#chalk rambles around again

[hanjisick]

— COOKIES

order #6 of the coffee shop series: a cookie

ingredients. y/n x barista!felix. he’s never had a gf before. hopeless pining on felix’s end. mostly fluff with some angst. also the boys keep trying to play shitty wingmen again.

allergies. making out and felix being awkward

size. 3.2k

special add ons. felix is a sociable, confident, kind barista at yellow wood café. but once you show up on one rainy day, you turn him into a mess.

you hadn’t prepared for the rain to come so quickly.

the forecast had said that it would only pick up in the afternoon, and you figured that you would be home by then. so of course, you had left your umbrella at home.

you decided to run into the nearest building, hoping to stay there until the rain had died down a little.

it was a coffee shop, one that you hadn’t been to before. you had no clue how you didn’t know the place existed. it seemed like just your type of hang-out spot.

the difference between the café and outside was stark. looking through the windows, it was gloomy and intense, while inside, the atmosphere was warm and cozy. the smell of coffee brewing and people chatting filled your senses.

“can i help you?” you had been staring off for a minute now, your entire body drenched in rain.

“sorry,” you apologized, “i was just looking for somewhere to be until the rain stopped.”

“you’re alright! could i get anything for you while you wait?”

your eyes stared the barista up and down. he was around your age— and was the epitome of sunshine. his features were gentle and strikingly beautiful.

his name tag read “felix.”

then, you drifted towards the menu on the counter, written in chalk, slightly smudged.

“are the cookies any good?” you questioned, staring at the cute plastic containers full of baked goods, specifically the heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies.

“well, i baked them myself, so they better be good.” felix’s shy smile told you that he was proud of his baking.

“i’ll buy one and see for myself.”

usually, the freckled barista wasn’t nervous at comments like these, but your gentle eyes made his heart flip in ways that he didn’t quite understand. “will that be all?”

“for now.”

he rang you up, handing you the cookies straight out of the container.

without waiting to sit down, you bit into the cookie.

two of felix’s fingers met his neck, checking his pulse quickly— a nervous habit of his.

but his nerves turned into excitement as your eyes lit up.

“i’ll take two more cookies and a mocha, please!”

felix couldn’t help but smile widely, “our muffins are really good too. we have blueberry and chocolate chip right now, but i’m working on a recipe for a cappuccino muffin.”

you cut his ramble short, “i’ll try both. and a brownie.”

“got a sweet tooth?” he rolled up the sleeves of his baby blue cardigan to begin making your mocha, “i don’t want you to get any cavities.”

“i’ll have just one bite of each and bring it home with me,” you reasoned, taking a stool at the bar, “i have nothing better to do, anyway. the rain says it’ll last for another hour.”

“so you’re gonna spend that hour taste-testing the treats?”

“i’ve never been here before, i better start working on my regular order.”

“will you be a new regular?”

“if the mocha is good. otherwise i think i’ll just go back out into the rain, i’m already drenched anyway.”

there you go again. causing felix to worry about how good his barista skills were in a way that nobody does.

he couldn’t help but drizzle a chocolate heart on top before handing it to you.

immediately felix jumped back. “your hands are freezing!”

“that’s what happens when you’re in the rain.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at felix’s concern. it wasn’t bad at all.

“i think this goes against every rule we have here,” felix shrugged off his cardigan, throwing it across the counter.

immediately your quiet laugh died down, your stomach twisting with butterflies. mostly at how kind the freckled boy was, but you couldn’t ignore the way that the white shirt under it clung to him tighter.

“thank you.” you wrapped yourself in the cardigan, breathing in a faint scent of a fruity perfume, almost masked by the overwhelming smell of coffee.

“felix,” chan, his boss, nudged him with a grin, “did you just do what i think you did?”

if it were any other barista, they would’ve been scolded. but felix had taken up a large spot in chan’s heart, one that meant that he refused to rebuke the boy.

“she was cold! right, y/n?” he defended, “she just came in from the rain outside.”

“so you’re just gonna give every customer your clothes if they’re cold?”

you could see a faint red tint forming on felix’s ears, “well no! but she’s new, i wanted to give her a warm welcome.”

there was a familiar look in chan’s eyes, one that felix could spot from miles away. one of knowing.

“alright then. i’m glad you were able to earn us a new customer. even if it meant giving up your clothes.”

“do you have any paper?” you interrupted with a mouthful of muffin, “and maybe a pen too?”

felix was thankful that you saved him from chan. “yeah! i’ll get it for you. hold on.”

thirty minutes later, once a spot of sunlight through the clouds had appeared, you were gone.

felix glanced over at your spot, sadness pulling on his heart, full of what if’s.

what if you didn’t come back? what if that was the last time he would see you?

he noticed the piece of paper left behind.

the title read, “felix’s bakery ranking.”

first place was the cookies. second was the brownies. then the chocolate chip muffin, then the blueberry.

“she must love chocolate,” felix jumped at jeongin’s voice from behind him, “she also got a mocha, right?”

“how do you know? you weren’t even here.”

“chan was telling the group chat.”

“he was doing what?” felix reached for the phone in his back pocket to confirm his words.

“talking about how you were mesmerized by that girl.”

“was not!”

“you totally were,” chan patted his back, “i’ve never seen you smile that wide.”

“says a lot for how much he smiles.”

felix groaned as jeongin flipped over the scrap paper.

“see you at 3 tomorrow,” he read out, looking up at felix whose eyes widened, turning to chan.

“i don’t work tomorrow! can i work tomorrow?”

“so it isn’t just you being kind?”

“i need to get my cardigan back.”

“you’re a terrible liar. just admit that you want to see her again.”

“just schedule me to work tomorrow!”

the next day, felix was walking on clouds.

the boy normally walked with a pep in his step, serving customers with a comfortable kindness that nobody else could replicate, but today there was an extra hint of sweetness to everything that he did. even some of the most unobservant customers had pointed it out.

but each of the boys knew exactly why he was acting the way that he was, thanks to the messages that chan had sent.

as the vintage clock on the wall inched closer and closer to 3, felix became more dazed, clumsy even.

“are you sure that he should be working right now?” minho shot chan a questioning look.

“just let him get it out of his system.”

“but we’re cleaning up his spill messes all for a girl that he had one conversation with. he’s hopeless.”

“i don’t even think he’s had a girlfriend before.”

“really?” minho’s eyebrows raised, “with how all of the girls stick to him like glue?”

“i don’t think he knows how much of a heartthrob he is.”

chan glanced towards felix, who was busy chatting with two girls who had stopped by just a few minutes ago, “he’s clueless sometimes.”

the bell on the door rang as you stepped in, blue sweater in hand, eyes darting across the room to find the blonde boy who immediately abandoned his conversation.

“i came to return this,” you slid it across the counter, just as felix had done the previous day, “and get a cookie as well.”

“just the cookie?”

“and a mocha.”

“your total will be—“

“just give it to her for free,” chan whispered from behind, trying to help the frantic boy.

“it’ll be free today,” felix stumbled on his words, “and maybe i could heat the cookies for you too? they’re better warm.”

“that would be great,” you took a seat at the same spot as before, “your customer service is top tier. free service and a cardigan on a rainy day?”

“we try.” felix couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face, or take his eyes off of you.

even when you weren’t paying attention to him, typing on your laptop and munching on a cookie, he would stare at you, just barely hiding behind the espresso machine.

“why don’t you ask for her number?”

felix jumped as yet another barista appeared from behind him— something that had been happening too much recently. or perhaps he was just less focused on his surroundings.

“i can’t do that. what if she rejects me?”

“she would’ve let you down by now, do you know how obvious you’re making it?” hyunjin tried to reason with him.

“i guess that’s true, but i’m nervous. she’s really pretty.”

“so? you’re pretty too.”

felix gave the compliment a light laugh, “but she’s intimidatingly pretty.”

he kept an eye on the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your finger tapping to the rhythm of the café’s record player on the table.

“you’re such a hopeless romantic. just get her number. she’s gonna leave again and you’re gonna be upset that you didn’t.”

“maybe.”

with those words in mind, felix shyly approached you, hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

“hey,” he started, almost chickening out just from your eye contact.

his fingers went to his throat, checking his pulse, “do you think i could get your number?”

when you stared at him in silent shock for a moment, he continued, “not as, like, a weird thing! i just want to be your friend.”

he could see hyunjin out of the corner of his eye, ready to pull out his hair in frustration.

your smile faltered, but you still took the phone from his hand, saving your name as y/n.

“text me later.” there was a hint of sadness in your voice that felix didn’t fail to pick up on, but he didn’t dare to comment on it.

he ran off into the back room, ready to scream over the most embarrassing, disappointing moment in his entire life.

hyunjin followed close behind, “felix! what the hell?”

“i got nervous!”

“so you decided to friend-zone her?”

“she could’ve friend zoned me first!”

“she obviously wasn’t going to!”

“but if she did then i think i’d die!”

hyunjin was close to slamming his head against the nearest wall. “i’m gonna die right now if you don’t walk back out there and tell her that you’ve spent the whole day thinking about how pretty she is!”

“she’ll think i’m weird!”

“then i’ll do it!” felix tried to hold him back but failed as hyunjin opened the door, only to be met with an empty spot where you used to be.

felix let go, his shoulders dropping.

“where is she?”

“i guess she left,” hyunjin turned to see his devastated friend.

“did i fuck up that badly?”

hyunjin bit his lip, trying not to make it worse for him than it already was. but the truth was that, yeah, he did.

“maybe she’ll be back.”

felix texted you that night while he sat in bed, deciding on, “hi it’s felix! :)”

he kept his cardigan next to him.

perhaps it was a little creepy, but he decided to sniff it. it smelled different than usual. perhaps that’s what you smelled like.

perhaps he would never even get to know what you smelled like.

tears brimmed his eyes as he shut off his phone, staring up at the fan on his ceiling, letting the noise drown out the eerie silence.

felix wanted to slap himself for being such an idiot. he had no problem talking to people, he was the most extroverted extrovert that an extrovert could get. but he couldn’t help but question everything he did in front of you, even if he had just met you.

you didn’t respond.

when felix showed up to work the next day, it was like the sunshine was hidden behind a rainy cloud.

he knew that it shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did. he knew that checking to see if he got a text every minute wasn’t normal, or whip his head toward the door every time a customer came in.

so felix spent another night in his bed, phone in hand, staring at the text that he sent.

would it just be easier to forget about you? it’s not like he had anything going with you anyway.

it was only when he set it down for the night and closed his eyes that it began to ring, and he sprang right back up, eyes widening as he stared at the caller ID.

it was minho.

“hello?” felix answered, voice filled with sleep.

“you were upset at work today,” he stated, “is it because of that girl?”

“you could see it?”

“everyone could. like we always do.”

“i’m just gonna try to forget about it.”

“don’t.”

“what do you mean?”

“you have her number, right? come clean, text her that you were nervous. ask to meet up.”

“like a date?”

“exactly. ask her on a date.”

felix chewed on his lip, anxiety clouding his judgment once again. would he have the courage to even do that?

“chan said that you’re not allowed to work until you sort out your sadness. and nobody wants to cover your shifts, man.”

when minho hung up the phone, felix laid back against his pillows, letting out a breath of air that he didn’t know he was holding. then he checked his pulse.

opening your texts, he began typing. ‘i lied. it was something weird. you’re really pretty. you can block me if you want.’

he deleted the message.

‘actually,’

no.

‘i meant to ask for your number in a not-friend-way,’

no.

‘sorry for the other day. i was anxious and said the wrong thing, but i really wanted your number because i think you’re gorgeous. do you want to go out sometime?’

he sent the message and resisted the urge to chuck his phone across the room. instead, he threw it back down onto the bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and squeezing it as hard as he could.

minutes later, felix heard his phone buzz. he scrambled to pick it up.

‘that’s ok. i was a little disappointed, you’re rly cute :)’

it buzzed again.

‘wanna come over tomorrow and watch a movie or something?’

his fingers shook, trying to type back, ‘sounds great! does 5 work?’

you reacted to his text with a thumbs up, and then he was back to squeezing the pillow.

felix didn’t work the next day. instead, he spent the day showering, squealing, spam-texting friends, and preparing for his first-ever date.

when you opened the doorbell, you were met with quite possibly the cutest sight in the entire world.

there felix was, holding a box of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies in his shaky hands. “i baked these for you, kind of as an apology, kind of because i wanted to impress you. and i know you like the cookies.”

you giggled at his honesty, letting him inside as you took the box, “thank you felix, you’re such a sweetheart.”

he checked his pulse.

“sorry for the mess. i tried to clean a little, but i don’t have people over often.”

“it’s okay,” he was quick to reassure you, “my house doesn’t look all that clean either. kind of comes with being a human.”

you laughed, taking a seat on the couch. he followed your actions.

“so, about the whole number thing,” he toyed with the rip on his black jeans.

“i thought you were really really beautiful.”

suddenly, he was way too aware of how close you were to him. but he wouldn’t let himself get nervous again.

“one of my coworkers was telling me to ask for your number and i was nervous and thought that you wouldn’t like me like that.”

felix sighed, “so i ended up saying the wrong thing and giving you the wrong idea.”

when he looked back up, you were smiling, holding in laughter. “that’s honestly adorable.”

“really?”

“i got sad, i thought you were just that kind to everyone and that i was developing some crazy ego thinking that a boy as attractive as you would like me.”

“you think i’m attractive?” his ears were on fire by now, completely stiff as you leaned in to look him in the eyes.

“i don’t understand how you don’t know how attractive you are.”

“what do you mean?”

“do i have to spell it out for you?”

“probably.”

“i think you’re gorgeous.”

“i also think the same about you. you looked so cute eating all happily, and when you smile, it makes me want to kiss you.” he chewed his lip, trying to not regret his bold words.

something tense was in the air, something that made felix’s heart pound a thousand times faster.

“then do it.”

felix froze. was he supposed to tell you that he had never kissed a girl before, much less sat this close to one?

“well, are you going to? or are you getting shy again?”

“i’ve never kissed anyone.” he let his heart thud out of his chest at the confession.

your eyes visibly widened, “you? you haven’t had your first kiss?”

“or held hands with a girl. and i’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“that’s impossible.”

“i don’t know how to prove it.”

“your awkwardness does the job.”

you decided to make a move, “but i can show you how if you’d like.”

felix’s mouth went dry, unsure of what to do or say.

“it’ll come naturally. just let it happen,” you smiled reassuringly as he nodded.

climbing onto his open lap, your hands carded through his blonde hair.

you leaned in to meet his lips briefly, his eyes burning into your own.

it was a soft and gentle kiss, just like him. but his eyes were full of desire for more.

“can i have another?” his hands met your back, pulling you into him.

this time, the kiss lasted longer, so much longer that he began craving more of you, so he did what he saw in all the movies.

he slipped his tongue into your mouth, grinning against your lips in pride at his actions.

felix’s hands traveled to your waist as took your word, letting go of his anxieties and doing what came naturally.

and without even realizing it, he began to take the lead.

all of the feelings were overwhelming. the way that you tugged on his hair, how close your bodies were, the way your tongue felt against his own.

he never wanted to stop.

until his phone began ringing.

you pulled away and he let out a shaky breath, slowly opening his eyes to stare at your features up close.

“felix, your phone,” you reminded him.

he jolted out of the daze, reaching for it.

chan.

he was about to just cancel the call when he saw the spam texts, asking where he was.

with a heavy sigh, he answered with you still on his lap.

“did you make up with y/n?”

“be quiet! i’m with her right now!”

you let out a laugh.

“oh! tell her hi!”

felix hung up on his friend with a groan, turning the ringer off.

“can we go back to kissing again?”

“after he’s done blowing you up,” you pointed at the buzzing phone.

[skylarsblue]

✦Slashers With An ADHD S/O✦

This could also be taken as slashers with a s/o that has unmedicated ADHD, it's essentially just them responding to your info dumping or random-ass questions. This is definitely not me just wanting to project random facts onto people-

✧GN!Reader, mention of skinwalkers(in case you're worried bout the energy that might bring), brief mention of cannibalism✧ ✧Bo; He/Him, Vincent; He/They, Lester; He/Him, Thomas; He/Him, Bubba; He/She/They, Stu; He/Him, Billy Lo; He/Him, Brahms; He/Him✧

❀Bo Sinclair❀

He's gonna act so sick of it but he often gets wrapped up in what you're doing. I've always been on the fence if he's neurotypical, or if he has unmedicated ADHD.

If you ask a random ass question that he can't immediately answer, he'll try to brush you off, but then he'll get too curious. Leading to hours of you two coming up with theories or researching some obscure topic. Sometimes it leads to debates that might get heated, but they never turn into actual fights.

Although sometimes he's too tired to deal with your random shit. Like, if you two are in bed, and you roll over with a super obscure topic? He'll give you some tired grunts as responses, but eventually, he'll cover your mouth and tuck you under his chin. "Doll, I'ma need you to shut ya mouth." He loves you but he needs his beauty sleep.

You were washing dishes as Bo sat in the living room, sipping a beer and losing his focus on a TV show. Things were quiet and peaceful. He'd been a bit on edge today, but that was chalked up to his lingering headache. Aside from that? Nothing was wrong, and it allowed everyone in Ambrose to relax...assuming they weren't encased in wax. But your brain was not relaxed. Not with the question that had been bouncing around all day. Finally, it was too much to bare on your own, so after drying your hands you poked your head around the door frame to the kitchen. Staring at Bo on the couch. He sensed it, setting his beer on his knee as he looked over, expecting your words.

"Bo, how come you never see an ad for microwaves?"

His brow furrowed before his eyes rolled. "Really? Darlin' what kind of stupid ass question is th-..." He trailed off as he properly processed the question. You blinked, staring, waiting as you watched it settle over him. The same confusion. He shook his head. "Prolly 'cause everyone knows ya need one." He said, trying to brush it off, but that answer was not satisfying. "But then why are there ads for other appliances? Or toilet paper? Everyone knows you need that stuff." You replied. Bo bit his lower lip as he looked up, thinking again. "...well shit, I don't fuckin' know." He admitted. You jumped in the air and made dramatic hand motions. "SEE?! Right?! It's been bothering me all day!!" You exclaimed. Bo rubbed his forehead as he tried to come up with an answer, or perhaps bring forth the memory of a microwave commercial.

You hopped over the back of the couch and settled next to him. "Bo, it's been eating away at me. I can't come up with anything." You whispered. "I can't either...shit! Why is that a thing?!" Bo demanded, you laughed and put your face in your hands. "Nah nah, we're gonna think of something. This shit's gonna eat at me." He said, setting his beer on the coffee table. He was in too deep now. There was no escaping without an answer.

❀Vincent Sinclair❀

Vincent can't really respond to your random questions or factoids, his vocal cords are damaged and he only speaks when necessary. However, he'll listen! Most of the time anyway. Occasionally, they'll be too focused to hear what you're saying, but they'll pause and sign for you to repeat your last sentence. He wants to indulge you.

You'll remind him of Lester when they were all younger. For this reason, they won't get annoyed. They're a seasoned veteran of the random ramblings of an individual with ADHD. That, and it makes him feel at peace hearing you in the background of whatever he's doing. Reminds him of a more peaceful time.

Vincent's an insomniac. He can stay awake to hear your latest info dump, but, if he's exhausted enough? He's gonna pass out. It doesn't matter how loud you're ranting either. He finds your voice soothing and it's hard to stay awake when they're so tired, and you feel so safe. But don't worry, if you want, they'll ask you to start talking about the topic again in the morning. After their coffee, of course.

There was a quiet scraping sound mingling with the bubbling of wax in a large vat in the basement. Vincent's hands worked diligently as he formed the shape of a man's arm, carefully sculpting the subtle curve of a bicep. They were in their zone, completely focused. Taking even, deep breaths as they went to grab a more precise tool.

"VINCENT!"

And the silence was shattered, making the man fumble with the tool, doing a short juggling act until he caught it. He looked over at you bouncing into his workspace, grinning. "Oh! Sorry, did I mess you up?" You asked as you noticed he was working. Vincent let out a sigh and shook their head, allowing you to relax, energy coming back full force. He set his tool down and signed to you. "What's wrong?" He asked, making you shake your head. "Oh nothing, but I just learned something super cool!" You walked closer and pulled up a chair, setting yourself on top of it.

"Do you anything about Egyptian mythology?" You asked with an excited grin. Vincent paused and tapped his fingers a few times on his leg before shaking his head. "Great! Okay, so there's this god, Anubis, also called Anpu or Inpu. He's a deity relating to death and the passing of the people of Egypt. He's got a jackal head most of the time, which is basically a canine. One of the things he's known for is this ceremony where he weighs a heart against a feather to see if it's pure, and if the heart is heavier than the feather, it's impure. So! He'll feed it to this other deity named Ammit. Which would basically mean your soul can't move on to the underworld." You paused to take a deep breath. Vincent had settled in his own seat at this point, listening intently. He'd never been much for mythology aside from his Greek phase in high school. But you were so passionate and admittedly? The factoids were interesting.

They'd gladly listen for hours on end, it made you so happy, how could he not indulge?

❀Lester Sinclair❀

This man is the king of random factoids, are you kidding me? Do you think he wouldn't be as passionate about your random topics? Fool that you are! He has just as many! It's definitely a bonding thing for the two of you.

The things he brings up most are bug & plant related, but he loves learning from you. He's got several learning disabilities so learning from a book is a bit difficult. This is partially why he loves learning from you. Be careful to have your facts straight though.

You could wake him up at two am and get him enraptured in a conversation with ease. He won't be mad, just a bit groggy at first. He utterly adores the fact you're so willing to share the things you're passionate about, no matter how random they are. And Lester is elated that you return the favor.

Wood shavings fell to the ground as Lester whistled a tune, carving a new knife handle out of some old cherry oak he'd found. He'd hoped to give this one to Bo, in order to replace the switchblade the man had that was starting to give up on him. It was peaceful on his cabin porch. Birds chirping, bugs buzzing, trees only swaying in a slight breeze. He stopped his whistling tune when he heard the screen door creak open and saw you walk out. He smiled as you sat beside him. "Afternoon' sugar." He greeted.

"Lester, I need you to confirm something for me." You said with an intense look. The man rose an eyebrow and looked you over. "Alright...what is it?" He asked. He watched you inhale deeply and finally open your mouth with the question. "Is it true that there are creatures in the ocean that look like tiny bunnies but they're slugs?" Lester blinked before he laughed a bit, a grin stretching across his face. "Yeah, there are! They're called sea bunnies! They're real small critters, buncha slugs in the ocean look real cool. There's one that looks like 's made of leaves too. It eats like a plant too! That photosin-photo, whatever's called." He mumbled. You gasped loudly.

"There are sea slugs that can photosynthesize?! Oh my god!" You cheered. Lester snickered and nodded vigorously. "Baby, I thought they were fake! They're so small and cute, I just wanna squish'em." You explained, making a little squishing motion with your hand. Lester hummed in agreement. "There's this other one. Looks like a dragon, but ya can't pick'em up 'cause they're real poisonous." He said, feeling his heart swell as you let out a sad whine. "All the cool things are poisonous." You complained. You looked back at him with adoration and a smile made from sunshine. "Can you tell me more about random animal stuff?" Lester couldn't have been happier to hear you ask. "Well, don't mind if I do." He adjusted himself in his seat, feeling joy rush through his brain as he started his factoid rant.

❀Thomas Hewitt❀

Alright, he's neurodivergent, but he's never been the type to info dump or even deeply explore his interests. Mostly because he's never had the time or ability. However, seeing how deep you get into your stuff will probably inspire him to indulge himself more.

He doesn't know what a hyperfixation is but he'll relate if you tell him about it. Thomas' tend to be things like sewing and, fittingly enough, mechanics of things like chainsaws. He used to be into old cars when he was younger but Luda Mae would often tell him not to poke around, for fear he'd get hurt by something.

Thomas finds your ease around him cathartic. Sometimes, when you're rambling, he won't be fully listening. Not because he doesn't care but because he's too focused on the fact you're with him. Even when he's at his most exhausted, he'll always find time and energy to watch you be passionate. To share those things with him? It feels unreal sometimes.

