#anyways best of luck in your writing anon!

[jacqcrisis]

Hello! Sorry if you're tired of talking about your older writing instead of the current works which I also love, but I wanted to say I love your characterization(s) of Charon throughout your work and I was wondering if you had any tips on understanding his character's core/just how to write him true to form?

Listen. Listen. I can talk about Charon all day. I love him. I have other hades AUs I haven’t even talked about on here that I think about often to this day and if I ever get the itch, they will be written.

And that’s very kind of you to say. Idk if I write him true to any form, but I am extremely anal about keeping characters as in character as possible. Or at the very least, as believably in character as I can. When I plan on writing a character for a longer fic, whether AU or not, I usually try to find out everything about them and break them down to the bone before building it back up. What is in canon that I can use to build back a believable skeleton that is fleshed by what I can infer from the bones underneath?

So core character concepts for Charon that are in canon that I use:

Greedy - he likes him gold and him stuff. No matter what universe you are writing in, this is one of, if not, the biggest driving factor for any job or hobby he has. He wants money, he likes money, and he knows how to make money.

Protective - of his things, his lifestyle, and the people he cares about. He’ll fight Zagreus, who he likes, if he touches his shit. One of the few emotions you can get out of him in game is anger at possibly uncovering his ‘thing’ with Hermes. He keeps Persephone’s location a secret (thereby protecting her) because either he cares for her or because Nyx does and Charon cares about his mom.

Difficult to discern - in part because he’s a big spooky skull man whose face you can’t see and who doesn’t talk, but it also seems to be mostly on purpose. Charon can communicate, given what other characters know more about him, but he specifically chooses not to. What you come to know about him, you find out through context clues, what other people say, and your own sleuthing which leads to-

Extremely private and disinterested in other people’s opinions about him - to the point, he doesn’t care what the GODS THEMSELVES think. All of them think he’s vile and nasty (save for Hermes). The people he’s close with know the kind of person he is, and that’s what matters. On top of that, he has his secrets, and he keeps them hidden, one of these secrets being who he is as a person. 

Independent - Nyx states she doesn’t worry about him because he’s extremely good at doing his own thing and he likes it that way, unlike her other failsons. His intentions are all on his own, and he doesn’t answer to anyone; not her, not Hades, not the gods, only himself. If he is helping someone, it is for his own reasons (maybe because he cares, probably because of money, possibly because Hermes asked).

Clever - He’s literally the head of an underground smuggling ring in game. Like this man knows how to do shit, make money, and get away with it. He’s capable of thinking many steps ahead, and able to plan for the long con.

Methodical - He's got his routine. He rows his boat. He counts his coin. He's mans his shops. He does things his way. He has his methods and he sticks to them.

Patient - that one's a gimme. He’s older than most of the gods and paddles a ferry around at the pace of molasses and doesn’t speak and does nothing to really speed Zagreus’ plight along. Clearly he understands and practices patience. 

Good Fighter - he’ll beat your ass.

Asexual (of some kind) - Aphrodite directly states she can’t get to Charon as he only ‘lusts after coin’. He is immune to machinations of the goddess of sex and beauty. But not the god of merchants, clearly.

A Gentleman - by Hermes’ opinion. Hermes really likes Charon. Please say hi to him for Hermes because- 

Charon Really Likes Hermes - no matter what you think is going on between them, if it’s just friendship, or professional associates, or he’s in love, this is canon. He ignores everyone at the party for Hermes and vice versa. He’s very protective of the thing they have going on. He specifically lets Hermes into the Underworld far enough that Zeus can’t sense him anymore. Hermes hangs out in his shop. Hermes boon is THE MOST EXPENSIVE ONE AT HIS LAST SHOP NO MATTER WHAT. I cannot stress how much Charon gives Hermes a pass and how much Hermes seemingly knows about him despite the other core concepts listed above I just- I- AH

Anyways, from those bones, you can start to infer and build back a believable version of the character for whatever you are writing. Is he kind and thoughtful? Probably, given how the people who know him talk about him. Is he loyal? Given how he acts in regards to his inner circle, you could say yes. Does he have a temper? Probably not, given he doesn’t care much about other people’s opinions nor reacts very much to anything in canon save for very specific circumstances. Is he lonely? Probably, on some level considering he’s alone all the time and how protective he is of his buddy, etc, etc, etc. 

The bones justify what you are putting on top of them and with that, for whatever thing you're writing, you can build up a believable version of a character. Even in the most extreme of AUs, like in the 70’s and on a beach in America or maybe in a dnd type universe where a character might be a lich for…reasons, as long as the core concepts are in place and every decision or authorial deviation from canon the characters make stem from those, it will be fine.

[the-owl-tree]

Do you have any advice on writing? I have so many storyboards and ideas that I just can't portray correctly. It's all too dry, any ideas on how to fix that? And how do I make a rough draft? Do I just jot down ideas?

I'm so sorry for all the questions, you're just really creative. I'm so sorry to annoy you, have a good day Owl!

okay for starters

THAAANNKK YOUU that's so nice!! but unfortunately i would not consider myself the best person to ask for fictional writing since i don't do it as much as i'd like to. also tend to just do short idea posts rather than any real writing (stares at my google docs yearningly) but for my general creative process when i do write:

-jot down ideas as soon as they come, even if you can't relate them right away. it doesn't matter how silly they may seem, sometimes a silly idea can be the best one

-find the story that speaks to you and just stick with it! this one is something i struggle with (as u can see by many frantic ideas on this blog, there are so many NON wc shit stories i have simmering in my phone notes lmao). don't go for long form stories right away with these, try short ones that you can see an ending to (that isn't in like. four years).

-if it's fanwork, always adopt a "my way or the highway" approach. having fun and staying silly is very important, do what you enjoy (and just by doing it you will improve)

-rough drafts (for me) are giving myself a barebones idea of how the story will go and then proceeding to work through the details: character a needs to go to x -> why does character a do that? does something force them? Do they go on their own? If yes, why do they feel they need to do that? (and this can be hard!! so honestly don't be afraid to just sit back and let it simmer for a bit. i honestly get most of my inspo for when im out on walks and then i have to hurriedly jot down shit on my phone lol)

-don't be afraid to just do some short writing without a plan! just have fun, get an idea in your head and wing it. it gets you back in the swing of how you wanna write and it's a great way to experiment with different perspectives, detailed writing, trying to recapture energy you got from other books, etc.

-if you're struggling with portrayal, trying doing some research! if you're writing xenofiction, the best part is learning more about the animal you wanna write about. i've wasted so many time reading about cat colonies.

-read books of the same genre you want to write. im being hypocritical here cause ive not read nearly enough but trust me it’ll help you in knowing the structures of these genres + general atmosphere to catch

-never base the worth of your creations based on internet engagement. this one is sooo difficult to avoid and i struggle with it but also remember you are target audience number one

there are tons of creative writing blogs on here that pull together writing advice and share short stories as well, i like to look them over when i'm feeling a bit dry on what to write.

that's about it from me, these are things that i find helpful but i hope you find some more stuff that works for you! good luck with your writing, i hope i get to see some of it :D

[fcthots]

Happy New Year!! I wish you the best of luck and prosperity in the New Year!

Have you thought about teasing Jason? Maybe making him read one of his favorite books out loud as you tease him til he can’t remember the words?

happy new year!!

Anon, you genius. I am a Jason loves teasing you truther, but I hadn't even considered the possibilities of you teasing Jason. And now that I am, he would not be able to take it for long. He would get so whiny and xhibedcd i have so many ideas for this, it's hard to pick one.

I'll proofread this later. <3.

It's not that Jason doesn't pay you enough attention, you take up 75% of his thoughts, but when Jason starts reading, it takes up all of his focus. It's damn near impossible to get his attention. Good thing you love a challenge.

When you walk into the living room, he's seated comfortably on the couch. A well worn book rests in his hands. He is so engrossed in it that he doesn't seem to notice your presence. You'll have to fix that.

"What are you reading?" He doesn't quite jump, but his eyes shoot up. There's something to be said about how he's so comfortable around you that his guards is completely let down. That does something to your insides.

"Just some poetry." It's such a vague answer that it piques your interest.

"What kind?" You step closer to him. His eyes track you.

"Some love letters. It's Letters to Milena by Franz Kafka." He'd spoken of the book before you think.

"Thinking about me while you read?" You climb onto the couch and straddle him. One of his hands moves to your waist on instinct.

His face dusts with a light blush. He doesn't respond, seemingly at a loss for words. You wrap your arms around his neck. He stutters for a moment, but never quite makes a full word. You smile. He's getting so riled up and you've barely done anything.

"Read it to me." His brows furrow and he fumbles with the pages. You dip your face into the crook of his neck and softly bite down. His breathing grows deeper and faster.

He stutters at first, struggling to find his place in the book. Eventually he finds it. "Yesterday, I advised you not to write me every day," You feel him grow hard beneath you, "I still hold the same opinion today and-"

You grind down onto him. His head tilts back, moving your face away from his neck, as he makes a sound between a whine and a moan. You lift your hips away from his and he opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first. "Keep going."

He nods obediently. His movements are shaky, pent up and nervous. "it would be very good for both of us," You drop your hips back onto his and he gasps, but doesn't stop, "and so I repeat my advice today even more-..." His voice trails off as your hand drops from his shoulder to down into your pants. He watches you with something akin to reverence as you slip the pants and underwear off together (with some difficulty). You drop them to the floor. Jason shudders beneath you. "Wait." His voice is whiny as he pants beneath you. "Please," one of his hands moves to the hem of your shirt and tugs, "take this off. Need to see you, please."

You start tugging it over your head. "Only if you keep reading." He nods vigorously and you unclasp your bra.

"Emphatically- only please," his voice hitches when display your tits in his face, you bring one hand to your chest and roll a nipple between your fingers, making a show of throwing your head back and pushing your chest towards his face with a breathy moan. "Milena," you grind against him and he stutters for a moment. You move the other hand back between your legs and begin to work yourself open, starting with two fingers, in and out. He continues and his hooded eyes watch your every move. He doesn't need to look at the book to know the words. "Don't listen to me, and write me every day anyway," you add another finger to your rhythmic motions that brush against his length, "it can even be very brief," you add in your pinky finger and Jason makes a pathetic little whiny sound that is music to your ears.

You undo the drawstring of his sweatpants and push them further down his thighs. Putting his book down, he shimmies his hips to help you get the pants down, as impatient as ever. As soon as he cock springs free, you urge him, "Keep going."

He watches, trying his best to keep talking, as you lift your hips and bring his tip to your folds. Your other hand staying occupied on your chest. His hands anchor themselves on your waist, "briefer than today's letters," he moans out as you begin to slightly push yourself down. He soldiers on, "just 2 lines," you slide down even more. You do your best to keep your own moans under control, you want to be able to watch him. You've worked yourself enough so he slides in easily, the stretch not painful. He feels good.

He can't form words while you take your time bottoming out on his cock. Once, you've sat your full weight on him, he can't tear his eyes away from where your bodies join. One of his hands slides down until his thumb reaches your clit. He's distracted, entranced, by you. You struggle to keep your composure. "Keep reading."

His eyes stay focused on his thumb as it circles your clit. "Just one," you move your hips up and snap them down. Pleasure blooms in your chest and you hear Jason curse and breathe faster. "Just one word," you find a rhythm moving up and down on his dick. His voice constantly wavers and he moans between words. "But if I had to go ah without them," the length between each word gets longer and longer as you move faster and faster and he gets closer and closer. He struggles to get even one word out.

"Finish it and I'll let you finish." You're getting close now too, his demeanor clearly having an effect on you. His thumb speeds up.

He nods, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "I would suffer terribly." He says the words fast, all in one breath as he begins to thrust up into you. You clench around him as he lets out a loud moan. You cum together as he spills out of you. His head tosses back and his thumb stills and he twitches through the last waves of his orgasm. You drop your head onto his shoulder and slouch against his chest. His arms curl around you and he kisses whatever skin he can reach. You legs burn and your knees ache, but you have nothing to be worried about. Jason will take care of you.

Also disclaimer! I have not read the book yet! I plan on getting it soon bc I've been wanting to read it for years, but have yet to read the full thing full so that's why it's undetailed.

[divine-donna]

hey, can you make Miguel O'Hara X gender neutral reader? Where reader (Miguel lover) accidentally get teleport or glitch in the spider verse where they (the Spidey's) were in the middle of chasing miles? Thank you! <3

hi anon. i'm happy to write this for you.

i wrote this in the form of headcanons rather than a fic. i'm still recuperating from finishing dragon age: inquisition, the succession finale (even if it was like a week ago), my adrenaline high from the across the spiderverse, and the other things i have written already.

some creative additions i made: this is a spidey! reader. i think it naturally made more sense to have a spidey! reader rather than a civilian. i would have to jump through a lot of hoops for a civilian reader to make sense and my brain does not have the capacity to jump through those hoops right now.

you deserved a well needed rest. after all the work you had been pulling to keep the multiverse safe, it was the least you deserved. especially a nap.

what you didn't expect when you went home was to just fall asleep on the couch.

you had gone out with your friends, finally caught up with them, and changing into some comfortable lounging clothes. you had plans to watch the newest 3 hour long ego project the director called a movie. and naturally because it was 3 hours long and an ego project filled with nothing, you ended up falling asleep.

what you forgot to take off was your multiversal band. you always kept it on in case of emergencies.

you also had a habit of rolling around in your sleep a bit. and you don't have the best luck with technology.

naturally your band malfunctions and you're thrown into the portal and transported back to hq.

ideally you didn't want to be falling through the space. but you were. and that woke you up.

"fuck! fuck! fuck!"

you had no web shooters. why would you? who sleeps with web shooters anyways? (actually there are some spider people that might)

and the worst part is, no one seemed to notice that you were falling. because they were busy doing something else.

when you squinted your eyes, you saw what was happening: every single spider-person that was at hq was chasing after one singular spider-person.

you didn't know who it was but from the looks of it, it looked like a young spider-person. someone who was only a kid.

if only you weren't just free falling-

"(y/n)! what are you doing here!" a familiar voice exclaims.

he caught you in midair, swinging safely to the nearest platform that wasn't stampeding with spider people and other variations of spider totems to set you down.

you took in his appearance. his hair was disheveled and his fangs were poking out. you also noticed his talons were out too and his breathing was heavy.

