#anyone like the purple tint on it?

[galaxygermdraws]

Saw this and realized I had only one job to do with it. Aka, the fact that it's 2023 and I'm like one of 5 Enderskizz Enjoyers left in the fandom. I like genuinely struggled drawing Angel Skizz I will not lie. Was a genuine struggle because. He looks too normal to me. Where is his ourple /lh

(reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. Thankyu)

[sparklev0id]

oh FUCK yeah these are gonna make some Sick ass hair and tails

[meiieiri]

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 ! [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: in which toji notices how you color-code your outfit every time you see each other…and promptly makes a game out of it in hopes it will cure his gambling addiction.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: colors | outfit inspos | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: 18+, suggestive themes at the end (explicit sex, fingering, mentions of masturbation), but otherwise, just a fluffy/semi-angst/semi-crack scenario of a lovestruck toji trying to cure his gambling addiction~~

Chewing on his pen, Toji’s fangs were beginning to hurt as he stares at the blank face of a random receipt he found in his mostly empty wallet. He seems to be deep in thought, he almost looks like he’s trying his best to crack a mathematical mystery except…he doesn’t give a shit about math and the only mystery he seems to be interested in cracking is…

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late!”

“Fuck.”

There you were in all your radiant magnificence eagerly waving to him from the university gates with your signature gummy smile he’s grown to love so much. You looked so beautiful and happy today…and you were wearing purple. A purple floral wrap dress. He was so sure you were gonna be wearing pink today Toji crosses out today’s date and the word: pink next to it with a frustrated “X”.

And in case anyone was wondering, this little guess-the-color-his-girlfriend-is-wearing-today game is something he came up with on a whim one day while waiting to pick you up after class. Of all the misfortune that has befallen him in his life, he has to thank the Zenin clan for one thing: sparing him the trouble of having to sit through an entire day of brain-frying university lectures about Kant’s second law of physics.

He hurriedly buries the receipt in his back pocket as he crosses the street, closing the twenty-five meter gap between the two of you. Pressing his lips against yours, Toji hums appreciatively when he tastes his favorite strawberry-flavored lip tint on your Cupid’s bow. You giggle as you nuzzle his nose when he pulls away, your hot breaths against one another’s lips providing a sense of comfort to you both. “What were you saying a while ago?”

“Ah, nothing.” Toji places a protective hand around your waist as the two of you walk to the nearby park for your and his usual after class/work stroll. “Just the usual profanity.”

Your lips curl into a soft pout at the thought of your boyfriend being upset about something. “Why?”

“Nothing babe,” he presses a soft kiss to your temple, his arm coming to rest on your shoulders. “Just lost at the boat races again,” he easily comes up with a white lie — a white lie that is bound to make you sad. He knows how upset you get when he relapses into his gambling addiction which, in his defense, he really is trying to quit for his and your — mostly your — sake. “Ah, I’ll do better, squirt. ‘m sorry.”

“Please?” you plead with him softly to which he nods, softly pinching your cheek in a silent promise to try to limit his gambling to…

…Getting tomorrow’s color right.

The next day, Toji spends about fifteen minutes in the shower trying to figure out what color you’d be wearing today. He’s already ruled out the possibility of you wearing black since it’s thirty degrees outside today, but with your extensive wardrobe, crossing out one color from the list is hardly enough to narrow it down. He’s never felt like this with boat races before since he has this natural tendency to just pick the boat with the most stable engine.

Ah, who was he kidding? He’ll just have to guess…and hope for the best, he steps out of the shower a few minutes of deliberation later.

After putting on a black shirt, he looks at his makeshift gambling ticket on the kitchenette counter with an angry look on his face. “Red. It has to be red.” He jots it down next to today’s date in red ink as if to manifest you’ll wear your off-shoulder red top today and those black trousers you bought from that thrift store in Harajuku last week.

Suddenly, a knock rips through the silence of his apartment and he goes to immediately answer the door. Toji clasps his hand around the doorknob for a bit, somehow still intent on delaying the inevitable. “Toji? The bags are getting kinda heavy,” you sheepishly called from the other side of the door and your boyfriend instantly snaps out of it. He swings the door open a little too aggressively that it makes you jump a bit when you hear the ear-splitting screech of the hinges nearly coming off the door. “Ah…hi, babe?”

You don’t know what to make of Toji’s face.

It’s like he’s feeling an odd mix of emotions all piled into one that they somehow cancelled each other out and now, he’s…staring at you…blankly. You have to admit, it looks a little funny. It’s not his usual stoic expression, it’s just pure…nothingness…like he caught a glimpse of the void or something and he can’t peel his eyes away from it.

“Can I come in—?”

“—Hi.”

“Eh?”

You burst out laughing at his delayed response. It’s like your boyfriend buffered for a full minute there which is so unlike him, considering he’s always so smoothly unbothered and suave in his demeanor. Toji scowls when you place a hand over his forehead. “You feeling okay?”

Toji gently shrugs your hand away, nodding absentmindedly. “Fine.” That sounded awfully peachy but you didn’t mind, Toji’s normally so awkward anyway, unbeknownst to most. In the eyes of those who don’t know him, Toji’s image is nothing short of a big, bad delinquent, but in your eyes, you mostly associate him with a typical house cat — quiet and snooty in every regard but actually genuinely affectionate. “Oh, let me help you with those.” He crouches down to help you with the groceries, sneakily stealing a kiss from you as you remove your shoes at the genkan before stepping into the living room.

Toji watches as you bound over to his apartment’s balcony, searching for the stray cat that normally drops by in the afternoon, with a grimace on his face.

“Of course she’s wearing beige,” he grumbles under his breath. Again, he crosses out today’s entry a little more forcefully this time.

At the balcony, you find Toji’s pet emeritus lounging away at the foot of the laundry rack. “Oh, there you are!” You crouch down and pet the white cat whom Toji affectionately refers to as ‘Yuki’ when he thinks you aren’t listening in whenever he feeds it after dinner. “You look like you could use a warm bath, come on!” You gently pick up the little creature and bring her inside. “Toji, I found Yuki~!”

You stop in your tracks when you see Toji with his forehead pressed to the cold marble counter causing you to instinctively place a comfort hand on his upper back to placate him while Yuki climbs atop the counter. At the familiarness of your touch, Toji, who looks like he’s still upset over some unknown thing he won’t tell you, rights his posture. What’s a man gotta do to get a winning streak around here?

“Hey, maybe you should lie down…”

“…I’m okay,” Toji half-whimpers, defeated, gaping at Yuki as she licks her paw contentedly. “Huh. You brought the fleabag in here?”

Somehow offended by that, Yuki violently hisses at him.

Okay, something is seriously wrong with Toji.

You just came out from using the washroom to see Toji on the kotatsu agitatedly scribbling on a piece of paper that doesn’t exactly look like a betting stub. You surmised it would have been something like that since Toji doesn’t normally get angry over anything except losing money on bets, but you are thoroughly surprised and comforted to see that wasn’t the case this time around. You sit down next to him, pulling your big baby into an embrace.

“My poor baby,” you teased amid Toji’s obvious misery. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” you smiled softly when he playfully pushes you down onto the tatami mats, all his weight pinning you down, his hand easily overwhelming yours as he pins them above your head. You try to squirm away from him, laughing when his other hand secures your hip to the floor, rendering you unable to struggle against him. Then, he lowers his lips close to your ear, his warm breath sending goosebumps to appear all over your skin, he sighs, falling slack at the crook of your neck.

Toji hates this, he probably looks like a kicked dog right now.

Today’s bet was yellow but when you opened the door to your apartment, you were wearing a mint green sweater over your cream relaxed fit ankle pants.

“Why can’t I do it? Why can’t I just win for once?” Toji’s voice is muffled as he buries his face in your shoulder. Instantly, you feel a pit form in your stomach. You’ve heard this before. You slowly push him off of you, your disappointment palpable in the way you utter your next words.

“Toji, you’ve been…gambling again, haven’t you? Baby, we talked about this.”

Your lover steadies the movements of his chest, feeling the need to defend himself. He wasn’t gambling, quite the contrary really, the thought of wandering over to the horse races hasn’t crossed his mind since he started this harmless little game. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, and every so often, he relapses into these undertones of his gambling addiction particularly the crippling desire to win at least once, to guess just one daily color scheme right.

And he’ll let it go. He swears he’ll let it go.

“I know, but really, babe, I’m not—“

“—Really? Then, what’s this?” You shakily point to the folded up piece of paper on the kotatsu. He has to pinch himself to hold in his laughter when he sees just how cutely distressed you are over an unassuming crepe stall receipt. “Don’t you start laughing now!” You swat his arm.

“I’m not laughing, you brat!” Toji purses his lips together, thoroughly enamored by you right now. “You’re worrying over nothing, Y/N. Trust me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, pushing Toji’s face away when he tries to kiss you. You cheeky little brat. “But you’re acting so weird though…” You poke him relentlessly on the cheek to get him to come clean, and you dodge whenever he tries to playfully catch your index finger with his teeth. “Just tell me.”

“Nope.”

You climb onto his lap, hugging him.

“Please.”

A kiss is a good bribe right?

“Uh-uh.”

He returns the kiss with a loud smooch!

“I’ll break up with you.”

You whine when he flicks your forehead, leaving an obvious red mark on it.

“You won’t.”

Your little back and forth is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Sighing, you finally let go of him. Looks like he isn’t going to budge. Toji gets up to answer the door, setting you down on the cushioned seat. Feeling a little bad when he glances back to see you still sulking about the issue, he subtly and intentionally allows the receipt to fall from his pocket knowing you’ll almost certainly go straight for it. He’ll just have to deal with your constant teasing for the next two weeks once you read the contents of the slip of paper. But he’d rather hear you laughing your heart out (even if it’s at his expense) than see you getting all anxious about him slipping back into his old destructive hobbies.

When you see the piece of paper falling like a leaf dancing in the wind, your eyes light up, and you crawl over to the spot where it’s fallen near the small bookshelf you have in the corner.

“Rakuten delivery.” Toji signs the courier’s clipboard, receiving your package. Just as he’s about to walk back into the living room to hand you your parcel, he stops in his tracks when he hears your cute chortles which you’re pathetically trying to subdue and a smirk appears on the corner of Toji’s lips.

Looks like the crisis has been averted for now.

“Wait, Toji…”

Toji pretends to not hear you, his fingers still buried in your sopping cunt, lusciously pushing in and out, your arousal coating his fingertips as he devours your lips in wanton need. You moan out his name again and he scowls when you reluctantly remove his fingers from your heat. “What? What is it?” What could possibly be so important?

You flush when he sensually licks his fingers clean, and you sit up, pulling down your skater skirt. “What’s an anniversary without a little surprise?” You kissed him on the lips, lingering for a bit, your eyes fluttering close as you taste your arousal on his tongue. “Mmh…”

“Just forget it.” Toji bucks his hips against yours, his clothed erection rubbing against your bare slit.

“No way. Just…wait here,” you kiss him again, boldly running your tongue over his bottom lip before pulling away and heading to the bathroom to get your surprise ready.

Toji groans in frustration, his head hitting the pillows he set down on the futon. After a few restless moments of him resisting the urge to fuck his hardened cock into his hand to finish himself off, he hears your melodious voice calling for him from down the hall.

A satisfied lopsided smirk appears on Toji’s lips, his eyes dark as he gazes at the most beautiful being in the world right now, shyly making her way towards him wearing nothing but an emerald silk robe. He licks his lips when he sees the outline of your nipples through the fabric, smirking as you sit down on the foot of the futon.

“All that for a silly little robe? What a letdown,” Toji smirks as he moves to untie the knot of your robe, only for you to slap his hand away.

“Uh-uh…you have to guess first.”

Toji gulps when you pull out the one thing he’s been agonizing over for the last few weeks from your robe’s hidden pocket. You grab a pen from the nearby bookshelf which he expertly catches when you throw it in his direction alongside the crumpled up piece of paper he’d been meaning to destroy for a while now.

“If you guess right, we could ditch the condom tonight. So do well,” you innocently bat your eyelashes at him.

Toji looks like he wants to jump off a ditch, the obvious tent in his sweatpants indicating just how hard he is right now. “No, don’t do this. Don’t fucking do this, Y/N…”

“…What color am I wearing tonight?”

[puppetmaster13u]

Idk I just had the intrusive idea of the JL or some hero investigating the GIW or some other group with suspicions of them keeping merfolk or similar what with the giant tanks and what's shown in their paper trails over the years.

Only for Big Ass realms naga to swim by the observation window in the water.

From top to bottom, left to right: Valerie, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, Danny, Ellie & Dan

Like I am saying 30ft (9.1m) at the least from head to tail, probably bigger in giant rooms. And like, visibly has been there for a while. Like the GIW have been studying them as the only available specimens after they hypothetically destroyed the portals.

The GIW is the ghost investigation ward after all, not extermination. Though that doesn't mean they're exactly treated the best either- more akin to something like a snake or crow, like semi-intelligent animals like dolphins, chained to make taking samples & dragging them from the ecto-infused waters easier.

And maybe they're a little feral, muzzles on save for feedings preventing them from talking, if they even remember how to make noises that aren't in the words of the Zone anymore.

Maybe they've convinced themselves that it could be worse, they could've been killed like Vlad, like an animal that had bit too much, over and over. Maybe they've convinced themselves that this isn't so bad, even if they're treated less than human, even if they've not seen the sun for who knows how long now.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Design Thoughts?

-Metal Core Valerie, her scales are literally made from it, in blacks and reds like molten gemstones. Her scales are sharp too, designed for easily cutting through stone. Lots of spikes that glow when channeling energy.

-Plant Core Sam, scales designed for plant seeds to catch hold and take root not unlike a sloth's fur, hiding the sharp thorn-like ones lining her backside. Also, acid. Blacks, greens, and flashes of bright purples & greens that hint at the poisonous nature

-Storm Core Tucker, very thick scales designed for going through the sand with side spikes that help channel electricity. Has both a rattle and a pair of stingers that could hypothetically 'plug in' to things as well. Some of the most bioluminescence of the group.

-Ocean Core Jazz, she is the most aquatically designed out of all of them, with lures all across her body that mimics the lights reflecting off water, tricking the mind from noticing her. Large carp-like scales and several rows of teeth. Lots of blues in coloration with hints of oranges & yellows like a sunrise at the sea

-Space Core Danny, with large amounts of spikes and 'vents' that cover him in an aurora if he were free. Spikes with their own miniature gravity forces, twisting the area around him as he moves. Black iridescence & swirling white-blue patterns like galaxies are painted across his body

-Moon Core Ellie, covered in fine needle-esque scales not unlike how actual moondust is. Very rough like sandpaper and a fin that mimics the tail of a comet tinted ecto-green. Mostly monotone colors otherwise.

-Sun Core Jordan, with similar vents to Danny but with flames and plasma. Thick fur at the end of his tail not unlike how Vlad's was, with thick scales that allow for swimming through molten material that could melt anything and anyone else. Blacks, whites, blues, almost like white-hot coals

[7s3ven]

GREEK ROMANTIC. luke castellan

IN WHICH… luke castellan joins an exchange program to visit camp jupiter for sword fighting experience but ends up spending most of his time with a girl from said roman camp.