Thomas huffed as he tossed a small bale of hale towards a pile in the back of the dilapidated barn. Sweat rolled down his skin, which he wiped with the fabric of his shirt. He tilted his neck and only slightly winced when it cracked loudly. "Tommy!" And there it went again, feeling his heart melt and his stress fade away. Usually when his name was called it meant someone needed something, that he was about to be insulted, that he was doing something wrong. But not with you. No, you always said his name in the sweetest tone. He turned to face you, watching you run up to the barn with a smile. You remembered to step over the board at the entrance since it had unhidden nails.

"Tommy! Okay, baby, I know you're working but can I tell you about something really cool?" He exhaled and his gaze softened. With a deep grunt and a nod, he moved a hay bale off to the side and motioned to it. You cooed and walked up, sitting down on the bale with a grin. "You're a sweetheart." You praised, making him blush. "Okay, so, you know how Native Americans have super rich history? And like, they even have things akin to cryptids and they have their own folklore?" Thomas nodded as he went back to work, showing he was still listening.

"Alright, well, don't take my word for everything here because I may be wrong on some of it. But! There are these things called skinwalkers, in English anyway. They're a thing most notably spoken about from Indigenous tribes around the southwest, like here and Oklahoma and stuff. Typically they're described as shapeshifting beings with deformed, almost, humanoid bodies. The origins kind of vary based on where you get it from, but some traditions say that they used to be powerful medicine men who succumbed to evil. Some other origins think that they're people who committed a deep sin." Your hands moved with your words and you occasionally paused as to not stutter over the words. Though it was a taboo topic to speak about and not something Thomas would've ever sought out, he listened. Pausing his work to stare at you lovingly as you rambled about a creature that was probably pretty nightmare-inducing. He couldn't bring himself to be disturbed. Only succumb to the adoration in his chest.

❀Bubba Sawyer❀

Bubba's neurodivergent as well, they have their hyperfixations, but sadly can't share them much. One, because her family often expressed annoyance so she's no longer willing to show them. Two, she can't really talk. He's only able to babble things that sometimes sound kind of like words.

But oh, oh he ADORES when you share your interests or ask him weird questions. It brings him so much joy. And they feel so seen when you acknowledge they want to share something with you as well. You become Bubba's hyperfixation safe space and he returns the effort tenfold. (Her fixations are jewelry & fashion magazines)

She'll never not listen to you. Of course, if he's working, he'll need to be focused on that. But you're more than welcome to sit nearby and keep talking. They take note of everything you say, and if it's something he can find and give to you? They'll search for something you'll like so hard every chance they get.

Bubba patted his hands on his lap as you sewed a hole in his apron. Though Bubba knew how to sew, and enjoyed it, sometimes their big hands made it difficult. That and their random muscle spasms. But, you were always willing to help, something that made his love for you triple almost every day. You smiled as she leaned in to watch you work more closely. "You know, Bubs. Maybe I should make you a dress. I have a few designs I think you'd look great in." You said. Bubba's brown eyes widened and she squealed, watching you finish the stitch, placing the needle down. As soon as he was sure you wouldn't get pricked, he squeezed you in his arms, making you laugh.

You set his apron in his lap and stood up, grabbing a busted-up sketchbook that they'd grabbed off a meal once. You sat back beside her and flipped open to a page. Bubba flapped her hands excitedly as she caught sight of a chubby figure in the concept of a flowy dress. "See, I tried to consider what would be best with your work. I figured sleeves would get in the way so I kept them either short or just as straps, adjustable of course." You explained as you pointed to the sketches. "I mostly took inspiration from those magazines you have. Most of those dresses have shirt tops and blouson cuts, but I couldn't help myself by when I imagined you in a sundress." Your smile grew wider as Bubba wiggled in place, letting out happy squeals and excited squeaks.

You began to ramble about different waist cuts and fabric patterns, colors that you felt would compliment Bubba's skin tone. Eventually ending up in his lap as he squeezed you, rocking back and forth. Feeling adored and cared for. No one else had ever put in this effort to indulge her and she felt ready to cry from joy. You hummed and turned a page. "You know, I think a babydoll cut nightgown would also be real cute on you.~" You purred, going to slowly turn the page again. Bubba caught sight of a slightly revealing babydoll cut "nightgown", with detailed lace, clearly meant to be a bit see-through. They squeaked and covered their face. You laughed fondly and reached to place kisses on the backs of their knuckles.

❀Stu Macher❀

Again, you think this dude doesn't have ADHD? There ain't no way in hell. This man is a poster child for unmedicated ADHD if I've ever seen one. His hyperfixations being horror movies and true crime, clearly. He loves to have someone to rant about these things with, but a lot of people aren't down with it. Imagine his joy when he found out you were. And even more so when you do the same back.

He's a bit hard to get into things that don't already interest him. But, he does his best to listen anyway, since you do that with him. However, if you have a similar interest to him? Stu is all over that shit. He finds you so sexy when you rant about the cinematography of your favorite movie or the psyche of a fictional killer.

If you know you have ADHD and tell him, you might actually be able to convince him to get tested. It won't change anything, but Stu being on meds would probably help him out in school...or it would just help him be more down to earth. That's wishful thinking though.

"Babe! Baby, babe babe babebabebabe!" Your voice cut over the movie Stu was watching, making him pause it. The image of Jason standing in a doorway to a cabin fizzled and glitched on the old TV. He laughed when you dove over the back of the couch, setting down the snacks and drinks you brought, quickly turning to face him. "I have theories and I need to spill them before I forget about them." You said. Stu grabbed a soda and cracked it open. "Well spill then baby! I'm all ears!" He grinned, taking a large gulp of Dr.Pepper. You got yourself comfortable and cleared your throat, starting off with a deep breath. "It's about the Ghostface killings recently." Now that caught his attention. "Yeah? What'cha got, babe?" Twisted excitement formed in his chest as he awaited your words.

"I don't think there's one killer, I think there's two." His brain sparked up and his heartbeat arose, leaning his arm on the back of the couch as he listened. "See cause, when Casey was in her house, she was called on the phone and the killer talked to her right? They probably were giving her things to make her think she could survive, if it were me I'd choose...like, a trivia thing. Get the answers right, ya live. But of course she didn't They killed her boyfriend on the porch while she was still on the phone, but then evidence showed someone was in the house to hunt her down. That doesn't make sense! There would be no feasible way only one person could utterly tear Steve's organs out and then get into the house without her noticing. She probably had both doors locked anyway! But, if someone else was already inside while a second killer Jack-The-Ripper-style killed Steve, it would make so much more sense!"

Stu ran his tongue along his lower lip, watching you get more animated and invested into your theory. Despite talking about a recent murder of peers, the terrifying concept that there were two people out there ready to commit horrific acts, you were smiling. Buzzing off excitement while talking about a murder. "And! The amount of strength and time it would've taken to tie her and pull her over a tree branch, not being seen? One person doing that is hard to believe, but two people? That's a piece of cake!" You declared, only to be cut off by a passionate kiss to the mouth. It silenced you for a moment, but it didn't do anything to your stuttering heartbeat. Stu pulled back with a smug grin. "You're so sexy when you dissect murder plans." He said. You snorted and let out a loud laugh. "I'm a fuckin' freak, huh?" Stu laughed. "And I love it, baby!"

❀Billy Loomis❀

He deals with Stu every day, he's used to it. Billy's not one who infodumps or hyperfixates, but he's not incredibly annoyed by it. Most of the time anyway.

If you catch him in a bad mood, he might ask you to be quiet, but it's not personal. It's not that he doesn't care or anything, he's just not in the mood for a lot of information being said to him at a fast rate. Most of the time though, he'll be perfectly fine with it.

He won't really get into it with you, but he'll support your interests and occasionally entertain your weird questions. Billy's particularly happy if your hyperfixation benefits him, however. Like with Stu, true crime & horror movies are things he's always willing to hear about.

Billy paused the movie and looked over. "You've been chewing on your lip this entire time, just spit it out." He said bluntly, though he had a calm smile on his face. Both of you were sat in your bedroom on your bed, watching a copy of Halloween H20 that you'd rented. Billy didn't really like movie talkers so you'd tried your best to hold it all in until the end, even if you had a million things to say. But he knew better and he was in a good mood. As long as you weren't talking over the movie, he wouldn't have a problem. He bit back an amused snicker as you let out a relieved breath and got ready to rant.

"I was just thinking if there was maybe a reason Michael can survive so much. Cause like, he is human. He needs to eat, we hear him breathe, even if he doesn't die he does get wounded by people attacking him. So it's not that he's a demon, even if Loomis calls him pure evil, so maybe there's a medical reason he can withstand all that!" You began. Billy set the remote down and pulled himself up to sit against the headboard, crossing his arms and nodding, urging you to continue. "Okay, so, hear me out. What if he just has a surplus of stem cells? Like, they're out of control." You said, starting to talk with your hands. "Stem cells? Remind me what those are again."

You huffed and muttered something fondly about how he failed biology. He snorted at the comment. "Stem cells come from your bone marrow and they're what helps you heal from stuff. Like, if a section of your liver is removed? Stem cells will make the organ grow back to the perfect size for your body. When we get older, they tend to slow down, which is why it takes longer to heal from stuff. But theoretically, if Michael just has a fuck ton, he could come back from almost anything. As long as he has bone marrow, he'd keep producing stem cells, and he'd keep healing. At that rate, even old age couldn't kill him. Old age doesn't kill you, it's just your body's functions shutting down because of old dying cells." Billy hummed and rose his eyebrows, considering your theory for a moment. He then nodded with a smile. "That would actually make a lot of sense. A lot better than the cult idea." You beamed. "Thank you! Also yeah, that movie was fuckin' awful." He laughed and opened his arm, allowing you to lay against him. "You gonna let it play now?" He asked, to which you nodded. He patted your arm and grabbed the remote, allowing the movie to play again.

❀Brahms Heelshire❀

Aight, he's autistic, he doesn't have ADHD. He needs strict structure, he has no idea how you just wing everything. You're all over the place! It's frustrating! ...sometimes, other times it's fun to watch and listen to you. Brahms hasn't ever really had friends, not ones that seem so excited to talk to him anyway. It's a nice change, actually.

He'll start to be more comfortable with sharing his own thoughts on things he's really into. Brahms has never been able to speak for an hour on a chapter in a book before, and he feels really at ease when you listen to him. He's a bit hypocritical and occasionally tunes you out when you're ranting, but he'll usually try to listen.

Brahms is amazed at how many topics you can seemingly flow into, even when starting on something completely unrelated. He's endlessly entertained by you, so much so, that it'll occasionally make up for you accidentally letting time get away from you and going off schedule. Occasionally.

Brahms cleaned his brush as you spoke, running it over a napkin to dry it off and ensure it wasn't holding any more of the green paint. You'd been rambling for an hour now, more so to yourself than to him. The noise was a nice change from the deafening silence that he'd been used too in the walls. Brahms lifted his mask slightly to take a bit of the sandwich you'd made him, allowing himself to tune back into your rant. "Actually, some people have said that there's a stage of decomposition where the stench is almost sickeningly sweet. I've never smelt it like that though, the stench of death is pretty recognizable as not sweet." Brahms stopped mid-chew and stared at you. Where in the hell had you gotten this from? He could've sworn you started on food first.

"I wonder if cannibals found that smell appealing, actually. Maybe they considered it the "still safe to eat" time for when a body is already dead. I imagine they'd want it fresh though." You muttered whilst putting away a glass. "Actually! Interesting fact, some cannibals have described human meat as being akin to pork, just with a strong & bitter aftertaste. And the more muscular someone is, the chewier they are. Also I think I read once that tattoo ink has a terrible taste, which would make sense I suppose. In history, human was sometimes described as long pig or hairless goat!" Brahms cleared his throat and snapped you out of your train of thought. You made eye contact with him through his porcelain mask, seeing his look of confusion and slight concern. You chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't know why I know these things, but I promise it's not from personal experience." You reassured.

Brahms sighed and shook his head. You untensed a bit when he let out a little chuckle, one that was deep and genuine, not covered by his "child" voice. "You have got to be the most interesting nanny I've ever had." He said, accent thick as he spoke. Your face heated up and you let out a soft laugh, nodding. "Probably the most out there for sure. I'll take that as a compliment and uh, stop talking about cannibalism now." Brahms nodded and took another bite of his sandwich, pushing the chair out next to him with his leg. You took it with a smile. "How about you talk instead, hm?" You offered. Brahms cleared his throat again and nodded, he had plenty of things to discuss. Perhaps the eras of painting styles would be a good choice.

(bet you thought the cannibalism was gonna be in Thomas or Bubba's huh? YOU THOUGHT WRONG)

[magniloquent-raven]

I am once again plagued with thoughts that aren't 100% coherent so imma just ramble for a bit, pls gather 'round for some stuff about Billy and body image issues cuz I'm in my feels rn.

Billy spends a lot of time staring at Nancy.

Enough that Tommy's noticed and he starts ribbing him about it. "That's one thing of Steve's you might want to stay away from," bitter and pointed. Enough that Jonathan Byers gives him the stink eye whenever he's within glaring distance. Enough that a handful of the more desperate chicks still high off the fumes of his New Kid smell have started dressing like fucking librarians in hopes of catching his eye.

He doesn't give a shit about any of it, if anything the rumour mill is helping him out for once. Less work involved in keeping up appearances if everyone just assumes he isn't sleeping around because he's too busy sniffing Wheeler's granny panties.

As long as no one guesses the real reason, it's fine. It's fucking peachy. It's one silver lining in this shitstorm of a situation.

He's so tired of his eyes inevitably being drawn to her barely-there tits and tiny waist. Every time he's bored at lunch, his gaze wanders. When he's in the library pretending to study, there she fucking is, even smaller when she's hunched over a pile of cue cards.

The longer he looks at her the more sure he is that Steve will never really want him.

Steve's slept with plenty of girls. A variety of girls. He probably couldn't afford to be too picky in this shitty little town. But he's only fallen in love once. One time. The only time it mattered what he was sticking his dick in was when it was in Nancy Wheeler.

And Billy...will never be her. Not even close.

He'll only ever be a warm mouth and a convenient hand, he'll never matter.

She's flat, and thin. Willowy, narrow-shouldered. Petite. Inches shorter than him and nearly half as broad. Thin fingers and delicate wrists. She fit comfortably under Steve's arm, she could nestle safely into his side.

And it was all so fucking easy for her. She never had to try.

She never had to piss off her dad so she'd be forced to skip meals. She never did laps around her neighbourhood until she was lightheaded and doubled over, dry-heaving in someone's hedge. She was never forced to sign up for baseball as a child, poked and prodded and guilted into it because a couple shirts were starting to get tight across the stomach, and being a momma's boy was bad enough, being a fat, lazy piece of shit too was unacceptable.

He used to think he'd done well, maintaining the physique he has. He's worked hard for it. Scraping together his savings for a weight set and keeping careful track of his calorie intake and never skipping a single fucking day of exercise, hangovers and broken bones be damned. And it's fucking useful, truth be told. More than keeping away the echo of old insults bouncing around in his head, it's made flirting that much easier.

But the more he looks at Nancy Wheeler, the more he hates the things he can't change. It gets into his head. Digs in deep, leaving scars on its way down.

He thinks Steve might've noticed.

He knows Steve has heard the stupid rumours about Wheeler, and probably chalked it up to Billy being an asshole, as usual. But it's harder to explain away his sudden tendency to go extremely still whenever Steve puts his hands anywhere on his torso. A palm pressed to his chest, slipped under his shirt, or fingertips digging into his back, or a casual fucking pat on the shoulder—whatever it is, he can't help freezing up, if only for a second, a sick feeling twisting his stomach, cold and shameful and clawing at his lungs.

And then, eventually, they argue.

It's over nothing. And everything. Billy can't explain what his fucking damage is, and Steve can't stop needling in the wrong places. They scream at each other until their throats are raw and Billy leaves when his knuckles start to itch.

He cries all the way home and doesn't eat for four days. Not on purpose. Not consciously. He's just. Fucking. Busy. He's busy. He's always gotta drive Max somewhere or dodge Neil's thinly veiled threats or lock himself in his room when bile starts to bubble up in the back of his throat and his head pounds and he doesn't think about why he's snapping at everyone constantly, he just pounds back a couple beers and goes to sleep. And then it's four days later, and he's flying off the handle at Neil, too sluggish and lightheaded to see the hit coming, and...

Steve comes to see him at the hospital. He hasn't told anyone anything but they've got him hooked up to a banana bag and the nurses keep making sad eyes at him when they come to check his stitches.

He hates it, sitting around doing nothing, being closely monitored every fucking second, it make his skin crawl, and he hates it even more when Steve's standing in the doorway looking at him.

Not for the first time, he's overwhelmed wondering what exactly Steve sees.

He's a fucking mess right now. Greasy hair tangled at the back, bruises peeking out from under the collar of his gross papery hospital gown, one eye swollen shut and a dark tangle of thread holding his eyebrow together. It feels stupid to get stressed about all the shit that usually bothers him when there's so many other things to worry about, but he still finds himself shifting in place, hunching his shoulders, hiding his hands in the crooks of his elbows.

It's sort of a disaster. Worse than last time they saw each other. Billy's not in the mood for Steve's apologies and Steve's at a loss for what else to say.

They don't see each other again for months. Steve graduates. Billy avoids anywhere he thinks Steve might be, and lies awake at night haunted by stolen touches.

He catches a glimpse of Steve through the red haze of storm clouds and cold lightning, tears blurring his vision, the Mind Flayer wearing him like a suit. Their cars collide, and everything whites out for a second.

He's in the hospital again when they finally talk. Billy rolls his eyes at "We've gotta stop meeting like this," and tries not to think about last time he was here. Steve seems more than willing to ignore it. Move forward. Guess demonic possession puts some things into a different perspective.

When Billy's released from the hospital he's seventeen pounds heavier than he was a few months ago. Every time the nurses did their check-ups and put him on the scale they'd pat his elbow, smiling encouragingly, telling him how good he was doing while he watched his stomach get softer, his biceps get less defined, watched himself disappear beneath a layer of fat.

The first thing he does when he gets home is throw up.

He doesn't make it happen. It just happens. And he blames it on the meds they have him on. It's a plausible enough reason, and it means he doesn't have to interrogate the tiny spark of satisfaction he got from losing his lunch.

His second day back home Neil asks him when he's going to start exercising again. His expression is pinched. Cold. His eyes are ice chips freezing Billy's skin wherever they touch, lingering on the softness under his chin, and where the hem of his sleeve pinches his skin.

He pushes his dinner away and grits out an answer from between clenched teeth.

He doesn't need the reminder that he's gotten weak while he was trapped in a hospital bed, but Neil gives it to him anyways. Tells him all about everything he should do to get things back to normal. Push past the pain. Work harder. He tunes it out after a while, and watches grease congeal on his meatloaf.

Eddie Munson is the first person to bring up the things Billy's never known how to talk about.

They started hanging out after Billy's most recent brush with death. Billy's not sure exactly how the got here, from buying the occasional painkiller and letting the guy wax poetic about his dumb band, to spending weekends getting high together at the trailer park. But as weird things in his life go, it's barely worth questioning.

This particular conversation starts with Chrissy Cunningham.

Specifically, Eddie's massive boner for her.

Billy's been noticing it for a while. He hasn't been letting it bother him.

He hasn't.

Maybe he likes the way Eddie smiles at him when they pass a joint back and forth, lazily stretched out and wearing three less layers than usual, and maybe he thinks about closing the distance between them when Eddie offers to shotgun, but it doesn't fucking matter. Just like it doesn't matter that Steve hasn't touched him since before the Mind Flayer and things are fucking weird now that they're on speaking terms again. None of it matters, he's just a fucking idiot.

Because Steve and his new best friend Robin are attached at the hip lately and everyone can see where that's going, and Eddie won't stop talking about tiny, pretty, perfect fucking Chrissy and her stupid ponytail.

And Billy...Billy gets winded walking up the porch steps at his house now. And he pulled a muscle in his back trying to lift half the weight he used to press. And last week he burned three pairs of jeans in the backyard because he kept grabbing them out of his laundry pile, not realizing they don't fit anymore until he was struggling to pull them up past his knees.

He's lost the one thing people used to actually like about him. Never the people he wanted, he was never enough for that, but it was something. Now he's just...

Now he's just listening to a guy he likes talk about some goddamn cheerleader like she personally hung the moon just for him.

And he's drunk. They're both drunk. Eddie in a soppy, embarrassing way, with a sparkle in his eye and a flush on his cheeks, an arm across the back of the couch, outstretched far enough that the tips of his fingers almost brush Billy's shoulder.

He wants to move closer. Thinks about shuffling into Eddie's space, curling into the warmth at his side. But it twists in his guts, sours, sickens—he couldn't, he can't. And he hates himself for wanting to.

"What do you see in her?" spills out of his mouth, bitter on his tongue and sharpened by anger he has no right to feel.

She's pretty. He expects it. She's pretty, she's perfect. She's a fucking angel even though her and Eddie only know each other because she buys drugs off of him. But she can do no wrong because she looks like a little china doll with sad eyes and everyone would be devastated if a single hair on her tiny delicate head was harmed.

Eddie only looks thrown off for a second. A moment. But he shrugs it off, leans his head back against the couch cushions and grins at the ceiling. "She likes my music."

Since fucking when.

"So, what, it's just an ego stroking thing then."

"Nah, man. I mean. Like. She's got this whole good-girl thing going on, but you should see her when I pull out my guitar, it's fuckin'...magic. When she lets herself just. Live." He wiggles his fingers in the air, arms spread, then drops them back down.

Billy's heart clenches, squeezes. It hurts and he doesn't know why. "Bullshit."

"Nah, nah. Seriously. The guy she's dating is a fucking asshole. And her mom..." he trails off, and rubs his eye. "She's just got all this pressure to be perfect, act a certain way, look a certain way, be a certain way, and I hate seeing what it does to her, man. I hate it. No one should have to deal with all that. So. I dunno. I like helping her cut loose. Sorta, find herself, I guess." He cracks a crooked smile, casting a glance in Billy's direction.

And his smile drops.

"Billy?" He sits up, cautious, eyebrows up and his eyes wide.

Billy turns away, shocked into motion, wiping at his face with his sleeve. "I'm fine. Fuck off."

He didn't notice he was crying until Eddie looked at him like he'd seen a ghost.

"Yeah, obviously."

"Fuck you."

Eddie doesn't get much more out of him that night. But he starts watching Billy like a hawk after that. Checking in on him at random. Calling if they haven't seen each other in a few days. It should be irritating as fuck, and he acts like it is, but he still basks in the attention.

Doesn't hurt that it seems to annoy Steve to no end.

Especially doesn't hurt when, in a fit of apparent jealousy, Steve shoves Billy into a wall and kisses him like his life depends on it.

The hurt comes when Steve starts to unbutton Billy's shirt and Billy reflexively shoves him away, when he wants to keep going but wants it to stop and can't tell Steve either of those things because he doesn't have the words.

So he gets angry. At Steve, for pushing it, crossing lines he can't even see. But mostly at himself, because it might be easier than standing there heartbroken but he knows it's the worst thing he could do.

And at Steve, again, when the he doesn't respond the way he should. Doesn't punish Billy for doing the wrong thing, reacting wrong, being wrong. He doesn't withdraw and save himself, he tries to understand, tries to talk it out, like this is something Billy can just say out loud and it'll all be fixed.

He doesn't explain. Not that day. But he lets Steve hold him while he cries, ugly gasping sobs into the front of Steve's shirt, curled up in his lap, collapsed on the floor and tangled together. Because despite everything he's told himself, he does fit comfortably in Steve's arms.

