#i giggle every time a funny phrase is uttered

[mutopians]

i dont even believe in ghosts i just like when the funny little machines say funny little things

[knoxic]

Teasing and Loving

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: smut, Eris being a simp, smut, emotional talk, smut

wc: 2,8k

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, trying for a baby (hinted at), oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, no beta

a/n: technically it was part of the How to be a High Lady series but it works better as a one shot imo

"Love?" Eris called out to her, pushing her office door far enough to fit his head in, at her nod he let himself in, closing the door behind him. "A letter arrived from Winter." He gently set the letter on her table, away from the other papers scattered around the place.

"Oh, what did they want?" She looked up from the book she was studying, catching the amused grin he tried to hide.

"I don't know, it's for you." He slid the letter closer to her as if to make a point.

"Ah, I'm still getting used to receiving letters like this..." She felt slightly embarrassed but brushed it off, she closed the book carefully and placed it aside before picking up the letter. Eris had made his way around her table and was leaning against it by her side, watching her every move.

"Hello, fellow High Lady! I was hoping we could spend some girl's time together, perhaps while our males discuss some court business, let them handle all the work for a while, now that we are allies, they ought to be friends too. So, what do you say? We could meet here in Winter and I could show you the wonders we have, or, you could show me what Autumn has been hiding all these years, Kal and I have always wanted to visit Autumn, the few hours we get to spend there for the meetings do not do it justice, that I'm sure of.

Eagerly waiting for your response,

Your fellow High Lady, Viviane."

"Viviane is asking if I want to spend some 'girl's time' with her," she giggled, "And I think Kallias finally crowned her High Lady." She showed Eris the letter, pointing to the first and last phrases.

"About time," Eris uttered, "Was starting to think he didn't have it in him."

"Eris." She gave him a pointed look. Sometimes his old self would come up, a natural response, they were both working on it.

"Habit, sorry." He smiled at her, faking innocence but quickly erupted into laughter, making her join him. It was so weird for him not having to insult someone at any opportunity encountered, that when he did, out of nowhere, it was funny.

"You're so stupid." She said, stomach cramping from how hard she was laughing.

"Darling, you marry this stupid, deal with it." Eris sighed, running a hand through his perfect hair trying to compose himself. "So, will you?"

"Yes, it's been way too long since I've had a girl's time." She started searching for some paper so she could write back to Viviane.

"Not to sound insecure or anything but... what exactly do you females do on your 'girl's time'?"

"Just girly things, males and our sex life, you know," she responded nonchalantly, "Last time I had one, one of my friends had even reenacted some scenes..." Eris' face at that moment was something she'd paid to see again. His eyes looked like they'd pop out of his head, his cheeks flushed redder than she'd ever seen before, his mouth was hanging open and he looked like a fish when he trying to talk.

"Relax, Eris! I'm just joking." She laughed, her belly protesting. She saw through watery eyes the moment Eris regained his composure, his smirk gave her a hint that they had a long night ahead.

Two big hands pulled her body up, making her squeal and laugh even harder. Eris picked her up and turned them both so he was now sitting on her chair, his lips kissed her neck while his hands found the ticklish spots around her body.

"You think you can fuck with me and not be punished for it, little witch?" His voice was rough with lust, her laughter died down and turned into soft moans.

"Careful, I might reenact what you'll do next with Viviane..." A hand smacked her cheek, the warm feeling of the scalding fire that ran through his veins made her shiver with goosebumps, the whisper of his slender fingers running up her spine only making her tremble harder. The effect Eris had on her was insane.

"Don't you dare. Not the time to play, love." He bit her shoulder. She nodded, knowing Eris wouldn't actually be mad at her for misbehaving, but he would be stressed, and while he'd never act like his father, an stressed Eris was more sad than anything, and she hated that. He was done being used and beaten, the stress he endured all these centuries was enough to mess with his head so hard that now he could barely bear feeling stressed.

She nodded against his neck, kissing and nuzzling his shoulder. In response, he tugged her closer to him, his fingers finally working on the buttons of her dress, pulling apart and setting her down on her desk to take their clothes off.

When Eris was done unbuttoning his shirt, her hands found his muscular chest, pushing him back, signaling for him to sit. She quickly got down on her knees, Eris purposely slipped the fabric of her dress where her knees would meet the floor, making sure they wouldn't hurt so much. Her fingers worked on the strings of his trousers, when they slipped inside the waistband, Eris lifted his hips for her to slip them out, his briefs following suit, during their undressing, Eris had also taken his boots off.

Her hands danced around his torso and tights, lightly scratching his skin, her fingers followed his happy trail before touching his cock, squeezing him the way he liked while running her hand up and down. His warm fingers caressed her arms, encouraging her to keep the pace.

After he was completely hard, she started licking his tip, running her tongue against the underside, slowly going down and licking the whole expanse of his member. His quiet sights and humming making her skin tingle, leaning away from him she admired her artwork, the way his skin was redder in certain spots, his breath was ragged even with so little action, his eyelids almost fully closed and his hair the same messy hair she saw at home. His vulnerability came with a messy version of Eris that would make anyone question if it was really him, his usually perfect styled hair seemed to have never seen a hairbrush, his enviable posture sometimes slumpy.

"Don't stop..." He whined, his head lolled from one side to another.

Taking pity on him, she brought her mouth back down, taking as much of him as she could, bobbing her head slowly, taking him deeper everytime she went down until her nose was pressed against him.