Warnings : lowkey loser! Luke, kinda long… so uh yeah, Luke kinda thirsts over reader (he’s 19 and has spent most of his time in a camp, he does not get girls), i worked on this for like a week (PLZZZ READ AND LIKE AND COMMENT AND SUBSCRIBE 🫡), less strict version of Camp Jupiter

—

idea inspired by @the-empty-refrigerator !

I literally do classical studies, this is perfect for me to yap abt my roman knowledge. I have no idea what Camp Jupiter looks like so imma just use my Roman architecture knowledge for this. THIS IS MY FIRST LUKE FIC IN A WHILE LOL.

( disclaimer : info will differ from this fic to the canon plot bc i don’t know much abt camp jupiter )

In all honesty, Luke was a little nervous. He had willingly signed up for an exchange program between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter but now that he was on his way to the latter, he was anxiously bouncing his leg.

Years ago, there was a thick mist between the two camps due to previous events involving bloody wars. Now, that mist was lifted and the campers were free to sign up for an exchange program to visit the other.

Luke was wondering why he had agreed to sign up in the first place. Chiron promised he’d gain further experience in sword fighting, but warned that it wouldn’t be easy.

Camp Half-Blood prided itself on its friendly approach. Camp Jupiter was anything but that. Their campers were rugged, harsh, and disciplined by Lupa, the wolf who raised Romulus and Remus. Of course, their war-like nature made sense because the camp was founded on bloodshed when Romulus slayed Remus.

Luke lifted his head, looking around to see if he could spot anyone in a purple shirt. He was waiting on the side of the road, looking rather pathetic and sad to those passing by.

A black car with tinted windows rolled to a stop in front of Luke, and the car jolted open. “Are you Luke Castellan?” The demigod inside asked. Luke slowly nodded his head. “Hop in.” There was a bit of awkward shuffling from Luke to squeeze past the unnecessary amount of swords in the car. “So, how’s Camp Half-Blood?” The demigod driving questioned, looking at Luke through his shaded sunglasses.

“Good…” Luke was secretly relieved that someone was talking to avoid an awkward car ride. “Probably less demanding than Camp Jupiter, though. I’ve heard horror stories of your training from campers.”

The boy laughed as he sharply turned around a corner. “Yeah. It’s pretty bad. Made me wish I was a normal kid when I had to do all those pushups.” He paused before starting a new conversation. “Do you workout? Because you’ve got some nice muscles. Not to be weird or anything.”

“Uh, yeah.” Luke cleared his throat, “I sort of have to. Being a swordsman and all that.”

The other demigod whistled. “Must be hard, man. I’m Sohan, by the way. Son of Mercury, Hermes for you.”

Luke leaned forward, “I’m son of Hermes. That makes us like… distantly related or something.” Sohan laughed and tilted his head back.

“I like you, Castellan. Mind if I call you Luke?”

“Go ahead.”

The rest of the drive was each demigod taking their turn to explain different parts of their camps. Luke realized that Camp Jupiter didn’t have all the fun activities Half-Blood had. Though, there was a more bloody version of Capture the Flag.

“So you know how you have camp councillors, right? We have something similar but we call them praetors. They’re basically the leaders of the camp.” Sohan explained as he bit into his sugary chocolate bar. “We have two at a time, one girl and one guy.”

“So there’s only two leaders?” Luke questioned while opening the wrapping of his cheeseburger.

“Praetors are the highest leaders. Other than that, we have centurions, augurs, and quaestors. It’s confusing, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. You don’t really need to know what everybody does, just who’s who.”

It was all too confusing for Luke.

“Our current male praetor is also a son of Mercury, his name’s Jae. Our other one is a daughter of Venus, Aphrodite for you. I think.” Sohan paused before shaking his head, dismissing his doubt. “We all thought she was kind of crazy for going after the position. That’s when I learnt to never underestimate a child of Venus because they are brutal.” Sohan chuckled as the car finally came to an abrupt halt.

Luke peeked out the window, gazing at the tall trees. Past the thick forest, he could faintly see a river.

Sohan grabbed the swords from beside Luke, sheepishly chuckling. “New sword delivery.” He uttered, “Didn’t have time to put them away. Some are still in a box.”

Luke merely hummed as he hopped out of the car. “Need help?” He questioned. He took a handful of swords from Sohan’s pile, easily supporting their weight. Sohan carefully stacked a box on top of everything else before nodding.

“You know, if I was a girl or gay, I’d have a crush on you.” Sohan uttered as the pair walked through the forest. “How do the girls at Half-Blood like you?”

“I’ve been chased multiple times. That should say it all.” Nothing was scarier to Luke than a hoard of girls sprinting towards him on Valentine’s Day.

“That’s the Tiber River.” Sohan pointed out as Luke stumbled into a sunny clearing. “The river that Romulus and Remus were thrown into.” Sohan led the way towards small, slightly unstable bridge. He effortlessly walked over it, ignoring the way the rickety wood creaked.

Luke sighed, having no choice but to follow after Sohan unless he wanted to swim.

“I’ll be the one showing you around. I just have to drop these swords off with the praetors, or at least one of them, and then we can begin.” Sohan piped up. He was shorter than Luke with shiny black hair and olive skin. Luke assumed he was Asian with the slight accent peeking through and the red-inked tattoo on his shoulder displaying a dragon with Chinese characters.

“Praetor!” Sohan suddenly shouted. Luke spotted the H/C-haired girl as she turned around, in the middle of talking with another camper. Luke couldn’t instantly tell who her mother was.

“Oh, the swords. Soldier, go find Praetor Jae.” Y/N hurried the other girl off before jogging towards Sohan.

“This is Luke Castellan. The exchange camper.” Sohan said, trying to gesture towards Luke. The action caused the box on top of the swords to slip. It opened, a group of swords toppling out.

Luke was quick to react. Instead of attempting to catch every sword, he simply grabbed Y/N and pulled her side before the swords could skewer her.

There was a second of silence before Sohan spoke up. “I apologise for my clumsiness, Praetor.” He immediately crouched down to rearrange the weapons, his movements so fast Luke thought they were rehearsed.

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line as she stared at the swords on the ground. Her gaze flickered to Luke, who still had a tight grip on her arm. “Luke Castellan, right?” She asked, lips curving into a small yet charming smile.

Sohan looked at Y/N then at Luke. “I need to talk to Praetor Jae about something important. Praetor, would you mind showing Luke around?” Sohan didn’t wait for an answer before clumsily hurrying off, dropping swords every two seconds.

“You forget these swords!” Luke called after him but Sohan wasn’t listening.

“Dump them here with the rest.” Y/N instructed with a shrug. Luke dropped the swords, watching as they hit the floor with a loud clang. “Let’s get started with the tour.” She formally clasped her hands behind her back, standing up straighter than Luke had ever seen somebody stand.

“This is the Praetorian Gate, the entrance to the main barracks. On your right is the bathrooms. This street is called the Via Principalis, it’s the central road lined with barracks, the mess hall, and other necessaries needed for our wellbeing.”

Luke was a little stunned with how Y/N was speaking. She was talking like her words were scripted and had been practiced a million times in the mirror. Luke usually free-styled his tours.

“Centurion Sohan will show you your room once he finishes with his errand. For now, all you need to know is that you’ll be staying in one of these buildings. Behind them is the compost bin. Please do not jump in there because we have had to go dumpster diving to retrieve Half-Blood campers.”

Luke let out a quiet sigh. “It was Travis, wasn’t it?”

“You know him?” Y/N questioned, looking over her shoulder in mild interest.

“Unfortunately. He’s my brother.”

Y/N silently nodded, holding back a comment. “Beside the compost bin, where your raccoon of a brother jumped into for a game of hide and seek, are the stables.” Y/N led Luke down a smaller path to show him the stables. He glanced at the bin, arching an eyebrow at a badly drawn version of Travis on a sign with a large X on it.

“We had to ensure nobody else jumped in again.” Y/N explained, “So we put up a sign. It’s not very well-drawn. All the Apollo kids were away so we had no one artistic around. Over there is the training centre. Feel free to use it whenever. We have plenty of new swords as you already know.”

“What about those buildings?” Luke asked in curiosity as they walked back towards the main entrance.

“That’s the Praetorium and Principa, used to hold meetings and act as headquarters. Those aren’t important to you.”

Camp Jupiter was bigger than Luke expected. There were two main areas for civilisation and even a university.

“This is the forum. This area of camp is basically a replicant of Rome itself.” Y/N piped up, “There’s the senate house, also used for meetings, New Rome University, the Coliseum where we sometimes train or host mock battles, Circus Maximum, again used for training, sometimes chariot racing, ceremonies, and so on. There’s a lake over there if you ever wanna spend your free time swimming, but I will warn you that if you ever take your shirt off, it will attract attention.” Y/N teasingly smiled, confusing Luke. She was strictly sticking to her job as a praetor a moment ago, reciting a speech about the camp.

“Uh… why will it attract attention?” Luke sheepishly asked, feeling a little embarrassed for not catching on.

“You’re a new boy, Luke Girls here love fresh meat, especially when they have as much muscle as you.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed light pink. “Right.” He uttered, suddenly aware of how a group of girls was waiting for Y/N to leave so they could pounce on him. “Let’s uh, go back to the bin. I wanna see that sign of my brother again.”

Y/N slightly chuckled. “They aren’t gonna hurt you, Castellan.” She said, referring to the girls behind her, “Unless you want them to.”

“I would prefer to keep all my limbs attached to my body, thank you very much.”

Y/N cracked another amused smile. “Suit yourself. I like my boys missing an arm.” She joked.

“Guess I’ll cut mine off then after all.” Luke wittily retorted.

“We have a game of capture the flag happening tonight if you want to join.” Y/N offered, “You can sacrifice your arm for me then.”

Luke grinned, happy he was actually getting along with someone from Camp Jupiter given their rivalry with Half-Blood. “I’ve heard your games of Capture the flag are a little more harsher… to what extent is that actually true?”

Y/N quietly laughed. “It’s Roman style, someone will probably lose an eye to be honest.” She said it in such a joking tone but there was a look in her eyes that alerted Luke she wasn’t joking.

—

Luke would definitely come to regret even thinking about joining this game of capture the flag. The teams weren’t organised by Cabins, instead each leader strategically chose their members months before the actual game to ensure a high chance of victory.

Luke ended up standing across from Y/N, dressed in golden armour and holding a sword that seemed to be a little too heavy. Sohan was with Luke, checking his arrows.

“They still allow you to use how and arrows?” Luke questioned, remembering how said weapon was banned from Half-Blood’s game of capture the flag because of an incident.

“What’s fun without a little arrow wound?” Sohan joked. Luke slowly turned his head, eyes wider than usual.

“Not being stabbed by an arrow seems more fun.” He muttered to himself.

He glanced at Y/N, who was carelessly swinging her long spear around. She met his gaze and paused for a second before lightly dragging her thumb over her throat with a patronising grin.

Luke gulped. “She’s gonna kill me.” He whispered.

“Oh, good! That means she likes you.” Sohan nudged Luke with a smile, “The harder she tries to kill you, the more she likes you.”

“That seems a little contradictory.” Luke replied, almost shaking.

“When the bell rings, and trust me you’ll hear it, just follow me. We’re paired together to hide and defend the flag. All you have to do is hide and jump out to stop the opponents. They’ll think it’s only me and then, bam! You come in.” Sohan explained the plan to Luke, who was listening intently so he wasn’t the one to lose an eye.

Sohan tightly gripped the flag in his grasp. “We have ten minutes to plant the flag somewhere. A second bell will ring and that means the game has started.”

Luke nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. A loud bell suddenly rang out through the clearing and Sohan immediately sprung into action. He sprinted off and Luke scrambled to follow him.

“This way!” Sohan exclaimed as he sharply turned to the left. Luke leaped over a log, landing heavily on the hard dirt. The forest should have felt familiar since Half-Blood also played surrounded by trees but this felt different. Luke had no idea where they were going until Sohan came to an abrupt stop.

“Here should be good.” He panted.

Luke looked around. They were surrounded by heavy vegetation and he was barely able to see past the thick tree leaves. Sohan lodged the flag between two stones and nodded in approval.

“The bell will be ringing soon. Hide over there.” Sohan ordered, pointing at a bush beside the flag. Luke sighed as he ducked behind the bush, the twigs below him scraping at his knees. “I hate this hiding place.” He muttered, “I feel like a Guinea pig.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” Sohan replied. “The bell should be ringing any second now. Remember to stay quiet.”

Luke silently rolled his eyes as he ducked lower to the floor in order to get comfortable and peek past the bush branches. In the distance, he could hear the sound of the second bell ringing followed by loud shouts varying in volume. Some kids at Half-Blood, mainly the Ares kids, loved battle cries but not to that extent.

Luke waited ten minutes and when nothing happened, he resorted to lying on his back. Twenty minutes passed and there was still no sign of any other demigods. Luke had resorted to seeing how many leaves he could count before he heard a quiet rustle. He paused, waiting.

Everything was still before Luke heard weapons clash loudly together. He peered above the bush, instantly recognising Y/N past her bronze helmet. There was another kid reaching for the flag while Sohan was struggling with Y/N.

Luke quickly reached for his sword, flinging it at the Roman demigod before he could grasp the flag. The handle hit him in the face, temporarily stunning him. Luke was swift to jump out and grab his sword, holding it in front of him.

“Sorry ‘bout that, man.” Luke uttered. He swung his blade at the demigod boy, who he later realized was named Nikolai because of the inscription in his helmet.

Nikolai counterattacked Luke, effortlessly pushing the Greek brunette back. Luke was reluctant to injure a kid he barely knew but Sohan continuously shouting “hit him” was getting annoying.

Luke grabbed Nikolai by the shoulders, shoving him away from the flag. Sohan was battling against Y/N, who had a spear similar to Clarisse’s. Compared to her spear, Sohan’s bow and arrows and backup dagger wouldn’t be of much use.

Nikolai swung his sword at Luke but every time, Luke managed to block the hits. Luke pushed Nikolai’s sword away, but he underestimated his strength and the sword went flying.

Both Nikolai and Luke turned their heads to stare at the weapon lying on the floor.

“Hit him!” Sohan exclaimed through gritted teeth as he held Y/N back by her arm.

Luke, on instinct, punched Nikolai’s shoulder and scrambled for his sword. He leaned over to grasp it but he was unexpectedly kicked from behind.

Y/N, who Sohan should have been holding back, had knocked the son of Mercury to the ground and made an instant beeline for Luke.

“Don’t chop my head off!” Luke yelled as he rolled to the left to avoid Y/N’s sword as she forcefully swung it down. Luke kicked her ankles, causing her to sway.

Nikolai made another reach for the flag but Sohan managed to shoot an arrow his way, luckily not hitting the boy but it served as a warning.

“You said this was an easy job!” Luke yelled at Sohan as Y/N made another attempt to hit Luke. He tried to strike her ankles again but the same trick wouldn’t fool the praetor twice. She effortlessly pulled him up and slammed his back against a tree, holding a smaller knife to his throat.

“I am literally so scared right now.” Luke wheezed as he wiggled around in Y/N’s surprisingly strong grip. Sohan shot another arrow, this time at Y/N. It barely missed her head. While she was shocked for a second, Luke grabbed her by both shoulders and pushed her back.

“We got a runner!” Another voice suddenly shouted. A member of Y/N’s team, sprinted into the area, followed by two boys from Luke and Sohan’s group.