💜tag list ppl💜 @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you @suddenlyinlove

[obitohno]

fantasising about husband! aki who can no longer hide just how much he longs for you when you accidentally walk in on him.

fem! reader, 18+, friends to lovers, semi-angst, marriage of convenience, fluff, love confessions, mutual pining, (male) masturbation, making out, fingering, sitting cowgirl, dick riding, vaginal creampie

3.9k (unedited)

reblogs are appreciated ~

it’s embarrassing, really, just how quickly aki adapts to a life dominated by your presence, and yet, it happens so naturally, that without realising, he’s accepting it as easily as he does breathing. 

with the both of you now settling into the final years of your twenties, your marriage had been born from the promise of companionship, should neither of you settle with a partner of your own. it was you who had drunkenly slurred the idea after he’d accompanied you home after a night out—rambling something about how much you loved him—and because you were so stupidly inebriated, you had shrieked with laughter when he’d actually agreed. 

the promise isn’t mentioned again for the two years that had followed, until a few months after aki’s twenty-eighth birthday, and it is denji, of all people, who brings it up. in truth, after ignoring it for so long, you’d actually forgotten all about that particular night, and so, after aki shoos denji away with a carefully aimed glare, you’re pleasantly surprised when he then proposes that the two of you marry, because—in his very own words—it made sense. 

it’s not quite the proposal that you’d imagined when you were far younger, enamoured by the idea of marrying your very own prince charming, and yet, it’s all too easy to agree, and a month later, your life is eternally tied to aki’s with a single signature upon a piece of paper. 

only, a year later, and the relationship that is shared between the two of you remains strictly platonic. 

you aren’t exactly sure what you had been hoping to change once the two of you married, but even power has begun to notice that your marriage with aki isn’t at all what it’s made up to be. 

‘you don’t share a bed?!’ she’d exclaimed one evening after coming to visit and poking her nose around your bedroom long enough to discover that the wardrobe is home only to your clothes. 

‘we’re friends,’ you’d stressed, brows furrowing. 

‘yeah,’ denji had piped up from somewhere down the hall, head buried within the depths of your fridge, ‘but you’re married.’ 

‘hm, hm,’ power had nodded, agreeing, and you’d had to hide your grimace by busying yourself with shoving her from your bedroom and clicking the door shut behind you. 

the conversation had quickly changed after denji had convinced you to accompany them to lunch—‘cause you’ve got nothin’ in—but it’s still one that you catch yourself thinking about when you tuck yourself into bed each night. 

lately, more often than not, he’s the reasoning behind your last thought at night, and the first when you rouse from sleep in the morning. at first, you chalk it down to the fact that now the two of you live together, it’s only natural that he’s who you think of when ordering takeout, because it’s also obvious that you’d wonder what he’d like to eat tonight. it’s also totally normal for hope to rear its familiar heat in the centre of your chest when you return home from work—because, why on earth wouldn’t you pray that he made it home safe and sound? and, of course, it’s just curtesy to ask if he’d like to join you when you’re watching one of those shitty chick flicks that are shown every friday evening, hiding your smirk behind a cushion when he grumbles under his breath about how terrible the movie is, but still comes to slouch on the settee beside you, your feet nestled on his lap. 

there’s nothing unusual about marrying your best friend. 

at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

until, one night, everything changes. 

it’s new year’s, and your small group of friends have gathered to denji and power’s apartment. 

it’s just the four of you crammed onto the small settee, a concoction of what smells to be both vodka and beer glaring up at you from the depths of the glass that power had shoved into the palm of your hand upon arrival. you haven’t yet dared to take a sip. 

there’s another of those shitty chick flicks playing in the background, but no one is really paying attention to the screen, all eyes focusing on the clock that has been pinned—lopsided—onto the wall. there are only a few minutes until midnight, and suddenly, you’re all too aware of the heat of aki’s thigh pressing to your own, his arm brushing against yours when he lifts a hand to push a loose strand of hair from his face. tonight, the inky tresses are free from their usual tie, and for a reason known only to the heavens, you can’t stop glancing at him from the corner of your eye. it’s not as if you’re a stranger to this particular hairdo, but tonight, the blues of his hair entice your stare back toward him, over and over, and the more you do so, the more confused you become. 

fortunately, power pins your attention onto her when she all but throws her weight onto your shoulder, giggling loudly, ‘hey, hey!’ 

‘hey,’ you hum down at her, vaguely aware of denji jumping from his seat, hopping over the back of the settee, and disappearing down the hallway.

power leans forward so that her cheek is pressed to yours. the stench of beer is heavy on her breath, and when your nose crinkles, she only laughs harder. ‘you guys gonna kiss?’ 

you don’t have to look to know that aki is staring at the back of your head. awkwardly, you clear your throat, unable to hide your wince in time. denji returns, bowl of freshly cooked fries in hand. he’s already shovelling a handful into his mouth, belatedly remembering to share by shoving the bowl under power’s nose so suddenly that, in her surprise, her left foot kicks out and connects with his knee. he howls, the bowl dropped to his lap, and power snatches it, scoffing down a mouthful herself. cheeks stuffed, she points to the clock, and a garbled yelp of excitement escapes her. 

‘look, look!’ 

there’s just a minute left. 

a warm hand eases over your crown, and the way that your spine relaxes is instantaneous. it’s reflex, the way that you curl into his side—as you have hundreds of times before—and you pointedly ignore the way that power jabs her elbow into denji’s flank, his eyes watering as he chokes on another mouthful of fries. 

the clock tick-tocks, and the tip of a nose is ghosting over the shell of your ear. his fingers tickle down the back of your neck, and the brush of his lips at your temple welcomes you into the new year. 

it’s not quite the kiss that you’d hoped for, once, when you still dreamt of new year kisses way back in your teen years, and yet, your pulse skips a beat all the same. 

‘happy new year,’ he murmurs to your cheek, thumb slipping to press to your pulse, and you know that he can feel the way that it stutters, faltering beneath his touch. 

it’s just aki, you tell yourself, because it’s easier to lie than it is to acknowledge the way that your stomach twists itself into knots. 

from over your shoulder, you peek towards him, unsurprised to see that his stare is already focused on you. he blinks, once, twice, and something in his eye shifts, his lids drooping as his gaze lowers to your mouth. subconsciously, your lips part, as if to say something—anything—to save yourself from the press of the pad of his thumb at your throat, but all that comes out is a stuttered repeat of his sentiment, the words choked upon when that damned thumb of his strokes over the length of your jugular. 

clearing your throat, you try again, despite the fact that you’re sure he can feel the perspiration that has begun to form on the surface of your skin. you force a smile, one that is returned by the crooking of the corner of his mouth, and you will yourself to feign indifference, even though you’re sure that he can feel the way that your pulse jumps at the sight. 

‘happy new year, aki.’ 

ଓ

the new year passes. 

the world settles into its usual routine, and things in your shared apartment appear to be just as normal. 

only, they’re not. 

aki has always been a constant in your life, this, you’re grateful for. yet, after new year’s, something changes between two of you. you’re a little slow to realise that all too suddenly, he’s everywhere. 

he’s there when you’re stirring your morning coffee, squinty eyed as he smiles when you thank him for boiling the kettle for you because you’re running a tad late this morning. it isn’t until you’re rushing out of the apartment, handbag swinging on your shoulder, that you realise that he is the one who is late for work, as he’s usually out of the door at least an hour before you drag yourself from your bed. 

he’s also there when you’re returning home from work, waiting to greet you as you’re kicking your shoes from your feet and slumping onto the settee with an exhausted groan of relief. the tips of his fingers are kneading at the ache that has formed in the arch of your foot, and you fail to realise that he’s staring at the column of your throat, as your eyes are closed. this happens once, twice, and upon the third time, you’ve started to become a tad suspicious, because usually, he doesn’t arrive home until long after the clock reads six pm. 

a month later, when he catches you kicking at the boiler because it’s stopped working, again, it is he who calls to have it fixed. in the meantime, he leaves freshly boiled hot water bottles outside of the bathroom door, ready for you to bundle into your dressing gown after you finish bathing under an uncomfortable spray of cold water. you’re a little dramatic, sure, when you exclaim that the cold is going to be the death of you, biting the inside of your cheek to hide the smile that tugs at your lips when he huffs, rolls his eyes, but still takes your hands in his to warm your fingers. 

another month passes quickly, and another, and another. you’ve grown long accustomed to the fingers that stroke at your elbow whenever he passes by, to the knowing smiles that conceal secrets that you’re not privy to, hidden behind the rim of his mug as he all but inhales yet another mouthful of coffee. he still comments on your shitty chick flicks, yet, sometimes, you compromise, and he forces you to sit through a range of disaster films that stretch on for almost three hours at a time. oftentimes, you’re falling asleep beneath the blanket that he’d thrown over you just an hour or so before, and yet when you wake, you’re tucked into the comfort of your own bed. 

all too soon, you find that each smile, each brush of his fingers, each cup of coffee, each hot water bottle, and each blasted three hour disaster film, are all driving toward something that you can’t control. 

spring arrives, and with it, so does the realisation that you are helplessly in love. 

and yet, it isn’t you who confesses first. 

today, exhaustion has you sent home from work an hour earlier than usual. again, aki’s brogues are stacked neatly on the shoe rack when you step inside, the front door clicking shut behind you. you’re too tired to ponder on the reason why he’s home far earlier than he should be, your feet kicking themselves free from the shape of your heels. the relief is instant, and a sigh has your chest heaving, shoulders slumping low enough for the strap of your handbag to slip down to the crook of your elbow. you allow it to thump to the floor, and you can already hear aki’s voice reprimanding you, but you’re shattered, and right now, all you want to do is go to bed. 

rolling your neck until it cricks, you shuffle your way down the hall, pausing by the living room door to see that the television is switched on, but muted. a brow raising, you move on, only to halt when you hear a noise coming from inside your room. if you were more alert, you probably would have hesitated just a second longer, but before you can stop, and think, your hand is twisting at the door handle, the door flying open. 

and there, sprawled across your bed, buried within your sheets, lies aki. 

only, aki is naked. 

the sheets are draped over his legs, his thighs spread, and between them, his cock stands proud, leaking an iridescent mess all over his knuckles. his abdomen is tense, muscles taunt underneath the surface of his skin, and your eyes linger for a moment too long before you acknowledge just what is happening. 

‘what the—?’ 

aki actually shrieks.

then, at the same time, you both yell at one another, the merge of your voices displaying varying tones of mortification:

‘what the fuck?!’ 

‘in my bed—seriously?!’ 

horrified, you’re spinning back towards the door, and he’s scrambling from the bed, and there’s a fumble, and all of a sudden, his fingers are curled around your wrist, and he’s begging you to stay, but all you can focus on is the wet of his knuckles pressing to your skin, and you blurt:

‘is that your wank hand?’ 

you’re not even looking at him, but you hear the stutter of his breath and his grip is tightening, ‘my… my what?’ 

you exhale loudly, skin aflame with embarrassment, ‘your wank hand—it’s… it’s wet.’ 

‘fuck, fuck,’ his fingers are all but ripped from your skin, and he’s stumbling somewhere behind you, cursing under his breath. curiosity has you daring to peek over you shoulder, but it appears that you’ve misjudged his ability to dress quickly, as he’s only just shoving a leg through the crumbled leg of his favourite sweatpants. and again, your stare is lingering between his legs, where his prick is starting to droop, his arousal now forgotten. only, he catches your stare, and he somehow stubs his toe on the bedside table, yelling another curse as he trips, falling flat on his arse as he does so. he’s wide eyed, a smattering of red staining both the bridge of his nose and the crests of his cheeks, and you can only gawk back at him, bewildered. 

for a long moment, there’s a tense silence that stretches between the two of you. 

you remain by the doorway, and he hasn’t moved from the floor, staring at you just as intensely as you stare at him. 

and then: 

‘i love you.’ 

your lips part, your mouth opens, and then it closes. again, you try, your tongue fumbling against the inside of your cheek, your breath catching in the back of your throat. again, your pulse is hurtling angrily at the side of your neck. again, your gaze slips, eyelids lowering, aimed between his legs, to where his cock is still half-hard, resting against the crease of which his hip meets his thigh. 

eyes snapping toward his, you squeak, ‘come again?’

he clears his throat, glancing at your mouth, once, twice, and then croaks, ‘i love you.’ 

your knees crumble, bending to accommodate your weight as you crouch before him. your face is buried into the palms of your hands, and your chest heaves as a tiny sob is forced from between your lips. there’s a relief, a hot, burning sensation that prickles at your stomach, and although this isn’t the kind of confession that you’ve dared to imagine, it’s a confession all the same. 

‘god, fuck, aki—’

he’s scoffing on a laugh, one that sounds as painful as it feels, and his hand is reaching to tug at yours so that he can see your face. ‘s’this where you say you don’t feel the same?’ 

you’re laughing—wetly, but still, it’s a laugh—and instead of answering his question, you ask: 

‘is that your wank hand?’ 

this time, he’s snorting, and his hands are pulling at you just as he’s leaning close enough that the bridge of his nose bumps to yours. it’s the only warning that you’ll receive, one that you deem unnecessary, as you’re already meeting him halfway, chin tilting upward just as his lips mould to the shape of your mouth.

you’re unable to focus on the taste of him, not really, not when his hands are grabbing at you greedily, your breath faltering when his fingers are urgently tearing at your clothes. the next few minutes are a blur, and his kisses are a flurry of tongues, gasps stolen between breaths when the blunt edges of his teeth bite into the plush of your bottom lip. there’s a pause when your shirt is all but ripped over the top of your head, his mouth like fire when his lips press to yours again, and it’s quickly followed by another pause as he helps you to shimmy you out of the remainder of your clothing. desperation has him kicking the fabric of his sweatpants from his leg, his fingers deftly ridding you of your bra, your knickers quickly joining the pile of discarded clothing soon after. 

his kisses are frantic, sloppy, and his fingers are blindly exploring each inch of skin that he can get his hands on. it doesn’t take long for him to discover the ticklish spot beneath your ribs, or the quiver of your thighs when his fingers grip at your waist, hoisting you atop him. a surprised oof escapes you, mostly formed around the fact that your head is spinning. 

things are moving quickly—too quickly—and when you manage to tear your mouth from his long enough to voice it so, he’s stilling, spine rigid as he peeks at you through a long strand of hair. 

‘wanna stop?’ the deep gravel of his tone suggests that he hopes for anything but. 

‘no,’ you confirm his hopes, the curve of your smirk smothered by the press of his lips. 

he’s mouthing at the pulse that beats a steady tune at your throat, his fingers, gentle as they pinch, stroke and tickle their way towards the centre of your legs. you shudder, anticipation trembling down the length of your spine, and when his thumb presses over your clit, your breath catches, eyes widening as you peer down at him. his touch is like fire, your skin scorched, thrilled, and he swallows down the lust-driven mewl that is muffled when he kisses you yet again. it’s almost painful, how slowly he works you open, your opening stretching around the press of his fingers, but he welcomes the feel of your lips at his throat, your teeth at his collarbone next, and your fingers twisting into the length of his hair. above him, your hips rock to-and-fro, and his fingers are tugging free with a wet squelch that has you grimacing, and him, grinning. your pelvis rolls, the plush of your cunt gliding up the rigidity of his cock, his balls heavy between his thighs, and the moan you exhale across the curve of his cheek is mirrored back to you, his lids blinking rapidly in order to watch the way that you sigh for him. 

‘love you,’ he breathes, pupils blown wide as he stares at you as if seeing you for the very first time. you’re unable to describe the warmth that is burning its way up the column of your throat, and yet, your fingers tug at his hair, again, coaxing him in for another kiss. 

‘i love you,’ he groans the syllables of your name, the width of him stretching the searing walls of your cunt wider than his fingers ever could. 

‘shit, yes—justlikethat—l-love—fuck, i love—hngh!’ repeatedly, his cock claims home inside the wet of your cunny, which eagerly welcomes him in, over and over, the schlick, schlick, schlick of his sac—long stained with the evidence of your arousal—smacked tight against the curve of your rear with each thrust as he pistons his girth past the stretch of your fluttering hole. 

‘g-gonna—ah, ah!’ and then, his slit is painting thick strands of opalescent jism that have your inner walls glimmering a pretty shade of pearl. your clit is still humming with the aftermath of your own peak, pulse deafening as it thunders an uneven beat past your tragus and down the canal of your eardrums. exhaustion has your thighs trembling around the width of his waist, spine curved as you collapse just enough to rest your cheek to the sharp jut of his shoulder, gasping loud enough to encourage the gentle hum of laughter from out of his lungs. the glide of his cock thump, thump, thumps dangerously close to the tight opening of your cervix, the seam of his sac glistening with the drooling mess that somehow oozes free from the vacuumed grip of your puffy orifice. eventually, he stills, spent, and the back of his head clunks against the wooden surface of the bedside table. 

he wheezes a laugh that bubbles from somewhere deep in his chest, and the force has his shoulder vibrating, your cheek jiggling along, until, soon, his laughter titters into something that sounds less pleasant. when the tip of his nose traces the shape of the shell of your ear, it’s cold, wet, and there’s a choked sob that gargles from the back of his throat, and your fingers clutch at his ribs, desperate to feel the warmth of him just a tad longer. ‘i love you,’ he murmurs, voice thick, hoarse, strained with the weight of a fear that you understand his ego won’t allow him to acknowledge aloud. 

still, you nose at the space beneath the cut of his jaw, and there, is where his scent is the strongest, the familiarity of nothing but him, him, him now intermingled with the salted musk that clings to the surface of his skin. and there, is where the shape of your smile eases the uneasy ache that roughly thwack, thwack, thwacks his jugular against the bridge of your nose until it begins to settle into a pace that comes with the soft exhale that flutters across the back of your head. and there, is where you breathe that no, this isn’t where you say that you don’t feel the same, because, actually, you love him too. 

he’s laughing again, vocal chords twisting around the sound of relief, and when his mouth seeks yours again, his hand comes to cup the shape of your cheek, fingers brushing at the wispy baby hairs that wind around the tip of his finger. the taste of him dominates the inside of your cheeks and the flat of your tongue, and when your fingers curl over the circumference of his wrist, the corners of your eyes crinkle with the stretch of your smile. and just as aki’s lips part—awed—you tug his hand from your skin, your fingers slotting between the crooks of his own. the corners of your mouth morph into the shape of a smirk, the dampened surface of your forehead nudging at his, and you ask:

‘is that your wank hand?’

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

[sylveon-official]

Huskerdust mpreg wip 3

Part 2 here!

Lucifer chews on the finger of his glove as he mumbles, looking back and forth between Angel perched on the bed and the ultrasound pictures in his hand. Charlie sits beside him in an unwavering show of support, but the nervous shake of her hand clasped in his isn’t really helping.

“Ohhh. Mmm, okay, I see. Oh boy… again?” 

“Again?” Angel and Charlie cry out, shooting worried looks at one another.

“What the fuck do you mean again? This happen often? Isn’t not being able to get knocked up supposed to be, like, divine punishment around here?!”

Of course, Angel had always considered that logic a bit backwards, especially with his profession. He had no idea how demon biology really worked, but he’d seen enough visibly pregnant Hellborns of myriad genders in his time in Hell to be secretly grateful he’d never had to worry about it. Well, until now.

“Well, yes…” Lucifer scratches the side of his cheek, gaze nervously flitting from side to side. “But, you see, from time to time we have experienced… let’s call them… little miracles, here in the Pride Circle!”

Angel scoffs, about to reply with scathing comment about the contradiction when Charlie places a steady hand on his shoulder and gently cuts in, “When is the last time this happened, Dad?”

Lucifer blows out a breath, and tuts his tongue as he counts on his fingers. “Oh, maybe 1000 years ago? Give or take. Doesn’t happen so often, could probably count the amount of times it has on two hands, but —?”

Angel groans. Lucifer or not, this guy has a way of beating around the bush that Angel sure doesn’t appreciate. 

“Come on, cut to the chase shortstack - Why?” Angel asks, exasperated. 

Charlie reprimands him lightly with a gasp of his name while Lucifer zeroes in on him with a narrow glare.

“I’m going to chalk that one up to hormones, and let that one slide.” 

When Angel simply shoots him a dull look, Lucifer quickly gathers up his broken ego and carries on, this time in a more serious tone, “Listen, I wish I had an answer for you kid, but… I’ve never really been able to figure it out myself.”

Angel quickly deflates, sudden heat building up behind his eyes again. Great. Not only is he the first pregnant Sinner Demon in a Millenia, but he doesn’t even get an explanation?

Apparently sensing his downturn in mood, Charlie squeezes Angel’s hand and pries further, “Dad, if this has happened more than once, there has to be something you know. Even a just a theory?”

Lucifer hesitates, fiddling with his cane. “Well… there is one I’ve considered, but… don’t put too much stock into it,” he explains defensively, and Angel looks back up at him, tentatively intrigued.

“So, you know how conception happens… up there, right?” Lucifer cups his hand around his mouth and whispers conspiratorially.

Angel furrows his brows. “No, how the fuck should I-”

“Oh, um!” Charlie cuts in, her own brow furrowed in thought. “Something about ‘built-in’ birth control, right? You and your partner will only conceive if it’s something you both long for. So romantic!” She swoons, pressing her cheek against Angel’s shoulder. She quickly rights herself to add to her father’s assessment, “So if that’s how it works with Redeemed Souls, then maybe… maybe it doesn’t matter whether you’re in Heaven or Hell, since now we know that’s a total crapshoot… maybe it has to do with the goodness inside of the soul itself!”

Angel’s eyes narrow as he parses the words in his head, refusing to acknowledge the latter half of Charlie’s rambling. 

“So lemme get this straight… you’re tellin’ me, this is literally some ‘when two people love each other very much’ kinda bull shit?! Who the fuck would I—” 

Angel’s voice gets stuck in his throat as a very clear image of of the potential culprit poofs into his mind's eye. 

Luckily, Lucifer and Charlie take his short-circuiting as general shock. Charlie coos and pulls him close while Lucifer backtracks, “Like I said, it’s just a theory - I’ve got no proof to back it up. For all I know, this is the Big Whatever Upstairs’ way of fuckin’ with us—”

Angel stands up, ignoring the way Lucifer flinches as he towers over him and Charlie face-plants onto the bed without his support.

“I gotta go,” Angel says, balling his hands up into fists, nails digging into his palms uncomfortably. 

He swipes the photos from off of his desk, throws open the door and briskly walks down the hallway, Charlie’s worried shouts falling on deaf ears.

He takes the stairs to the lobby two by two, picking up his pace so he doesn’t lose his nerve by the time he reaches his destination. 

When he stalks up to the bar, heart pounding and out of breath, Husk simply glances up from the glass he’s polishing and plasters on a teasing, lopsided grin, just like he's done every time Angel has stormed up to his bar at any and all hours of the day and night. 

Husk cocks his head and lifts a brow, the deep timbre vibrating across the walls, “Wanna talk about it, Legs?”

Angel’s heart thumps and his cheeks flood with heat.

“Fuck.”

[sadhours]

God I neeeed this written. It's been in my head after I re-watched season 2 🥹🙏🏼 Angsty and ends maybe smutty? Idk

Imagine:

Billy is a bully because of his dad. The abused becomes the abuser, right?

He hates how he lashes out but he can't handle everyone else's perfect little lives.

He meets you and everything changes. You're not stuck up. You get it, you get him.

One night the beautiful family facade fails. You witness it, you see his dad throw a punch in Billy's direction.

You don't think, you just lash out. Teach HIM a lesson. If Neil gives it, he can take it, right?

When you aren't fed love with silver spoons, you learn to lick it off knives.

I have been sitting on this too long, I apologize. I hope this is kinda what you were looking for!

warnings: Neil, obviously, violence, loss of virginity, p in v, unprotected (billys the pull out king)

He’s rough around the edges, but he’s dastardly handsome. You see him getting in peoples faces in hallways, chest puffed up and a look in his eyes like he can't believe he has to share air with such scum. He talks back in class, rolls his eyes when they send him to the principals office and you witness the cycle repeat day after day. When you notice a busted lip and bruised eye, you chalk it up to another fight at first.

