#halfway through this i had to stop bc he was looking a little too much like Me

[renshengs]

putting tim in clothes i own

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Here are some German specific quirks I think König would have <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

(yes, I know he's Austrian, but the difference is really only that they talk funny and have better desserts)

♡ he HATES fans and air conditioning. Like I'm talking disdain from the deepest pits of hell kinda hate.

Ceiling fans and AC are not a thing here, and literally every German looks at it with a very disapproving look if there happens to be one somewhere.

König absolutely refuses to sleep with the fan or AC on, just open a window, Liebling!

He's so upset that he can't put the window "auf kipp" :( (pls Google it, it's so hard to explain lol) like he's crushed that he can't keep the windows "auf kipp" all day.

You have a ceiling fan? Nope, not anymore. That thing is getting taken down the minute you move in together. But if you insist on keeping it, he'll secretly cut the cable to the switch.

Everyone knows all they do is whirl around dust and make you sick! He's not having it.

König acts like artificial ventilation is his worst enemy (I agree with him) and he'd rather suffocate than turn on the goddamn AC.

♡ Sundays are strictly lazy/rest days. Nothing's open on Sundays here, so we're forced to relax and not run around like headless chickens trying to get things done.

He's absolutely baffled if you have plans to go somewhere on a Sunday. What do you mean you need to run errands? What do you mean you're going out? And if you want him to come along?? Yeah, no.

His brain stops working. After the many years he's been alive, not once has he gone somewhere on a Sunday that wasn't his Oma's house for Kaffee und Kuchen.

You're not going anywhere. Plans are canceled, and you better spend the day on the couch with him.

♡ König probably misses all the beautiful old architecture Vienna has to offer. You don't quite appreciate it as much when it's just there all the time, but now he wishes he could quietly people watch in the city center :(

In my mind he's a bit of a history nerd, so he probably frequented museums and castles, admiring the delicately sculpted ceilings and wondering how people lived back then.

He'd be most fascinated by the masonry work done on the outside of most buildings. I mean, that's stone, but it's so smooth and carefully crafted.

♡ there are some very weird sayings in German that you just can't translate because they don't make sense. König is sick of having to awkwardly try to explain what they mean after he's been caught muttering one under his breath, only to realize halfway through that he looks like a maniac.

German is a very literal language, and I think he misses speaking it. We have very specific words for some things and he probably struggles to talk in English sometimes purely because the words he wants to use just don't exist.

(I'm very upset they didn't give him an Austrian accent bc it's one of my favorites, but I can also confidently say that I think he wouldn't be taken seriously at all if he had one lmao)

♡ König goes on random ass walks sometimes. Where's he going? On a walk. No, like where is he going? HE'S GOING ON A WALK.

There's no destination, you just walk. No matter the weather. Ya walk until you feel like you've walked enough. (A very German experience and I hate it)

♡ dreams of his Oma's Kaiserschmarn (me too, König, me too.)

It's basically a giant pancake that you tear into little pieces (traditionally, it has raisins too, I think) and you eat with either cinnamon sugar or applesauce (or both) and you will drift up to heaven.

It's warm, it's fluffy, it's sweet;

It's perfect for a gloomy Friday afternoon spent with his Oma and Opa 🥺

(Can you tell that I'm projecting)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"Auf kipp" is a very specific window position where only the bottom two hinges stay attached so you can tilt the window towards you and a little crack is open so you can always have fresh air!

"Oma und Opa" grandma and grandpa, which he loves so much, undoubtedly.

"Kaffe und Kuchen" basically tea time. You get together and eat cake and have coffee! Mostly on the weekends :)

"Kaiserschmarn" what dreams are made of.

🩷

[flseur]

꒰ 𐙚 holiday sex — jjk men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : winter dates that jjk men would take you on, and what happens after them !

⟡ characters : satoru gojo, kento nanami, suguru geto

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, size kink, standing doggy, overstimulation, soft to rough sex, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, praising, squirting

౨ৎ note : this started off as a genshin fic but i turned into a jjk one bc i haven’t posted anything for it in a bit

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

❥₊ ⊹ with his apartment being right near a canal, during the winter time it was bound to be frozen over. and one of satoru’s favourite things to do, ever since he was a child, was ice skating.

so when the months got colder, and the ice was thick enough to skate on, he was excited to have you celebrate that tradition with him. he made you sit on a bench while he tied your skates and made sure that your jacket was tightly done up before taking you by the hand, leading you on the ice.

his nose and cheeks were flushed red due to the cold weather the two of you were once outside in, but also because of the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around his cock.

he had you bent over the granite top of his kitchen counter, the idea of the hot chocolates you once craved long forgotten with how satoru was bullying your velveteen walls.

your slick messily coated his length, dripping down his balls as he pulled soft mewls from your throat. the thrusts of his cock were delicious paired with the feeling of his large hands grabbing at the soft skin of your hips, pulling them back to meet his thrusts halfway.

"a-ah! satoru! s'big..." your words slur, your mind was too focused on the searing pleasure your boyfriend was giving you instead of forming a full sentence.

satoru curses at the sounds of your moans, your sobs only spurring him on more. he watches the fat of your ass move each time his thick cock grinds into your pussy. his pace was unrelenting and his thrusts were calculated, each one hitting that gooey spot inside of you.

you were so perfect. pretty face with crystalline tears running down the apples of your cheeks, back sinfully arched, clothes discarded, and your cunt that satoru swore was made just for him was milking him dry.

"so perfect, baby..." he groans, "you're so fucking perfect." then one of the hands that was on your hip slithered to where the two of you were connected. his lithe fingers feathered above your clit, teasing you lightly.

"don't tease..." you sigh. your breath hitches then fades into a moan when you feel his digits begin to rub circles on the bundle of nerves.

it was all too much. satoru was too much. the feeling of his cock dragging through your walls, him playing with your clit, and his moans. he invaded your every sense and you swore you could feel him everywhere all at once.

"ohmygod... g'nna cum, fuck!" you cry out, body spasming and pussy convulsing as white, hot pleasure shoots across your abdomen. your legs were about to give out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure but satoru's strong grip on your hips is tight and his cock is still pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt.

"give me one more, baby... one more..."

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI

❥₊ ⊹ what started off as kento travelling overseas to new york for a business trip, turned more into a vacation with you accompanying him on it.

he at first was very adamant about focusing on doing the paperwork for his up and coming meeting for the company’s clientele. but when it comes to you, his workaholic demeanour faltered fairly quickly.

he let you drag him down the snowy-covered concrete paths of new york to look at the different stores, hand in hand. you stopped at different shops and bought a few gifts for friends for the holiday season, then you pulled him over to some little cafe in an old brownstone building to grab warm apple ciders, hoping it would satiate your sweet tooth.

and as the sun sets, casting the beautiful city in an orange haze, the two of you decide to make your way back to the hotel you were staying at. as the two of you unlock the door to your room, you can't help but give your husband a sweet smile. and kento can't help but kiss it off of your face.

those sweet kisses turned into something more. winter coats discarded and your clothes soon following after them, as you've now found yourself underneath kento, moaning and swallowing back loud sobs as his cock stretched out your little hole.

kento peppered open-mouth kisses on your neck as he shallowly thrusts inside your pussy. "fuck… sweetheart... stop squeezing so tight..." he groans.

"you feel s'good, kento..." you moan, fingers lacing themselves through his blonde hair, tugging at the roots.

his thrusts sped up, fucking into you at a rougher pace and you cry out.

he pulls away from your neck to look at you, god you were so beautiful. kento brings one of his large hands down to your abdomen and presses down on it, watching your eyes roll back into your head. the strained moans he was pulling from your throat were heaven-sent.

your pussy pulsed around his cock, dragging him further in. kento's head lolled back as he felt you squeeze him tight again. the hand that was once on your abdomen creeps down and rubs fast circles on your puffy clit.

he couldn't hold back his moans as he continued to fuck you senseless. you felt so good but hell, he looked so fucking hot right now, you could cum just at the sight of him.

his usual stoic facial expression was completely gone and replaced with one overwhelmed with pleasure. his skin was flushed pink all over, hair messily pushed out of his face and his abs, covered in a sheen of sweat, contracted with every rut into your messy pussy.

your orgasm washed over you with little to no warning, you grabbed at kento's broad shoulders as you shook from the intensity of it, nails digging into the skin and he groans.

"o-oh fuck! kento!" you cried out. "cum inside! please cum inside!" you were begging him to fill you up, to make you mess. and that was all he needed to hear to have him spiral into his own orgasm. kento's thrusts became irregular as his hips stuttered, eventually stilling inside of you.

"shit..." he cursed as he came, his cock twitching inside of your dripping cunt. "you're so messy..." he chuckled, pulling out watching his cum dripping out of your hole.

"says you..." you mumble, hiding a smile, "you look like shit for a serious businessman."

"haha." kento gives a sarcastic laugh then lays down on your chest, pressing kisses to your jawline.

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

❥₊ ⊹ as winter comes each year, the weather gets colder which meant that it was finally the perfect time to stay inside. so when you looked outside of your apartment and seen it snowing, you decided that it was the perfect time for you and your boyfriend, suguru, to do some holiday festivities.

"oh wow!" you gasp, looking at his gingerbread house. “a-are the windows supposed to look like they’ve been broken into?”

suguru snorts at your question, “they’re supposed to be curtains. and this,” he points at two blobs of icing that you were assuming to be snow piles, “is us. see?”

“really?” you ask, trying your hardest not to laugh. his effort at trying to make this cute made your heart swell, but he wasn’t exactly the best at executing it.

“no, i’m just fucking with you,” he laughs. “i forgot to put the metal thing on the icing bag so it just spilled out there.”

“you mean the piping tip?”

“yeah, that thing.” he smiles.

you giggle at him then yawn lightly. “do you want to go watch that christmas movie now?” you ask.

suguru nods his head, you could tell that he was getting a bit bored with decorating the gingerbread houses. so, the two of you quickly cleaned up then head to the couch.

though soon enough, you weren't paying much attention to the movie. suguru had peeled your clothes off of you, leaving searing kisses in his wake, completely distracting you from the film. as he reached lower and lower, you felt your breath hitch when he was face to face with your cunt.

"need me this badly, baby?" he teases, bringing up a teasing finger to your folds, collecting your arousal on the tip of it.

and who were you to ignore him? you did need him, especially when he was looking up at you behind those long black eyelashes, and his pink lips so close to where you wanted him most.

"y-yes..." you stutter, "please.."

suguru smirks then leans in and licks a stripe from your hole to your clit. his lips wrap around your bundle of nerves as one of his digits pushes into your pussy, thrusting in and out.

you choke back a sob when he adds a second, then a third finger into your aching cunt, hips grinding down onto his face. he hums against your clit, pulling back to watch you.

your face was contorted in pleasure, one hand grabbing at the cushion of the couch while the other grabbed at your own breast, pinching and tweaking your pert nipple. you were making it harder and harder for suguru to ignore the ache of his cock, begging to be freed from the confines of his boxers.

he brings his mouth back to your pussy, flattening his tongue and then swirling your clit around with it as his fingers continue to pump inside you at an unapologetic pace.

"just like that! mph!" you cry out, arching your back. you were so dizzy, the feeling of suguru's tongue in between your folds was driving you crazy.

the taste of your arousal was intoxicating to him, he wanted you to cum so badly. but he wanted you to cum, everywhere.

as your moans become higher pitched, suguru knew you were going to come soon. he angled his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside of you, your eyes rolled backwards as you orgasmed with a strangled cry.

"i-i'm cumming! oh! fuck!" you hiccup, hips spasming against suguru's face as you squirt. your arousal coats his hand, upper arm, lower half of his face and suguru drank it all in.

"that's it, princess... make a mess on my face." he mumbles, fingers still pistoning inside your pussy. you felt yourself being hurrled into your second orgasm and it was coming quickly.

"suguru! can't! is t'much! oh my fucking god!" you sob, gasping as you cum for a second time. white flashes blurred your vision as your head spun, hips sputtering and your pussy clenched around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm.

"good girl." suguru praises you, finally removing his soaked digits from your sopping pussy. he presses a kiss to your clit before coming up to kiss your temple. "you did so good for me, baby.”

flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.

[crownofgildedlilies]

my peaceful nights belong to you

in which: a son of poseidon has himself convinced a daughter of athena doesn’t want to listen to him complain.

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of athena!reader

warnings: angst, my poor percy has been through TOO MUCH

tropes: hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers

word count: 2.1k

a/n: friendly reminder that request r open (esp for headcanons) and bc I have a four hour layover tmrw I will be absolutely active on here. plz enjoy. also, this is inspired by a tiktok I saw that said Percy's trauma is so overlooked. so here's me not overlooking it.

All eyes were on the great Percy Jackson.

Yours were, too, don’t be fooled. You had always found him impossible to look away from. But it wasn’t admiration you were studying him with as tales of his quests were told and retold and embellished around the bonfire. Quests you had been on, each and every time.

No, you were watching him with concern.

Because the son of the sea was drowning in all the attention.

It was almost painful for you to watch, but you couldn't look away.

A beautiful train wreck, you supposed, studying Percy's uncomfortable but obliging conversation with one of the newer sons of Ares who hadn't been around for Kronos or Gaea and simply thought fighting in those wars had been fun.

But people had died. Your people, your friends. It was war, and it was painful, and even though you were the daughter of the war goddess, you hated it with every inch of your being.

No amount of planning on your behalf could have saved Beckendorf. There was no stopping Leo from sacrificing himself.

