead at your skin harder — so he does. plenty of people underestimate usopp’s physical strength, but he brings it out when absolutely necessary and it seems like this is one of those times. he instructs you to take off your clothes, and you shiver under the cool night air, goosebumps traveling along your skin; he does his best to keep his hands from straying, enjoying the smoothness of your skin, but you’re feeling a little bold now.

surprised at your sudden burst of energy, usopp offers no resistance when you lean close and kiss him, placing a hand on the back of his neck as your lips slant against his. you slip your tongue in his mouth with ease, while your free hand slides in between you and playfully rubs against his growing bulge. he should feel bad for being aroused when you were just in pain a little while ago, but you’re not one to be deterred by things like that. usopp lets you have your way, liking how easy things are when you’re the one in control, gasping into your mouth when you finally pull out his cock and stroke him slowly, pre-cum spilling from his slit down onto your hand.

you tell him, in between hurried kisses, how much you appreciate him and how much you enjoy the attention he gives you; and as his hips thrust against your hand, you kiss him again, sloppy and eager, wanting to carefully cherish his body the way he cherishes yours.

sfw |

as a doctor, he’s well-versed in managing chronic pain, however yours is a little bit more complicated. if it was simply due to an underlying condition, he could treat you properly. but it’s not. your devil fruit is handy but absurd; he doubts it’s worth using your power if you’re going to be out of commission for hours afterward.

he gets you in the habit of napping frequently throughout the day, rather than you sleeping for hours on end — everyone more or less adapts to your schedule under law’s orders; it wouldn’t do for his patient to be under duress even when things are quiet. you like to remind him that you’re not just his patient, and he likes to remind you that as long as you’re in pain, then you always will be.

but he understands what you mean, takes time out of his day to let you lay your head on his lap and sleep. he wonders just how you’re able to stay asleep while his brain consistently keeps him awake every night; he wishes he could sleep the way you do, reserve energy, and come out feeling more refreshed. whenever you’re asleep like that, he has everyone else talk quietly, tiptoe around the ship, and threatens them daily for not following directions.

you remind him one day, breath coming out in shallow puffs as you try to swallow back the pain and tell him he’s being silly and unjustly harsh. in return, law tells you that doctors are rarely wrong when it comes to helping patients manage their pain. in the end, you agree to disagree, and he strokes your hair gently as you drift off to sleep. before you allow it to take complete control, you grab onto his hand and kiss his palm. he freezes at the contact, cheeks flushing lightly before he clears his throat and tells you to go back to sleep.

nsfw |

there’s another way, you remember him saying, and you didn’t think he was serious, until he has you bent over the large desk in his office, ass jiggling as he pounds his cock into you mercilessly. you grab onto whatever you can to steady yourself, legs trembling with each powerful thrust.

doctor’s orders, he says, breathing ragged as he bites the side of your neck; you moan loudly, clench around his cock in ecstasy, pain ultimately forgotten. your chest rubs against the desk, nipples hard from the friction against the lacquered, wood table. you never imagined that law would use sex to help you with your pain, but he did say he wanted to try various things to see what worked.

and, yes, it’s working very well — too well, even.

he presses his hand on your back, lifts his hips, angling so he can slam into you hard and fast. he knows he should be a little gentler, but given your high pain tolerance, he’s sure you won’t mind — and in all honesty, you don’t. you like that he’s not treating you as if you’re some delicate, breakable thing; you also like that he can’t control himself, can’t control the ferocity behind his thrusts, and can’t control the way his mind is buzzing from how tight you are.

it’s not something that law would do for just anyone, so warmth settles in your chest, cradling your heart as you remind yourself of that. he makes sure to watch your body to check for any signs of discomfort, wanting to see if you can take what he gives you. but when you moan his name again and start to push your hips back against him to fuck yourself on his thick cock, he has all the answers he needs.

[the-madrigals-bitch]

Once again, I was left absolutely stunned by the response to this one! I honestly never think you guys are gonna like these ones, so it always means that much more to me to see how much you guys enjoy reading! ♡ Thank you so very much and Betrothed to Another part two will be up next, I promise! I love the idea that the triplets are absolute party animals in their younger years lmao. The Madrigal trio would certainly be the life of any party so I hope you enjoy drunk triplets haha. Now, without further ado let get into this absolute trainwreck of a story lol!

--

Just Sex pt. 2

Pt. 1

Pepa Madrigal x fem reader

Words: 2.6k

Prompt: The celebration of Alma's birthday party, everyone involved in this love square under one roof. How horribly could things go?

--

You knew you looked good before you even stepped back to observe yourself in the mirror. You tried a little harder tonight than usual; you always went that extra mile when the Madrigal's were throwing a party. There was a certain redhead that you were trying to impress, and you knew you wouldn't be the only one. Felix Castillo was the other young man who you knew would be vying for the weather wielding woman's attention, he was an amazing and funny man who was sweet to everyone he came across, but you couldn't help but feel a sort of competitive contempt towards him. You knew how well they complimented each other, and you did your best to ignore it, just like you tried to ignore their obviously budding relationship.

The way she smiled at him made your insides twist and every time she threw her head back to let out a roaring laugh at something he said, jealousy bubbled within you. You physically shook your head, hoping that the thoughts of the pair bouncing around your mind would escape out the holes in your ears as you leaned closer to the mirror to examine your face. You pushed your eyelashes back gently with the tips of your fingers, attempting to curl them further and making your orbs impossibly larger. Your full rouged lips were absolutely tantalizing, so tantalizing in fact that you fought the urge to press a kiss to the mirror, it wasn't your fault that you cleaned up nicely. The dress you pulled from the deepest depths of your closet was one you didn't wear often, so you knew it'd have the effect you wanted when you walked into the party.

It revealed more skin than your everyday outfit, the neckline was more open, exposing the smooth skin of your shoulders and defined collar bones. It was a beautifully long dress that flowed just past your ankles, the straps hung off your shoulders and swiping the excess lipstick off your bottom lip, you smirked contentedly. If she were able to keep her eyes and hands off of you tonight, you'd march right up to Alma and tell her that you'd been screwing her daughter, that was a death sentence indeed. Your silky hair fell just past your shoulders in waves, two roses stuck above your ear, it was a contrast to your usual updo. After giving yourself one last glance, you stepped out into town.

The atmosphere of the party had already seeped into the streets, people were laughing and dancing in the roads leading up to the Casa Madrigal. You were acutely aware of the way people gawked at you as you passed, but you kept your eyes forward and chin high, pretending not to notice their stares despite how subconscious it made you feel. Everyone in the room collectively sucked in and held a deep breath as Casita opened its doors and you stepped through the threshold; you couldn't stop the wide, bashful smile that spread across your features as you approached the birthday woman.

"Feliz cumpleaños Alma," you said, wrapping your arms around the mother after handing her a small box containing your gift.

"Gracias mija," the older woman smiled, hand coming up to cup your cheek as she admired your features. "You look beautiful tonight mi niña hermosa, please go enjoy the celebration, Pepa should be outside with her siblings."

A soft blush spread across your cheeks at her compliment, and you nodded, stepping out of the house and back out outside into the cool air. The siblings were right where she said they were, taking shots and dancing together at the center of it all, they always were the life of the party. You strolled over, sending friendly smiles at those who caught your eye, and when you finally came withing eyesight of the triplets they all froze at the sight of you. Once more that grin creeped across your face, this time in satisfaction as the air became humid and sticky, a direct result of the Pepa's reaction to seeing you like this. Julieta and Bruno ran over without hesitation, holding shot glasses filled with alcohol that was spilled all over the concrete by the time they'd gotten to you.

"Y/N!" the eldest sibling exclaimed, stepping back to look you up and down after embracing you. "You're so hot dios mio, if I didn't have Agustin, I would totally be all over you!"" she teased, giggling and leaning into you for support as she was very obviously tipsy.

"I would totally be okay with that senorita perfecta, consider me first in line if it doesn't work out between you two," you joked, laughing at her bubbliness.

You didn't often get to see her like this, relaxed and without a care in the world, it was a nice contrast to how stressed and overwhelmed she normally was. Bruno came next, falling into you before Julieta could stumble away, you would've fallen back if not for the table behind you, supporting the weight of yourself and the two siblings.

"Hola Senorita Y/N! I got you a sho-" he examined the empty shot glass. "Who drank my shot?!" he cried, eyeing everyone around him in suspicion before pulling away to drag you and his sister back to their table by your wrists.

The pair quickly got to work in preparing you another drink, the youngest poked his tongue out as he concentrated on filling the small glass without letting it spill over. You bumped Pepa with your hip gently as you waited for your shot, effectively pulling her out of her own mind as she stared at you wide eyed.

"Buenas tardes Pepita," you spoke in the sultriest tone you could muster. "Cat got your tongue?"

"B-Buenas tardes," she stammered, letting out a nervous cough as she pulled herself together. "You look...wow. I don't think I've ever seen that dress before."

"You haven't, it-"

"Shot time!" Bruno cried happily, shoving a shot into your hand and raising his own in the air.

You and his two sisters followed suit, downing the liquid that burned all the way down and filled your stomach with a bubbly warmth. You were just about to make another snarky comment before his voice rang in your ears,

"Pepa!" Felix greeted happily, shaking and holding the redhead's hand for just a little longer than you were okay with. "Hola, Y/N how are you chica?!"

You greeted him politely, despite your mood dampening at his presence, you felt her take a small step away from you and closer to him. Bruno and Julieta welcomed him just as enthusiastically as they had you and of course his arrival was cause for another drink; another glass in your hand before you even knew it. You had just raised it to your lips when a much more welcomed voice called your name, prompting you to turn around as everyone else guzzled their shot. Marco waved at you from the crowd, closing the distance between you swiftly and eliciting another excited greeting from everyone stood at the table, with the exception of Pepa of course. The future seeing sibling had given up on pouring the liquid carefully, now tipping the bottle over haphazardly and allowing the liquid to overfill the glasses and spill onto the table. You now held two shots in your hand, the youngest and oldest of the triplets teasing you to keep up before raising their glasses again.

"Yeah senorita, keep up," Marco repeated, bumping your shoulder and causing the alcohol to spill onto your hand.

You sent him a playful glare, looking past him for only a second as Pepa let out a boisterous laugh at something Felix had said as they waited for Bruno to finish passing out drinks. Your face dropped momentarily, he had hardly arrived and was already stealing all of her attention, your features hardened as you redirected your focus back to the man in front of you. At the Madrigal man's call you ran your tongue along your hand to collect the drink spilled on your skin before throwing your head back and allowing the liquid from both shots to coat your tongue. Your face scrunched up and you quickly snatched a nearby lime, sinking your teeth into it to quell the taste that tingled on your tongue. You hadn't realized the effect your action had on him until you turned to Marco, narrowing your eyes in a challenging glare and catching him slack jawed for just a moment. It wasn't long before he regained his confidence and mirrored your expression. It was Pepa's turn to momentarily ignore Felix as you squealed his name in excitement, the two of you lunging forward in hopes of seizing the bottle before the other. His hand was pressed against your forehead, holding you back as he plucked the bottle up off the table, raising it above your head in triumph before you slapped your hand (it was gentler than what it sounded) against his stomach and took it once he'd doubled over. Felix, realizing that the redhead had mentally checked out of their conversation turned to see what had caught her attention, smiling at the sight of you and the young man.

"They make a cute couple, right Pepi?" he commented innocently, earning himself a look of betrayal from the green-eyed woman.

"Absolutely not," she scoffed, voice dripping bitterness as she continued to glare. "He isn't her type anyway."

"Are you sure about that?" he questioned as you chattered with the Garcia man.

A dark cloud rumbled overhead while you spoke without a care in the world, she excused herself from her discussion to put herself between you and your beau.  Whatever you were saying died on your lips as she stood, arms crossed and steaming.

"Hi Pepa," you grinned a dopey, drunken grin at her.

"Hola senora Madrigal," Marco greeted in the same, enthused tone.

The fact that you hadn't even noticed how upset she was only angered her further, surely you knew exactly what you were doing, being all flirty right in front of her. She opened her mouth, positive that she was gonna say something she'd regret later, but silenced herself as Alma's voice boomed, seeming to give Pepa a second chance.

"We need a picture! Everyone! It’s a great night! It’s a perfect night!" hehe, see what I did there?

You stepped forward confidently (although shakily), Pepa always pulled you into these family photos, so you were confident that tonight would be no different. As you were quite literally stumbling to close the distance between you and her, you tripped, prompting Marco to secure his arms around your midsection to steady you. Your own hands clamped down overtop his in shock and he apologized profusely for touching you, smiling in relief when you assured him that he was okay. It was an innocent exchange, but one that sent a white, hot anger coursing through Pepa's veins. She didn't miss the way your hands lingered on top of his, the way the rosy, drunken blush on your face deepened as you looked up at him, and she especially didn't miss the more than friendly smile you shared.

She should've just said whatever nasty thing she was going to before Alma interrupted, it would've done less damage than the choice she allowed her rage to make for her. She walked right passed you, shoulder bumping your own in the process and left you standing with a confused look on face as you watched her. Your perplexed expression quickly morphed into one of pain as she took Felix by the hand and pulled him up to take the photo with her. He was shocked but didn't miss the way your just cheery face dropped into doleful frown, stopping in his tracks he extended a hand to you, but the damage had already been done, her message was loud and clear. Guilt and regret immediately filled Pepa's stomach as she looked at you, who was still standing with that shattered look on your face, she wanted to take it all back, to take you by the hand and just tell you how sorry she was.

It was too late though, and you stormed off, Marco chasing after you as the family shouted their usual catchphrase before the picture was snapped. Julieta stared at Felix, brows furrowed and not understanding why you hadn't joined them and Pepa's eyes followed you as you left her eyesight; needless to say, they had to retake the photo. Large, hot tears of pain and anger spilled from your eyes as you walked through Casita and out the front door. As if your inner feelings were being reflected on your outer appearance, the flowers in your hair drooped, infuriating you further as you pulled the plants roughly from your locks and cringed at the strands of hair you ripped out with them. The flowers crumpled in your tight fists before you threw them onto the concrete, stopping just outside to wipe the tears you were drowning in. The door swung open and just to prove just how much of an idiot you were, your eyes lit up in hope that it was her, it wasn't.

"Y/N-"

"I'm fine," you chuckled dryly, eyes rolling at the mascara that stained your fingers as you wiped at your tears. "Please, don't worry about me, go back inside and enjoy the party."

"How can I nor worry when you're out here crying, I'll go back if you'll be joining me."

"No, sorry Marco, I'm partied out and my head hurts."

"I didn't mean to cause problems between you and Pepa, I'm sorry if I overstepped, I wasn't sure if you two were dati-"

"We aren't," you interrupted, acridly.

"Really?" he asked, dumbfounded. "With the way she was acting towards me I could've sworn that she was into y-"

"Yeah, me too," you sniffled. "She isn't though, so please don't feel bad about anything. I just want to go home and sle-"

"Sleep?" he cut you off this time. "Women like you shouldn't be in bed before 10pm on a Saturday while the rest of us party." he searched his pockets for a handkerchief, mentally cursing himself until Casita held a napkin out for you.

"Thank you, Casita," you laughed quietly, wiping your eyes and face clean off any makeup that may linger on your features. "Thank you too Marco, for coming to check on me."

"No problem senorita," he grinned a boyish one. "Now how about we go back? It would be a drag without you and the one playing right now happens to be a very danceable song," he extended a hand to you. "And you happen to have the greatest dancer in all of Encanto to be your partner, just trying to make your night here," he joked.