"Gods... What did I do to deserve you?" Eris mumbled, when she looked up, his eyes were fully closed and his mouth had formed a pleased smile.

Eris wasn't really into blowjobs, at least not like the other males she knew, he'd never refuse it of course, but he wasn't one to ask for it. She never asked and Eris never said anything, but she had an inkling that it might have something to do with his father, the way he viewed and treated females, Eris was bound to have heard and, perhaps, seen some disgusting things.

Her mate's hand gently cradled her head, not moving her, just holding. His hips twitched every time her mouth fully enveloped him, she noticed how much effort he was putting into not thrusting up.

"You can fuck my mouth if you want." Her voice was raspy and breathless when she spoke, immediately going back to sucking on him, paying special attention to his tip. His eyebrows furrowed like he was in pain, mouth opened in a silent moan, the muscular thighs under her finger tensed. Suddenly Eris was pushing her head away and yanking her up into his lap.

"For someone who claims to hate teasing, you're doing it way too well, sweetheart." His hands slipped through her hair until he had a good hold of the back of her head, he pushed her closer to his mouth, just enough that she could touch him if she stuck her tongue out, when she tried to lean in for a kiss, he pulled at her hair. He laughed at her pout and gave a mocking peck to her bottom lip, a mere brush that could never be called a kiss.

"You're mean, you know that?" She pushed at his chest, not exactly trying to push him away, all her strength went to keeping her smile at bay.

"But my love... someone needs to take that seriousness off your pretty face."

"You just say that because you can't be serious around me, I smell envy..." She sniffled jokingly, the only scent that filled her nose was arousal, the musk smell of Eris and the slick coating her thighs.

Eris giggled, throwing his head back, one of his hands left her waist to rest at his abdomen, his body convulsing with soft laughter. None of the males she met before laughed like that, in fact, she wasn't sure if they ever truly laughed. Eris, despite his upbringing, knew how to have a good laugh.

"Oh Gods... I couldn't have asked for a better mate." His  head was still thrown back, if the sight of his body slumped in her chair didn't say anything, his relaxed smile sure did. "Kiss me." The hand that remained on her waist ran up to her cheek, "Kiss me." He repeated, bringing her head closer. "Drown me with the taste of you." Their tongues danced. "Make me forget how to breathe without your hands on me." Her hips lifted enough to take him inside her warm cunt, the feeling making them both groan. "My body is yours, my soul is yours, my heart is yours, take my mind too. My every thought is yours, everything I think is formulated with your face in my mind, everything I plan is thinking of you and us, our future, our family..."

Their heartbeats synchronized, their mouths dancing, the rhythm of her hips rocking their bodies, their chests collided with rapid breaths, hands here and there squeezing and feeling. "Eris–"

"Yes! Yes, yes, please!" His hands went back to her hips, helping her bounce on top of him, her head dropped to his shoulder, nodding.

Eris gasped, as pleasure threatened to push him off the edge, he braced an arm on her waist and lifted himself off her chair, his unoccupied hand pushed the paper off the desk, he'll help reorganize them later. Feeling the kisses she planted on his neck, combined with her sigh of pleasure when he slipped her down his cock, almost made his knees buckle.

He set her down onto the desk, curving an arm under her head, giving her time to adjust to the new position before he started to thrust, his forehead resting on hers, their breaths fanning each others faces.

Her hands ran the whole expanse of Eris' back, encouraging him to thrust into her, each snap of his hip against hers threatening to push her off the desk, the arm he slung under her head being the only thing keeping her from doing so. The intensity of having sex with Eris never failed to amaze her, she wasn't sure if it was because he was her mate, or if it was really just in his nature to be intense, probably both. Due his accidental edging, Eris already felt close to cuming, the fact that she kept squeezing him didn't help, he was sure she was doing it on purpose, brat, he really taught her well. He couldn't stop his hips from stuttering so he just stopped, resting his cock fully inside her, his head dropping to her chest to suck on her perky nipples, trying to pretend it was all in purpose, unfortunately for him, it didn't foul her. Her soft giggles filled his ears, both her hands moving to his head, running her fingers through his wild red hair.

"Have I already told you I love your messy hair?"

Eris pulled back from her breast to look at her, a expressionof shock on his face before a breath burst out of him, "My hair is not messy, love." He answered while giggling, thinking she was joking. She only rolled her eyes in response, moving her hips against his, Eris' mouth feel open, his eyes slammed shut.

"Close already?" She smiled up at him, knowing too well the effect she had on him. Her legs moved so she had a firm grip of him, now being able to move her hips better, squeezing his cock whenever he was pushed deep inside her.

"Keep doing that–" His words were cut off by a groan, "And I'll cum before you." Eris' whole body trembled.

"It's okay." She pulled his head closer to hers, nuzzling his nose before initiating a kiss. She doubled her efforts to make him cum, moving her hips harder and faster, licking into his mouth like an starved female.

Eris groaned, his body tensed, his knees buckled, his arms gave up and he fell fully against her, she could feel his thighs shaking and a hot liquid filling her cunt. She felt every spurt of cum, his cock throbbing, the way that even when he was finished he was still hard. As soon as he regained control of his legs, he trusted slowly into her, pushing his cum as deep as he could.