"That's called being a demigod," Percy had told you one day, offhanded, sometime between nearly dying in a volcanic explosion and being stolen from her by Hera.

"That doesn't mean we have to stand idly by and accept it," You had countered, frowning, and Percy must have realized he'd said something that had upset you, because he had pulled you into a hug and muttered an apology you still hadn't worked out was necessary or not.

But what you did know was that he was your best friend, that you had been in love with him since you were both fourteen, and he absolutely did not want to talk about all his past glories like a good little Greek hero.

Seated on a front-row bench with Grover on on side and an assortment of other campers you knew he wasn't close with surrounding him, you knew you had to run a rescue mission.

Especially since Grover was too distracted by eating his marshmallow roasting stick to realize how tense Percy was as the Ares kid went on and on.

"Perce, there you are." You wedged yourself into the not-entirely open spot next to your best friend, smile on your lips and a sly look in your eyes. Percy's own widened in sight relief, his arm wrapping loosely around your shoulders in a casual movement that was entirely too familiar. "Thought you ran off on me."

"Never," He sighed, some of his tension already dissipating. You grinned a little unevenly at him, not wanting to give the others watching any clues that the great Percy Jackson wasn't completely and utterly alright.

"Good," You bumped him with your shoulder, and he squeezed his arm around you for just a brief moment, tugging you close to his side. You had to turn and face the young Ares boy to keep yourself focused. "How are your archery lessons coming?"

The new camper looked slightly put out about the change in conversation, but you pinned your stare on him and didn't back down. For a moment, you thought he would continue to pester Percy with questions about fighting in two wars, even with you sending up very clear signals that neither of you were interested.

But the boy made the right choice, launching into a rant about how long range combat was not his strength.

Halfway through the story about almost shooting Connor Stoll's foot, you felt Percy lean towards you, his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he dropped his voice to a whisper, meant only for you.

"Thank you,"

Since you had taken half a seat, your body was pressed firmly against his from your ankles to your shoulders. His touch warmed your skin like a sunny day on the beach, and you weren't sure if it was a son of Poseidon thing or a Percy Jackson thing.

So instead of answering him, you set one of your hands on his leg, just above his knee, and squeezed.

The moon was shining over camp when you gave up on finding sleep and decided to sneak out.

You’d been around long enough to know just how to sweet talk Mr. D into letting you be out past curfew, and Chiron had a soft spot for you, since you helped save the world. Twice. It was the harpies catching you that you were afraid of.

Travis Stoll had almost learned the hard way that Mr. D was not kidding about them eating campers.

But children of Athena had passed on the secret to sneaking out through generations, and you were exploiting that very information for a midnight trip to the lake to stargaze there when you spotted movement on the roof of Cabin Three.

Really, you weren't in control of your own actions as you turned swiftly to change course. Maybe it was Tyche with her luck or Aphrodite with her meddling in the affairs of the heart that had you scaling the side of Poseidon's cabin, a path you had taken more than once.

Or maybe, for once, you couldn't blame the gods. Maybe you were the only one making the choices that had you settling on your back beside Percy on the slanted cabin roof.

He hadn't seemed all too surprised to see you, but all he offered in way of greeting was a nod before he returned to studying the sky above.

You only let the silence last for three minutes, a gnawing feeling in the pits of your stomach unable to let it be.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, voiced simultaneously quiet and startlingly loud in the otherwise silent night. With your head turned to watch his side profile, you watched him tumble from his thoughts and back onto that rooftop, with you.

"What?" He was playing coy, you knew him well enough. What you didn't understand was why he was holding back with you, of all people. You, who had been there with him from the night Grover dragged him over Half-Blood Hill. Who had followed him and Grover and Annabeth across the country to save his mom, who fought Luke and Kronos with him, and mourned the loss of so many friends.

You, who hadn't slept for six months when he disappeared, only to find him in New Rome with the claim that he had forgotten everyone and everything but you.

His tether to his life. His best friend. His something more.

"About whatever is bothering you so much tonight." You shot him a flat look, but his was still doing a good job at avoiding your eye. Frowning, you nudged him with your elbow. "I saw you at the bonfire, Perce. Something is eating at you."

For a moment, it was silent. And then Percy drew in a deep breath, like he was readying himself for something, but he still hadn't looked at you.

"I guess I’ve just been thinking about just… everything." He sighed, but you could hear the apprehension and exhaustion in his voice. He was still keeping things back, but you couldn't understand why. And that killed you, as a child of Athena. "I've been fighting since I—we—were twelve. It's too..."

"Too what?" You prompted when he trailed off, his voice dying in the warm night air. Your hand brushed against his on the rooftop between your bodies, and you considered the risks of just grabbing his hand and squeezing to offer comfort while he sorted through his thoughts.

"Forget it." He shook his head, and your heart sunk. "You don’t want to hear me complain."

You frowned, twisting to face the sky and wracking your Athena blessed mind for some way to prove to him that you did, in fact, want to hear it. You wanted to hear anything, ever, that he had to say.

But when words failed you, actions didn’t, and you finally stopped pretending to accidentally brush your pinky against his and just wrapped your hand around his.

You both stayed like that for a while, quiet and thinking, until you turned your head to face him, unsurprised to find a stormy look on his face while he still studied the stars. Maybe he was thinking of Zoë, of all the others the two of you had lost over the years.

But you were thinking about him, only.

"I’ve been fighting with you since you came to camp," Your words were quiet, little more than a summer’s breeze brushing across Percy’s skin, but you knew he heard you. "But maybe now we’re not fighting monsters anymore. Maybe we’re fighting the memories and scars they left behind. But I’m still fighting with you, Percy."

He turned his head, then, his eyes finding yours like they were always meant to. And, deep down, part of you knew they were.

Every shared glance during combat, or after a stupid joke, or when a battle ended and all either of you could do was search the carnage for a hint of the other—those eyes had found you.

"I’m just so scared I’ll never get to live my life.” Percy confessed, voice hauntingly hollow. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back like a lifeline. “I don’t know if I’m running away from what’s already happened or into the next big mess. And what if next time… what if…"

He trailed off, eyes wide in panic, a bit of desperation. You squeezed his hand again, because you couldn’t give him the words. He needed to find them himself.

Percy screwed his eyes shut and darted forward, slotting his mouth over yours in an unexpected, horribly angled kiss. Teeth clashed together, your bottom lip caught in the mayhem and you gasped at the slight bite of pain.

He jumped back like you had burned him, propped up on one arm as he leaned on his side next to you.

"I, shit, I shouldn’t have—" He fumbled for words, already trying to shuffle further away from you, but you held tight onto his hand to keep him close, sitting up to follow him. "Please, let’s just forget about this, okay? I just, I got caught up in everything and—"

"Tell me you didn’t want to kiss me, then." You promoted, brows knitted together as you studied his face, desperate for a glimpse of how he was feeling revealed to you in the moonlight. "Because if you can’t say it meant nothing to you, you need to tell me, right now."

"I… can’t say it."

And just like that, you were the one kissing him, one hand curving around the back of his neck to keep him close while the other remained threaded through his fingers. His free hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin as if he needed confirmation that this was real, that you were real.

When you finally pulled apart to breathe, you didn’t go far. Not from him. Never from him.

"I was worried next time I wouldn’t get the chance to do that." Percy finished his thought from before, a little dazed from the kiss you both had been long awaiting, apparently. You smiled softly and closed your eyes, pressing your forehead against his.

"If you’re running towards the next prophecy, I’ll run with you." You promised, pausing only briefly to shift your position so you and Percy were laying on the roof again, only this time your head was propped on his chest and his arm was wrapped securely around you. "But if you want to sit up here and talk about the monsters you’re running from, I’ll do that, too."

"Thank you." He echoed his words from the earlier bonfire. And you could tell from his voice that he really was thankful. Because as tough as he was, Percy Jackson was still half mortal. "I…" He started, the air thick with tension about what he was going to confess. "I keep having dreams about Tartarus."

You let him talk, devoting your attention and mind to him, tracing shapes and stars and waves against his chest by your head while he spoke.

Time moved quickly that way, with talk of his fears and what weighed heavily on his mind broken up only when his throat would clog with emotion and you would tilt your head up to kiss away the memory long enough for him to regain his composure.

Because no one knew him better than you, and he didn't have to be the great Percy Jackson with you.

He could just be Percy, the boy who was haunted by his past and terrified of his future.

And you would give him all of your peaceful nights for him to have only one.

[iiiiiiis-things]

"Yeah, that nigga dick a bitch down"

pairing: duke dennis x femblack!reader

cw: cursing, smut, dick eating, backshots, annoying references that i found funny but you should ignore them bc i'm jus a huge goof ball

blurb: seeing duke ride the mechanical bull at the rodeo made you incredibly horny.

a/n: y'all i took way to long to make this just for it to come out ass 😛

"fuck" Duke lets out a loud groan, throwing his head back his gaming chair, as his mushroom tip hit the back of your throat. you were struggling, the slight curve that you loved oh so much (and that he fucked you so good with) wasn't making it easier, and although your lips rested prettily a little over halfway around his cock, you wanted to take all of him as your vision becoming blurry you slightly suck to ease the pain- earning another groan from the man above, you wanted to literally swallow him whole. he had you waiting too long for this.

------

you had been trying to give him hints all night, from giving slight brushes against his thigh, to full on grinding your ass against what you wanted most- and through all of it he barely even spared you a single glance. it might be pathetic but you were desperate.

ever since you seen him on that damn bull.

the way he skillfully held the strap in his left hand instantly flooded your brain with memories of the many, many times when he would yank your freshly done knotless braids while giving back shots and how you could barley walk for 3 days. You watched as the bull lifted up which caused Duke to grind ever so lightly on top of it and when it lifted him back down his hips rolled again, this action made you clench your thighs together behind the camera, your hole clenching as heat pooled in your pretty pink lace panties

Duke didn't stay on long, getting thrown off quicker than anyone had expected. When he did fall off, he jogged back over to you and Davo grabbing the camera so one of us could go on. after declining to ride the mechanical machine Davo makes his way over to it. Duke leans over your way coming to almost ear level with you his voice lowering "did you like that?" your cheeks began heating, after silently thanking god for being black, you turn your head just to find him staring at you. The two of you make intense eye contact which causes your breathing to hitch.

for a slight moment it only felt like you and him like everything else had faded into nothing.

your eyes switches between his and his lips before finally leaning in and just as you were about to place your lips on his he lifts his head away from you, smiling showing you the shiny grills that matches with his earrings. you furrow your eyebrows is there something you did wrong? Duke turns his head in front of him and as your eyes follow his gaze you see Davo running back over to us

the entire time you were at the fair you were trying your best to make it look like you didn't want to straight pounce on him. Duke had known what you wanted but he utterly underestimated how bad you wanted it. the he realization kicked in when the 3 of you had stopped to take a bathroom break miraculously he had came out before Davo which gave you two just a tiny amount of alone time.

"We gon hit up a couple more games and then we'll l- baby?" he watched as your head lifted to meet his eyes "yes?" This is when he finally gets a good look at you, your edges had begun to sweat out and your hair was frizzy but the actual lace of your green and black wig was oddly perfectly fine makeup slightly starting to wear off "you that horny?" his eyebrows scrunch in confusion, did seeing him ride a mechanical bull really turn you on that bad?

He seen that his comment had you taken aback by the way your eyes grow wide and your breathing accelerated but before you could answer anything Davo came back....again

when the two of you made it safely back home you made sure to tell kai to not bother you tonight and (and that you were sorry for what he was about to hear) Duke walked in first bee lining straight to his gaming chair. you walked in, locking the door, and what you found waiting behind you was honestly a sight for sore eyes. your turned around to see your boyfriend, man spreading and eyes low and red from tiredness you silently watch as he scoots his pelvis forward legs spreading even wider.

------

"Unh, unh, shitttt" he groans once again, he was close, you could tell by the way his hand was reaching down to your wig. he grabbed a fistfull before using his strength to bob your head up and around his length, producing lewd sounds as you bring your hand up to his thigh as his pace gets faster "baby i'm- fuck. i'm almost there" this only causes you to moan which sends vibrations along his tip as he pull you up only to slam you back down, tears began to trickle down to your cheeks, and soon you felt his grip loosen.

you went down on him once more before opening your mouth, you stick out your toungue, licking his heavy balls, immediately you feel Duke shoot his seed down your throat. slowly easing your mouth off him you raise your head and look him in the eye as you slowly swallow, bringing your thumb up to your mouth catching anything that dare to spill out, and push your thumb back inside your mouth.

----

you're ass up face down Duke is behind you teasing your entrance his rough fingers tips having a firm hold on your hips. "mmnh- please fuck me" you let out a small moan as his tip slowly works its way in only to pull out in the matter of seconds, this man knew what he was doing and you were starting to get sexually frustrated.