You’re quiet, keeping to yourself everyday. At lunch, you shove headphones over your ears and turn the Walkman up so loud, you can’t hear your own thoughts. Walking through the hall, your tape skips and you pull it up to inspect if it split. Not watching where you’re going, you walk right into Billy Hargrove’s chest and stumble back onto your ass, the hard linoleum stinging as it makes contact. At first he looks furious, boring down at you with fire in his eyes and you stutter out an apology, rambling on about how your tape skipped and you weren’t looking ahead of you. Surprisingly, he softens, almost immediately and reaches out to grab your hand.

You take it graciously, allowing his strength to lift you up and he grabs your Walkman, popping it open and inspecting the cassette. As he pulls it out, the tape unravels and you curse.

“Hold on,” he soothes, “Not a lost cause yet.”

He walks over to a club table, ignoring the glares he gets from the Chess club. You follow curiously, watching as he swipes a pencil from the sign up sheets and ravels the tape back into the cassette with it. He hands it back with a smile.

“See? Easy fix.”

He makes you feel all dreamy with his attention focused on you. You might actually float away if you don’t rush off immediately. “Thanks!” you yell back, hurrying off and sliding the headphones over your ears again.

Slowly, Billy keeps popping up wherever you go. He even shows up at the record store you work at, weekly. You’re not even sure how it exactly happens, no words are spoken about it but you’re pretty sure you’re Billy Hargrove’s girlfriend. He’s taking you out on dates that end in heavy petting and eager kisses in the backseat of his Camaro.

He’s so incredibly sweet to you but not to anyone else he crosses paths with. You’ve even witnessed heated arguments with his friends. You don’t understand why until one night you’re hanging out in his bedroom and Neil comes barreling into his room and screaming about how he wasn’t supposed to park in the driveway.

It funnels into an argument about everything. Billy doesn’t do anything right, apparently. You’re sitting there, stunned all the while fuming at this asshole. His complaints of his son are laughable at best, none of them really a problem.

Then, it happens and you jump up off the bed. A hard sucker punch to Billy’s cheek, a thundering sound clapping through the room.

Before you realize what’s happening, you’re throwing punches left and right at Neil. As your lifted off the ground, Billy’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist, you see the absolutely dumbfounded look on his fathers face.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he says behind clenched teeth, his eyes dark and terrifying.

Billy grabs onto your wrist, pulling you out of the house and to his car. He’s peeling out of there, the house getting tinier and tinier in the rearview mirror and you look down at your bloodied knuckles. You don’t know how it happened, you saw red in the moment. You’re silent. You feel as if you should apologize but you don’t regret what you’ve done, even if your punches didn’t hurt him like his hurt Billy.

“I…” you open your mouth and close it.

“I know.”

Billy drives out to a field, at least an hour from town. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, staring out the windshield. Then he’s grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers.

“Thank you,” he mumbles and you know it’s difficult for him to say those words.

And everything makes sense, now. Why he’s so broken, why he’s such a tough guy at school. But what doesn’t make sense is why he’s so nice to you. Maybe because you’re the only person who reacted to Neil that way. He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your bloody knuckles.

“I’m ready,” you tell him, not sure why now is the time you want to lose your virginity.

Billy laughs and you fear it’s out of cruelty. Your panic subsides when you see the sparkles in his eyes. He leans his head back against the seat and peers over to you, “You try to beat my dad up and now you want to have sex for the first time. What has gotten into you?”

“That makes it sound weird,” you point out, “I guess I just realized I love you.”

“Took ya long enough,” he snorts and you glare up at him. “C’mere,” he scoots his seat back and pulls you into his lap.

You straddle him, though it’s a tight space. He kisses you tenderly, fingertips barely holding your jaw, “I love you too.”

Your stomach does a flip, deepening the kiss once he mumbled the words against your lips. Billy reaches his hands up into your top, pushing your bra up so he can get a handful of your breast. He licks into your mouth as he squeezes you in his palm, making you squirm in his lap. You can feel as he smiles into the kiss before he pulls back.

“I can’t take your virginity in my car,” he admits and you whine, looking down at him with disappointment etching your features. He’s got you all worked up just to shut it down so quickly and he looks amused as he stares back up at you.

“Yeah, you can,” you retort, matter-of-factly.

He laughs, moving your hair behind your shoulders, “I want it to be special. It’ll be a hell of a struggle in this small space.”

“It is special,” you argue, “I want it.”

Billy bites his lip and looks at you under his thick lashes, “Would it be too seedy to take you to a motel?”

You shake your head, smiling at him hopefully, “I’d do it anywhere with you.”

“Get your ass over,” he smirks, “Let’s go.”

You scramble over the center console, squealing when Billy plants a hefty smack to your ass as you do so. You swear he’s never driven faster.

The motel room is seedy but you don’t blame Billy, he pulled into the first one he’d seen and you were more eager than ever. You stand awkwardly beside him as he purchases the room, trying not to look the clerk in the eyes but you can feel the older woman looking you up and down. Billy doesn’t seem to notice or care, grabbing your hand and leading you to the room. Once he unlocks the door and gets you inside, he’s pushing you against it and presses sloppy kisses all along your neck and collarbone. You feel electric, your body tingles all over but especially between your legs. Billy’s hands are firm on your hips where he’s pinning you against the door and his lips and teeth brand you with bruises descending from your jaw to your collarbone.

You guys have messed around a lot, almost any chance you got you would touch each other eagerly but it never got very far. Billy knew he was the first guy you’d done anything with so he never pressured you to do anything more than hand stuff. You’d always been sure you wanted him to be your first, though. It was just a matter of when, neither of you imagined it would be after you’d punched his dad. Perhaps Billy feared this would be his only chance, since there was no way in hell Neil would let you around again. He usually didn’t go against Neil’s word too drastically.

“Bed?” you pant out, pushing on Billy’s chest slightly. You felt like you were going to melt into a puddle on the floor, light headed from the way he mouthed at your sensitive skin.

“Yeah,” Billy nods and lifts you up, hands on your ass. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you let out a little squeal. He squeezes your bum before walking you towards the bed and laying you down before hovering above you.

“You’re sure?” he asks, grabbing a hold of your hand and his breath smells uniquely him, you’ve got no other way to describe it. It’s pleasant, almost sweet but unlike anything else. You want to taste it so your hand grabs onto the back of his neck to pull his plump lips to your own, slipping your tongue in between them. Billy moans into it, hands snaking up into your blouse and pushing your bra up like before so he can squeeze your tits. His hands are warm and a bit rough, contrasted to the soft, supple skin they’re flush with. His thumbs and forefingers pinch your nipples hard, pulling on them while he licks sloppily into your mouth. It sends electricity straight to your clit causing your hips to roll up at him uncontrollably. You’ve never felt so starved for something in your whole life, so instinctually needy for him to ravish you.

“Billy,” you plead, squirming under his touch, “Need you so bad.”

“I’m right here,” he mouths against your jaw still kneading at your breasts.

You lower your hands to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up and over his head, tossing it aside before grabbing his torso every way you can. He laughs softly, pulling back so he can rip your top and bra off but his hands quickly return to your tits.

“I really, really need you,” you repeat, scratching at his tanned skin.

He stares down at you in awe, never in his life has he seen a woman so desperate under him. They usually played it cool, if they’d felt this horny for him they would usually try to hide it. You can’t though, it’s so evident on your face how turned on you are. Your wide-eyed, pupils dilated and your cheeks are flushed pink. It’s captivating. He grabs a hold of your cheeks, squeezing them together and slaps your tit with his other hand. You cry out, arching your back to feel some kind of relief.

“You want my cock so bad,” he pouts down at you, “poor baby.”

“Need it,” you whimper, voice distorted by the way he’s gripping your face.

“Aw,” he teases, “are you begging for me to fuck you?”

You nod frantically, his words only making you wetter, “Please!”

He lets go of your face and starts unbuckling his belt, pulling it through the loops before he kicks his boots off. He inches to the edge of the bed, unlacing your shoes as quick as he can. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him, the firm grip he has on your ankle makes you whimper. Once he’s got your shoes off, he roughly pulls your jeans off. He positions himself closer and presses his palm hard against your pussy, the barrier of your soaking panties frustrating you.

“Fuck me, Billy,” you mewl, “Pretty please.”

His eyes go dark, mouth opening slightly as he exhales hard. You switched something in him, he’s pushing his jeans and briefs off quickly, freeing his hard cock. The sight of it makes you drool, the tip angry red and leaking which lets you know he’s in the same boat you are. He tugs your underwear down your legs, spreading your legs and scooting himself up between them.

“You wanna feel my cock, baby?” he pants, fingers circling around his length.

You nod eagerly, “Please, Billy.”

He strokes himself, biting his lower lip as he brings his free hand down to feel through your glistening folds. Billy’s touched you there hundreds of times, seen your pussy plenty but never with the promise of being able to stick his dick inside. He presses his tip your entrance and then slides it up through your folds, rubbing your clit with it.

“Oh God,” you moan out, toes curling as you anticipate what’s next.

“Fuck,” he grunts out, “I’m not gonna last long. You’re too fucking perfect.”

The compliments sends you spinning.

“Just want to feel you,” you whisper, “have been since I first saw you.”

Billy leans down to kiss you, hard. He brings his tip back down to your hole, pushes inside slowly. You feel no pain like you’ve been told. It’s electric, actually, makes you feel all kinds of warm and wonderful. Until he pushes in deeper, then you tense, hands grabbing into his waist. Billy kisses your jaw tenderly, tells you to breathe with him. His voice soothes you. It’s the most decadent sound you’ve ever heard.

“Keep going,” you choke out through clenched teeth, “I can handle it.”

You know the more he moves, the easier it will be. You’ve been told. But Billy moves slowly, holds you like he’s scared to break you. You’d happily let him. He sinks in deeper and it’s like he’s pushed passed a barrier, the pain subsiding completely and instead you’re flooded with a rush of pleasure.

“Oh, god,” you pant out, face etched in shock.

“Too much?” he asks, panicked as he looks down at you.

You shake your head from side to side, “Feels so… nice. And warm.”

He chuckles at that bending lower to pepper your face in kisses and he starts to pick up a steady rhythm with his hips. Your legs shake slightly as you try to spread them wider, wrapping your arms around his middle. It’s tender in a way you’ve never seen Billy, he’s delicate and reserved. Then he exhales sharply, his cheeks turning red.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, already,” he mumbles, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

“Is that bad?” you wonder aloud, wiggling your hips slightly and he’s pulling out of you and spilling onto your stomach with a hiss.

He collapses onto the bed next to you and covers his face with his hands. You look down at the mess he’s made on you, feeling as it starts to cool. You’re tempted to touch it, smooth it over your skin but you fear that would be weird. After heaving a sigh, he sits up and looks down at you.

“Not bad, you were so tight it just felt too good. Give me a break and we can try again,” he whispers, standing from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. He returns with a towel and cleans you up, pulling you into his lap when he’s done. You’re already eager at the promise of doing it again so soon.

[blueinkjpeg]

Listen to me ramble about traveler ships bc they’re silly!!

Albedo

Both Albedo and the Traveler have a scientific curiosity about the world and how it works, as well as humanity, which they are both not a part of. While Traveler finds enjoyment out of living among them, Albedo prefers studying them from a distance.

This also transcends into curiosity about each other, since they’re both different kinds of immortal ageless entities, they intrigue each other. (Albedo talks about wanting to “study” the Traveler.) They’re brought together by mutual curiosity— Traveler by Sucrose’s description of a gentlyman-ly scholar with much knowledge of Teyvat, and Albedo by tales of the interstellar Traveler with unique abilities and knowledge of other worlds.

They feel a sort of kinship for each other, as they’re both not really of Teyvat. Because of this, Albedo only trusts the Traveler to stop him if he should lose control one day and destroy Mondstat. He also talks about trusting the Traveler around his experiments, and having faith in their “exceptional talents.” He also trusts Travaler with Festering Desire, a sword with the remains of Durin (who was created by the same person as Albedo). Albedo specifically sought out the Traveler help him research the power within the sword, correctly guessing that Traveler (with their purifying ability) would be the only being able to wield it, which Sucrose remarks as odd and a great display of trust.

A final display of trust and perhaps the greatest of all; during the Shadows Amidst Snowstorms Event, Albedo decides to tell Traveler about his creation and relation to Durin, which he has not told to anyone else up to this point. Traveler’s response is to reassure Albedo that they’re not going anywhere, that they’re going to stay with Albedo on dragonspine and make sure to help him find his imposter.

About us, Assistant: Would you oblige me by serving as my assistant? After observing so many experiments, you surely know a good deal about alchemy by now. Relax, we will work together. I don't think you will have any problems. I have faith in my ability to instruct you, and even more faith in your exceptional talents.

Ascension 2: Albedo is the step in which change begins. Clearing away the excess so we can take on all the knowledge that is available. Would you like to investigate this world with me?

Ascension 3: Rubedo in alchemy refers to the refining of feeling. I feel the refining of my own emotions is also thanks to you.

Is there anything else you're interested in?

Albedo: Hmm, anything else...?

Albedo: Probably you.

Albedo: At first, it was because you carry the aura of the stars.

Albedo: But now... it seems that there is more to it.

Albedo: Why is this? Give me some time and I can conduct experiments to find out.

Is there anything you'd like to do?

Albedo: Heh, where should I begin...?

Albedo: In your company, I never lack inspiration.

For drawing?

For experiments?

Albedo: It's good for both drawing and experiments.

Albedo: And not just for these, but for many other things.

Albedo: Speaking of which... I used to think interaction with others was a waste of time.

Albedo: But after meeting you, I'd rather spend my time on you than other matters.

Albedo: This is a unique anomaly. I think I likely know the reason why.

Albedo: So can you also... give me more of your time?

Albedo (during The Chalk Prince and the Dragon Event): I mean that the time that I've spent traveling with you in the mountains was a valuable journey for me. In the future... If the need arises... Can I solicit your help again?

Traveler: Sure, even if you just want some company, find me anytime.

Albedo: Well… Glad I can count on you.

Albedo: Those born of earth are bound by its imperfections, but those born of chalk and free of impurities... You and I are alike, both composed of a substance that has yet to be fully defined... If one day, I lose control... Destroy Mondstadt... Destroy everything... Can I rely on you to stop me?

Albedo (Golden Archipelago quest): Communicating with others can be a taxing affair, but if I were to choose someone to talk to, I would pick you. You're intelligent, and I like to talk to intelligent people.

Albedo (The Chalk Prince and the Dragon Event): But if you want to know why I trust you... It might be because… The unusual ones like us share a certain degree of understanding.

Traveler: “Unusual ones?”

Albedo: Lonely individuals... Those who aren't like ordinary people, Just like... you and me

Traveler: (Is he implying something?)

+(whatever the hell this look is):

(And being weirdly flirty)

Xiao

Xiao has been cursed with bad karma, while the Traveler has purifying abilities. Xiao talks about how being around them makes him calmer somehow. Maybe because of these purifying abilities, more likely because the Traveler is so universally warm and friendly. Two immortal beings, Xiao has spent his long life tied to his nation while the Traveler has been almost everywhere.

While Xiao has a rough exterior, he is actually curious about humanity and has a great love for them, something Traveler understands and shares. He’s just weary of his karmic debt and history of violence bringing the Liyuan people bad luck, or preventing him from fitting in should he mingle among them. The Traveler likewise does not fit in, but is still beloved. And so, Xiao has expressed that he would be willing to attempt going to Liyue Harbor to learn about the people if the Traveler accompanied him. It’s likely Xiao admires Traveler for their pursuit of understanding Teyvat and its people— something Xiao is naturally bad at— and they make him feel comfortable to pursue it as well.

Xiao has sworn to come whenever the Traveler calls his name. He has done so seconds after being called every time the has Traveler called for him, except when Xiao was so injured he couldn’t hear it. He seems notably protective of Traveler, more so than other characters (remember in 2023 lanturn rite when Traveler “drowned” and Xiao showed up IMMEDIATELY to “save” them, and the second he found out they were just faking it, told Traveler not to do that again because “there’s people who worry about you’?) During the Perilous Trail story quest, Xiao refuses to meet up with the main cast of characters, even after being injured, in fear of bringing danger to them, and only agrees to join them when he hears Traveler might be in danger. (Similarly, during the Windborne poetry event, no character could convince Xiao to join in until Venti mentioned the Traveler will be there. As well as 2023 lantern rite where Xiao mentions he came to Hu Tao’s dinner because he assumed Traveler would be there too.) Voice lines imply he is guarded because he assumes his karma will poison Traveler, and he doesn’t want to hurt them. Despite this guarded roughness, Traveler rightly characterized him as a deeply caring individual, seeing Xiao to the core of who he is, and treats him as such.

Also, Traveler has shown to be dedicated to becoming someone Xiao can trust and relax around. In some of Xiao’s voice lines, it’s implied that Traveler has been trying to come up with ways to help soothe Xiao’s pain, such as; suggesting Xiao try poetry to get out “words unsaid”, asking Baizhu about pain medication, intervening to help Xiao out when he’s overwhelmed. Traveler sees Xiao trying to manage his grief and interact with the people of Liyue more, and presents non-optional support for him. (Learning more to honor Pervases and Bosacius [it should be noted that Xiao willingly gave information about his deceased friends to the Traveler because he wanted to share the memory with them, as well as bringing them up in casual conversation (2023 lantern rite) with Traveler], bringing Lantern Rite to Xiao when he’s too hesitant to attend, making tofu for him since other foods bother him, etc.)

They have a tradition of releasing Xiao Lanterns during Lanturn Rite. [ex1] [ex2] Xiao has given the Traveler crystalflies for their hair for his own birthday, brought Traveler flowers on a few occasions, and has talked about how since knowing the Traveler, Xiao has been blessed with sweet peaceful dreams of the two of them going on strolls, wondering if he deserves something so nice.

In a poetry event, the Traveler has created poetry to show their admiration towards Xiao for his endless watch over Liyue. Maybe Traveler admires it because they’ve never had such devotion over something for so long, and Xiao admires Traveler for the opposite reason, and for being brave. They’ve been notes by many other characters to be close. [x]

About Shenhe: It seems Shenhe places a great deal of trust in you. Well, how could she not. There are few people in the world as kind and good-natured as you.

More about Xiao V: It's too late. The connection between us is too strong. Even if you wanted to, it's too late to sever it. Hm? You've never thought to sever it? *sigh* This eternal dance of demon subjugation... My fight goes on. But I would like to know more about you.

Ascension: Countless souls have fallen prey to these hands. I too have been swallowed by the darkness — and yet you dare to drive me on. You may think of me as... your companion. You seek to find me salvation? ...You... really are a difficult being to comprehend.

Xiao: ...I don't know if it's related to you, but recently, the pain from my karmic debt has been less excruciating.

Xiao: It's much easier to bear than before.

Xiao: If you have free time, we can go to Liyue Harbor together...

Xiao: If not... never mind.

Of course we can.

Xiao: Uh... alright.

Finally decided to integrate into city life?

Xiao: Ahem...

Xiao: I have no intention of getting close to the lives of mortals.

Xiao: But I know that you often enter and leave the city, walking amidst the crowd.

Xiao: The stories of these times, or their joys... If I don't experience such things myself, it'll be hard to understand your thoughts.

So... you're doing this for me?

Xiao: Yes, to understand you.

Xiao: I had a feeling that it would be difficult, but after having such thoughts, I can't simply sit back and do nothing.

Xiao: I will control myself while I am in the city.

Xiao: I'll try to speak... as little as possible.

I'll be with you.

You can say whatever you want. I'll bail you out.

Xiao: Hmm...

Xiao: Let me know when you're ready to go.

Xiao (Perilous Trails story quest): I've said so much today. But I don't need to hold back as much when I talk to you.

Shenhe about Xiao: My first impression of him was that he's not one to smile. After meeting him again more recently, however, he's still as reserved as ever, but... he seems a lot more relaxed now. Maybe he... met someone special.

Yenfei (Perilous Trail story quest): By the way, um... You and Xiao seem pretty close, huh?

Zhongli (3.4 lantern rite): Just as Xiao may seem unapproachable to most, but [Traveler] has proved otherwise.

Xiao (during 2023’s Lantern Rite): Whenever I think of the ordinary conversations I've had with you, it feels... strangely novel.

Traveler: Strange in a good way?

Xiao: Yes.

Ayaka

Ayaka’s character story 5: “Ayaka is still waiting for a friend to emerge who can walk alongside her on equal footing and stand by her side. That person cannot see her as a member of the Yashiro Commission, or as the Shirasagi Himegimi, nor will their conduct towards her be bound by decorum or status. And if possible, they might also be well-versed in a great many fields of study, and have witnessed all manner of interesting things... and perhaps they might even be able to tell her a story in a pinch. Only such a person might become Ayaka's bosom friend.”

The Traveler is Ayaka’s ideal companion, the exact kind of person she has been waiting for, possibly the only person who truly has the ability to understand her outside of Inazuman society’s perception of her. She finds Traveler interesting and exciting, a stark difference from her everyday life.

When they first met, the Traveler was disillusioned in their travels after briefly reuniting with their sibling, who dismissed them. Ayaka makes the effort to show them and remind them why they began their travels in the first place; the world and humanity is complex and interesting and beautiful, and it’s a worthwhile endeavor to understand and protect them. Ayaka regularly reminds the Traveler of this by being complex and interesting and beautiful herself. Traveler then goes to great lengths to protect Ayaka’s people, because they understand why they’re important to her.

Ayaka is trapped in Inazuma, while the Traveler has been all over the world. Traveler sends Ayaka things while on their travels, and Ayaka makes sure to keep and treasure them. Things that Ayaka has seen a million times are new and wonderful to the Traveler, showing these things in a new light to Ayaka. It makes Ayaka feel like a “regular girl,” something she wishes she could be more often. Traveler indulges Ayaka’s curiosity about the world outside Inazuma, and Ayaka is fascinated by how the Traveler sees the world. During the Warriors Spirit Event, Ayaka and Traveler both talk about how easy and natural it is to fight alongside one another. She says that Traveler always listens to her worries, but she feels like she’s losing in their relationship by not listening enough to Traveler’s issues. A trusted retainer, sensing how close Traveler and Ayaka are, asks Traveler to look out for her. The Traveler is shown to feel most comfortable with Ayaka and her family while in Inazuma. They both understand what it’s like to feel distant from a sibling.

Good Morning: Oh, good morning, Traveler. ...Whenever I see you in the morning, somehow, it makes me feel like... today is going to be a good day.

Aspiration: Today, as in the past, I aspire to be somebody whom everyone can trust. But what motivates me is no longer the responsibilities I shoulder, or the expectations of other people. Rather, it is the fact that you are this kind of person, too.

More about Kamisato Ayaka V: […] unless I am mistaken, I trust that you will not take issue with this slight departure from convention on my part… That is to say... I'm a little tired, may I rest my head on your shoulder? Just for a moment.

Desires: […] But even so, shouldn't I still follow my dreams? Shouldn't I... share my true feelings with you?

Ascension: Our time together has been so pleasant that I am fearful of losing what I have gained. I'm sorry, I must compose myself.

Kamisato Ayaka: At least, that's a romantic way of approaching this topic [poetry].

Traveler: I feel the same way.

Kamisato Ayaka: More importantly... I hope that, between the two of us, we need not be concerned with our identities...

Kamisato Ayaka: I'll just think of you as... my closest confidant.

Kamisato Ayaka: Being able to enjoy tea with my closest confidant — it feels like I'm in a dream...

(Closest confidant...)

Kamisato Ayaka: ...

Kamisato Ayaka: Can I... Hold your hand?

Ayaka (during her story quest): I will always be here for you as your... Ahem! As your friend. I will always support you.

Ayaka (during her story quest): I need to explain myself. I got a little nervous back there and... -I just made up any old excuse. But don't think of this as me taking you sight-seeing, please! I brought you here because… because I genuinely wanted to spend time with you.

Ayaka (during the Warrior’s Spirit Event): [Explaining that she was stressed out about a situation, but had decided against sending a letter to Traveler to ask their opinion on it.]