When he came down from his high, Eris pulled back from her mouth, not once had she stopped kissing him, his eyes roamed through her beautiful body, his hands squeezing her breasts and stomach, sliding down until his thumb met her clit, rubbing lazy circles on her, just enough to feel good.

Eris slid his cock off of her slowly, catching the small spurt of cum that came out and pushing it back inside her. After meeting her gaze one last time, he fell to his knees, his mouth placing gentle kisses and nibbles on her plump thighs.

His nose brushed her clit, their scents mingled together filled his nose, his tongue licked her slit like the starved male he was, slurping his own release mixed with her wetness. Her moans drew him insane, she was a quiet female so to know she made those beautiful noises because of him, was maddening. Her hands brushed his hair out of his face, careful fingers touching his pointed ear, making it twitch involuntarily. She felt more than heard her mate's groan, the vibration directly on her clit pushed her off the edge she didn't even know she was treading. Eris didn't stop, the pleasure building up inside her as if she never reached her release at all. His slender fingers pushing through her throbbing slit, curling into a spot inside her that made her see stars, after years of experience, Eris could definitely bring her orgasm after orgasm if he wanted to, and that's what he did. Pushing his fingers as deep as they'd go and pulling them out before she could slip off again, he played with her until he was sure she was too deep in pleasure to hold it back.

When he was done, she could barely feel her own body, still tingling with pleasure and her mind too fogged up. She felt warmth and his scent enveloped her, her cheek pressed into something hard, his heartbeat helped bring her back to herself. Eris' hand brushed her locks behind her ear, caressing her hair mindlessly, he planted kisses where he could reach, head, forehead, eyes, nose, until she stared back at him, eyes still shining as she smiled.

"That was good." She said, voice barely a whisper. Eris hummed in response, smiling back.

He helped her into his shirt, knowing she was too sensitive to wear her dress again. After that they went back to their chambers, still holding one another as they went. All the servants had gone to bed by now, so no one saw their half dressed High Lord and Lady walking through the corridors.

"Are you too tired for a bath?" Eris asked agaisnt her neck, never one to stay away from his mate. "Hungry? I can go make us something." He brushed her jawline with his nose, arms tightly holding her against him.

"Not too tired, and kind of hungry but I'd rather have you here with me." She answered with her eyes closed, bathing in the affection he poured on her.

"I'll draw us a bath, and then we'll go eat something." It was natural for them, so many times had Eris gone to visit her in the middle of the night with an empty stomach, right after finishing all of his work for the day. It only got worse when he became High Lord, so many things to be fixed that the only moment they got to themselves was at night, when Prythian was asleep.

Taglist: @callsigns-haze , @lilah-asteria , @mybestfriendmademe , @coldmermaidhologram , @rcarbo1 , @andreperez11 , @st4r-girl-official , @tenshis-cake , @pirana10 , @esposadomd lmk if you want to be added/removed

A/n²: I accidentally wrote "you can duck my mouth if you want"... and when I read it midway through the smut it was... cringe, I stopped writing. had to go feed the ducks

[lanabuckybarnes]

Tha gaol agam ort.

This was originally a drabble, now it’s probably a mediocre one shot but the words kept coming and my fingers kept typing.

I just wanted an excuse to boast that I’m Scottish lol. I hope you enjoy. There should be a rough translation with every word or phrase but if I’ve missed any let me know!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Scottish! Female reader

Trigger Warnings: Swearing is all! Unless you count the use of Y/N as one. Also I call Scots a dialect once, please don’t come for me my people.

Word Count: 1.9k (oh my god it’s over 1000 words!!!)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

When Bucky had first met Y/N, he had no clue what she was saying but the confusing phrases and silly placement of random words she intrigued him. Originally just her speech had him interested but it wouldn’t stay like that.

It was only after 4 months of getting to know her, speaking to her almost everyday, whether she was happy, sad or drunk until Bucky had been confident enough to say he understood what she was saying. Most of the time.

The others though, they hadn’t a clue.

It was winter, the temperature dropping rapidly each day. The crime didn’t stop. Bucky and Y/N had just finished their patrol, thoughourly soaked to the bone from the unrelenting rain.

The doors to the elevator opened on the communial floor, Y/N popping out first with a grumpy Bucky, looking akin to a soggy cat following behind.

“Fuck me it’s baltic out there like” the thick accent boomed across the living area, the others looked at her in confusion. Bucky gazed at their bewildered faces, sighing.

“She said it’s cold”. At the translation they all gave a variation of agreement, they were thankfully Bucky had spent a lot of time around her. They needed a translator, and he needed a girlfriend.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Lover boy. Sam had started calling him around HQ and it stuck, much to Bucky’s bemusement and confusion. He didn’t see the heart eyes he’d gaze at Y/N with, after all. ‘They were just too lazy to learn’, he said to himself, pummeling shot after shot into the thick punching bag.

“Careful lover boy, you’ll knock the stuffing out of it” Sam quipped, entering the gym, his skipping ropes hung loosely over his shoulder.

“Lover boy” Bucky repeated lowly whilst sending a vicious right hook into the leather, he was thinking of Sam’s face. The nickname tasted disgustingly bitter on his tongue, Sam just laughed.

‘Lover boy? What the hell kind of name was Lover boy anyways?’ A deep scowl settling itself onto his features as he thought. He almost didn’t hear the gym door squeak open again.