Duke leans down deepening your arch to whisper in your ear "i was gonna make you wait a little longer... but since you asked so nicely" out of nowhere he starts to absolutely annihilate your pussy. Roughly pulling your hips to meet his as you grip the sheets below you grunts spilling form his mouth and moans coming form yours his pace was fast, but as good as this felt you wanted him to fuck you differently this time. "fuck- babe stop." you reach your hand behind you to place it on top of his. Duke starts to slow down "what's wrong?" his forehead wrinkles with concern and frustration.

but all of that soon washes away when he hears the next sentence that comes out your filthy mouth "fuck me how you was doing that bull" a smile creeps up on to his face "oh so that's what this about?" his 1937 laugh booms in your ear. laughing? he's laughing? after all that torture he's put you through and he's laughing? see this is why you shouldn't of said shit. cause now he's making fun of you. as a matter of fact you should just leave his ass by himself to finish own his own. you had a pink dildo in your dresser that you could-

"mhhhhh shitt" a loud pornographic moan escapes your mouth Duke shoves his whole dick inside you only to grind lightly just like he was doing that fucking bull except you actually felt it. his right hand crosses over to caress your hip bone his left hand moves up to your head and starts to vandalize your curls your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, hands are tangled into the sheets, and your arch deepens once more

"that's it? that's the spot huh?" he lifts your head up as he leans down to make eye contact with you. "right- shit here?"

you moan out loudly it just felt so good. you weren't even able to form a proper sentence Duke had known he found it by the way you clenched around him at the end of each thrust. you could feel the curve abuse your cervix. this. this was different you could feel him, feel every vein, feel how hard he was, and the softness of his skin and he picks up the pace continuously rolling the curve against that sensitive spot inside you, duke groaned everyone your hips met his.

your pussy was sucking him in further into you, Duke kept going harder and harder ramming his length balls deep into you, all while rolling his hips up into that spongy spot inside of you. listening to all of the clapping and moans helped a tight knot form in your stomach.

"fuck just like that mama" his eyebrows crease, you just were so tight squeezing the hell out of him as his balls slap against your clit. Duke was just about ready to bust when you start to bounce your ass back on him. he loved this part of backshots, whenever you start to fuck back onto him it made him feel so good. he grew harder at the fact that you could take all of him. especially in this position.

he surprisingly moans when he looks down to see your pussy creating a white ring around the base of his cock "s-shit" he somehow goes even faster mercilessly abusing your cervix you were almost there and he was too you felt his thrust get sloppy, his grunts and moans increasing.

he the hand in your hair moves down to rub tight but slow circles around your clit bringing you the sweet release you've been waiting so long for. "fuckfuckfuck- fuckkk" you threw your head back in ecstasy squeezing him so tight that he legit couldn't move. you hear him let out one last groan as you go limp and milk him dry.

after staying in the same position for a while he finally pulls out collapsing next to you. grabbing the comforter you pull it over your body's resting your head on his chest as his arm comes to wrap around you.

"kai is gonna kill me"

[arachine]

my eyes r rolling omffff waht is wrong w u and how r u so talented! it’s not fair 🙏 but anyway i can’t stop thinking about more stepbro!neteyam and how you’re going through heat and he helps you out

claiming 🫘 if it’s not taken 😁

— sinful desires !

+ pairings :: step!bro neteyam x female na’vi!reader 

+ genre :: mature

+ general tags :: 18+ (explicit sexual content, explicit language)

+ content warnings :: characters aged up (20), dark content, pseudo-cest, reader gets her heat, corruption, dacryphilia, vaginal sex, f/m ejaculation...not proofread

+ note :: hi nonnie bb! wrote this as a thirst…went a little overboard hehe :3 + not my usual format ;( bc i wrote this before going to the dining hall LOL! but yeah, this is just smth light before i get started on my actual WIPS.

“c’mon, don’t look at me like that,” he thumbs your cheek, tilting his head with an avian flutter of his lashes. neteyam could be so…generous. always too eager to help—too eager to make everybody’s problems, his problems.

right now he had you splayed out in a clearing, one hand holding his weighty cock, and the other holding the back of your thigh. you’ve been in this position for a while, all heavy breaths and squirms, physically (and mentally) fighting the urge to relinquish your body to him—to let him you.

you always pictured your first heat going a lot smoother than this. that when the time came, you’d be prepared and mated—but you were neither. so, one could only imagine the moral dilemma that arises when you’re forced to choose between two (very bad) options: 1) doing nothing and ultimately succumbing to the pain, and 2) fucking the only guy who conveniently happened to be within proximity.

the latter was obviously, not something you would’ve chosen for yourself—but the pain was excruciating—debilitating, and your current location wasn’t giving you much room for choice.

“look, you can stay here and suffer, bound to the forest soil, or you can let me help you,” the boy slides the weeping tip of his cock over your exposed folds, “which one sounds better? wallowing in pain or big brother helping you, hm?”

the tail of his query is accompanied with a prod to your hole, and you whimper in response, arching up to grasp at his chest. neteyam finds amusement in this, chuckles under his breath and gets real low on top of you.

“c’mon, baby, say it. tell me with your words. not gonna make you do something you don’t want to do,” and with that he’s lifting your chin up, using the pad of his loitering thumb to swipe away crystalline droplets.

you nod your head slowly. first once, then twice, lifting your hips up to meet him halfway. he takes your silent acquiescence as an invitation to glide into you. and, fuck, it’s so easy…fits right in like a glove. overwhelmingly wet and warm, a terrible combination that scares him.

you’re trouble, he thinks. because he knows that after he fucks you, gives you what you want—he’ll only want more. and that hunger will only grow, it’ll fester and fester, until the only way he can get off is with you. and that couldn’t happen, no—because this was only supposed to be a one time thing.

what would the people think of their future olo’eyktan messing around with his little sister? surely, they’d denounce his claim and deem him unfit to lead, right? and what would your parents think? they’d probably disown the both of you, or worse, disown you. and that’s the last thing he wants—to ruin you.

which is why this has to be the first time and the last time.

“‘teyam make me feel good please!” you clasp your hands behind his neck, forcing him to lay atop of you, “wan’ it to stop hurting…please, just…help me.”

there’s a flicker in your eyes when you say it, and he likes it. makes his spine tingle and his pupils dilate. because he wants to hear you do it again.

“you want me to make you feel good, huh?” a slow, drawn out thrust, “want big brother to make it feel better here?” he unsheathes himself from your gummy cunt and taps the top of your mound with the weight of his length.

“mhm, need you now, ‘teyam. please, hurry!” of all the years he’s known you, he’s never known you to be a beggar. the sheer desperation in your voice alone was enough to make him forgo all of his disciplines.

without pause, he guides his mushroomy head back to your leaking hole, and pushes himself all the way in until the fat of his balls is plush against your ass.

its’s so swift, the way he completely takes charge, like he’s done this before—like he’s been inside of you. your body was foreign to him, a stranger, and yet, it wasn’t. and he convinces himself as much because of the way you’re responding to him.

you are putty under his touch, and every moan, grab, clutch, and clench only confirms this.

faster, deeper—harder, you preen. and he obeys. does it when you command it, and doesn’t ease up. it’s almost unreal, the way the two of you are moving in perfect synchrony. like you’re liquified metal, melding together to form one.

“shit, feel you clenching. are you close, baby?” he syncopates each word with a harsh thrust, letting his weight distribute to one arm as he encases the side of your head. you nod eagerly, mumbling a string of expletives, followed after a series of strangled cries.

“f-feel it coming, don’t stop.” you’re so close, so, so, so close to that sweet release that you’ve been chasing after since it happened, and you’ll be damned if you don’t get it.

unconsciously, you wrap your legs tighter around his torso, and pull him down by the neck until his face is mere centimeters away from yours. you’re close—too close. so close that if he were to dip his head down just slightly, he’d kiss you.

your eyes flit to his lips, to his eyes, and then back to his lips. calling. beckoning. pleading.

kiss me, is what he thinks they’re saying. but he’s scared it’s too…intimate. a kiss would solidify things—feelings—and he didn’t have the mental fortitude to come to terms with that just yet.

this was supposed to be something he did to help you, he reminds himself. he was just doing you a favor, because that’s what brothers did, right? just a favor. nothing more, nothing less.

but eyes stare back into eyes, and breaths intertwine with breaths, and shit, he’s a weak man. this was another deadly combination that could only be blamed by the forced proximity. damn this.

he presses his lips to your own, harsh and heavy, leaving no room for anything. no room for hesitation—air—not even for protest. and when you kiss him back with just as much want, just as much need? he’s melting into your touch, ramming into you with such unbridled velocity, that you don’t even register the accidental love bite you gave his lip.

he works through it though, licks the blood up and continues his assault on your cunt. lays thrust after thrust until your body falls lax in his hold and your thighs clench shut around him.

“that’s it, sweet girl,” he coos, “go ahead, give it all to me.” with the encouragement of his sweet words, you come undone all over his cock, with his own release not too far behind.

“fuckfuckfuck, where you want it?” he grunts out through broken moans.

“inside, do it inside!” you sob, grabbing for his neck once more, pulling him down to your chest. you help to draw his release out by moving your hips in unison with his, holding yourself up on your forearms as he sheathes himself in and out of you at a dizzying pace.

with a final piston, he finishes inside of you. the two of you stall in the air briefly before he gently lowers you down onto your back, him following soon after to lay on your breasts.

when his breaths even, and the bioluminescent plants begin to glow, he unsheathes himself from inside you and sits back on his knees. you look so pretty, he thinks. with his spent seeping from your hole, and your skin all slick with sweat.

“this can never…” you breathe, chest still heaving and breaths ragged, “never, ever happen again.”

a beat. he doesn’t answer. and you repeat yourself, only this time, with more power behind your tone.

“hey, this can never happen again. got it?”

he can only manage to give you a nod, but he doesn’t give you his word.

because this? this wouldn’t be the last time. he was going to be selfish, and if that meant ruining you for anyone else in the clan—if that meant keeping you from finding a potential mate, he’d just have to ruin you.

© arachine 2023

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

A SWEET TREAT- STUCKY

Pairing: Roomates! Stucky x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: while eating the best ice cream you’ve ever tasted, you teasingly confess to your roomates you’d let ben and jerry do anything they wanted to you. the next time you open the freezer, their names have been crossed out, and replaced with bucky and steves. be prepared for a treat much sweeter than ice cream...

Warnings: SMUT, threesum, blowjob, praise kink, degradation kink, petnames, masturbation mentioned, finger sucking & gagging, sub space, size kink/ belly bulge, small daddy kink, swearing, teasing, bucky speaking russian bc oh my god that needs its own warning

Notes: in honour of summer being near, i made this while eating some BOMB ass ice cream! if ur lactose intolerant, you arent in this fic, hop on the dairy train bb;)

As Steve dug in his pocket, pulling out the apartment key that jangled with the little heart-shaped keychain you had made him, he was not expecting to hear a loud moan come from the other side of the door. 

It made him stop in his tracks, key halfway in the lock as he froze, eyes widening. 

It was your moan. 

He could recognise that sweet, high-pitched whine anywhere. 

Whenever you thought he and Bucky were asleep, he could hear you moan into your pillow through the paper-thin walls, hand between your legs at an odd hour of the night. He never told you could hear you, knowing you’d be too embarrassed to do anything in the apartment again. 

And that wouldn't work for Steve.

 He craved those sweet noises like a drug, often slipping his hand down to stroke his cock in rhythm with your moans. 

But it wasn't very late, and it wasn't far enough to be in the comfort of your bedroom. Was Bucky fucking you? He and Bucky had discussed it many times, often fantasying over you together, talking about every little way they’d fuck your gorgeous body, but was he seriously doing without him? 

The thought of Bucky touching your pretty little body without him present had him slamming open the door at an alarming speed, handle banging into the wall hard enough to scratch the paint. 

You jumped from the sound, stumbling back into the fridge with your ice cream in hand. Steve looked at you with a wild look in his eye, appearing to be searching for Bucky. 

“Could you slam the door open any harder Stevie? The wall told me earlier today it wanted a massive hole in it.” you grumbled, attempting to catch your breath from the scare. Clutching the carton of ice cream tightly, you padded over to the couch just as Bucky stepped out from his room, hair still wet and dripping from his shower. 

You gulped at the sight of his bare chest, abs gleaming in pretty shades of pink as the sunset spiled in through the windows. Sweatpants were slung low on his hips, a look of confusion on his face as he noted Steve shaking his head, shutting the door behind him as he slung off his shoes. 

“You okay punk?” he asked softly, making his way to you on the couch, sliding your bare legs across his lap, watching with delight as the oversized shirt you wore of Steve’s slid up to reveal your thighs. 

“Mhmm. Thought I heard something, that's all.” 

You stopped mid-bite, realization hitting you like a freight train. Turning to face him, you quickly grabbed a pillow, throwing it with all your might at the blonde. 

“Steven Grant Rogers! You came bursting through that door because you heard me moan?! You pervert!” you shrieked, making Bucky howl with laughter. “Hey you said it!” he grinned, grabbing the pillow and throwing it on the chair. 

“You boys are gross. Let me enjoy my ice cream in peace.” you sighed, adjusting yourself so that Steve could sit with you and Bucky on the couch, resting your head on his knee. “Go ahead bunny. Stevie won't bother you anymore.” he grinned, eyes filled with delight as he raised his eyebrow at the blonde, patting your calf gently.

 “Better not.” you grumbled, scooping out a chunk of cookie dough from the ice cream. “I’m not that gross. Just sometimes.” Steve smiled, his hand coming down to stroke your hair, watching your face confront in pleasure as you chewed the cookie dough.

 “All guys are gross, you all got cooties.” you grumbled, mouth full, as you rolled your eyes. A little smack on your thigh made you yelp, Bucky's hand rubbing over the bare flesh where he hit you lightly. 

“You take that back bunny!” he laughed, watching you attempting to kick his arm, with no success. “Never. Never ever.” you smiled, spooning more ice cream into your mouth. 

The chocolate flavors melted on your tongue, the traces of brownie and cookie dough still lingering as you swallowed. “This is genuinely the best thing I’ve ever had in my entire life. Oh my god, I would let the people who made this do whatever they wanted to me.” you moaned, purring in delight as Steve’s fingers began to comb through your silky strands, scratching your scalp gently. 