"i...i was teleported here on accident." you explain. "what is going on?"

"i can't talk right now. go back home! it's supposed to be your day off!" he gives you a small kiss on your cheek and prepares himself to jump off the platform.

"miguel, who is that?"

"miles morales. he disrupted a canon event and now the multiverse is at stake! and we're trying to prevent him from causing another one."

"okay well did you try talking to him?"

"of course!" he exclaims, turning to look at you. "it's the first thing i did. but he doesn't want to listen. now i have to catch him before he disappears!"

he doesn't even wait for you to respond before jumping off. as much as miguel loved you and loved talking to you and cherished your presence, he had to catch up to miles. he had to stop him.

he had to save the multiverse.

you were left with a sinking pit in your stomach. something told you that today was not the day to take off.

but first you needed to find lyla or margo to help with your watch so you can grab your suit and equipment and come back.

[dogboytim]

hey can you write a story about Thomas Hewitt getting jealous when a man is talking to his S/O

OH BOY CAN I. ANON IM GONNA SMOOCH YOU FOR THIS.

This is more fluff than anything because I need this scenario out of my head.

It wasn’t very often Thomas got jealous. There was nothing for him to be jealous of most times. Nobody really came out that far unless that got lost. A similar situation to how you ended up here but obviously you had a more happy ending compared to most.

The Texas heat was rarely friendly, especially on days like today when you and Thomas were cooped up in Luda Mae’s shop. The small desk fan did nothing to cool the two of you down but they didn’t exactly have money for a good AC unit.

“Hey, sweetheart.” A thick southern drawl came from the door, causing both you and Thomas to look. The man definitely wasn’t from here. That wasn’t a Texan accent at all. It was clear from the way Thomas clenched his jaw that the pet name didn’t sit right with him.

“Can I help you?” You tried your best to sound polite but it came out more passive aggressive. You watched as the man strolled in, head held high like he owned the whole damn state. Thomas didn’t care much for people in general but this man was pushing his limits by just existing.

The man leaned over the counter, eyes looking you up and down like a stray dog eyeing a piece of meat. “I’m a bit lost and I was wondering if you had a map or something.” He moved closer, the top half of his body nearly over the counter. You opened your mouth to speak but you were quickly silenced when Thomas slammed a map down on the counter.

He had officially had enough.

The man took the map and gave your boyfriend a glare. You could see that if you didn’t get Thomas out of here soon, he was going to snap. You wished the man the best of luck and told Luda Mae that you and Thomas were headed home to cool off.

“Thomas, you do I love you and only you right?”

No answer. Not that you expected one anyway.

You sighed, pulling into the driveway. It was likely Hoyt would bring the man back for supper. You knew Thomas would enjoy killing him but right now you had to focus on reminding him that you loved him.

“Tommy.” That got his attention. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking what you wanted. Your hands found their way to his face, thumbs running over his cheeks. Gently, you lowered his mask. This was something he only let you do.

You kissed him.

That kiss made his heart flutter. Oh how he loved the way your lips melted against his. If this was what he got for being jealous, you can bet it’ll happen more often.

[beevean]

I can't stop thinking about this morning's anon and some of their wording. "This was so scary to write because if any of my friends knew about this my life would be over".

It's short but I honestly felt so bad for them. They really don't need this on top of their other experiences. And what's worse, this is the common mentality now: I keep seeing, on Twitter and Tiktok screenshots, teenagers who genuinely ask if a ship they like is "proship", with the underlying message being "please don't bully me".

And listen to me. I am the most insecure bitch on the planet. I would literally eat my own hands with ketchup and mayonnaise rather than reveal my music tastes to other people. I've been endlessly mocked for my passions ever since I was a child - not bullied, but I've been told by parents and classmates that no one cares, or I'm too old for this, or I need to live in the modern world... long story short, to this day I do not want to be perceived. So I understand the feeling of "you will pry my true tastes from my cold dead hands". I am old enough to know these are irrational thoughts, but to this day I much prefer to keep things to myself.

So listen: you deserve friends who do not judge you.

Again:

You deserve friends who do not judge you.

It's one thing to prefer to keep your tastes private because you're a private person. That's fine! That is your right! But please, if you really think your friends will hate you because you happen to read Problematic™ fiction... no, that shouldn't happen. Especially not on the internet, where nobody should know about you as a person. Friends who do care about you would not think any less of you for something as common (yes it's common!) as enjoying some spicy stories. It is not a crime. It does not say anything about your morals. And it's even worse if you've already suffered in the past, but this goes for everyone.

I don't want to get into the whole pro/anti ship discourse because I am sick of how easily the internet twists the meaning of important words until discussions can't be had because the two factions are not even talking about the same thing anymore. I don't know anon's previous or current stance on shipping, what they meant by that comment, and again the wording worries me a little when combined with that other comment. I do have my thoughts about it that go beyond what "proship" means, and I'll summarize:

not only no one deserves harassment for what they ship, but the only thing you can judge from someone's writing is their writing level. Not their actual personality, not their experiences, and less of all their real-life morals.

Brand this backwards on your forehead and read that in the mirror everytime you wake up.

Anyway. I don't know if you'll read this, anon, but I really wish you all the best luck in the future. And I'm very glad that you approached me to tell me that - as sad as the circumstances are, and I'm sorry for being self-aggrandizing, your praise made my day :)

[whalesforhands]

MY GOD YOUR GETO X READER X GOJI FICS SCRATCH AN ITCH IN MY BRAIN AND THE SHOKO CRUSH ADDITION?!?!? ABSOLUTELY DIVINE I TELL YOU!!!! Part 3 had me hurting ngl like ouch man but it inspired some angst *rubs hands evilly* what if one day after a tough mission reader is just feeling super down and tired and weak and is abt to cry and runs into Gojo and Geto who (not knowing any better) start teasing her abt her abilities and cursed technique etc not knowing her mental state and she just snaps and starts crying and yelling at them abt if all they think of her is a joke then they should just leave her alone instead of messing around with her feelings and runs off. Shoko is the one to find her and comforts her while Gojo and Geto are left gobsmacked and stricken with guilt. I’ll let you imagine how they realize what idiots they are and try to fix their huge screwup. Also I’m so glad you’re writing for Geto x reader x Gojo there’s hardly any fics on here with that pairing and not smut (not that I don’t love that too but I want PAIN and DRAMA and SHENANIGANS) and your fics give me just that so ty

anon i’m going to cry i finally got another ask. i thought ppl hated me bro. ur so cute for such a detailed and compliment filled ask, anon

i write 2 gs x reader bcs it never feels right knowing that they are without each other. i need them to be happy 😭😭

anyways, eat up

dread creeps around the corner (gojo x reader x geto, shoko x reader)

warnings: angst to fluff, y’all making me consider quitting smut writing to become a full time PG writer cause these are way more fun

You think the weariness of life is catching up to you.

Your body felt heavy, your feet dragging as your back was hunched over. Your staff strapped to your back as your eyesight started to blur.

Your backpack seems even heavier today too. You were sure you packed light.

Another mission, another near-miss. How many times would you be able to just make it out with your life? How many times until your luck finally ran out?

Why weren’t you improving? Why weren’t your techniques breaking past their limit quicker? What are you doing wrong?

Why are you so weak?

Perhaps you just aren’t cut out for savi- No.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts as you sense the familiar energy begin to surround you.

“Little Miss Barrierrrrrr!” An arm latched itself onto your shoulders as weight suddenly pressed itself down onto you, the sudden pressure causing you to stumble backwards, only for the arm to support you and keep you upright on your feet.

“How was your mission?” Gojo’s loud voice rang throughout your ears, it’s sheer volume grating and painful. His hand going round to the strap of your backpack, tugging it off of you and onto his own shoulder.

The other presence flanked your side, before you felt the weight of your staff disappear from your back, leaving you empty handed as the two sorcerers smiled down at you.

You took a breath in.

“It… It was-“ Horrible. Tragic. You survived by the skin of your teeth once again. You struggled to find the strength to describe it in more detail.

“Fine.”

Gojo grins as you felt Geto’s hand pat your head.

“Sounds like code for, ‘You struggled!’” He laughs, patting your back. “My Six Eyes tell me your cursed energy barely improved after that mission too. Should I ask Yaga to assign you harder ones? Maybe with us?”

Your body stills. It… Barely improved? You gave that mission your best shot.

You heard Suguru laugh as he smacked Satoru’s arm, ridding his arm off your shoulder as he replaced it with his own.

“It’s alright,” Suguru began. “Don’t listen to him. Improving takes time anyway.”

Takes… Time? How hypocritical does he have to be to tell you that? He, along with the gifted Gojo Satoru, had immense cursed energy from the beginning. Their talent innate, their improvement expedited with little to no training.

Self-sufficient, talented, never having to try too hard to far surpass the standards of average. Exceptional. Things that you never were, never will be.

Frustration had built up, your emotions starting to light aflame. With desperation, with aggravation. Why did it always feel like they looked down upon you?

“Helloooo? Earth to Miss Protection? Ya there?” Gojo waved his hand in front of your face.

Seeing no response, he reached a hand out to caress your cheek.

“Gosh, if you’re going to be so distracted, I might just ki-“

You slap his hand away before he could touch you. Eyes alight with anger, you looked straight at him, throwing Geto’s arm off your shoulders.

“If you think I’m so weak, then just leave me alone!”

The air grew tense. Your tears were beginning to well up.

“I- I know I’m weak, okay?! You don’t have to rub it in all the time! B-but I’ve tried! I’ve tried too hard for you to tell me that I’m not doing enough!” The dam broke, your cheeks streaked with your tears as your stutters caused you to grow embarrassed.

Why can’t you even express your anger more courageously?

You turned tailed and ran away. Your sobs making themselves more apparent the more you ran, the more your legs burned.

You were such an embarrassment.

Settling by a creek, your legs bundled up to your chest as you cried into your knees. You don’t know how long you’ve been here crying your stress out. Your eyes were puffy, stress not leaving your body as you sat still, listening to the gentle pitter patter of the rain beginning to fall upon you.

Can the day really not get any worse?

You wanted to laugh at yourself as you felt the rain begin to drench your uniform. It was your last clean one. You need to do the laundry again soon.

As the rain poured down on you, it suddenly stopped. A shadow had overcome your figure, providing you shelter.

Cigarette smoke and a hint of a citrusy fragrance.

Shoko.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

You stay silent. You didn’t expect to be found. Nor did you even feel like talking right now. You bury your face deeper into your folded arms, trying to hide. You don’t want to be seen as weak by Shoko.

It stays that way for a moment. Silent, besides the gentle patter of the rain.

“It’s not,” She began. “It’s not weak to cry when you’re sad. Not in front of me.” Assurance. She was comforting you.

You felt her settle next to you, getting her skirt wet.

She gently adjusted your head to rest on her shoulder.

“Cry all you want. I’ll be here.”

And you did. Sobbing, fingers digging into her uniform as your tears and snot mixed into her clothing.

You didn’t notice her other shoulder getting wet with rain as she held the umbrella up over the both of you.

——

You were holding her arm with both of your own as she walked you back to the dorms.

You were ready to take a shower, collapse onto your bed and cry even more. Too much stress has built up.

What you didn’t expect was to see the duo settled on your carpeted floor.

They scrambled up to their feet almost instantaneously.

You sniffled, your eyes red and weary as you held Shoko’s arm tighter.

Geto spoke first, a hand of his outstretched to touch you before he willed it back to his side. “I- We’re very sorry. It wasn’t our intention to hurt you.”

He never wanted to make you feel inferior.

Gojo’s eyes were downcast, sight seemingly stuck to the floor before he raised his gaze to be directly looking at you.

“You’re not weak. You just need more training.”

Geto elbowed his side as you heard Shoko sighed exasperatedly beside you.

“Ow!” The white haired sorcerer exclaimed. “Oh, and uh, I- I’m sorry… Too.” He rubbed at his torso where Suguru had landed his hit.

“Hopeless…” You heard her murmur. Strangely, you didn’t feel taken aback by Gojo’s seemingly insincere apology.

You found it funny. You giggled, desperately trying to not let them see as a hand came up to slap itself over your mouth, your eyes beginning to light up with joy.

“It’s-“ You tried to speak through your silent laughter. “It’s- Okay.” Getting ahold of yourself, you remove your hand.

“I forgive you.” You smiled.

“We bought you pizza as an apology by the way.”

“You’ll join us, right?”

masterlist

Note:

Geto, Gojo and Shoko thought your laughter was cute, especially after seeing how hard you cried.

Surprisingly, Geto and Gojo were fighting over who was to pay for the pizzas. They both wanted to pay for you. Shoko watched, amused by their fighting as she paid for it at the counter whilst they were too busy wrestling.

You never thought you’d get so hungry after crying so hard. You ate nearly half of the whole damn thing before Geto went to order some more.

Gojo thought it was adorable how you were stuffing your cheeks like a pig.

Shoko licked some sauce off your face as you were eating, you blushed so hard and told her she’d make an amazing wife.

“Just because of some sauce?!?! I can do that too-!”

[namis-gf]

Just saw that you’re open for one piece requests and thought I’d drop by.

Would you consider writing back rub and back kisses hcs for katakuri or marco please? And best of luck with the come back ^^

anon ur so insane how did u KNOW i was thinking obsessively about katakuri for the past two weeks straight... ur too good. i meant to stick closer to the prompt but the plot kinda got away from me, sorry!

summary: strawhat!reader x katakuri meet again after many years apart during the whole cake island arc. luffy has been trying to convince him to join his crew with no success, but maybe he might listen to you?

word count: 969 words / 0.9k

cw: none? i think?

whoever said katakuri was 48 year-old eldest daughter syndrome is absolutely correct. he has so many hangups when it comes to both physical and verbal affection, most of the time preferring to passively sit by and let people bother him. case in point, your captain. instead of immediately setting sail for zou to meet up with everyone, luffy has taken it upon himself to convince the minister of flour that his presence is desperately needed on his crew. permanently.

and, if you're going to be polite about it: things aren't going well. you've watched for two days straight, luffy yelling either to the gentle giant's face (which is still quite a distance from the ground), or attempting to scale the walls of katakuri's home. neither of those particularly difficult for the rubber boy, considering the house slash castle itself seems to be basically falling apart.

you wait. nami often sits by your side, either grouching about the time, plotting your captain's demise, or napping on your shoulder. chopper and brook have taken to an almost betting ring of sorts, getting the remaining residents of komugi island to guess whether their leader will stay or go. so far, the odds aren't in luffy's favour. as usual, you might add.

at the end of their fourth extra night, luffy returns to the sunny. he looks a little downtrodden, yawning, but has somehow gotten a hold of a handful of mochi. "i think katakuri was trying to kill me again, but he lost. the food he makes is really yummy though, shishishi!"

with a sigh of your own, you offer, "let me talk to him, i have an idea."