“Ooft, don’t look in the fridge you’ll turn the milk sour” She giggled at her own joke. ‘Very funny Y/N’ Bucky mused in his head. His scowl worsened, if it was even possible but he failed to repress the small blush at the sound of her chuckles.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Bucky had been stuck on those words all day. The the nickname never failed to leave his head after any one of the group called him it, the foul mood it brought following it as well. The only person Bucky hadn’t chewed the head off of was Y/N. Which the others weren’t particularly surprised about.

Watching a grown man shovel cereal into his mouth was probably the most interesting thing Y/N had ever seen, sorcerers and aliens be damned. The conversation she was having with Nat and Sam fading in and out of her mind in favour of watching Bucky chew violently, throughly slaughtering the wheat O’s.

“What do you think?” Nat asked, a smile playing on her lips. She’d caught her staring at Bucky, again.

“Huh?”

“About love, Sam thinks that everyone has a soulmate but I’m not so sure. What say you?” Nat clarified, leaning forward on her chair.

“Well my granny used to say, ‘What’s fur ye, will no go by ye’ so I suppose that’s my stance” She smiled at Nat who’s jaw had dropped in utter confusion.

“Hey lover boy, translate that” Sam shouted over to Bucky, his icy gaze turned in the direction of the trio. Allowing himself to linger a little too long on Y/N’s soft features.

“Hey!” Clicking his fingers at Bucky, Sam directed his attention back to the conversation.

“She said what’s for you won’t go by you. It means if you are bound to get something you will get it”. His features turned almost deadly “and click your fingers in my face again and you’ll get what’s coming for you”

“Ok, ok. Keep the heid” (calm down) she interjected, her small hand coming up to rest on the metal of Bucky’s shoulder , her soft fingers grazing over the sensitive skin at the edge. Such a simple gesture shouldn’t have caused his heart to flutter in the way it did.

As soon as Y/N had disappeared, Nat following behind, Bucky cornered Sam in the kitchen.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” He questioned. Sam picked up on the threatening tone laced through his voice.

“Calling you what man?” He chuckled back, trying to act innocent but he crumbled, laughing at the tension.

“Lover boy.”

The sound of Bucky’s angry voice saying those words had Sam buckled in two. He laughed hard, his palm slapping against his thigh as he propped himself up with the other.

“You don’t think we haven’t seen those looks, for a grumpy old man you sure do give her the heart eyes” Sam spoke once his fit of giggles subsided.

“Banner ‘hypothosised’ you were falling in love the first time you translated for her. Not a single person in this building knows what she’s saying except you, it’s not friendship that’s making you want to learn”

Bucky’s faced was flushed red, from anger or embarrassment at being caught out? he had no clue. Probably from both.

“Steve is the least laziest man I know and even he couldn’t learn, he tried many times” Sam explained. Bucky remebered the few occasions Steve had grabbed him by the shoulder or wrist, asking what the misspelled phrases or words in his little red book had meant, phrases you’d said to him that flew over his head. Sam was right.

“Steve also had 10$ on you having a crush on her” Sam let slip, tucking in his lips as soon as the words escaped.

“You’re taking bets on me!” He hissed

“Come on man, how could we not. It was Tony’s idea” Sam was trying to save his own ass by pushing others under the bus.

“I cannot believe you” Bucky snapped before turning on his heel, he’d deal with Sam later. Right now he had to relax. His feet moved on their own, seeking out a familiar room.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Her door rattled, its hinges threatening to break if they were shuddered any longer.

“Alright keep your hair on I’m coming” she exclaimed, rushing from the bathroom with a pale green facial mask painted on her face.

“Bucky! w-what are you doing here?” She asked, embarrassment filling her body at the thought of her appearance.

He didn’t say a word, pushing past her and flopping down on her bed in a way a huffy toddler would flop to the floor if they didn’t get their own way.

“Ok then” she mumbled to herself, taking a seat next to his sprawled out body.

“Who shat in your cereal?” A normal thing for her to say, he knew she was only asking what was up. Even if her tone was a little mocking.

“Sam”.

“Oh how did I guess?” Laughing at her own words as she lay back beside Bucky, her head unintentionally resting against his inner arm.

He thought of moving, thought of whipping his arm to his side but the soft hair slightly tickling his flesh was grounding him. Allowing the anger to dissipate from his body.

“You know they keep calling me lover boy” He stated. ‘Lover boy?’ She thought. ‘Why lover boy?’.

“Why lover boy?” She asked, the question mimicking his thoughts from earlier.

“Well that’s what I asked Sam. I didn’t like his answer, not that it was much of an answer” Bucky responded, although Sam had told him bluntly he didn’t feel comfortable enough to repeat it to her.

He turned his head to watch her soft features try to determine the answer of her own question, she hadn’t even noticed his sapphire eyes watching her. With those same heart eyes that Sam had mentioned.

Gazing lovingly into the side of her head. His pupils dilated, watching every twitch of her brows, every time her eyelashes brushed against her cheek as she blinked. Every time her pink tongue peeked out to wet her plush lips.

Oh my god! Sam was right. He hadn’t just learned her dialect because of genuine interest in the meaning, but because of his interest in her.

He pulled his body up suddenly, her head flopping against the bed causing her to squeak in surprise.

“Gonnae no dae that!” (Don’t do that!) She yelped in surprise, the accent coming through thicker than ever but Bucky was far too focused on his own thoughts.