You rolled your eyes, failing to hold back the small smile that played on your lips as you stared at his outstretched hand. You knew exactly what accepting it would mean and couldn't help but think about Pepa and how she would feel seeing you dance with him, then it dawned on you. What about Pepa? She didn't care about how you felt when Felix appeared, and you disappeared in her mind. She didn't care when she'd completely mind fucked you, shooting you down and telling you that your relationship was just sex, but then behaving like a jealous child when you caught the eye of someone else.

She didn't even care enough to come check on you tonight, so why should you care so much about how she felt? She made her feelings clear, so why were you still worrying about her? You deserved to be happy for a night and not worrying about someone who wasn't even your girlfriend, it was just sex after all. So, you accepted his offer and reentered the party hand in hand, whispers could be heard all around you, but you bared no response as you made your way towards crowed of dancing townsfolk and right into Pepa.

--

Part two and all I have to say is yikes. I know it seems bad now, but I promise it isn't gonna be this way forever (I may have said this exact same thing in the last one lol). I really didn't want this to be longer than two parts, but it appears as though a part three is in order! The reasoning for Pepa's actions will be revealed soon (if there is a reason).

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it! Let me know what you think, I adore reading your comments and tags lmao, makes me smile.

Have a great day/night! ♡

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I'm Yours, You're Mine | 5

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: Cheating, yandere!felix, sub!felix, mention of blackmail, public sex, pussy eating, guided masturbation?, fingering, hella jealousy, assault mention, jisung inclusion lmao

A/N: link to the gorgeous dress the OC wears made a super lovely anon thank you babe

GIF CREDIT

“What is taking you so long?” You grunt, walking into the kitchen to find the freckled boy pulling a tray out of the oven. At the sound of your voice, he springs up and flashes you a brilliant smile that explains just why he’s nicknamed the sunshine boy. You smile bitterly at the reminder. Oh, how you used to believe that.

“I just finished the brownies for the picnic, noona.” He chirps happily, looking so angelic, like a bad thought never crossed his mind ever.

Felix wants to take you on a romantic picnic date beside the river. He volunteered to do everything, making you both the food and drinks you’ll need so all you’ll have to do is sit there and enjoy the pleasant early summer weather.

Taking a deep breath, you steal yourself, preparing for the transformation you’ve come to expect from him. “Oh, we’re not going on a picnic. I changed my mind. I wanna go to the mall instead.”

You know the commercial, impersonal place would upset the sentimental boy, and that’s why you do it. The sharp fall of his smile makes your heart stop for a second and your body stiffen, preparing for an attack.

“What?” He asks gruffly.

“I need new summer clothes.” You try to appear nonchalantly.

“Can’t you do that any other time?”

“I want to do it today.” You shrug, stopping yourself from flinching as you see his jaw clench. “You promised you’d take care of me. You promised you’d do what I want.” You remind him of the promises he made after attacking you last time. The promises he made to make you give him another chance. You didn’t believe in any of his promises, and you were provoking him on purpose to prove that he can’t himself in check so you’d have a reason to call this whole thing off.

And it seems he’s getting there. “But we agreed on this date. I prepared a lot for this. I made you fucking brownies.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.” You accuse, and he flinches, his body immediately deflating as the anger rushes out of him. “No, I won’t. It’s okay. We can go wherever you want, noona. You just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

You didn’t expect this reaction from him. You thought he’d lash out again. Maybe it really was a mistake like he said, and you should give him another chance. You’re lost in contemplation when his soft, low voice breaks through to you.

“Would you at least try the brownies?” He pleads, his pretty eyes sparkling, making you believe that the universe truly is a cruel, uncaring place if the stars would agree to light up the eyes of someone like him. Still, you can’t resist the constellations reflected in his eyes and onto his cheeks, finding yourself compelled to lean down and press a kiss to his pouty lips.

You suck in a sharp breath at the exploding light that brightens his face at such a small action, like a supernova, blazing your cold heart.

“Okay.” You breathe, and he, giddy with excitement, cuts off a piece for you. You reach out for it but he swings his hand out of the way, wanting to feed it to you himself. You open your mouth and accept the food, biting a piece of it off and chewing it.

Felix watches you with bated breath, as if your opinion would win him a national baking competition. You’re scared by how much you’re enjoying his attention, and it scares you. It’s too easy to get addicted to him.

“How do you like it, noona?”

“It’s sublime.” You smile, the divine taste of the dessert and his angelic features could fool you into thinking you’re in heaven. How can one person give you such radically conflicting feelings? You feel like you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if at the end of fall you’ll be greeted by the refreshing ocean water or the jagged, deadly rocks.

Felix’s smile gets impossibly wider as he giggles. “I knew you’d like it, baby.” He leans in to give you a peck that’s sweeter than the food you just had.

______________________________

You can’t find anything you like. Nothing at all.

Frustrated, you turn to Felix who had been following you obediently like a little puppy through the countless stores.

“I don’t know. Do you see anything good?” You huff, and he seems surprised by your question, not having expected you to actually take his opinion, albeit how last choice it is. You feel bad. He not only didn’t complain like he promised, even though you cancelled the picnic he wanted, but he actually hyped you up and showered you with compliments every time you’d try on something new.

“What do you like your girl to wear?” You tease him, knowing your words will bring a pretty blush to his face.

“I--I like dresses.” He replies sheepishly.

“Yeah? Like what? Show me.”

It’s your turn to follow him around as he bashfully picks out a few dresses for you. You notice they're all so girly and pretty with bows and frills and lace. Seems like he has a type.

“Do you want me to try them on, baby?” You ask when he hands them to you.

“Please.” He breathes, impatient to see them on you and you think it's adorable how excited he is. You don’t wear dresses, and you know you won’t wear these, but you try them on just for him, not expecting how much his reaction will affect you.

"Wow." He sucks in a breath, his widened eyes taking in every inch of you. Smirking, you ask, "You like it that much?"

He nods vigorously, looking at you with adoration and want you’ve never had directed at you before. It takes your breath away, how genuine it looks, compelling you to do everything in your power to earn it.

The dress is made of a pretty pink Chiffon material, with a pink bow circling under the chest and a sweetheart neckline that exposes your collarbones and dips down to show quite a bit of cleavage, serving to emphasize your breasts that Felix can’t take his eyes off of. The contrast between the light and princessy look of the flowy skirt, and the seductive neckline hints at a certain corruption of innocence begging to be undertaken.

But just as you prepare to be engulfed in the sparkly blue-green of the ocean water, you find yourself crumpling over the rocks as Felix pulls out his phone to take a picture of you.

“You and your pictures.” You comment bitterly, happiness gone. “Gonna blackmail me over this too?”

He gasps, and the hand holding his phone immediately drops down, as if he couldn’t believe you’d say that.

“What, did you forget that you forced me into this?” You mock, “I bet you’re loving this. Making me do this. Dressing me up like I’m your doll? I bet your little dick is hard right now.”

He shakes his head, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to deny your words or just defend his actions. Pulling him close by his jeans, you press your thigh between his legs and laugh when it’s met by his hard-on. “See? I know everything that goes on in your sick brain.”

“Just wanna be good for you.” He whimpers, but even as he says that, his eyes fall to your breasts and his hand reaches out to run over the neckline of the dress you have on.

“Of course you do.” You snarl, and he cowers under your harsh tone. But like a kid at a candy store, he can’t stop his hand from straying, his fingers trailing down to circle around your nipples pushing through the soft material of the dress.

Grabbing his wrist, you bring his hand to your mouth and take his middle finger into your mouth, sucking on it lightly, grinning as his knees buckling and a small whimper leaves his lips. He tries to push you back into the fitting room but you don’t budge, taking his finger out of your mouth and humming. "I suddenly want something to suck on. Why don't you buy me a popsicle baby? I'm feeling hot."

He gulps harshly, "Yes, noona."

________

Felix buys all the dresses for you and you keep wearing the pink one, wanting to make him suffer more through the trip.

You strut to the ice cream store, feeling unstoppable in your flowy dress with your lovestruck lover in toe, hand on your waist and eyes glaring at everyone, trying to fend off anyone who would try to approach you.

Felix sits you down in a booth at the far end of the store, hiding you from view as he goes to get what you want. You sigh, playing the skirt of your new dress, lost in thought about Felix and how you feel about him. He’s sweet, addictively so, but he’s volatile and that scares you. Would you pick him over Chan? What if he just wants you because Chan has you? Maybe this is some kind of sick competition for him. Or maybe it’s the contrast with Chan that makes you like him at all. Maybe you’re just upset with Chan.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud, cheery voice. “Noona, how are you?”

Coming out your daze, you blink, taking in the new figure. “Oh, hey, Jisung.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks giddily, eyes raking over your body, stopping over your breasts the same way Felix did, and lingers on them too long. You clear your throat, smirking as his eyes snap back up to your face as he flushes.

You’re quite aware of the crush he has on you. So better get rid of him before Felix comes and throws a tantrum. Unless…

This could be your chance to get back at Felix for what he did to you and for forcing you to go on this date. He can threaten to tell Chan on you but what is he gonna do to Jisung? Nothing.

“I’m just hanging with a friend.” You smile broadly, “Why don’t you join us?”

“Wouldn’t your friend mind?” He asks, already moving to sit down. You grin wickedly, “No, he’ll love it."

“Okay.” He sits down opposite you, unsuspecting of the storm about to come over. Right on time, Felix comes back with your popsicle.

“Oh, hey Lixie! This is Jisung. We work together.” You pull him down, ignoring the sour look on his face.

“Hey!” Jisung pipes up with a friendly wave that Felix doesn’t return. Felix pins the other boy down with a glare that makes Jisung shrink back.

“He’s just a little shy.” You reach over the table and place your hand over his to comfort him, a gesture that only makes Felix angrier and he in turn grabs your thigh under the table and squeezes it in warning. Turning to him, you pluck the popsicle out of his hand and take a big lick. “Hmm, this is tasty.”

You take the part of the popsicle into your mouth, giving Felix a wink before you turn to the other boy. “So, how have you been, Sungie?”

“Um… good.” He fidgets as you swirl your tongue around the popsicle in an obviously suggestive way.

“How's your girlfriend?” You ask, knowing full well that they broke up. His eyes follow your tongue for a second before he clears his throat and answers. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh, no!” You pout, lips cherry colored and glistening with melted ice cream. “That must be very hard for you, baby.”

You feel Felix’s hand clench around your thigh, but you don’t spare him a glance as you continue, “How have you been handling that?”

You place the popsicle back in your mouth, sucking on it enticingly as you eye Jisung up and down and wait for him to answer, but the poor boy can barely string his words together. “It’s--I’m...o-okay.”

Pulling the popsicle out of your mouth with a wet slurp, you smile while licking the tip of the treat. “I’m so glad. Hmm, this is so good.” You moan out, and extend the popsicle towards him. “Wanna try it?”

Jisung chokes on his own spit, and you can tell that a handprint will remain on your upper thigh from how hard Felix’s fingers were digging into your skin.

"No that's okay, noona." Jisung fidgets, and you know he’s rubbing his thighs together under the table. You ignore his refusal, pushing the popsicle towards his mouth. "Come on baby, open up for me."

He obediently opens his mouth despite his refusal, but before he can close his lips around the ice cream, you pull it away with a laugh. "Why don't you stick out your tongue for me?"

He sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes snap to Felix. You can only see the other boy from the corner of your eye, but the rage rolling off of him in waves more than explains the terrified look on your coworker's face. No, that wouldn't do.

Leaning over the table, your ass in Felix’s face barely covered by the short dress, you curl a finger under Jisung’s chin and turn his attention towards you. "Don't look at him baby. Keep your eyes on me."

He nods weakly and you smile, moving to sit back down when Felix grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his lap, a small gasp escaping from your lips as you feel his hard-on against your thin underwear.

Your grin grows bigger, and you grind down on Felix’s dick as you tell Jisung, "Now show me your tongue, baby."

The sight of Jisung’s glazed eyes and pretty tongue out like a cute puppy makes you moan a little, something only Felix can hear. You feel his hand move from your hip to your pussy, fingers rubbing over you now soaked panties. With a shuddering breath, you move the popsicle over Jisung’s tongue, delighted by how he doesn’t pull it back into his mouth until you tell him to.

"Such a good boy." You coo, and you feel Felix’s fingers slip under your panties to rub harshly at your bare pussy. Shuddering, you open your legs wider for him. "He's such a good boy, isn't he, Felix? I bet he'd never act out or disobey me."

Felix grabs your clit between his thumb and index finger and pinches lightly, making you jump in his lap and bounce on his cock, the two of you groaning out in pleasure and making poor Jisung whimper as he clutches hard onto the table to keep from touching himself.

Opening your legs wide, you order Felix, "Put your fingers in me. Wanna show you what you're not getting by being a brat."

His hand leaves the tight circles he’s drawing over you clit and dip down to your hole, plunging a finger right in. “Oh, fuck.” You shudder at the delicious intrusion and the thrust of Felix’s dick against your pussy, the both of you clearly wishing that was his dick instead of his finger.

“Feels good, baby?” You whisper back to Felix and he nods sharply, finger pushing in and out of you incessantly as if you’ll tell him to stop at any moment. "Yeah? Tell Jisung how it feels."

Felix growls against your skin, sinking his teeth into your shoulder angrily, not wanting to think about the other guy with you right now. But you don’t back down. "Tell him or I'll have him find out himself."

He stuffs another finger inside you, and obeys, voice grave and hostile. “Noona’s pussy is tight around my fingers. So soft and wet for me. Only me.”

You laugh breathlessly, bucking your hips against Felix’s hand so that your clit can rub against his palm. Poor Jisung’s hands were white from how tightly he was gripping onto the table, and you’re worried he would either break it or hurt himself.

“You getting turned on watching us, baby?” You drawl, getting his attention. “It’s okay. You can touch yourself.”

As if he was waiting for your permission, Jisung instantly sticks his hand between his legs, and humps against it to relieve some of the pressure.

“Good boy.” You murmur, and Felix abuses the spot he bit in your shoulder again, deeping the mark forming there and making his feelings clear about you praising another guy while he’s fingering you. "Did you fantasize about my pussy, baby?"

“Yes.” Both of them answer, and you laugh.

"Hmm, seems like you've got competition, kitty. Maybe I chose the wrong boy to play with."

Felix stops abruptly, pulling his fingers out of you and pushing you onto the seat next to him. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest, thinking that he’s about to make a scene. Instead, he slips under the table and pulls on your hips so your ass is at the edge of the seat. Yanking your panties off, he spreads your legs wide.

"Gonna prove to you that I'm the one for you." He buries his face in your pussy, angrily licking every little inch of it and sucking harshly on your clit.

“Oh, fuck---Felix!” You moan, grabbing onto his hair as he devours your pussy. “Good boy. This is exactly where you belong.”

From the barely open slit of your eyes you see Jisung frustrated and on the verge of crying as he’s not getting as much stimulation as he needs.

"Pull your pretty cock out for me baby.” You drawl, trying to entice him so he’d forget about being in a public place and give in to you. “Don't be scared. Noona wants you to be dirty."

He discards his fears, pulling his dick out and yanking on it fast.

“Good boy. Such a good boy.” You effuse, and under the table, Felix pulls back to slap your pussy in punishment, furious that you’re still giving Jisung attention even though he’s on his knees under the table eating your pussy out.

“Brat.” You hiss, tugging on his hair and pushing his head back between your legs, grinding your pussy against his face.