"you do?" luffy replies, mouth full of sweets, "go ahead!"

"call if you need anything!" chopper chimes in.

nami only shakes her head. "if you don't come back, we'll assume you got trampled to death or something. so don't do that please."

"don't even worry about it, i'm basically a pro social hustler," you tell them, and begin the walk to the castle.

"so you are not a bard, or a songstress, or a very small jester. your presence here confuses me, you did not seem like someone who would ever become a pirate," katakuri tells you, his tone as solemn as ever.

"is this a roundabout way of saying i don't have any talents?" you mock-gasp with flair, "oh you wound me so!"

he stares at you wordlessly. okay, it looks like jokes are off the table.

"but you missed me right?" you try instead, putting on your biggest smile. "you missed me so bad, must be why you look so grumpy all the time."

"is your captain aware of..." he pauses, considers, "does the strawhat know of your past?"

"sort of?" you shrug your shoulders, shifting forward to adjust like you aren't already lying on one of his legs (truly the world's largest couch). "there was never exactly a good time to bring it up, ya know? like how was i supposed to say 'uh hey guys, i used to work here as the world's worst gardener before i got fired'."

"hm, that does seem difficult," katakuri nods. "i could not tell how much they knew, but you are lucky that none of my siblings happened to remember you well enough to say anything."

"small blessings for sure," you do your best to contain a laugh, however the echoing chambers of an empty castle only make it louder. "anyways, cut the bullshit. you're gonna come with me, right?"

his neutral expression shifts into something like a frown, and yet you can tell he isn't exactly angry at your presumptuousness either. "i would like to accompany you. but my duties to my... mother and the family take precedence."

"and if you left, she'd send the whole gang after you."

he sighs again. "yes, that is the most probable outcome. and i would not wish to put the strawhat crew in danger."

"that's charming," you reply, "but also really stupid. and i know you aren't a dummy, right? you've been hanging around this dreary archipelago for your whole life! don't you want to, i don't know, do something? go on an adventure?"

he doesn't respond immediately, but a large hand clumsily pats your head with his pointer finger. you grin, knowing victory must be in sight. "your totally evil mom doesn't even leave her place that often, so she won't even notice that you're gone! and tell me right now that you don't think luffy would be chomping at the bit to fight her again? be serious, mochi-mochi."

all of a sudden the ground shifts under you, and you make an embarrassing yelp as you're dragged up and up and up. katakuri holds your body by the back of your shirt, and you're only partially worried that he could drop you. death by splat on marble floor isn't appealing in the slightest. you're suspended by a shirt pinched between fingers as he squints slightly, as though looking for a secret in your expression.

"fine," he eventually says, "i will go. but if something goes wrong, do not say i didn't warn you."

"ah, you're bringing me back to old times!" you hum, making a familiar grabby hand motion for him to drop you on his shoulder. "except i think uh, the last time you warned me-"

"you got fired, yes," he says amicably, but acquiesces to your request. "left or right?"

"right! i wanna look like a really mean parrot, mr. pirate," you exclaim, laughing as he drops you gently where you'd asked. feeling mischievous, you press a kiss against his neck and watch as his face goes pink. "we should probably go make sure that you won't sink the sunny, though!"

"... and you somehow did not think to check something like that before?"

FIN (FOR NOW)

[bigfatbimbo]

AH‼️ It's 🫶 anon, good to hear that you did, indeed, receive at least one of my ramblings! You're truly one of my favourite hazbin writers :)) the way you write fluff is immaculate! Your fluff smells of coconut dish soap and freshly cleaned clothes, but without fabric softener because you're efficient and know that fabric softener is a scam. I am so glad to hear that you enjoyed my long talk about Velvette! I doubted it would have turned out well considering I am ace/aro (shoutout to alastor🗣🗣📢) and well, as I predicted, it could have went better ahaha x-)).

Well! I always deliver on my promises! So, i will give more romantic headcannons for Velvette (because as you may have noticed, I am more of a pining kind of person and forgot to write the romance part of the romantic relationship with her, so, use this ask as a.. apology of sorts?) And, one of my next asks will be those awaited nsfw headcannons haha^^

So‼️ now that your relationship has really started, there are a couple paths this could go in (all equally adorable if you ask me)

Our reader is a weak demon!

In this case, this entire situation is a little more hillarious than it would be if the reader were stronger ahaha:)) anyway! Velvette would probably have your safety on her mind 25/8. She is only eased in her anxiety because, well, she doesn't exactly allow you out of her sight. She's working? You're sitting next to her watching as her new collection comes to life.

Nobody gets to be close to you! Nuh uh! She isn't as bad as Vox to the point where she doesn't even let you see your friends with how nightmarishly bratty he'd get if you did go see them, but she is quite assertive when she thinks it is "too much".

Sometimes she sees you as too valuable for the low-lives you interact with among the weaker demons, and, if you cannot tell the signs of that thought creeping into her head, she might just start whining about how awful all your friends are. Insessantly.

She isn't aware that it is a manipulation tactic, pointing out their flaws all the time, that is. If you do inform her that it is wrong to do such things, I regret to inform her that you're out of luck. Her "friends" are more business partners than anything, and slandering them to you is one of her favourite activities; "fuck, you deserve to be an overlord WAYY more than any of the losers in that meeting. UGH. They're so annoying, it's crazy. Oh also did I tell you? That old fuck was at the meeting! Oh, which one? I don't fucking know his stupid name, but I think it's the one Vox has his panties in a twist about.. oh oh! Hear this-" it is her favourite part of the day, really. The only people she found tolerable in her work were those who agreed with her all the time, and the didn't pay much mind to them honestly. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer", it seems. So, it is hard for her to grasp why you didn't want her to slander the people you held close.

She will make an effort to complain about them less, though, but only after you managed to put her in the right track to having a mature discussion about it. You two agreed that you'd see them a little less, and, she'd stop complaining about them as much. Her point wasn't irrational, she says that these demons were horrible influences for you. This is hell, after all, you couldn't argue with that. But it was also the best you could be getting in terms of friends in hell, so, the compromise was thus reached.

Or...

The reader is a strong demon!

Her worries are eased by the knowledge of your power, she'd be lying if she said she didn't find it the least bit attractive. Seeing you stand up to vox or any other overlord, while both you, her and the overlord knew you could probably beat them in a fight, was so... entertaining, to the both of you. Your social footing also didn't allow you to be attached at the hip with her, which upset her. At least she knew you were safe!

You two were an absolute power duo, with you being openly in a relationship to the public or not, all of social media couldn't shut up about the two of you. She loved watching edits of you both online, but she'd never tell you that. If you were to peek into her phone, various tabs and apps are opened on discussion boards where hundreds of demons exclaimed their want to be in either her's or your position. It made her feel powerful to see how much people wanted you, however weird that may seem. It didn't make her the least bit jealous, no; knowing that she is the one that caught your undivided attention and love while hundreds others would kill to be in her position felt good. Though, she already knew she was desired, so, the ego boost from posts that said "I wish I was velvette right here（´ 3｀)" attached to a picture of you holding her waist as you held out a flower for her with a smile brought her far more satisfaction than the ones where people wanted to be you.

Being able to use the "do you know who we are??" Argument whenever something didnt go the way you two pleased was basically an automatic response from her. She is very powerful on her own, but loves the scary dog privileges you bring along.

Never the matter of which category the reader is, please do compliment her on her designs! Approval and praise have always been a driving force in her life, but, she didn't really care for people's opinions as much, because she doesnt care about who those people are! She's a devout follower of the "I won't take criticism from someone who isn't contributing for my life" mindset. What are those people doing for her? Giving her money? Organizing her bedroom? Didn't think so.

But you? Gosh you were the summer in the coldest of winters! Being with you brought Velvette so much joy, it was no wonder your opinion mattered.

The fashion in hell took a noticeable turn for whatever you enjoy after you started dating her ahaha:)) being it a different color scheme or you for whatever reason really liking 80's exercise sets with those ridiculously large leg warmers, within the mountains of red beautiful elegant dresses she made, a pop of other colors could be spotted. If you were out to the public, she would proudly announce that you were her muse for the piece, praises of how innovative the style was amidst the current fashion of the Pride ring. Needless to say, with all of her praise about it, the clothes you inspired sold out much quicker than others.

Giving her little gifts and such made her quite happy. She loved expensive, beautiful rings and jewelry and all things shiny, but, what really got to her were the things you made or that reminded you of her. You baked cupcakes based off of her looks? AGH! That is SO adorable! Expect it to be posted all over her social media profiles that very same day. You drew her in a dress you came up with yourself because her work inspired you so much? She might just actually die again. Even if you're a horrible designer, she will still be so flattered.

-

Oh well! What are your thoughts? Also, I'm thinking about starting to use my actual account to send asks, mainly because I am an artist and made more than one piece inspired by your wonderful works, and I'd love to share them with you. Do you think I should?

I might also send things about sir pentious, vox, lucifer, husk, basically everyone haha! I actually have some things about mimzy in mind. But, most scary of all, I am madly in love with the absolute scumbag we call Adam. Hopefully you don't mind hearing the most deranged thoughts I have regarding him ahaha x-)) maybe I'll even convince you to write for that loser! Who knows.

I await your insight :)))

- a very excited 🫶 anon

OH MY GOD? 🫶 ANON YOU’VE STRUCK GOLD ONCE AGAIN! There’s so much to unpack here oh my gosh where do I start?

I love how protective Velvette is over a weak reader. Her possessiveness is written in a very in-character way. Because I do think she would be incredibly possessive but I don’t think she would fully understand how possessive she was being, like she would just think this is the correct way to react simply because it’s how she thought to react. Of course she’d lighten up as much as she could after a serious talk, just as you said.

I also think that Velvette with a strong reader is soooo interesting oh my god. Like the power couple you two would be, OH AND WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT THE EDITS? Absolutely. She would eat that shit up, and definitely feed the public with cute photos and videos of you two. Oh and when you said she finds the readers power attractive, oh yea she does. Shes incredibly turned on, to say the least. All of her models and workers kiss her ass so much, that the fact you don’t kneel down to Velvette like everyone else literally does something to her.

Also I absolutely adore the words of affirmations and gift giving love language as the ones she likes to receive. Gift giving is 100% for her like she eats that shit up. To be honest, still think she appreciates an acts of service reader BUT words of affirmation is an interesting one for sure. It takes a long time, and I mean a long time, for someone to earn her respect. But when this happens, there opinion of her starts to actually matter, which is obviously a kind of rare thing. So she so loves compliments and praise and lots of things to feed her ego.

Anyways, those are my thoughts on the Velvette headcanons! I eat your writing up every time!

NOW ONTO THE OTHER THINGS!!

So let me start off by saying, I am SO INCREDIBLY, STUPENDOUSLY, TOTALLY interested in your thoughts on the other characters, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Husk, Vox, Adam, etc. I’m specifically interested in your thoughts on Mimzy because even though she’s on my characters list, I don’t have many thoughts on her myself. So I am very curious as to what you’re thinking.

Also very close to writing for Adam, but I’d love for you to try to convince me.

ALSO about you using and actual account to send asks, GO FOR IT!!??? WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT BEING AN ARTIST… oh boy i’m intrigued. AND YOU’VE MADE THINGS INSPIRED BY MY WORKS? Don’t make me blush, babes, oh my god??!!

“Your fluff smells of coconut dish soap and freshly cleaned clothes, but without fabric softener because you're efficient and know that fabric softener is a scam.”

I LOVE YOU. SPECIFIC COMPLIMENTS LIKE THIS ARE EVERYTHING TO ME. HAVE THE BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE, YOUR AMAZING.

THIS IS BIMBO, SIGNING OFF.

[hard-core-super-star]

Ngl, being able to edit things here is cool, other media don't have this option so all you have to do is delete or slowly die every time you remember that mistake🥲

WELL– in that case it would be really fun to see Yelena just being a big softie to reader and end up getting caught by her friends doing so, then everyone would make fun of her or something (it would probably be their last time making fun of something in their lives, poor souls.

I saw that you still have things to write, so no hurry (and good luck with all this-). Also, Your writing is really good so it will be good anyway, but I'm sure you'll get it!

passive-aggressive magic tricks [Y.Belova]

pairing: yelena belova x reader

summary: a fun game night with your friends takes a turn when they realize how much of a soft dork the russian turns into when she's around you.

warnings: none, i think [except peter being verbally attacked every other paragraph lmao]; so much dialogue; a weirdly written game of uno; just...so much chaos; never written for yelena before so feel free to yell at me if she's too ooc in this one

wordcount: 1.2k

a/n: this gif makes me feel things gonna start this off by saying that this is meant to be romantic but you can read it as platonic if you want. i know everyone has an opinion on yelena's sexuality and not everyone will agree with mine and that's okay! [just don't be a jerk about it. i personally think yelena is a demiromantic asexual so do with that what you will] ALSO, this is so chaotic and borderline nonsensical and you can blame 🌟 for making me think about yelena playing uno that one time. ALSO ALSO, thank you for the vote of confidence, lovely anon, this was actually really fun to write and i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“This sucks,” Kate declares with a pout.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, Kate Bishop.” Yelena’s words only make the archer’s pout deepen which makes the whole situation feel even more ridiculous.

“Yeah, Kate,” you jump in. “You’re the one who started talking shit in the first place.”

An offended gasp escapes her lips at your accusation. “I wasn’t talking shit! I was being honest about my skills.”

This time, Peter cuts in before the blonde gets a chance to make fun of the archer again. “Guys, I thought we decided against Monopoly so we wouldn’t fight.”