“Bucky?” She sat up as well, leaning forward almost comically to catch a glance of his frustration streaked face.

“Are you alright?” ‘Fuck that accent was distracting’ he thought. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up, he didn’t want to lose Y/N as a friend but the longer the feelings festered the worse they got felt to keep hidden.

“No. I can’t do this anymore Y/N, I can’t be around you everyday, I can’t watch movies together, I can’t drink with you anymore. I can’t do anything with you anymore. Not until I’ve said what I have to say” Bucky exclaimed. He was sure he sounded angry to her but after all the pent up frustration as a result of having to keep himself from smashing his lips against hers had built up to its boiling point, he was hoping she’d understand.

“What the hell is going on?” She sounded crestfallen, the words breaking her heart. Had she said or done something wrong? Offended him in some way?

“I have spent too much time together with you, as friends. I can’t keep denying my feelings anymore, it’s hurting me physically to hold myself back. I’m borderline insane because I have to contain my thoughts of you” He took a deep breath, looking everywhere but her wide eyes.

“I love you, I have done so for a while. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, I mean I’m a horrible person. The things I did as the Winter Soldier to you, to everyone I’m surprised you even consider me a frie-“

He didn’t get the chance to finish his rant before she’d pulled him towards her. Stealing his lips away from his words selfishly.

The realisation of what exactly was going on clicked, he acted quickly, pulling her close. Almost too close to his own large frame. He groaned into her mouth at the feeling of her long nails scratching his scalp lightly.

His tongue poked against her mouth, fighting for dominance against her own when she let him in.

He’d never imagined he’d feel a kiss like this, not ever again but here it was. If he could’ve, he would’ve died of asphyxiation right then and there. She pulled away first, her breath heavy against his swollen mouth and reddened face.

“You’re an eejit” (idiot) She beamed, pecking his lips again.

“Tha gaol agam ort” she whispered, as if anything louder would scare him and his thoughts of her away.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, he knew a lot of phrases but this one had him stumped. She noticed the confusion in his features.

“It means I love you” she explained, tucking a loose strand of his soft brunette hair behind his ear.

“I love you too” he replied, mustering up all the passion he felt for her and squeezing it into those few words. Her eyes widened slightly, a laugh bubbling up from her throat. She tried covering her mouth but he pulled her hand away.

“What? What is it?” He smiled as well. Her giggles setting off bubbling fireworks in his abdomen.

“You have my face mask all over you”

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Ahhh, im actually proud of this. Even if it was a little selfish of me to write one with this topic.

AND it’s over 1000 words which is a big deal considering I can’t seem to stay focused for 2 minutes. I can’t wait to never write something as good as this again lol

I hope you enjoy x

[0alanasworld0]

Brownies and Macarons (Nayef Aguerd x reader)

Request: Hey luv , can we get a nayef fanfic when he's helping the reader in the kitchen? Thank you

Warnings: references to sex

“Why don’t you ever ask me to help you cook?” It’s a perfectly valid question, he thinks. And it should come with a simple answer yet the way you freeze… he’s confused.

You look up slowly from your laptop and at him; he’s on the floor, back leaned against the wall as he awaited your response.

“What?” you try to play dumb and buy yourself a little bit of time: you needed to construct a response. You weren’t sure of how to phrase it but Nayef was… excitable. Always full of the sweetest positive energy that made him so loveable. It was a big chunk of why you fell in love with him. It was a big reason why he was such an incredible defender.

There were so many positives to Nayef’s endless supply of energy but it also made other things a little difficult. Concentration was sometimes a struggle for him; his mind ran as fast as his legs did so that made time-intensive tasks an absolute nightmare. You were surprised that he didn’t see the glaring problem.

“You heard.” he narrows his eyes.

“Would you even be interested in that kind of thing?! I mean it's kind of time-consuming…” in all honesty, you just worried for the state of the kitchen in general. You didn’t have a good feeling about it.

“Of course! If you love it so much, I need to make an effort to take interest!” you smile at his explanation. He was always so incredibly thoughtful, kind, loving. When it came to aspects of your relationship, he always went all out for you. It made your heart flutter, you couldn’t ask for anything better yet he always found ways to outdo himself.

“That’s one of the cutest things you’ve ever said but you know… I don’t want you to give yourself a migraine trying to focus on cooking out flour!” Anything but directly telling him the problem but he seemed to understand and was rather offended by what you had insinuated.

“Hey! I focus when it matters!” he attempts to defend himself and you scratch the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Yeah maybe on your slide tackles…” you laugh and he gasps.

“And on the love of my life! I could probably become the best goalkeeper of all time if it meant making you happy!” you hide your face in your hands as it heats up, as if he didn’t have you flustered with every word uttered towards you.

“Come on! Pleeeeeease! I’ll try super hard to stay concentrated, I promise!” the sight in front of you is a funny one. Him begging on your knees, eyes squeezed shut and hands pressed together, he was really going all out to convince you and you knew he wouldn’t let things go.

“Okay, fine!” you concede with a sigh and he jumps up from his position at the speed of light to hug you. It knocks the breath out of you and it also nearly knocks you out of your chair. He quickly lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist and spins you around. You squeak in surprise and he slowly lets you down and onto your feet. He can’t help but go for another hug and you can’t help but laugh at his excitement. You weren’t used to people taking this much interest in your hobbies and you perhaps deserved better but you had it now. He was right in front of you, literally buzzing with joy at the simple idea of being your sous-chef.