"Wanna cum, please." Jisung begs, and you tear your eyes away from Felix’s shiny and livid ones to look over at him. He doesn’t look pretty or angelic as Felix looks even under the cramped table and surrounded by the pink Chiffon as he ignores his need to breathe in favor of pleasing you. Instead, Jisung he looks sweaty and fucked dumb, his eyes barely focused and his jaw hanging open.

"Wait for noona." You gruffly answer, squeaking in surprise as you feel Felix’s tongue push inside your pussy, a growly moan ripping out of him as he feels your tight walls around his tongue.

"You are doing such a good job, kitten.” You purr down to your lover, fucking his pretty face.

“No, I can’t, n-noona… please.” He cries, and you glare at him. “I said wait.”

“Can’t….ahh...noona, I’m sorry….fuck, fuck!” He squeaks, body convulsing as little ropes of white stain his shirt.

Seeing the mess he makes, you’re tipped over the edge yourself, cumming on Felix’s tongue and closing your thighs around his head, trapping him there. Obediently, he stays still as your hips buck a few more times against his face before your body relaxes and your legs fall open.

Felix gives your pussy a couple of soothing licks before he pulls your dress down and emerges from under the table, his face glistening with your cum. Yet somehow, he still looks as delicate and beautiful as ever as leans into your hand cupping his cheek.

“Good boy.” You murmur, your other hand reaching out to palm his crotch when a wet spot surprises you. You raise an eyebrow "oh?"

"I'm sorry. I know you didn’t say I could cum. I just wanted this for so long. Wanted to make you feel as good as you make me feel." He sobs, thinking you'll laugh at him. But you find it so incredibly sexy and flattering. You never thought you'd meet a guy who enjoyed pleasing you that much.

"You did good, baby." You beam, patting his cheek. ”Sitting there while I flirt with another boy? Maybe next I just make you watch while I fuck him. How does that sound? I bet it will make your little cock so hard, you little pervert."

He shakes his head violently, getting upset. "No, please don't. It would kill me. I love you so much." He breaks down and starts babbling about how he never wanted it to be this way. How sorry he is, begging you to not do this again.

"Hush, my dumb kitty." You press your finger against his lips to stop him from talking. “It’s okay. How about we go home and get cleaned up then have some coffee and brownies?"

He nods gratefully, and you’re about to get up when you hear someone cough. You look in front of you and remember that you had a guest.

“Oh, Jisung. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” You say, pulling Felix up and ignoring Jisung’s protests, and walking to the door.

However, Jisung isn’t the only one with something to say. As you’re about to leave the shop, an employee intercepts you. You can immediately tell what he’s going to say from the severe look on his face.

“Please, don’t try to come back to our shop or we’ll have to call the police.”

You nod, cheeks burning in humiliation as you run out and drag a smiling Felix behind you to the car.

__________________

When you head off to work a few days later, you wonder what you’re going to say to Jisung. You had set off to work with a promise to Felix that you’re not gonna pursue anything with the brunette, but he weirdly didn’t seem particularly concerned about the matter, despite how upset he was that day.

Yes, you’d been extra nice to him these past few days, acting much more receptive to his affectionate ways and responding in kind, but you still didn’t expect that much change.

Your brain is buzzing with all the possibilities about how Jisung will react and your lover’s one-hundred-eighty flip in attitude as you step into your office, but then you realize that Jisung isn’t there at all. Asking around, you find out that he’s at the hospital. Apparently he’d injured himself while playing with a knife. You roll your eyes. That boy is a danger to himself.

Still, you decide to go check up on him at the hospital.

You expect him to act awkward around you, to blush and stutter and look away. What you don’t expect is the sheer horror on his face upon seeing you.

“Wow, did I scar you that bad?” Is the first thing you say to him once you’re inside his hospital room.

“Why are you here?” He asks shakily, staring behind you as if he’s expecting someone to pop out from there.

You frown, “I realize I may have crossed the line yesterday but I just wanted to make sure you’re alright."

“I’m fine. Now please leave.”

“Thanks, I’m so reassured right now.” You roll your eyes, moving closer to him. ”How did this even happen? How does one stab their own leg?”

But as you reach out to touch his shoulder, he screams. "Don't touch me! You can't touch me!"

"What's going on? You're freaking me out." You jump back, and once again, he looks behind you. "Does he know you're here?"

"Who?"

"Your boyfriend."

"Chan?” You ask, confused. What does Chan have to do with this? “He doesn't even know you."

"No, Felix. The one that was with you yesterday."

"Felix? He's not my---" Your face suddenly falls as a horrible thought crosses your mind. No. It can’t be. "Did he do this to you?"

Jisung pales and shakes his head violently "No. I told you it was an accident. Now please leave."

He seems to be on the verge of breakdown, and maybe you should try to calm him down, but your mind is in an upheaval right now, and all you could think of is running to Felix to prove to yourself that you’re just being crazy. He would never do something like this, would he? It can’t be. It’s simply outrageous. But then again his weird change in behavior, his volatile attitude that always keeps you on edge… No, that’s crazy talk.

Numbly you go out of the room and make your way to your car to head back home. You’ll talk to Felix and he’ll tell you how stupid you’re being, and it’s all gonna be alright.

__________

A/N: this chapter was written so quickly because of all the lovely feedback you guys gave me so yeah feedback feeds me

[patchofsunlight]

Hands | Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Bakugou learned from a young age to keep his hands to himself, even when his entire body longed for touch and his eyes filled with tears at the loss of a comforting habit.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, angst, touch starved bakugou!!, kind of a character study? i think about him a lot, one kiss, cursing, consensual hand holding (PFFFT), mitsuki fucking sucks but what’s new

I hope you like this!! please remember feedback is always appreciated and all that. thank you for reading!! sorry if it sucks LMAO I DID MY BEST AND I KINDA LIKE IT

When he was a child, before he even cared about quirks or rankings or strength, Bakugou Katsuki loved holding hands.

No one knew exactly why, but that was just something he liked. He would hold Izuku’s hand while they talked and ran around the neighborhood, he would take his teacher's hand in his ever so softly whenever he walked over to their desk to ask a question. Katsuki would latch onto his dad with the most loving, tiny grip he could muster, and he would even interlace pinkies with his mom when she was having a good day and didn’t deem his manners “too soft”,  “too weak”, “too foolish”. Those were nice days in the Bakugou household.

Bakugou Katsuki was five years old when he had his heart broken for the first time. It was a few weeks after his quirk manifested and he was just so excited to play hero (with a quirk, this time!) alongside his friends after school that he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing Izuku’s hand exactly like he always did, jumping up and down with energy and happiness, rambling about how he was gonna be the number one hero one day — until Izuku screamed, pulling his hand away with a painful expression. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, confused at his best friend’s antics, and then he saw it: the raw, burned flesh of his palm.

Katsuki had hurt his best friend.

It’s very easy to fix objects, his dad used to tell him while stitching up one of his ripped shirts, you just get a bit of glue or yarn and you put it back together, a smile graced his lips at the feeling of his son taking his hand immediately after he let go of the sewing needle, but people are a lot harder to patch up, Katsu. People can’t be fixed, sometimes.

He wasn’t exactly sure of when he started shoving his hands inside his pockets, when he started opening doors with his feet and touching people with his shoulders to get their attention. It took him a while to understand that that first occasion wasn’t an accident, and that controlling his quirk when he got too excited or just overly happy was too hard and the security he got from all those tender touches he so eagerly searched from everyone in his life wasn’t worth the risk. The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

He told himself it didn’t matter. You’d have to overgrow that over time, anyway, his mom reminded him at some point. Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

It was easy to pretend he didn’t miss it. After a few years, the lack of touch was simply another part of his life he consciously chose to ignore, another longing he conditioned himself not to think about. It wasn’t like many people noted his abrupt change in behavior either — there were other things about him that were much more worthy of attention than that, like his killer quirk and quick brain, like his determination and ambition. Who cared about the fact that little Bakugou Katsuki didn’t want to hold hands anymore? Who cared about the fact that little touchy and clingy Bakugou Katsuki now barely touched others? 

Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

He met her during his second year at UA. Y/N was mostly quiet, but still friendly and hardworking, fighting hard for her place as the number one student in Class 2-B. A project involving the two classes put them as partners, and project meetings soon became sparring sessions that turned into study group that led to study dates and then real dates and, by the beginning of his senior year, Katsuki had gotten himself a girlfriend.

He wasn’t certain if she noticed the way he purposely kept his hands out of reach when they walked side by side, or if she ever saw how he always made sure his palms were pointing away from her skin whenever they hugged or cuddled. He didn’t think anyone would ever pay enough attention to him to the point of perceiving his hesitancy. It didn’t matter that Bakugou had gained complete control of his quirk, it didn’t matter that he still felt his skin and his hands tingling with the urge, the craving for touch — the satisfaction wasn’t worth the risk, not the stupid satisfaction he didn’t even need. Such childish, silly bullshit. Bakugou Katsuki was doing very well with letting go of old customs, no doubt.

But Y/N noticed. God, of course she did — she noticed all the longing gazes, all the small flinches. She noticed how he never let his hands touch hers and at first it made her worried. Didn’t he want to touch her? Had she done something wrong? Her boyfriend wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, even though he had been putting in the effort to talk to her whenever he felt a bit under the weather or bothered. 

However, this seemed like a bigger problem, like something he would never speak of unless she brought it up. It seemed deeper.

“Katsu?”

He lifted his scarlet eyes from the book in his hands and turned them to her sitting figure. They were both on his bed, despite curfew starting in less than an hour and the knowledge they shouldn’t be alone in his dorm. To be honest, Aizawa was quite used to watching the Class B girl sneak out of his student’s room every other night, wearing one of his many hoodies and those shorts that she always left in his closet. As long as they weren’t causing him any trouble, Eraserhead didn’t cause them any trouble, either.

“Yeah?” his voice was clearly tired after a day full of training and studying, a hint of sleepiness dripping from his tone.

“How come you never let me hold your hand?”

Katsuki froze on the spot, feeling his heart pick up its pace until it was beating so loud he could hear it by his ear, throbbing. He gulped harshly, sweat immediately gathering up on his hands from his own anxiety. She had noticed?

“What do you mean?” he tried to laugh calmly, but his chuckle sounded forced and nervous. He put the book away.

“You never let me hold your hand,” Y/N’s cheeks were tinted red with shyness. She had been pondering on how to talk to him about this for days now, yet seeing him so flustered made her surprisingly tense. “You avoid touching me with your hands in general, actually,” her chuckle sounded as forced and nervous as his, “is… Is there something wrong? Would you feel better if I stopped touching you so much? Does it make you uncomfortable? Because I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Katsu. You can talk to me about things like that, you know it.”

He couldn’t get himself to answer, unable to move or truly process her words. He really thought he had been slick, huh? He really thought she’d never notice, he really thought she’d never care. How would she feel if he told her he was afraid to hurt her, that he was afraid he would lose control of his quirk and burn her somehow, like he had done with Izuku all those years ago? Would she think he was childish and silly, too? Such childish, silly bullshit, Bakugou Katsuki scared of holding hands with his girlfriend, scared of touching her and holding her like she deserved to because what if it went wrong? What if he fucked it up? The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

People are a lot harder to patch up, his father told him. He didn’t want to be guilty of screwing this up, didn’t want to destroy the relationship he cherished so, so much. Would she think he was weak for being this reluctant? Would she laugh at his stupid antics and tell him to grow up and stop being such a softie? Would she get mad? Should he even tell her?

“Katsu?” her soft voice relaxed his muscles like it habitually did, and he sighed deeply before meeting her worried eyes. “Talk to me?”

Y/N had always had this amazing talent of making him feel at ease. Ever since they met, so many months ago, she had this blinding quality that urged him to be quieter, calmer, less defensive. She didn’t even have to try tearing down his walls — they simply melted away when she smiled at him for the first time. He had never really talked about this issue with anyone else before, and he didn’t know how to even start, but Y/N made him want to try. Still, the words felt heavy on his tongue.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered so quietly that she leaned in to hear him, furrowing her eyebrows in disagreement.

“Come on, Katsu. Please?”

He inhaled deeply. She stared patiently, waiting for him to organize his own thoughts enough to explain the thousands of things running through his mind. When his eyes met hers again, he felt warm all over. Katsuki loved the way she looked at him — there was no fear, no ulterior interest, no nonsensical admiration. She looked at him and she saw… Katsuki. Just that. And, strangely, that seemed enough.

The boy averted his eyes from hers. “I don’t want to hurt you with my quirk.”

Oh. Oh? That, well, that was definitely unexpected. The crease in Y/N’s eyebrows deepened. 

“Why would you ever hurt me, Katsuki?”

The future hero lifted his head to look at her instantly, confusion swimming in his red gaze as he answered, “I mean by accident, Y/N. I—,” he almost stopped himself right there, yet her expression caused him to continue, “I really liked holding hands when I was younger, you know? With my friends, teachers, family, and all that,” his ears were bright pink with embarrassment that subsided when she smiled softly at the new information, “it made me feel safe or whatever. Then I—then I got my quirk and, sometimes, when I held hands with people it just—,” he exhaled heavily before letting out a sad, defeated laugh, “I have burned a nasty amount of people. I don’t want to do that with you, too. I’d never want to hurt you.”

Katsuki was hardly a vulnerable person. He tried to be, yes, because he wanted this to work and for it to work he had to meet her halfway somehow during certain moments, but it was so, so difficult. It was so difficult for him to open up and talk about one of his biggest insecurities of all time, about one of the things he most craved for. He didn’t want to scare her away.

“Katsuki.” Her tone was serious and she stared at him with such intensity that he lost the ability to breathe for a second. “I understand where you’re coming from, but that’s bullshit.”

Bakugou blinked. “What?”

“You’d never hurt me, okay? I know you wouldn’t. I trust you, Katsu, so much. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about this before,” she bit her lip thoughtfully while he could only stand there, dumbfounded with her reaction. 

Out of all his imagined worst-case scenarios, this was a surprise. 

“Katsu,” the girl called to him again, smiling lovingly in that way that made his world spin in its axis when they first met, “do you trust me too?”

“Of course I do,” there was no hesitation this time. Of course he did.

“Can I touch your hands?”

Once again, he froze on the spot. She looked at him expectantly.

People are a lot harder to patch up. She was trying, though. She was really trying to fix the ripped pieces of himself he tried to bury under anger and seclusion, pretending there was nothing wrong and that this was just how things were supposed to be. 

Bakugou looked down at his own hands, studying them carefully. With a last shaky exhale, he nodded.

She took his hands in hers, letting her fingers interlace with his cautiously so as to not startle him. Her thumb caressed his palm ever so softly and he fought the instinctive flinch that threatened to push her away. After years without it, this type of touch felt too intimate, too close, too new.

He liked it. 

He smiled.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Y/N smiled back, grinning when he took it upon himself to squeeze her hand in appreciation. “You’re fine, Katsuki. I like holding your hand.”

His smile grew wider and he leaned in to kiss her, living for the feeling of her fingers squeezing his while their lips moved slowly. They had kissed a million times before, yet this felt different. If given the chance, Katsuki probably wouldn’t mind being stuck in that moment forever, with her lips on his and his hands on hers — Y/N had melted away all his walls and defenses from the start, and he was incredibly glad. He was incredibly glad for her.

His heart was beating fast inside his chest, especially when she pulled one of his hands up slightly to let it cup her face. A shiver went down his spine as he felt the curve of her jaw under his fingertips, the softness of her skin touching his. When there was not any air left in their lungs, they parted from each other. She turned her face to kiss his palm affectionately and his entire face seemed to burst with love and gratitude.