Sohan scrambled to stop the runner aiming for the flag but Nikolai knocked him back to the ground. Luke made the executive decision to pursue the runner. There wasn’t much Luke could do with his sword so he tossed it aside and did the only other thing he could think of; he tackled the other demigod.

Y/N let out a laugh as the two boys toppled down a hill, each trying to let the other take the brute of the floor. Luke groaned as he spat out a mouthful of daisies. His helmet had fallen off somewhere and he had no energy to actively search for it.

The bell rung once more and the demigod beside Luke sighed as he removed his helmet, running a hand through his messy blond hair.

“You’re the Greek kid, right?” He questioned. “I’m Kato.”

“Yeah. Luke, nice to meet you.”

“Do you also feel like you’ve got internal bleeding?” Kato grumbled as the two boys made no effort to sit up, instead choosing to just lie on the floor among the flowers.

“Oh, definitely.” Luke replied, “Think I might be sick later.”

—

“You both have bruised ribs. Honestly, it could have been worse. Drinking this will help.” An Apollo kid handed Kato and Luke a foul smelling drink.

“It’s best to get it over and down with.” Kato whispered, “Cheers.”

“Not sure if I actually want to consume this.” Luke wrinkled up his nose but tilted his head back away.

The pair gulped down the liquid as fast as they could, both gagging once they had finished.

“Wow, you guys are almost like twins. If Kato had brown hair, you guys might actually sell it.”

Kato and Luke exchanged a look before they both grinned.

“I didn’t know there was temporary hair dye.” Kato said as he stared down at the box. Y/N sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

“Do you want it or not? Coloured hair spray might be easier for you.”

“Yeah, give me that.” Kato threw the box of temporary dye aside. Luke easily caught it, handing it to Y/N.

“Thanks.” She smiled before looking through a trunk of hair supplies. “Good game out there, Castellan. Are you always that quick thinking on your feet?”

Luke shrugged as he stood beside Y/N, leaning on the bunk bed behind him. “I guess? Most of the time we have to think quickly at Half-Blood. We don’t exactly have strategies for every little thing.”

Y/N and Kato stared at Luke in mild surprise. Y/N let out a quiet huff, “I guess you Greeks are disorganised like Lupa said.”

“She said what?” Luke stood up straight. “We aren’t that disorganised. We still have tactics.”

“Yeah, and they kind of, forgive my language here, suck.”

“At least my whole existence isn’t based on a brother who killed his sibling because of anger issues.” Luke muttered loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“You are so dead, Castellan.” Y/N retorted, leaning forward.

“I don’t really want to use the same threat as you because that’s boring. But I will kick your ankle again.” Luke replied.

Kato cleared his throat. “Don’t mean to interrupt whatever… lover argument you have going on but how does this spray work?”

“The cap’s still on. You gotta take it off first.” Y/N exasperatedly sighed.

“Oh, yeah, got it. Go back to your lovers quarrel.”

Y/N picked up an empty box of hair dye, tossing it at Kato. “There is no lovers quarrel!” She exclaimed.

“Really? Bc I felt something.” Luke teasingly piped up from behind her.

“I hope you choke.” Y/N mumbled, sending Luke a warning glare. “Maybe I should’ve cut off your arm. Would’ve taught you a reason.”

“I’ll just take my shirt off because like you said, no one can resist me.” Luke grinned as they bantered back and forth.

“Don’t rely on your looks to escape me, Castellan. Next time we play capture the flag, I’m kicking you down another hill no matter whose team you’re in.” There was a knock on the door and a rough-looking teenager peeked his head inside.

His body was covered in cuts, grazes, and purple bruises. He had a slit in his left eyebrow and an earring dangling from his right ear. When he turned to Y/N and said something in Latin, Luke noticed a shiny piercing on his tongue.

“Castellan, right?” The boy asked, pointing at Luke. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jae, the other praetor.” Jae stepped forward and reached for Luke’s hand, firmly shaking it.

“Nice to meet you.” Luke greeted him.

“I see you’ve already found yourself acquainted with the devil reincarnated.” Jae slyly grinned at Y/N, who could do nothing but huff and cross her arms over her chest in annoyance. “I’ve got to borrow Praetor Y/N for a second, hope you boys don’t mind.”

Y/N sighed as she followed Jae out the door. “This couldn’t have waited?” She asked.

“I was reluctant to interfere. You and the Castellan boy seemed quite close.” Jae replied with a shrug.

“I will literally feed you to the monsters if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“She likes you.” Kato uttered once Y/N was out of ear range.

“How can you tell?” Luke arched an eyebrow as he sat down on a nearby chair.

“She never argues with anyone. Not like that at least. When she argues, you have to listen because there’s no choice. That was more like… bickering used as an excuse to talk to you.” Kato said as he finally put down the can of hair spray. “Yo, we kind of do look alike. That’s freaky.”

Luke ignored Kato’s last point. “How do you know she doesn’t bicker?”

“Praetor Y/N is a straight to the point type of girl. You’ll know when she doesn’t like something. If she was really arguing with you, she would’ve had you shut up within your first two words.” Kato laughed, “She made me shut up once by shoving the words down my throat… literally. She wrote my words on a piece of paper and made me eat it.”

Kato paused, shivering as he remembered the chilling moment. “Anyway, Centurion Sohan, me, and a couple of other guys are going to the lake for a swim. You wanna join?”

“Yeah, sure, why not. I’ll act as eye candy like Y/N described me.” Luke sarcastically said, making Kato chuckle.

“Trust me, the girls will love you.” Kato only reassured Y/N’s point.

There were already a few smaller groups at the lake when Luke and the others arrived. As Luke combed a hand through his hair, he noticed a few girls looking his way and giggling. Kato nudged him.

“See? Told you they’d love you.”

Luke simply nodded. He lifted his shirt to pull it off but unexpectedly saw Y/N not too far away, locked in what seemed to be a serious conversation with Jae. Her eyebrows were tensely furrowed before her gaze suddenly switched to Luke.

He almost jumped at how fast her eyes moved. He quickly pulled his shirt off, giving Y/N a small wave. She slightly raised her eyebrows but never looked away. Slowly, she waved back.

Jae finished speaking and Y/N nodded, pointing to her right and uttering a few more words before they split ways.

“Wow, you two really do look like twins.” Y/N said as she looked at Luke and Kato. “You sure you don’t share a mother?”

“You out here for a swim too?” Luke questioned, squinting under the bright sun.

“No. I came here to check out the guys and pick my next murder victim.”

“How charming. And I thought what we had was special when you threatened to roll me down a hill again.”

“I’m saving you for last, Castellan. When the police find my victims, I’ll ask you to hide me then I’ll stab you in the back.”

“You know what I’m craving right now?” Luke switched the topic, “A pina colada.”

Y/N stared at Luke for a minute before furrowing her eyebrows. “Is that… some sort of drink?”

She heard Luke dramatically gasp. “You’ve never tried one?! Lucky for you, I’m a master at making cocktails. Just sit here, look pretty, and choose your next target. I’ll be right back.”

That was how Y/N found herself hanging around Luke almost every day, trying different cocktail mixtures he made while sitting under a large umbrella to avoid the heat.

“Why’d you put so much vodka in this one?” Y/N questioned, frowning, “It’s all I can taste.”

“My hand slipped.” Luke shrugged. He was lying on a towel beside Y/N, taking advantage of the sun to gain that perfect summer tan, as he liked to call it. “How come you never join your friends in the water?” He questioned, glancing over at Jae and a few other campers who were beckoning Y/N over.

“I don’t like water.” She covered her eyes with her shaded sunglasses, ignoring her friends. “It messes up my hair.”

“I’ll go swimming then. I think my back is turning red now.” Luke stood up, stretching. Y/N gulped down the rest of her drink, carelessly throwing the cup to the side as she jumped to her feet.

“I’ll come if you’re going.” She announced.

“Why the sudden change in attitude?” Luke teased, nudging her.

“I will force your head under water and let you drown.” Y/N deadpanned, causing Luke to take a small step back. Luke reached for his water bottle and took a large sip while Y/N peeled her shirt off. Luke’s eyes flickered to her for a second before his cheeks turned red and he spat out a mouthful of water.

Y/N looked at him weirdly, a judging glint in her eyes. “You good?” She asked.

“Yeah… fine.” Luke choked out.

Y/N didn’t believe him. She looked down at her bikini with bows and ruffles before raising an eyebrow. “Are you staring at my boobs?” She accused him.

“No! Are you staring at my abs?!” Luke tried to change the conversation but his attempt backfired.

“Yes. You’ve got nice abs.” Y/N shamelessly admitted like a true Roman, never scared to state the obvious.

“Well, in that case, you’ve got nice boobs.” Luke wanted to punch himself as soon as he said that.

“It doesn’t sound right when you say that to a girl.” Y/N scrunched up her face which only made Luke’s desire to be swallowed by the ground stronger.

“I realised that.”

“Praetor! Luke! Are you gonna keep chatting or finally get in the water?!” Sohan yelled from his position on a rock in the water.

“My makeup’s gonna get all ruined.” Y/N huffed but still dipped a leg into the lake. “It’s cold.”

“Lake’s are usually cold.” Luke retorted, not hesitating to jump into the deep end of the lake. Water splashed everywhere and Y/N shielded her face from the droplets.

“Watch it!” She yelled out a warning at Luke as he resurfaced, grinning.

“Oops.” He sarcastically apologised.

Y/N sat down at the shore’s edge, soaking her legs in the lake. “I’m good here.” She said, kicking her legs.

“You sure? The water isn’t that cold once you get used to it.” Luke swam closer to her and heaved himself up onto the warm rock.

Y/N kicked the water again, nodding. “Yeah… I’ll ruin my hair and makeup if I get in.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear but it slipped out again, much to her annoyance.

She frowned, reaching for it again, but Luke beat her to it. “You’re pretty without makeup.” He said as he securely tucked the strand away.

Y/N glanced at the boy beside her, suddenly feeling very small. Luke made her feel vulnerable, not necessarily in a bad way. His deep brown eyes made her want to pour out every secret.

Like how she secretly hated an Apollo boy because he kept beating her to the last piece of cake.

Or how she cheated on every English paper in school to raise her GPA because she simply couldn’t read properly.

Or perhaps about how she was afraid of love, despite being the daughter of Venus herself. That fear always made Y/N feel a little stupid.

Or… how she couldn’t swim and refused to swim because she almost drowned once while her so-called friends laughed at her.

“Castell- Luke…” She quickly corrected herself, realising how accustomed she had become to Luke’s presence. “I can’t swim.” She blurted out. “My hair and makeup don’t matter… I just can’t swim. And I don’t want to swim.”

Luke carelessly shrugged and for a second, Y/N was scared he’d dismiss her fear.

“I’ll stay here with you then.” He said instead. “I’ll keep you company.”

“You can swim if you want to.” Y/N replied, fidgeting with her hands. Her heart leaped in her chest and her stomach felt queasy. Was this a crush?

“Nah. I like it here better.” Luke shifted closer to Y/N, slowly slinging an arm around her shoulder. He was expecting her to immediately shove him away but she remained still. Her back was rigidly straight until she hesitatingly relaxed.

“Thank you.” She said as the sun began to set, hues of orange, yellow, and blue painting the sky and reflecting into the lake. Y/N was surrounded by laughing demigods and legacies but she could only focus on Luke; how his hair looked perfect despite being damp, how his skin glistened in the sun, and how his arm was wrapped tightly around her as if he was protecting her from something.

For once, she felt safe. There was no quest she was required to complete, no glory to seek for the Legion, and no heavy exceptions weighing her down.

It was just her and Luke sitting beside each other in comfortable silence.

—

“Are you sure you have to go?” Sohan asked as he tightly clung to Luke, fully prepared to force the son of Hermes to stay.

“My little sister’s waiting for me.” Luke said as he hugged Sohan back, firmly patting his shoulder. Annabeth. Luke had told Y/N about his sister; they weren’t related by blood but she was his found family.

“Make sure to visit and right.” Jae uttered as he struggled to pull Sohan away from Luke. Y/N stood silently next to Jae, holding Luke’s bag.

“Have a safe trip.” She told him, which wasn’t the goodbye Luke had been expecting. He envisioned a small smile, maybe a hug if Y/N was in a good mood.

“Thanks. Good luck with your praetorian duties.” Luke replied, nodding his head.

“You ready to go?” Kato piped up, throwing the car keys in the air and effortlessly catching them.

“Yeah… I guess.” Luke muttered, stealing another glance at Y/N.

‘KISS HER!’ His mind screamed at him. This would be his last opportunity to address the feelings he had caught for Venus’ favourite daughter.

Jae and Sohan looked at each other then at Y/N, who seemed to be restraining all emotions. They almost seemed like they were begging her to make a move on Luke before it was too late.

“Bye, Y/N.” Luke stuck out his hand and Y/N didn’t hesitate to grab it.

“Good bye, Castellan. Camp Jupiter will miss you.”

Luke knew Y/N was too prideful to say ‘I’ll miss you’. This was her alternative.

Luke and Y/N stared at each other with their hands still gripping the other before they finally halted the awkward exchange.

Luke followed Kato towards the car, somewhat hoping Y/N would chase after him. She didn’t.

Y/N watched with her head held high to conceal her frown as Luke walked away, waiting for the moment he’d turn around and run back. He never did. He passed the stone arch that acted as entrance to Camp Jupiter, most likely to never return and if he ever did, it’d be in a few long years.

—

A year had passed since Luke’s departure from the Roman Demigod camp. He was pleased to be back at Half-Blood, but there was someone who was missing. As expected, some Aphrodite girls showed strong interest in Luke, but he never paid them attention.

They were beautiful, but Luke missed the girl who would threaten to throw him to the wolves if he even looked at her. He found her guarded personality charming.

“Luke, Chiron needs you to show one of the exchange campers from Jupiter around.” Chris, Luke’s brother, said. “She’s the last one.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Luke spent months hoping Y/N would show up randomly one day but after three, he gave up. He had heard from Sohan’s regularly written letters, which often featured Jae and Kato too, that Y/N was busier than ever as a praetor. She had doubled her work load, working until she quite literally passed out. Sohan expressed his concerns but didn’t quite know what was wrong.

“She’s waiting in the strawberry field.” Chris told Luke, pointing him in the right direction.

Luke took his sweet time in walking towards the field, his hands shoved into his pockets. There was a figure standing amongst the strawberries, admiring the various flowers and berries.

“Late as usual, Castellan. How Greek of you.”

Luke’s eyes lit up at the sight of the girl in front of him. He cracked a large grin. “What can I say, Y/N? I’m a true Greek demigod.”

FIN.

A/N: while writing this, I was randomly reminded of an old classic book I read where the main characters are clearly in love but know they’ll never see each other again after they split ways. And now I’m sad.

PJO TAG LIST (will update later, I’m tired 😴): @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @jennapancake @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @be-bap @kamiliora @2hiigh2cry @gisellesprettylies @ur-lacol-dsylexic @lilacspider @lukecastellandefender

[the-aisei-cousins]

Promo: Murder and Thread

Here are Yolei's and Yoshino's Characters Files

...

A black screen appears as the voice of a girl can be heard.

"Hey Yo- Aaa! Why are you covered in blood!?"