“Fighting is Yelena’s love language,” you reply with a shrug.

You pretend not to notice the way the Russian’s lips quirk up into a small smile and instead focus on Kate and her awful decision-making skills. It takes her a few extra seconds and she still manages to choose the most annoying card in her hand.

“It took you two minutes to throw in a plus-four?” Peter questions, clearly doing his best to not sound judgemental.

“Shut up and take the cards, Pete.”

The boy grumbles something you don’t quite catch but Kate is quick to punch him in the arm, earning herself a kick to the shin. Their dynamic is certainly…interesting and you can’t stop yourself from wondering how much of it comes from being two only children attempting to one-up each other.

Yelena leans in toward you, pretending to whisper. “Why are we hanging out with them again?”

The pair clearly overhears her considering both the glare and the pout that gets thrown your way. You merely shrug in response, attempting to shield your cards from her expert gaze. “It’s…entertaining, I guess.”

“You guys are jerks,” Kate says, speaking the thoughts Peter is far too nice to vocalize. (It’s definitely not because he’s terrified of getting on Yelena’s bad side.)

“And you suck at Uno.”

She rolls her eyes at you but decides not to reply. The small moment of silence allows Peter to take his turn and the game continues…until Yelena decides to betray you.

You’re not fully paying attention to the strategies each one of your companions is forming which means you don’t realize it when they decide to team up against you.

You’re only four cards away from winning and the blonde beside you can’t stop herself from sneaking a look at your deck. Kate somehow manages to catch her in the act and the two stare each other down until the archer raises an eyebrow, silently asking to be a part of the Russian’s plan.

A plan that quickly leads to Kate placing down another plus-four card and Peter being thrown one of Yelena’s under the table. 

“We can stack, right?” He asks, mainly in an attempt to keep you from noticing what they’re doing.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply with a shrug. “Just don’t be surprised when Yelena pulls out a knife from her boot.”

The joke gets a few chuckles, and a slightly concerned look from the young Avenger. 

“Do not worry, Spider-Boy, I promised y/n I wouldn’t threaten you…again.”

“Right…” Peter’s clearly not convinced but he throws in his card anyway.

You turn to face Yelena with a smug smirk. “Sorry, babe, but it looks like I’m on my way to winning this round.”

“You sound like Kate Bishop.” She playfully rolls her eyes at you but the glint in her eyes shows off more amusement than annoyance. “I hope you handle losing better than she does, though.”

“Hey!” You and the archer both voice your protests, albeit for different reasons, as the blonde slams down the last plus-four card needed to ensure you won’t win any time soon.

This time around, she’s the one who looks at you with a smug grin but you’re too busy being dramatic to fully appreciate how good she looks when she’s being competitive. It’s genuinely just a stupid card game and yet you pull out all the tricks you’ve learned over the past few months to get the Russian to melt into the huge softie she is at heart.

“Oh, come on, that was mean.” You pull on your best impression of Kate’s wounded puppy dog look. A look that includes slightly wide eyes and an incredibly deep pout.

A pout Yelena has never been good at resisting. (But only when it comes to you, much to the archer’s dismay)

She, literally and figuratively, keeps her cards close to her chest but you catch the way her free hand twitches slightly, almost as if she’s fighting to keep herself from touching you. It’s strange how affectionate she wants to be with you when she’s always been the first to pull away from a hug, the first one to scoot away when someone sits too close. 

Being guarded had always felt like second nature to her until you came along.

Her hand reaches out before she can stop it, landing on your knee and giving it a soft yet reassuring squeeze. It's a subtle reminder that underneath all her sarcasm and the rough edges, she cares about you. A lot more than she ever thought herself capable of.

“It’s just a game, sweetheart.” The words are a mere whisper but somehow the person with the worst attention span you’ve ever seen manages to overhear them.

“Did you just call y/n ‘sweetheart’?” Kate blurts out, clearly far too shocked to worry about her safety. “You actually have feelings?”

“Wait, did she really say that?” Peter’s slightly more cautious but there’s both awe in curiosity shining in his brown eyes.

“I heard her!”

“I think you hit your head too hard on your last mission, Bishop,” you reply, trying to steer the conversation away the second Yelena starts glaring at your friends.

Despite all her other skills, Kate is still awful at reading the room so instead of accepting the safety you’re offering, she decides to be stubborn like always. “Don’t lie to me, y/n, I know what I heard. Yelena’s just a big-”

“A big what?” The blonde cuts in with the most threatening glare she can manage. Which, considering she’s an ex-assassin, is quite effective at shutting the archer up.

“Um…” You can practically see the wheels spinning in the brunette’s head as she tries to come up with something different to say. She clearly fails based on the words that come out. “A big softie..?”

“Oh, Kate,” you sigh. “You’re never going to learn to stop poking the bear, huh?”

“What do you mean?” 

Her confusion lasts for about a second before Yelena shoots up from the couch and lunges toward her. The archer gets the message pretty quickly after that, expertly ducking out of the way and taking off running in the direction of the bathroom.

All you can do is laugh and shake your head as the Russian chases after her. “Go easy on her, babe!”

“Yeah, Yelena, listen to your girlfriend!”

“Kate!” You and the Russian yell out at the same time, leading to a fit of giggles belonging to the biggest instigator you've ever met.

"So much for a chill game night," Peter mumbles, placing his cards onto the coffee table. "You're gonna go help Kate out, right?"

You shrug. "I'll think about it."

[kelcemenow]

Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 8.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1391

Warnings Some angsty vibes here, but it's going to get better, I swear!

Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I’ve tried my best with this one! “I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!”

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

"Are you sure you're okay?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes, "Travis, I'm fine. I'm just tired."

He stared at you as thoroughly as he could through his phone screen. Faint wrinkles between his eyes deepened as his eyes narrowed. He hummed quietly before laying further back on his bed, his elbows elevating his torso, "Your Dad seemed pretty happy tonight."

You forced a smile, your chest still panging with hurt, "Yeah, thank you for doing all of this, he had a blast."

"And you?"

You paused, a little longer than you should've, "Yeah, it was great."

Luckily, Travis had rolled across the bed to grab the charger for his phone and didn't pick up on your disheartened expression, "I'm still pissed you wouldn't let the team doctor check you over."

"Travis, I really appreciate that you're concerned for me, I am. But honestly, it wasn't necessary."

He sucked his teeth and shook his head, "It's crazy though, there's gotta be a reason you passed out."

You avoided his gaze, adjusting the folds of your bedsheet.

"Anyway baby, I'm tired. I think I'm going to hit the hay, okay?"

Nodding your head gently, you could feel your body yearning to yawn, "Yeah, me too."

"But I'll call you in the morning?"

"Sure."

You watched as his eyes creased into a sweet smile, "G'night, babygirl."

Your stomach fluttered as his left eye quickly closed into a charming wink. It seemed travis had a talent for making you melt, no matter the situation.

"Goodnight, Travis."

The phone display returned to your home screen, a black and white photo of you and your Dad when you were younger. You must have been around 9 or 10 years old and were wearing one of his work t-shirts, splotches of grease and oil covering most of the fabric. He was leaning over the hood of his car and you were stood on a stool in front of him, holding a large tool in your tiny hand. You recognised his battered baseball cap adorning his head as one of your own now, something he gave you when you took on part of his business. 'A good luck charm', he said. Your chest swelled with love before melancholy set in. The opinions of other people had never bothered you in the past, especially the opinions of complete strangers. You had always been confident in yourself and you valued hard work and kindness over appearances. But now here you were, overthinking and distracted by the online comments of people you didn't know.

You laid back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling, shadows forming swirled patterns across the white paint. Taking a few deep breaths, you glanced across to the digital clock on your nightstand before feeling your eyelids droop lower and lower with each breath.

______________________________________________________________

Music blasted from the small radio you had perched on top of the exposed engine. Your head was buried under the hood, fingers tinkering at greased bolts and pipes as the sounds of the garage were overpowered by Whitney Houston.

"Y/N!" A deep voice yelled out from behind you.

Your body jerked as the noise disturbed your focus. Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed Jordan standing 20 yards or so away from you, his eyes avoiding yours.

"Yes?" You said impatiently, without changing your stance, a clear sign that you weren't interested in a lengthy conversation with him.

"I don't know if you're busy or..."

"Yeah, I am."

"Right." Jordan turned away for a second before spinning around and taking a few steps closer to you, "You know, it's just that it's obvious that other people think the same as I do."

You stood up straight, your shoulders tightening, "Excuse me?"

"I just don't think that you and Travis are a good match for each other." His feet were planted on the floor but his knees were twitching, his hands nervously fidgeting in his washed out denim jeans, "And I know I shouldn't have behaved the way I did the other night, but I was just in shock to see him there, you know? He's a pretty big deal, and you...you're just a-"

"Is this supposed to be an apology?"

Jordan sighed, his hands moving up to his temples, "I just think you would be better suited with someone else."

You laid down the spanner that you had been firmly gripping, the clang ringing out through the garage and capturing everyone's attention, "Someone else? Someone else like you, you mean?"

"Y/N, that's not what I'm saying-"

"What are you saying, then?

Jordan's gaze drifted to the floor, "I...I don't really know."

You took a step towards him, "Exactly. You don't know what you're saying. So, let me give you a clue. Who I date is none of your business, Jordan. It is actually none of yours, or anyone else's business."

You could see heads turning in your peripheral, but all that you could feel was the heat quickly rising in your chest and adrenaline speeding through your veins. Jordan stood with his mouth open, as if he was about to speak but even if he wanted to, you were reluctant to give him the chance.

"So, just...stay out of it, okay?" You waved your hand before rushing over to the bathroom, the wooden door slamming shut behind you.

Your shaking hands reached for the white basin, fingers gripping the smooth, cool, porcelain as you looked up into the mirror. You gritted your teeth as you attempted to hold your composure for a few seconds before you crumbled, tears travelling down your cheeks quickly. The clangs of the garage were muffled in the distance behind your occasional sobs, but you ran the tap just in case anyone could hear you.

Your reflection stared back at you, the skin under your eyes shiny from tears. As your breathing slowed and you took back control of your emotions, you grabbed your hair behind your head and tied it back with a small scrunchie that was snug on your wrist. Wiping your face, you inhaled deeply before a gentle knock on the bathroom door made you jump slightly.

"Uhh, there's someone in here." Your emotionally charged voice gurgled.

"It's Dad."

You looked around the small restroom, for nothing in particular, before flushing the toilet, "I'll just...I'll just be a minute." You called out, grabbing a hand towel and desperately dabbing your face.

There was a short moment of silence on the other side of the door as your Dad waited for the sound of rushing water to cease.

"He's gotten under your skin, hasn't he?"

"Jordan? I couldn't care less about what Jordan thinks." You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and brushed down your overalls, "I don't-"

"I meant Travis."

You turned towards the door, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Forgive me for saying this, and I know I don't really know much about your dating life-" He let out a chuckle, "-but I've seen a change in you. A good change."

You reached for the door handle, "Really?"

"You seem happier." You could hear a smile in your Dad's voice, "Today aside, of course."

As you gently turned the handle and opened the door, his face came into view, his cheek pressed to the door frame, desperate to comfort you. You exhaled a smile as his eyes scanned your face, "I am happy."

"So, what's this?" He gestured to your eyes.

You shook your head, "It's stupid, really. I saw some comments on a picture of me and Travis online and then Jordan just-"

"And since when did you care what people thought?"

You blinked, "I don't."

Your Dad pushed the door open further and placed his hands on both of your shoulders, "So, what's the problem?"

You giggled, "I don't know."

"I think I know." He winked with a grin.

You lowered your brows again, your lips tightening into a coy smile.

"You like the guy!" He shook you gently, "And I don't blame you. But I have to be honest here, he's the lucky one to have you, sport."

You looked down at your feet, your cheeks flushing with red.

"So, fuck what everybody else thinks!"

"Daddy!" Your head snapped up, your eyes wide at your Dad's uncharacteristic cursing, which was something exclusively reserved for watching football games.

"Go get him."

______________________________________________________________

I think I've got my groove back!

This series will be finishing soonish and then I'll get onto the one-shot requests list that I have sitting in my notes app...which is quite a few!

Anyway, I hope you like this next chapter, it's not too dramatic but it's setting up the finale! If you want to be added to my Taglist, just let me know!

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[atlasofthestaars]

Can you write something where the reader is sick, and their love interest Smoke helps take care of them? Thank you!

NOTE: IM SO SORRY HOW LONG THIS TOOK ANON </3 ITS FINALLY HERE

Tried to make this lighthearted and funny!

Sorry this is really short (or short for how long you waited for this) </3 I wanted to finally get this out and I couldn’t think of much to extend this

SICK DAYS [SMOKE X READER]

Colds were perhaps the worst thing ever.

Okay, you were being dramatic. You’d never admit that outloud, and especially in this state, but you were. They definitely weren’t the worst thing ever, but you loathe being sick. It sucked the life out of you, it made you miserable, and everyone wanted to avoid you. Not to mention, even after the worst is over, you’d be left with sniffles and coughs for an unreasonable amount of time.

Why couldn’t being sick just be a one day deal? It was all too easy to get sick anyways, one tiny mistake then you were suddenly down on your luck and getting sick. It didn’t help that you were staying in possibly the worst place right now to deal with a cold. The Lin Kuei temple was not the best place with its freezing temperatures to recover from a cold. 

Haha, cold. Cruel irony.

Grumbling, you sighed as you pulled the covers over yourself, curling into a tight ball as you closed your eyes. This way, you’d be warmer. And then maybe, just maybe, you could sleep and wake up and suddenly be better. It was definitely wishful thinking, but it was better than nothing.

Sadly, your plan was thwarted in a matter of minutes.

The door of your room opened, shining the light leaking in from the hallway directly on your face. You flinched at the sudden change in light, a frown tugging harder at your lips. It was as if the elder gods were mocking you. They enjoyed your pain, surely. 

You squinted open your eyes, nearly hissing at the light. Your grumpiness was somewhat quelled as you noticed just who was the figure who had decided to disrupt your attempt to hibernate your way into wellness. 

Tomas, the light of your life. Not that he knew it, nor did you ever mention it to him.