Traveler: We're friends, you can have my advice anytime. / I'd be happy to help however I can.

Ayaka: You've helped me many times before, and you've always lent me your ear when I speak about my troubles. But if I'm always turning to you for help, it almost feels like you're somehow besting me. Hehe, is it strange for a friend to think that way?

Traveler: Not at all. / I understand how you feel.

Ayaka: Thank you. I was really delighted to learn that you also entered the competition…

Traveler (during the Warrior’s Spirit Event, after Ayaka shows them her Fontaine outfit): This look really suits you. / It's a beautiful outfit and it suits you perfectly.

Ayaka: (during the Warrior’s Spirit Event, about a duel they just won together): Although the audience members might not have noticed, there were many moments where I would've been in trouble if it weren't for you by my side drawing away the opponent's attacks. Without you, it would've been impossible for me to win on my own. It's just as I expected, my swordsmanship is still far from your level.

Traveler: Ayaka, you helped me many times as well. / You're being too modest, Ayaka.

Ayaka: Really? Hearing you say that makes me want to spar with you all of a sudden. To tell you the truth, l've been hoping for an opportunity to spar with you ever since we first met. That wish was half fulfilled today at the exhibition match.

Traveler: Next time, we'll find a chance to go a few rounds.

Ayaka: Sure. But... until then, make sure you take good care of your sword. If I ever manage to steal it one day, your life will also be in my hands. Hehe... I've always wanted to say something like that. Did it sound strange?

Traveler: It sounded very much like Miss Orlith. / It was cute.

Ayaka: […] It's precisely because we're friends that we should spar often and learn from each other.

(Also, hoyoverse did NOT need to frame their conversation like this. Between the setting sun???? Crazy.)

Wanderer

The Traveler and the Wanderer are both parallels and ideological foils. They have both been betrayed and abandoned by family and loved ones, doomed to travel and wander the world in order to understand it better because of that.

But the Wanderer has learned humanity’s cruelty during these travels, mostly in the Fatui. He believes humans to be evil and self-serving, and so he acts that way too. And as an immortal, finds mortal limited lifespans cruel and unfair, clutching onto his grief and anger in a means to cope with what he cannot control.

Meanwhile, the Traveler has learned the beauty of humanity during their travels. They believe in the inherent goodness in everyone, and so they act that way. Curious and sensitive, like Wanderer before his three betrayals, even though Traveler has arguably been through just as much hardship as Wanderer (which may be a reason Wanderer held contempt for Traveler in the past). The Traveler is also an immortal being and knows of the reality of limited mortal lives. But instead of seeing it as cruel, Traveler sees the beauty in mortals living free and learning and growing in their limited lifetimes.

Their ideologies are in direct conflict. The Traveler’s ideology has led them to getting hurt often, while the Wanderer’s ideology has led him to being isolated. They have a lot to learn from one another. They have parallel scenes of saving one another in Wanderer’s story quest, maybe to allude to this.

AND, with the Wanderer having erased himself from everyone’s memory except the Traveler, the Traveler now is the only person to know the real Wanderer. They know all the evil Wanderer has done, (led to the death of Teppi which Traveler was famously angry about, tried to kill Nahida, etc) and is still his friend. Wanderer is perplexed by this, often expressing it in voicelines. But this means Traveler knows him the most, they own part of his identity as well, as Wander has allowed them to give him a new name. A new name that he has not let anyone use except the Traveler, preferring to go by “Hat Guy” in the Akademia.

While still being weary of him, the Traveler can’t help but seek Wanderer’s presence because they enjoy learning about his vastly differing perspectives on life. The Wanderer respects them because of their vast strength and knowledge. He has also presented Traveler with flowers once.

About us, Rivals: So, you're still stewing over our run-ins from before? Huh. Well, what are you going to do about it? Take your time. I'm in no hurry.

(“Oooo you wanna kiss me so bad ooooo I’m in your head”)

About us, Collaborators: I'll never be one of the good guys. I'm just here to pay my dues after what you've done for me. But what about you? Shouldn't you come up with some excuse for our meetings? If one of your friends mistakes you for collaborating with the enemy, you're on your own.

(He makes the same excuses to be around Nahida, though his lore explains he does truly admire her. Just saying.)

About Damselette: Let me ask: what should you do if you were to encounter a "damsel" who is oblivious and innocent at any given time, and unconcerned and unfeeling in any given situation? If it were me, I could at least challenge her to a fight. But if it were you... with your conscience, I would stay away from her.

(He’s calling Traveler kind-hearted, calling out their optimistic ideology, and warding them away from danger with his more grounded/pessimistic ideology.)

Birthday: Give me your hand. Heh, there's no need to be nervous. I'm just taking you to a vantage point. How is it? The scenery here should be quite breathtaking. There's no need to thank me — I see little point in it.

(Wanderer): Thank you for trying to look out for me. Go get some rest.

Wanderer (his story quest): All you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind.

Traveler (main Sumeru Archon quest, while they’re still enemies): Even if it means losing yourself, would you still want to become a god?

Wanderer: Hmph, those words almost make you sound like a friend who actually cares.

Jeht

Through the Golden Slumber world quest, it’s made very clear that the NPC Jeht is significantly [romantically] closer to the female Traveler Lumine. In the quest, they travel together for a time and become close. In a moment of crisis involving the Fatui, Jeht is ordered to kill Lumine, but refuses out of affection for her. She takes the punishment instead, and is offered to a Fatui scientist for experiments by her tribe. Jeht was told it was Lumine that betrayed her, and Lumine was told Jeht had betrayed the tribe, but neither of them chose to believe something bad about the other.

At the end of it all, Jeht chooses to fight by Lumine’s side over her other friends. Inspired by Lumine, Jeht decides to go on her own journey. Their goodbye is tearful. There is also White Day art of her giving Traveler a gift.

Lyney

Lyney has only known the Traveler for a short time, but they already have a checkered history. The Traveler trusts Lyney and his sister immediately after meeting them, hangs out with him for a few days, and defends him in murder trial. Only for it to be revealed Lyney was part of the Fatui, who the Traveler has an even worse history with, having killed their friends and put Traveler and their companions in mortal peril many times.

Lyney offers an apology and some of the truth, but the Traveler is still cold with him and brushes him off, believing themselves to be betrayed (and likely influenced by mixed feelings of seeing such close twins). Despite openly admitting to having difficulty with opening up, Lyney makes the effort to be open and truthful with the Traveler during his story quest, rebuilding trust between them. Lyney puts in extra effort to be honest, because he truly wants the Traveler to like him. He gives the Traveler a rainbow rose by the end of it, which even his sister marks as odd, because it represents passion and romantic love in Fontaine. His sister asks the Traveler to “protect that flower for her,” likely alluding to Lyney.

The Traveler trusts him after this enough to include him in the main quest again. Lyney remarks multiple times about how he feels close with the Traveler, how he enjoys talking with them, how the Traveler’s eyes shine like topaz and Lyney could never lie to such beauty. There’s also official White Day art of Lyney giving the Traveler chocolates.

In Arlecchino's story quest, he’s implied to have talked in detail about the Traveler to his other siblings, and is eager for the Traveler to like them. He is hesitant to involve the Traveler in family business, wanting to keep them safe and saying he will protect the Traveler with his life. The Traveler similarly shows the desire to protect Lyney, stepping in between him and his Father during conflict.

They resonate with one another concerning their twin siblings. Lyney having almost lost Lynette, and the Traveler being separated from their sibling. For the Traveler, this grew from jealousy to admiration, as they see Lyney caring so greatly for his family, a trait Traveler shares. Traveler understands and respects Lynsey’s loyalty to his (fatui) family, and would not be surprised if and when that loyalty drives them apart.

While they are close now after much effort rebuilding trust, they are both silently aware their friendship has an expiration date. Traveler’s goals contradict the Fatui. And with Lyney declaring his loyalty to the Knave as her successor, and this mysterious Fatui scheme the House of the Hearth have been roped into, they both know it’s just a matter of time before circumstance sees them on opposing sides of the battlefield. Though it remains unaddressed for now as they try to enjoy the time they have left together.

Hello: […] Well... Hmm, your eyes are like topaz, precious, pure, and lovely. I like them!

When it snows: Achoo! Phew... I've heard some say that when you sneeze, it means that someone's thinking about you. Is it Lynette, I wonder? Or... is it you?

Good Morning: C'mon, just five more minutes... Huh? Oh! It's you! I thought it was the radiance of the sunlight on my skin that I felt — turns out it was your radiance all along!

About Lyney, sweet talker: I should probably emphasize again that I'm rarely so open with anyone — I guess it's because you're not just anyone.

More about Lyney I: It seems we're both keenly interested in each other. Well, know that the honor is mine! Haha, relax. I couldn't ever tell lies to your mesmerizing eyes — not even if I tried!

More about Lyney V: […] Sometimes I think people would feel sorry for the real me. Do you? *sigh* Or do you find my little games absurd?

(Awwe he cares about what Traveler thinks.)

Ascension: Doing all this for me... Are you trying to steal this magician's heart, by any chance? Well, in that case, congratulations, my dear apprentice — or should I say, "companion." For you have succeeded!

Lyney: It's almost impossible for me to lie to your face... Maybe it's because I can't bear to see that hurt expression of yours.

Lyney: Say, why don’t you look at my hat? Do you see anything different about it?

Huh... Don't think there's any difference.

Lyney: Ah, but that just means you need to look at it more carefully! Just come a bit closer.

Well, alright then.

Lyney: […] No, the whole thing was misdirection.

Lyney: I just played a little trick, and stole something of yours. And after that, I also slipped a card into your bag.

Lyney: Now, can you guess what I stole from you?

My heart?

Lyney: A most unexpected answer! I have to say, even my heart has begun to race too.

Lyney: What I actually stole, however, was your "attention." Even though it's not nearly as valuable as your heart, it's still very important to us magicians nonetheless!

Lyney: […] Anyway, I just want to find a warm, free, and peaceful home for all of my animal assistants.

Lyney: A place where they'll always enjoy care and being lovingly looked after, with no need to worry about food or shelter...

Lyney: To be perfectly honest with you, this [Traveler’s teapot home] is by far the best choice for them that I know of... but I wouldn't want you to feel pressured to take them in, or to persuade you using honeyed words.

Lyney: Good morning, (Traveler)!

Lyney: It would be great if I could see you every morning.

Lyney (during Arleccino’s story quest when Traveler says they’re staying to help): I... just... Thank you. I was really hoping to keep you out of it, but even if I could think of some other reason to turn you away, I'm not sure I could convince you. I know things could turn dangerous, so I promise you this from now on, I'll protect you like my life depends on it.

Lyney (main Fontaine archon quest): Traveler, Paimon, I hope you enjoy the rest of the show. There may be a lot of people watching tonight, but you alone are my true witnesses.

Lyney (Receiver of Friends From Afar Event): Hehe, or maybe your cooking is simply too delicious to resist. The next time our paths cross in Fontaine, you'll have to fire up your cooking skills for my other siblings as well. How does that sound, oh great master chef?

Traveler: Whatever you say, oh great magician. / Whenever you're free, just set date!

Lyney: Oh yeah? Well then, I'll have to clear my schedule.

Lyney (his story quest I think?): I'll believe anything as long as it comes from you. So, please prove your prowess to me once again.

[shroomiewrites]

Private Lessons || Professor!Price x F!Reader

Professor!Price x F!Reader || 7.4k words || NSFW || 18+ || Minors DNI

Warnings: AFAB reader, explicit sexual themes, alcohol consumption, degradation, creampie, spanking, dry humping, praise, power play if you squint, blasphemous behavior.

⁠✧.*⁠Next chapter || Assignment Tutoring*⁠.⁠✧

Synopsis: You couldn't be happier when your failure of a professor was being temporarily replaced with a substitute teacher, however, your happiness is quickly replaced with panic as you meet your new professor.

The clock ticked slowly. Agonizingly slowly. It usually did when you were seated in the uncomfortable joint seat from the auditorium, behind your laptop as the bright white blank page stared back mockingly at you. Not an unusual situation by any means, that, however, didn't make it any better as you repressed a yawn for the third time in the past two minutes.

Your professor paced around in front of the full board, hands gesturing wildly, rambling about some nonsensical story that had nothing to do with the subject he's supposed to be teaching and you're supposed to be learning. Clearly you were both failing at your tasks, but, ironically enough, only you'd fail at the end of the semester when the lack of attention and study notes came back to bite you in the ass.

The bell finally rang and you felt your body physically slack in relief. Your hands mindlessly putting your laptop away in your bag in a robotic manner from pure habit. Your mind was only thinking about what you were going to eat that evening and how long of a nap could you fit into your afternoon before you had to spend the rest of the day actually studying whatever was supposed to be taught by your incompetent teacher.

"Thank you everyone for coming, and don't forget that I'll be away for an international congress for the next month, so a substitute teacher will be taking my place. As always if you need me my email is–"

Is God real? Or did you just think so hard about having someone that actually knows how to do their job that it you manifested it into existence? Whatever it is, whatever divine entity that allowed for those words to come out of your professor's mouth were sure to be working in your favor and you promised you'd owe them one would you ever figure them out.

Your coffee tasted that much better that afternoon, a taste of accomplishment and contempt that doubly warmed your throat as the hot liquid ran it down. 

"Celebrate the small victories," you thought.

If God was real, he was a dick. The absolute fucking worst. Him or whatever other deity played a cheap trick on you when all you wanted was to get a damn good grade in possibly the most boring class in your curriculum. 

Given, it wasn't that boring anymore, thanks to the mountain of a man who had his back turned to you as he unceremoniously wrote on the board, clapping his hands softly to rid it of the excess chalk powder before he turned to the class once again.

Professor Price, the words read.

You would've relished a bit more in the absence of your previous failure of a teacher, but you could nearly physically hear the universe laughing at you as you tried to pry your eyes away from the man's giant arms that escaped his rolled up dress shirt, without any success whatsoever. 

You were fucked. If you were failing before thanks to your teacher's lack of any teaching skills, now you are failing because the way this man's thighs were furiously trying to break free from the confinement of his pants was making you want to get up and scream about how incarcerating innocent subjects was a miscarriage of justice. Maybe you could throw in some fancy precedent that'd show him you were actually a good student of the law and not just some whore lusting after your own fantasies of being bent over his table and feeling his muscular thighs hit your legs from behind as–

"Morning, class." His thick British accent nearly made you jump your seat, eyes focused on his figure but your mind far away.

His voice. His fucking voice. Hoarse and throaty. Like he just stretched relaxedly, sprawled in bed after a long night and was greeting you with a sly smile on his face. Or maybe you were just a little too deep in your headspace. Either way. It scratched your brain just right, sending tingles down your spine, you watched as he put his hands inside his front pockets, wide stance giving you a perfect look at his broad chest. It probably felt nice to lay on, to place your palms on to steady yourself as you– God. 

"I'm Professor Price and I'll be covering this class for the next few weeks as Professor Wilson is away," The way he scanned the room was focused but unpretentious, not in judgment, more like curiosity. 

When he glanced over you, stopping to take you in for a split second that you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't making a living out of studying his every feature, you felt butterflies in your stomach. A familiar warmth traveling down to in between your legs as you scolded yourself for acting like a damn college girl, soon reminding yourself that you were, in fact, a college girl. Not that it was terribly on brand for you to lust after your professors, however it was painfully often that you found yourself falling for men that would be charmingly referred to as DILFs. And Professor Price? Was a fucking huge one. 

"I hope we can make great use of this short amount of time we'll be together, and I'm here for any assistance you may need. I know this subject can be quite a challenge," he chuckles, deep and rusty, and you make a mental note to check if you need a panty change when the class ends. 

The rest of the class goes by so fast you actually find yourself disappointed when the bell rings. Professor Price was as good of a teacher as he was eye candy. Never once had you seen a class so thoroughly focused on a lecture about corporate law, and you suspected a few other students shared your same fertile imagination when it came to your new educator. For the first time in weeks you were actually able to look proudly back at your laptop screen, paragraphs of text and citations adorning the screen. Sure, you had to fight your instinct of drooling over the way Professor Price's back muscles shifted as he wrote on the board, unaware of all the vile, lascivious thoughts that plagued your mind every time he cleared his throat to start a new sentence.

You scoffed putting your stuff away while looking at two girls in class go up to Price's desk, twirling their hair as they asked him a question about the lecture. But you weren't dumb. You saw it in their little mischievous eyes that corporate law was the last thing in their raunchy heads as one of them touched his arm, oh, so accidentally. Please. At least you hid it. 

Right?

If you were ever an atheist, you couldn't remember. You were pretty sure God was real and present, but above all else, that he had a personal vendetta against you. Maybe that was narcissistic to think, but you sure got that impression as you recognized a certain pair of blue eyes and combed beard coming through the bar's double door. Because, of course, your male's-underwear-catalog-model of a professor just walked into the place you've been drinking and trying to forget about him for the past hour. And, of course, he's wearing a tight white shirt that outlined his spec muscles so well it might be illegal, not to mention the glasses?! The fucking glasses. Thank goodness he didn't wear them in class or you might've just cum right there and then. He looked so entirely different with them but recognisable still, it was infuriating. Who does he think he is? Clark Kent?

You had plenty of plans for the night. Convincing yourself you deserved a little treat after spending the evening looking through and editing your class notes. His class notes. It was a simple course of action you had in mind, truly. Go down to your usual bar, drink yourself away, maybe kiss a guy or two, go back home and regret it all as you woke up on a Saturday with a massive headache and books to read. But now, your body was getting side tracked. Insisting on traveling the entirety of his body, not feeling a drop of shame as you stopped at his crotch, taking notice of the big bulge there. 

Fuck. He was big. You could sense it, you could imagine it and you desperately wish you could feel it.

Shaking your head, you tried to erase the mental image of being on your knees in front of him and focus on the average looking blond guy who had been eating you with his eyes ever since you stepped foot into the place. You were betting with yourself on how long it'd take him to actually make a move on you. Needless to say, he had the rush of a monk. But at least it'd keep you busy as you tried with every fiber of your being to forget your professor.

"Hey," A familiar croaky voice came from behind you,"You were in my class earlier right?"

Now this just has to be some sort of sick joke. How long until cameras popped out from behind the bar and footage of you staring at his dick was all over the internet? Could you just double it and give it to the next person?

"Uh– professor!" You whipped your head, putting on the best sober smile you could, "Yeah, yeah. I was." Maybe that's all he wanted to know, just being a nice, courteous man before he went on his merry way.

"Ha! Knew I recognized ya." He sat down on the stool next to you. 

Well now this is just tragic, frankly. Both the way he was oblivious to how much of a mess you were by as much as his presence and how the blond guy was apparently very taken aback by the wardrobe sized man talking to you and started flirting with another girl shortly. Pig. 

"How was it? I was a bit unsure on how to approach it, I remember I found the topic so bloody boring in my time, thought I could spice it up a bit." And spice it up he did. Maybe a little too much. 

"It was great!" you nodded, hoping he wouldn't ask you to quote your favorite part because right now, the alcohol in your system and his musky cologne wiped your brain out completely, leaving only a deep burning desire to be absolutely fucked senseless, "Professor Wilson is a great teacher," A lie, "but I could comprehend it a lot better with the way you explained it." Not necessarily a lie. 

"That's great to hear, then." His smile was genuine and bright, of someone who had no idea that if he ordered you to get down on your knees right there and then you would with zero hesitation.

An innocent smile adorned your lips as you took another sip of your third drink of the night, barely feeling the burn that went down your throat anymore. You were embarrassed, honestly. Being this hot and bothered by a poor teacher who was only putting effort into doing his job right left you feeling like the biggest slut to set foot in town. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, not missing the way Price's eyes glanced subtly to your legs as your mini dress rode up a few inches. 

Just an involuntary reaction, you were sure, or your devious mind was playing tricks in you.

"Recommend me anything?" Your attention turned back to him as he pointed at your drink.

You thought for a second. He didn't look like he enjoyed the fruity sweet drinks you were downing like a mad man, no. He looked like he was more of a 'something strong and a little bitter on the tongue' man. 

"You look like you might be into scotch." You note and he raised an eyebrow, a low hum echoing from his lips.

"Read me like a book, I see." His smirk was as amused as it was surprised.

"Try the godfather." The bossy underline of your tone was definitely not on purpose… Grinning to yourself as he bit his lip before nodding and turning to the barista that arrived to take his order.

"Well, ya heard the lady. One godfather for this old man." The barista nodded and you contemplated whether to jump onto the opportunity or not.

Fuck it.

"You don't look old at all," you giggled. Disgusting truly, as low as the girls in his class, but could you honestly be blamed? 

The low chuckle that came out of him made it all worth it. Putting one arm on the counter as he shook his head. You noticed how his biceps flexed as he moved.

"You know what they say, 'age isn't a number, it's an attitude'."

Cheesy. Would absolutely turn you off if he wasn't the one saying it. In his voice it became a rather sexy mantra. You wanted to show him an attitude alright.

"Means more experience no?" You brought your straw to your lips, never breaking eye contact. The innuendos of the question were to be judged by God and God alone. You're lucky being horny isn't a crime.

"Indeed it does… in a lot of areas." His gaze was fixed on yours and you nearly choked on your drink.

He didn't– he wasn't… flirting with you? Was he? 

"Law?" You asked cheekily, trying hard not to think about the wet patch in your panties.

His laugh was easy and genuine. A treat to your ears, not being able to hold a smile yourself.

"Sure," he concluded, drink being posed in front of him by the bartender.

He thanked the man, bringing the cup up in between you two.

"For learning new things, aye?" You smiled, bumping your cup softly against his, a small clink sound coming from between the glasses before you two brought it to your lips.

And, man, did you learn new things. 

You learned his name was John, which you immediately tested in your head about how you'd sound moaning it (pretty good), he worked at a firm in the UK for nearly 10 years before deciding to take up on teaching full time. He'd been a professor for 6 years now, was unmarried with no kids, "My hectic life couldn't hold up a proper relationship," he said. 

You also learned he was an avid football fan and loved hiking. Both which explained his top notch physique. Not that you were staring, of course… 

"But tell me more about you," he finished his second drink, "You have a boyfriend?" 

The question caught you by surprise, erupting something very unholy inside of you. Was this a casual get-to-know-your-student question? Did such a thing even exist? As far as your experience went, professors weren't really going around drinking with their students.

"Uh– no, no. You know, with the whole last year of college thing and trying to find good opportunities it's just… hard to find the time," you answered truthfully.

Not that you were a lonely, sad woman by any means, having your fair share of lovers here and there. Ultimately they all ended the same way, you slowly fell out of touch as your schedules got more and more conflicting. Not that it bothered you that much, you were more than fine with the freedom of being single and the pleasure of an occasional fling.

"I get that," You thought he actually did, "but I'm more than sure a pretty lady like you won't have trouble finding a nice young guy," he stated, eyes looking for your expression.

His choice of words stuck with you. Nice young guy. You stopped momentarily, it could either mean two things — he was giving you a hint that he didn't want anything with you, or… he was trying to see if you were open to the idea. You pondered for a moment, your next words needed to be expertly chosen if you wanted to cover both terrains until you figured out which was right. 

You took one last sip of your drink, head slightly dizzy as you thought hard, "I don't know if those young nice guys are really for me, Professor." 

The way he sucked in a breath at hearing his title was nearly too much for you, sending you spiraling into your carnal thoughts about moaning it as he spanked you on his lap. 

"Have they not been taking care of you right?" There was a dark undertone to his words, a palpable tension as you both tiptoed around the blurred lines, the alcohol serving as a catalyst to send your mind into a frenzy with each look he gave you.

You bit your lip, noticing how his eyes darted down to them, Adams' apple bobbing in a contained gulp.

"Not in the way I want them to." He visibly tensed at your words, veins getting more visible as he grasped the empty glass tighter, knuckles turning slightly white. For a second you were scared he'd bust the cup, fully aware that even if he did, it'd be the hottest thing in the world.