“Anything?” Bucky asked, eyebrow raised as he looked over at Steve. 

“Anything.” you replied, too lost in the ice cream and the feelings of Bucky's hand stroking your soft skin to notice the look of amusement on each of their faces, wicked grins and winks being exchanged back and forth. 

“I’m gonna hold that against you dolly.” Steve sang, making you laugh. 

Oh, you were in for a treat. One much sweeter than that ice cream indeed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Didn’t I say I’d hold those words against you honey?” Steve asked softly, gripping your chin so you were forced to look into his baby blue eyes, the mock pity etched on his face as Bucky pounded into you from behind. 

You were much too gone to speak, the snarky, quick-witted reply you had so desperately wanted to say back stuck in your throat. Only a low whimper had left your lips that were now shaped in an O-shape, eyes widened to saucers as Bucky gripped your hips even tighter. 

Although you were at a loss for words now, you were beyond thankful you weren't on that couch, spilling your guts about every little position you’d let the ice cream company hit, teasingly. 

The next time you had opened that same freezer, spoon in hand as you reached for your little carton, you froze.

 No longer was it Ben and Jerry’s, but Bucky and Steve's name written in black sharpie. 

“Oh my god, I would let the people who made this do whatever they wanted to me.” “Anything?” “Anything.” 

You had shut the freezer with a soft slam, surprise written all over your face as Bucky and Steve strolled into the kitchen, grins evident on their faces as your arms limply fell to your sides. 

That was how you had ended up here, in this position, one of many you had spilled to the boys. Bucky pounding into you from behind, Steve's hands teasing you until you cried. 

“There's no point in talkin to her punk she's a goner.” Bucky chuckled, his thrusts making you cry out, your eyes beginning to glaze over from the stimulation he was giving you. 

He growled as you clenched around him, your toes curling from the way his cock prodded your g-spot, the way you could feel him bulging through your belly. 

“Oh don’t be so rough with our doll Buck. She’s just a lil thing compared to us.” Steve warned, the bulging veins from the back of his hand stroking your cheek lightly as you inched forward with every one of Bucky's ministrations. 

“S’tight I can’t help it.” he growled roughly, arm slipping under your stomach as your now shaking legs were unable to keep you up on all fours. “I gotcha bunny you just keep your eyes on Steve okay? Don’t want you passing out on us just yet.” he winked, laughing at your little ahs you let out with each movement. 

“Stevie…” you trailed off in a daze, head becoming light and cloudy as you stared at the smiling man in front of you. “Yes honey I’m right here. Open up okay sweet girl?” 

You nodded slowly, mouth opening wider as he slipped his two fingers inside, your tongue swirling around his digits with a strangled moan. “Ohhh she likes that. Keep doin that punk.” Bucky moaned, feeling you clench tighter around him the further back Steve's fingers went. 

Suddenly, his large fingers hit the back of your throat, making you cry out as you choked around him. “Shhh, I’m preparing you sweetheart. Something someone should have done before they started rutting into you like a bitch in heat.” Steve narrowed his eyes up on Bucky, in to which Bucky just shrugged as if to say oh well. 

You whined as he slid his fingers out, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking your saliva clean off them with a boyish grin.

 “Okay doll you ready?” he asked gently, beginning to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. The same hair he was stroking and playing with, so innocently as you ate your ice cream. 

Oh how the table have turned indeed. 

“Course she's ready, little bunny wants to be filled from both ends.” Bucky smirked, thrusting into hard and rough as you nodded in agreement, staring up at Steve as he now towered over you. “Is that right baby?” 

“Yes daddy.” you whispered hoarsely, sticking your tongue out in obedience. 

“Oh fuck…” Steve moaned, bringing his hard, aching cock to your lips. You lapped at the precum that coated the tip, moaning as he yanked your hair so you were forced to meet his eyes. 

“Eyes on me. Got it?” 

You nodded, purely dumbfounded. A sharp thrust from behind had you keening, and you wrapped your lips around Steve's cock, hollowing your cheeks as you took him down your throat. 

Fresh tears stained your flushed cheeks as Bucky slapped your ass harshly, Steve’s control of your head making you take him deeper and deeper. You moaned, the vibrations around his cock making him growl as he began to fuck your throat in perfect harmony with Bucky. 

The sight of Steve's head thrown back in pleasure, his adams apple bobbing as you pleasured him made your core tingle, flames licking down your spine as you felt release in an arms reach. 

“такой милый кролик…” Bucky moaned, his own orgasm approaching as you gripped him tightly. “Buck she's gonna cum.” Steve whispered, frantic eyes meeting your own, your tears and hiccups turning them on even more. 

“I know… can feel her squeezin the life outta me.” he replied with a grunt. “Let go, sweetheart, we’re right here with you.” Steve cooed softly. 

Those were the words you needed to hear. 

The coil in your belly snapped, your vision turning white as you came all over Bucky's cock. The sensations were overwhelming, each muscle, bone and blood cell consumed with pure pleasure as the men continued to use you, riding you through your orgasm. 

“Oh godddd-” Bucky moaned, hips stilling as he spilled inside you, his cream coating your spongy walls as you shook from under him. Steve followed suit, his cum trickling down your throat, the taste bitter yet sweet as you swallowed every last drop he gave you, his sweet praises encouraging you to lick him clean.

 “Such a good girl sweetheart, we’re so proud of you.” he smiled, slowly pulling his cock out of your mouth, watching you sputter for breath. 

“You are?” you croaked, sniffling as your arms could no longer support you either. “Yes bunny we’re so proud of you. But we’re not done just yet.” Bucky smiled, his hands slowly guiding you upwards on your knees, his cock still firmly inside your weeping hole. 

The look he gave Steve had you whimpering, the light in his eye meaning there could only be trouble brewing in that filthy mind of his. 

“Switch Stevie?”

[1-49]

The top 7 things you don’t want to be doing when in Paris.

Imagine,

the brightest, most perfect winter’s day imaginable. Crisp, chilly, and beautiful. Warm cafés, busy streets, and gentle breezes ──── stellar architecture, metros, and museums. If anything, Paris is the most magical place on earth, but having Sungchan there makes it even more so.

That being said,

here is a list of the Top 8 things and situations to look out for, & don’t indulge in when you are in Paris if you don’t want to fall in love. A doomed guide for both tourists and locals, eh.

tags: fluff, love, sure it carries its angst though ⁝ fun concept to approach given i wasn’t going to write a fic nor it fits exactly into headcanon, so yeah. he has made me dizzy with his paris photos im sooo sorry. wc. 3k

Fan fact: The French term ‘Coup de foudre’ describes when someone feels completely blown away by someone they have recently met. In literal terms, it means lightning strike. If you have been ‘struck by lightning’ in this way, a common feeling is that you can tell the person everything bc they just get you

Good luck!

THE CRASH

A stunning stranger seated a short distance away from you in a small cafe is always a threat—but this is not just any stunning stranger. As you converse with your friend, he’s also conversing with his group of friends. Passing phones and a camera make their giggles sound like a good time. 

Every chance you get, you glance at him while speaking with your friend because it’s so tempting to do so. Little sparks shoot out the moment the stare is returned; when your gazes meet halfway; when he’s caught, too, for naively trying to get your attention.

When your friend catches on to the fact that you’re looking at what is behind her rather than her.

When she turns around to reinvestigate the situation and notices that he’s staring in your direction, she instantly understands.

When she gives him a smile and turns back to face you, who moved too slowly to stop her.

The stranger which then believes that you both had a conversation about him.

The friend who first exposed you is also the one who is now pushing you to use the restroom; for if he meets you halfway again, chances are good he’s into you too.

Her point is validated when you find yourself in a small hallway, pretending to scroll through your phone, as he moves toward you.

Scents of rich vanilla, chocolate, coffee, and wine fill the dimly lit secluded part of the café, which has burgundy walls. His physique is too large to fit in the narrow hallway. His eyes and smile translate love. His confession is full of tenderness, affection, & promising good times.

THE ‘NO’ PLAN

It’s already outside of your plan to plan the remainder of your day. Order breaks out. Chaos ensues. What was already set in motion was interrupted by him, a tourist named Sungchan. But a Paris show-off won’t be a show-off without a museum, so there goes that theory. 

In any case, a museum or art gallery is a must, so thirty minutes later, you are showing him around one of the many museums. The grand rooms echo with silence as you hope that the angels are praying for you to make it to the end of the tour. It’s simply so overwhelming to be next to such beauty. You can’t stop thinking how much he fits the scene. 

The line of his nose; his lips; the shadows of his collarbones; the wrinkles of his smile; the flow of your hair; the trickle of his laugh—for all of these, he is worthy of a museum.

So when you finally get your hands on the previously ‘passed-around’ camera, an exhibit of blue curiosities rests on his shoulders. Quickly, you take some pictures of him with the Rothko piece. It’s impossible to determine which is more beautiful—him or the artwork. 

There are repercussions for that, as he leads you to allow him to take a picture of you—his ulterior motive, though, to have a picture of you forever. You’ll be with him no matter what, even after he leaves this city and you behind.

JUST TOURISTY THINGS

Time will separate the two of you, just as a river divides Paris, but as you continue to stroll beside the Seine, where musicians sing of hopeless love and painters craft their works in the open, the issue of time is not a priority. If anything, all the time in the world at this moment is yours.

He grabs your hands and spins the two of you around, his hair brushed with sun-kissed shades of cinnamon brown. Claiming he isn’t immune to music, so you can’t be critical and should just follow his example.

But when the spinning becomes too intense and he feels lightheaded, he tries to steady himself by staring into your eyes for longer than he should. Your proximity scares you, but you’re concerned and ask if he’s okay. 

A smile appears on his face as a result of your concern for him, while a heavenly presence is tipping from his eyes as he’s making a promise that he’s good, if not better than ever.

A smile that inspires hope & makes you believe. A smile that undoubtedly had great power to bring you both to this point. He’s beautiful in every sense. Mentality, personalty, appearance.

He’s even surpassing the Eiffel Tower in terms of beauty with ease!

Your captured images, with him as the subject, create the most ideal postcards, and as you’re showing them to him, it’s when a feeling of sad nostalgia envelops you prior to even parting ways with him. You come to the realization that you desire to spend more time with him, not just one day.

But all you get is one day... 

A magic day... that is gradually starting to turn into a night—and as the two of you walk on the fresh-washed gravel paths through the Luxembourg Gardens, the wind becomes clearer and sharper.

Even the bare trees, which you’re used to seeing against the sky, seem to be feeling the warmth of his touch as he insists on pushing and spreading his fingers inside your palm. His vibrance makes even the leafless trees feel less lonely. He takes your hand in such a way that you aren’t even allowed to give him a warning look. Hand in hand, you have no choice but to chase after him.

NO DESTINATION BACK UP

Does it even matter that he doesn’t know the city? 

The ecstasy you are running on is surley telling you that it’s all about getting lost and  discovering yourself in unfamiliar places—and that’s all because of him.

The startled look in this stranger’s eyes as you two nearly cross a street at a red light due to his rushing… 

As he begins to apologize while biting his lower lip, claiming he didn’t mean to. 

His deer-eyes in the headlights are all that you can focus on really. It’s tempting to say, ‘It’s okay,’ but there is something about his apologetic expression that makes you feel as though he’s completely enclosing you in his gaze. 

His eyes are hugging you while he apologizes. It has been a long time since you felt something like that—felt completely safe. Sincerely, and risk-free. He’s a walking green light. So then, it’s a bit sadistic of you to wish for his apology to last longer. 

But how can you not?

When his hand squeezes yours even harder, and he turns all starry eyes while biting his lip in fear?

Someone you would definitely want to try and fit into your pocket, regardless of his height or width.

CRAMPED SPACES

When the cruelness of the night finally reaches your bones, chasing a tiny, romantic restaurant is the only way to soothe the cold.

The warmth of the atmosphere meshes with his gray cardigan, and you find yourself moving more and more into his comfort zone due to the crowded space, where many are seeking refuge for the same reason as you two. 

His rich scent fills the air around you and his knees keep touching yours due to the close proximity. The wine glass dangles in his hand and his lips become more and more affected, picking up a cherry hue.

His collarbones exhibit every movement of his body, and for whatever reason, you feel an insatiable urge to reach for the soft, grey wool and uncover more.

You’re so invested in this delicate area it’s making you feel absolutely irrational. The constant spreading of his hand through his lush hair and pushing it behind is only adding to your obsession. Regardless of how often he does this, the silky hair flies back into his eyes every time.

He has this habit of dipping his small fork into your chocolate mousse, taking a bite, then flirting while he listens to you talk and plays with the fork, letting the sharp tips sink into his soft lips.

The gesture merely begs for your attention, so in order to stay true to yourself, you greet him by clinking glasses with him. But as soon as his glass touches yours, you have to look him in the eyes again and be so sincere... You lose either way.

This gorgeous person’s natural flirtatious charm can’t be escaped. His focus shifting between your lips and eyes as he attentively listens to you is quite possibly the hottest thing about him. 

And although he insists on practising some French words, he continually mispronounces ‘croissants’ and ‘creme brulee’. He got ‘Bonjour’, ‘Bonsoir’, and ‘baguette’ right, which is worthy of notice; and the greatest reward would be a peck on the cheek, which he hasn’t yet received...

The fork remains sunk in his lips. If there’s one dessert that can be described as the ‘most scrumptious’, it’s him.

UNDERGROUND MISHAPS

Running with him in hand is a somewhat exciting experience. You aren’t sure where he got his stamina, but you’re sprinting down the stairs and will have some downtime when you two board the next metro.