You blinked, focusing on his form which was being outlined by the light outside. By the elder gods, it was making him look like an angel. Not that you didn’t think he wasn’t an angel already, but now he especially looked like one. Especially when you spotted the things he was carrying in his hands.

Water and soup. 

Nevermind, maybe the elder gods were blessing you today. Maybe they pitied your sickly state, so they sent an angel to nurse you back to health. Surely that must be it.

“Are you feeling better?” Tomas asked as he set down the bowl of soup and water on the nightstand. He then knelt next to your bed. You tried to take a sniff of the soup, before remembering sorrowfully that your nostrils were clogged. You mourned the loss of smell, suddenly. 

“I think I’m dying.” You croaked out, using your status as a sick person to be even more dramatic than usual. It was a treat to yourself, to help you cope with your status. You groaned as you shifted in bed, wanting the pain of being sick to end already. You glanced at the soup and water, before glancing back at Smoke to see his reaction.

“You wouldn’t be dying if you didn’t go out in the snow like I warned you not to.” Tomas chided you, yet at the same time he had a smile on his face, and a playful note to his voice. You stared at his face, making sure to commit it to memory. It was going to be one of the few things that was going to get you through this sickness.

Or the last thing you remembered before you passed away from this illness like a sickly Victorian child.

“Well I’m not a coward.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you recalled how you had brazenly rushed out into the snow. You were too overjoyed by the snowfall to bundle up. Plus, you weren’t out there for too long, you assumed nothing was going to happen to you.

Maybe pride was your downfall. 

“But you are sick now.” Tomas quipped back, raising his eyebrows to emphasize his point. You grumbled, not thinking of a proper comeback to his statement. You blinked in surprise as you felt his hand brush over your forehead. You were glad your face was already flushed from sickness so your blush didn’t stick out. “Seems you don’t have a fever.” 

“Yeah.” You said, stunned for a moment as you recalled his gentle touch as he retracted his hand. You didn’t care how warm your sickness was making you feel, you missed the soft warmth from his hand. You cleared your throat as you glanced at the bowl. “So, what type of soup did you bring?” You asked, all too curious.

You were shocked to hear it was your favorite soup. He had brought you your favorite soup when you were sick to make you feel better. You closed your eyes for a second, to thank the elder gods above that you had met this man.

If it weren’t for your sickness, you’d kiss the man.

That, and well, you were too much of a coward to tell him your feelings. 

“Did you hear me?” You were taken out of your stupor, looking at the man as you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to recall if you had processed what he said. You were thankful he was patient as he repeated himself. “Are you well enough to feed yourself?”

“What.”

“Come on, sit up.” He urged you. Confused, you sat up. You reached out to grab the stack of tissues on your nightstand and blew into it. While you didn’t find it dignified to blow your stuffy nose in front of your crush, you found it was far less embarrassing than to drip snot in front of him. You grimaced as you tossed the tissue into the trash can. As you looked up, you were surprised to see a spoon of your favorite soup hovering in front of your face. “Here.”

“Huh.” You said, dumbfounded. Maybe the sickness was taking your intelligence too, because it felt like right now all you could muster were confused sounds and words. You blinked as you watched Tomas nod towards you, gently lifting the spoon closer to your mouth. Panicking, you leaned forward and ate the soup.

How is it that him being here made your favorite soup just a bit better?

“Good.” Tomas praised, and you felt yourself flush at the simple word. Does he know how much you adored him? No, and you doubted how much even these simple actions meant to you. Happily, he seemed to urge you to eat more, and you complied. You were not going to pass up on this opportunity to bask in his attention. “You know, I worry for you, sometimes. No one in their right mind would normally run into the snow like that.”

“I’m not a fragile baby.” You huffed stubbornly, sniffing. Yet on the inside you were fawning. He worried for you. Maybe it’s because he thought you were insane, but he worried for you! That had to mean something, right? The gray clad man shot you a look, and you pouted. “Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean anything.”

“Uh huh.” Smoke replied, sass in his tone. Still, he gave you a radiant smile as he continued to feed you soup. You felt on top of the world. If only you didn’t feel miserable otherwise, you’d consider getting sick more often so you could bask in his attention.

You glanced at Smoke’s face.

Nevermind, you would gladly trade your health if you could continue to be pampered by this man.

You had several blissful minutes of Smoke feeding you soup. As you finished the bowl, he let out a satisfied hum as he set the emptied bowl on the nightstand next to you. You also drank more from the glass of water he brought.

You were feeling a bit better already! Or maybe that was just the effect Smoke had on you. You weren’t certain which one it was. Maybe it was both.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” Tomas said, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You were so, so lucky to know this man. You inhaled, holding your breath as he pressed his hand to your forehead again. His touch lingered longer this time. And you weren’t sure if you were being delusional or not when you swore his thumb brushed your cheek. “Good, no fever.” He murmured, though you weren’t sure why he checked again.

Still, with the way he was looking at you, you had no room to question or complain about that. Certainly he just wanted to make sure you were feeling better. 

You sat there, taking in the sight of Tomas. His warm, gray eyes. His nice, fluffy hair that you always had to hold yourself back from playing with. Your eyes traced over his cheekbones down to his chin, and for the most briefest of seconds, you gazed at his lips.

Why did you have to be sick!?

“Did you take any medicine yet?” He asked, peering at you curiously. You froze, completely forgetting that medicine was a thing. You had just been planning on honestly sleeping this stupid sickness off. Medicine would have definitely helped.

“Uh, no.” You admit, sheepishly. You watched as Smoke playfully rolled his eyes before pulling out a small bottle from his pocket. 

“Good thing I brought some for you.” Smoke said, an almost smug tone in his voice. He poured out two pills, and glanced at you. “I know you too well.” He shook the bottle in his hand as if to emphasize the point.

There was something all too sweet in his voice that made you want to swoon and fall into his arms.

He held out his hand, the two small pills in his palms. Quickly, you reached for them. You ignored the rising heat to your face as your hand brushed his. You really, really wanted to hold his hand. They felt warm and soft.

You felt his expectant eyes on you as you reached for the last of your water. You popped the two pills in your mouth, and you quickly tilted your head back as you took a mouthful of water. You swiftly swallowed, and you let out a sigh as the pills disappeared into your stomach.

“Thank you, Tomas.” You croaked out, and immediately wanted to slap yourself for. Why did your voice have to give out on you on what was supposed to be such a heartfelt moment? Your worries all melted away as he shot you the most beautiful grin you’ve seen in your life.

“Anything for you.” Tomas said, his voice gentle and soft. He said your name with reverence, as if you were the most important thing. He grabbed your hand. And held it carefully between his own. Your eyes dropped to his hand holding, and it felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You weren’t sure if you could pass off the heat on your cheeks as you simply being sick.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Snapping out of your daze, you looked up to see Smoke’s intent gaze on you. You opened your mouth, trying to come up with the correct answer. You certainly couldn’t say that you were too busy swooning over the man to hear what he said. But you couldn’t just say anything because then it’d be obvious you hadn’t been paying attention.

And yet, it didn’t matter.

“You’re too cute.” Tomas said softly, and you suddenly wondered if you had been dreaming all this all this time. Getting up, he leaned over and gently pressed a featherlight kiss onto your forehead. He then drew back with a soft smile. “Get some rest, okay?” He murmured, cupping your cheek gently, rubbing his thumb against it before letting go.

You watched wordlessly as he gathered the bowl and water glass. He turned around and sent you another sweet smile. And you swore in his eyes he had the hint of the smuggest attitude you’ve ever seen on him as he looked you up and down.

He must know how much you adored him. That bastard.

As the door closed, you sat in silence as your face continued to burn. Your heart was beating far too fast for what was healthy for a sick person. You lifted your hand to brush against where his lips had met your forehead, and you felt like you were falling in love all over.

Maybe being sick wasn’t so bad.

“Look who’s the reckless one, now?”

You grinned as you entered Tomas’ room, a bowl of soup and a glass of water in your hands. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the eye roll he sent you as he blew his nose. Still, he sent you a weak smile as he laid in his bed. He didn’t catch your sickness as bad as you, but he was still sick regardless. Bumping into the door, you closed it as you approached him.

“Maybe it was reckless, but the look on your face was worth it.” Smoke said, a hint of smugness in his voice as he smiled at you. You scoffed, but you knew you couldn’t even fake being mad at this man. Setting down the bowl of soup and the water, you sat on his bed beside him.

“Was it worth it?” 

“Anything is worth it if it involves you.”

Sighing dreamily, you cupped his cheek as you leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his lips. You marveled as his face bloomed into a soft pink. He held your hand in place, leaning into your soft touch. Your heart skipped a beat.

“I don’t think you should be kissing sick people.” Smoke teased, his eyes squinting at you as his eyebrows raised. You rolled your eyes. Raising your hand, you pinched his other cheek, eliciting an exaggerated ‘ouch’ from the man.

“Says you.” You huffed, pouting. 

“My bad.” Tomas chuckled. “I really couldn’t resist though.” He admitted as he looked up at you. Why did he have to have the dreamiest eyes in all of Earthrealm? You returned his smile, rubbing his cheek gently with your thumb. 

Yeah, getting sick wasn’t so bad after all.

[captainsophiestark]

Not A Relationship Guy

Tristan Flynn x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requeted by Anon! This is the Tristan Flynn part of "Az or Flynn" lol. Thanks again for enabling me to write about my faves! Hope you like it! Also, Happy Valentine's Day everybody!

Fandom: Crescent City

Summary: Bryce's good friend from Nidaros has moved to Crescent City with her, and quickly made an impression on a certain fae lord. But she's not interested in a one-night stand, and Flynn has made it clear before that he's not really a relationship guy.

Word Count: 5,252

Category: Angst, Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

When I'd first come to Crescent City, I hadn't known anyone other than Bryce. We'd grown up together in Nidaros, and now as adults, we'd maintained our close friendship even after she moved away. About a month ago, I'd joined her, following her move to the big city. I'd been terrified and out of my depth, with Bryce as my only connection in the massive metropolis. Now, I stood shoulder to shoulder with the top ranking members of the Fae Aux, screaming as we spectated the end of a beer pong game in the middle of a massive house party.

Things had certainly changed.

Declan and his boyfriend Marc stood on one side of the table, competing against a few people I didn't know. I was still relatively new, although my circle had expanded thanks to Bryce. Dec and Marc only had one cup left on their opponent's side, and then the game would be theirs.

The whole room screamed, a mix of heckling and encouragement, as Dec lined up his shot. Bryce hung off my neck, stone cold sober but shouting like the drunkest one in the crowd, which made me smile. Finally, after an extra moment's pause, Dec let the ball fly.

A moment later, it splashed into the cup, making Marc and Dec the winners.

The room erupted into cheers, no matter if people were rooting for or against Dec. A shot like that had to be appreciated.

The other team got a chance at redemption, but couldn't manage to get all of Marc and Dec's cups without missing. The game officially ended, with Marc and Dec's ten game win streak remaining unbroken.

"Boo!" came a loud voice, stepping through the crowd to the side of the table the losers had just vacated. Tristan Flynn stood tall, heckling his best friend across the table. "Somebody needs to take you two down!"

"Somebody just tried, Flynn!" Dec called back. "And you tried a few rounds ago, too. We're untouchable."

He and Marc did a little celebration, and Flynn rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that was with Ruhn as my partner. I just need a better partner, and then you two are done." His eyes turned to scan the crowd, landing immediately on Brcye.

"Quinlan-"

"Nope. No interest in being your teammate, Flynn."

He put a hand to his chest, mock hurt. "You wound me, Quinlan."

Bryce rolled her eyes. "You'll live. Besides, you're in luck. I happen to have the perfect partner for you."

Flynn raised an eyebrow in question at the same time Bryce gave me a hard shove forward. I turned to glare at her, but she just grinned back and gave me a little 'shoo' gesture. I narrowed my eyes at her even further, but turned back to Flynn anyway.

He watched me with a skeptical gaze. We'd gotten to know each other a little since I'd come to Lunathion, and we generally got along. That didn't make him trust me as a beer pong partner, though.

"Are you any good at pong, sweetheart?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I guess you're gonna find out."

With that, I turned from Flynn to quickly rerack the cups before picking up one of the balls on the table. I turned to Dec and Marc, waiting for one of them to do the same so we could shoot for who went first. They shared a look, then Dec stepped up, grinning at me as he prepared. I could feel Flynn hovering over my shoulder, but I ignored him as Dec and I locked eyes.

"Eye... to... eye," we said in sync, not looking away from each others' eyes as we let our first shots fly. I sank mine, but unfortunately, so did Dec.

I turned to Flynn. He didn't look impressed, exactly, but the wary skepticism had been replaced by a small, crooked smile.

"You're up," I said simply. Flynn didn't hesitate before stepping up to the table and going through the same procedure Dec and I had just done, but with Marc shooting opposite him. Like me, Flynn splashed his into a cup, but Marc's shot narrowly missed and bounced off into the crowd.

I let up a whooping cheer and high-fived Flynn, who was full-on grinning now. Marc and Dec just shook their heads.

"That means nothing," Dec called across the table. "You're both still toast."

"Yeah yeah, talk is cheap," I shot back. "Toss the other ball over here and let's get this upset on the road."

The game was truly a battle for the ages. The majority of the crowd had quickly rallied behind Flynn and I, since Dec and Marc had been dominating for far too long. They continued to sink shot after shot, but so did we. We held our own, using trash talk and head games and anything else we could think of to our advantage as the game went on.

I wasn't normally a super quiet person or anything, but since I'd been new to town and not in any party scenarios with Bryce's friends before this, I hadn't been ridiculously loud either. Now, however, I screamed, cheered, and jeered at the top of my lungs. With every celebration of success and mocking of the other team's misfortune, I caught Flynn staring at me more and more, an appraising look in his eye. I mostly ignored him, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a warm feeling in my chest when he grinned at me.

We both stayed focused and at the top of our games until, finally, each team only had one cup left. Marc and Dec had briefly pulled ahead, but Flynn had knocked out one of their cups to tie it. Now, the game rested on me.

"C'mon, you can do this!" shouted Flynn, putting his hands on my shoulders and jumping around a little to hype me up. I nodded, then turned to line up my shot as Flynn stepped back.