Another second of silence went by and you started to panic. Had you gone too far? Did you step on a landmine in the little minesweeper game you were playing? You were about to backtrack, come up with a bullshit lie when he interrupted you.

"I think it's getting late. You should head home as well. I'll pay for your taxi." Your heart dropped to your stomach. It felt like a slap to your face.

You stood there, mouth agape as you tried to comprehend what went so wrong in so little time. Above all else, how would you still attend his class after this? Maybe you could just retake it next semester? Wait until Professor Wilson came back and tell him you had come up with a mysterious case of the flu and couldn't go to class for the past month. 

Your internal rambling was interrupted by John taking his wallet out and laying two bills on the counter, paying for both your drinks. You were about to tell him to stop and that you could pay for your own drinks, feeling embarrassed enough. Before you could, he dragged his arm off the counter, hitting your purse that rested above it to the ground. You watched as he immediately bent down to grab it, grunting an apology.

His fingers curled around the purse beside your leg and he agonizingly slowly brushed his other hand on your leg all the way up to your thigh, where he rested it for a second in a subtle and discreet move. Anyone looking from afar would just think he was giving you back your clutch. He placed the small bag in your lap, being as close to your face as he ever was and you could clearly see the lustful gleam behind his glasses. 

"Black Ford, parked on the end of the street. I'll take 5 minutes checking something on my work bag…" He whispered, sending a heat down your body, "If you decide for whatever reason to go there help me…" The brittled tone of his voice along with the mixed scent of his cologne and the scotch was sending you to paradise, "I'll take good care of you, darling." 

You definitely needed a panty change. Hell you might've felt your slick run down your legs slightly, feeling cold where his touch was after he took his hands off, nodding a courteous goodbye to the barista before going out the doors and making a right.

Heart stammering against your chest, you took a second to try and think straight, failing miserably. Whatever was left of your logical thinking begged for you to reconsider the idea of getting into your professor's car. But it was to no avail as you slowly got up from your seat, grabbing your purse and walking out, turning right.

The short walk to the end of the street where you thought you saw a black Ford was filled with your anxious thoughts. God, were you really about to sleep with your teacher? Well, he'd only be there for another few weeks anyway, it's not like you were officially his student anyway. Or that's what you'd tell yourself at night to be able to sleep after letting out all of your fantasies with the hot mountain of muscles that currently stared at your small figure approaching the car. You glanced around once before opening the passenger door and getting inside, a small sigh leaving your lips as you settled into the comfortable seats.

Price's eyes were glued onto your figure, unabashedly skimming his eyes over your exposed legs and your chest and neck.

"Drive us somewhere a bit more… private." You don't know where you found strength or courage to order him around, but he clearly didn't mind, smiling and spitting out a 'yes, ma'am', starting to drive out of the busy street. 

You took the opportunity of having him focused on the traffic to take him in completely, how his arms flexed as he grasped the steering wheel, how his thighs barely had any free space to move on the small driver's seat and the giant boner he sported. It made your mouth water and you bit your lip, repressing a premature moan from spilling out your lips.

"Like what you see?" He was clearly amused, a side smirk playing on his face as his eyes were still glued to the road in front of him.

"Maybe…" You decided to tease a little, two could play that game.

He chuckled, a small breath coming out of his nose as he wet his lips before talking, "I think you do, since you've been fucking me with those eyes ever since class this morning."

You considered opening the door and simply throwing yourself out of the moving car. How much more pathetic does the universe need you to look? 

"Oh. I– well–" He was full on laughing now, a husky, delicious laugh that had you rubbing your thighs together for any friction you could get.

"Can't say I didn't find myself getting distracted by you a couple times, love…" he confessed, taking a quick side glance at you and you felt utterly naked under his gaze, completely exposed.

"You fuck your students often?" Was it necessary? No. Did it please you to see the way he looked at you pointedly, almost angry? Absolutely.

"Who said I'm gonna fuck you?" 

The bastard. How dare him. You turned your head in his direction, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"What are we doing? Private lessons?" He chuckled once more, one hand moving from the steering wheel to your leg, giving it a squeeze. Your breath hitched, biting your lip.

"I'll definitely teach you a lesson." His smile was playful but his tone… he was serious. Deadly.

The words went straight to your core, if it was physically possible for you to get wetter you would've. You cursed yourself for not being able to keep up a cool act near him, your body constantly betraying what your mind wanted you to do.

"And you're the first one. I'm not a pervert." You chuckled at his words, but felt a weird sense of pride. Like he was your dirty little secret.

"We'll see about that." He looked at you curiously, hands squeezing your thigh one more time, a bit harder this time, "You're not killing me right? Cause technically, you're taking me to a secondary location and the odds of me surviving that are slim to none." 

Price threw his head back, a genuine string of laughter coming out his mouth. Surprisingly enough that one warmed your heart more than your pussy and you were utterly disgusted with yourself. Fantasies of riding him until you passed down were fine, but you drew the line at imagining how his chest would bob up and down when he laughed as you laid over it on a chilly Sunday evening. 

"I wonder if you'll still be that cheeky with my cock in your mouth, love," he said nonchalantly and you stood dazed as he winked at you.

Where had this man been all this time? 

"I think this is good." The car stopped and you looked around.

You recognized the neighborhood, not too far off where you lived. It was quiet and peaceful, a lot different than most places in your city during a Friday night. There was a small hill close by that stood in front of a river that crossed the city, the soft sound of rippling water filling your ears. 

"I see you chose somewhere near the river so it'll be easier to dispose of my body," you joked, John undid his seatbelt and turned slightly to you, or as much as he could with his giant legs.

"Or I could take you up there and hold you while we watch the stars," he said softly, but you still picked up on the gentle sarcasm of his tone.

"Now that's a psychopathic thought." You turned to him, licking your bottom lip as you mapped his features, the slope of his nose, the way his mustache grazed his upper lip, how his blue eyes looked down at you ferociously behind the thin frame of his glasses, like he was about to jump at you anytime. You found it thrilling.

"If you want to stop this…" he began, voice barely audible, "Tell me now. Because after we start, I know I won't be able to hold myself anymore." 

You inhaled dizzily, unsure of how could every single thing he did turn you on so damn much. Your hands moved to rest on his chest, you enjoyed the feeling of his muscles underneath your hand, traveling up until they rested on the collar of his shirt. His breathing was ragged and you watched him close his eyes for a moment.

"Eager much?" you whispered back, hoping your bratty behavior would stir up something in him. He scoffed, his own hand trailing up your inner thigh, taking your dress with him.

"They'd need a fuckin' crane to tear me off ya." It sounded a bit comical, but with the way he looked at you, like you were prey, and his fingers groped the flesh of your thigh, you actually believed him.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." You pulled him harshly to you, crashing your lips. 

His kiss was exactly like you imagined, like you hoped. The taste of scotch filled your mouth as your tongues lapped against each other in a messy kiss. His guttural moans sent you off orbit, worrying that if his dick wasn't inside you in the next 20 minutes you might just drop dead. 

Your hand slid up from his collarbones until they rested at his nape, you pulled his short hair harshly, parting his mouth away from yours by mere inches, relishing in the way his half lidded eyes looked down at you, watching attentively as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, softly biting into the skin. John let out something close to a whimper and you were sure that that was the single hottest sound in the entire world and you'd kill to hear it again. 

"Fuck, c'mere." In a swift movement, he pushed his seat back a bit, grabbing you like you weighed nothing and placing you straddling him, his hands immediately going from your waist to your hips, before giving your ass a firm slap.

A sound moan went out your lips, closing your eyes and nearly falling forward on his chest. You could feel the outline of his dick under you, providing you with not nearly enough friction, pulsing with the whimper you made as he squeezed your ass harshly. 

"Sound so fuckin' good, baby." His head was now in the crook of your neck, kissing, licking and biting his way to your breasts. 

You wanted to answer with a little quip, keep up your bratty attitude. But the sheer stimulus from his hands and mouth on your body, being slowly rocked on his hard on, was just too much already and you could only moan and whimper broken cries of his name.

"Already daft for me, sweetheart?" He let out a throaty small laugh, one hand traveling from your ass, up your waist, gently squeezing your boob before setting down on your cheek, "Thought you'd last longer with your little attitude, hm?" He whispered darkly into your ear, biting your lobe softly and rocking your hips against him again. 

"J-John…" you whimpered, the fabric of his jeans against your wet panties, sure to leave a stain, torturing your pussy.

His fingers grazed your cheek and your jaw, before his thumb brushed over your bottom lip, dragging it down slightly.  

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?" he asked, his hand coming down on your ass in another loud slap, you steadied yourself with both hands on his chest, gripping his shirt tightly as his thumb invaded your mouth. You instinctively sucked on it, nodding your head to his question, a low hum echoed from his throat as he shook his head, "Use your words like a big girl, hm?" He grazed your tongue one last time before taking his finger out, your spit dripping from his finger to your chin, he gently smeared it around, eyes fascinated as he watched your drunk eyes and parted lips, body squirming on his lap.

"Y-yes." You gathered the strength you had to mutter, little huffs coming out of your mouth as you tried to grind yourself harder against him.

"Yes what?" He raised your chin to look at him, eyes fiery and dark.

You trembled over from another slap he gave your ass, rocking you forward in his covered dick, the friction sending jolts up your body and you threw your head back, hissing. John grabbed a handful of the hair on the back of your head, turning your face back to him in a surprisingly gentle movement.

"Y-yes, sir." You could feel his dick twitching under you at the honorific, the side of his mouth going up slightly as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"That's my girl." 

By God, you nearly came at that. You barely had time to bathe in the way his raspy voice echoed in your ear with the praise, feeling the straps of your dress be pushed down your arms, the fabric at your chest now bunched over your hips. John sucked in a breath, admiring your naked body lustfully, biting down on his bottom lip.

"Bloody hell, love, look at you…" He used one hand to mold the flesh of your right boob, kneading it with furrowed brows, completely focused on the way you panted in pleasure. He rolled your nipple on his fingers and you jumped, making him chuckle.

"A little jumpy, are we?" You groaned in complaint but he just laughed at you, mouth flying down to capture your other breast. He sucked and twirled his tongue around your hardened nipple, humming in satisfaction, while humping up, grinding into your pussy.

"S-sir, please–" you begged and he let go of you with a pop, you looked down seeing his shiny lips from sucking on your boob, trying your best to take in so you could relive the moment when you were alone.

"What do you want, baby girl?" He was teasing you, taking the most pleasure in breaking you apart. 

"You in– fuck– inside me," you spoke in between breaths, his grinding getting harder and harder as your panties got so soaked you could only feel the friction of his jeans against you.

"Well looks who's eager now," if you had any strength you would've slapped his chest, but your arms were already shaking, your inebriated state along with your desperate need for him down there making your head spin.

Maybe it was mercy, maybe he wanted it just as much as you but was that much better at hiding it, whatever it was you thanked the heavens when he pushed you back slightly to open the zipper of his jeans, a wet stain in the spot you were seated before. Price looked rather amused at it, almost proud that if he left you there for another 5 minutes you would've probably come on riding his clothed dick alone. 

You salivated at the sight of his boxers, a huge bulge outlined by the thin, stretchy fabric of his underwear. Your hands immediately flew down to it to break his cock free, feeling the absolute girth and length of him. Your belly ached with the sheer prospect of having his massive dick in you, certain that you would be sore for a few days at least.

"Shite–" he threw his head back in a hoarse moan, biting hard on his lip as you smeared the pre cum on his tip, imagining all the positions you wanted to do with him.

He looked back at you, eyes narrowed in pleasure as he witnessed you spit on his cock and move your hands up and down faster, the wet, unholy sounds paired with your cock drunk appearance driving him to the edge. He gathered the strength to grab both your wrists and pull you to him, your lips connecting once again in an even messier kiss.

His beard tickled your skin, but it wasn't as prickly as you thought it'd be. His hands moved to the small of your back, while the other nested into your hair again. Your tongues met again, groans erupting from him while you whined to feel more of him. You moved your hips forward until you were grinding your clothed clit against his hard member. The pleasure making you moan loudly into the kiss as he pulled your hair.

"You want my cock inside you, baby? Want me to pound into you like a whore?" He bit hickeys on the column of your neck, licking the sore spots after, drowning in your soft moans and begs of his name that just rolled of your tongue in a messy string of pleas.

"P–please, sir. Fuck me like a slut, pl–please," You whined and he gave you one final bite, right between your shoulder and neck, before ripping your panties completely from you. 

If you hadn't been so damn wet already, that alone would've been enough to get you dripping. The way he just effortlessly tore the lacy fabric from your body with a growl. His gaze was sinful as he pulled your hair back, chin pointing to his face.

"Open up," he ordered and you immediately obeyed, "Good girl," he uttered  satisfied as he stuffed your mouth with your panties, a guttural groan of pleasure escaping from him as he enjoyed the beautiful sight of you as a panting, drooling and moaning mess, begging for him to fuck you. He could cum just by looking at you like that, completely disheveled thanks to him.

He used one of his hands to raise your hips, the other one guiding his cock to your entrance, sucking in a breath as you sank down on his shaft.

"Oh– fuckin' hell, so bloody tight," he rasped and you could only moan loudly, the sounds muffled by the crumpled fabric in your mouth. 

He barely gave you time to adjust, grabbing your hips and guiding you up and down, your hands bracing yourself on his chest, hair falling all over your face. The sploshing sounds your wet cunt made whenever his cock entered you were loud and filthy, permanently ingrained in Price's memory, along with the way you shook and whined over him. 

You could hear him panting and hissing, strong legs giving you leverage as you rode him, feeling the tensing muscles of his chest against your hands, his own altering between running up your sides and your tits, giving them a hard squeeze, nipples hard against his palm.

"Bloody fuckin' hell, baby," he all but growled, "Such a good cunt for me. C'mere, wanna her you scream my name." He latched his hands onto the panties in your mouth, discarding then somewhere. 

The immediate lewd sounds that erupted from your mouth could surely be heard by anyone passing by the vicinity, but you found that you didn't quite care, thoroughly enjoying the way his dick twitched inside you as broken pleas of his name dripped from your mouth like honey, driving him to insanity.

"So f–fucking good," you cried, hips faltering as he hit a deep spot inside you that stung so good you could practically see stars.

"Those f–fuckin' bastards can't give it to ya like I can, hm?" Another sharp slap came down to your red, sore bum, sending you flying straight into his chest. He used the new angle to lift his thighs rapidly, pounding into you with vigor as you scratched his chest and shoulders, screaming his name, "That's right, need– need someone like me to fuck you j–just right…" His own voice was breaking, low grunts of pleasure coming out with his ragged breath as his cock disappeared inside you again and again.

"I–I'm close, s–sir… please… need t–to cum…" You buried your head on his neck, barely having the strength to hold yourself up. Not that you needed to, his big hands holding your hips locked in place as he hit a spot that had you reevaluating every single fuck you had before.

"Gonna cum on my cock like the dirty little whore you are, darling?" He nipped at your ear, going harder and deeper as you felt your high approaching. You couldn't even think straight enough to nod your head yes, biting his neck as you whimpered and squirmed, "Will you let me cum in you, hm? Fill up this pretty little pussy full of cum so you can walk around dripping? Fuck… you'd look so fuckin' pretty," he moaned the words through gritted teeth, legs shaking ever so slightly as his own orgasm started to build. He grabbed your chin harshly, fingers digging into your cheeks as he forced you to look at him, his eyes narrowed, bottom lip caught between his teeth as low grunts mixed with the sound of his thigh hitting your ass.

"Look at you," a moany laugh left his lips, mouth quivering up in a smug smirk, "So cock drunk for me, what would people think, hm? A pretty, smart lady like you– completely fuckin' ruined. Does it turn you on? Being put in your place and railed by your bloody professor?" That's all you needed to come undone above him, a string of incoherent babbles and broken cries of his name dancing out of your lips as you shook violently on his lap, hands coming down on his thigh to support yourself as the strongest orgasm you ever had washed through you. Head spinning in complete daze and disorientation.

You fell on top of him, body pliable like playdough as he continued to fuck into you, his own moans getting louder and out of breath as his own high came down on him.

"Oh shite– fuck, princess, let me cum in you. P–please…" The sound of this 6 foot man begging and writhing under you was nearly enough to get you ready for another round, if it weren't for your completely exhausted body. He didn't have to ask you twice as you moaned and nodded.

"F–Fill me up, sir, please. Want you to– to stuff me full of your cum." That was the only permission he needed as one his fingers dug into the flesh of your hip, sure to leave a bruise, his other hand moving from your face to your nape, gripping your hair and pulling you back. 

His head got lost in your neck, leaving bites all the way down to your breast, sucking on it hard and pulling your nipple between his teeth as he moaned, the gruff noises sending vibrations down your body as you felt him shake, burying himself inside you as a warm, thick liquid filled you to the brim, spilling down your leg and onto his lap. He desperately tried to catch his breath, resting on the seat with you on top of him, the sounds of your respiration the only thing you could hear along with distant sounds of sirens and cats from the city.

You both stood there for a minute, one of his hands coming down to your back as he brushed his fingers softly in a random pattern, sending small shivers through your body, his other hand still nestled in your hair, but now gently massaging your scalp, the sheer comfort of the movement would be enough to lull you to sleep in other circumstances. You also had your fingers on nis nape, playing with the little tips of his hair absentmindedly, head resting on the curve between his shoulder and his neck as you inhaled his scent, now a mix of sweat, his musky cologne and a bit of alcohol, you could get drunk alone through his smell, wanted to bottle it up and keep it to yourself forever.

"You okay, bunny? I hope I wasn't too rough with ya…" The low volume of his voice, a bit louder than a whisper, the obvious care that laced his words and the cute completely out of nowhere pet name made you melt into him even more. Your heart skipped a beat, a gentle sigh escaping your lips.

"You were perfect." You managed to get out amidst your dazzled state, your other hand squeezing his arm reassuringly. You felt his soft chuckle under you, his throat bobbing slightly with the sound before you felt him turn his head towards yours.

"I'm glad." Was all he said before planting a kiss so chaste, so caring and full of tenderness on your head you nearly passed out, unsure of how the man behind those soft lips and featherlight touch on your skin, as if he was afraid of tainting you, was the same one that fucked you senseless not even minutes ago. 

The sheer loving and innocent nature of his actions were almost enough to make you forget he was still balls deep in you, his liquid running down your sore thighs. You unglued yourself from him, looking down at the hot mess you made, the sight making you get wet all over again.

"That's quite the mess, innit?" You looked back at him, noticing the smirk and pure delight in his voice as he said it. You could feel his damn pride in the air, could see it in his eyes that he'd do it again ten times worse if he could. The thought alone sent you spiraling again.

"I'd offer to clean it up," you started, running your finger on a drop of his cum that ran down your thigh, taking it to your lips and locking eyes with him as you lapped it up, sucking your finger clean before removing it with a pop. The way his eyes darkened all over again, his cock twitched involuntarily inside you, made you smile in victory, "but my body would definitely give out and you'd be obligated to throw it in the river," you quipped and he just stared at you smiling, an odd, bewitched glimpse to his eyes, you felt even more vulnerable than when he was fucking you. 

"I won't let that happen," his hands brushed gingerly from your collarbones to your jaw, feeling your soft skin under his touch, he glanced down your lips, licking his, before going back up to your eyes, "I told ya I'd take care of you, didn't I?" 

You couldn't move away your sight from him, from his fucked out, half lidded look, the way his mustache was slightly wet still and his glasses fogged up near the bridge of his nose. Your mind was screaming for rest, but your body ached for him, for more. You unconsciously rolled your hips, relishing in how he threw his head back, exposing his neck, littered in purple blossoms, a hiss leaving his mouth, feeling his hand squeeze you involuntarily.

It'll be a long night. But perhaps, God doesn't hate you that much after all.

A/N: Whew, this was something. This absolute piece of filth and profanity was inspired by this lovely drawing and this video. I highly suspect that this concept will still make my imagination go wild, so expect perhaps a part 2?

Constructive criticism and feedback are always more than welcome! I hope you enjoyed reading~

Tag list: @thychuvaluswife

[strawhatkia]

sundress season.

INCLUDES ! 1610!miles and hobie brown x black!fem!reader

GENRE ! fluff

SYNOPSIS ! they see you in a sundress for the first time

WARNINGS ! character and reader are not together...yet!,

WORD COUNT ! 0.6k

A/N ! the way this was suppose to be the whole spider crew plus miguel and i got tired not even half way through....this just gon be a lil tester but this is getting deleted and revamped later !

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

MAIN MASTERLIST | SPIDER VERSE MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

— ☾⋆⁺₊🌻🖌✧ SPIDER-MILES !

i cannot fathom to you how flustered this boy gets on a regular day when y'all really not doing anything. the boy already really likes how you look in your regular uniform or just casual street clothes so when rio and jeff invite you over for the carne asada/cookout and you popped in a sundress of all things, he kinda doesn't know how to act.

oh, and his parents find it absolutely hilarious. this is really the time where him being jeff's son and aaron's nephew really shines through. he's awkward about it and can't seem to get through any of his sentences.

he really likes the way it fits you and the color compliments you well but he has such a hard time for like a good 30 minutes. eventually, aaron comes to save him and gives him a tip of going to get some drinks for the both of you and take you somewhere private to talk.

not to mention, his whole family thinks you two are too cute for words and takes every chance to mention how much of a good couple you two make. once you come back over to get something to eat, you are bombarded by multiple family members. miles is definitely nervously laughing to get through the embarrassment of all them making the most outlandish comments and gave up after the 4th tia said how lucky he is to have you.

— ☾⋆⁺₊🎸🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 ✧ HOBIE BROWN !

this is literally the world's boldest man ever, he truly don't give a fuck whose watching. you were actually in the middle of a block party when you were called to debrief about a mission. not to be bothered to put on your suit (especially since peter b. walks around in a pink robe of all things), you step through the portal in your sundress and sandals.

certainly not the first time hq has seen you out of uniform but the sundress has you grabbing compliments left and right from all the spider people present (even miguel, which was surprising). it would be hobie to see you last though. he was originally talking to pav who was rambling on about his recent date with gayatri again when he catches a glimpse of you pass by to go into the meeting room with miguel and jessica.

now in my eyes, hobie immediately tunes out of pav's conversation at once to focus all of his attention on you and makes the split decision to follow you in there. it's not like jessica will care enough to kick him out and he does not care what miguel has to say. quite frankly, the man only sees you at the moment and that doesn't even catch up to him until he's right in front of you.

then in the thickest accent possible, he flirts endlessly throughout the entire meeting. the man has no sense of personal space around his friends and it's only ten times worse with you. hanging off your shoulders, wrapping his long arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder while hugging from behind. you do your best to acknowledge, because ignoring him will not work and only make it worse, but to also get through the meeting.

it's easy to chalk it up as hobie being a physical person but there's only so much to explain the way he feels up on the material of the dress, making comments that make you feel like you're blushing and distract from whatever miguel was saying before he gave up and just told you to come in later. without hobie.

leaving the meeting was easier than staying in it but now you gotta deal with a very cocky spiderman that is doing his absolute best to talk you into coming back to his dimension. (pav is watching from a distance with a bag of popcorn, squealing over how many of his friends are having romance novel moments)

©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

wanna read more ??

check back later !

taglist: @mypimpademia @cosmiles @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams

[f10werfae]

Sugar Bun cuddles

Pairing: Lumberjack!Henry Cavill X Shy!Short!Wife

summary: while on her period Henry has to put up with a little more attitude than normal, whilst also cuddling his precious sweet girl, and making sure she's taken care of, and baby Marly (Sweet!Henry) (Brat!Reader)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated<3

Henry Masterlist, Lumberjack!Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

“Sugar bun whas wrong? No cuddles this mornin’?” Henry whispered spooning his little love, her body cocooned in the pink fluffy blanket, his hands feeling up the silhouette of her body. “M’not happy m’bleedin’ , go ‘way” She whispered shrugging his hands off, nuzzling her head further into her pillow, her body squirming like a caterpillar. “Alright bunbun, you jus’ come out when you’re ready, am missin ya” He whispered kissing the top of her head before launching himself out of bed.