“I like holding your hand, too.”

She giggled, and, for the first time, Bakugou felt like it’d be alright if he decided not to keep his hands to himself. Such childish, silly bullshit, waiting around when he could’ve been holding hands this whole time.

A/N: so that was it!!! i hope you liked it!!! hehe hello

taglists

all: @kiedhara @wingeddemonclub @thedemigodsarealivebitch @ray-ofmoonlight​

also tagging @tsuhika bc i am: a fan and you gave us permission to tag you in shit SOO KJSFBIUEFB LMAO SORRY

[haikyuuphilia]

Hello!! I just found your blog and I love your works so so much, your fluff is so good and it warms my heart and aaaaa!!!! I don’t really know how to explain but basically me ❤️❣️💕💞💓💗💖💘💝 @ all your Headcanons hskshsjsbs!! I really liked the one where their s/o fall asleep on them, so would it be alright to ask the same but with Osamu, akaashi (And Bokuto too if that’s possible but I totally understand if you don’t do him! Energy adult child, I’m not sure if he’d let you a chance to fall asleep I’m the first place LMAO) please? Sorry if this is very sudden, I hope you don’t mind but feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do it!

I hope you have a great day, please hydrate and take care !! All your favs loves you !!!

you accidentally fall asleep on them

pt.2 of headcanons with osamu, bokuto, & akaashi

find pt.1 with kuroo, tsukishima, and yamaguchi here & suga hcs here! 

established relationship, no warnings apply, gn!reader | fluff ♡

→ miya osamu

you two are waiting to pick up food from a restaurant nearby before heading back to osamu’s place for a stay-in date of dinner and baking cookies

you’d both ordered ahead, but it seems like the restaurant was running a little behind schedule

so your projected 6pm takeout order turned into 6:15, then 6:30 :(

osamu’s a little annoyed because he’s sure you’re hungry for dinner by now and doesn’t want his s/o waiting

but he’s secretly happy you two get to spend a little bit of time together just chilling in public, too

you’re chatting about your day with him, and he’s listening attentively

you yawn every now and then, which he of course notices

he asks if you want to cancel your baking plans for that night

he’s perfectly happy just cuddling you to sleep, after all

you say you’re fine, but he notices you’re rubbing your eyes and blink slowly every now and then

and the food’s still not out yet

he’s talking about the different types of cookies you two could bake at home when he feels your head on his shoulder

“keep talking,” you say sleepily, “i promise i’m listening.”

you don’t see his soft smile, but you feel his lips brush the top of your head as you drift off

osamu was annoyed at the late order of food before, but now he kind of hopes the restaurant never delivers your order if it means he gets your head on his shoulder

has to control his happy expression because he’s literally overjoyed but is trying to play it cool

he’s secretly proud that every now and then the other restaurauntgoers sneak a glance at you two, a subtlely affectionate couple

he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulder and bring you closer to him

when the food finally arrives, he’s reluctant to wake you up

but he’s glad you light up when you see the dinner and his face by yours

osamu definitely wouldn’t mind if you accidentally fall asleep after you two get back home, either <3

→ bokuto koutarou

you two are on a date that consisted of hiking in the mountains and then a picnic by a local waterfall

it’s been going amazingly, as your dates with him always go -- but you’re tired

bokuto, unsurprisingly, is still full of energy

you’re prepared to power through and make the 2.5 mile long trek back down to level ground

but then your shoes break

at first, bokuto decides to go barefoot with you as a fun adventure

that ends real quick when he stubs his toe and you step on a pinecone (ouch)

then he wants to give you his shoes because what kind of boyfriend would make his s/o walk barefoot ?

your feet don’t fit his shoes that well, so you go to plan C:

bokuto will carry you down the mountain

so you hesitantly get up, and he gives you a piggy back ride down the mountain, walking briskly like he’s not carrying an entire person on his back

you can feel his back muscles flexing, and he’ll probably hike you up higher on his back so you don’t fall off

plus his arms are wrapped firmly under your thighs 

it’s quiet except for the sounds of nature, and bokuto’s focused on keeping you upright while getting down the mountain

so you end up falling asleep on accident

he feels your head rest against the back of his neck

bokuto will whisper your name a couple of times because he can’t turn his head to see you

when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep, he’ll get so happy

wants to do a happy dance but doesn’t want to wake you up lmao

he’ll take you the rest of the way down the mountain like that, you sleeping peacefully on his back

he’s never walked so carefully in his life 

you wake up when he sets you down on a bench

you’re probably worried that he overexerted himself because who just ?? carries a person??? 2.5 miles down a mountain?

answer: your boyfriend, that’s who

he assures you that he barely noticed you on his back at all lmao (no matter how much you weigh <3)

bokuto says he could go all day and all night 😳

piggy back rides with bo are 10/10 highly recommend

he’s just a strong, sweet boyfriend <3

→ akaashi keiji

you two were wrapping up your date at the cherry blossom park

but then it started to drizzle, and now the rain was pouring down

instead of booking it back to the bus stop a half mile away, you two decided to wait out the rainstorm in a nearby pavilion

you both sat down on the benches and listened to the sound of rain together, watching the cherry blossom tree branches shake in the wind

as more time passes, you grow sleepy, and your head falls forward as your eyes close

akaashi’s got lightning fast reflexes and moves his arm out to keep your forehead from smacking into the table lmao

he realizes you’ve fallen asleep, so he moves your head from the table to his shoulder

then reconsiders and gently brings your head to his lap, which he figures is more comfortable and probably warmer

takes off his jacket and puts it over you as a makeshift blanket because he doesn’t want you to get sick with the rainy weather

he may look calm on the outside, but on the inside, he’s practically giddy with happiness

akaashi is so happy that you’re comfortable enough to fall asleep with him, your boyfriend

(he’s a tiny bit worried about your fatigue and if you’re sleeping enough, though)

as he gazes down at you resting on his lap, he might brush a few strands of hair out of your face

probably plays with your hair or holds your hand as you sleep

he’s content just with your presence, even if you’re not awake to talk to him excitedly like you normally do

eventually, the rain stops and the sky clears up

but akaashi wouldn’t wake you up -- he figures you need all the rest you can get, and he’s happy to sit there and wait

you get up not too long after, waking up to see his blue green eyes looking lovingly at you

you: akaashi... what? why is it dark outside? how long have we been here?

akaashi: i don’t know,, i lose track of time when i’m with you

ugh i want an akaashi

you might be a little embarrassed, but he assures you that he’s happy to act as your pillow any time, any day

will insist that you two go back and get some rest because you need it!

and even if he gets a cold the next day, he knows it was worth it just for you

loving, caring, selfless, stunning = your boyfriend, akaashi <3

ahh hi there!!! that’s so sweet of you, and i’m really glad you’ve enjoyed the fluff so far! i’m more than happy to write for them, so thank you for the kind words and hope you enjoyed the headcanons (i don’t know what came over me when i wrote them,,, they’re ridiculously long haha oops)

x rue

[corpsedaydream]

hi i love ur work so much and i had a request! corpse and reader are dating and she isn’t necessarily what fans think his type is. she isn’t really goth and doesn’t watch anime so when she sees corpse talking about e girls and goth girls and all that stuff she feels left out and like she isn’t who he wants to be with, and when he’s streaming with her (she’s also a youtuber), he’s like talking about an anime show and reader feels left out and the whole live chat is just saying how she doesn’t belong there and that corpse could do so much better ect. so she has a breakdown in the bathroom and he reads the comments about her and gets upset and defends her which ends with him cuddling the fuck out of her and kissing away her tears idk just angst with a fluffy ending please i’m desperate 😔✌️💗

ooooooooooof i put myself in all the feels writing this and now i’m meant to just go to sleep like i’m not feeling some type of way smh

but!!!!!!!! i like how it turned out hehe, hope u enjoy

word count: 1.5k

_________________________

beach baby

Your freckles were a lot more prominent lately, but that was always something that happened during this time of year when summer was quickly approaching. As much as you felt a little insecure by the the little marks that were dotted all over your body, it came hand in hand with the excitement of being able to do all of your favourite things that just felt better to do in summer.

You were a beach baby through and through. Growing up, you lived in the one house your whole life that was right by the beach and when your family went on holidays, it was always to a holiday house that was by another beach. You could swim before you could walk or talk. When you did learn how to walk, your parents realised they had to keep an extra close eye on you at the beach because you’d always run down to the waves, not realising the danger in your toddler years. When you watched The Little Mermaid for the first time, you begged your mother to turn you into a mermaid so you could live a life under the sea. When you were a kid getting picked up from school, your after school activity was going to the beach. Whenever the school swimming carnival rolled around, it was always you who got nominated to do the races. When you were a dramatic teenager and found out the boy you liked kissed someone else, you went to the beach and wrote his name in the sand just to watch it get washed away by the sea.

Your life had always involved the beach and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Whenever the idea of falling in love with someone popped into your mind, you always thought it would happen with the beach involved in some way. And there had been a few surfer boys you’d had flings with, but none stuck. They never really made an impact on you.

But Corpse had.

The two of you were an unlikely pairing, the absolute definition of opposites attract, but it worked.

You’d met at a mutual friends house by chance and there was an undeniable spark from that very first moment.

-

“Sitting under the moon is a lot better than the sun.” The two of you had found yourselves in a light hearted argument that very first night. After getting introduced and realising there was a pull between you both, he had eventually grabbed your hand and brought you to come sit up on the rooftop with him.

“What? No way, dude.” You shook your head and laughed, he was everything you weren’t but all you wanted. “The moon is so pretty,” You agreed with him, “but the sun makes you warm and it’s so pretty when the sky is all blue with a couple of cute, white fluffy clouds. That’s the perfect weather to be out and about.”

“If you like going out and about.”

“You don’t like going outside?”

“Nah,” Corpse hesitated, contemplating on how honest he should be with the girl he’d just met but was feeling so comfortable around. “I can’t handle the world sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. If someone came up to me and said you can spend your whole life under water as a mermaid but never be able to come back on land, I’d seriously consider.”

“Even after meeting me?” The tone shifted back to the playful flirting and you were grateful for it.

“Shut up and admire your moon.”

“I will, after all, the night sky is far superior.” He was holding firm in his opinion.

“I think it’s all really pretty.” You said honestly, and it was the truth. You were just as hypnotised by a moonlit sky with stars sparkling as you were with a daytime sky.

“I think you’re really pretty.”

He’d had your heart from that moment.

-

You’d actually gone to the beach today and spent a solid few hours there with friends and it had put you in such a blissful state. Making the drive to your boyfriends place so enjoyable, because you were also very excited to see him.

He’d left the door unlocked when you messaged him saying you were on your way. So when you arrived you let yourself in, shutting and locking the front door behind you, knowing Corpse was streaming and you were going to join him.

“Hi.” You whispered, opening the door to his office, not knowing if you should let your presence be known to stream yet. You always felt a little nervous when it came to his fans. The first time you joined him in a stream, all you could concentrate on was the amount of messages that stated how you were exactly wrong for Corpse. How you were the opposite to who he should be with. From there, it only progressed. You saw the hate comments and negative things that some of them had to say about you and it hurt.

“She’s here!” Corpse announced, so at least it was known to them that you would be joining him at some point, they had some warning and you hoped it meant you would receive a warmer welcome. “Hey, baby, get over here.” He opened his arms and you sat down on his lap, greeting him with a kiss before you both brought your attention back to his stream.

“Hi guys!” You greeted the stream, cautiously looking over the influx of messages, waiting for something negative but it seemed they were asking you about something. “I can see you guys asking, but I don’t really know what you’re talking about...” You trailed off before looking at Corpse. “What were you talking about?”

“Oh...” He started, “we were talking about an anime. (Y/N) isn’t really into anime, guys.” He laughed and you smiled but you could feel the anxiety start to build, you just knew this was going to cause a wave of hate to you.

“Hey, I loved Sailor Moon and Pokemon when I was a kid.” You attempted to make a joke, thinking it would gain approval of his fans but it only caused them to react worse.

The chat started moving faster, messages of,

‘LMAO of course she doesn’t know what we’re talking about’

‘Did she really just say Pokemon? She’s fucking basic’

‘What a fucking dumbass’

‘Dump her ass Corpse’

‘Ugh why the fuck did she come?’

‘WE DONT WANT YOU HERE’

‘Fuck off (Y/N)’

‘Corpse you can do so much better’

You could feel the tears welling up, each comment being another jab and you knew you had to leave or you would cry right there and they’d all hear just how they had gotten to you. Quickly, you got up, ignoring Corpse calling after you and trying to reach for you to bring you back to him.

Making your way to the bathroom, you washed your face in an attempt to calm yourself but it didn’t work at all. So instead, you sunk to the floor and let yourself cry. You couldn’t understand why they hated you, you loved him so much for exactly who he was, just as they did. Couldn’t they be happy if who he was with made him happy? Negative thoughts were swirling your mind. They were getting to you.

“(Y/N)?” Corpse cracked the door open, his face full of worry as he stepped inside the bathroom. “Oh, baby, hey, hey,” He was by your side in a moment, his hands finding your sun kissed cheeks as he left a kiss against your head before finding your vision. “I saw what they were saying. They’re wrong.”

“But what if they’re not, Corpse?” You couldn’t help but to argue back. “You deserve someone better for you.”

“Stop it, stop right now.”

“No, I mean, look at us... We’re complete opposites.”

“And so?” He responded. “Do you love me?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“That’s all that matters.” He told you, and you knew he was right, it was just the hate comments were really playing on your mind.

“Is it, though? Don’t you want someone else?”

“No. Fuck no.” He wrapped his arms around you then, he knew you really needed reassurance right now and he was going to give it to you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby. My beach baby, I only want you.” He told you, bringing you onto his lap once more, only now you were on the bathroom floor. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, needing to be close to him.

“Please don’t leave me.” Your voice was barely audible when you’d whispered that but he heard it and it crushed his heart to know it was his audience that had made you feel this way.

“I won’t, ever.” He assured you, he was cradling you with a force now, ever so slightly rocking the two of you back and forth. “You don’t ever have to ask me that, I’m not going anywhere.”

[fruitcoops]

Could we please have a prequel to the praise kink fic? Because i really want to know why were Sirius and Remus not together and what did Remus send him. I really need context

I was hoping somebody would ask for this!! The aforementioned fic is here for any curious souls (18+ please) and SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for spicy texts (not exactly nudes), and smutty feelings with nothing explicit

The bus went over a bump and Sirius winced as his shins knocked against the back of the seat in front of him, connecting with the metal brace inside. “Fuck.”

“You sure you don’t want to switch?” James asked next to him. Sirius glanced down at the veritable wall of gear and empty snack bags between them, then back to James in disbelief. He shrugged, then set his headphones back over his ears. “Worth a shot.”

“Merde,” Sirius hissed as a pothole nearly took off his kneecap. He gritted his teeth and readjusted, drawing his legs closer to his chest. I want to be home, he thought, allowing himself an internal moment to whine.

He checked his phone—not even ten in the morning. It was a Saturday, so Remus would probably just be rolling out of bed, still sleepy and soft with his hair sticking up like a disgruntled cat’s. Sirius sighed heavily and stared out the window at the small town rolling past in the distance; there was little he wouldn’t give to be back with him instead of on the way to a full week of conferences.

“Why did we have to win the Cup?” he grumbled.

James lifted one side of his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing.”

It wasn’t like they had had much time to themselves before that, either—Sirius’ schedule was packed with interviews that felt more like interrogations, and Remus had been running the PT department mostly by himself while Moody took a well-deserved vacation. They were dead on their feet every night, worked to the bone with little energy left to do more than cuddle and fall asleep. Still, Sirius was grateful for every second of it.