Marc and Dec were screaming, waving their hands everywhere to try and throw me off. The crowd screamed and the music blared, but I blocked it all out. I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, my eyes laser-focused on the cup ahead.

Without giving myself time to second guess, I brought my arm forward and let the ball fly. A second later, it landed with a splash in the final cup of Marc and Dec.

"YES!" roared Flynn, and a moment later my feet had left the ground. He'd wrapped his arms around my waist and picked me up in celebration. I laughed, absolutely beaming as Flynn set me down again.

"Alright, alright, it's not over yet!" Marc reminded us, bringing us out of the moment. "We get redemption shots."

"Even if you drag us into overtime, we're untouchable now," Flynn called. Our opponents ignored him, even as I joined Flynn's heckling and the two of us did everything we could think of to distract or psych out our opponents.

Marc shot first, and he missed. Me, Flynn, and apparently everyone else in the room held our breaths as Dec shook out his arm, then lined up his shot. Flynn and I waved our hands around, jumped up and down, and shouted things we thought might distract Dec, moving perfectly in sync like we'd been a team our whole life. Finally, Dec let the ball fly.

Flynn and I ripped our hands back to avoid any accidental interference that would cost us the game, and a split second later, Dec's ball bounced off the rim of our last cup. I reacted like lightning. According to the rules, once it hit the cup, it was fair game. I smacked it out of the way, off the table and into the crowd, before it could fall one way or the other.

"NO!" wailed Dec, sinking to his knees dramatically across the table.

"YES!" Flynn and I screamed in sync, and he picked me up again and spun me around. He put me down a moment later, still beaming, hands still around my waist. Our eyes locked, both caught up in the moment of euphoria, and he leaned towards me just a bit. I smiled, squeezing his arm but turning away to where Marc and Dec were still going through the stages of grief across the table.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kiss Flynn. But I also knew he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. The three different females I'd seen him make out with throughout the party tonight were testament to that. I didn't want to just kiss him and then try to pretend to go back to normal as friends the next day, so instead, I focused on the euphoria of our win.

Flynn let the moment pass, too, as we gloated over Marc and Dec's defeat. Finally, after significant whining and complaining, they wandered off and another pair stepped up to challenge me and Flynn. We ran the table for the better part of an hour before stepping away to do other things, our win streak still intact.

I stayed at the party with Bryce for a little while longer, dancing and laughing the night away. Flynn joined us for basically all of it, making a point of paying attention to me, talking and laughing with me. He toed the line of flirting more often than not, and never wandered to other parts of the party even though Bryce spent significant time roasting him every chance she got. When she and I finally left the party just after two in the morning, we only got a few steps from the frat house before she turned to me.

"Alright, spill. What's going on with you and Flynn?"

I laughed, gently bumping my shoulder into hers as we walked. "Nothing's going on, Bryce. He's a friend, that's it."

"I've seen how he acts around his friends, and that's not it. I know you're new, but you must've noticed the difference too."

I sighed. "Yeah, I have. And I won't lie, Bryce, he's great. He's funny, I like talking to him and spending time with him. Obviously he's gorgeous. But based on everything I've seen from him, he's not interested in an actual relationship with somebody. Likewise, I'm not interested in making out with somebody at a party and having that be the end of it. So I think it's best if we just stay friends."

Bryce nodded thoughtfully, letting a comfortable silence rest over us for a few blocks as we walked side by side. I thought that was the end of it, but then she chimed in again.

"I've never seen him keep flirting with somebody as long as he did with you tonight. Normally if he hasn't gotten what he wanted in about twenty minutes, he moves on."

I didn't respond. I mean, what was I supposed to say? I wasn't sure Bryce really knew what she was trying to say either, and a second later, she moved on with a curse. I looked at her in question, and she sighed.

"I just got a text from Jesiba. I have to go into work in the morning."

I winced in sympathy, then let Bryce complain to me the rest of the way home. I fell into bed after promising her some kind of baked good when she got home tomorrow to help her get through the work day, and figured that would be the last of the discussion on things with Flynn.

I was very, very wrong.

For the next few weeks, whenever I did any activity that included Flynn, he took every opportunity he got to flirt with me. I never reciprocated, but I didn't totally shut him down either. More than a few of my friends other than Bryce had mentioned it, but I usually brushed their questions off. Flynn and I got on like a wild fire, there was no denying it. But just staying friends, hopefully good friends, still seemed like the best choice to me.

Around a month after Flynn had first started flirting, our whole extended group had decided to go out to the White Raven together to dance the night away and do whatever the hell we wanted to do. Bryce shot me a look on our way out the door, and I raised an eyebrow after locking the door behind us.

"You look good. Are you going to keep ignoring Flynn, or are you finally planning to do something about him tonight?"

I waved her off. "I already told you, Bryce, I'm not-"

"Interested in a one-time thing, yeah, I know. And that's fine. But he's been chasing you for a month. I think you should talk to him, let him know you're not interested."

"I'm sure he'll lose interest soon enough, B. Probably tonight, when he finally gets a break from work to the point that he notices some pretty thing dancing next to him and forgets he ever had a thing for me."

She gave me a skeptical look, but I ignored it. Flynn had become my best friend other than Bryce over the last month, but I wasn't about to start kidding myself that I might be the exception to his lack of interest in relationships.

Bryce and I were the last to arrive, and we found the rest of the group already posted up at a table, the first round of drinks ready to go. Flynn was already out on the dancefloor, and after saying a quick hello to the rest of our friends, I decided to go join him.

"Bryce? You in?"

She grinned and shook her head at me. "Nope. Have fun."

I narrowed my eyes at her, making sure she knew she wasn't being slick and that her implication wasn't appreciated. She blew me a kiss, and I rolled my eyes before turning from the table to go find Flynn on the dancefloor.

"Hey!" he cried, lighting up as soon as he saw me. "Finally!"

He grabbed my hands without hesitation, twirling me around him in the middle of the dancefloor. I smiled and laughed, then fell forward as he pulled me to his chest. I rested my hands on his shoulders, swaying to the beat with him, his beautiful eyes and devilish smile making my heart race. His hands drifted down my waist to rest low on my hips, and it was enough to shake me out of the moment.

I smiled, but put a little more space between us, and Flynn took the hint. He twirled me out and away from him again, and when he pulled me back this time, he dropped my hands. The two of us danced our hearts out, leaving a bit of space between us, letting the music completely take us over. Flynn's eyes still raked over me, but I just grinned back at him as I moved to the beat.

We spent a long, long time out there, dancing our hearts out without caring if we were good, making absolute fools of ourselves. Flynn's eyes stayed locked on me the whole time, that stupid grin never leaving his face. I tried my best to ignore it and just enjoy the moment with the frat boy I'd somehow become best friends with.

Finally, after the song switched again and Flynn showed no signs of slowing down, I had to take a break. I stopped dancing and stepped forward into his space, and Flynn mirrored the move, even leaning down a little so it'd be easier for me to shout into his ear.

"I'm gonna run to the restroom!" I called, still barely able to be heard over the noise. I leaned back and Flynn nodded at me, shooting me one more grin before I turned and headed off through the crowd.

I ducked past all the drunk patrons, and luckily for me, found no line at the bathroom. I paused at the sinks before heading back into the fray to splash some cold water under my eyes, waking me up a little and removing any misbehaving mascara. Then I sighed, gave myself a giant smile in the mirror, and headed for the door back to the rest of the club.

When I stepped into the hallway, to my surprise, I found Flynn standing a few feet from me. He smiled when he caught sight of me, and I came to a stop just in front of him, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the wall.

"What are you doing?" I called over the pounding music still coming from the dancefloor. Flynn's grin just widened and he pushed off the wall, moving to stand in front of me. He braced one arm on the wall over my head and leaned in, crowding me and bringing his face down to within inches of mine.

"What I've been wanting to do since we kicked Dec's ass at pool," he responded, his voice low and throaty, just loud enough to be heard over the music. His eyes darted to my lips, and then he was leaning in, intention clear.

My mind went blank as I stared back at him. He was one of the most handsome males I'd ever met, and I really did love talking to him and spending time with him. My heart raced at his proximity, and I'd never admit it to Bryce, but I wanted to kiss him, bad-

But then I thought better of it, as a group of female shifters passed us, staring and giggling into their hands. How many others had Flynn cornered in the hallway like this, for a physical release before he never called them again? How many females in this club had stood in the same place I did now, with the same male?

I pulled away at the last second, ducking under Flynn's arm to get some space from him. He whirled around to look at me with a frown, arms held out at his sides, clearly wondering what the hell I was doing. He took a step towards me and I took one back, which made him freeze on the spot.

"Sweetheart... what's wrong?" he asked, voice laced with confusion and concern. I wrapped my arms around myself and shook my head.

"I don't... I don't want this, Flynn. I don't want to make out with you in a dark club or hookup at the frat house. I don't care that you like to do that, it's your choice and you clearly enjoy it, but I don't. I don't want to be another fling or hookup or whatever before you move onto the next pretty thing that moves."

Flynn scowled. "What? That's not-"

"You've said yourself that you're not a relationship guy, Flynn. I've heard it a dozen times hanging out at the frat house. And that's okay. But I am a relationship person, and I care about you, a lot. Staying friends with you is more important to me than making out with you one time in a club hallway, only for you to turn around and grind with one of the shifters staring you down half an hour later."

Flynn's whole posture deflated, his expression dropping as he looked at me. I pursed my lips together and tried to give him a sympathetic look.

"Sorry, Flynn. I just... I really think this is for the best."

I didn't wait for a response before turning on my heel and heading back out to the dancefloor. I hadn't expected to care so much, but I could feel my heart threatening to shatter in my chest, and I wanted to get out of here before its resolve totally crumpled.

I reached our table to find my friends laughing and talking, Bryce mercifully on one end of the booth. I leaned in when I reached her, and her demeanor immediately became serious when she heard the tone of my voice.

"Hey, I think I'm gonna head home."

She pulled back and whirled around to look at me.

"What? Why?" Her eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I just... I'm ready to go. You don't have to come, I just thought I should let you know."

She scoffed at me, turning away just long enough to scoop up her purse before standing with me.

"Let's go."

I shot her a grateful look, and she linked arms with me without a second look over her shoulder to the males at our table as we headed for the door. I didn't follow her lead, and when I looked back, I saw Flynn up against the wall again, some gorgeous female in front of him and leaning in with obvious intent in her eyes. That little piece of my heart I'd been trying to hold together finally splintered and broke away.

I hadn't wanted to talk about it, but Bryce managed to get the full story out of me before I went to bed. She looked thoughtful, and clearly had some opinions she wanted to share, but I was exhausted and hurting and didn't want to talk about it. Thankfully, that must've shown clearly enough on my face that she let it go.

At least, until I wandered into the kitchen the next morning.

"You look like shit," Bryce said in lieu of good morning, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards me. I narrowed my eyes at her, but took the coffee anyway.

"Thanks. That's about how I feel."

"So... do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay, then I will. Why are you pretending you don't have a thing for him?"

"Who said I was, Bryce? He's absolutely gorgeous and I love spending time with him. He's funny, and chaotic in a good way, and I love talking to him. He's become my best friend here, other than you. But I want to date him, not hookup with him. So there's no point talking about it."

"Are you sure he doesn't want to date you, though?"

I fixed her with a look that communicated clearly how stupid I thought that question was. She shot right back with a fierce look of her own.

"I'm just saying, I haven't seen him with anyone else since you two started hanging out. And he hasn't talked about the single lifestyle since then, either, or even joke-flirted with me."

I sighed and shook my head. "I saw him with somebody as we were leaving the club last night, after I officially shut him down."

Bryce just hummed, eyes narrowed in thought as she sipped her own mug of coffee. I didn't like one thing about that look, so I quickly picked up my mug and headed back to my bedroom.

"I'm getting dressed, and then I'm probably gonna head to the gym. I'll see you tonight!"

I shut the bedroom door behind me before Bryce had a chance to say anything, heaving a sigh of relief the minute it was closed.

I changed quickly, but waited to leave my room until I heard Bryce go into her own. I didn't want to be ambushed and forced into another talk, hence why I was going to the gym in the first place. It would be a good way to lose myself in my music, and to be distracted from feelings by the pain in the rest of my body.

I stayed at the gym for an hour, then took my time showering and getting dressed in the locker room. I stayed under the hot water for a lot longer than usual, trying to wash away the hurt feeling still curled in the center of my chest. It was my own fault, catching feelings for somebody who I knew didn't want a relationship. But that didn't make it any less terrible to try and recover.

When I finally left the gym, the sun was high in the sky, which gave me hope that Bryce might be at work when I got home. I knew I'd have to face her and that thoughtful look she'd had sooner or later, but my preference was later, and I wanted to do everything I could to push that conversation off.

Luckily, our apartment was empty when I pushed back through the door. I sighed, throwing on the first thing that looked good on the tv and heading to the kitchen to make myself some lunch. I'd just settled into the couch and taken the first bite of my sandwich when a knock on the door disturbed me.

Not many people could make it up to our apartment from the lobby, so I knew I couldn't ignore the knock. I set my sandwich down with a huff and crossed the room, not bothering to check the peephole before flinging the door open.

I immediately regretted my decision when I found Tristan Flynn standing before me, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. I frowned, glancing over his shoulder for any sign of the rest of the frat pack, but he was the only one in the hallway.

"Flynn, what- ACHOO!"

My head flung forward violently at the smell of the flowers in Flynn's hands, and I groaned as I straightened up on the other side of the sneezing fit. I looked up at him again, this time through slightly bleary eyes. He looked a little panicked.

"Fuck. Are you allergic to flowers? I told Ruhn it was a stupid idea-"

"Wait, did you bring those for me? Did Ruhn tell you to bring those for me?"

Flynn grimaced. "Yeah. It's a long- hold on."

He cut himself off when he noticed me scrunching my nose, trying to fend off another sneezing fit. He took a few steps back to a pot down the hallway, then with a wave of his hand and a little of his magic, he buried the bouquet in the dirt of the fern.

"Fertilizer," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he returned to stand before me. "Sorry about that."

"That's okay..." I still sounded a little stuffy, but hopefully that would stop soon now that the flowers were out of nose-range. "What... what are you doing here?"