"Hey Yoshino! I just got back from a killing Spree~"

The second girl giggles as the camera went on. It showed two teenage girls. One in what seems to be a black maid Uniform covered in blood. She had long dark purple hair in a braid. She had black tinted glasses and freckles on her face and the back of her hands. She smiled for a bit until she noticed the camera.

"What's up with the camera?"

She looks back at the other girl. The other one had long wavy mint hair with one small piece of it braided. She was wearing a cute white dress with a green vine pattern on the bottom of it and a part of her sleeves. Her sleeves were laced up together up to the halfway point and she had a pretty blue corset on with lace up blue short boots. She stocking where white and had the same vine pattern, but it was though out the shocking.

Both girls had the same body type, same fair skin, and the same bright pink eyes. The mint hair girl smiles.

"Oh, I thought we do a blog like Irofuka suggested to meet some more people."

"Well, if Milord suggested it then let's do it!"

The mint hair girl drops a sweat before turning to the camera.

"My name is Yoshino Aisei and this is my cousin, Yolei Aisei"

Yoshino gestured to Yolei.

"Nice to meet you all. I'm the Ultimate Spree Killer."

"Why did you say that part!? What if the police finds out!?"

"They can't do anything. As long as I have my Ultimate Title, they can't arrest me. Heck, I could even kill them and get away with it!"

"...don't mind her, she just got done with her killing spree. She will be like this for a few minutes or an hour. A-anyways, I'm the Ultimate Seamstress. Please ask us questions or just talk to us."

Tags:

@after-neo-world @ask-emma-magorobi @ask-the-otonokoji-twins @ask-the-warriors-of-hope @xxcottoncandybitchxx @master-detective-archives @y0u-f4il3d-m3 @mikado-sannoji @i-spy-with-my-lethal-eye @fall-of-eden @human-monokuma @sinistersmiles @kamon-of-hope @beautiful-despair @would-you-like-a-scooby-snack @k0k1 @edens-garden-au @scarred-smiles @yui-samidare-reborn @low-activity-side-characters(Akane Taira) @Anyone else

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 18]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

warning: canon typical violence || vomit

“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor, lift your open hand - Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So, kiss me.”

You hum along with the song playing quietly in your ear as you scrub the bathtub. It is one of your cleaning nights and you are focused on getting everything back to tip-top shape. The tub currently has a bit of a purple tint to it after you tried a new brand of bubble bath for Minnie - you are lucky she isn’t now grape flavored as well - and you would very much like it gone. It is coming off easier than you expected, but it is taking a fair amount of elbow grease. 

It is easy to space out and listen to music as you work. Your cleaning playlist are songs you can vibe to that you don’t really associate with anything in your life - mostly you think about the movies the song has been featured in - but you are finding, as you scrub and romantic lyrics float through your head, a certain name and face keeps appearing in your mind’s eye. 

You know it isn’t wise for you to develop a crush on Matt - just because you have a daughter together does not mean he wants to kiss you. You know you need to squash the feelings down before you get yourself hurt. 

But sometimes it is nice to have silly impossible daydreams while you are cleaning alone at ten at night. Having a goofy little smile while you picture yourself spinning around a garden in a dance isn’t hurting anyone. You have a good grasp on reality - you just sometimes want to pretend to be the lead in a cheesy 90’s teen romcom - is that too much to ask? 

No one else needs to know Matt has replaced the lead actor. It is a secret just for you. 

As you scrub bleach powder around your purple-haze tub drain, you catch movement reflecting in the shine of the spout. You can’t hear anything over your music - even though you only have one earbud in - so you sit up and turn around. Of course, it is Minnie standing in the doorway, clad in her jammies, and dragging Scooby by his big paw.

You pull the earbud out, frowning to your daughter, “Is everything alright, Mouse? Is my music too loud? Did it wake you up?”

She shakes her head, then in the most miserable voice you have ever heard from her, whines, “My tummy hurts.”

Instantly, you set down your sponge and your earbud so you can go to your daughter, “your tummy hurts?” 

You move to pick her up, wanting to comfort her, but it is made clear she doesn’t want this by stepping back and holding up her toy between the two of you. It hurts, but it passes, as you know you don’t like to be touched when you feel sick, so instead, you kneel down to be in front of her and try to find the root of the problem. 

“How does your tummy hurt?”

She sways side to side, face scrunching up as she self-analyzes. You can see the little wheels turning in her head, but then there is a very subtle shift in her eyes that only years of being a mother makes you notice. With lightning speed, you grab Minnie under her arms and spin around to hold her over the toilet just as her dinner begins to regurgitate. 

Your heart breaks as she empties her stomach and you try to soothe her the best you can, rubbing her little back as she coughs and hacks. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, get it all out. Get all the icky out,” you tell her. 

Luckily, her stomach is small and there is not a lot of expel. Once you are sure she is done, you flush the toilet then close the lid, intent on setting Minnie down so you can clean her up, but of course, now she doesn’t want to be put down. She wiggles and turns until she can bury her head into your neck, sniffling and hiccupping, and clinging to you the best she can. 

You can feel bits of vomit on your neck, but since you aren’t completely covered in it, you try to ignore it in favor of your distressed daughter. You begin to rock her gently, humming one of her favorite lullabies as she processes how distressing throwing up is.

You don’t remember when the last time she got sick was, but you have a guess as to what caused this upset - you tried a new ice cream for dessert tonight. It had made your stomach a bit gurgly and you had solved that with a TUMS. 

It hadn’t occurred to you to ask if Minnie needed one, too. 

A lesson for the future.

Minnie doesn’t dissolve into full on tears and after about two minutes, she pulls back and croaks out, “‘cooby?”

She had dropped the toy when you had first picked her up, so you stretch to grab him for her. She quickly switches to clinging to him and you go right for a washcloth. You wipe down your neck first - you can only handle so much - then start on cleaning up your poor Mouse. 

In a blessing from the gods, she only has a little bit of gunk around her mouth and nose. It doesn’t seem like anything got on her clothes. 

Getting her to rinse her mouth out takes a bit of convincing. 

“It will help the icky taste go away,” you promise, but she just clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. You very much get why she wouldn’t want anything in her mouth after throwing up, but you also know she needs a good rinse. She only gives in after you demonstrate what you want of her by brushing your teeth and gargling some water. However, the condition is that you have to brush her teeth for her while she squeezes Scooby for dear life. 

Once her mouth is clean and the only sign she was ever sick is her puffy red eyes, you scoop up your baby and bring her out to the living room. 

“How does your tummy feel now?” you ask as you set her on the couch and begin to cocoon her in the throw blanket you keep there. 

Minnie rests her head on top of Scooby’s, lip jutting out into a pout, “Icky. And Hurty.”

“Icky and hurty?” You sympathize. You know well the aftermath of throwing up and how sometimes the aftermath is worse than the event - your stomach often turns sour and you feel drained. You know certain fluids will help relieve this, so you kiss Mouse’s forehead and tell her, “Let me see if we have any things to help.”

“Blue Pedi-lyte?” she asks and you can’t help but smile over how observant and smart your little one is. She may not have thrown up in recent memory - but other digestive problems have occurred, and she clearly remembers enough that the drink helped. 

“Yeah. Let me go see if we have any, okay? Do you want to put on some Mickey?”

“Goofy,” is her quick, but mumbled reply. 

You turn on the television and bring up some Goofy related shorts, then head to the kitchen, hoping you have some old Pedialyte. 

But you don’t. 

You have leftover drinks Karen brought you and the only thing that is comparable to what you promised Minnie is yellow Gatorade. However, you have nothing to turn it blue. You have the feeling that trying to give it to your little one is not going to go well, but you try, nonetheless. You fill a sippy cup halfway with yellow liquid and mentally cross yourself as you bring it to Mouse on the couch.

She takes one look at it before pouting at you, “That’s yellow.”

“I know, sweetie. But we don’t have any blue Pedialyte. We only have yellow Gatorade. It will help your tummy, too.”

To her credit, she takes it and holds it in her lap, looking down at it with disdain. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then wrinkles up her nose and holds the cup back up to you, “It’s stinky.”

You try to not sigh - lemon-lime is an intense flavor and probably won’t taste the best after vomiting, but it is all you have. You crouch down so you are eye level with your daughter and rub her leg, trying to be encouraging, “I know, but it will help your tummy. Can you try for me?”

She looks between you and the cup about fifteen times, her little eyes full of doubt, before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a sip. She does not swallow - instead she looks disgusted before opening her mouth and letting the drink spill down her chin.

“Oh, no, no, let’s not do that,” you groan. You use your t-shirt - which is luckily your cleaning shirt and gross anyways - to wipe her face and soak up the yellow liquid. 

“Icky,” Mouse informs you, then adds, “I want blue Pedi-lyte. Please?”

You take in your daughter, looking so tiny wrapped up on the couch. How awful it must be to not only be nauseous, but to be so with enhanced senses. You’ve thrown up enough times to know what an unpleasant aftertaste it leaves, so she must be so miserable.

You rub your hands over your face and give in, “Okay, let Mommy go change into real people clothes, and we will go get some for you.”

----

You are no stranger to midnight runs to the bodega two blocks west. You had moved into your current apartment when you were about six months pregnant, and you had spent month seven waddling your way there almost every night for a slice of cake.  The late-night cashier, Sal, practically watched Minnie grow up and he is one of the few people who she will talk to unprompted.  So, you don’t feel embarrassed when you stroll in wearing sweatpants and a band-tank top, with Minnie still in her jammies - Sal has seen you in worse states and at least you aren’t wearing a robe and slippers. 

There’s a couple of college aged boys lingering around the snacks section who smell heavily of marijuana, and they seem more interested in talking about what chips to get than anything, so only your hyper paranoid mind makes you take notice as you make your way to the drink coolers. You pass all the fun things and go to the very back corner of the storefront where the small selection of medicinal goods are. 

Tampons, Tylenol, and band aids are stacked low on the dry goods shelf, and across from them, practically on the floor of the cooler, is one row of Pedialyte. The gods must be smiling on you because it is indeed the blue flavor your daughter is desiring. 

You open the cooler, and with Minnie on your hip, squat down to retrieve your prize. Almost instantly, she starts making grabby hands for it, asking with a bit of a whine, “Mommy, open it.”

“We have to pay for it first, then you can drink it,” you remind her, feeling guilty as you do. You can see the upset in her eyes, and to try and mitigate the damage, you offer, “Do you want to help buy it?”

Mouse, always the eager helper, nods against you, so you hand over the drink, stand, and start making your way to the counter. The stoned boys are debating which chips will leave the least amount of residue on their gaming controllers as you pass them and part of you wants to stop and listen. You don’t have an interest in video games beyond silly ones on your phone, but their passion is intense, and you agree Cheeto dust is one of the worst things in the world. You are lucky Minnie finds them gross and much prefers pretzels as her chip of choice.

As you come up to the checkout, Sal looks up from his phone and gives you a pleasant smile, “Late night snack run?” 

Minnie pipes up before you can, leaning forward as far as she can to hold out the bottle towards him, “I wanna buy this, please, thank you.”

Sal, ever kind, reaches across the counter to get it so you don’t have to try to lean in, “Ahhh, no snacks. Tummy troubles?”

“Tummy troubles,” you confirm. You dig into your purse for your wallet as he begins to ring you up.

Sal clicks his tongue in sympathy, before telling you, “My daughter, Sasha, the tall one, she always had the tummy troubles, too. Turns out, she was allergic to corn. Do you know how much corn is in everything in America?”

You make a face at that because you do, in fact, know how much corn is in everything. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

In your arms, always wanting to mimic you, Minnie gives a solemn nod to Sal, “Sorry to hear.”

Sal laughs warmly, “You are kind. I hope your tummy troubles are not from corn, but too many sweets.” 

That makes Mouse giggle, which warms your heart. When you are told the total, you hand her your card to hand over to Sal. The sweet man swipes it, then addresses Minnie, “Debit or credit?”

Despite not knowing what that means, she instantly replies with, “Credit!” making you smile all the more. 

“Yes, we will charge it,” he says. The receipt prints and he hands that and the card back to you before bagging the Pedialyte in a little black baggie and handing that to Minnie. “Your purchase, little ma’am.” 

“Thank you!” she chimes, and you thank Sal as well. The college boys have finally decided on their snack, so you vacate the counter so they can make their purchase, wishing the cashier a good rest of his night. 

As you exit the bodega, Minnie bonks your arm with the bagged bottle, “Mommy, open it now. We buyed it.” 

“Okay, okay.”

You set her down on the ground, then get the bottle out so you can crack it open. You help your little one take a few careful sips and once she is done, she smacks her lips. 

“Not icky?” You ask and she gives a big nod in response. 

“Not icky.”

“How is your tummy?”

Her fist goes right into her mouth as she thinks over the question. You use the time to recap the drink and drop it back into the bag, then put that into your purse. 

“It feels like jumping dinosaurs,” Mouse finally tells you, “Going ‘bah bah bah’. Like sheepies.”

You have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but you guess that she feels better. She seems more chipper, which isn’t what you need closing in on midnight. If you don’t get home soon and get her back into bed, you are going to have a very grumpy toddler in the morning. 

Which will go great with your expected grumpiness - you still have to finish cleaning the bathroom and who knows how long that is going to take. You’ll need to redo the toilet and throw a load of laundry into the wash. You’ll probably get to bed around two if you are lucky.

So, with the complete intention of tiring your daughter out, you ask her, “Do you want to walk back home holding Mommy’s hand?”

Which completely does the trick and Minnie takes your hand so you can walk back home together, and you begin heading that way. 

Despite being the city that never sleeps, the streets around you are pretty empty. You haven’t come across any other foot traffic and you’ve only seen a few cars roll by, so to you, it seems like a quiet night.

You wonder if that is how Minnie sees it - or in her case - hears it. 

It has been mind boggling learning her range of hearing and how much input she must constantly receive.

Matt is still working on making you his binder - Karen has apparently taken to copy editing it - but he has given you a preview of a few pages and you can barely comprehend it. You think you would go insane if you could hear everyone talking all at once, all the time. Your anxiety would be astronomical, but your sweet Mouse doesn’t seem bothered in day-to-day life.

You’ve been watching her play more and more and you’ve been learning what catches her attention and interests. To your surprise, it has been music. The little wiggles and shakes she sometimes does is apparently her interpretation of dancing and you have been making her a little playlist for her birthday. You think a dance party would be a fun thing to do the night before the zoo trip, to help get out all her energy. You haven’t told her this yet, but you did ask her to let you know when she hears a song she wants to dance to, so you can look into it. 

You don’t want to add anything inappropriate after all. 

You look down at your daughter as you walk, a little smile coming to your face. She’s watching her feet, and it looks like she’s trying to step on her own shadow without making a big deal of it. You’ve seen her do that before or try to walk one foot in front of the other. You aren’t the fastest walker - you tend to stroll - so you never worry about her games slowing you down. 

Plus, if it wears her out, all the better for you. 

You are about half a block away from your building when Minnie suddenly halts and whirls her head back towards the bodega. Curious, you stop as well, wondering what she has heard now. 

“What is it, sweetie?” 

“There’s a hoot-hoot!” She whisper-yells, looking up to you with the biggest, purest smile. 

Your heart practically bursts from your chest with love and your smile grows to match hers, “A hoot-hoot? Can you tell me about the hoot-hoot?”

She nods, then you watch in slow motion as your daughter’s absolute joy morphs into that of horror and before you can even process what is happening, something is ripping you away from Minnie by the base of your neck. 