He waited ten more minutes before giving in.

New Message To: Re

Bonjour mon loup <3

There was no immediate response, which made sense, though he was a little bit disappointed. Sirius closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax; it would be at least another six hours before they arrived at their destination, and the bad weather gathering overhead didn’t bode well for quick travel.

His phone buzzed gently and he scrambled to answer. Don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg, don’t be Reg—

New Message From: Re

Morning love!

Thanks for the bagels <3

“Fuck yes,” Sirius said under his breath. The bagels had been a last-minute decision as he crept through the house in the early hours of the morning after carefully detaching himself from Remus with a final half-asleep farewell kiss. There was no guarantee he would remember breakfast with everything going on, so Sirius figured it was a safe bet to toast them and leave them on the countertop before heading out.

Message To: Re

Pas de problem

Sleep well?

Message From: Re

Decent

Missed you :(

Sirius rested his temple against the cold window with a soft sound. He hated leaving at different times, but that was just how their life worked at the moment.

Message To: Re

Missed you too <3

Three small dots appeared for a long moment before vanishing without a trace just as his heart rate began picking up. Where’d you go? he almost wondered aloud. Something bumped his arm and James raised a quizzical brow. “Loops,” Sirius said by way of explanation.

“I figured. He okay?”

“I think so? He just…disappeared on me.” Sirius was well-aware of how plaintive he sounded—James’ teasing smile was completely unnecessary.

“Aw, Cap,” he laughed, reaching over to mess with his beanie until Sirius slapped his hand away. “It’s alright, buddy, it’s just a couple days.”

Sirius jammed his hat back on his head and flicked James on the unprotected bit of his ear, making him yelp. “Fuck off, I know you’ll be a mess as soon as Lily FaceTimes with my godson.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Sorry. You’ll be a mess as soon as she FaceTimes with Pocket Pots, who happens to be my godson.”

James rolled his eyes. “I regret giving you that title.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

As if on cue, his phone lit up again; Sirius ignored James’ snickering as he quickly unlocked it.

New Message From: Re

When will you be at the hotel?

“That’s it?” he muttered.

Message To: Re

That was a lot of typing for one sentence

6-7 hrs, if the weather holds

Why?

Message From: Re

Sorry lmao Reg came in for a bit

Just curious :) Keep me updated?

Message To: Re

Will do <3

Tell Reg he needs to wash his sheets. It’s been over a month.

A small thumbs-up emoji was his only answer, and he tried not to be too bummed. Remus liked having things to do; sitting there and texting Sirius while he slowly got further and further away was probably not his preferred way to spend a morning. With a sigh that was likely a bit too dramatic for the situation he was in, Sirius faced the window once more and buckled in for a long ride.

He chatted off and on with the others when they stopped for lunch, but everyone was exhausted from the combination of a packed week and an early morning. Even Talker stayed fairly quiet, and James kept his headphones on for most of the trip.

Sirius finally succumbed to his tiredness and put some music on, then dozed for an hour or three while they traveled through yet another field. A few halfhearted calls of “cows” made their way around the bus, though nobody seemed particularly enthused about being packed in with double the gear due to a broken storage compartment. Donuts and gas station coffee could only do so much.

“Just crossed the state border,” Arthur called from the front of the bus as Sirius tried to ignore the cramping in his thighs. Three hours. Just three more.

His music was interrupted by a soft jingle alert and he pulled his phone out, hoping against hope that Regulus hadn’t caused a fire anywhere. It was unlikely given the…well, everything about him, but with Sirius’ luck it could happen.

New Message From: Re

How far?

Message To: Re

About 3 hrs. Ran into some detours

Good day?

Remus remained silent on the other end and Sirius frowned. That was rather rude, and highly unusual. Between the two of them, Remus was the one who kept conversations going past the initial question to be answered.

Message From: Re

Attachment: 1 Image

Love you! Call me when you get there : )

Sirius opened the attachment and almost threw his phone in utter shock. Skin. Bare skin everywhere, its smooth edges broken up only by tight black fabric that may as well have been painted onto the curve of Remus’ ass. “Oh my god,” he whimpered, voice barely audible even to his own ears. It had been taken in their bedroom mirror; Remus looked over his shoulder, and Sirius caught the corner of a devious smirk on his lips. “Oh, you fucker.”

Message From: Re

Thoughts? They’re cozy

Message To: Re

Did you miss the part where I said three (3) hours

Message From: Re

Nope

Second one is a guessing game and u get a prize if u get it right : )

The second photograph was more zoomed-in than the first and Sirius wracked his brain, running through his mental catalogue of Remus’ body to figure out the answer. It did absolutely nothing to calm the situation in his pants.

He had no idea what the promised prize was, but anticipation made his hands shake slightly as he carefully scanned the picture. The shadows caught it at an odd angle—it wasn’t the steady slopes of his face or neck, nor was it the strong curve of a shoulder. Not enough freckles, either, he thought.

A lightbulb lit in the back of his mind.

Message To: Re

Right hip

Another thought connected half a second later.

Holy fuck you took them off

Is that my prize?

Re?

Remus Lupin I swear to god

TEXT ME BACK

Message From: Re

Bingo!

Christ you’re impatient, I was gone for like 2 mins

He chanced a look toward Pots, whose head lolled to the side as he snored.

Message To: Re

Hey quick question why are you like this

It’s a good thing Pots is out cold bc this bus is too small to hide anything

Message From: Re

Haha sux to be you

Sirius’ cheeks heated with a whole cocktail of different emotions as he furiously typed a response.

Message To: Re

‘Sux to be you’???

Are you 13 yrs old????

Message From: Re

Do you want your prize or not u horndog

Message To: Re

YOU MADE ME THIS WAY

He took a deep breath through his nose and flexed his fingers.

Yes please

A simple smiley face—Sirius would never see those things the same—popped up, followed by an audio file. He triple-checked that his headphones were plugged in before tapping ‘play’ with an unsteady thumb.

His face went very, very hot before all the blood went straight to his groin and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. Breathy sounds came through the heavy earphones, a little more crackly than they would be in-person; he heard Remus’ gasp catch in his throat and crossed his legs as best he could in the too-small seat, torn between thanking and cursing any higher power. He could practically see Remus’ face in his mind’s eye as the noises continued, intermixed with fragments of desperate words.

The file came to an end after what felt like the blink of an eye and a hundred years, and Sirius did not look away from the violently red seat cushion in front of him for a long moment as his brain came back online. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so turned on.

He took a few deep breaths, though it did nothing to erase the poorly-muffled whines that still rang between his ears like church bells. Sirius huffed and turned to grab his waterbottle out of his duffel, only to make direct eye contact with Finn across the aisle.

Sirius froze.

Finn grinned.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed, too low to wake James but just loud enough to carry over the four feet separating them. Finn’s smile widened. “Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“How’s Loops?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“That good, huh?”

“O’Hara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, is Cap spilling secrets?” Kasey asked, poking his head over the back of the seat.

Finn opened his mouth, but the force of Sirius’ glare must have been enough to at least intimidate him a little, because he shook his head. The smug Cheshire grin remained. “Nah, just having a chat about our plans when we get home.”

Kasey groaned. “You’re a lucky man, O’Hara. Both your people get to come with you. Nat sent me a promise, like, twenty minutes ago and I can’t stop thinking about it. I won’t be available tonight from six to eight if anyone was wondering.”

“Did she really?” Finn looked back to Sirius, who bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his cool. Two and a half hours, and then he would be safe. Just two and a half more hours.

[nugnthopkns]

if everything could ever feel this real forever

word count: 4.3k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, alcohol consumption, allusion to sexual content (nothing explicit but minors please be aware!)

recommended listening: everlong | foo fighters

a/n: broke down and wrote for ratty matty. alternalty titled four times matthew thinks you’re the one and one time he knows (4+1′s are fun to write, pls don’t fight me). also pls ignore the fact i don’t know how airports work, i’ve only ever flown domestically lmao

Matthew feels different when you’re around. 

You don’t turn him into a completely different person. He’s still himself – an absolute pest at times – but more genuine. With you he can feel everything deeply, say whatever’s on his mind without the fear of being judged. It’s the best kind of different, and he wouldn’t change it for the world. His teammates constantly ask him when he’s going to lock you down; put a ring on your finger and change your last name, but he needs to be sure before he makes such a big commitment. 

one

It’s the beginning of July, and you’re sweating buckets in the back of an Uber. The driver has the air cranked, but nothing seems to alleviate the heat. You know it will be worse in St. Louis so you do your best not to complain, but it’s hard. Taking two weeks off to visit your boyfriend in his hometown sounded like a great idea, but reading the weather forecast has you re-evaluating the trip. 

Your phone lights up in your lap, and you eagerly unlock it. It’s a text from Matthew. Have a safe flight. Text me when you land. Tayrn will be there to pick you up – Brady and I’s on-ice got extended. I’ll see you when I get home. Love you. 

Though you wish he could be the first person you see when you touch down, you understand that his job comes first. Besides, your re-unification will be more private this way. I get to see the best Tkachuk first, fuck yeah you reply, before following it up with Love you too Matty. See you soon. 

Soon after sending the text you arrive at the entrance of Calgary International Airport. With a polite thank you to your driver, you grab your suitcase and head inside. The working air conditioning answers your silent prayers and you feel your body slowly return to a normal temperature. Check in is fast, and before you know it you’re breezing through security. A slightly nervous traveller, you’re at the gate earlier than you need to be. The plane doesn’t take off for another two hours. You don’t mind the wait, listening to a couple of podcast episodes and grabbing a snack at the lounge before boarding. 

The five hour flight passes in the blink of an eye. St. Louis is busier than Calgary, and it takes you longer than you thought it would to get through customs. Once passed immigration and at the baggage carousel you let Matthew know you’re safely inside the city limits. You grab your obnoxious suitcase – a bright red thing with a giant Flames logo that Matthew thought would be funny to give you – and set out to find Tayrn. She’s easy to spot, waving a giant poster with your name on it. Abandoning nearly all airport etiquette, you rush through the crowd to see her. Over the years she’s become a little sister and close friend, and you really wish you could see her more frequently. 

“Y/N!” Taryn squeals as you wrap your arms around her. The pair of you embrace for another moment or two before making your way to her car. Neither of you can stop talking, so excited to be in each other’s presence.

“It’s so nice to be back,” you sigh. “I really do like St. Louis.” 

Tayrn giggles. “You’re just excited to see Matthew.” 

Though she isn’t wrong, you swat her bicep in faux annoyance. “What? Can a girl not enjoy a nice Midwestern city?” You push your sunglasses up onto the bridge of your nose before continuing. “Besides, I only came here to see you. I see enough of Matt at home.”

She rolls her eyes but extends her arm so you can fist bump her. With a quick look to make sure the way is clear, Taryn exits the parking spot and heads in the direction of your temporary home. The open sunroof allows the wind to whip through your hair and you struggle to tame it enough to put it in a ponytail. One Direction blasts from the stereo, and you join Taryn in screaming the lyrics until your lungs hurt. Being on vacation, even if it’s only to St. Louis, is so freeing. You don’t have to deal with work deadlines or friendship drama. All that matters is spending time with Matthew. 

When you pull into the Tkachuk’s driveway it’s empty. It’s Thursday afternoon; Chantal’s at work, Keith is golfing with friends, and the boys are at the rink. You take a few minutes to unpack, filling Matthew’s drawers with your clothes, before joining Taryn by the pool. St. Louis is just as hot as the city you left, and the travel has left you feeling below average. A quick swim is sure to be the perfect remedy. 

The water is the right kind of cool, and alleviates any stress you were possibly feeling. You’re properly in vacation mode now, lounging on pool floaties and gossiping with Taryn. An hour later when Matthew returns home you’re in basically the same position. Stepping out into the yard he sees you urging Taryn to turn around so you can place sunscreen onto the one spot she missed, laughing all the while at some ridiculous celebrity rumor she’s telling you. Seeing you get along so easy with his sister, and the rest of his family, makes his heart swell.

In the couple of months you’ve been separated, Matthew’s thought a lot about his future. Specifically about his future with you. When he closes his eyes he can see it clearly: the two of you married with children and a dog, living in a house in the mountains and loving life. It’s idyllic, and even though he knows you’d say yes if he asked you, Matthew still can’t bring himself to do it. There’s something in the back of his brain telling him to wait until he knows with absolute certainty that you’re it for him.

Not wanting to be separated from you for a minute more, he snaps out of his daze and scurries over. Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and pressing a kiss to the base of neck, he relishes in how you mould to him immediately, not even questioning who it was. 

“Welcome back baby,” Matthew mumbles into your skin. 

With a chuckle you wriggle slightly in his grasp, allowing yourself to face him. You press a kiss to his lips and it feels like heaven. Absence does make the heart grow fonder, you suppose, because you could stand here kissing Matthew your the rest of your life and be happy. 

“Hi Matty,” you giggle against his lips, parting from him only to rest your forehead on his and twist a curl around your finger.

From somewhere inside the house you hear Brady yell,  “Jesus Christ, you two, get a room.”

Without taking his eyes off you, Matthew replies, “Fuck off Brady!”

two

The energy inside the Saddledome is electric. It’s the Flames’ first home game in nearly a week, doing an east coast road trip and sweeping every team they faced. Six games later the team is on a nine game winning streaking and are hoping to keep it going. You know how much it matters in this moment – the playoffs are fast approaching and all points they can tally up are needed. 

You had decided months ago to buy rinkside tickets for this game, planning to surprise Matthew. He loves when you sit in the regular crowd, cheering and spilling your beer like any old fan. It’s humbling for the both of you, and honestly you enjoy it. Though you love those in the Better Halves box, you were a hockey fan before dating Matthew and sometimes like to enjoy games by yourself. Plus, your friend was supposed to be in town and join you at the game, and you figured she’d like to experience how insane the area is firsthand.

So you do your best to quickly shimmy around those blocking your seat, beverage in hand. It was all you could do to get to the rink on time, sitting in the dense downtown traffic for nearly three quarters of an hour after rushing out of work. You wanted to make it before warmups started to make sure Matt knows you’re there supporting him. No one really bats an eye at you, which you’re thankful for. In no way are you notorious, but it wouldn’t take a die-hard fan long to recognize you. Sitting down and letting a soft sigh escape your lips, you carefully place your jacket over the seat beside you. At the last minute your friend had to cancel her trip to Calgary, leaving you solo. With a quick look at the clock you see that warm up will start in just under a minute. The players begin to step onto the ice as you sip your beer. Matthew is yet to notice you but you don’t take offence. He’s in the zone and most likely won’t realize you’re sitting right in front of him until halfway through the third period.

“Look daddy, it’s Matthew Tkachuk!” you hear a young boy shriek in excitement. “He’s so fast, I want to play just like him.”

You turn to look and see two rows above you there’s a father and son, who looks around eight. He’s wearing a jersey identical to yours, and from the sounds of his excited chattering it’s his first game. Seeing the young boy so happy to be here, to see your boyfriend, has your heart swelling. You want to make this a game he’ll never forget.

“Hi,” you smile at the father. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I know Matthew quite well. Would you like me to get his attention so your son could meet him?”

A shocked expression makes its way onto the dad’s face, but he doesn’t react negatively. “You’d do that?” he asks. “Riley loves Matthew. Wants to be just like him.” When you nod, he lets you approach the boy. 