“Come on! No time to waste!” he’s already dragging you to the kitchen but you somehow manage to stop him.

“We literally only have the ingredients for brownies right now!”

“Then I’m going to help you make the best damn brownies the world has ever seen!” the shrugs nonchalantly. Oh this was going to be a fun few hours.

He decides that dragging you is fruitless and takes to carrying you in his arms to the kitchen instead so you’re in a fit of giggles by the time you reach.

Once he sets you down, you immediately get to grabbing all the ingredients with him trailing along almost helplessly. While most of the stuff is within reach, you notice that a couple of your favourite mixing bowls are placed perhaps a centimetre too far out of reach; in the very top compartment of your cupboard. You begin your normal routine of scaling the counter to reach it but Nayef isn’t particularly impressed. Before you even lift the first leg onto the counter, you feel his warmth behind you. Then his hand on your waist as he leans over and grabs it with ease.You’re sure he didn’t have to lean over like that and the feeling of his chest pressing against your back made you unreasonably flustered. And of course, he has to top it all off with a kiss to your temple.

“You’re a menace.” you shake your head as he gives you space to grab the milk from the fridge.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he shrugs coolly but the smirk on his face suggests that he knew EXACTLY what you were talking about. Oh you were going to put him to work today, that was for sure.

“Okay so I’ll-”

“No wait! We need music!” he gasps, grabbing the speaker and his phone from the living room. You had to admit, you were getting tired of this particular song choice because you had been hearing it on loop since the world cup but you decided that you were going to cope because anything to help him focus, right?

“May I continue, ambassador?” you joke, flicking his ear and he whines.

“Hey, you should be appreciating my efforts! We need an atmosphere!” you shake your head in response and continue.

“Okay, I’ll measure out the butter and sugar and you’re gonna cream them together, easy.” 

“What on earth is that supposed to mean?” he looks horrified at the word and you can’t help but laugh as you measure the stuff out. He had so much to learn.

“Just mix them together.” you hand him the bowl and spoon and he enthusiastically gets started, snatching the things from your hands.

“They should really come up with another word for that.” he notes and you hum in agreement, trying your best not to laugh again at him. While he’s preoccupied with the butter and sugar, you take the time to chop up the baking chocolate. You had to admit, it was nice having someone to accompany you as you went about your interests. To have someone genuinely invested in something you loved for the sheer sake of making you happy. Even the addition of the music was a nice touch. 

You snap out of your thoughts as he shows you his work and thank goodness for his arms because what would have taken you 7 minutes and arm cramps took him 3. 

“It looks perfect, my love!” his excitement bubbles through and hugs your side, slightly lifting you into the air. Maybe this was a good idea all along.

“Okay, 2 eggs and one teaspoon of vanilla in the bowl next!” you’re in the middle of passing the egg box to him when you hesitate.

“Maybe vanilla would be easier…” he once again takes offence, placing his hands around the box and tugging gently.

“Angel…” he whines. Sure, he got a little bit over excited sometimes but eggs? He would surely manage. You eventually relent, letting go of the box and he places it on his side of the counter, taking out two of the eggs as you pour the teaspoon of vanilla into the mix. He’s about to crack the first one but you see the look in his eyes and you already know his mind has wandered elsewhere.

“Have you seen the thing where they crack eggs with their biceps?” he asks and you sigh out.

“A couple times, maybe.”  

“I bet I could- no wait, brownies.” he shakes his head and you can’t help but smile. You had to applaud him for how hard he must have been trying.

He gets back on task, cracking the eggs while you measure out the flour and cocoa powder. He’s a little confused when you bring out his espresso powder, however.

“Coffee brownies?” he innocently inquires and you can’t hold back a laugh this time. He pouts at your response.

“It’s only a little bit! It helps the chocolate taste more like chocolate!” you can tell he’s still a little confused but he brushes it off, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before cracking the second egg.

“You’re the expert I gue- oh nooooooooo…” he whines and huffs and you look over at his station.

“What’s wrong?” you place a comforting hand on his back while he sulks.

“The egg shell! I was being careful, I swear!” He defends and you rub his back soothingly.

“Oh don’t worry about that, it’s an easy fix, see!” you grab the larger egg shell from the counter to scoop the broken piece from the batter. He sighs out in relief but he looks panicked again and you look over, awaiting his next question.

“Don’t impurities ruin the texture? I saw a video about that with those weird french cookie sandwich things! The entire batch is ruined!” he panics and you double over in laughter.

“I just ruined our brownies and you’re laughing?!” he genuinely is baffled by the way you’re continuing to giggle. 

“Love, macarons and brownies… not the same…” you try to take some deep breaths to recover from your laughing fit and he gives a quiet “oh” and it almost sets you off again but you manage to hold back, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes and you get back to measuring.

“Okay now mix all of that together, I’ll tell you when to stop.” He listens diligently, again putting those arms to work.

“This bit is important for the crackly top!” he gasps, eyes lit up from excitement.

“Oh the paper?”

“... sure, whatever you wanna call it.” his mind amazed you at times. He ups the intensity of his mixing while you take on the much easier job of mixing the flour and cocoa and melting the chocolate in the microwave. Once again, the job is done in no time as you take a look at the perfectly airy mixture.

“That's perfect, now add the espresso water and chocolate and start mixing again.” he nods.