You are pivoted left and slammed face first into the brownstone staircase you were just walking by. Your vision goes spotty as pain erupts from the center of your forehead - confusion and panic begin to consume you. 

All you can hear is your daughter screaming in fear.

You have no idea what is going on, but all you know is Minnie needs you, and that ignites something deep and primal in your chest.

There is something grabbing and pulling at your top and your purse - which you wear crossbody - and you realize someone is trying to mug you. Fear fills you as you struggle to get away, break free, but whoever it is is stronger than you and keeps slamming you back against the stone.

“Mommy!”

The thing inside your chest bursts to life when you hear Minnie cry for you and you kick backwards best you can, trying to dislodge your attacker. Your foot catches their knee and both of you go tumbling to the ground. You hit the cement hard only to be crushed under the weight of your assailant as they land on top of you. 

You refuse to stay still, squirming and trying to army crawl out from under the mugger, but they easily overpower you. Hands wrap around your throat from behind and you are temporarily overwhelmed by the stench of body odor and filth. You are pressed down into the sidewalk for a split second before being yanked back and you just barely manage to turn your face as you are violently forced back down again. Gravel and glass tear at your cheek. 

Something tangles itself into your hair and your head is once again being pulled back, but you won’t give up. You reach back over your head and grab onto the arm of the person attacking you. You feel flesh, so you curl your fingers and dig your nails in the best you can. 

There is a feral, pained yowl, then your head meets the ground again, but it doesn’t stop. They are trying to push you down into the sidewalk using all their weight, like they are trying to crush your skull.

You kick and buck as hard as you are able to, thrashing desperately in an attempt to break away. The pain is quickly becoming all encompassing, but Minnie is crying, and you need to get to her.

You try to get an arm under you, to try and help to push you up, but there is so much weight and all of it is centered on your upper back and skull.

You can’t get up. 

You can’t get to Minnie. 

You can’t save your daughter.

There is a deep and furious roar, then the crushing weight of your attacker is ripped off of you.  

You gasp for breath as you quickly roll onto your side, terrified you're going to be pushed back into the dirt and smothered. Your vision is swimming, blurry and half black, and everything, everything hurts. 

“DADDY!” 

Your eyes snap open and you try to push yourself up onto shaky arms. You try to turn around to find your daughter, but your body doesn’t want to obey anymore, and you collapse back onto the ground. You force your legs to move the best you can, trying to roll until you can find your daughter. 

“Minnie..” you try to call out but you aren’t sure if any noise escapes your lips.

“Mommy!”

The darkness wraps itself around you and begins to drag you down into its depths. The last thing your mind catches before it switches off is your little Mouse, screaming for you.

“MOMMY!”

“MOMMY!!”

---

:3C

---

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@

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@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

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@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

[harryslittlefreakk]

kiss it better

summary: when y/n doesn’t show up to work, harry takes her care into his own hands. ceorry x PA y/n

warnings: mentions of illness and vomiting! just plain fluff other than that

wordcount: a little over 2k

a/n: in honour of me being gravely ill 😀 this is probably not very good lol whatevs!!!! i wanted to write and fluff was calling my name

masterlist

Harry glanced at his watch, frowning as he realised something was off. You were always punctual, always greeting him with a smile and a steaming cup of coffee before he even stepped into his office. But there was no sign of you. His desk was a little too tidy in the absence of your swirling handwriting on sticky notes and files. It smelled musky without the sweet coconut of your perfume to counter the dominance of his aftershave.

He set his briefcase down, pulling out his phone to dial your number. He knew he shouldn’t call you, that whatever kept you from work was obviously important, but he needed to know. The phone rang into Harry’s ear a few times before going to voicemail, his brows knitting as he left his office in search of an explanation for your absence.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out, an email pinging through to his phone almost as soon as he opened his mouth to ask where you were.

Without thinking twice, Harry grabbed his coat and headed for the door, his heart thudding with concern, for reasons that he couldn’t quite place. You never missed work. You were always so reliable, pushing yourself even when you shouldn’t, even when Harry told you not to. If he was in the office, you were too, always leaving later than him and getting in earlier.

He stopped by a small deli as he left the office, ringing his mum in the middle of the fresh produce aisle to get her family-favourite soup recipe. Some fresh bread, vegetables, milk and teabags, medicines and ginger shots.

Harry was carried by some sort of unseen force, a desire to be the hero for a day. It wasn’t until he reached your building’s main entrance that he thought to question what he was doing.

He hadn’t even told anyone he was leaving - his briefcase was still sat on his chair, his work untouched. He was skipping on his own company to show up at your door laden with supplies like he was close enough to you to be your caretaker. He shook his head gently, his out-stretched finger reaching for your buzzer before he even made his mind up on whether to stay or go.

He was at your front door a few minutes later, the groceries hanging limply in his hand as he took in your appearance, his features softening as his eyes trailed over your face. Your usually bright skin was dull and pale, your brown eyes outlined by reds and purples, the tip of your nose tinted pink, your lips dry and cracked.

“Harry? What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice thick and hoarse.

You pulled your cardigan tighter around your waist, wishing the building would just collapse around you, a stray meteor would strike you down, anything to not be standing in front of your boss in your skimpy pyjamas while he looked at you like you were a wounded puppy.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

You shrugged, stepping back into your door as Harry moved towards you. “I didn’t want to bother you. It’s just a cold.”

“Bother me?” He shook his head, stepping around you and pulling the door closed behind him. “You’re never a bother, y/n. I was worried.”

Before you could protest, he was already moving into your small kitchen, setting the groceries on the counter. “I bought supplies. Have you had any medicine? You go sit down and I’ll bring you some over. Tea, coffee, water?”

You looked around in a daze, your gaze flitting between the front door and Harry as your brain struggled to catch up. Medicine, supplies, tea, sick, worried. His words were buzzing around your clouded mind, your brows knitted as you stepped towards him.

“Harry, you don’t have to-” you started, but he shot you a pointed look over his shoulder. You knew that face all too well. It was the ‘I’m in charge here, and we both know it’ look that you’d seen him giving to clients and staff countless times over the past year, usually followed by a smirk in your direction.

“Sit. That’s an order,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I’ll take care of everything.”

You sighed but obeyed, shuffling over to the sofa and sinking into the cushions. You knew better than to argue, especially with the way your body was aching after only walking to the door and back.

“I’ve had medicine already,” you told Harry, nodding your head towards the packet on the coffee table. He padded over, reaching for the pills with a satisfied smile.

“Good girl. Where are your mugs?”

Good girl. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek, knowing instantly that you were burning up and it had nothing to do with the flu.

“Top cupboard on the left,” you muttered, your voice tiny as Harry stared down at you.

You’d found yourself in a dangerous game. It was hard enough to control yourself around Harry in the office with your wits about you, but with him in your home, apparently intent on taking care of you, calling you a good girl, you were almost ready to plan the wedding.

“Oh no.”

A sudden wave of nausea washed over you, your eyes glued to the floor as you scrambled to your feet, rushing past Harry as if he wouldn’t notice if you went fast enough. You barely made it to the toilet before the nausea overwhelmed you, your body heaving.

Within seconds, Harry was behind you. He knelt down, one hand gently pulling your hair back from your face while the other rubbed over your shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he murmured softly.

Now you really wished someone would smite you down. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, both from the force of being sick and the embarrassment of having Harry see you like this. You tried to apologise, but another wave hit, cutting you off.

“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his hand never stopping its gentle motion on your back.

You slumped back against the wall, exhausted. Harry stood up to wet your flannel, crouching in front of you to dab at your forehead and cheeks, his touch tender and careful, as if you might break.

The ridiculousness of it all almost made you laugh. There he was, in his thousand pound suit, his curls perfectly styled, wiping the sick from your face as you poured like a child in your Barbie pyjamas. And it was only 11am. There was plenty of time for things to get even worse for you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and weak. “That was mortifying.”

“Hey, none of that,” Harry said firmly, but his eyes were soft as he studied your face. “You’ve taken care of every one of my needs for a year. You’re sick, I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled you to your feet, keeping a tight hold of your hand as he guided you back to the sofa, fluffing your cushions before you sank down.

You closed your eyes, your body aching with fatigue and the lingering embarrassment of being so messy and vulnerable in front of your boss.

As if he could read your mind, Harry sat down beside you, his arm wrapping tightly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “I’ve got you,” he murmured again, his voice ghosting over the top of your head. “Just rest. I’m not leaving.”

You let out a shuddering breath, the warmth of his body against yours easing some of the lingering chills. Slowly, the tension began to drain away, the exhaustion tugging at you. You turned slightly, pressing your face into his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

He shifted, carefully adjusting his position so you could lie more comfortably against him. His fingers stroked through your hair, chills shooting straight down your spine.

“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m right here.”

When you didn’t respond, Harry stayed still, holding you close, his heart aching at how fragile you suddenly seemed to him. He would keep you safe, he promised to himself.

—

You were still glued to Harry’s side when you woke, although he’d clearly been busy while you were out cold.

His blazer was slung over a chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up as they always were after a few hours of work. His arm was still tight around you, his free hand dancing across the keyboard of his laptop as he stared and muttered at the screen.

Your lips curled into a little smile with the realisation that he’d been up and about while you slept but had still come back to cuddle you. Your hand instinctively flew to your mouth, covering your smirk before Harry noticed just how happy you were to wake up at his side.

His eyes snapped over to you, his eyes crinkling as his mouth stretched into a grin. “Morning, sunshine,” he teased, setting his laptop to the side.

A gasp fell from your lips as you looked beyond him for the first time since you opened your eyes, realising how little light was left. “It’s nearly dark, Harry. How long was I out?”

“A while,” he shrugged. “It’s a good thing. Your body heals while you sleep.”

You pulled away from him to sit up straight, suddenly conscious of the wet patch on his shirt, his tattoos stark against the translucent fabric. “I kept you hostage here for hours while I drooled all over you.”

“I’ll forward you my dry cleaning bill,” he smirked, peering down at the mark. “I don’t mind, really. I had Tony bring my bits over,” Harry shrugged, nodding towards his laptop. “I got quite a lot done. Maybe we should work from home more often.”

“I won’t be making a habit of chucking my guts up in front of you and drooling all over you,” you whispered, your cheeks blazing hot.

“Glad to hear it, sweetheart. How are you feeling? Do you fancy eating?”

You nodded, running a hand through your wild hair. You didn’t even want to imagine what you looked like. It was becoming increasingly more apparent that you’d have to change your name and flee the country the second Harry left you alone.

But as he padded away from you, you listened to him bustling around your kitchen, the familiar clink of plates and cutlery, it felt all too comforting and all too normal.

Harry came back with a tray, a steaming bowl of soup, some toast, and a cup of tea balanced on top, a tea towel thrown over his arm. He set it down carefully on the coffee table, then sat beside you, watching as you guided a spoonful of soup past your lips.

“This is really good,” you murmured, surprised at how the warmth seemed to spread through you, easing the ache in her throat.

“Glad you like it,” he said, looking pleased. “My mums recipe. I’m half convinced your head could fall off and that soup would manage to cure it.”

You managed to eat most of the soup, under Harry’s watchful gaze. When you finished, he cleaned up quickly, then returned with a fresh cup of tea for you both and a blanket.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said softly as he draped the blanket over you.

He gave you a gentle smile, pulling your legs onto his lap. “I wanted to. You take care of me. Let me take care of you for once.”

The energy shifted in the room, the atmosphere clouded with something unspoken. You rubbed a finger over your lips, your gaze lingering on Harry as he traced patterns over your skin.

He glanced over at his laptop, pushing the screen closed. “Alright, I think we’ve earned a movie,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “What’s your favourite?”

You shrugged, turning your attention to the tv. “I always watch Harry Potter when I’m sick.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Barbie pyjamas and Harry Potter. Maybe I don’t know everything about you.”

“Simple pleasures,” you shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

As the movie played, the sky gradually darkened, the light from the screen casting soft shadows across the room. You’d pulled your legs from Harry’s lap at some point, sinking into the sofa beside him as you sipped at your tea. He kept his eyes on you as you put the mug back down, then without a word, he gently wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.

You hesitated for a moment before relaxing against him, your head resting on his shoulder. It felt more natural earlier, when you were still dazed and cloudy and overwhelmed with embarrassment. It still felt right, comforting and familiar, but you were so much more aware of your proximity now. Still, when Harry’s hand began to rub slow, soothing circles on your arm, you melted into him.

You glanced up at him after a minute, catching his profile in the flickering light. His eyes were focused on the screen, but there was a softness to his expression, a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

He must have sensed your gaze, because he looked down at you, his eyes locking with yours. For just a moment, the movie, the room, the soft pounding of your head all faded away.

Harry’s hand stilled on your arm, his fingers lingering as if unsure of what they wanted to do next. Then, slowly, he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your flushed skin.

“Y/n..” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. There was something in his eyes, something vulnerable and almost hesitant, as if he were seeking permission.

Your breath caught, your heart quickening. You pushed your head against his touch, just the slightest movement, your eyes never leaving his.

That was all the encouragement Harry needed. Leaning in slowly, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss so soft and gentle it was almost like the ghost of a breath against your skin. His hand moved to cradle the back of your head, his touch careful, still so gentle as if he was scared he’d break you.

But his kisses were sweet, unhurried, and full of something you couldn’t put into words. He kissed you like he was savouring every moment, like he thought it might be the only time he’d ever feel your lips against his. You felt your whole body surrender to him, enveloped in the warmth and care of his touch.

“You’re going to get sick,” you whispered when he pulled back, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip.

He leaned in again, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, then one to your temple, his arms tightening around you as you buried your head in his chest. “I think I’ve spent enough time in your company to end up catching your germs anyway. At least I got to do that,” Harry murmured, smoothing a hand over your hair.

You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the movie forgotten. The world outside didn’t matter, the weight of how shitty you felt didn’t matter, the impending infection you’d passed to Harry didn’t matter. In the quiet shadows of the evening, you snuggled closer, feeling his heart beat steadily against you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly content.

“Stay with me?” you murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Of course,” he promised, his lips brushing over your hair.

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever @stylesbrock @harry-nialllover @triski73 @meetmeintheemeraldpool @harryshousewitnessprotection @danaehldy @fairytale07 @storyschanging @wannaliveinparadise @mrs-anna-styles211994 @mema10 @fangirl509east @devilsqueen722

[darkestspring]

Lucerys twin being Jaces sweet little sex toy. Hes so protective of her but ruins her on the best way, groaning and moaning as he thrust into her, legs thrown over his shoulder as he plows into her. Moaning how is sweet baby sister takes his cock so well.

From the moment you had been born, Rhaenyra’s little baby girl, Jace had been told by his mother and father that you would be his wife one day.

So, he did what he thought best. He protected you fiercely. He defended you even if it meant he had to come to blows. And when you became interested in someone, he destroys the image you held of them.

You were going to be his wife, he would never allow anyone else to taint you. You, who saw the best even in Aegon and Aemond. You were too sweet to hold grudges.

As you got older, his possessiveness and overprotectiveness only increased. He was at a loss for what to do to make you aware of his feelings. Did you know that he was going to be your husband? Or maybe it was just him his mother told, to impress upon him the duty of caring for you, to cement his place next to you.

Maybe it was simply advice he needed.