“Hey there Riley, I’m Y/N,” you say, smiling and extending a hand to him. “I’m a special friend of Matthew’s. Would you like to meet him?”

The boy looks at his father tentatively, and only once he nods encouragingly does Riley respond to your question. “Yes please.”

“Why don’t you come down here with me and we’ll get his attention?”

With a little help from you, Riley climbs over the seats and plops unceremoniously beside you. You help him straighten out his jersey before beginning a conversation. He tells you he plays in a local youth league and wants to make it to the NHL one day. When prompted, you explain to him that you work a boring office job that you love even though it makes you angry sometimes. It’s all very formal, but after cracking a few jokes you get him to loosen up.

Matthew, still not having noticed you, begins to skate along the boards in your direction. “Watch this,” you whisper-yell to your newfound friend, “I bet he’ll jump super high.”

As soon as Matthew passes your spot you bang on the glass and scream his name. Sure enough, his skates lift a good three inches of the ice and he shrieks. Teammates around him laugh and the look on his face is priceless when he discovers you’re the culprit. 

“Babe!” 

You smile. “Matty, this is my new friend Riley. He wears number nineteen just like you!” A glance at the boy lets you know he’s starstruck, and your eyes lock with Matthew’s. 

He leans down and rests his hands on his knees, at eye level with the child. “Hi Riley,” he begins. “I’m Matt. I like your jersey.” 

After that, Riley’s a tap that won’t turn off. He details every bit of his day to Matt, and even though their voices are muffled a bit from the glass they get on like two peas in a pod. Matthew is great with children and doesn’t shy away from having legitimate conversations with them. He talks to them like they’re people, which is something you admire about him. The warmup time runs out, but before he heads back to the dressing room Matthew hoists his stick over the glass, giving it to Riley. The younger boy beams and waves goodbye. You blow Matthew a kiss, which he gladly returns, and turn your attention away from him as his figure retreats. 

“Is he your boyfriend?”The question makes you laugh.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, to which Riley just shrugs. 

“He called you ‘babe’, and my mommy calls my dad that. That means you’re in love,” he says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. 

Matthew cannot pay attention in the locker room for the life of him. He’s trying really hard to listen to everyone’s hype speeches, but his mind keeps wandering back to the interaction you shared during warm up. You looked so happy watching him interact with the boy you found god knows where within the arena. It’s then he realizes he wants to watch you act like that for the rest of his life. He wants to see you bring excited children to meet him because you have the power to make their nights. His suspicion is confirmed when he steps onto the ice and looks in your direction, finding you and Riley pressed up against the glass cheering loudly.

three

The Giordano’s are hosting an end-of-season barbeque before everyone scatters into the wind, and you’re going to be late. No matter how much you reminded Matthew of what time you had to leave he still started getting ready as you were finishing up. This typically wouldn’t be a big deal, but he has recently started taking care of his curls, and the routine eats up a lot more time than he anticipates. 

“Matty, are you almost ready? There’s going to be no parking!”

His footsteps echo off the hardwood floor as he comes towards you. “That’s what you’re worrying about, baby? Parking?” Matthew laughs, pulling you into his side and kissing the crown of your head. 

“Yeah Matt, I am. You know I have parking anxiety.”

“I’ll drive then,” he says sweetly. “Besides, it’s been a while since I���ve driven us. Have some fun tonight.”

The short drive across town is full of laughter. Neither of you are great singers, but it doesn’t stop you from belting out lyrics at the top of your lungs. At some point Matthew breaks out a rather terrible impression of Axl Rose and you just have to post it to your instagram story. Captioning with a simple microphone emoji, you slip your phone back into your sweater pocket. Though most certainly warm enough to spend the entire evening outside, Calgary currently has a bit of a proclivity for wind, and you’d rather be prepared. Outside of Mark and Lauren’s house Matthew finds a spot and parallel parks with ease.

“Shut up,” you mumble, poking your tongue out at him. 

Matthew ruffles your hair in retaliation before jumping out of the vehicle, booking it around to the other side so he can open your door. He isn’t slick about hiding his intentions, grabbing a handful off your ass before leaning down to kiss you. Though you’d much rather stand in the cul-de-sac and make out with your boyfriend, you both have appearances to keep up. You get him to stop being a pest kong enough that you can enter the party and pass him off to his teammates. 

You congregate with some of the other girls in the corner of the yard, and enjoy a drink while the sun sets. It’s fun to gossip with them, to catch up one final time before most of them leave. You’ll be staying in Calgary, job tying you down for the foreseeable future. The only thing that’s better than spending time with your friends is glancing at Matthew from across the space. 

He’s enjoying himself, glass of water in hand. When he offered to be the designated driver he was serious, and he took the shit the boys were giving him in stride. Though you’ve only had one gin and tonic and can’t feel the effects of the alcohol, you’re glad he’s staying true to his word. The heightened water intake makes his skin glow, and you’re having a hard time staying focussed on the story Lauren is telling. He catches you staring and shoots you a dazzling smile. Tired of keeping your distance, you excuse yourself from the conversation and saunter over to your boyfriend. 

“Hey Y/N,” Noah says breezily, raising his glass to you in mock salute. You wrap your arms tightly around Matthew’s waist.

“Hanifin,” you smile. “I’m really sorry to do this, but I need to pull Matt away for a quick second.”

No one in the group is the least bit surprised. The two of you have a reputation for being young and in love, sneaking off often and doing everything that entails. Once the two of you are alone you rest a hand on his chest, dangerously close to the button of his shirt. You then move kissing along the underside of his jaw, pressing your body closer to his to ensure he gets the point. 

“Needy baby?” Matthew tries to smirk, but his voice wavers when you reach the junction of his jawbone and earlobe. 

Declining to speak, you continue your actions until he’s just as desperate to get home as you. Though you try to be sneaky as you exit through the back gate, you won’t be surprised if you wake up to a few crude text messages. You’re too far gone to care, solely focussed on showing your boyfriend how much you love him. 

The entire ride home Matthew can barely focus on the road. Not because you’re doing anything particularly risqué, a few too many close calls have put you both off of initiating things in the car, but because he doesn’t ever want to stop sneaking away from events with you. It’s exhilarating in more ways than one, and he hopes the feeling never goes away. Being with you, his best friend, is something he wouldn’t trade for the entire world. So what if he gets chirped by the boys for having precariously placed marks on his back.

four

September brings a chill to Calgary, but you couldn’t feel warmer. Matthew is due home this afternoon after nearly four months of being away. Of course you visited him in St. Louis, and he even flew back to the city once, but the two of you were mostly separated. Your shared apartment felt cold and lonely without him to annoy you, so you had spent as much time away from it as possible. No longer do you have to fall asleep with Matt’s side of the bed stone cold. 

Though you know he likely won’t care, you’re nervous about the new decor. In an effort to make yourself feel better in Matthew’s absence, you completed some home renovations. Most are superficial, like a new sectional and an ungraded home speaker system, but you had redone the entire kitchen after scrolling through pinterest. The cabinets are a bright yellow, and the walls are a warm cream. Subway tile has also replaced the previous backsplash. You’re quite proud of the way it looks – doing pretty much all of it yourself and only calling your dad when you really needed help. 

You spend much of the morning not doing anything productive, pacing the hallway back and forth. It’s nerve wracking and exciting to have Matthew home. Things will go much smoother with his presence even if he can sometimes be the most annoying person on the planet. You force yourself to eat a small meal before continuing to wear holes into your floor. He’ll arrive in a matter of minutes, and you’re practically vibrating with how much your legs are shaking. 

A key twists in the lock, as though it’s a Pavlovian response, you bound towards the front door. Not even letting him step over the threshold you wrap yourself around him as tightly as possible. Matthew giggles sweetly, and you swear it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. Tears flow freely down your cheeks and soak through his shirt. In a very ungraceful waddle Matthew carries the both of you inside your home and shuts the door lightly. 

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Matt asks, obviously concerned because this is more emotional than any homecoming you’ve ever had. 

Through hiccupping sobs, you stutter out, “I painted the kitchen cabinets yellow and you’re going to hate them. And then you’ll want to break up with me but I won’t be able to take them with me.”

“Woah woah woah, slow down baby,” he soothes, rubbing circles on your back. “Why am I going to hate it?”

When you can’t come up with a justifiable answer, he knows your anxiety just got the better of you. Repositioning you slightly so you’re tucked into his side, Matthew walks through the apartment to see the kitchen for himself. He’s blown away by its beauty, and he can see just how much work you put into it. The room is so much brighter and inviting – he can’t imagine having any other kitchen now. 

Once you ramble off an apology for being so dramatic that he won’t accept, the two of you settle into the couch and start a reality television marathon. It’s a tradition that both of you take very seriously, and though he’d never admit it to anyone but you, Matthew looks forward to watching the outlandish dramas. The night is quiet, with you getting through quite a few seasons of Desperate Housewives, and at some point you fall asleep on Matthew’s chest. He knows he should gently move you off of him, start to unpack his bags, but he can’t tear himself away.

He can’t help but stare as you snore softly. There’s nothing Matthew would like more than to spend the rest of his life relaxing after coming home to you. If he’s being completely honest, St. Louis doesn’t feel like home as much anymore, and he finds himself counting down the days until he can return to Calgary. Matt supposes you’re the defining factor, and even Antarctica would feel like home to him if you were there. He never wants to lose that feeling. 

+ one 

There’s ten seconds left on the clock. Ten seconds until the Calgary Flames will become Stanley Cup champions. You’re holding your breath – you know a lot could happen in such a short amount of time. The lead isn’t as wide as you’d like it to be, only one, and you squeeze Taryn’s hand tightly. Everyone in the friends and family box is just as amped up as you. If the choice had been yours, you’d be sitting in the stands of the Saddledome, but in event the Flames win you need to be with everyone else if you want to join the team on the ice. 

Matthew carries the puck up the ice, and you audibly gasp. At the last second, a Bruins defenseman is blocking his view of the net. Not letting the scoring opportunity go for his team, he snaps a pass backwards to Elias Lindholm. A nano-second later the puck is in the back of the net. You possibly scream the loudest of anyone in the box, jumping into Brady’s arms excitedly. 

“Holy shit, they’re going to do it,” you whisper, and Brady nods enthusiastically. The clock now only has two seconds, and there is virtually no way the Bruins can make a comeback. 

You untangle yourself from your boyfriend’s brother and approach his parents. “How exciting is this!” Chantal gushes. 

“So fucking exciting,” you say honestly. “Listen, I want to talk to you about something.”

The Bruins’ head coach is halfway through his timeout, so you have to talk fast. You explain that you want to hang back while the family celebrates with their son and brother. Keith and Chantal try to argue, but you insist. You want them to be the first people to greet him as a Stanley Cup champion. 

A horn signals the return to play, and you return your attention to the ice pad below you. Everything seems to move in slow motion; all you remember is the final whistle being blown and getting crushed in a group hug by everyone else in the room. Your voice goes hoarse from screaming, and tears stream freely down your face. 

The party continues for a short time in the box, but then you’re being led through the arena and out onto the ice. Nodding in the direction of Matthew, you urge the Tkachuks to greet him. You congratulate other members of the team, snapping candid pictures of everyone to share in the group chat later. So many families will treasure the photos that you can’t bring yourself to stop, trying your hardest to grab everyone. 

Once enough time has passed for Matthew to properly be congratulated by his family, you make your way towards him. Wasting no time, he skates over and lifts you off your feet. Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, and if you weren’t so proud you’d have reservations about sticking your tongue down Matthew’s throat in a packed arena. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper against his lips. “My champion.”

Matthew blushes profusely at your words, and you can tell he likes them. “Couldn’t have done it without you supporting me,” he responds, leaning into your touch as you rake your fingers through his hair. 

While you celebrate with the rest of the team, holding babies and snapping pictures, Matthew realizes he can’t live without you. No one else will fit into his life as perfectly as you. There’s no one he wants besides you. Matthew makes a mental note to go through your jewelry box in the morning to get your ring size. His mom always said he’d know when someone was ‘the one’, and now he understands what she meant.  

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

[alirhi]

10 Sebastian roles as boyfriends

Because... I'm bored and I feel like it. 😂 Probably some spoilers for, like... everything? So yeah... That.

Putting it under here for easy scrolling:

10: Chase Collins

Who doesn't love a goofball? In the first half of the movie, Chase is basically perfect. He's sweet, funny, not all caught up in his ego, and actually pays attention to what the girls around him are saying, not just to what he wants to hear. If not for the whole... it was all an act to get close to Caleb and try to steal his magic thing, Chase would actually be a damn good high school boyfriend. He's adorable and would be a fun date, but he's also only 18 so best not to start making long-term plans lol. Also, y'know... the whole psycho revenge/power grab thing.

9 Jack Benjamin

Y'all. Y'all. Words cannot describe how much I love Jack. Pretty sure I've made this clear. As a person/character in general, he's absolutely in my Top 3 - not just of Sebastian's characters, but any character ever. ❤ But as a boyfriend? Boy's got baggage. It's what makes me so protective of him, but seeing as how he's trapped in the closet thanks to his overbearing homophobic family and the insane expectations heaped on him, as the show left him, he can't handle an honest relationship. He's too easily influenced by all the wrong people, poor babe.

8 Chris (Destroyer)

On paper, undercover cop sounds cool and exciting, but even if you ignore the fact that he, y'know, dies... Chris got in too deep and kinda lost the mission, so to speak. Best case scenario, you're his sexy partner and in on it all with him and end up on the lam for the rest of your lives. Worst case, this man lies for a living, so can you even trust him? And... yeah. The whole dead thing. Chris is hot af but getting involved with him is a recipe for disaster.

7 Ben

Min and Hathor have mercy, I love Ben! He's smart, he's snarky, he's caring and loyal... he's an absolute disaster. He's another one who seems allergic to honesty, until his lying and avoiding nearly kill his girlfriend. Not exactly relationship goals lol. Everything before totally was, though! Ben's adorable, and I love how he stayed up all night to protect his girlfriend (from a ghost/demon thing... with a baseball bat. I said he was smart, not perfect, okay? XD points for effort lol)

6 Mickey Henry

I. LOVE. MICKEY. Oml I love Mickey. He's a spazz and - even more so than Ben - an absolute disaster of a human being, but I love him. Pros for dating Mickey Henry: he's fun, he's carefree, he'll cook for you even though he's kinda bad at it lol, he loves his son and wants to be a good dad, he wants his partner to be happy and to love life as much as he does. Cons, and the reason he's not higher on the list: He's a pushover; easily influenced by the toxic people in his life, and it gets him into a lot of trouble. Being easily influenced by toxic dumpster fire of a human being Chloe almost lost him the partial custody of his son that he barely even had. He's an absolute sweetheart, but he's a complete man-child, and dating him would often feel more like raising him.