“I’m basically a pro at this, we could so start a business together. Your brains and my greek statue muscles: we’d be unstoppable!” you smile at his enthusiasm. 

“Living the dream!” he nods excitedly.

“See! You’re warming up to my ideas now, right?” you shake your head at his silliness, no one made you laugh like he did. He really was special.

“Okay now just the flour and cocoa and your job is done!” he hums allowing you to dump the dry mixture in before getting to work again. There would be no arm cramps for you this time around. 

You get a second to look at him as he carefully mixes the batter. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have Nayef in your life. Someone so naturally optimistic and fun. Someone who never made you feel silly or irrational about your interests. Someone who was always introducing you to new things and finding ways to spend time with you. You had hit the jackpot. 

“Okay, I think that's done so just pour it into the tray and I’ll put it in the oven!” he nods excitedly, carefully pouring the mixture in and allowing you to handle the rest. He takes his well-earned reward of licking the spoon and bowl while you get everything in check and set the timer.

“You enjoying yourself there?” you laugh a little at his joyful state. He looked absolutely adorable and you couldn’t help but press a kiss to his cheek.

“Very much so, we’re literally the perfect team, see!” he points out, referring to your earlier doubts and you had to admit that he was right. It really was the perfect way to spend time together. A part of you felt healed by the way he was trying so hard to do everything perfectly. He didn’t see it as a joke, he genuinely was trying to appreciate one of your favourite past-times.

“I know one thing we could do to pass the time…” he raises his eyebrows suggestively, placing the bowl back on the counter and allowing his arms to find purchase around your waist. He goes for a kiss but you stop him, eyes narrowed.

“As if thirty minutes is ever enough for you! I’d rather not risk burning the house down over this”

“Hey, I can control myself!” he pleads but you’re having none of it. He may have proved you wrong with the baking but when it came to more intimate things, he was insatiable.

You insist that you get everything cleaned up before anything else and relents, although he is sulking the entire time. His mind seems to have drifted from his first idea when he hears the music coming up from the speaker.

“Hey I love this song, come on!” he moves on from the first topic pretty quickly, perking up almost immediately as the familiar melody plays. He pulls you with him, taking your hands in his. You can’t help but indulge in his goofy antics as you dance together to the music, albeit completely offbeat. You really didn’t get much alone time with him and you were so grateful you were spending it so wisely. And he was beyond relieved, getting to spend an afternoon doing one of your favourite things was the mind-boost he needed after such a gruelling season. It was undoubtedly an extremely successful one but he was exhausted nonetheless. And finally having the time to spend on you was worth every muscle cramp he had endured.

You don’t even realise that time has flown by so quickly and you’re both caught completely off guard when the timer goes off. You’re both pulled out of your little bubble and come back to reality. You somehow hadn’t picked up on it while you were ‘dancing’ but the kitchen smelt heavenly. You quickly put on your oven gloves and take the tray from the oven, placing it down on the counter and he’s already seated, eyes fixated on it.

“It’s gonna take like an hour to cool, my love.” you remind him and he sighs dramatically, head dropping onto the counter, eyes still focused on the brownies.

“You know there isn’t a risk of the house burning down anymore…” you trail off with a smirk, throwing off the oven gloves and sauntering over to the stairs. He’s up and off the counter immediately, hot on your heels as you walk up the stairs.

“Say no more!”

It may have been well over an hour by the time he was done with you. You weren’t entirely sure and the brownies were the last thing on your mind as you drifted in and out of sleep, the hand smoothing circles on your back only lulling you close your eyes.

It may have been the last thing on your mind but it was the first thing on his. You whine loudly as he lifts himself up and out of bed, gently removing your arms from around him and grabbing his boxers.

“Corners, sides or centre?”

“Hmmmph… corners…” you mumble, yawning and nuzzling into the sheets. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving to grab what you needed.

He’s back in almost no time but he can tell that you might as well have been fast asleep by that point although your eyes were fluttering.

“Sweetheart, you need to eat!” you hum in vague agreement although he has to help you sit up as you were still recovering from your previous antics. 

Both of you are blown away by the first bite. There was the ‘brownie paper’ that he loved so much and the gooey, fudge texture… perfection.

“You were so right about the coffee!” he leans his head on yours and you hum in agreement.

“Recipe never fails!” you shrug and he smiles.

“Thank you for letting me help” he wraps his arms around you to hug your side and you revel in the feeling of his skin against yours, the warmth radiating off his body.

“It was a pleasure, glad I could put those guns to use!” you joke and he laughs.

“Seriously though, I’m sorry I doubted you…” you had to feel a little guilty. You seriously were ready to shut down a chance at spending some time with the love of your life. At a chance to share something you really loved with him.

“Ah it’s nothing, I proved you wrong!” he pokes your arm and you nuzzle further into his warm hold.

He senses that you’re once again on the verge of falling asleep and with your stomachs full, he has no reason to wake you again. So he carefully manoeuvres you so that you’re laying on your side with him behind you, arms around your middle and his face in against your neck.  

“Good night, angel…” he yawns, smiling when he receives no response other than your hand barely squeezing his wrist and your attempts to back up even closer to him.

Soon enough, he’s fallen into a similar deep sleep, blissful with you in his arms.