....Which is what led to this.

Jace couldn't stop his awe of you as his hands gripped at your hips as your arms wrapped around him. "Oh, Jace." You whimpered, red tinting your cheeks as your hazy eyes gazed up at him.

"Fuck, if you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to stop myself." Jace growled, his heart thrumming even harder.

He had always adored you but he couldn't help but adore you even more like this.

"Please. Please." You didn't know what you were asking for as you clung to him even more, honey slipping from you like it was nothing.

Jace hissed as you tightened around him suddenly. "Don't worry, I won't." He promised fervently as his hips knocked against yours in succession as your moans grew louder. "Yeah, you take my cock so well, like you were made for it, sweet thing."

Your purple eyes, hazy and filled with tears gazed up at him. "Inside, inside, please I want it!" You wailed, nails digging into his back and raking down, leaving angry red lines, no doubt.

Jace would never deny you of anything you wanted. Ever.

[gghostwriter]

Hi, how are you? I really love your works so I was wondering if i could write a request. Something like reader shows spencer appreciation? That pretty boy needs some sweet loving with all his trauma ngl. Thank you!

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff just fluff! w.c: 0.5k A/N: slowly defrosting from my creative block, yay. also Anon, so sorry this is short hope you still like it! Main masterlist

Cherished. // Spencer Reid

Spencer’s eidetic memory (and his genius IQ) was what made him, well, Spencer. It was his given talent that allowed him to graduate high school at the tender age of 12, accumulate 3 PhDs, and join the ranks of the well renowned and decorated Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI as their boy genius. 

It was also that same skill that made him a perfect boyfriend, according to you. He never missed a date, a birthday, or an anniversary—not if he could help it. So imagine his surprise when he arrived home at his shared apartment, early into the night for once, and sees you all dressed up in a pretty purple dress minus the heels, lips shining from gloss, and the table prepared for dinner for two.

“Love, did I forget something?” He rapidly racks his brain for any promised event and comes up blank.

You giggle, stretching up to give him a kiss. “Yes, you silly. Don’t you know what day it is today?” 

“It’s not your birthday, I’m sure. It’s also not our anniversary,” he rakes his hand through his hair, brows furrowing. “Can I get a hint?” 

“Well, it’s your 2nd year of being sober!” You exclaimed and turned to gesture at the laid out candle-lit dinner. “I wanted to celebrate all your progress and hard work.” 

His mouth dropped slightly open, dazed.

The silence made you second guess yourself. “Is it—are you okay, Spence?”

“I—I am. Wow, just—this is amazing, Y/N. No one’s ever done something like this for me—” he pulls you in for a hug, tucking you tight underneath his chin. “—I love it. I love you.” 

“I love you too. You deserve it, pretty boy. Plus, I’ll take any excuse to cook you a home-made meal,” you stated as you reluctantly left his warm embrace. “Now, let’s eat. I got us some non-alcoholic wine to match the pasta.” 

He watched you flit around the kitchen to grab the bottle and promptly helped you to your seat like the gentleman that you well knew and cherished. Your care and actions made him feel seen as if you saw beyond the scholastic degrees he used as his shield and through his credentials as an FBI agent—and you did see right through it all. You saw him just as Spencer Reid, the person who fights his inner demons every day and chooses the good in everything. 

His feelings felt overwhelming and out pouring inside of him. He leaned over and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, tasting your cherry tint as he did—his favorite.

“I love you.” He whispered, honey coating each word and adoration reflecting in his hazel eyes. “Thank you for choosing me.”

You returned the kiss, marking his cheek red with your gloss. “I love you too, Spencer. I wouldn’t choose anyone else but you.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[endless-ineffabilities]

of perilous desire

chapter one - se mōris (the end)

vampire!Aemond x f!reader (modern AU)

story synopsis: the reader works the night shift as a receptionist at the local hospital. Someone comes in one night to drop off a patient, and she subsequently suspects that this person is pursuing her. Why is there no real trace of him anywhere? Why does she see him in her dreams? Here begins a craving that may be never be satiated, a desire so perilous it might cost her everything...

word count: <1k ▪︎ masterlist

The night is young.

You've just made your third trip to the personnel break room, filling up on a much-needed caffeine fix, slumping back in your swivel chair in a bored huff.

It's 3 in the morning, which means you have four more hours to go. Oh joy.

Working in the hospital is decent enough; it pays the bills, it keeps you from being unemployed. But it feels like it's supposed to be a transitioning - a jumping off point into bigger and better things. When you were a child, your dream certainly was not to be a night receptionist at a hospital. But it's been a year, and you are still here for some reason.

Were you stuck? Perhaps you have grown complacent? You're meant to be doing something else, something worthwhile, and you know this. Granted, you do help people to some extent, but nurses and doctors are the true heroes.

Anyone with a semi-decent high school education can do your job.

The coffee is stale, and it suspiciously tastes of the antiseptic that is always in the air. You drink it anyway, grimacing with every sip.

The tap tap tapping of your pen against the desk distracts you, and it must have kept you from noticing the new arrival.

"Excuse me."

You snap up, half in a daze, the coffee doing nothing for your alertness.

And you see him. Clad in all black - leather overcoat, leather shoes, well-pressed trousers. Long white-blonde hair flowing smoothly down his back, neatly kept away from his face. One eye a blazing purple, the other a ghostly white. He looked like something out of the gothic romance novels you used to read in middle school.

Unusual. Poised. Beautiful.

You have to swallow hard in order to find the strength to speak."How... how can I help you, sir?"

"My... friend," he says, coolly maintaining eye contact that it's almost unnerving. Or maybe it's the effect he has on people, looking the way he does. "She needs some assistance."

"Oh," you stand up, looking behind him and seeing the woman slumped on the bench in the waiting area. Leaning against one arm, with her black hair partially obscuring her face. She blinks as if in a stupor when the man glances at her, smiling goofily despite her state. "Is she alright?" you ask him, and he doesn't answer, only continuing to stare at you. You press on the paging system, calling on a nurse to come her aid.

You come over and crouch down in front of her. "What's happened? Can you tell me your name?"

She giggles wildly, like you just cracked the funniest joke. "My name is Alys," she says. "At least I think so." You notice her pallid complexion, her lips taking on a bluish tint. She appears to be awake but not truly aware of her surroundings.

The nurse on duty is taking a while, so you turn back to the man. "What happened to her? Does she have a concussion? Are you her husband or a relative?"

Seconds pass. You look at him expectantly, but he gives you nothing. He tilts his head at you, eyes narrowing, like a predator sizing up his prey.

"Hmm," he finally makes a sound, though it isn't really a response.

Growing impatient, you stride behind your desk and recover the necessary forms. "I'm going to need you to fill these - "

When you turn to address him, he's gone.

One of the nurses, Patrick, arrives to assist the woman called Alys.

He goes through the motions, flashing a penlight in her eyes, checking her pulse, asking her simple questions to keep her conscious.

"She came in alone?" he asks you, as he waves another nurse to come help.

"No," you shake your head, "her companion was just here. A man - "

"What man? Did he run away or something?"

Did he? He had seemingly vanished in a split second, and you were sure you didn't hear him rushing out the front doors. You didn't hear anything at all.

"I don't know," you shrug, confused. "He didn't even fill in a form or anything."

The nurses manage to situate Alys in a wheelchair, the dark-haired woman still smiling and mumbling to herself. Just as they wheel her away, you hear her soft voice crooning, "Ae-mond, oh, my Aemond!"

"Well, shit," you mutter, the momentary commotion had come and gone. The coffee still sits on your desk, now cold. The air still smelled of sickening sterility.

You were still, as dramatic as it sounds, lost and adrift. You snort to yourself. What a thought.

If only you could have your head in the clouds, all blissed out, like the Alys woman. Though her state was likely brought on by hard drugs.

Or was it him?

Everything is the same. Except that the stranger has become ingrained your mind.

Who was he?

An hour later, you stand outside in the portico, cigarette balanced between your fingers. It's a nasty habit, sure, but people would probably be shocked at how common it is among the hospital staff. The nurses, even.

You're supposed to feel terrible about it, working at an establishment that champions health, but you justify it in that you're just a receptionist. Weren't the medical professionals the real hypocrites? How else will you keep awake?

The smoke billows out of your lips. You watch their shapes dissipating in the cold morning air, entranced.

Suddenly, you sense something shuffle from the corner of your eye. Shivers erupt all over your arms, your mind immediately grasping at the worst possible scenario.

"Hello?" This is how the side characters die in horror movies, quickly and unceremoniously, forgotten before the main act actually begins. Your shaking hand squashes the cigarette down on the wall-mounted ashtray.

It was probably nothing, likely one of the stray kittens running around. Despite that, you determinedly walk back to the entrance, fists bunched in your pockets.

Then there's something again. A gust of wind. A flash of pale blonde hair. A feeling like you're being watched.

Is the entrance so far? You're going to get kidnapped, you're sure of it.

The doors are in sight, those lifeless glass windows within reach, when you're spun around swiftly that you don't have time to think of anything at all.

You're floating, your feet had left the ground.

Pushed into something smooth, cocooned around your paralysed form. Leather.

He hushes you, brushing his lips against your cheek, featherlike, careful not to make full contact. You want to fight, you should fight, but you can't.

Something coaxes you into accepting this, so you do.

The painful prick against your neck is momentary. Followed by complete and utter bliss.

Your final thought is the word Alys was singing so sweetly. That strange name, which now exits your lips like a prayer.

"Aemond."

taglist*: @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @sprinklesprinkle888 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @angel6776 @different-tale-student @world-of-bitchcraft @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid--person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa

*refer here to be tagged in hotd works; comment below to be tagged in only this fic.

a/n: me 🤝 running with new ideas before even finishing my ongoing series works!!! I've always wanted to do a vampire Aemond fic. Call this a tester/taster (literally, in Aemond's case). Let me know what yous think, and we'll see how it goes!

[nelissecrectplace]

Refuge

previous | part 3

word count: 3.7k

language: Tsahík- spiritual leader, Muntxate- mate / wife

description: To say you were happy about new arrangements would definitely be an understatement, yet somehow people’s word still struck you to your core. Little did you know a certain na’vi would put those too rest with three simple words. Fluff fluff and fluff.

“I seek the family’s approval too court Y/n”

Head shooting up you could hardly believe the words that had left his lips. Eyes wide you looked too Ao’nung searching for any hint of deception. Heart racing in your chest your shocked features soon twisted into confusion. “Why?” Although your voice was low it seemed too echo through out the mauri. The deafening silence flooding back in once your words had faded. Gaze moving from your father too you his eyes seemed too soften. Your body stiff and hands clasped together in your lap as you tucked your pinkie in. A habit he had seemed too have created. Ears tinting slightly purple the male looked around. It seemed all eyes were on him, waiting for an answer. “I am showing my intentions.” Taking a pause Ao’nung seemed to be searching for his words. Ronal holding a proud smile as her son spoke.

“I wish to make you my Tsahík. No other woman has made me feel this way, and I do not wish for you too slip from my grasp.” Feeling flustered at the peering eyes Ao’nung ripped his eyes away from you. Now facing your parents. “I will treat her better than any other sutor could. The gifts in the corner are all for Y/n and her family.” Feeling the weight of the situation the Nerves began too set in for Ao’nung. His tail swaying with anxiousness. All of your family’s eyes seemed too turn towards you as they studied you for answer. You could not seem too meet their eyes as you could not tear your eyes from Ao’nung. Hand covering your mouth a dark hue washed over your cheeks. You did not even hear the second part as his words repeated in your head like a broken disc. He wish too make you his Tsahík. You are the first na’vi he had ever wanted too make his.

Stifling a laugh at your expression Lo’ak was the first too voice his opinion. “I accept, I know her better than anyone, and my sister seems overjoyed.” Shyly looking too your brother he met your gaze with a close lipped smile. You could not contain the way your tail whipped with excitement at his approval. “I knew this was coming so I’m with Lo’ak.” Kiri voiced her opinion, shrugging her shoulders as if she was not stunned only a minute ago. “I am fine with it, hopefully there is no mal-intent.” Your eldest brother locked eyes with the na’vi. His yellow orbs staring daggers into Ao’nung soul with an unspoken threat. Eyes just as heavy Ao’nung looked at Neteyam. An underlying offense in his expression. “I do not have any mal-intent.”

“We’ll I think that settles it. Me and my wife also approve. I believe her siblings judgement is strong.” Processing jakes words a smile slowly made its way too Ao’nungs face . Oceans eyes immediately finding you. You felt your heart leap at this action a shy smile making its way onto your lips. Although your future had been decided for you, you did not feel any resentment. If anything your felt an overwhelming sense of love and acceptance as the dinner commenced. You could not seem to maintain eye contact with your future mate without your face heating up. Overwhelmed with the feelings you had tried so hard too suppress, the feeling you never thought would be returned. It seemed that the dinner had ended too soon your family soon leaving the mauri. Ao’nung eyes did not seem to leave your body as you stood, bidding his sister goodbye.

Seeing him walk over you felt your heart leap. Meeting his eyes you felt as if you could burst with joy. “Goodnight y/n” Tucking your one stray braid behind your ear his ocean eyes bore into yours. Brining your hand up too his you navigated it too your cheek slightly nuzzling into his touch. “Goodnight Ma Aonung.” Face flushing the male looked at you his pupils dilating. Eyes scanning your features he had no doubt in his mind he had made the right choice. Ao’nung was sure he had his future in his hands.

The next morning the you were awoken by the bustle of your home. lazily bring your body up you squinted your eyes attempting too adapt too the sunlight. Dazed and confused you struggled too set dream from reality. The memories of last night flooding in seeming as if they were a fantasy. “Y/n if you don’t want this can I have it?” Groggily blinking you processed Tuks words. Eyes traveling too the item in her hand you couldn’t help but let out a slight gasp. “Oh my Eywa.” Taking the bracelet out of Tuks hands you rushed over too the growing pile of materials in your family’s Mauri. Paying no mine too Tuks noises of disapproval you were too wrapped up in your own head. Mouth agape you scanned the amount of offerings brought too your mauri as the reality set in. A giggle erupted from your throat as you could help but embrace your youngest sister, spinning the twelve year old in the air. “I am being courted by Ao’nung!!” Shrill laugher filling the air the mauri was soon full of joy as Tuk mirrored your excitement, not quite sure why you were so hype, but she did not care.

“Looks like we made the right choice.” Body spinning too the entrance your eyes landed apon your father and brothers. The two younger ones carrying the remainder of the gifts as they entered. Placing Tuk down you threw your body into your fathers arms. A heart filled laughed rumbled through your fathers chest as he now spun you around. “Thank you daddy!” Wrapping your arm around your father he happily returned your hug. “Anything too make you happy baby girl.” A small smile made its way onto Jakes lips as he hugged you. Pride filling him with the fact that he had made you happy, that he had made the right choice.

“Not too be a vibe killer but sis…. you do know Ao’nung saw all that.” The humor in Neteyams voice was evident as Lo’aks giggles were already spilling past his lips. Pulling yourself away from your father you peer over his shoulder and sure enough the na’vi was there. A smug smirk placed apon his lips as he handed your father the items in his hands. “Morning y/n.” Hands clasping together you turn your gaze too the floor. The embarrassment of what he had witnessed slowly settling in. “Good morning” Almost muttering it you shifted your body weight from side too side.