Henry understood that once a month, he had to be a little more delicate with his precious wife, after all the only thing he could offer was to stop her period for 9 months. Although within minutes of him sitting himself down onto the plush couch, a small figure wrapped in a blanket launched herself onto his lap, straddling and cuddling against him like a monkey. “Y-you left me” 

Y/n whimpered looking up from her blanket, her eyes glossy and wet with tears, her body shaking with her hands wrapped around her husband’s torso, she couldn’t help but feel the pain in her stomach start to double. “Oh baby, no, ya know i’d never leave ya; jus’ thought maybe ya wanted the bed all to yourself” He cooed rubbing her cheek gently with the back of his finger, the rest of her body was chalk cold but her face was steaming.

“N-no jus wanted not t-to be touched, not t-to be left!” She whined wiggling on his lap, her brows furrowing, her hand lightly shoving his shoulder before her arms crossed over her chest. “m’sorry sugar pie, I promise not to leave ya in the bed again” He whispered leaning forward to nudge her nose with his playfully, a small smile erupting on her face along with a few sniffles. “m-m’sorry too, I-I’m actin’ like a brat, b-but I jus’ feel so icky” She explained flailing backwards only to be caught by his built arms, her huffs being replaced with laughs as Henry kissed her neck rapidly to a point where it turned ticklish.

“S-stop it- Oh no” Y/n shifted suddenly, a serious look in her doe eyes, her hands quick to cover her crotch. “What? what is it honey? Did ya hurt yaself down there? Lemme see” Henry rambled scared he had hurt his sweet lover, especially during her most vulnerable time of the month, where nearly everything was sensitive. “N-no you stupid! I-I felt a spurt of b-blood” She shouted rushing off his lap, running crazily to the bathroom, shrugging off the blanket on the way to the toilet; leaving Henry shocked and confused for a few seconds.

“Sugar plum are you okay? Do ya need me to call someone?” He said loudly knocking on the bathroom door, listening to his poor girl whine and whimper, and he couldn’t even get in cause she had locked the damn door. He didn’t care if she was bleeding out of her pussy, he didn’t like hearin’ her in pain all alone, his sweet girl. 

“N-no bear, leave me a-alone, s’embarrassing” She whined, Henry smiled a little practically hearing her foot stomping from outside, “Alright m’not leavin’ but i’ll shut up, i’ll wait for ya here bun” He said sitting down against the wall, his legs propped up for his elbows to lean against his knees; his head thinking of all the ways he could help her feel better. Guaranteed was she not on her period her tone and attitude wouldn’t have been tolerated, at all. But Henry wasn’t a total idiot, he understood what was going on inside her body thanks to basic science classes, but he still couldn’t help but feel a little hurt every time she pushed him away.

Maybe nearly ten minutes passed before Henry finally heard the toilet flushing and the faucet going, the door opened swiftly after to reveal a tear stricken Y/n, her hand clutching onto her lower abdomen. “C’mere baby, give me a cuddle” With his arms wide open, he helped her to straddle his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck as her head fit itself in the crook of his neck. “s-sorry for b-being rude again, didn’ mean it, I swear! My tummy is jus bein’ angry n’ sore” She explained trying to nuzzle her head even further into his neck, his hands simply rubbing up and down her back comfortingly.

“S’okay honey, I understand, N’ I don’t care if you’re rude to me right now, jus’ wanna make sure you’re alright” He whispered leaning her forehead against his, his lips moving forward to kiss away the pout on her lips, his heart blossoming open once he heard her sweet little giggles again; his sugar plum blossom. 

“I feel o-okay now” She whispered tracing her pointer finger down his nose bridge, “Tell the truth bun” Henry said deeply, knowing his wife well enough to tell when her tone was off or when she was lying. “O-okay i’m hungry, n’ my stomach is s-still icky” She shrugged hugging around his torso again, his leg lightly bouncing her hoping it would alleviate any body aches.

“N-n i’m sorry ya missed our c-cuddles” She whispered kissing his lips shyly, his lips forming a smirk as his hands made it deeper by pushing on the nape of her neck, squeaks leaving her mouth as their tongues played for a little while. “Well you’re here cuddlin’ with me now aren’t ya? No harm done sugar babe, but here’s our plan: am gonna get some food into this tummy of yours, get ya some tylenol and then maybe cuddle some more if ya wanna”

“Cuddle with Marly, n-n’ sum Witcher?” She asked cutely as Henry stood up with her in his arms, walking over to the kitchen and setting her on one of the many marble countertops. “Yes honey with all your favourite things, ah still don’t get why ya like the Witcher so much” He said knowingly chuckling, cracking open a few eggs along with a few streaks of bacon onto a pan, while letting her tie the pink apron he put on which said “his sugar bun” 

“C-cus Geralt l-looks l-like you” She giggled shyly remembering when on her birthday Henry had surprised her by dressin’ up as her favourite character, her love for the show growing twice fold after her “Geralt” fucked her to the moon and back. “Alright honey don’t say too much or else i’ll get jealous” He smirked feeling her slap his ass with her foot, his hands skilfully transferring the scrambled eggs and bacon onto a small plate.

“O-only l-love you H-hen, m’husband a-after-all” Bashfully she opened her mouth letting Henry feed her a few mouthfuls before she felt her stomach start to grow crazy again, eventually forcing her to stop eating or else she would hurl. “Alright now take this and then got some of your favourite juice here” Henry smiled placing the pill onto her tongue, handing her the glass as he watched carefully to make sure she took the pill; his woman had a habit of faking it because she preferred syrup to pills. If only Henry’s Medicine worked on this.

“Come on love bug, Marly’s waitin’ for ya on the couch” Holding her hand dearly he led her into their spacious living room, the white kitten resting peacefully on top of a couch pillow, looking as peaceful as can be. Y/n squealed seeing the cute little fur ball extend her paws out to her ‘mommy’, Y/n’s hands immediately lifting her up and cuddling her to her chest. “H-Hen c-can we get M-Marly a friend, I saw a b-black cat in the p-pet shop” Y/n asked cautiously, but seeing as Henry seemed to be going extra soft on her today, there was no harm in trying.

“I don’t know bunbun-“ Henry sighed wrapping an arm around his wife, her head leaning onto his chest while Marly was resting on hers, their perfect little family of three. “B-but she gets lonely, jus’ like me, would ya like it if I was lonely alla time?” Y/n whined letting Marly crawl onto the other space on Henry’s lap, nuzzling her head against his stomach before settling down for good. His hands instinctively reaching to stroke the soft fur, which he hated at first but had grown to love.

“Fuckin’ hell yes then, but you’re lookin’ after it” He grumbled, listening to Y/n squeal’ “Mar baby, m’ gonna get you a boyfriend!” She whispered kissing Marly on the head, the little kitten meowing in response, seemingly happy as her tail wrapped around Henry’s wrist. 

Once Henry finally got the Witcher on, he felt Y/n’s smaller hand pull on his to put it on her stomach, using it to rub in small circles, a small happy smile on her face once she realised he was doing it on his own. “Like me massagin’ your belly honey? Does it make ya feel better” He whispered leaning down and kissing her nose, watching it wrinkle and twitch at the sensation. “Mhm makes me feel tons better, b-but it’d be better d-down here” She whispered pulling his hand down to her shorts, another phase of her period, the horny hormones. 

“You little minx” Henry groaned pulling his hand away, kissing her roughly, his eyes landing on the calendar behind her. Shit she was only on day 1.

====

Thanks to @angelhollandsworld and other anon, for this sweet idea!

Library blog of works: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, please use library blog) @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @helenaellie @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25

[meguminne]

Lovestruck Ajax!࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

call it unjust or prejudiced, but you’ve always found those with hydro visions a bit conceited, whether they know it or not. but that’s mostly due to childe’s fault. [drabble but more like a ramble] i just finished the fontaine story (no spoilers in the drabble!) and i just love him

‎ܓ perhaps it was thanks to the cruel hands of fate that you have had the displeasure of meeting such a man. his laughter was obnoxious, his eyes as deep as the sea; his smile is that of a fox’, and his bravado is so tall, you ought that its fall would be more cataclysmic than the fall of the great jade chamber.

༊ but if you chalked it up to fate, then perhaps you would think that celestia fancies itself a citizen of fontaine with its love for drama and theatrics.

༊ truly, there was nothing truly pleasant about the man they call ‘ajax,’ ‘childe,’ ‘tartaglia.’ his names don’t matter, he’s annoying all the way.

༊ at first you thought him quite handsome, save for the soulless blue eyes he has. you’ve bumped into him near the northland bank when you were browsing the books at the wanwen bookhouse, and you’ve chat with him a couple of times.

༊ you met again at the wangsheng parlor where he was particularly acquainted with the funeral director’s stoic secretary or whoever he was.

༊ by the tenth time, you wonder if you’re being stalked by the man with how often his face pops up even when you’re in sumeru, inazuma, monstadt and any of the seven nations!

༊ if you managed to find the land of khaenri’ah, you wouldn’t be surprised to see him there, ‘browsing the many places.’

༊ he would strike up a conversation without fail, always with that grin that makes you wonder if he’s practiced making such a stupid face in the mirror.

✎⟆ “oh, [y/n]! what a coincidence, i was just visiting mister zhongli! what brings you at such a grim place?”

✎⟆ “fancy seeing you here, my friend! it’s— it’s almost as if we’re fated to meet.”

✎⟆ “s-since you’re here anyways, why don’t i treat you to some dinner?”

༊ each time you find a reason to leave, you managed to get dragged back with promised words like a sumpter beast following a baited stick! not to mention how often he trips over his own words like a man trying to formulate a lie on the spot! ᝰ

༊ he doesn’t even hide the fact that he’s following you at times! even at the desolate deserts of sumeru, even in the dangerous plains of tatarasuna and somehow even found you in the chasm?!

༊ to have been found so intriguing that a harbinger of all people would be stalking you! it unsettled you to no end how much he loved stalking you! what does a sinister figure want with you!?

✃- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

˚◞♡ unbeknownst to you, childe was simply truly enamored with you and your little adventures.

˚◞♡ he’s grown to love how powerful and formidable you are when it comes to fighting. (even if your enemies were mere slimes!)

˚◞♡ he’s been meaning to ask you out directly on dates but your unsettled features and worried expressions made you look so adorable that he couldn’t help but tease you.

˚◞♡ he’s never had trouble with talking to people, but it seems he finds himself stumbling over his own words; perhaps it was because you were his weakness but the smile on his face never seems to fall with you around.

★⟆ “childe..”

✎⟆ “ajax,”

★⟆ “right, ajax, childe, tartaglia.. how did you find me here?”

✎⟆ “oh haha! i frequent this place a lot. you know, it’s quiet and peaceful. great for pondering,”

★⟆ “you.. frequent the chasm’s underbelly..?”

˚◞♡ bleegh! he’s so quirky and wacky, a harbinger not fluent with the language of deceit? say it ain’t so!

˚◞♡ he’s given you bouquets of rainbow roses, calla lilies and even mistflowers!

༊ it’s sweet and all but how did he get into your house?

˚◞♡ leave it to ajax to solely revive the tradition of courtship just for you to return the same fervor. bouquets, dates and ‘fated’ meetings are no issues so long as he gets to be with you.

[kell-be-belle]

TMAGP Thoughts (Spoilers)

I'm an RQ Patreon so I got to hear EP 1 & 2 of Protocol today and I know it'll be a few days for general hype, I need to share my thoughts about a very specific part while it's still fresh in my mind. I'm going to try hard to be articulate about it, but I'm also having a lot of feelings. Spoilers below the cut

On the subject of the program known as Norris. Now, I know that there's no official equation between Norris and Martin Blackwood, but for argument's sake, I'm going to treat them as related. This is also all my own speculation so bear with me.

The first significant sentence we hear Norris say in their reading is "I just couldn't face the thought of the rest of my life never hearing him again." and when I say it knocked the air clean from my lungs, I cannot be exaggerating any less. I immediately burst into tears.

First off, the fact that the reading specifically states the idea of never hearing a loved one's voice again, in a series where voice holds such power, has implications that I can barely even begin to fathom at this moment. And the fact that it is Martin's voice speaking about it must have reason. From what I've gathered in Jonny's writing, there isn't much that can be chalked up to coincidence and I most certainly don't believe that could be the case in something as highly anticipated as Protocol.

Now, as far as we know from the end of Archives, Martin has successfully killed Jon. It's highly likely that Martin is also killed, however, we can still hear him breathing and crying even as the Panopticon collapses around them. It's perfectly reasonable to speculate that Martin somehow survived the aftermath. Meaning, Martin could have very possibly been left to process the insurmountable grief of losing Jon by himself (Which has other themes tying back to his connection with The Lonely that I can't even touch upon)

The reading made by Norris talks about a grieving spouse who is going to some relatively extreme lengths to be reconnected with their husband, Arthur. It appears as though the dearly departed Arthur has somehow come back to the mortal plane. There could be a couple of explanations for this, but I think it could mostly likely be one of two. Either, something is masquerading as Arthur OR Arthur has come back, but has come back wrong.

So here is where things get really sad for me because this is the scenario my mind supplied me with upon gathering all this information:

Martin survives the fall of the Panopticon. Jon is dead. Martin grieves for his lost love. The grief becomes so deep and so all-consuming that Martin becomes desperate to scrounge for any scrap of Jon that could possibly remain. It leads Martin down roads best left untraveled and perhaps, but some miracle or more appropriately a curse, Jon has somehow come back, but, like Arthur, he's come back wrong. Perhaps something with the Eye or the Web or the other fears that possibly looks like Jon, almost certainly sounds like Jon, but is not Jon. And now Martin is left with an impossible choice. To lose himself in the sound of a voice he feared he would never hear again or acknowledge that voice speaks hollow words and silence it to himself permanently.

Anyway, this feels like a bit of a ramble, but I hope it makes enough sense. While a lot of it is speculation, I don't think the fact that it was that particular reading done in that particular voice after those particular events is without some significance. Only time will tell us the truth of what happened. 

[elsgooglyeyes]

first impressions.

summary: short little one-shot about meeting Ellie for the first time, where it escalates into a first date right then and there!

warnings: loser!ellie, confident!reader, fluff, too short lmao

wc: 1.6k

a/n: just something to think about that makes me giggle and kick my feetsies

It's a relatively cold night in Jackson; cold enough to keep everyone inside but not too cold where they stay in their houses. And what is there to do in Jackson during a time like this? Drink at the Tipsy Bison. Which is exactly where Ellie has found herself on this Friday night with Dina. Dina is rambling about her current relationship situation with Jesse, nursing her drink and throwing in a few "ya know's?" here and there. Ellie just nods as her eyes wander around the bar aimlessly, until they land on you.

“Dina…Dina who is that?” Ellie hits Dina's arm quickly and shamelessly interrupts her, to which Dina scoffs in response until she follows Ellie's eyes to you. A smile immediately overtakes her face as she stands up and waves you over.

“That’s my new friend I was talking about earlier! If you were even listening..." She shoots a look at Ellie, to which she misses since she's too busy looking at you. As you approach the two girls you hug Dina quickly and reach out a hand to shake Ellie's. You introduce yourself as you shake hands, and you can't help but notice the pink light dusting her freckled cheeks. "You must be Ellie, right?" You ask since she didn't say anything in response to your introduction. This seems to have broken her out of her trance and she clears her throat, "Y-yeah, sorry. I'm Ellie. It's nice to meet you." She nods softly and smiles at you.

The following conversations consist of "Where are you from?" questions, "Are you alone?" questions, "How did you meet Dina?" questions, until one particular question breaks you out of the monotony. Without breaking eye contact, Ellie asks, “Maybe…" she clears her throat, "I feel comfortable asking, because Dina actually told me something about you…but you’re single, right?” She says and Dina covers her mouth, slightly embarrassed by Ellie mentioning that to you. A smile creeps up on your face and you tilt your head, "Bold and to the point...I like it," you laugh, "but what's it to you?" You question her, eyes squinting. Ellie falters for a moment before Dina rolls her eyes and butts in, “It’s just…Ellie kinda wants to ask you out on a date.” Dina grins wildly and Ellie covers her face with her hands and whispers, “Dina, please shut up.”

You laugh out loud in surprise and look over at Dina, raising your eyebrows. "Well, maybe she should ask me herself...don't you think?" You scrunch your nose and tease as you briefly look Ellie's way. You and Dina exchange a few looks in silence, Ellie's cheeks and ears bright red. You cross your arms and laugh softly, "I'm waaiiitiing, Ellie..." You tease.

Ellie grumbles and looks up at you again. She takes a deep breath and then looks away. “…will you go out on a date with me?” She blurts out and Dina lets out a cheer, patting her on the knee to which Ellie swats her hand away. "It was just the damn pressure..." She mumbles to herself, mostly to make her feel better for the previous actions.

You smile brightly and laugh, "I would love to, Ellie." She looks up at you and smiles, and an unreadable expression crosses her face, "Wait...you-you do like girls? Right?" Ellie asks nervously and Dina snorts, almost spilling her drink. “Oh my god, Ellie…”

You just laugh and nod, "Obviously," chalking it up to her nerves. She nods slowly and chuckles, “Just making sure.” Ellie looks down at the table for a few moments. She’s not as nervous now that she got that out of the way and looks back up at you. “So…is Saturday too soon?”

"Why not now?" You ask.

“Tonight? Now? I mean…” Ellie pauses and makes eye contact with Dina, who is wildly smiling. “Sure.” Ellie says with a nod. You smile and look over at Dina, "You mind if I steal her from you?"

“I thought you’d never ask. Go on, you crazy kids.” Dina giggles and waves Ellie off, who blushes yet again and gets up. Ellie takes your outstretched hand and blushes deeply as you lead her to another booth. Dina watches the two of you with a wide smile, sipping from her drink.

You wave the bartender over and order two whiskeys for the both of you. The bartender nods and walks over to fix the drinks as Ellie glances at you, her eyebrow lightly raised. “Whiskey?” She asks curiously. "Mhm...is that okay?" You ask with your head tilted. Ellie smiles nervously in response, feeling slightly strange but liking the feeling nonetheless. She leans back in her booth slightly when the drinks arrive, looking at you as the bartender walks away. “No...no. It's perfect. Though, are…are you trying to get me drunk?” She gives you a pointed look with her eyebrows raised, biting back a laugh. You think for a second and look at Ellie with curiosity, clearly finding her attractive with her flannel and messy bun, but the thoughts leave as quickly as they came. You take a sip of your drink and shrug, "I dunno honestly." You laugh.

Ellie takes a sip of her whiskey, rolling her eyes at you and crossing her arms again. “I like you…you’re very straight to the point.” She says with a smile. You chuckle and smile at her, "I try."

“And I appreciate it…even if my heart feels like it’s going to explode right now.” Ellie smiles shyly at you and takes a sip of her whiskey again. You blink a few times and a small smirk crosses your face before you lean over the table slightly, "Yeah? Do I really make you that nervous?"

Ellie’s face flushed instantly at the proximity between you and her. She can feel your breath on her face and wants more of it. “Mhm…you make me nervous.” She whispers softly and reaches for her drink, sipping again. “You should feel the way my heart is racing right now.”

A thought enters your mind and you act on it without thinking, ghosting your hand over her chest, but not quite touching her, you whisper, "May I?" Ellie’s heart races again and she watches you. “Do it.” She whispers softly, wanting your warm touch. She leans into the table a bit to allow you better access.

Ellie's heart races even further when you place your hand upon her chest, "Damn, Ellie...that's pretty fast," you giggle, "You should see a doctor for that." All Ellie can do is look down at the table and smile nervously, blushing wildly. She wants…no, she needs your touch again. “It's just because you’re too close.” Ellie whispers.

You pull your hand away and lean back in your seat as you smirk slightly, looking at her green eyes unwaveringly. The silence is quick and filled with a certain type of tension, but is then broken by Ellie. “C’mere.” She whispers softly and motions for you to come closer as she leans forward on the table again. “I want to know what your heart is beating like too.”

You laugh at the somewhat childish yet intimate acts you're both taking part in, but lean forward regardless so she can feel your heartbeat. Ellie gently places her hand over your chest, fingers slightly grazing your skin. She can feel the heat emanating from your body and feels even closer to you as a result. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at her with a soft smile, "What's the diagnosis?" You whisper.

“…it’s beating really fast.” She whispers back and tilts her head, smiling slightly.

"Not as fast as yours," you smile at her.

“Still pretty fast, though.” Ellie whispers and lightly brushes her thumb over your chest. “I can feel your heartbeat through your clothes…” She whispers softly and looks over at your mouth.

You both respectively lean back in your seats, smirking at the other, unable to determine what the next proper move should be. Your head is racing and you decide to ground yourself with something familiar, Dina.

"Who knew that when Dina told me about you I'd actually be this attracted to you. I guess I had her matchmaking skills highly underestimated" You tease. Ellie laughs slightly at your comment and brushes some strands of hair out of her face. “Maybe Dina always knows what’s best for you.” She teasingly replies and looks back down at your lips, hoping she isn't being too obvious (she is). "What did Dina say about me to you, huh? Got me all curious knowing she was talking about me to someone else." She chuckles and throws a glance to Dina at the other side of the bar. Dina smiles brightly and waves big. You both shake your heads and giggle, "Well...she told me you were cute...and funny...a little broodish...that you liked girls..." You trail off, looking into her eyes and smiling softly.

“All things I am.” Ellie smirks and leans forward on the table slightly. “C’mere.” She whispers, her voice soft but authoritative. Ellie isn’t asking anymore. You follow suit and lean over the table slightly so your faces are close, "Yes...?"

"I really wanna kiss you right now, is that lame of me to say?" She smirks slightly.

"Not at all...do it." You demand and bite back a smile.

Ellie grabs the back of your head and pulls you into her as she meets your lips in the middle. She kisses back eagerly and places her free hand on your cheek, her tongue gently exploring your mouth’s every curve. You break the kiss quickly, knowing the awkward position and public place wouldn't provide the best experience. "My place?" You ask her breathlessly.

“Mhm…” Ellie whispers softly, still wanting to kiss you but pulling herself back. She then nods her head slowly. “I would love to go to your place.” She smiles, gently brushing some strands of hair away from your face. You smile brightly and grab her hand to begin walking out of the bar. As you throw on your jacket hastily you wave goodbye to Dina, and blow her a playful kiss. Dina gives you a huge smile, thumbs up, and then a "get outta here" motion. She watches as you both leave the bar quickly, and she shakes her head to herself before continuing to nurse her drink and chat with some other friends.

[lets-try-some-writing]

So, in the pretender au, does optimus have the matrix of leadership, and if so, what does it think of him and the parasite business?

Oh he absolutely does have it and BOY the Matrix and those within it are not happy.

Previous part here.

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He probably should have kept up with the affairs of the living realm, but Liege Maximo gave up somewhere halfway into Nova Prime's reign. Being dead was not all the living children of Primus chalked it up to be, at least not for Liege. Sure there were no more physical concerns, but by the stars, there was none of that peace and quiet nonsense.

Primus had seen fit to put all of the Primes within the Matrix upon their deaths, all to guide those who would come after. It was a logical decision, one Liege saw increadible potential in for himself. If he could get a word in with the chosen Primes, he could manipulate them as he saw fit. Eventually he would find a way to get a new body through the Primes and their near infinite political influence. At least that was his big plan. Unfortunately for him, his siblings were not so keen to let him roam free.

"We are the Primes of old, here to offer our wisdom and guide you, young Prime. But take heed, do not listen to the voice of Liege Maximo. We cannot silence him, and despite his elegant words, he wishes you harm."

It was the same script over and over again. If he was honest, Liege was rather offended. He didn't necessarily want to harm the Primes chosen by the Matrix, he just wanted out of the Primus forsaken relic. It was never ending chatter in their gold gilded prison. Quintus was forever rambling on about something or other. Prima and Amalgemous were constantly bickering over what to do about the newest series of Primes. Then there was Solus who simply refused to shut up about the little glitches who came and claimed the Matrix along with the station it entailed. There was no such thing as peace and quiet within their pocket realm in the Matrix.