He sighed, staring at the ground for a few beats before abruptly looking up at me. His warm eyes met my own, and that little shard that had broken off last night dug itself in a little harder, almost making me wince in pain.

"I needed to talk to you. I... came to ask you out."

I laughed. When Flynn's face stayed just as grave and serious as it had been, more serious than I'd ever seen him look, I stopped laughing.

"Wait... are you serious?"

"Yeah, I am. Thanks for laughing, by the way."

"I'm sorry, I just, I don't know. Bringing flowers to my door to ask me on a date doesn't really seem like your thing."

"No shit. I almost killed you with those stupid flowers a minute ago." I cracked a smile again, and finally, a smile made its way onto Flynn's face too. He blew out a long breath, then shook his head. "Look, I know I'm not good at this. I've had a lot of practice and time to get good at other things, but... not this. But I don't want you to be a hookup. I've never had more fun in my life than whenever I spend time with you. You're funny and smart and gorgeous, and I haven't given a shit about other females since you sank that first shot in eye-to-eye. So I'm here to ask you on a real date. For... a real relationship."

His face scrunched up a little at the word, and my eyebrows shot into my hairline.

"You know people are usually excited when they talk about a relationship, right?"

"I am," he said, pinning me with the intense stare he normally reserved for Aux business. "This is just... new to me. I'm figuring it out. But I know that I want you, and no one else. I made fun of Quinlan and Athalar for being so sappy about all that 'dating your best friend' shit, but... having met you, it actually sounds kind of nice."

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, especially as Flynn fidgeted in front of me. I'd never seen him nervous like this, probably because he didn't usually fear rejection for meaningless make outs. But that thought brought another image to my mind.

"What about the female in the club last night?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. I failed, emotion breaking through, but at least I'd tried.

Flynn raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"The one you were getting hot and heavy with when Bryce and I left," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Flynn just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Please. She was drunk as hell and throwing herself at the first male she found attractive. Not that I would've minded before, but..." He rested one arm on the doorway above me, leaning into my space with a confident smirk that made my heart race. "Last night I had other things on my mind."

I fought and failed to keep a smile off my face, my gaze dropping from Flynn's. My heart raced at his words and his proximity, and I knew he could hear it. I expected him to rub it in, but instead, he let out a long breath.

"Look, you shot me down last night, and I don't want to put pressure on you and ruin our friendship or whatever. So it's not an issue if you say no, alright? But if you give me a chance..." I looked up, just in time to see that insufferable smirk on his face. "I plan to make the most of it."

This time, I didn't bother fighting the smile as it spread across my face. I rested a hand on Flynn's shoulder and leaned in closer, until I could place a soft kiss on his cheek. His hand immediately dropped from the doorframe to my waist, pulling me tight against him, but I just smirked and leaned back.

"I'm up for a date, Flynn. What did you have in mind?"

He practically growled as his eyes roved my face, down the rest of me, and back up to meet my eyes. More than a small part of my brain wanted to take advantage of the empty apartment behind me, but the rest of me won out. I wasn't about to make it that easy on him.

"I was thinking dinner. Drinks. And then... whatever else we feel like doing, after that."

Everything about Flynn's tone and body language made it clear exactly what he had in mind for "after that". I smiled, leaning into him a little further, bringing one hand up to run it through his hair. Flynn's eyelids fluttered.

"That sounds like a great plan, Flynn. What time do you want to pick me up?"

"Seven?"

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

With that, I slipped out of Flynn's grip, shooting him a wicked smirk and wave before shutting the door on him.

"What the fuck?" I heard him yell from outside. I just laughed.

"I've got things to do before our date tonight, Flynn!" I called back, knowing he could hear me just fine through the door with his fae hearing. "If you seriously waited a month, I think you can handle a couple more hours."

I could hear him grumbling on the other side of the door, but I just returned to the couch and my waiting sandwich. After a moment, he called out again, loud enough to still be heard.

"Fine! I'll see you tonight then, sweetheart. Get ready for the night of your life."

I didn't respond, not least of all because I didn't trust myself to. If Flynn was all in, then so was I. And I absolutely couldn't wait for our date tonight, from the dinner to the drinks to whatever might come after.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[nena-96]

Romione and/or Hinny blog recs?(I have been desperately trying to claw my way back into the golden trio era of the fandom)

Hey, anon!

Sorry for the late reply, I’ve been working 14hr shifts and my sleep schedule is all kinds of messed up.

Anyways, I’d love to share some of my recs with you. Trust me, I know how it feels, and I hope you have a fun time checking out these blogs (I’ll also post some fics recs, separate post, because it’ll be a wee bit long 😅),

Romione Blog Recs:

@adenei @acnelli @azaleablueme @be11atrixthestrange @cheesyficwriter @katenoteight @honouraryweasley12 @remedialpotions @mertronus @bluegreenandpurple @redandbrown @my-patronus-is-a-champagne-glass @hillnerd @hillnerd-art @toorumlk @gurinpotte @giuls233 @abradystrix @edie-k @taurusmoonchild

*Rennervator [on ao3]

*RonsGirlFriday [on ao3] or @constitutionalweasleymonarchy

*insufferableknowitall [on ao3]

*reallybeth [on ao3] or @reallybeth9

*sm_jl [on ao3] or @voldemorts-tap-shoes

(Just note some are not as ‘active’ as before but they all have amazing fics/art/hc that they’ve shared.)

Hinny Blog Recs (I’m fairly new to reading Hinny and I’m hoping to write some more….so the rec list is a bit short, maybe they have some recs?)

@corneliaavenue-ao3 @ginnyw-potter @takearisk-xo @sweeethinny @starlingflight

I hope the rec lists does not overwhelm you, anon, but i do hope you check out their works because they are truly talented.

I know I’ve read many of their works (and possibly left many reviews…in which I ramble….oh gosh I do that a lot 🤦‍♀️ on their works) and seen lots of their fanart.

That being said I hope this helps you get back into Romione, Hinny (Golden trio era)

I’m happy you sent this anon and I wish you the best of luck! Also, remember to like, reblog and comment on their works, it’s a way to show your appreciation for all their hard work and dedication since we all know life can get hectic and writing fanfic isn’t always easy. 💕

[ps…. I’ll share a few fic recs that I enjoy and always find myself going back to. But on a different post since this one is a bit long, haha. ]

[luffyvace]

HIHIHIHI TYSM FOR DOING MY REQUEST ^U^ I hope u Don't mind me dropping another one u :'))

Can I have kusuo reaction to Reader-chan being mostly know for her gore/angst/horror series but looks like nothing for a person to write this stuff (she looks absolutely innocent) yet having a (technically an old man) friend who is also anonymous writer for one of kusuo favorite series yet the said look absolutely opposite of it (the reader-chan and her friend are like Junji Ito and hayao miyazaki)

I'm sorry if u couldn't understand the request:')) my English isn't really the best-

HII DARLING! No problem at all! Of course I don’t mind! Request at any time as long as they say open <3

ohhh so she’s a horror writer :> OHHH I was confused at first but as soon as I searched them up and saw the memes I understood 😂💓

This is such a cute and funny topic! Enjoy your hcs anon 💖 ⚠️ Gore mentions⚠️

Kusuo isn’t easily scared.

there are very few things that actually do scare him, considering he can sense everything coming from a mile away

But shows and books are an exception (given he doesn’t stare at the pages to see through the book-)

he’s not normally into horror but your manga is actually very interesting to him!

seeing a bunch of mutilated corpses packed together is quite a gripping sight for him!

and honestly he is obbsessed likes normalcy but your case is a type of unique he doesn’t mind :)

it’s funny since you have this friendly and kind personality and your work is the exact opposite of that 🤗

it’s giving the cute core girlies!! (and guys!! <3) 💓💗💖🌸🌷💞🎀

he still gets the perk of reading the chapter before publish and giving small ideas for stuff

You once put his favorite character from another series in one of the manga panels and he when he noticed it he had a little smile on his face! 💗

he wasn’t excpecting you to do that at all and it was a pleasant surprise ;3

your introduced him to your friend and he also likes his work now!

Y’all are literal polar opposites- and ngl? He enjoys the balance!

like when he wants some exhilarating and goosebump-giving action he’ll pick up one of your mangas’

and when he’s feeling mellow while eating some coffee jelly on his bed his new (second) favorite author to read from is your friend!

His number one author is of course you ♥︎

would recommend his friends (specifically Kaido) one of your mangas to freak them out

they definitely won’t be expecting it seeing as though your such a cheerful person! 🌸🎀🌷

I feel like Torisuka would genuinely enjoy your manga as well!

he doesn’t get scared easily by creepy stuff for obvious reasons 😋

so you’ve got yourself another supporter !!

I have a feeling my girl boss Airua would get creeped out but 1) she wants to support you so she would probably buy and either never read or 2) read it anyway because it’s so interesting

like you captivated people with your work!

just as much as your friend does with more gentler topics

but in a different sense

You make your audience quite literally cover their eyes in fear yet still peak through they’re fingers with anticipation !

like that’s how good it is!

a “I can’t look away” type of thriller!

also you know that really talkative guy with the bob?

yeah he over analyzes your manga once he finds out about it

(which let me tell you- Kusuo tried his hardest to keep him away from it—but much to his luck- he got a hold of it anyway)

thankfully he likes it!

he’s scared- but once again- he just can’t look away :)

he comes to you and gives your extremely detailed compliments and (positive) feedback after each chapter is released and says he can’t wait for more

he also tells his expectations and predictions for the next one and hopes you’ll live up to them

so when your exceed them he’s more than thrilled (GET IT?? Ok..)

he’s practically able to predict every book or manga he reads because he analyzes everything

so when your able to surprise him he’s impressed!

after Kusuo he’s the first one to buy a copy

(cuz yk Kusuo gets those special you-get-the-first-copy-before-it’s-published-because-your-my-boyfriend-privileges)

LOL

the bob guy is low key jealous of him for getting it before it’s even PUBLISHED

tries to bargain you to get that too but it’s strictly reserved for Kuu ♡

okay I looked up bob guy’s name

it’s Akechi Touma (oops)

LOL “bob guy”

enjoy!! Pretty short but I think they’re a delight~

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Better Than Cake

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~4.2k

Summary: Wanda makes sure you enjoy your special day.

A/N: 18+ only, istg I’ll block blank and ageless blogs. 😤Anon request: What about Wanda and reader celebrating an anniversary or birthday? Thank you for writing such a cute au!!! Hope you don’t mind that it took this turn. Can also do a mostly fluff fic later. lmk

Warnings: Absolute filth (smut) and a lot of cuteness. 

The lights are off when you arrive home from work the night of your birthday. You had promised Wanda that you’d do your best to get home on time so you could spend time with her, but of course work had other plans. You hadn’t told anyone it was your birthday because you didn’t like having any extra attention on you. However, this didn’t matter much when someone brought cupcakes and a cheesecake for you. You’d been touched and hadn’t even minded the many ‘happy birthday’s you’d gotten throughout the day as a result. You’d never be upset about people feeding you, and since they were polite enough to not ask how old you were, you took it as a win.

However, the last appointment of the day had changed your luck, and you’d ended up staying almost an hour after closing. The complicated case that came in had been difficult to handle and the clients hadn’t been the most compliant. At the end of the day, the dog had been treated and you got to go home, so it was all good in your book. You just wish you’d gotten home earlier to help your wife make dinner. You’d told her you didn’t want anything special, you just wanted to be able to spend some time with her and cook. She’d told you ‘whatever you want’ since it was your birthday and you’d talked to her a bit throughout the day.

Boone darts into the dark house as soon as you arrive and heads to his food bowl that is full and waiting for him as usual. You look around for your wife while closing the door behind you quietly.

“Wanda?”

You don’t smell any food cooking which makes you happy but also hungrier at the same time. You don’t see Wanda in the living room napping or at all and you frown as you look toward the stairs. The only light on in the house is in your bedroom and you figure Wanda is in there just waiting for you to come home. You leave Boone to his dinner and wander upstairs in search of your wife.

“Wands?”

“Come in, detka.”

You hear her respond as you walk toward the bedroom and stop in front of the door for a moment. You both take a deep breath as you push it open slowly. You’re greeted by the room resembling the rest of the house. It’s mostly dark, and the only light comes from a dozen candles that are scattered around the room casting a soft glow. You smile before you even look to the bed to see your wife waiting for you, and the smile drops slightly as your jaw slackens at the sight.

“Happy birthday, Y/n.”

You’re trying to get your mouth to work as you take in your wife’s get up. You remember buying her this set of lingerie from your last trip, and you were so glad to see her in it again. It was your favorite color, and it accentuated your wife’s perfect body making you practically drool on sight. You take another deep breath as you walk into the room and shut the door behind you with a smile. You focus solely on your wife and how the way she lounges on the bed shows off her long legs and pulls your focus to her full breasts that are barely contained in the thin lace. Her long red hair frames her beautiful face and you can’t help but feel blessed.

“Thanks, Wands, um. You look…”

You trail off because Wanda’s moved so she’s sitting up and you watch as her hair falls perfectly over her green lace and you nearly moan. Your wife subtly pushes her breasts together as she leans in towards you, and you actually trip as you step closer to the bed. You fall to your knees which is embarrassing but where you’d probably end up anyway so you just stay there as you try to hide your blush by staring at the comforter. Your wife giggles and it immediately draws your attention back to her and her smile.

“You okay?”

“Perfect. You look perfect as always. Are you my present?”

Wanda can’t stop herself from flushing slightly at your question, and excitement at the fact that you seem on board with her plan. It wasn’t too thought out honestly. She got dressed down and turned off the lights to create an ideal ambiance. You’ve only had fake candles in the house since Fletcher jumped up on the dinner table and burnt herself one night. Wanda had been so distraught that you’d put all of the candles in storage or donated them to your slightly confused friends.

When Wanda reaches out for you and drags you toward the bed you just let her. You can smell her perfume from here and it’s making you dizzy the closer you get to it. You start to get up, but Wanda puts a hand on your shoulder to keep you kneeling. You almost groan impatiently but Wanda’s smirk makes you think twice.

“Part of your gift, dekta. The rest comes after you get your fill of me. If that’s okay with you.”