“You kids get out of here ronal is expecting you.” Interrupting the awkward exchange your father ushered you out. Face heating up you took your place beside Ao’nung. Your heart seeming to rest at his usually pace around him as it beat against your chest rapidly. “I’ll walk you to the healing tent?” Voice rough the male smirk rested comfortable on his lips. Nodding your head softly you agreed. Pushing back your nerves you boldly took ahold of his arms. Your slim arm easily wrapping around his bigger one. Muscles stiffening under your hold his cocky demeanor slowly slipped away at your proximity. “You do not know what you do to me forest girl.” Finding your smaller hand he engulfed it with his. A warm feeling crashing over the both of you.

As the two of you walked to the healers tent it seemed that the village began to wake with your pretense. A chatter following behind you as the village gossiped. Ao’nung had never openly showed his affection no matter how many relationships he had been in so for him to be walking hand in hand with a na’vi sent shock waves through the village. It did not take long for your news of him courting you to spread like wildfire. You would not be surprised if by the time the two of you had reached the Tsahíks tent the whole village knew. Usually this would make a woman proud. Being claimed by a man so openly was suppose to be something a woman dreams of yet you felt none of that. You did not enjoy the gossiping that occurred after your arrival and did not wish for something about you to be in mouths of others. Sensing your unease Ao’nung squeezed your hands oceans eyes not tearing away from yours.

“You okay y/n?” Stopping a few steps away from the entrance of your destination he turned his body towards you. Your arm being ripped away from latching onto his. A sense of guilt seemed to build as you looked into his concerned eyes. You did not wish to dampen the mood over something so minor. “Of course.” Clasping your hands together you sent a small smile towards the male. Obviously not buying it his face seems to harden but the words never had a chance to leave his lips. Aggressively opening the tent Ronal announced her presence. “You are keeping my student from me. Arent you accompanying your father today? ” Crossing her arms the two of your turned to her. An annoyance plastered on Ao’nungs face as his eyes rolled at his mothers words. “Meet me after eclipse on the beach.” Words spilling out of his lips he pressed a hasty kiss to your forehead. “Of course” responding, your once dampened mood skyrocketd at the simple gesture as the na’vi ran off. Shyly looking too his mother she wore a similar smirk too her sons as she eyed you knowingly. “Come child, we must begin your preparation.”

𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅

Whoever said being a woman in a clans was easy, is a liar. For hours you were given examples and duties of tsahík and the list made your head spin. Not saying that these tasks would be overbearing but it definitely wasn’t light work. You could only thank Eywa the festivities and religious ceremonies were branched out the months. Now, sitting in front of foreign herbs you attempted to memories the names and affects. You only knew a minor amount of healing as you were a warrior alongside your brother in the forest. You tried to tie the Metkayina herbs to the ones you already had knowledge of. “Atla will be helping you I must step out.” Forcing you out of your mind Ronal commanding voice filled the Mauri. Eyeing the na’vi next to the woman you examined her features. She could not be much older than you, maybe around Ao’nungs age. Atla was beautiful standing taller than you she held herself with elegance and confidence with a smile. Rising to your feet you hurriedly greet the woman. “I am y/n”

“Oh please I know, you’re the talk of village!” Voice high pitch she spoke enthusiastically. Striding over to you. “Do not gossip the whole time. The future Tsahík must learn quickly.” Words stern Ronals words were commanding. Although she had her soft moments the thought of having her as a mother in law still sent shivers down your spine. It seemed that her intimidation did not have the same affect on Atla because as soon as Ronal form vanished the woman already had rumors spilling out her mouth. “Is it true you are pregnant ? How far along are you? People in the village are saying its the only reason he’s with a na’vi well……like you.”

“Excuse me?” Confusion and shock evident in your voice you looked the na’vi up and down. Processing her words your feelings soon turned sour. “I am not pregnant, and what do you mean na’vi like me” Poison evident in your voice you looked at the taller woman. “I mean, you are not metkayina and on top of that you’re not true na’vi.” You felt your stomach drop with her eyes as she examined your hand. Clasping them together you quickly tucked in your extra finger body language rigid and hurt. Your obvious signs of discomfort did not seem to affect Atla as she continue too speak as if this was a causal conversation. “The people just never thought he would chose an outsider and alien. There’s a bunch of theories going around since this morning but most think you trapped the poor boy. Did you seduce him?” Disregarding your feelings her eyes bore into yours. She did not seem to have a hint of remorse. The room seemed to suffocate you as you processed her words. Tears pricking the ends of your eyes as your emotions made it hards too breath.

“The people do not think I’m worthy?” Voice cracking you looked up to the female. Her eyes showed confusion at your question as her thoughts swarmed in her head. “I mean, not really, but look at you.” Her words were harsh as she motioned to your frame. “To be honest I always thought it would be me, I was pretty surprised that his parents let him chose.” Not being able to handle anymore of her rambling you rushed through the exit. Inside you knew a part of her was doing this out of jealousy acting all innocent and casual so you would be the dramatic one but you could not seem to care as you stormed out the Mauri. You knew your feeling of euphoria would not last long and people would talk, Ao’nung was to the future chief after all, but hearing the word so soon still hurt. Looking at it from an outside perspective it did make sense, Ao’nung should be with a real Metakyina.

That night you did not meet Ao’nung at the beach. Hell you didn’t even go back to your Mauri. Finding peace in the small forest on the island you hid yourself from reality and the hatefulness of the clans disapproval. Basking in the darkness of the forest you pretended as if you were home. Pretend that you were away from all this conflict for all the disproval you got for the sin of being born. You couldn’t help but wonder if things would be different if you had three fingers. Raising your hand into the sky a hatred grew as you examined the five fingers, cursing Eywa for allowing your soul to crossover into such a form.

To say Ao’nung was confused was an understatement. The male did not understand why you had not shown up on the shoreline. All the excuses in his head running out as eclipse turned too day. The male had dozed off on the shoreline awoken by the tide against his skin. His confusion soon turned to irritation as he gathered his thoughts. The na’vi was quick to set out on a search checking your family Mauri to no avail. They had simply said they assumed she was with him their worried faces telling no lies. His mother seemed to be a dead end as well. Ronals words being “She stormed out on Atla, Atla said it was because she was frustrated with all her tasks.” It was hard for him to believe her words as you were not the type to give up. Finally, the idea of the small forest in near the village struck his mind as he was quick to venture into the unfamiliar area.

Ao’nung had never been much of a land adventurer always sticking to the ocean. He saw the small forest as a place for the gatherers never setting foot in a place he did not have control over. To say he was wandering endlessly would not be a far stretch as he seemed to be lost among the tropical trees. Frustrated and hot his discomfort was unmatched. But, it seems his tireless search did not end up fruitless as his sights soon landed on your dark blue body laid leisurely agains a tree. Your hands worked slowly as you peeled a fruit with your knife. Meaningless humming filling the area around you. “Is this where you have been?!”

Jumping as his voice the fruit was quick to fall out your hand along with your knife. You felt your stomach drops as your eyes were met with a seeming furious Ao’nung. His shadow casting a shade over you as you looked up to meet his eyes. A familiar feeling of guilt and regret seemed to bubble up as you looked at the man the furrow in his eyes unrelenting. “I did not mean too-”

“What? Stand me up?” Voice dripping with anger he glared down at you. “I do not understand what you want.” His seeming angry tone cracked as he said his last sentence. A hint of hurt seeping through his frustration. “Do you even want me? Your actions are so contradicting I do not understand!” Anger slipping away it seems that his true emotions seemed to show. The confusion and pain evident in his tone. “Ao’nung, of course I want you.” Voice soft you rose to your feet. Attempting to place a hand on his shoulder. Harshly ripping away from your touched the na’vi looked into your yellow eyes. “You say that I was playing with you now look at you.” Seeming to come to his own conclusion the na’vi backed away. Heart racing in a panic at his retreating form you felt all your newly formed doubts spill to the surface. Your brain screaming a you to make him stay.

“No! You don’t understand! I simply came out here to recollect. Ao’nung, please.” Racing after him your hand gripped on his shoulder. Harshly turning around his ocean eyes bore into yours. “Ah yes and thats a perfect excuse for showing interest than running away!” Sarcasm evident in his tone his fist clench at his sides. “I just-“ A roll of his eyes seems to shut your right up. A lump in your throat slowly gathering as you felt him slipping from your grasp. “I do not want to hear it y/n”

“No! I only left because your clan does not wish to have me. An alien and outsider as a Tsahík? They do not want me Ao’nung. How could you want me?” Tears pricking the sides of your eyes the lump in your throat only grew as they escaped cascading down your face. “Who has said this?” Although the anger was still evident it was no longer directed towards you as his hand quickly cupped your face. “You have said these words as well you can not be mad at your fellow tribesmen.” Eyes flashing with regret his oceans eyes swarmed with many emotions. Remembering the harsh words that had left his mouth many time.

“I was a skxáwng. I have always wanted you even before I ever realized what these feelings are. Y/n you are meant to be my Tsahík. I do not care what words leave the mouths of the clan members they listen to me.” Softly wiping away your tears his calloused hand brushed against your cheek. Letting his body relax it seems that all the resentment flowed out. His impulsive feelings leaving alongside his assumed conclusions. Feeling the tension leave his body you could help but allow your heart to flutter at his words. Stepping forward you closed the distance between you and Ao’nung, seeming entranced by his very being. Your body did not seem to stop until you felt the heat from his chest only an inch away from yours.

Breathing rigged his ocean eyes scan you. Flashing between your eyes and lips. His self control withering away by the second. “They will always see me as an alien. No amount of power can change that.” Almost as if supporting your point you brung your hand up putting your four fingers on display. It was as if you were working against yourself on purpose, still not fully accepting you could be his. The invisible marks from his actions from weeks ago still seeping in. “Their opinions have no effect on me. I do not care what they see.” Turquoise hand wrapping around yours his color engulfed your hand. “I see you y/n”

His touch burning you looked into his eyes. The breath from your lungs taken away. “I can not breathe without your presence y/n. You do not have to say it back but please do not push yourself away from me I-“ Stoping the mans nervous rant you could not help but crash your lips into his. His hands dropping to rest on your hips. You could taste the saltiness of your tears but it seemed neither of you seemed to care refusing to break the connection. Pushing down the burning of your lungs your pressed your hands against his chest pushing the male until back hit a bark of a tree. An amused hum came from his throat as he pulled away his normal persona taking no time to come back as a smirk rested upon his lips. Chest heaving you seemed to drown in his eyes struggling to catch your breath. “I see you Ao’nung.”

Heart fluttering at your words Ao’nungs ears seemed to shoot up. His once smirking face morphing into a genuine smile. “You will be my muntxate no one will stop that.” Voice stern and determined the male seems to be reassuring your doubts with his eyes holding no lies. A small sigh breached you lips as you rested your head on his chest. Your slim arms wrapping around his waist in a soft embrace he was quick to return. “I will not run away again. I will seek my refuge with you ma Aonung.” A purr coming from his chest the male could not be happier as held you in his arms. A sense of peace washing over the both of you as all the difficulties disappeared. “I will always be here for you my forest girl.”

a/n- I am soo sorry this took so long my summer has been busy! I hope you enjoyed the ending of this little mini series hopefully I did not kill your expectations!!Personally i really enjoyed writing it and hope you loved reading it just as much. 🫶🏽

tags: @yeosxxx @atwow69 @misscaller06 @lynbubble @heart-an0n @jarofer @lovethefruitman @elegantkidfansoul @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @neteyamssbaby @coldlamaspersonspy @optimisticsandwichgladiator @lemonmoonmochi @sully-stick-together @chxrrybobaby-sin @abysshaven @nilrilie @ok-boke (srry if i missed you)

[justliketoreadsowhat]

Self Indulgence ☀︎︎

☀︎︎ 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

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“𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐈𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞“ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐚.

Phoenix was one of the many places you had marked on your list of places to visit this summer before you went back into hibernation for school. You had made a stern promise to yourself that you would get out of the house more and become less of a homebody.

Solo trips and dates became a common factor when venturing out. Being by yourself wasn't the downfall of your vow, you didn't mind being solo, peace rained throughout your mindset as you found solace within your life.

Stepping up to the venue, the windows deeply tinted, allowing the smallest bit of view to see from the outside. On the side, cars were aligned in unison, Mercedez, Maybach's, and Range Rover's easily toppling over thousands of dollars.

Reaching out to open the small double doors, you were met with a security guard who looked everything but amused, towering over your frame aimlessly. His eyes red and low quickly scanning over your attire. He began to nod slowly to himself, pondering with his own thoughts.

Speaking up with a ragged tone "Oh you must be one of their girlfriends right?" his head motioned behind him, revealing a dim purple hue, the area filled with dangerously tall women scattered around each section.

Just go with it

"Uh- yes, sorry I hope I'm not too late" you pressed, falsely checking your gold-plated watch that hasn't ticked in years.

The guard shook his head slightly, "Nah we're just getting started" his free hand released from his biceps motioning you to walk through the entrance. Grounding your steady footsteps, walking into the shallow doorway, the smell of alcohol and prominent fragrance swiveled through the air making your head dizzy.

Music blared through the speakers with bass that shook the ground, how could anyone hear themselves think? To calm your senses, a drink was added to your agenda, a good fruit mixture would never lead you in the wrong direction.

Locating the crowded bar planted in the far right corner was easy, but physically getting there was not. People swarmed every inch of the floor making it nearly impossible to move without touching someone. Cautiously maneuvering through the crowds, you soon acquire that everyone here was in fact a woman, not a male figure in sight, excluding the stoned guard.

Women of all dynamics, tall, muscular, and every lick of beautiful, coming from all different shades. Instantly you knew you were way out of your element, and you'd be indulging every second of it.

Approaching the bar, attempting to blend into the vibe that was flowing through the atmosphere. Cool, calm, and collected. Looking over the different variations of drinks displayed behind the counter.

"You know the pink Whitney and Shirley temple mix goes crazy together, you should try it" a low voice rang in your ear sending a small shiver throughout your body. Eyes darting to the view next to you met with a pair of ocean blue ones.

A small smile masked the impending nervousness growing. "I'm not really a Shirley girl but I love a good pink Whitney"

Her face twisted in shock "Really?!, you look like the type though" Paige asserted, slowly licking her lips and tasting the faint alcohol that lingered. Her demeanor was soft, yet so dominant at all once. It was hard to tell whether she was fully sober or if she was just naturally charming and spoke to whoever was in her line of sight.

"Now what does that mean?" you questioned tilting your head slightly, remarking on her ability to maintain eye contact so easily.

She shrugged "Most pretty girls love Shirley temples" smiling to herself.

"I take it that you're one of them hm?" confiding in the way her features correlated so nicely. Lips the perfect shade of pink, eyelashes curled to perfection, hair slicked back without a single strand out of place. Her tall frame made every aspect match perfectly, including her two-piece set that had dashes of purple stitched within each pattern.

"Something like that" she bantered, tapping her fingers against the cold counter "Here let me buy you one" plucking the gold Amex card stashed in the back of her purple phone case. Good to know you could skip the whole "What's your favorite color" mantra.

"Oh no no it's alright, you don't have to spend your money on me I got it" gently sliding her card back into the slot. Denying Paige was not on your game card for tonight, but you refused to let anyone buy you anything, ever.