As such, Liege simply stopped bothering with the new Primes once they refused to adhere to him more than three times. He listened when his siblings spoke of the new Prime that was meant to come, one supposedly forged in Thirteen's image. However he didn't put much stock in their words. If the next Prime was to be like Thirteen, then he wouldn't be able to say two words before he was shut down. No use trying if he was guaranteed to fail in this case.

At least, that was what his original plan was.

When the time came and a new mech approached the Matrix, Liege was all but shoved forward to observe the candidate. He sighed but observed, quickly growing more and more interested as the mech dragged himself forward.

His limbs were long and gangly, too long to be normal by modern Cybertronian standards according the memories of prior Primes. His optics were wider than they should have likely been, his frame was disproportionate to the point of being almost comical, and the way his field flared was... ominous. He didn't feel like any creation of Primus Liege had encountered. He was certainly still a Cybertronian, but the waves he emitted spoke of CNA that was closer in strain to an Insecticon, or perhaps even Quintus's creations. Something so deviated and yet still intrinsically tied to the Cybertronian template that it neither presented as friend or foe.

The other Primes reeled in confusion. Liege could hear their whispers of how "He isn't the one." But of course, there was no time for his siblings to reject the newcomer as the mech, or perhaps the creature, suddenly dropped to all fours and threw itself forward with preposterous speed. Micronus prepared and electric field around the Matrix, Prima and the others hurried to burn the newcomer if he, or perhaps it, so much as touched them. But in that moment, Liege saw and opportunity. Using what influence he had, he waited until the last moment and disrupted his sibling's defenses, allowing the creature to grab the Matrix and hold it in his far too long digits.

His siblings screamed. Liege smiled as the thing carried the Matrix away, down tunnels and into the dark. His siblings screamed that they would never accept the newcomer, but the thing did not halt in its steps. It moved with purpose until it arrived before an active plasma pit. Liege cackled as the thing held the Matrix over the edge, its voice ringing out in a strange strangled mixture of hisses and chittering.

"We will not adhere to you. Whatever you are, you are not our chosen."

"No, but I am all that remains."

"Leave us. You are not worthy."

"I carry his CNA, his memory, and his goals."

"We do not know you or what you are. You are a face stealer, a creature that haunts the dreams of newsparks."

"I am a failsafe, a being designed to ensure that something of this world endures in the event that my foolish sister race fail to secure their continued existence."

"You are not one of us. We give you nothing. Return us to our resting place so that someone who is worthy may claim us."

"I am afraid I cannot allow that. I need the security that this relic provides. I need the wisdom of the ages in order to ensure that my kind flourish."

"A being such as yourself does not deserve to continue functioning, much less spread."

"Perhaps. But if you will not grant me the wisdom you hold, then none shall possess it."

"You cannot do this. The wisdom we carry is meant only for the Primes."

"Then make me something greater, make me a Prime."

His siblings bickered, but ultimately they conceded. The creature smiled, fangs and mandibles on full display as it parted its chassis to reveal a fully formed spark hidden within a chamber made of calipers more akin to claws. The Matrix was placed within, and the Primes did only the bare minimum to adjust the being they were now bound to. For the first time, Liege put all of his effort into the new Prime. His siblings offered no gifts aside from the usual enhanced strength. But Liege? Oh he did far more than them. With his siblings refusing to augment the new Prime more than absolutely necessary, Liege stepped in.

Looking over the new Prime's biology, Liege wanted to laugh until he passed out. Such a convoluted being. It was a miracle the creature had lasted so long. Plant, Insecticon, base Cybertronian, and even a small portion of Mech-animal CNA were mixed together in an unholy union. The fact that the creature lasted past its conception was surprising in the extreme. It was a wonderful concept, a creature capable of reproducing on its own to eliminate the need for the Well. It's biology allowed it and all its kind to work with the Insecticon colony instinct, getting rid of the pesky emotional distress that the children of Primus felt when put into a role. And most notably, its biology dictated that it's young could be changed, their very CNA adjusted to blend in, to act and seem just like any other Cybertronian... up until it was time for them to wake. It was a brilliant creature, one that simply had a few flaws.

Liege smoothed its coding, easing everything into a far less volatile state so that it would not forever be at odds with itself when around the children of Primus. He adjusted the creature's transformation cog so that it could both have a vehicular alternate mode and shed its disguise without pain. He carefully rearranged how its internals were structured, adjusting its organs to match the children of Primus in appearance so that scanners would not give it away. He went to great lengths to dutifully alter the creature's appearance, granting it something more regal to cover for its natural traits. Then, just as his siblings noticed his intervention, he adjusted one final thing in the creature. It's field was a dead giveaway, so he simply... quieted it. A keen set of optics would still pick the creature out, but the average mech would feel nothing.

When Prima stepped in, halting his changes, Liege simply laughed. The creature had been changed, and now it was guaranteed to last. This being could make Liege a body, and more than that, it was a being made of logic. It would listen to him.

"We will offer our wisdom, but do not heed the voice of Liege Maximo. He will lead you astray-"

"I will adhere to whomever I wish to offer my audial. You will not sway me."

The creature had sensed Liege's changes, it saw him favorably. The other Primes shrank back, most giving up immediacy as the thing's optics became their own. It began its journey toward the surface, toward the Autobots. All the Primes did was plot and pray the creature ended up being killed. Liege however pushed forward, brushing past his siblings to complete the rite.

"We have never had a Prime such as yourself. You need a designation worthy of your station."

"What name would you give me silver speaker?"

"You are the first of your kind, and I believe that given time, you shall usher in a new age for this world."

"Complete your statement. There is little time to waste."

"I would grant you the name Optimus Prime. First of your kind and last of the old line of Primes."

"That is acceptable."

His siblings threatened him, but there was nothing they could do to stop him as Liege kept himself in the forefront of the Matrix. The new Prime did not trust them, and rightly so. The only one who he gave his attention to was Liege, and so Liege did everything in his power to build on the silver of trust given to him. The new Prime was naive in the ways of the world, so Liege directed him. He taught the creature how to speak, how to act, and how to manipulate. He sensed Optimus's will and goals, and he did all he could to assist. He supplied specific memories, cultivating all the knowledge the young Prime consumed. And with every passing cycle, he grew more cunning, more logical-

More like Liege Maximo.

Things were progressing well, but the Prime needed allies he could trust with his nature, and as soon as the Insecticons found him, Optimus had their allegiance. It had been a complete accident, but shortly after Optimus integrated with the Autobots, the nearest Insecticons tracked him down and bowed before him. Liege's augments made Optimus appealing, especially with the Prime's ability to spawn. The Insecticons sensed this, and their coding demanded they follow their "Queen".

The Prime, having cultivated his cunning under Liege's guidance, wanted to do the strategically correct thing and deploy the Insecticons to do his bidding. But Liege stepped in before he could. This was too good and opportunity, and with it, Liege had the chance to make a deal.

"Don't send them out Optimus. Your Autobots are already dubious about you. If you do this, they will find out what you are and refuse to follow you."

"I can conjure a tale. I am a Prime."

"That is true, but you must understand how important reputation is. It would be wiser to use your new subjects to bolster your foundation, to build on what you have."

"What are you suggesting?"

"You cannot spawn because it is not safe for your young yet. But you are also the only one. If you die, your species will have failed."

"Get to the point."

"Use the Insecticons to create a safe haven, a storehouse for your spawn until it is safe for them to grow. The Insecticons will guard them, and in the event all else fails, you can wait until the children of Primus have thinned their ranks and do whatever you wish with your forces."

"That is a logical suggestion."

"Not only that, but should you be killed, some of your young will remain. And in doing so, you also ensure the survival of some of your sister race through the Insecticons."

"I understand. I will follow this advice."

"Good... and to ensure their security, I have a few measures that could be used to guard your brood while you are absent."

"You offer this knowledge too freely. What is it you want?"

"You have learned well. I want a body Optimus. I have been locked in here since the first age, and with your ability to spawn, all you would need to do it connect the Matrix toward your reproductive systems. Then I can move my spark into one of your larva."

"It would mean death for the larva in question."

"A small price to pay for my teachings."

"How do I know you will not turn on me upon receiving a frame?"

"Why would I? You may rule over your kind as you see fit. They would not adhere to me anyway. But in return, I wish to govern the children of Primus."

"You will not harm me or my kin."

"Of course."

"Then the deal is done. Offer me your knowledge to guard my brood, and we shall discuss when you are to receive your frame."

The deal was complete, and Liege could only smile as he sat back and guided the young Prime in his work. Finally, a Prime he could use, a Prime that agreed with him. No matter what happened to Optimus, the creature would keep his oath. In the end, the new species would survive and Liege would get his frame. His siblings begged him to use his trust with the Prime to lead him to death, but Liege refused. They screamed as the named Pretender spawned, and Liege chuckled.

Let them spread, let the Pretenders grow. They would be valuable allies once Liege was set free. They were logical, and so long as Liege had useful skill or wisdom to offer, they would aid him. Optimus had proven as such. The Pretenders were the bane of the Decepticons and Liege Maximo's salvation. He would need to thank the one called Shockwave when all was said and done. The Pretenders were truly extraordinary.

[iamnot-crazy]

Stowaway Chapter 3

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Info: This is my first time posting a story on Tumblr and my first time writing a x reader.

Summary:

The reader is a slave to a nobleman due to her devil's fruit ability which allows her to control the emotions of the people around her. She flees to bump into Trafalgar Law and boards his ship.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

You have now made it your nightly routine to visit your captain once everyone has fallen asleep. You wouldn't use your power every night though sometimes you would sit in the corner you had made and read books with him or allow him to ramble to you to sort out his thoughts. After visiting a town you come back that night to find a black beanbag sitting in the corner you always sit in. You smiled taking it as your invitation to visit more often even when everyone is awake and can notice you sneaking into his office. Rumors did start to spread but they were all cut down by a quick glare from their captain. 

Your powers started to increase now being able to feel people's emotions from across the room now when someone approaches you about their problems you are quick to know who it is and how they are feeling. You revealed your new ability by accident after a very long day when a crew member approached you from behind and you spoke up before they came within 3 feet of you, "No Shachi, Ikkaku is not mad at you for your last prank." You paused trying to read Ikkaku's emotion from across the room, "But she is extremely hungry if you want to make it up to her you should get her something to eat." You spoke without lifting your head and continued to rest on the table in front of you. Shachi froze holding his hand up ready to tap you on the shoulder but shook off any weird thoughts he might have about you and chalked it up to you knowing everyone so well. He smiled with a thank you and ran off to find some food for his angry crewmate. 

Your slip-up would not have been a problem if it wasn't for Law sitting next to you reading the paper. Later that night when you came into his office he immediately questioned you, "Since when have you been able to feel other people's emotions." 

You shrugged, "about 3 weeks ago." you then picked up your current read off the beanbag before plopped down on it. But Law was quick to do the math and realize that was the day he fixed your tattoo. 

"How does it work?" He asked curiously, 

You shrugged again, "I don't know it first started I had to be touching the person then I realized if I take my gloves off I can feel the emotions of the people around me." 

"Your gloves are laced with Seas Prism right?" He question reaching out for your glove to investigate further. You pulled the glove off and handed it to him to investigate. When he put the glove on he tried to call a room but the biggest it would go was the size of a quarter. "If the gloves are limiting your abilities, I wonder how powerful you can be." 

"That would be the goal of the gloves." You state not looking up from your book.

"Have you tried keeping your gloves off for a day?" He asked taking the gloves off and creating a room the size of the office and shambling the book in front of him trading it for another book on sea prism. The first book neatly replaced the new one on the shelves, ever since you began to crash his office you have been bickering with him about putting books back on the shelves and not just on the floor or desk and his office has now been the neatest it has ever been, it was still a mess with paperwork sprawled on the desk and the books are not in any particular order but you still consider it a win. 

"I don't enjoy the feeling of everyone's emotions." You state answering his earlier question. But he ignored your response and continued to read about sea prism and its effects on devil fruit users. No book mentions anyone trying to conceal their powers like you do forcing its limitation. He swaps the book out for another on devil fruits and he finds a section about the feel-feel fruit. His eyes darted across the page surprised he hadn't read up on your powers before. 

You slam your book shut gaining his attention, "I can feel your brain working overtime. Please don't tell me you are reading up on my devil fruit abilities." You watch as he quickly closes the book and shuffles it off to the side biting the inside of his cheek. You shake your head, "I didn't choose to have this devil fruit ability yes it has its perks but it has mostly just caused pain in my life." You grab the glove off his desk and place it back on your hand limiting the range of your powers and blocking off the feeling of guilt your captain was radiating. "I would prefer to keep my powers limited." You snatch the book off the desk and place it back on the shelf in a spot where you'll be able to tell if it moved. "Maybe it's time to head to sleep." 

Law sighed, "I think I am going to stay up a bit longer." He stated turning back to his desk and notes.

"Fine but please don't try and learn more about my powers and if you do please don't tell me I don't want to know." You sigh before walking out of the room.

Law stayed true to your ask and the devil fruit book stayed in its position on the shelf but his eyes kept hovering over the book, he just wanted to know if you knew how he was starting to feel towards you but he thinks he already knew that answer. 

**

The ship docked at an island with a large town and the crew was ready to explore. Everyone departed from the ship and took off down the street exploring the shops. You, Shachi, and Ikkaku decided to explore together mainly Ikkaku and you dragged Shachi along on your shopping trip for clothing. 

Bepo and Law went out together unable to contain the crew who was excited to depart from the ship and stretch their legs. Law dragged Bepo into the bookstore where they collected a large stack of books. 

You laughed as you skipped down the street and Shachi groaned holding two bags of clothing for you and Ikkaku. Suddenly you bumped into someone and you turned around to quickly apologize but froze when you saw who you bumped into. A large arm reached down and grabbed your arm yanking you upwards. 

You let out a small scream as the large man held your arm and pulled you off the ground. Ikkaku and Shachi quickly began shouting at the man and running towards you, Shachi even dropped the bags he was holding. 

"I haven't seen you in a long time where have you been?" The man hissed in your face spitting slightly, You started to pull at your arm trying to free yourself. "Your master is worried sick about you. I should bring you to him, maybe he will reward me if I do. Or maybe he will let me beat you back into submission." 

You pale and stop struggling in fear, your eyes never leaving the man who would visit the mansion often to abuse your ability and beat you when he wasn't satisfied. Your master allowed it thinking you would learn how to use your powers more if the sense was beaten into you. Your heart was pounding outside your chest and the world seemed to have stopped. 

Your ears rang with static drawing out any noise Ikkaku and Shachi were making as the guards of the man held them back. The only thing you could hear was the threats the man was making and your heart racing. 

"ROOM!"

"SHAMBLES!"

You felt the grip on your arm disappear and you were surrounded by fur lying in Bepo's arms you could nearly make out the figure of your captain with his sword out and in a fighting stance in front of you. "Take her back to the ship." He hissed his voice breaking through the static. You turned your head into Bepo's chest and began sobbing. You couldn't do anything in the arms of your past abuser but stare and panic. 

Bepo ran as fast as he could away from the fight the Captain was ending. Without a second thought, Law ran up to the man who held you hostage and sliced him in half using his fruit ability to keep him alive while doing so. The guards turned to help their commander but were held back by Ikkaku and Shachi who pulled out their katanas and began fighting back. 

The man Law had cut in half just began laughing, "So she has been with you Trafalgar Law, has she been treating you well?" He laughed so more, "Oh how I missed her powers always made my day so refreshing and when it didn't teaching her a lesson would." 

Law's knuckles went white as he ran up to the man using his powers to conduct an electric shock to the half of his body where his heart lay. "YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HER AGAIN!" Law shouted conducting another electric shock on the man who lay unconscious on the ground from the first blow. Law screamed as he continued to slash at the man dicing him into pieces. 

Law stopped when more of his crew joined in the fight taking down the guards. Penguin was the first to run up to his captain to try to stop the terror he was inflicting upon the man who was probably a noble of some sort. He grabbed the arm of his captain and pulled it backward to convince him to stop and follow them as now they needed to make a quick escape before the Marines showed up. 

They left but the man before them was not dead but in so many pieces it would take the Marines all day to put him back together and Law hoped that process would be antagonizing. 

The crew rushed aboard the ship where you remained in Bepo's arms crying uncontrollably. The rest of the crew was already aboard the ship surrounding Bepo and you with concern. They turned when Law approached scared of his reactions and quickly stepped out of his way as he approached you. 

Bepo was holding you tight trying to calm you bouncing you like a baby but nothing was working. Your breathing started to hicks as you attempted to suck in air but were unable to in your state which cause more panic inside of you and you began to choke yourself in sobs. Law noticed this and immediately ran over to you trying to calm you but nothing he could do would work, he picked up a nearby rock shouting shambles, replaced it with a sedative, and swiftly stabbed it into your arm. 

Your breathing and heart rate slowed back to normal levels and your sobs quieted. Bepo's tight grip on you loosens and the mink looks up at his captain for answers along with the rest of the crew. 

"Who was that guy?" Shachi finally spoke up above the quiet blanket that covered the crew. 

"Somebody from y/n past." Law answers not speaking much on your past without your say.  He places two fingers on your neck to observe your heart rate.

"He said her master missed her... Was.. Was y/n a slave?" Ikkaku dared to ask the larger question and the crew was filled with confusion and anger the feeling of protectiveness of the crew could be felt from a mile away.

Law pulled you out of Bepo's arms and into his own, "I will not answer questions about, y/n, while she is unable to speak for herself. We need to leave this town before the Marines show up. prepare the ship for dive." He ordered before storming off with you in his arms. He made a beeline for the Medical room placing you comfortably down on the table. He checked your heart rate for the hundredth time to ensure that not only were you alive but that you were not having an adverse reaction to the sedative. 

After an hour of Law bouncing his knee impatiently waiting for you to wake up and crewmembers approaching the door debating about asking for an update you finally woke up. Your eyes fluttered open and your arm reached to your head to block the light in your eyes. As soon as you moved Law jumped onto his feet, "Y/N!" 

You moaned in response, "What happened?" you looked over at Law, whose eye bags were darker than normal and his emotions of worry and concern hit you like a rock. You looked at your hand to see that your gloves were missing which is why you could feel not only Laws worry but the entire crew who rested outside the door. "Where are my gloves?" You mumbled trying to sit up. 

Law passed the gloves he was holding to one keep his powers in check and two to ensure the gloves would not hinder your recovery. You put the gloves on closing off your connection to the emotions of the entire crew. With your gloves on you could now feel your own emotions hit you like a wave as the memories of today came back. Your head began to split with pain and the room began to spin. Unable to contain yourself you hunched over and vomited on the floor followed by tears. Law grabbed you by your shoulder keeping you stable.

"y/n look at me. Look at me." Law begged so you lifted your head and met his eyes. Your eyes were the darkest black that he had ever seen. "He is gone he not going to hurt you ever again."

You sniffled away some tears, "I was so scared Law. I was so scared and I didn't do anything just stared. I... I. Can't go back... They'll break me. I can't go back." you sobbed into your captain's shoulder.

He held you close to him and patted your head. "you won't I promise." he rubbed your back to comfort you as you sobbed. "have you ever heard of the will of D."

You pull back shaking your head and wiping away your tears to look at him clearly. "the will of D refers to the family of D which is also referred to as the natural enemy of god. And the celestial dragons refer to themselves as Gods." your mind wandered searching for his point. "my full name is Trafalgar D. Water Law." he paused to wipe away a stray tear of yours, "which means no one can touch you not while I'm here."

You smiled but tears still built up in your eyes and Law wished he had your power so that he could ease your pain.

***

Next Chapter

[bionicle-ramblings]

Sooooo

I just learned about a character named Nixie, and now I want to just ramble about this character

For starters, she's a Ga-Matoran and her job on Mata Nui is as an Astrologer

As we all know, most if not all of the Matoran in the MU were in Metru Nui before the Great Cataclysm and they moved to Mata Nui. Despite having their memories of Metru Nui wiped, the Matoran still maintained who they were; Takua still wandered around, Jaller was still by the book, et cetera

My train of thought here is that Nixie was very much an unofficial astrologer, or at least someone who studied astrology, doing so more than other studies. Like, her studying astrology wasn't a bad thing, but it wasn’t smiled upon because she was already studying something else, like history or something

I imagine Nixie was sort of "Ga-Metru's Takua," but instead of wandering around from place to place, her mind wandered instead, to the point where her destination was the stars above, and was often possibly either late to lectures because she was in Ko-Metru to borrow a telescope or frighteningly early and would remind the teachers of things they might have missed as they taught, as if she'd somehow found out what they would be teaching

And I imagine that she was a good, but infuriating student because despite being late or ealy to classes, she would know what the teachers were teaching, even if no one told her. Eventually, enough teachers got fed up and threw her to Nokama, who was a multi-award winning student

At first, Nokama was expecting someone to be a slacker, someone who wouldn't even show up, wouldn't engage, maybe even have to be threatened by Vahki to go to a class and stay for its entirety. What she found instead was a new Matoran in her class that was the first to be there and greeted her by name and asked if they were learning about purifying protodermis, which surprised Nokama because she usually keeps her notes on her lectures under lock and key. Nixie, to calm her teacher, assured her that her notes are safe, but advised she find a better hiding spot for them; under a sleeping pallet is cliche and that's the first place anyone will look

Nokama was, rightfully, shocked and made a mental note to keep an eye out for Nixie. That unease did not go away when Nixie kept staring up at the sky rather than paying attention, yet knew what Nokama was teaching, to the point she could repeat it back to her with no problem. Or when, after class, Nixie warned Nokama to be careful near the protodermis canal, something that one of Nokama's friends told her not to worry about

She started worrying when she almost drowned after falling into the very canal, and more when Nixie arrived late to a class, racing in from Ko-Metru, and told Nokama that she's about to have great honor bestowed on her, as well as tragedy that would take centuries to heal

And that tragedy came in the form of Lhikan giving Nokama the Toa stone and Nokama becoming a Toa

Just imagine Nokama seeing Nixie again with the other Toa Metru around, and Nixie, who has only ever met Nuju and Nokama, greets Whenua, Onewa, Matau, and Vakama by name and their previous occupations. It freaks out everyone, even when Nixie's disappointed that Vakama didn't see her in his visions, though she chalks that up to her role not being THAT big to be a vision. Nuju slows her down, telling everyone that he knows Nixie because she traded trinkets for using a Ko-Metru telescope, and then she got too good at seeing ahead. Nixie calls him a slow-poke, and Nuju tells Nokama she has a smart student

And, to go back to something I was saying before, I imagine that with her foresight, Nokama is worried because there's that occasional, "I'm being watched," feeling she gets, and later sees Vhisola GLARING at Nixie as Nixie stares up at the sky and tries to see the stars, even when it's broad daylight. Nixie does mean well, proven when she shows Nokama bits of an artifact she found and had to fist fight another Matoran for(don't ask), I just love the image of Vhisloa glaring at Nixie, seething at how a star staring know-it-all can both take Nokama's attention amd also be a source of Nokama's fear, when really Nixie is trying to read the stars and see which way home is the best trying to see how long it takes for stars to be hidden when the twin suns rise

Back to Toa stuff, imagine Nixie seeing Nokama leave Ga-Metru and, when asked to elaborate on the "tragedy" she foresaw, she only tells Nokama that a shadow is growing in Metru Nui and if she told Nokama what she saw, Nokama would hesitate and she's not in a position to do that anymore. With very ounce of respect she has, Nixie wishes Nokama luck on her journey and thanks her for being such a wonderful teacher and an amazing Toa. Nokama points out how Nixie makes it sound like they'll never see each other again, and Nixie admits she'd rather not elaborate on that

And Nokama only understands why when she becomes a Turaga and finds Nixie again, only now Nixie is staring up at a new night sky and is speechless at both how beautiful it is and how exciting it is to have something new to learn