You’re nodding before Wanda even finishes her sentence and she smiles at you lovingly. Your excitement is flattering and enough for the last of Wanda’s nerves to dissipate. You’d told her that you didn’t want anything special for your birthday, and she’d wanted to honor that. However, throughout the day she’d realized that you deserved at least something to celebrate your big day. She was glad that you seemed pleased with her offer and she encouraged you to stand up before she got to her knees so she could meet your lips for a kiss.

You moan as your wife’s tongue pushes past your lips insistently. You let her take the lead as you just bask in the feeling of her bare skin beneath your fingers. You squeeze her hips and feel yourself flush as Wanda presses her front against yours. She tugs on your hair making you hiss as she breaks away to kiss your neck.

“Tell me what you want, Y/n.”

Your eyes fall shut at the feeling of your wife’s lips kissing your heated skin, and you groan when she bites hard enough to leave a bruise. You realize you haven’t responded and you take a deep breath before you try and decide what you want first. You’re feeling a little selfish, but since it’s your birthday you figure that it’s allowed. You smile widely as you run your hands up your wife’s sides with a thoughtful hum before letting them fall back to her hips.

“I want to taste you. You look delicious, my love.”

Wanda leans in for a chaste kiss before offering you a smile.

“Whatever you want, birthday girl.”

You try not to act as feral as you feel now that you’ve been given free reign of your beautiful birthday present. You stay on the ground for now, and you fall back to your knees so you can kiss your wife’s taut stomach. She’s honestly surprised that you started here, but she’s not complaining as your hands fall to her thighs as you leave wet kisses along her rapidly heating skin. She squeezes her eyes shut, and her head falls back as your mouth drifts lower and you leave a kiss on her hipbone through the lace. Wanda shudders as you continue to tease her, and she has to remind herself that it’s your birthday and she can’t rush you too much. She tangles her fingers in your hair with a sigh and tugs slightly as you start to move back up her body.

You release a chuckle but say nothing as you stand up and run your hands up your wife’s body until they’re on her shoulders. You push some of her hair behind her ear with a smile before kissing her cheek.

“Lie down for me, baby.”

Wanda had no intention of not doing as you asked and she quickly shifts before starting to lie back. You shake your head before redirecting her so she’s lying against the pillow propped against the headboard. You want her to be comfortable for what comes next, and you take a moment to admire your gorgeous wife literally laid out in front of you at your mercy. You have to push down the urge to groan at the thought of what you’re going to do her, and you just offer her a wolfish smile as you climb on the bed.

“I know it’s my birthday, but if you don’t want to do something, just say the word okay?”

Wanda feels her face flush at the thought of the many things you could have on your mind, but she doesn’t hesitate to nod. She loves you and trusts you enough to not push her limits in any way she doesn’t want. You’re always so thoughtful that she would honestly give you anything you asked, but she knows that’s not what you’d want.

So she nods and mutters an ‘okay’ under her breath that makes you smile so brightly Wanda feels her heart stutter in her chest. She’s feels so lucky to get to call you her wife.

Wanda feels herself shudder at the sight of your eyes darkening as your gaze falls to her still-covered breasts. You plan on fixing this, but you want to appreciate the sight of your wife in your favorite color for just a little longer. You move so you’re straddling her, but you keep your weight off her as you lean over to kiss her flushed cheek.

“I love you so much, Wands.”

Wanda struggles to find her words as you kiss her neck and trace your fingers over the lace of her skimpy bra. She loved this when you gave it to her, and she loved putting it on tonight, but she really wishes you’d take it off already. You’re in no hurry though as you trace the entire outline of the fabric as you leave her neck covered in hickeys that she knows you’ll help her cover up tomorrow. As much as you loved leaving them there for her to see, you didn’t like when people ogle your wife and make her feel self-conscious. You also knew better than to provide Pietro with any reason to give your wife a hard time. Not that he ever had trouble finding one.

“God, yes. I love you too.”

Wanda gasps as you push down the fabric of her bra and kiss her exposed skin hungrily. You groan as Wanda arches her back and pushes her breasts in your face in the least subtle ask possible. You squeeze one of them teasingly as you swirl your tongue around her exposed nipple making your wife gasp before biting her lip to stifle a moan.

“Fuck, detka.”

You suddenly get an idea and you sit up slightly so you can meet your wife’s unfocused gaze. You continue to torment Wanda with your touch as you moan at the sight of her so breathless.

“I’m going to make you come like this, and then I’ll taste the rest of you.”

Wanda moans loudly at the thought and she tries to take a second to control her breathing as you latch onto her again. She feels your hands leave her for a moment while they unclasp her bra and maneuver it off of her quickly. Now that she’s fully exposed you take the time to really appreciate your wife’s body. Wanda is near beside herself a couple minutes later and she almost laughs at the fact that she’s about to come already. If you’d told her that you could make her come from this alone, she would have been dubious. She may have even bet against you. She should have known better than to doubt you.

“Holy shit.”

Wanda’s still panting when you pull away and sit up with a look of admiration. You reach out to touch your wife’s cheek and you kiss her gently as you wait for her to catch her breath. You have a lot more in mind for her, but you know that getting your wife too wound up too quickly can cause her to burn out faster. You do still plan on cooking dinner with her after so you need to be a little strategic with how you want to proceed.

“Can you go again, Wands?”

Wanda is nodding before you even finish asking because she feels an uncomfortable stickiness between her legs that’s making her shift beneath you. You can’t pretend that you don’t notice, and you’re smiling by the time Wanda’s pushing you away from her. You leave her with one last kiss before sliding down her legs and spreading them apart so you can see her the damp spot on her thong. You groan under your breath and shoot Wanda a curious look that makes her blush furiously and squirm in an attempt to close her legs.

“You’ve ruined these, Wands. I’ll just have to buy you new ones I guess.”

You hold Wanda’s legs open with a smirk as you decide to confirm what you already know. You both moan as your fingers slide through the slick spot and your free hand goes to your wife’s hip to keep her still. Wanda shudders in need and you’re not going to keep her waiting. You duck your head down between your wife’s legs and run your tongue over the wet spot that continues to grow. You groan loudly at the taste and Wanda releases a breathy curse as she tries to push your face further between her legs. You frown at this and actually pull away which makes Wanda release a whine and open her eyes to search for yours.

“Can you put your hands behind your head for me?”

Wanda nearly whines again at the idea of not being able to touch you, but the alternative is you not touching her so she quickly places her hands behind her head and links her fingers together. She sighs in anticipation when you just smile and kiss her in thanks. You disappear from sight and Wanda waits with bated breath for you to get back to it.

“Good god...!”

You hold back the initial retort that comes to mind and focus instead on pleasing your wife. She knows you well enough to huff in faux annoyance because she’s heard the joke before, but she also chooses not to comment on it. Instead, she rolls her hips against your face as you devour her like she’s your dinner. She moans as you nose at her clit while burying your tongue between her soaked folds. You love the fact that Wanda is so wet and it gives you so many ideas that you have to push aside as you continue to drive your wife toward the edge.

“I’m c-close, fuck, Y/n.”

When you close your lips around her clit and suck gently, Wanda sees stars and her hips jump as she comes with a loud cry she’s sure the pets could hear downstairs. You let her ride out her high as you carefully cleaned up the remnants of her orgasm. She reaches down to push you away when she becomes too sensitive, and you stop immediately before sitting up so she can see your soaked face. She flushes in embarrassment but you just laugh before you reach out to run your hands down her still-shaking legs.

“You’re the best birthday present I could ask for. You know that don’t you?”

Wanda flushes scarlet at this and she looks away shyly at your genuine smile. She loves you so much, and she knows that you don’t mean the sex. At least she doesn’t think so, but any uncertainty is cleared up when you continue to speak as you tease her inner thighs with a happy sigh.

“As fun as this is, I just need you, Wands. You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt.”

Wanda smiles at you and she pushes herself up so she can kiss you deeply. She groans against your lips as your hands wander on their own to your wife’s waist to pull her close. She groans as she shifts against you so she can take off your shirt. She should ask, but honestly it’s not fair that she’s completely naked and you’re still wearing most of your clothes. She’s honestly not sure when you lost your pants, but she’s not going to dwell on that. You help her take off your shirt and you reach behind you to remove your bra as you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

“At the risk of sounding greedy, I want one more thing for my birthday, love.”

Wanda’s listening raptly as you run your hands down her thighs appreciating how they flex beneath your touch. Wanda has to speak up when you’re too distracted to notice her nod and you smile at what she says.

“Name it, detka.”

You grin at the idea of handing the reigns over to your wife, who has always wielded her authority in the best of ways in the bedroom. You consider for a moment what she’ll say, but the anticipation is too much for you to drag it out very long.

“Whatever you want to do, Wands. It’s your turn now.”

Wanda’s face lights up and she grins at the many possibilities. She knows what she’d like to do, but it’s your birthday and despite giving her a chance to call the shots, she still wants you to enjoy it as much as possible. She smiles when the perfect idea comes to her and she reaches out to cup your cheek and pull you back towards her. You indulge her and the two of you kiss for a minute as Wanda works you up by rocking her hips against yours. You groan and hold her a little tighter before Wanda breaks away to whisper in your ear.

“I want you to come now.”

You won’t argue against this because the pressure in your lower abdomen is reaching near unbearable levels from watching your wife come twice. You start to nod but Wanda cuts you off as she grabs your hair to keep you still as she bites you hard enough to make you jump and moan.

“But I want you to fuck me as you do it.”

It only takes your lust-addled mind a few seconds to realize what Wanda’s talking about, and you curse as your core throbs at the very idea. You nod and in less than a minute later you’re back on the bed with your wife, wearing the special strap that’s double-sided so you’ll be able to feel more than usual. Wanda smiles at you before she practically drags you toward her. She knows you’re plenty worked up but as you land back on the bed on your knees, she can’t help but reach out for the large toy hanging from your hips and stroking it appreciatively.

“You’re going to make us both feel so good.”

You nearly pass out as Wanda says this only to immediately fall on her elbows so her lips are just inches from your strap. You don’t have time to mentally prepare for the sight of your wife deep throating you, and you fist the sheets to keep from tugging on your wife’s hair. You curse under your breath as you watch Wanda tease you by making a show of it, and you shudder as she continues to push the strap further into you with each jerk of her hand.

“God, Wands. You’re going to kill me.”

Wanda smiles at you as she releases the strap with a loud groan before shaking her head. She’s not going to torture you for long, but she loves to see that she can get you so close to the edge with a little teasing. She leans in to kiss you chastely before she smirks at you in a way that makes you clench around the toy inside of you.

“How do you want me?”

You’ve only thought about this from the moment you stepped into the bedroom so you waste no time instructing your wife to lie on her stomach. She obliges you and lies down so she’s facing the end of the bed. You bite your lip to stop a moan from escaping at the sight of your wife waiting for you with her back arched and her legs spread wide.

You flirt with the idea of tasting her again, but you figure you’ve both waited long enough and you slide up close behind her and spread her legs even further apart, so she’s as open as possible. She gasps as you pull her back towards you before your hand goes to your strap with a groan.

“Ready, baby?”

You don’t wait for an answer as your fingers tease Wanda’s dripping folds and the moan in response is enough of a confirmation for you and you push your knees up against her inner thighs to keep her spread as you push the tip of your strap through her folds. You watch as Wanda fists the sheets at the feeling before she moans loudly as you start to push further in.

“Oh fuck! Fuck, that’s-”

Wanda trails off as you fill her to the hilt and rest deeper inside her than you’ve ever been. She squeezes her eyes shut and releases another moan as you pull out a couple of inches before pushing back in. Wanda’s walls clench at the feeling of you brushing against the sensitive spot inside her with each thrust. She feels you grab her thighs and she braces herself as you start to thrust faster.

“Jesus, Wands.”

You’re already breathless as you watch yourself disappear inside your wife as your thighs smack against hers. You adjust your legs so they’re under hers and the change in angle makes Wanda jump and nearly scream as your thrusts hit her g-spot each time. She shakes violently as she tries to thrust her hips back to meet yours to push you in deeper.

“Oh god! Yes, please, please.”                                       

You feel yourself clenching harder with each rough slap against your wife’s thighs. You throw your head back and keep thrusting as Wanda’s pleas turn nonsensical. Her eyes roll back as you continue to fuck into her just right. When she feels your hands move to her sides to push her further into the bed, she screams as she comes hard around the strap.

“Fuck! Oh my god, oh my god!”

Wanda stiffens and she sees only stars as you continue thrusting through her orgasm in an attempt to reach your own. You move your hands quickly to grab her hips and change how the strap hits your inner walls, and you nearly black out as your orgasm hits you hard. Your hand slips down and you tease Wanda’s clit and send her over the edge again with a moan of pleasure.

“Fucking hell.”

You stop thrusting and you let up the pressure between Wanda’s legs when she reaches down to grab your wrist. She’s panting hard and might pass out if you keep touching her, so she’s grateful that your hand drops away from her and you pull out of her slowly.

“Holy fuck. That was…”

You’re not sure you have a word that’s appropriate to describe that, but Wanda, like always, is one step ahead of you. She rolls over onto her back and reaches out to pull you towards her. She helps you take off the strap and discard it before you both cuddle close. You’ll clean up soon, but you both need to catch your breath first. You hold your wife close despite both of you being sticky with sweat but neither of you care.

Wanda places her head against your chest with a smile as she wraps her arms around you tightly. She listens to your heart racing for a bit before she kisses your heated skin with a smile.

“Everything you hoped for and more?”

You can’t help but laugh, but you kiss the top of your wife’s head as you nod in agreement. You honestly couldn’t have said it better.

“Exactly. Thank you for celebrating my birthday with me, Wands.”

You feel Wanda laugh more than you hear it, but you’re also fading quickly. You could fall asleep right now despite your stomach starting to ache with hunger. You’ll get there, but for now you’d just like to bask in your wife’s wonderful company.

“Of course, detka, but we’re not done yet. We still need to cook dinner and eat cake.”

You open your eyes and start slightly at the mention of cake, and your wife laughs at how food-motivated you are. She almost thinks you’re going to jump up now, but she’s pleasantly surprised when you just hold her tighter and kiss her again.

“I love you Wands, and I love cake, but this was certainly better than cake.”

When Wanda only laughs in response before shifting to get more comfortable in your arms you sigh happily. You really can't think of a better way to celebrate your birthday.

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