"Nah it's not a problem" Paige insisted "Are you here with someone?"

Replaying the guards' assumption in your head, you quickly denied "No I'm just here by myself.." 2nd guessing your answer, a silent prayer sped through your mind, hoping that you didn't talk yourself into a frenzy.

"Mm." she hummed softly against her lips, almost as if she knew you were spiraling on the inside.

"Why do you ask?" your tone more so concerned rather than confused.

Her eyes lightened at your expression "I'm just asking mama, no pressure" a smirk plastered across her face as she watched your eyes widen at the name. She knew what she was doing, this was nothing new to her.

But The Way She Made You Feel Was All New To You

[momotonescreaming]

Part One | Part Two

Jeff felt like he was the only one who actually tried to do some study during his free period. Granted, this was mostly because he didn’t share his free period with anyone, but hey. He’s still counting it. It felt easier than studying at home — no mom to knock on his door every few minutes to ask him something, no annoying younger brothers. Just annoying students constantly getting shushed for talking too loud in the library. At least they listened when the librarian scolded them, unlike a pair of certain younger brothers.

So every day he could, he claimed the same table off to the side of the library, spread out his books, and tried to get some work done. Work on an essay, do some math sheets, sneak in some DnD research when he had the time (and wasn’t worried about the other teens trying to vandalise his papers). It meant he had more time at home to do things he actually liked. DnD. Guitar. Watch some TV.

It was calm, it was routine. No one else sat at his table, and it was better that way. No one wanted to hang out with one of the freaks. It was better when the cliques of Hawkins High didn’t interact. It was also easier said than done. A voice clears — light, high, and almost tentative. Right next to his table. Jeff looks up and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Chrissy Cunningham.

His heart skips a beat, butterflies flutter in his stomach, every single lovesick cliché. Jeff felt them all. Feelings swirling in his stomach like honey. Sticky sweet and coating all of his insides. It was inescapable. Unavoidable.

She was cute, and he could swear he could smell her floral perfume and strawberry shampoo. Chrissy was that close and it was a silly little thing he had dreamed about. Being that close to the head cheerleader, his unattainable crush.

Her hair was tied up in a lilac scrunchie, ponytail perfectly curled, with matching lilac eyeshadow. He was close enough that he could notice these things, could see how the colour matched the purple tint in her ruffled plaid skirt.

Jeff smiled at her, almost unconsciously, trying not to seem too much like a freak. Just another normal guy. He didn’t want to scare her off. He listened to Eddie rant about conformity all day, but smiling at a pretty girl to make her more comfortable doesn’t seem so bad.

“Hi, um,” Chrissy starts, clutching a stack of books to her chest. There’s a subtle flush to her cheeks, rosy red, and Jeff can’t quite tell if it’s makeup or if it’s just her flustered over him. She continues before he can start over thinking about whether it’s a good flush or not. Does he make her nervous. “Can I sit here? Everywhere else is taken.”

Jeff looks over, and finds that Chrissy’s right. All the other tables are full, students littering the tables with books and papers with no room for anyone else. All tables, except his. It’s sort of telling, that the only table free is his, and no one else's, but he’s trying not to think about it too hard. Not when it’s led Chrissy to him, cutely and shyly asking if she can sit.

“Of course,” he replies, a little hurried, maybe a little too desperate sounding. He bites back a wince, and moves some of his textbooks out of her way. “Totally.”

And she smiles, something soft and small, just for him — as she thanks him and slides into one of the seats opposite. He smiles back, heart fluttering within the confines of his ribcage. Looking back down at the notes he’s been working on for his English essay, it suddenly doesn’t seem a appealing. Not in the way that it normally does. The words blur into one another, drift across the page, as Jeff tries to keep his gaze firm on the page and not sneaking upwards to glance at Chrissy.

At her perfectly coordinated outfit, preppy and cute, without looking too frumpy. At the way her bangs frame her face, highlighting her cheeks, her shining eyes. At the subtle gloss on her lips, tinted a faint pink. Jeff wonders what it tastes like. What it would feel like against his lips. Is it cherry flavoured, or strawberry — to match her hair. Would it be sticky as their lips meet? A thread of lip gloss and saliva stringing between them as they pull apart.

Shaking his head, willing that particular train of thought to leave his head, he closes his English notes and pulls out the math sheets that Mr Mundy gave them this morning. Grips his pencil tight and tries not to think about how Chrissy is right there. He can hear her organise her books, unzip her bag and take out her things. The scratch of pen on paper. The flip of the pages turning.

It’s sort of soothing, the soft sounds of Chrissy working, a nice noise overlaying the background noises of the library. And not just because it’s her. It’s nicer than the other teens whispering and giggling about being told off by the librarian, it’s better than the annoyances he gets at home. The subtle noise of someone working in tandem with him. It’s nice. Just keeping him company. Even if Chrissy just wanted an empty table, and not him specifically.

Jeff tries to concentrate, and works on his math sheets. Tries to speed through them without totally beefing it. Math isn’t his favourite subject — that would be English Lit, funnily enough —  but he’s not totally terrible at math. DnD has admittedly, helped. Which was part of the reason his parents let him continue with it (the other part, of course, being that he enjoyed it).

So he thinks of DnD, and of math, and tries to focus on Mr Mundy’s worksheet. Except it doesn’t go all that well, because of course it doesn’t. He’ll work through a problem, sneak a glance at Chrissy, at the matching purple shade she’s painted her nails, and look back at the worksheet only to find he’s worked through the problem all wrong. Sighing, Jeff erases what he’s done, and looks at the equation.

“Excuse me, um,” Chrissy starts quietly, whispering as to not invoke the ire of the already stressed librarian. “Do you have a spare pen, mine’s ran out of ink.”

Jeff looks up, throat hitching, lungs holding air as he locks eyes with Chrissy. Clear blue, deep and inviting and looking at him. He tries to hold himself back, to try not to smile like a loon, and he’s not sure if he’s successful or not.

“It’s Jeff,” he starts, clearing his throat, before digging through his pencil case for a pen he can spare. “And sure. Hope blue’s okay. I know O’Donnell can be a real stickler about black pens only.”

"Blue’s fine,” Chrissy giggles. Fucking giggles. Pressing a hand lightly to her mouth, her soft lips — the other reaching out for the pen Jeff retrieved. “It’s not for O’Donnell.”

“No worries then,” he replies, automatically holding his breath as Chrissy takes the pen, her fingertips brushing against the skin of his hand. Her skin is soft, moisturised, and feels like silk against his. What would it be like, Jeff wonders — retracting his hand, not letting himself linger — if she were to hold his hand. Not just a mere brush of fingertips. Would she entangle their fingers, clutching tight? Would she link their pinkies, swinging their arms in between them as they walked? Would she hold his hand over the table, where everyone could see, so they could work and stay connected at the same time?

“Thank you,” She says, shaking him out of it, uncapping the pen. She jolts a little, eyes widening. “Oh! I’m Chrissy by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeff replies, smiling and tilting his head at her. He can feel all his insides melting inside him, conjoining into one horrible feelings-filled blob settling in his stomach. Clawing up his ribs, growing likes vines. It was everywhere, it was growing, no amount of smothering was going to kill this crush anytime soon. Not when Chrissy was there, looking the way she did, smiling at him so sweetly. Being kind to him.

—

At the end of their free period they went their separate ways, shaken out of their quiet camaraderie by the ringing of the bell. She had smiled at thanked him as she left, face flushed and ponytail swinging behind her.

Jeff felt like he was going to melt into a puddle, but he still, tragically, had class to go to. So he quickly packed up his things and headed to his next class. He shared it with Frank, which was nice as they actually got to sit next to one another. But the guy was scarily perceptive, and Jeff kind of wanted to keep that moment to himself for a little bit. Wrap it up in tape and hold it close, tucked into his chest. Just him, and Chrissy, and the way that she smiled at him.

But if Jeff knew Frank (and he did), he’d read Jeff like a book. Hopefully he could read him enough that he knew Jeff wanted it unsaid, just for the moment. Not counting Eddie, of course. He was his best friend, and he got it, with his insufferable crush on Steve Harrington.

He’d tell Frank eventually, of course he would, but not now. Definitely not on school grounds, while everyone was still there. If a cheerleader or god forbid — one of the basketball jocks — heard Jeff say he had a crush on the head cheerleader? He’d throw himself into the deep end of lovers lake, never to be seen again.

So he sighs, and enters his next class, hitches his bag further up his shoulder and heads towards his assigned desk. Frank arrives shortly after, messenger bag slung on one shoulder and they lock eyes. He tries to keep it casual light, but he’s sure he sees something on his face. See the like and love and ooey gooey feelings seeping out of his pores.

“Did Kaminsky quiz you again?” Jeff asks, hoping to draw the attention away from his traitorous heart. Frank immediately groans in exasperation, tilting his head to the ceiling, and Jeff just laughs. A wash of relief rushing over his tangled emotions.

—

School dragged on, as it always did at the end of the day, and all Jeff wanted to do was go home and lock himself in his room. Maybe wallow in his emotions for a bit, let them settle, and learn some love song on the guitar. Use it to work through his feelings. Sort through them like puzzle pieces. Pick them up one by one, and carefully slot them into place.  There’s gotta be some good metal ones he can learn.

Jeff lets his mind drift, thinking of songs, and of guitars, and of learning a song just for Chrissy. Lets the class wash over him, absently writing down notes, entirely without thinking about it. He should care about this stuff, should want to take notes, should want to pass. But all of a sudden it really doesn’t seem like it matters. Not when Chrissy sat with him, had talked to him, had borrowed his pen. She forgot to give it back in the end, in the rush of the bell, but Jeff didn’t mind. Not when his crush now had something of his.

Ripping his gaze back towards the blackboard, towards the teacher, he lets the subconscious smile he was sporting drop from his face. Drifting his way through the end of class until finally, finally, the end of day bell rings and he’s free. Packing up his things as fast as he can, absently chatting with Frank as they exit class along with the flood of students.

It’s not Friday, so there’s no Hellfire. There’s no Corroded Coffin practice, he doesn’t have to drive his brothers across town to soccer, or some other lesson they’ve been begging their parents to go to. He just needs to get them, go home, and then he’s free to lock his bedroom door and melt into the carpet.

“You need a ride?” Jeff asks Frank, furrowing his brow as he turns towards his friend. The pair of them slowly walking to the student car park.

“Nah,” Frank replies, hitching his bag further onto his shoulder. “My mom’s picking me up so she can take us shopping for my dad’s birthday. Thanks though.”

“All good man,” Jeff replies, and he can’t help but be quietly relieved. That he doesn’t have to make more small talk, that he won’t politely have to invite Frank in to hang out (because he would, of course he would). That he can leave the school day behind, go home and spend some time alone. He needs it, every now and then, to centre himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Frank claps him on the shoulder as he says goodbye, before heading over to the pick up zone. Jeff sighs, lets all the air out of his lungs, before going to wait by his car.

It used to be his dads — an old white ford —  but passed onto Jeff when he upgraded on the condition that he help them drive his brothers around. Jeff had agreed, was desperate for his own car — just little bit more freedom — but he was not a fan of being asked to cart his brothers around like a chauffeur.

So at the end of school Jeff would loiter next to his car until bis brother Vincent came over from the middle school, before driving through the truly terrible pick up line at Hawkins Elementary for Kenneth. It wasn’t that bad, usually. If Vincent didn’t take his sweet time chatting to his friends and being annoying. Making Jeff late. Because of course he did.

He had some time, is what he was saying. Absently scans the parking lot, seeing if there’s anyone he knows, anyone interesting he can people watch. If Chrissy is out here somewhere.

Does she take the bus? Does she walk? Is she staying late for cheer practice? Does she drive, or get a ride from someone else? Her mom, her best friend, Jason. Does he walk her to his car after school, does he hold her books or open the door for her? Does he drive her home with his hand resting on her thigh?

Would she let Jeff do those things. Smiling at him out of the corner of her eyes, giggling when he turns to look at her too. Would she hold his hand over the gear-stick, letting her hand be moved along with his?

“Why are you smiling like that?” Vincent says, entirely too close to Jeff for his liking, making him jolt in place — just slightly. “Weirdo.”

Jeff frowns, looking down at his younger brother to find him giving him a look. Jeff knows that look, he’s seen it on his shithead brother’s face entirely too often. He’s thinking he knows something, is jumping to conclusions, is being a know it all. And if his brothers start talking about how he’s lovesick, has a crush, a girlfriend — it’s all over. He won’t hear the end of it. So he deflects.

“Nothing you need to worry about Vinnie,” Jeff replies, ruffling his brothers hair — because he knows he hates it. “Grown up stuff.”

“You’re not a grown up!” Vincent exclaims indignantly, just as predicted, as they both get into Jeff’s unlocked car. It’s all too easy. A good distraction. “You’re still in high school!”

“I’m closer than you, squirt,” Jeff retorts easily, buckling his seatbelt and starting the engine. Drives off to the sounds of his brothers ranting, and thoughts of Chrissy.

Tag List@goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr

Part Four | Part Five

[nanaloopsy]

simon ‘ghost’ riley, who’s got a twice broken nose, the slope of his nose slightly crooked from healing hidden underneath his mask - he spoke like he had a stuffy nose for a while but it didn’t sound so unusual when he wore his balaclava.

it doesn’t make it any less kissable when you press a kiss to the spot between his eyes.

simon ‘ghost’ riley, with the most obnoxious eye bags. who when you ask “have you ever had a good nights sleep?” is quick to respond with a curt, “once or twice.”

you notice they are almost tinted purple against his pale skin once the eye black is discarded. he’s really ghostly, you notice now. if the call sign fits!

simon ‘ghost’ riley, peppered in moles that your plush lips find themselves itching to kiss. they make him look more dainty than he’d ever be.

one placed by the gods right along his jaw, unnoticed by anyone other than your intent study of the man. you can place a kiss on it - bullseye, without having to see it.

bonus! songs that are ghostie coded 2 me!!

western nights by ethel cain, vore by sleep token, hypnosis by sleep token, still take you home by attic monkeys, CIRCLE BY FLYLEAF!!!!!

[unhappy-last-resort]

Camu drabble

Warnings: non-con, smut

Imagine Camu creeping up behind you just after you finished a mission. It's late and the sky has gone dark, you're too busy staring at the stars to notice how he's looming over you, amethyst eyes carefully sweeping over every inch of your body. He's been wanting to do more with you for a while and now he finally has the perfect window of opportunity to do what he's always wanted with you.

It's too late to stop him by the time he shoves you against a partially broken wall, hands pinned above your head as his free hand roams your body. His hand quickly finding your sensitive areas and stroking/rubbing them as he whispers how good you're doing.

It's not long until your pants and underwear are torn away, his cock thrusting in and out of you like there's no tomorrow, like you're not going to have to walk to the transport craft in a couple hours. Struggling only makes him fuck into you harder, any pleas for him to stop, or slow down falling on deaf ears.

He fills your pretty little hole with his cum again and again until it spills out of you, using you like his personal fucktoy until he can see the transport craft in the distance.

"Ah, there we go. My little Commandant looks much better this way, I think you're suited for this." Camu whispers in your ear as he coats your walls with his purple tinted cum for the last time, pulling out of you and catching some of it with his fingers so you can taste it.

"You took it so well just like I told you, and remember-"

"Not a single peep about this to anyone, got that?"