When you reach underground platform though, a sea of tourists waits impatiently to go home or explore the outside world.

His hand carefully slides around your waist as you wait, standing side by side, your chests exploding from all the running. Whether it’s to protect you or keep you to himself, the intent is unclear.

And just as you’re about to look up to give him another warning glance, you realize that you’ve already forgotten how many there were. His adorable facial expressions are the reason you never succeed.

Obviously, the wine has increased his energy—his feelings are in his eyes. 

His features quickly and suddenly take on an emotive tone. A line appears between his brows and a hint of melancholy on his face as recognition dawns. Maybe the effects of the end of the day are finally starting to catch up with him.

You realize that he’s a lot of fun—the type of person who always sees the glass half full but who is also, presumably, grounded enough to realize that something is in the way and the glass isn’t quite enough full. Though he’ll eventually have to face it... saying goodbye to you is probably the biggest treat.

His hand is trembling inside yours...

... whether from anger, sadness, or excitement, it can be all of them or then

“Sungchan,”

You barely have time to finish what you started before he pulls you in and gives you a hug. Metros, come and go. People are walking past you, but he freezes this moment.

His coat’s lapels seem kind enough to part away, giving you more personal space and allowing your ear to fall directly on his heart.

His hand falls effortlessly over your head, as soft as a snowflake as he says, “It’d ruin everything if we said anything. Let’s not.” He carasses your hair and then plants a kiss.

A hug so strong that it keeps you safe from the passing of time. 

However, even this beam of sunshine has a heart, and it rains. Not even he has the complete ability to stop time from passing. The earth orbits, and the leaves dissipate.

Though what he can do is, 

he can certainly seize some of the light in the circumstance as he pulls on your hand once more, making the promise of, “Trust me.”

FALLING IN LOVE

There is definitely a sense of a ‘Trust me’ irony in the situation however, about how you won’t fall in love with him.

He seems to be pointing you in the direction of the photo booth at the end of the platform, which he noticed while your bodies were merging together. 

You’re fairly certain that those will be your favourite, worst-ever photos of the two of you, but the only memory you can physically hug, so you decide not to argue.

Naturally, the cubicle is small, but what do you expect from a metro photo booth?

The sweet giant battles his height and shoulders to enter, and when he does, he just hovers above you, looking down. His palms pressed against two different walls, and his neck bent at an awkward angle because you have taken all the ‘what can hardly be called a’ seat. 

Like it is your fault, right?

With a tongue poke to his cheek and raised brows, he’s subtly advising you to do ‘this one thing.’

Like hell, “I’m not sitting in your lap,” you bat your eyelashes at him. 

“It’s too late to back out. Plus, I don’t think there’s any other way to make this work.”

The goofy grin morphs his whole face into what it would be to stand under the sun; his cheeks rise higher the more he shows teeth. He’s so cute. It melts your heart.

Your mouth stays open in shock as you say, “But it is you who wanted this,” before you endearingly defend yourself. “This was your idea.” How very ‘trust me’ of him. In the end, you accept. “Okay, fine,” you sulk while pouting.

Satisfied, he clicks his tongue. You both knew that you would accept; you just wanted to have some fun, didn’t you?

You eventually create room for him to sit, but when it comes time for you to sit, you hesitate. But then you feel his hands dragging your waist down, and the next thing you know, you’re in his lap. He has lost all patience.

You sigh with annoyance, but even you know it is all a front. 

Now hesitant to move, your back remains pressed against his chest, and you’re even halfway there trying to maintain your balance on your feet instead of lounging comfortably in his lap. However, his back hug is particularly effective because it feels like his palm is pressing deeper into your tummy, encouraging you to relax even more into him.

His thighs radiate unnecessary heat, and his warm breath tickles the side of your neck as his chin rests on your shoulder. He teases you, whispering, “You can face me you know, I don’t bite.”

There is an absolute anarchy, there beneath his palm, in your belly. Not the whispering tone!! 

You tilt your head back (ironically, letting it rest where his shoulder and neck meet), gazing at the near ceiling and mentally calculating the number of seconds until you lose your mind.

He rests with you, for a minute, or two… his heart densely kicking in your back, but you swear it’s a peaceful moment. He’s able to magically stop the flow of time, no matter what!

Perhaps outside of the small world that you two inhabit, the metro passes by for the fifth time, and perhaps the waiting area is swept by cleaners once more while your shoes peek out from under the curtain, threatening to blow your cover.

However, time never really stops—especially in this place, the City of Light, Paris, a city that never sleeps.

“Let—um” His voice cracks for the first time before he finally says, “Uh—Let us take those pictures.”

You shut your eyes, allowing the angst of the situation to have its way with you before turning to face him.

His brows appear flat, and the crack between them is even deeper than it used to be. Even his lips are fuller than they used to be. Or could it simply be the face-to-face intimacy that is causing them to appear in such a way?

All this time, you thought it was just a playful lust, an undeniable attraction, when, in fact, what you’re finding is love—love looking straight into your eyes.

You no longer need to hold it within you. You just admit it, completely aware that nothing will change but that it will undoubtedly have some significance because it’s better to let things out than to hold them inside.

“Sungchan,” you pause for a moment, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Like you haven’t already felt them, he takes your hand and puts it over his heart, allowing you to feel the butterflies surging through his chest. Your lips to your eyes is the route he prefers to travel most. “I don’t want to leave either,” he admits voice light and airy.

As you look at him, every time the photo booth camera flashes a bright light, the butterflies burst rhythmically—because of that, and as much at the magic, and at the calculated touch of a girl who, in the past, had learned to trust no one. Yet, here you are, choosing to trust someone you have just met & won’t see again.

Your hands tremble against his cheeks as you gently cup his face and begin your slow, careful inspection. His tense muscles slowly relax under your touch as you run a finger across the peak of his eyebrow.

You feel an influx of emotions as you begin to understand that this person is an angel. You’re tracing every inch of him into your brain—soaking up every star in his eyes and every mole on his face—because an angel like this can never be met twice...

His greatest quality, you think, even in this kind of ‘damned’ situation, is that he can’t stay serious; a smile lights up his face. The only word that adequately expresses how you feel is wanting to ‘devour’ the damned smile that lingers close to your lips. He’s irresistible.

Cute or sexy are terms that are so confusing with him. You aren’t sure to which he’s supposed to be leaning towards. It’s driving you crazy. He simply can not be defined.

And the more he holds you, the more confident he gets. He started off politely, treating you like a paper bird, and then he abruptly stops apologizing. His lashes start to make out slowly with the narrow look he gives you. His thumb glides over your bottom lip. There is only one meaning to it.

Conversely, the photos taken are sitting in the photo outlet. You whisper, “Sungchan,” gesturing to the pictures and apparently indicating that ‘your work here is done.’ 

His firm grip on your jaw, however, fiercely brings your face into his. His winey breath is coating your lips.

“But,” you knit your brows, “our series of pho—”

His index finger stops your lips from moving mid-sentence. “Let’s make another one.”

“You—you’re getting too comfortable in this,” You stagger over what you are saying as his nose brushes against yours, “for-for well, for something that will never happen again.” 

“That’s exactly why I need those photos,” he says, chewing the inside of his cheeks in response to your somewhat insensitive comment.

“And we—And we,” you keep breaking, “We’ve been her—

“Can I kiss you?” He brutally cuts you off.

His sugary lower lip is already pressed against yours. It no longer interests him what you’re saying. It’s a quiet question, but there is some dangerously real intent behind it.

Yes, but can he beg for a kiss?

Sure,

as if he’s breathing in the air that he knows he’ll be missing out on, his lips remain waiting for a sign before they get messy.

His thumb ignites ‘instant fire’ in every pore on your cheek with each precise circle. It’s more like he is consuming you in advance. 

Your thoughts are numb, and your heart is stuck in your throat. You don’t want to forget any part of it all, and you’re bound to in the high you’re experiencing right now... He was right when he advised it to be documented.

The gaping mouths. The tender lip-stroking. The deep, slow breathing. The hot air exchange.

His teeth clenched in pain. The energy he surrounds you with is so intense.

Your “Fuck!”

& Sungchan’s “Please,”

occur simultaneously.

© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.

[yorshie]

Hi there 😊 I saw ur request opened and wanted to see if I could request reader having a nightmare and they call the turtles (or one of them) in the middle of the night bc they’re too panicked and they try to help calm them down maybe over the phone or go to their place to help! Sorry for the long ask haha Thank you!!

Hello Nonnie! I'm finally (slowly. so painfully slowly) cleaning out my ask box and replying lol. I went with Leo for this one, simply because when I started writing his name just kinda popped up naturally.

Bayverse Leonardo x GN Reader, SFW

The whir of the ceiling fan woke you up. 

It was usually a comforting sound, but now, with the press of adrenaline against your chest and the echoes of the dream clinging to your skin like a fine sheen of oil, the creak of the paddles spinning overhead read as a threat to your muddled mind. 

You pulled the covers back, feet finding the cold floor and bringing a new shiver that informed you of the layer of sweat behind your knees, at your elbows, making your shirt stick to your spine in crinkly ridges where you’d tossed through the dream. Your heartbeat pounded at your temples, your jaw, relentless as it told you you had to run, had to hide, had to go.

The clock on your bedside table read 3:14 am. Too early to get up, to eat food to soothe the latent fear still in your stomach. But superstition had you moving, padding into the kitchen to pull a tortilla from the package left on the counter. You rolled the piece of bread up and shoved it halfway into your mouth, stopping at the bathroom on your way back to the warmth of the bed. 

The reflection greeting you over the mirror after you did your business looked sane, looked normal. Nothing to indicate the nightmare still haunted you, still peered over your shoulder, just waiting for you to fall back to sleep. You didn’t feel the phantom clawed hands reaching for your shoulders until your back hit the mattress, tortilla still shoved in one cheek, and the spinning ceiling fan was there once more to greet you.

You squinted, watching the paddles in the low light from the window. The dream was starting to fade, but it lingered like the curling, tacky edges of the vinyl tabletops in an old diner. Waiting to leave just a little residual glue on your skin, to follow you around.

You glanced at the clock again, contemplated staying up until the sun rose and could blanket out the hushed magic of the early morning, when your eyes snagged on your phone, lying crooked and part way in the opened drawer where it usually charged.

Your fingers found the familiar edges, pulled it across the bed towards you. There was a new message, from Blue, about thirty minutes ago. The notification extended a lifeline, a buoy to hold onto while the frigid waters of the dream still lapped at your consciousness.

Your thumb tapped the screen, slid open the message. 

He was home from patrol, wanted to let you know everything was fine, that he and his brothers had gotten home safe. The balloon of unnamed fear deflated just a touch in your chest, the unknown fear in the heartbeat at your temples tripping up in its terror before lessening just a touch. Like a ship sighted in a storm, you stared at the little blue heart attached to the last message, a wish for you to sleep well.

Without thinking, you hit the call button, bringing the device to the cradle of your ear and shoulder. The rings stretched out in front of you, one after another. You could almost imagine the boat getting further away, the line of safety attached to the buoy growing taunt…

“Hello?” Leo’s voice, soft and questioning on your name, like a light cascading from the boat, finding you immediately in the dark. His voice was a halo of safety as the captain turned the rudder and you were pulled in.

“Leo?” You confirmed, childishly, knowing his voice, but needing the confirmation to yourself as much as to let him know you were there. “Sorry, I uh, saw your message… had a bit of a nightmare, wanted to talk to you if that’s ok?”

And because it was Leo, because he never really stopped worrying,  he answered immediately, tone dipping a bit as he used the voice that meant he was processing intel. “Of course, are you ok? Do you need to talk about it?”

The concern, him using the ‘leader’ voice on you, brought a reflexive smile to your face. If you asked him, he’d be there in ten minutes, you knew, regardless if he was technically supposed to or not. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I promise. I just… needed to hear your voice.”

Leo exhaled, the sound a little staticy over the line, and you could almost picture the relief sliding the concern off his shoulders. “Do you need me to come to you?”

Heart in your throat, you let yourself have the imagined fantasy. His shadow at your window, his scales pressed up against your skin, entangled in the too small bed with you. His hands running through your hair, simply existing for a moment. 

But with that fantasy came the little bubble of reality. The way he’d watch the horizon, the gaps between the buildings outside your window for the first flicker of light. Always on a timetable, like Cinderella and her pumpkin coach, on the lookout for the danger of traveling back to the Lair with the sun always encroaching.

Reeling in the selfish desire, you spoke low, just for him. “No, I’m ok, it’s almost four already.” You rolled the tortilla to the other cheek, took another bite.

Leo must have heard the sound, because he chuckled softly. “Do you have a tortilla stuffed in your mouth right now?”

“Grandma’s superstition wearing off on me, I’m afraid.” You told him, honest, not fearing judgment from the turtle you’d gladly call your best friend.

“I like her recipe you made last summer, with the peppers and cheese.” He admitted, and you heard his words echo just a touch when he placed you on speaker, followed by the rustle of clothes and a long sigh. You knew what he was doing, getting ready for bed, likely folding his pants. You could close your eyes and imagine yourself there with him, beside him in his bed, maybe back against his headboard while he laid on his plastron, one arm hooked around your waist and a pillow half over your lap for his head…

“I’ll make it for you again this weekend, if you’d like.” You offered, letting the imagined scenarios soothe you, letting the lull of Leonardo wash away the tacky residue of the dream. You breathed in deeply, listening to him hum low on the other end of the phone. 