5 Frank "Suffer Buddy"

Come on! You know he and Mickey had to be back-to-back - they're practically the same character! 😂 Frank is Mickey... slightly more grown up. He's still a disaster, but he's respectful of boundaries, he's caring, he's funny in a dry, witty way that I just adore, and hoo lordy that man is a giver! 🥴🥵 Honestly, if he didn't smoke and didn't ditch Daphne in the middle of a party hours away from everything familiar to her surrounded by strangers to go do drugs, I'd call Frank perfect. He listened, he respected her wishes, he tried to keep some distance between them when he found out she'd gone on a date with his best friend (it failed utterly and brought us to the "damn that man's good with his mouth" portion of the movie lmao but still)... I don't have a whole lot of experience with men who actually give a shit, okay? So Frank is like a goddamn unicorn to me lmao. But that drug thing... That keeps him at the bottom of the Top 5 for me. Sorry, bb

4 Bucky

I can already hear everyone on here raging at me for placing Bucky so low on this list, but hear me out: I love this man. I love all four iterations of this man. Flirty 40s Bucky was a doll (fun date, not commitment material). Post-POW camp 40s Bucky had a fire to him that set me on fire. The Winter Soldier can choke me any damn day. Unf. And TFATWS Bucky... Oh, lady above, 2023 Bucky is a gem! He's sweet, snarky, and broken. He feels utterly, wretchedly alone in the world, and everyone around him, including his only friend, is telling him to "man up" and "make amends" for shit that was never his fault to begin with, rather than helping him come to terms with all that he's suffered and all that he's survived. Bucky needs and deserves love. A relationship with him would be so solid, if he found the right person... But it would take a fuck ton of work. He needs someone strong, patient, and more stubborn than he is to prod him until he finds a better therapist and actually opens up, and to keep him on track because even good therapy comes with homework. He does have to "do the work," Sam was right about that much, but he was way off base with what that "work" is. Bucky needs help and understanding, and he would be an amazing boyfriend... if he found someone with the strength to help him weather his nightmares and flashbacks, and help pull him out of this PTSD pit he's been in since 1943.

3 Chris Beck

Big brains turn me on, okay? 😂This man is an astronaut and a surgeon! Yes, please! Come here, you sexy genius! He's smart, he's funny - pretty sure Sebastian is incapable of playing anyone who's not delightfully snarky lol. He's pragmatic when he needs to be but there's also nothing he wouldn't do or risk for the ones he loves. This man is husband material and I cannot be convinced otherwise! So why isn't he #1? Cuz of the whole... spending years in space, thing. Super cool job and I'd be his biggest fan on the ground, but god damn, I would miss him while he's away!

2 TJ Hammond

Look, I'm gender fluid and he's a little bit bi 😂😂😂 Let me have my fantasy, okay? TJ's definitely got a lot of shit to work through, but love brings out the best in him. Before that fucking closeted shitbag broke his heart and stomped on it for good measure, TJ was clean and sober for months, he was happy, he was playing piano again, he was pulling himself together. Not only would he be an amazing boyfriend, but his partner would get the extra joy of getting to watch their love and devotion to him be the thing that saves this beautiful man's life. It's not healthy overall to tie your self worth and will to live to a relationship, but if he found the right person who would be there for him through all of life's shit and stick it out, I think he'd be okay. Even after his lowest point and without the support of his family, TJ still had a dream and he still chased it. He's not just the sweetest person to ever grace our screens, but he's ambitious and business-savvy, too. Keep him off drugs and watch this man take over the world, I'm telling you!

So why is TJ only #2? Well, besides the fact that he's like 99% gay and I have no bits he'd be interested in lmao, there's also the fact that this guy owns my heart:

1 Will Franklyn

And not just because we get to see him wet and mostly naked lol. Will is fucking perfect. I would die for this man... because he's already shown that he would die for his love. He almost fucking did, and they weren't even together yet! He's smart and very aware, he's a writer so we'd get to bond/geek out over books together, he's not all full of himself (self-deprecating humor ftw!) and he's willing to help a total stranger despite actual mortal peril, just because it's the right thing to do. Fierce, intelligent, sassy, strong-willed, and a flawless moral compass? YESYESYESYESYES! Forget boyfriend - let me MARRY this man! 😍🥰

[in-superbloom]

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

[snarky-badger]

Snapshots 5/5

The final part of the Grievous stuff that I wrote some years ago. I hope you’ve all enjoyed my descent into madness. Lmao.

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Kyra looked up from the datapad she was studying as a loud crash echoed through the Citadel, brow furrowing as she rose out of the chair she was sitting in. Her right hand scooped up the blaster that was on a nearby table before she strode out of the quarters she shared with Grievous and into the maze-like hallways of the cyborg's lair.

That the droids that guarded the Citadel weren't on high alert was a good sign - it meant that there wasn't an intruder. Which, unfortunately, meant that the source of the sounds was something all too common.

Worried for a completely different reason now, she sprinted to the control room, the heart of the Citadel's massive security system, as well as where the high-tech medical centre was situated. She passed a beheaded commando droid, and then a dazed medical droid, ignoring the warning warbles from two Magna droids as she skidded to a stop in front of the control room's door and started to put in the code that would allow her entry.

But the door whooshed open before she got halfway through the code, and she had half a second to blink in surprise before two arms wrapped around her and yanked her beyond the security door and into a powerful embrace.

Kyra automatically slid her own arms around Grievous' form as he buried his masked face in her hair. A massive shudder went through him, his arms tightening around her possessively when she tried to lean back to look at him. She gave in without protest, nuzzling her face against his armored chest as she gingerly extended her Force senses, frowning when she felt the turmoil and anger that was roiling in him.

Instinct had her soothing that anger with her own calm and love, projecting it into his thoughts, not invasive, but just there, at the edge of his mind. He had to accept her presence, and he did, another shudder going through him when she sent a calming wave of energy through him.

"Need you," he rasped into her hair, voice raw. "I need you close. Please, taisilee."

She placed a kiss over his hidden heart. "You don't have to ask, love," she murmured, feeling another tremble wrack him as he nuzzled her shoulder, fairly crouching over her.

He rose to his full height, scooping her off her feet, and spun to stalk deeper into the heavily secured control room. He passed the computer system that controlled the security of the Citadel, then paused in the doorway to the medical wing, hesitating at the sight of the large bay that had already taken the brunt of his anger. A snarl left him as he whirled away from the destruction, stomping back to the computer room and tensing when he remembered that there was a camera built into the monitor.

With the way his day was going, Dooku would remotely activate the damned thing just as he was settling down with Kyra in his arms.

A low, threatening, growl rumbled out of him at the thought, eyes narrowing, pupils shrinking into dangerous slits. Grievous couldn't let Dooku know of Kyra's existence. The Sith Lord was a very real threat to Kyra's life, and he'd be damned if he let that threat turn into reality.

Kyra gasped as another enraged snarl left him, meeting his gaze and shivering at the anger there. "Grievous." Worried, she rose her hands to his face, shifting in his hold so she could place a kiss over his vocalizer. "Grievous, look at me." When that brilliant gaze jerked to her, barely controlled anger making his eyes glitter dangerously, she lightly brushed her fingers over his mask, just below his expressive eyes. "Let's go outside, love. No walls, no cameras. Just us."

He blinked at her, and for a moment, Kyra was worried that he was too far gone into his anger to understand her. But a second later, he was hurrying out of the control room, arms splitting into four, two lightsabers igniting in time to slice the security door in half.

She blinked over his shoulder at the startled Magna droids and offered them an apologetic look before Grievous swung around a corner, loping through the corridors like a predator on the hunt. Lightsabers were deactivated and replaced into the pouches in his cloak before he returned his hands to her, cradling her in his four arms as he darted through the Citadel's maze-like interior.

He was moving so quickly that she lost track of where they were, distracted by how his hands were lightly clenching and unclenching around her, his breathing a low series of wheezing growls and snarls. Even a brief series of coughs didn't slow him down, if anything, he pushed himself harder, cape billowing out behind him.

They reached a series of winding stairs that Kyra had never seen before, and she felt Grievous' grip on her tighten as he raced up them, taking them four steps at a time. Worried, she extended a bit of her Force senses, frowning when the massive ball of his anger and rage threatened to buckle her mental shields. He had told her that there were times where his anger would overrule his strict control, leaving him nothing but a creature of uncontrolled rage. But she had never expected it to be this severe. He was barely coherant, clinging to her presence - his last lifeline. What little control he had left was dangling by a thread, and he knew it.

The door they came up on buckled under a vicious kick, and Grievous carried her past it and out onto the mesa that topped the Citadel. It was the highest peak for miles, the planet's landscape stretching out below them, mists adding an eerie yet beautiful tinge to the scenery.

But Kyra ignored it, turning her attention onto Grievous as he tried to set her on her feet, a snarl leaving him when she shook her head and curled her own arms around him, fingers finding purchase on bits of his armor.

When he realized that she wasn't letting go, he hissed and instead tightened his hold on her to the point that it was almost painful before he started pacing. Taloned feet tore up the rock as he paced the length of the mesa top, back and fourth, over and over again, as if he was a caged animal that was breaking under severe mental pressure.

Her concern tripled, and she frowned as she reached up again, gently tilting his face down to hers and meeting his turmoiled gaze. His eyes were wild, the whites visible around his irises, his pupils slitted so thinly that they were almost nonexistent amongst the gold. His gaze darted from her to the mesa top and back again as he continued his pacing, hunched over a little, legs working tirelessly.

"Grievous, talk to me." She splayed one hand over his armored chest, the other rising to lightly stroke the right sensor on the side of his head, taking comfort in the fact that while he snarled at her, he did ever so slightly lean his head into her touch. Slowly, radiating calmness and trust, she sent a very tiny pulse of warmth through him, feeling his arms tighten around her as a low growl rumbled out of him, his frantic steps slowing just a little.

As a last ditch effort to reach him, she dropped all but her inner mental shields and gingerly brushed her thoughts against his. His first reaction - lashing out - was purely instinctual, and she weathered the attack, diffusing the anger and rage he buffeted her with and replying with waves of concern and warmth. He growled again, but this time, it was deeper, more of a rumble than a real threatening sound.

Reassured, she carefully broadcasted her own emotions, absorbing every wave of anger that crashed against her mind and returning each with more calmness and echoes of her love for him. All the while, she kept brushing her hands across his shoulders, trying to sooth him physically as well as mentally.

Kyra didn't notice it at first, but somewhere along the way, she had started humming. Nothing grand, just a soft melody that she had heard and apparently memorized. And the sound seemed to be doing more towards calming Grievous than anything else. He had stopped his pacing, focusing all of his attention on her, eyes wide, head tilted a little to the side.

So she kept humming, going a step further to softly send the melody into his thoughts as she rose a hand to touch his face. He eyed her hand warily, growling warningly as her fingers brushed over his cheek, his raptorine body tensing. But she merely held his gaze and lightly caressed the armor under his left eye, smiling a little when he slowly relaxed and leaned his face against her palm.

It took almost five whole minutes before a soft, hesitant, rumble whispered out of him, Grievous' eyes losing the slightly crazed look, pupils returning to their usual size. "....t-taisilee?"

A relieved smile tugged at her lips before she placed a kiss over his vocalizer. "Welcome back."

He shivered. "You shouldn't have stayed," he murmured, even as he nuzzled her cheek apologetically.

"It's alright."

"No, it isn't," Grievous protested weakly, carefully shifting his hold on her to better cradle her to him while he buried his face against her neck, shivering when she stroked the sensors on either side of his head. The last twenty minutes were a dim blur in his mind. But, somehow, he knew that there would be bruises on her legs and side that would form to perfectly mirror his hands, could feel the headache his mentally lashing out had caused. "I hurt you."

"Grievous--"

"You should have left!" he snapped, jerking his head up to glare at her. "I hurt you! I could have killed you!"

She felt his guilt and self-loathing and sent a quick wave of reassurance into his thoughts. "If roles had been reversed, would you have left me? Would you have turned your back on me if I was alone and hopelessly lost in my own darkness?"

He balked at the idea. "Of course not! But, I could kill you simply by accident if I lose control!"

"And just because I don't flaunt my Force powers doesn't mean I don't know how to use them," Kyra murmured solemnly, her voice tinged with sadness.

"But--" He cut himself off, scowling as he realized what she was saying. Various memories of Dooku thoroughly beating him with his Force abilities during his lightsaber training surged to the forefront of his mind. "Hm. You never did tell me how powerful you are."

She smiled and cupped the lower part of his mask in her hands, placing another kiss over his vocaliser. "Don't try to change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject," he muttered, even as he rose his upper left hand to lightly caress her cheek. "I'm going off on a tangent."

A soft laugh left her. "Same thing."

"No, it isn't." Grievous moved as close to the edge of the mesa top as he dared with Kyra in his arms, then sat down, arranging his taisilee's body so she was leaning back against him. Sitting so close to one another gave him a sharp reminder that he was almost twice her height, and he grumbled as he wrapped his arms around her and tucked her flush against him, his raised knees framing almost her entire body.

And he was completely unable to stop a purr from leaving him when she slid her arms around his neck and snuggled close, placing a kiss on his chest. "You forgive too easily."

She met his gaze when he looked down at her and smiled. "Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes," he grumbled. Though he suspected that nuzzling his face into her hair lessened the severity of his tone.

"Want me to make it up to you?"

He sighed, dipping his head to meet her gaze again. "It's sort of backwards for the one who did nothing wrong to apologize, isn't it, taisilee?"

A rather amused smirk tugged at her lips. "Not if we make it up to each other."

Grievous stared at her for a moment, then chuckled, shaking his head. "And you call me incorrigible," he murmured as he tugged her a little higher, brushing the lower part of his facemask across her forehead. Purring, he slid his lower hands under her shirt, plasteel talons tracing the curve of her spine. There was very little that would keep him from her when she looked at him like that. Armageddon, perhaps. "Not that I'm complaining, my taisilee."

"Better not," she teased, laughing when he growled and tickled her. Yelping, she tried, and almost succeeded, in wiggling out of his grasp, a shriek of laughter escaping her when he grabbed the waistband of her pants and yanked her back into his arms.

Chuckling, he caught her and pulled her flush against him. "Where do you think you're going?"

Kyra grinned, seeing the playful look in his eyes. Such a welcome change considering what he'd been like only half an hour ago. "Um, first one back to our room gets to be on top?"

His breath left him in a growl, hands fisting in her shirt. "Should I give you a head start?"

"Nah." Smirking, she sent a wave of warmth, love and lust into him, watching his eyes darken as he growled and tried to haul her onto his lap. Instead of giving in, she twisted away, her shirt ripping and letting her scramble out of his reach. "I'll just have to be sneaky."

He was on his feet an instant later, tossing the material aside as he chased her down the stairwell. A part of his mind marvelled at how she had pulled him out of his rage and drawn him into this playful mood, her laughter and the scent of her growing arousal leading him through the Citadel.

It occurred to him that he'd never shown her through this section of his Lair, and Grievous quickened his pace, easily catching up to her and swinging her up into his arms, his cloak flaring out behind him. His upper hands instantly sought out her bra encased breasts, lower arms curling around her waist to hold her close. "Isn't fair if you don't know where you're going," he rumbled into her ear, taking pleasure in how her breath caught in her throat when he nuzzled the side of her neck. "I'd be a bad mate if I took unfair advantage. Though it is rather.... tempting."

"Is it?" Kyra gasped when he backed her up against a wall, lifting her off her feet as he interspersed his thin hips between her thighs.

A low chuckle left him. "Oh, yes." He knew her well enough to know just how to touch her, kneading her breasts with practiced skill and purring when he felt her hands grip his shoulders. "Now, it's left, left, straight, right, straight. Got it?"

"L-Left, left, straight.... Mmm....."

Grievous stroked the curve of her throat. "If you keep making noises like that, we won't make it to our room," he warned huskily, rumbling when she stroked his chest, sending a pulse of warmth straight to his innards. Trembling, he forced himself to let her go, eyes tracking her hungrily when she stumbled a little, unbalanced by the sudden lack of support from his body. "You'd better run."

She shivered at the tone of his voice, meeting his burning gaze for an instant before she spun and bolted, hearing his low growl as he held himself back for a moment before tearing after her. One advantage she had was that she weighed a fraction of what he did, allowing her to dart around corners with greater ease. A quick glance behind her showed that Grievous merely sunk one taloned hand into the stone wall, swinging himself into the adjoining hallway.