“Deal.” Leo agreed, and you just knew he was smiling in the dark of his room. Maybe that little dimple at the corner of his mouth was showing, maybe…

“Are you falling asleep on me?” He asked, voice soft, so soft. 

You murmured dissent, but he still chuckled, breath hitting the receiver once more in a familiar way. “Take the tortilla out of your mouth at least, darling. Text me when you wake up, alright?”

You murmured agreement, swallowing the last bite of gummy flatbread thickly. The waves rocked you gently, a tide of Leo’s even breaths in your ear, the mantra of his lungs working as a leading drum for your heartbeat to slow to. 

Before you dropped off, comforted in the buoy of your mind tied to safety, Leonardo murmured over the phone, “Love you, sweetheart. Goodnight.”

[danikamariewrites]

can i please request a feysand x reader where they’re at the high lord meeting at the dawn court and tamlin runs his mouth. When he said ”have you ever noticed that little noise she makes when she climaxes” i was so disgusted by him. Literally ew. Could i pls request a drabble where reader punches him for it. She’s not dumb, she won’t do it in the middle of the meeting. She waits until he’s in a hallway and leaps on him and punches him. reader is newly mated to them so her protective instincts are running like crazy. all the things feyre and rhys told her tamlin did to them is blinding her with rage and she almost kills him bc obviously she’s the stonger one😎 PROTECTIVE READER IS GOATEDDDDD

You

Feysand x reader

A/n: I love protective reader

Warnings: violence

After that very exciting meeting you needed to blow off some steam. Tamlin’s words kept ringing in your mind. He might as well have called Feyre a whore. Rhys had to hold you back with his magic so you wouldn’t launch yourself at Tamlin.

At least Beron got what he deserved. You were so proud of Feyre for that display of power. It showed how wrong Ianthe and Tamlin were. You smiled to yourself as you aimlessly walked around.

The smile melted off your face as the scent of spring hot your nose. Anger flooded through your body as you saw Tamlin round the corner. You both stopped and stared at each other. “You,” you growled at him.

“Now y/n let’s be rash.” “Rash! You want me to think when you insulted my mates!” You rushed over to him and before Tamlin could react you had him pinned on the ground. Your knee was digging into his chest as you screamed bloody murder at the High Lord.

Your fist kept hitting his face over and over again. “How dare you?” Tamlin’s nose cracked under your fist. As you drew back to hit him again, your teeth bared at him, Tamlin caught your fist.

He squeezed your hand in a bone crushing grip. “Get. Off.” Tamlin flung you backwards and you slid halfway down the hall. You crouch and dive down into your power. The hall rumbles around you. Tamlin looked petrified. Good, you thought.

Before you could make another move Rhys and Cassian picked you up, Rhys pulled you to his chest and ran his fingers through your hair to calm you down. Thesan came running around the other corner helping Tamlin up.

The males were yelling at each other but you couldn’t hear anything. Your ears were ringing with the echoes of your power.

You closed your eyes and the next time you opened them you were back in your quarters with your mates. Feyre was in front of you cleaning Tamlin’s blood off your hands. You blinked confusingly at them before the memories of what happened came flooding back.

“I’m-I’m so sorry. He was just there and I was so mad at him.” Rhys cups your face in his hands. “Love, it’s ok. You were just defending your mates. The bond is so new that’s what we’re blaming it on, ok.” You nod at him.

Feyre places her hand on Rhys’s chest pushing him back. She takes your face in her hands now, leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “It’s not a big deal y/n. I love you so much.” You nod in agreement. “I love you too, both of you. I’m going to take a bath and then we’ll relax.” You kissed them both on their cheeks and headed for the bathroom.

[mlmxreader]

The Accidental Husband | Johnny Cage x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ okay but here me out...when johnny and all of them are chilling in that bar,,,Skarlet introduces his younger brother (m!reader) Johnny immediately starts flirting with him and m!reader admits that he’s a huge fan of his movies and they both get too drunk and wake up in a random hotel room with wedding rings on bc they got married while blackout drunk 😩 ❞

: ̗̀➛ your sister introduces you to a... friend of hers, although things go a little too well.

: ̗̀➛ heavy drinking/alcohol consumption, swearing, reader is adopted/not a blood relative to Skarlet

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

A long, long time ago, Skarlet had taken pity on a young boy who had no family; he was younger than she was, starving and scared. She wasn't sure what else to do with him, so she took the boy as her own brother; she helped raise him, and although he was never any good at Blood Magik, he showed promise elsewhere.

For years, it was just you and your sister, and when you were a little older, she allowed Liu Kang to introduce you to Kuai Liang; you showed promise within the Lin Kuei where you stayed. Skarlet visited as often as she could, despite the protests of the Grandmaster. It was there that you discovered Johnny Cage's films, and although some of them were absolutely awful, you would watch anything with him in it.

You were a huge fan, but you figured that it would be embarrassing to admit such a thing, especially to your own sister; she would never stop teasing you about it if she ever knew. So you kept it quiet.

You told Kuai Liang, only because he caught you skipping duties to watch one of Cage's new films; he just smiled and shook his head, telling you to crack on as soon as the film ended. Kuai Liang was always good to you like that; calm, reassuring, strong and patient. Gentle.

You looked up to him, and when you accidentally called him Uncle, he never held it against you or told your sister; but Kuai Liang was the closest thing you ever had to a father, and although he never treated you any differently to the other Lin Kuei, he was always kind.

He even allowed you to have "extra training" with his brother Tomas, which merely meant an excuse to watch Johnny Cage's films for a few hours together.

When you were trained enough to go out on your own, nearly halfway through your twenties, Skarlet picked you up. She took you to the nearest city, and as she was walking with you, she couldn't help but to laugh smugly to herself.

You were a little apprehensive, and couldn't understand why she wore a long, flowing red and black dress instead of her usual armour. It seemed a bit impractical, even if you were wearing a black hoodie and pale grey jogging bottoms that had been given to you by Tomas.

"I've got someone to introduce you to," she told you with a sly smile.

You looked at her with a raised brow. "Please tell me it's not Erron. You know I told him I wasn't interested."

"No," Skarlet shook her head. "It's someone you've never met before, and- in here."

You followed her into a nice restaurant, a little apprehensive; your sister could scheme and could be sly. She taught you how to do so yourself, but you knew that you could always trust her and that, if she had someone who she wanted you to meet, then you could probably trust them.

So you shrugged, and when she brought you to a quieter table, you didn't really question much. She ordered a glass of red wine while you got yourself an energy drink with a shot of vodka. Idle conversation with your sister followed until the drinks arrived, but just as you were about to take your first swig, you nearly choked on nothing.

"Is that-"

"Johnny Cage," Skarlet smiled, standing up and shaking his head. "You showed up."

Johnny nodded. "Well, yeah, Kuai Liang told me it was important - might be useful for my next film and-"

"Holy. Shit."

He looked at you, taking note of your appearance, and grinned. "Hello, handsome."

"Hi," you said quietly, feeling all too nervous. "I, uhm… hi."

Johnny pushed past your sister to sit next to you, his arm stretched out across the back of your chair. "I'm Johnny."

"I, I'm- I know," you said softly, hoping you didn't look too much like a deer in the headlights. He was even more handsome up close.

"He's a big fan," Skarlet told him. "Johnny, meet my brother."

Johnny laughed softly, not taking his attention from you. "Big fan?"

You nodded. Words had left you, and you weren't sure if you wanted them back or not. He was so pretty with his big brown eyes and his silly grin. You swallowed thickly, laughing nervously. "Sorry…"

"Oh, don't be," he shook his head. "If I knew all my fans were this good looking, I think I'd have it written into my contract that my press tours should be longer."

You laughed softly. "Thank you…"

Skarlet rolled her eyes, knowing her job had been done; she finished her glass of wine, and walked away, making sure to give the staff a tip before she left properly.

Johnny looked you up and down shamelessly. "Y'know, you've got leading man looks - have you ever thought about acting?"

You shook your head, stuttering nervously. "Uh, no…"

"You should," he mused. "You could really make it big, looking like that… Kuai Liang trained you, right?"

You nodded. "And Tomas."

"So he's handsome and he can fight," Johnny grinned. "Let me guess, you can cook and clean, too?"

"Yu-yeah."

"The full package," he put his hand on your shoulder. "How are you not married?"

You shrugged. "Just not something I ever, uhm… it's just not, uhm…"

"Don't be nervous," Johnny said quietly, moving to sit a little closer. "I know I'm a big time, handsome, movie star - but you're in safe hands with me… although… it's probably me who's in safe hands with you, right?"

You laughed softly, and Johnny felt his head spin a little at the sound; you knocked back your shot of vodka, hoping it would give you some confidence. "I, uhm…I need a drink."

"It's on me," Johnny told you, flagging down the waiter and getting six shots. The first round. "Handsome guy like you… it's only right I should buy your drinks."

You felt like your heart was going to pop out of your chest; Johnny Cage, a man you had been a fan of for who knew how many years, thought you were handsome. Fuck. You knew that the night would end somewhere wonderful. You didn't really want it to end.

There was one round, then another, and another, and you lost track after you started kissing Johnny in the alleyway after you had gone out for a cigarette; you weren't really sure what happened after that, but when you woke up, you were confused.

It was clearly a hotel room given the pristine painted walls and the lack of dust, the duvet around your waist was white and soft, yet a little stale. There was someone in the bed next to you, and when you gently pulled back the duvet, you wanted to scream.

Johnny Cage was in your bed. Or you were in his. Either way.

He turned over, opening one eye as he grinned.

"Hello, handsome."

"Johnny Cage is in my bed," you breathed out, staring at him.

"Mild correction, sweetheart," he groaned, sitting upright and stretching a little. "You're in my bed."

He still had his trousers on from the previous night. You were still fully clothed. You sighed a little with relief. "I'm… I'm in your bed?"

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "To be honest, I'm not really sure how we got here, I can't remember anything after kissing you but… y'know, I'm not one to kick a guy so handsome out."

You laughed softly, flopping down onto your back and covering your face with your hands as you grinned; but that's when you noticed it. The gold band on your ring finger. "Johnny?"

"Uh-huh?"

"I think something did happen last night," you murmured. "I'm wearing a ring…"

Johnny looked at his own ring finger, and barked out a laugh when he saw. "So am I."

"Well, fuck."

"Hey, this might not be all that bad," he told you, pulling your hands away from your face and straddling your waist. "At least it gives me a chance to know my biggest fan."

Your hands went to his waist by instinct as you bit down on the inside of your bottom lip. "You… you mean that?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded, leaning over and letting his arms rest on the mattress either side of your head. "What?"

"Nothing, I… just…" you shrugged. "I dunno…"

"C'mere," Johnny whispered, gently and softly kissing you. He smiled when you buried your hands in his soft brown hair, getting his legs between yours as he nipped at your bottom lip softly. "What'd you say, huh? Me and you, husbands, and if it doesn't work out, I'll make sure you're taken care of - money, a house, whatever you want, baby."

You nodded. "Like dating?"

"With extra steps."

"Alright," you agreed with a soft laugh. "I… it's not what Kuai Liang would've wanted for me, but… fuck it. Uncle Liang can fuck himself."

"Perfect," Johnny grinned, trailing his hand down to your waist. "Do you want any breakfast, baby?"

"Yeah, I could eat," you nodded. "Thank you."

"I'm your husband," he teased softly. "It's my job to look after you."

[withered--s0uls]

Oh look it's another GD crossover

Ghost Drone AU - @electrozeistyking

You already saw all this art but shhh HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

This originally started out with me just wanting to draw Beanie interacting with the Intertwined Codes Kids but then I added some extra stuff lol.

If you're a reader of Intertwined Codes, this kinda sorta spoils future stuff bc only the twins have been mentioned in the Draft/Teaser fic but oh well. You have been warned.

IC!Uzi wouldn't like actually meet GD!N bc they'd kinda decide that "hey, let's not have the widowed man see an alternate version of his wife that actually got live." simply out of respect kinda?? So she would stick around at home with the kids whilst IC!N goes out to look for Beanies Dad after their kids drag her to them lmao.

So yeah she doesn't necessarily know the extent of the mans depression, the kids just mentioned there only being a dad so she just specifically asks about GD!N in this doodle

IC!N would quickly pick up on GD!N not being completely okay, even without being told any details. So he probably would end up sitting him down to talk on their way back to the IC!Doorman families place, wanting to help if he can in any way. (He runs a Daycare and tries to also be a support to any parent that needs it, so I feel he out of habit would lean into trying to do that with GD!N)

More/The kids under the Cut otherwise the post looks so long rip

I will go over each of these one by one (can'tdo close ups bc 10 image limit, I'll reblog this in a second with the close ups.)

Left are the Code-Related Nuzi kids, right are the adopted ones.

Code related kids

Zagi:

Not much to say, I'm still working out their personality - they're maybe 2-3 years older than Beanie, so they aren't too far apart in age. :)

Orita:

She's the sibling who started the trend of putting stickers on her siblings, so she DEFINITELY would do the same with Beanie.

She also probably originally was going to show her how to build a weapon, but her parents promptly stopped that lmao .

She would think it's really cool that Beanie has a custom core icon & in general is completely customized from the start! She herself was originally put into a regular worker body (just with the tail and headband being custom made by her mom), she had to build the DD forearms herself. She also has a sticker of the DD icon on her core, covering the WD icon :3

Rexim:

At this point he has enough siblings to be past the "ew a little kid" phase, so luckily Beanie gets spared that. His main camera is damaged, he only really uses his headband optics to look around, so he would kinda just look as if he's staring past her a lot. But bc of the obvious cracks in his visor I feel she would pick up on the fact he's not actually ignoring her.

Also he definitely would just play music to her, because IC!Uzi kinda always has music on whilst working in her workspace he kinda picked up some of her taste in music (Hence he's playing the same song that Uzi is shown to have been listening to in Ep7)

Raven:

First up THANK YOU Zeisty for helping me brainstorm silly stuff for them. They're a little ball of chaos now and I love them.

Anyways.

They would join Orita in bedazzling Beanie, and then they'd start talking about bird facts and also try to get Beanie to talk about her interests.

(Their height difference isnt 100% accurate bc halfway through drawing this I changed the IC timeline, making Raven about the same age as Zagi instead of them being a teen, so I kinda had to manually try and semi-fit their heights lol)

Adopted Kids

Ray:

Nothing to say. He's a baby. Tho whilst I was outlining this one I had to giggle because of how big he is in Beanies hands. She's so tiny 😭💕 /affectionate

Annika:

Oh boy. Ann.

Annika is the eldest kid & was adopted a while before Zagi was coded / whilst the parents were organizing the code copies for Zagi

She does NOT know how to talk to other kids. Never did. It made her stick out at the orphanage wing because she just avoided everyone. And it is very chaotic when Olivia and Ray first show up, because Ann's only idea of talking to other Drones is "well you got to be relatable" so she brings up the siblings dead parents bc like, her code parents are dead too. Both pairs dying to DDs. So yeah she probably would be the first, if not only one, in the whole household to just bring up GD!Uzi. She would do it like it's nothing either.

IC!Uzi would promptly get her to stop and sit her down having a conversation about "what did N and I say about trying to connect on that topic?"

Like IC!Uzi would actually feel really bad about it despite Beanie not knowing her mom. Bc she herself obviously didn't remember IC!Nori growing up but still didn't like the topic.

Olivia:

Olivia, as I said, was greeted with the topic of dead parents by Annika as well. So she probably would kinda interfere when IC!Uzi goes to sit Ann down to talk.

She would feel the need to apologize for the older girls behavior (which Ann would apologize for herself later too ofc) and would try to get Beanie to go play something together whilst IC!Uzi sorts that whole situation out.

She's also the closest to Beanies age probably, just was forced to mature bc of what happened to her parents, despite being taken in by Nuzi shortly after. She still obviously acts like a kid tho when comfortable, so I feel she would kinda ease up around Beanie and actually act more like a 4-5 year old around her.

Bonus? Bonus!

Needless to say Beanie would return home covered in stickers & hairpins (Orita & Raven have more than enough of those, they'd just let Beanie keep some)

RIP GD!N having to get her out of those stickers once they're back home

Also, for the "*humming*" variation of the picture I blame @k1k0oftheworld. Kiko was in vc with me when I was talking about how Beanie would be covered in stickers when she gets home, and saw the doodles as well.

He proposed the following scenario after seeing Rexim show Beanie IC!Uzis playlist:

Beanie humming dead batteries song & GD!N having a breakdown bc it reminds him of GD!Uzi

I do not take accountability for this, I was going to spare the poor widowed man.

(I scrapped the idea of him not knowing ab the IC!Doorman family and him getting a mini heart attack when Beanie goes "I met Mom today" in favor of him and IC!N meeting & talking - I WANTED TO SPARE HIS POOR HEART)

@k1k0oftheworld you owe him money for a therapy session now /silly

Anyways that's it, I'll put the close ups in the reblog like I said 👍

[witheringwidgetwrites]

Obey Me Bros React to an MC with Narcolepsy!

This is almost purely self indulgent. Also based off of my personal symptoms! Also small rant but I absolutely do not think Belphie has narcolepsy. I feel like a lot of folks don't have much knowledge on it and make assumptions just bc he sleeps so much. Also did not include cataplexy in this! I felt it would make it much too long lol.

TW: falling asleep while driving is mentioned, alcohol use is vaguely mentioned

LUCIFER

Admittedly, he doesn't know much about it before you join the program. Has a slight assumption that you'll just sleep a lot like Belphegor. Learns very quickly that that is not entirely the case.

His first introduction to your narcolepsy is when he hears about you falling asleep during class, and he's a little irked. You have to explain it to him, and you simply can't help it.

He gets to see it up close and personal when you fall asleep at the dinner table, hand barely holding up your head, plate untouched and eyes fluttering closed. He watches you intently, unsure of how he should proceed. He lets you rest, hushing his brothers and waking you up soon after, urging you to finish your dinner.

He finally understands when you're one of Diavolo's parties, as usual, he kept a close eye on you, watching your hips sway to the music as you danced with Asmo, seemingly having the time of you life! Until you suddenly stop, starting to walk away, almost tripping over your own feet as you go to sit down. He think's you're sick for a moment, before watching you lay your head on the table and quickly doze off.

Is on top of any medications you may need to take. He sets a fairly strict schedule, making sure you get enough restful sleep to reduce sleep attacks during the day.

If you struggle with insomnia, he'll help you sleep in anyway he can, even if it's lending you his coat or his very comfortable bed.

MAMMON

Has no clue what it is, firstly assumes it's like epilepsy. Which he also has little knowledge of.

His first account is when you first arrive, he's walking you through the RAD halls and you start to trip over yourself, head seemingly bobbing back and fourth as your eyelids flutter. "Wha? Did ya not sleep right or somethin'?" You have to explain to him what it is, and he probably doesn't fully understand it yet.

As you grow closer, he lets you drive his prized Demonio 666 Lexura. Very rarely, but he couldn't ignore the sparkle in your eyes when he joked about it. He starts to panic when he sees you slightly drift to the side of the road, just barely noticeable, and he realizes you're having trouble keeping your eyes open. He quickly takes over, heart still racing at the thought of what could have possibly happened.

Definitely takes it more seriously after the car incident, he refuses to let you drive anywhere, almost ever. It's very rare that he'll let you behind the wheel.

Once he notices the insomnia, he's definitely confused. "I thought ya had that sleepy human disease?" He cocks his head at you, pursing his lips. You have to explain the science behind narcolepsy for him to really understand.

He also likes to keep you to a loose schedule, calling in a favor with Belphegor to make sure you're asleep by a certain time.

LEVIATHAN

Has an idea of what it is, only because of NarcoBerries from one of his games. Very vague idea, however. Guesses that Narco = sleep, so some kind of sleep issue.

His first encounter with it is when you're playing Devil Kart, one of the first few times he's let you in his room, and he looks over to realize that your eyelids are halfway closed, and your controller is slipping out of your hands: He panics for a moment, not wanting to touch you, but settles on leaning in and calling your name. He's shocked when you startle, eyes still half lidded and yawning. "Sorry Levi, can I take a nap in here?" Before he can respond, you're already halfway asleep. He let's you lay there, grabbing one of his extra pillows to throw at you.

The encounter that makes him understand a lot more is when you go to a human world convention! You'd been friends for a while, and you were both so excited! There's an unmistakable excitement in your eyes, and he's so giddy! He wouldn't call it a date, but probably thinks of it as one, secretly. He's quickly disappointed when you're sitting down to eat, and you drop your fork onto your plate, head slowly dropping down. He lifts your head, not wanting you to fall or face plant into the food, and talks to you quietly, "are you bored, MC? We can head home if you need!" He's hoping you don't take him up on his offer. "Thank you Levi, can we just sit against the wall and let me nap in your lap for a minute?"

He's a little embarrassed, but powers through, only for his Henry!

He is one who does not keep you on a schedule, but he tries to get you to sleep in his room while he stays up, playing games. He wants to make sure you're getting as much rest as a normie needs!

Will also let you play games with him when your insomnia is awful though!

ASMODEUS

Probably has heard of it as 'sleeping beauty syndrome' or something. Only finds out what narcolepsy is from Lucifer, when Asmo brings up how you've fallen asleep so often lately.

His first encounter with your narcolepsy is when he's doing your makeup, he's applied almost everything, until he finally gets to your eyeshadow. He turns around, a magenta pigment on the brush, and he realizes your head isn't tilted upwards anymore! Tries to talk to you, asking you to life your head, but he realizes you're asleep. Frowns, but crouches down to finish his work.

The encounter that makes him understand a lot more is when you're at a party at The Fall! Asmo is barely buzzed, he turns away from you for a few minutes, just enough to get another drink, and he can't find you! After looking for a short period, he finds you at one of the booths, your head in your arms, leaning on the table, he can hear soft noises from you as he approaches. Tries to wake you, gently shoving your shoulder before he realizes you're not budging. He sits with you, texting his brothers and asking what he should do, as he can't just leave you there! He settles on waiting for Beelzebub to escort you, and tipsy Asmo home.

Is not very helpful with your insomnia unfortunately. He needs his beauty rest and so do you! Might recommend medication to get you to sleep, or might suggest his baby brother as an assistance.

Might also suggest some sort of physical activity to tire you out.

SATAN

Knows a little about narcolepsy. He's interested enough to study it before you arrive though. Makes the assumption that you have all the symptoms.

His first incident is after a few weeks, you're sort of settled into Devildom life, and you both have a habit of meeting in the library after school most days. He's sitting in the chair next to you, engrossed in his book! As he reads the final pages of the chapter, he looks up to discuss it with you, only to see you with your eyes closed, head thrown back, and steady breaths rising your chest. He feels the blood run to his cheeks, he thinks you look vulnerable. He puts his bookmark in, getting up to crouch down in front of you. He pushes against your shoulder gently, whispering your name. "MC, let's go. I'm going to walk you home."

The incident that makes him understand it more is when he's started trying to court you. What else than the cat cafe? You both walk down the busy street, brushing shoulders as you approach the door. He orders a tea, and a pasty for you. You make your way to the cat room, and you both take a seat, he watches a beautiful black cat crawl into your lap, kneading at your thighs. You giggle at him, and he smiles back, before his attention turns to a small kitten that scurried accross the room. He follows it, dangling a flirt pole for her to chase after. He turns to show you, before finding you dozing off, breath slowing, eyes mostly closed, hand still on the kitty in your lap, who seems to be enjoying your affection. He might be in love. Let's you rest while he plays with the cats.

BEELZEBUB

Puts the idea together from Narcoberries. (HC that they're a real thing in Devildom lol.) Also assumes it's similar to Belph, you're just very sleepy constantly.

Isn't very sure of your condition, but as your grow closer, he notices quite a few patterns, and then realizes how much it really effects you.

The first incident is at one of his Fangoul games! You've really grown on him lately, and hearing you cheer from the crowd while he plays gets him riled up. Until he looks over, just scoring the 2nd to last point he needs to win, and you're slouched over, head leaning on Lucifer, who wrapped his coat around you. He realizes you're asleep, before going back to playing, hoping you'll wakeup to see him win.

He learns a lot more about you when he sits with you at the RAD cafeteria, you're chatting while he eats. Well, you're chatting, he's mumbling between bites. He watches you while you talk, and he starts to hear you trip over your words, speech slurring slightly, and eyelids starting to drop. "MC, are you okay?" He pauses his eating momentarily, looking you over. "Yeah, I'm okay, just having a sleep attack I think" "Do you want me to talk you to the infirmary?" "I'm okay, might just nap here for a minute. You can have my lunch." He's greatful, attempting to leave you some food, before he gives into his sin.

Calls on Belphie to help with you insomnia, and he tries to carry around a small pillow or blanket in his backpack for you.

BELPHEGOR

Knows about it. Used to be fascinated by human diseases and illnesses. Doesn't remember everything about it, however.

The first incident is when him and his brothers are working at The Fall. (Bunny event!) You come to visit, the place is packed. He elects to be your waiter, sauntering over to your table before asking, "what can I get for you today, MC?" You pick your meal, offering him a sleepy smile before he walks away. He comes back after 20 minutes, he chuckles, seeing your hand barely holding up your head, eyes closed. He wakes you gently, offering to skip his shift so you can nap together.

He realizes how badly it effects you when you're out stargazing, something you'd been wanting to do with him for weeks, and you can't seem to keep your eyes open. He chuckles when he hears you start to snore softly, so he softens his words, letting you doze off, snuggling into you while he joins you in slumber.

He is the obvious solution to insomnia. He'll simply use dream magic to put you to sleep. Look no further, he is your savior.

[scarlettscribbles]

prologue

PART OF neither the angels in heaven above, nor the demons by the sea DRABBLE SERIES ↠ masterlist

- Lucy Gray Baird & Daughter!OC, mentioned Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow

Summary: 1.7k words - The words were on the tip of her tongue before Coriolanus had let it slip that he'd killed three people.

As Lucy Gray became a ghost lost in the wind, so did her secrets.

a/n: i cannot stop thinking about snowbaird !! inspired by my visenya-verse and also bc i love writing about children being loved :)

also, shout out to PlayingTheGameOfThrones' It's Quiet Uptown! i was reading snowbaird fics and i was so happy to find a secret kid fic. literally squealed in excitement bc i was like, that's what's literally in my brain rn

In truth, Lucy Gray was too young to be doing this. Halfway eighteen, with her heart broken by a man — a boy, really — who almost killed her. Ironically, the suspect of her current predicament was the same person. Oh how Lucy Gray hated it that he still haunted her now.

She had Lucy Gray’s tan skin, her baby girl. The wisps of her hair stuck against her forehead were bright blond. Lucy Gray wondered if her hair would darken eventually.

Annabel Rose Baird was a sickly baby. Her heart was weak and every night, Lucy Gray would have trouble sleeping, afraid that she’d wake up with a cradle gone cold. But she was a survivor, her Annie. Much like her mother. (And father.)