The look he gave her when he spotted her glancing back at him was downright predatory, sending a shiver down her spine. Gods, did she even care who got to their room first anymore? And as she felt his hand teasingly slide across her bare back, she decided that, no, she really didn't.

Grievous must have sensed the change in her, because he overtook her a second later, burying his face in her hair as he hauled her into his arms and carried her the last few metres to their room. His breath was coming in rapid pants as he freed a hand to type in the proper code, growling when she lightly dragged her nails across his armored back and curled her legs around him.

He staggered through the doorway, blindly locking the door behind him as he headed deeper into their quarters, talons already ripping her bra and pants off her body before yanking his cloak off of his shoulders. Echoes of her pleasure were already resonating through him, nearly overwhelming him, and he hissed as he backed her up against the closet wall.

"Taisilee." He reintegrated his arms back into two, guiding her legs around him again before he returned his hands to her breasts, ducking his head to nuzzle his mask against her shoulder. Gentle talons plucked at her nipples, sensors drinking in her soft gasp as she arched towards him. Even now, she stunned him with the amount of trust she had in him. Especially after she had seen him at his worst.

"Grievous...." Her breath caught in her throat when he growled against her neck, the vibration from his vocalizer sending goosebumps across her skin. Shivering, she wound her arms around his neck, mewling when he dropped his hands to knead her buttocks, pulling her into the roll of his thin armorplast hips.

Another growl left him as he wrapped his arms around her, steadying her as he carried her across the room, face partially buried into her hair. Her hands gripped at his shoulders, and he murmured her name as she placed kisses across his masked face, each embrace accompanied by a fresh surge of pleasure. He stumbled the last few steps, splitting his left arm so he could reach into her dresser while still keeping hold of her.

Plasteel talons closed around the familiar form of the alloy sex-tool, purring to her as he slid his hand between them, the attachment clicking into place as he slid the terminal into the groove on his pelvic armor. A startled hiss left him as it logged into his neural net, the artifical sensation of blood pulsing in his cock momentarily stunning him.

Kyra's breath warmed the side of his mask, pulling a shiver from him before he shifted his grip to her waist, nuzzling his face against her neck as he positioned himself and buried himself in her with one smooth thrust. "K-Kyra!" He struggled to hold himself still, panting, snarling, as he met her gaze and reintegrated his left arms, rising his hand to stroke the delicate curve of her throat, closing his eyes with a groan when she playfully ducked her head to suckle on one of his fingers.

Murmuring Kaleesh endearments, he wrapped his free arm around her waist and rolled his hips into hers, sensors along his body going into overdrive when she moaned and pressed her lips against the base of his armor-plated throat. Hands clutched at his shoulders as she matched his rhythm, letting him push her back against the wall as he seperated his arms, the soft mewl she loosed nearly driving him over the edge.

Grievous' lower arms wrapped around her waist, one of his upper hands returning to her throat while the other stroked her cheek. Her thoughts brushed against his, always asking, never intruding, and he hungrily accepted the waves of pleasure that she sent to him. When she gasped out his name and arched her back, he hunched over her and nuzzled his masked face against her chest, drinking in the sound and scent of her, eyes fluttering closed as the pleasure drugged him.

It was when he felt her core start to spasm around him that he froze, growling and hissing at her when she cried out in frustration and fairly begged him to keep moving, trying to roll her hips against him when he held her still. "Not yet, taisilee," he murmured into her ear, purring when she whimpered. "I'm not done with you yet."

"Grievous, please. More." Kyra felt him waver, just a slight tremble, the tiniest little inhalation of breath, and she took advantage, smirking as she sent a pulse of warmth through him.

He shuddered, a strangled groan leaving him as he crushed her to him and bucked his pelvis against hers, hips churning as he drove himself into her. Her hands scrambled for a hold on him, and Grievous caught her wrists in his upper hands, pinning her arms above her head. She matched his rhythm once again, crying out as he helped her meet his thrusts, lower hands gripping her waist, his mind and body overwhelmed with pleasure.

Seconds before climax would have crashed through them both, the chirping of an opening comm line snapped his attention away from Kyra. "NOT NOW!" he roared ferally, barely managing to place a hand over Kyra's mouth to muffle her dismayed cry. Blast it all, he hadn't thought to secure his own built in communicators.

Undeterred, the voice of one of his Magna Droids filled the room, drowning out his own rapid breathing. "Count Dooku requests that you contact him immediately, sir."

Grievous cursed and leaned over Kyra to start banging his head against the wall.

The droid sounded perplexed by the loud thuds. "Sir? Are you--?"

"I'M. FINE." He slammed his skull against the wall a final time, then snarled. "I'll be there shortly." And then he savagely locked down every single comm line he had, even his silent internal ones.

Kyra looked like she was ready to throttle someone to death. "If you leave me--!"

He cut her off with a low, guttural, purr, and shook his head, nuzzling her cheek as he quickly resumed the delightful movement of his hips, taking pleasure in how she started to writhe against him once again. "I would never," he growled, clenching his eyes shut as he rushed them towards climax. "I'll make this up to you later, taisilee. But, I can't draw t-this ou-t-t any-- ohhh!"

His ability to manage coherent thought dissolved into low groans and snarls, hearing Kyra's own breathing hitch in her throat as she rocked against him, her blue gaze locking with his gold. He shifted his grip, raising his lower left hand to trace little patterns over her jugular, feeling the pulse against his fingers.

She was on the edge, Grievous could sense it, could feel it in the tension that sang through her, and he pushed her towards it, growling at her breathless cries. He snapped his pelvis to hers, his cock pulsing as if it was flesh, so sensitive to her own core that suddenly clenched down on him.

A triumphant howl ripped it's way out of him, drowning out her own cry as she shook against and around him, back arching, hair tumbling down across her back and shoulders. He released her wrists, upper hands scrambling at the wall he was pushing Kyra up against, taloned feet embedding themselves into the floor. The alloy sex tool felt so real, that he could almost feel his seed shooting into her depths, could almost delude himself that he'd be able to impregnate her.

Wheezing, he slumped against her, weakly bracing most of his weight on his upper arms as he leaned his masked face against her cheek and struggled to regain his breath. Kyra moaned thinly and rested her forehead on his right shoulder, little aftershocks pulling gasps from both of them as her inner muscles fluttered around him, triggering mini-climaxes that continued to surge through them.

"I-I know I don't say this very often," he murmured into her hair, wrapping all four shaking arms around her. "But, I do love you, my Kyra."

She leaned her head back to smile at him tiredly, deep blue eyes still dark with passion. "I love you, too, Grievous. And you do say it," she added, raising a trembling hand to brush her fingers just below his right eye, hearing his sigh as he nuzzled her palm. "Every time you call me your 'taisilee', I can sense it from you."

A weakened purr rumbled out of him as he brushed the lower part of his facemask across her lips, shivering when she rose both hands to caress the sensor panels on either side of his head. He let himself indulge in the sensations for a little bit, then sighed heavily and carried her over to their bed, trying very hard to ignore how he was still buried within her. "If it was anyone other than Dooku--"

"It's alright," Kyra told him, hearing his doubtful grunt as he nuzzled her throat before he gingerly slid out of her, both of them gasping at the sensation. The look in his eyes as he set her down onto the bed made her want to grab him and try to convince him to stay, but she held back, watching instead as he slid the alloy member free of his pelvic armor, his low moan doing nothing in helping her to keep herself from jumping him again.

"No, it isn't alright." Growling, he stomped over to the dresser and hid the sex tool once again, somewhat in better control of his body now that it was disconnected from his neural net. Though he still wanted nothing else than to curl up with her.

Instead, he snatched his cloak up off the floor where he had previously tossed it, and slung it back over his shoulders, securing the clasp before moving over to her. He hunched over her, crouching low so he could brush the lower part of his mask over her lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

.

.

.

[crab-in-a-pocket]

reserved farmer headcanons + meeting the bachelors for the first time!

wanted to make some generally reserved farmer headcanons to kick off this blog and bc i see a lot of very friendly farmers out there and i... am not one of them LMAO

additionally, there's reference to a supposed volatile relationship with a (former?) loved one (projection time!)

also i forgot to open my askbox bc idk how to tumblr ?? i think it's open now (i hope).

tw: drinking and alcoholism, references to past trauma, one Bad Word (sh^t!)

when you first meet everyone, it's a quiet greeting and maybe a witty remark, but you don't stay for any chit-chat

close-lipped smiles are your signature move, along with the Man Nod whenever you run into someone

you are, of course, a nice and courteous person but you don't feel the need to say hello to everyone every damn time you pass by them because, really, you're too busy rushing to Pierre's for some seeds or lugging around foraged beach stuff

okay, maybe some of them think you're a little cold and an introvert who has... problems

but you're not! you are a strong and emotionally stable farmer who gets Shit Done and prefers to observe over participate and think over talk!

mayor lewis is extremely puzzled and almost mistakes you for someone else-- it's been over a decade and people change too much, too soon. he makes a remark about a wishing well your grandfather had built long ago (remember the well? how you fell in it that one time?) and you nod along politely (i didn't fall, i climbed in because i desperately needed my wish to come true)

it's nice to meet people who aren't as temperemental as the tides. maybe, for once, you could have a proper relationship with someone.

alex

easily the most annoying and extroverted person in town what with his obsession with sports and loud, brash personality but you two get along fabulously because you had that same passion for gridball in college before you were too busy being a corporate slave

he's a little surprised that you sit next to him at the saloon but he goes along easily and the conversation flows between the two of you easily, ranging from future plans (thinking of going pro... think i'll make it?) to the weather without sounding like you're making fake smalltalk (i wanted to play pro, too, and here i am now. if you really want it, you'll have to leave this all behind)

there's something genuine about him that's intriguing and it leaves you wanting to find out and see what the real alex is like inside because you can see through that wall he's made

and there's something enigmatic about you, who is reserved and quiet and seems to be a simple open book, when in fact, you are a very attractive onion with many, many layers

sam

you think he's immature. a wildchild, a manchild, a wildmanchild, really. sam, on the other hand, is drawn in by your calmness and how in-control you appear to be-- when you offer to play a game of pool when sebastian doesn't show up, he's delighted at the opportunity to know you better

okay, so he is immature and a wildmanchild but there is a softness in him that surprises you every time he shows it-- which is frequently around you

he has a soft smile to counteract his proud one and he's so in awe of how you get so much stuff done every day (i don't know how you do it, that's gotta be tough), every week, and every month (you'd like the responsibility, i think. to me, it's one big project i need to finish)

he has instant crush on you because you're so cool even though your line of profession really doesn't evoke much awe. i mean, you're  attractive, you are so in control of your life, and you have a really cute smile whenever he compliments you-- how could he not?

shane

bit bold of you to sit next to him at the saloon because every knows he's can be a real asshole, but he glances at you with a hint of awe and more than a hint of annoyance. you elect to ignore this and choose to order a whisky on the rocks (if you don't drink, call it apple juice)

whisky: shane's a touch impressed because you look like a lightweight. well, it's nice that someone can hold their liquor. he makes a remark about it (planning on getting drunk, huh?) and you raise a brow at him, looking a little haughty and tell him that it's your drink for the week. he's annoyed at your remark and starts an argument that surprisingly, settles down into a civil conversation

apple juice: he snorts at that and makes a remark about meeting penny for your lessons the next day. you play along and sip at your drink, making witty remarks (thank yoba for hangovers. it's the non-drinker's edge, really. just like not having liver failure). he's not sure if he should be annoyed or impressed at your cool-as-a-cucumber personality, not sure if it's too big city or too closed-off

you offer to buy him a pizza if you can take a away his beer-- at any rate, he looks like he'll end up with liver failure the way he's going. shane aquiesces and devours the entire pizza. your conversation is slow and punctuated with his loud chewing but you're pleasantly suprised that he's quite smart and well-read about whatever you're interested in

the fourth time you sit next to him, he turns down your pizza and doesn't say a word. neither do you and it's almost like it's back to square one until you realize that he hasn't made a single salty remark about anything. you decide to try again the day after tomorrow-- nothing comes too quickly to people like you and shane.

sebastian

it was the necklace you wore that caught his eye. a shining teardrop stone hanging off a gleaming silver chain. he had spoken before he could stop himself and watched as you smiled and told him he was right-- it is supposed to be a Yeti's tear.

you're pleased to meet someone who is also a homebody and a touch more reserved than a lot of other people in town. he's easy to get along with (oh, you're kidding, you really have the signed edition?) and he's got pretty good taste when it comes to literature-- after all, who can refuse a good sci-fi book? (of course i do, i'm dedicated fan)

oddly enough, your conversation is quick and eager and not all reserved. instead of the companionable silence everyone assumes you two to have, you two nearly talk over each other because you finally have someone to complain to about everyone's over-friendliness and he finally has someone who understands what it's like to be trapped in a small world

you tease him about the corporate rat race and he fires back at you about being a part of it. you like sebastian and he likes you-- it's as simple as that.

elliot

he had heard of you through leah who had heard of you through emily who had heard of you through gus who had heard of you from lewis. it was a long grapevine and he's not sure how much of the truth was preserved and it's almost a relief to meet you because, to be frank, he's tired of being the town's newcomer.

first-- you're not peppy and overly cheerful at all. second, you are definitely not hot-tempered. and third, there's something so fascinating about you, something hidden under your calm, pragmatic character. he finds a kindred spirit in you, save for the flowery words and, admittedly, the vanity.

you're amused to meet a writer living on the beach. the cabin was built by one of your grandfather's old friends, a rather surly man who had taken a liking to you when you were much younger. while the hut is in no way fancy, you can't help but consider how pretentious and, contrastingly, humble the writer must be. pretentious in such a way that he thinks living in a sandy, damp shack is a way to beat writer's block (it's odd, it's rarely a choice people make) and humble in such a way that he accepts and bears with living in a worn house with little complaint (it's admirable, if not a little silly!)

you find yourself in his company late at night when you can't sleep and it's so easy to open up to him because he's kind, he listens, and most importantly, he's not embarassed to admit he's got faults, at least to you. you let him see past your collected facade and into your cracked heart far sooner than you think and elliot doesn't mind at all

harvey

you might be the most mysterious person in town simply because of the way you present yourself. he finds himself always stuttering a little whenever you're around because of the way you watch him, set in a relaxed stance, your gaze flat and cool. later, he realizes that it's your resting face. he wonders about what you'd look like if you smiled-- really smiled

he's touched at the fact that you buy him coffee whenever he had to patch you up-- which is frequently, given your liking for the mines. you're adorable when he gives you general anesthesia. he had run out of local anesthesia and you needed a fair amount of stitches and though you told him that you have a high pain tolerance (stitches are far more painful than you think. i really don't want to put you through that), he insisted and you let him (fine, fine. get on with it, doctor). you had let out several inappropriate jokes under anesthesia and your cheeks had hurt from laughing non-stop

harvey's entranced. there's no other way to put it-- he's bewitched by your bright character hiding under that collected facade. he never pries for your secrets because he's got secrets, too. you like harvey because he's sweet and compassionate and even though he has to put up a firm, professional affectation, he wears his heart on his sleeve.

you see him as a friend at first, all platonic and it seems to be the end of it. but one day, as you hand him a coffee, he laughs and smiles and hands you a coffee just the way you like it. you're falling for him so hard and fast you think someone's put a spell on you that makes you notice the minute expressions on his face and mull over the way he talks to you. you're in love with him-- you can only hope he feels the same way too