But they could not live on that alone. Lucy Gray, barely recovered from birth, wrapped her baby tight on her back with a sling and took their meager belongings in a bag, setting out to find the community up North Billy Taupe had once talked about. Lucy Gray walked for miles and miles, sometimes wishing she hadn’t left behind that lovely orange scarf her lover gave her. It would’ve made for a more comfortable sleep in their journey. She could’ve given it to Annie as her baby blanket, something to remember her childhood by — the one piece of her father she would ever know or keep. But alas, Lucy Gray had left it behind along with the broken pieces of trust she once thought she could rely on.

Lucy Gray found them eventually. Or rather, they found her. It was in the middle of the night and she’d just put Annie to sleep when flashes of light shone through the gaps between the trees. Cradling her whimpering baby close to her chest, Lucy Gray raised a hand in surrender, hoping that she was saying the right words for them to not shoot her.

They took them to their leader and gave them a small cabin. It was cozy and comfortable but it wasn’t home. Not when their leader, with his calculating eyes and access to Capitol broadcasts, look at her and her baby with such intense scrutiny. Lucy Gray’s paranoia increases every time he “accidentally” chances upon her with questions about the Capitol, about the Hunger Games, about Annie. He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is. Lucy Gray endures his questions, answering casually to alleviate the suspicion upon her. Her heart threatens to beat out of her chest every single time. She could only properly breathe again when she’s back within the four walls of their cabin, with Annie safe in her arms, her little puffs of breath warming Lucy Gray from the inside out.

The one saving grace of the place was Dr. Hartree. She was training under some big shot Capitol doctor when she fled, so she knew more than the District healers did despite the meager hospital equipment she had. She diagnosed Annabel Rose with something called moderate Ventricular Septal Defect; a heart disease she had since birth. Dr. Hartree let her listen to the whooshing sound of her Annie’s heartbeat through the stethoscope. Her baby’s got a hole in her heart. Lucy Gray wept.

Dr. Hartree said that the hole might yet repair itself, that she could look for some medicine that could help strengthen Annie’s heart muscles. But if it did not, Annie would need heart surgery which Dr. Hartree was neither qualified for nor equipped to do. In that scenario, going to the Capitol would be Annie’s best hope, said the doctor. The community’s leader approved Dr. Hartree’s request for getting the medicine. In exchange, Lucy Gray had to take on additional work on top of what she’d already been assigned with to earn her keep. Lucy Gray was both thankful and suspicious. She was no fool, a big favor like that didn’t come without heavier strings. But her baby was alive so Lucy Gray kept her head down. (For the moment, at least.)

Annabel Rose grew up a happy child. She was small for her age but her presence filled the room and her heart was so full of love. Whenever she smiled, a deep dimple showed on her cheek and her warm brown eyes would shine like stars in the night sky. Her baby never did grow out of her blond hair, riotous curls tumbling down her head. She looked like an angel; Lucy Gray’s own angel.

She was truly heaven sent. There were no words to describe how much her daughter made her happy, which was something, coming from a songwriter. Oft Lucy Gray wished the Covey had a chance to know her daughter. Annabel Rose fit in alright with the children of the community, but children can be cruel sometimes. Annie’s body was weak and she ran out of breath fast, making her unable to be included in strenuous physical activities. Lucy Gray was not deaf to the whispers of “runt” that surrounded her daughter, whispers that eventually reached Annie’s ears, causing her to come home tearfully, fisting her mother’s skirt and asking what it meant. Once upon a time, Lucy Gray would have been rearing for a fight but everything was different now. She didn’t have her Covey; her and Annie were alone.

Oh, people were nice enough but, like in District 12, they seemed to be able to sense an otherness in her and Annie that made them unable to accept them fully. It didn’t help that the community leader’s demeanor was like that either. The residents liked and respected him better than the strangers they barely knew anything about, so of course they’d follow his example.

Lucy Gray had been missing her Covey so much that she contemplated going back to District 12, back to her family, when she’d heard that an electric fence was put around it, complete with Peacekeepers patrolling the perimeter. They’d never bothered with that area before, but Lucy Gray had an inkling why they suddenly found it important.

So what else could she do but grit her teeth and bear it? Every night Lucy Gray would sing songs to Annie and tell her stories about the Covey, about her family and the colorful nights and laughter they shared. And Annie’s eyes would shine in the low lamplight, humming along to the tunes.

Lucy Gray did not bring her guitar with her during her journey out of District 12, but she was able to obtain a smaller version — a ukulele — from a traveling salesman. His initial offer nearly took all her saved up money to pay for, but she was able to haggle down to a more reasonable price. At 3-years-old, Annabel Rose learned the basic chords from her mother. The first song she learned was to the tune of Lucy Gray's namesake.

It tugged at Lucy Gray’s heartstrings to hear her Annie’s sweet voice in the warmth of their home. She resolved to write a song for her daughter’s fourth birthday as a gift. Lucy Gray had her song, and so did her Capitol boy. It was only apt that Annabel Rose had one too.

It was the night of Annabel Rose's fourth birthday when everything went wrong. Lucy Gray was humming underneath her breath to the tune of a new song, their tiny kitchen fragrant with the smell of a birthday cake she’d stolen half the ingredients for to bake. She lit up a deformed red candle she attempted to mold from whatever melted wax she could find, cupping the flame between her palms briefly to keep it from being blown out. With a satisfied sigh, she wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the bed to shake her daughter awake.

All Lucy Grey felt was the cold skin of her daughter, her breathing shallow and her skin tinged blue. Her heart dropped to her stomach. With shaking hands, she wrapped Annie in a blanket and lifted her into her arms.

On the way to Dr. Hartree’s cabin, Lucy Gray would not realize that she’d been singing the song she’d written for Annie. And she will sing it under her breath while the good doctor examined her daughter, telling her the heart defect had gotten worse. She’d sing it at the back of her mind while Dr. Hartree tells her that surgery wasn’t an option anymore, that the medicine Annie’ll need is only available in the Capitol, that if she wants her baby to live she’ll need to find some way to get her a heart transplant. She’ll sing it and sing it, hoping the girl she’d written it for would awaken long enough to sing it with her.

She would only stop when Dr. Hartree clasped her hands, telling her in a hushed whisper that she’d found a way to get them to the Capitol discreetly. The doctor’s got family among the Peacekeepers in District 12 who was going to go to the Capitol in two days. Some officer fellow that was high-ranking enough to have his own private train cabin, and kind enough to share it with them. Dr. Hartree had given her temporary antibiotics for Annie with an apology that she couldn’t do anything more. When they arrive in the Capitol, Lucy Gray was on her own. Lucy Gray who had no penny to her name, who would probably be shot on sight once the Capitol had caught wind of her existence.

Her mind was racing on the morn she and a barely-lucid Annie snuck out to the gates. They were met with a heavyset man two heads taller than Lucy Gray, driving a military jeep. Time passed quickly and they encountered no hurdles getting to the train station on time. He lent them warm Capitol-style cloaks so they could blend in upon arrival. He’d even made her a cup of tea, noticing the nervousness in her demeanor. Lucy Gray had not been expecting such kindness from a Peacekeeper, no matter how highly Dr. Hartree spoke of him.

It was nighttime when they arrived, snow falling heavily on the ostentatious buildings. It wasn’t only the cold that made Lucy Gray shiver.

Under the cover of the night, Lucy Gray held her Annabel Rose and rapped on the door of the one she’d hoped would help them. If blood was not an enough reason, she could always appeal to their conscience.

The door swung open.

“Tigris, I need your help.”

[tklpilled]

complex

(aether, albedo)

summary: sometimes side effects are more prominent than the actual product.

a/n: this is kinda romantic implied bc i wrote albedo sort of crushing on aether but it could be read as platonic so i'm just keeping it vague lol. more lee aether who is surprised.

[this is a sfw tickle fic!]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

At this point, Aether is used to being a test subject. He came to Teyvat to find his sister, yet now he’s going to leave an unwilling hero and guinea pig — and, by the looks of it, still sisterless.

He can’t count how many times he’s gone through Lisa asking him to try a new spell, or Charlotte telling him to stand still so she can work on her photography, or Lyney practicing a magic trick he’s just come up with. He doesn’t mind it, really, not that much — it’s better than trying to fix all the Archons’ problems for them.

(He’s still hoping for Diluc to join the ‘ask-Aether-to-try-every-new-thing’ club, but considering everyone thinks he’s a teenager and not thousands of years old, he doesn’t think he’ll be doing a wine tasting any time soon.)

Point is, this whole thing isn’t just because of his own stupidity. He made a very understandable assumption, alright?

“Come here,” Albedo says, writing down some notes. “I want you to try this elixir out for me, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Aether nods, although Albedo can’t see it with his head bent down. He walks over to the table and sees two bottles, both filled about halfway. On the right is a pale green, glistening substance, and the bottle on the left contains a much more appetising blue-purple liquid. Albedo doesn’t look up from his notes, so Aether takes a 50/50 chance and picks up the left bottle. He downs it in one go.

Albedo looks up, then tilts his head. “That wasn’t the right one.”

Oh.

If Paimon were here, she’d panic and begin asking every question she could think of — but she’s not here, and Aether doesn’t know how to panic for himself. So, all he says is, “Am I going to die?”

“No,” Albedo says, sounding a little amused at how flat his voice is. “But—”

“Will I be in pain?”

“No.”

Aether shrugs. “Alright then. I don’t see a prob—LEHEM!”

His hands shoot up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening as a sudden sensation washes over him. Albedo looks on with a mixture of pity and curiosity as he sinks to his knees. “Maybe I should have warned you better…”

Aether curls in on himself, arms wrapped around his middle now instead of his mouth. “M-mahahake it stohohop!” he pleads, scrunching up his shoulders to protect from invisible, non-existent hands.

Albedo kneels down beside him, admiring the grin adorning his face. He’s never heard Aether laugh quite so freely before, and it’s very endearing. He finds himself staring for longer than he had intended. Aether is the one being tickled, yet Albedo is the one blushing — that doesn’t make any sense.

“In my experience, it stops after a short while,” Albedo finally says, blinking away from Aether’s incredibly pretty face, “although I took a much smaller dose than you. I’d estimate ten minutes at most.”

“T-tehehen?” Aether squeaks. “I cahan’t — too muhuhuch!”

Albedo can’t help but smile. Aether’s laugh is far too contagious. “Calm down, you’ll get used to it soon enough. It won’t feel nearly as bad in a couple minutes.”

Despite his words, Aether whines through helpless laughter, although he keeps any more complaints he may have to himself. From what Albedo had experienced, the tickling wasn’t intense at all; merely a step beyond tingling, just enough to make one laugh. For someone as ticklish as Aether, he supposes it might be a bit worse, but the overall outcome should be mostly the same.

“It was supposed to be a strength enhancer,” Albedo says, carrying the conversation while Aether is too busy cackling beside him. “It still is, technically. It just has some…very strong side effects. I’m sure if you could manage to stand, you’d find yourself a bit better with that sword of yours.”

“Plehehease,” Aether begs. “Mahahake it stohohohop…!”

“Hm.” Albedo reaches around him to scratch at his side, sending him scrambling away with a shriek.

“I hahate yohou!” he wails, then returns his arms around his waist protectively and kicks against the floor a little. “Yohou’re cruhuhuel!”

“I could leave you here until it's over,” Albedo suggests, making Aether frantically shake his head. “Maybe even make some more for you.”

“Y-yohou wohouldn’t!” Aether cries, although they both know he absolutely would. 

Albedo pokes a spot on his tummy that his arms fail to cover up. “If you say so.”

[yoursfinn]

Uhhh little fic snippet from the discord’s prohibited wish college au bc I’m too impatient to wait for my ao3 account to be approved lol

Enjoy

“Dude come on it’s fine, I won’t let you fall I promise.” Prismo says as he holds his hand out to Scarab halfway out a window.

Scarab death stares him for a moment and gives in, taking Prismo’s hand in his, letting himself be hoisted through the window.

Once Scarab is fully on the roof, he clutches onto Prismo for dear life, almost slipping in the process.

“Dude I can’t have you dying yet. Hold onto me until we get settled, okay?” Prismo puts an arm around Scarab and hold him close.

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

After cautiously climbing up the roof, the reach a relatively flat area for them to sit. The air is crisp and chilly, a perfect fall night. They look over campus, brightly colored leaves scattered everywhere and blowing in the wind.

Scarab is shivering slightly, but not enough to complain. Prismo notices immediately and without a word, took off his jacket and placed it on Scarab’s shoulders. He flinched at the sudden movement and warmth of Prismo’s jacket, but accepts it and eventually snuggles up to him with Prismo putting an arm around Scarab.

“Scrabby look!” He quickly points up to see stars shining brightly in the night sky. They stay like this for a while, all cuddled together admiring the stars as the commotion of the party they were just attending continues beneath them.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Scarab spat. Prismo had this dumb look on his face whenever Scarab caught him staring.

“Like what?” Prismo giggles.

Scarab shakes his head.

“…hey Scrabby?” The volume of Prismo’s voice was so quiet Scarab almost didn’t hear him.

“Yes?”

Scarab turns his head to face Prismo, who is looking at him with the sweetest face someone could ever make. He then leans in and kisses Scarab gently, bringing a ring covered hand up to hold his face. Prismo backs away after a second with a look of regret. Before he could speak, Scarab returns his kiss, just as gentle as before. He smiles into it, eventually breaking the kiss because he was giggling too much.

“Why are you laughing?” Prismo questioned with a smile on his face.

“Nothing, you’re just dumb.” And they continued where they left off.