Not exactly what the request was referring to but i just thought that it would be so on character for Nayef to bring up the idea in the first place. I hope u guys enjoy <3

[wordsarelife]

Lockwood x sibling reader, with prompts 4, 5, 10, 15? Maybe a mission went badly, reader got hurt and Anthony felt helpless? Love your fics by the way <333

—seven

pairing: anthony lockwood x sibling!reader

summary: a mission went badly, but you and your brother console each other

warnings: near death experience, but apart from that none

prompts: in bold

when you and your friends entered your home on portland row you swore that you had never felt this exhausted before. not just physically, but emotionally as well.

you sat in the kitchen, drinking tea and trying to calm down from the mission that had nearly costed you your life. you all were silent, no one uttering a word. you watched as George and Lucy excused themselves and it was only you and your brother.

"it's late, Anthony, you should be asleep" you muttered, without raising your eyes to look at him. they were fixated on the cup before you. you could hear your brother huff

"you should be asleep as well, n/n"

"I don't think I can sleep tonight" you said quietly and you could feel his eyes soften

"what happened today was scary, if not the scariest thing that has happened since mum and dad.. and I feel worse than ever before, thinking that I could've prevented it"

"it wasn't your fault" you shook your head, your mind going back to the window and your hand, holding on for dear life, before Lucy and George had caught you the moment you had slipped. there wasn't as much as a cut on your palm, but it felt like there was a big scar this night had left on you, at least emotionally.

“don’t act like i’m just some stranger” he said, noticing your discomfort and that there was something else you weren’t telling him “it’s just me, you can tell me”

you breathed deep, noticing that there wasn’t any chance you could lie to him, he just knew you too well

“it’s just-“ you paused, thinking how to phrase it “i always feel so guilty, about being in dangerous situations, i know that i’m the only one you have left, you shouldn’t have to lose me too”

Anthony smiled softly “i feel the same all the time” he confessed “and i think that’s good, it gives us motivation to do all that we can to stay alive, because our life matters to other people. every time i’m out there, in those situations when i think it’s over, i think about you, George and Lucy and that helps me to keep going. no matter how bad a situation is, it would always be worse if i didn’t make it out”

“i’m sorry about what happened today” you said

“no one’s at fault, i’m just glad you’re still here”

“me too”

he leaned forward and hugged you, kissing you on the forehead “i’ll always make sure you’re safe”

“i will do the same for you” you promised “i’m glad you feel similar, i just feel so much better now”

“that’s the goal”

“i’ll keep away from windows from now on, god forbid i fall through one again”

“yeah, just imagine the funeral cost i’d have to tackle” you were glad that no matter the situation, Anthony was always able to slip back into his funny nature when the moment came

“you’re an idiot” you laughed slapping his hand away “when you die i’m gonna bury you in the garden”

“i’ll come back to haunt you if you do that”

“i’d like to see you try” you giggled, rushing out of the room, followed by your brother.

you were glad how everything went tonight. and that inside the walls of portland row, you would always have a family to think of before you went out and got in danger.

[telemna-hyelle]

Hyrule is a (redacted) au, sons of courage, still good. And Sandwich my beloved if you want.

Hyrule is a [redacted] AU is all about Hyrule being [redacted]! :D

Something I can say is that it revolves around a lot of Zelink. I actually have something published from this AU 😏 see if you can find it *wiggles eyebrows*

A snippet for you:

Legend had made the mistake of deciding he could multitask.

Or, to put it more clearly, Legend was impatient and, after running into the mailman early in the day while traveling, the veteran decided he didn’t want to wait any longer before reading his letter. So, he simply decided to read it while he walked.

This, as previously stated, was a mistake. He felt as if he was moving through a fog. A fog filled with several choice echoing phrases from Zelda’s letter, with one phrase in particular being the most prominent.

Sons of Courage!

The first chapter in the series of this AU is already published, in a fic titled 'Blood of Courage'! The basic premise is that Farore reincarnates as Link's mother every time.

“Wait, Legend didn’t raise his hand. What was his mother’s name?” Sky asked.

There was a beat of silence. Farona turned and looked at Legend, before shifting into another self and placing her hands on her hips.

“Link Faron Gustaf Daphnes the III!”

Legend flinched and turned red.

Everyone else’s mouth dropped open.

There was a moment of utter quiet, in which Warriors could be seen silently mouthing “Link Faron Gustaf Daphnes the III” with an ever-increasing grin.

Legend shot Farona a look of betrayal. It was completely ineffective, as he had betrayed her first.

“I take it that means his mother was a Farona, too.” Time said dryly.

“Quite.” Farona said haughtily. “One would think I would get a little more recognition after being in labor for sixty-three hours with him.” Legend blanched. Several of the other men went pale. Sky looked faintly green.

Still Good is my collection of interconnected oneshots from This is My Family, which is about the little family of Warriors, Artemis (as Sheik), Mask and Wind during the War of Ages

Still, in the amount of time it took Linkle to find her way to the war, certain… things had developed. Things which took Linkle very little time at all to pick up on.

In fact, it took her precisely one day, the precise time being breakfast the morning after she arrived. She sauntered up to Link’s cookfire in order to laugh at his helplessness in a leaf-callling-the-grass-green manner, before going to the cooks to beg for edible food for herself.

Instead, she came upon the scene of Link busily repairing a pile of torn and battered clothes, while Mask and Wind were crowded around Shiek at the stewpot, where the sheikah was very patiently trying to teach them to feed themselves.

Linkle took one look, grinned, and plopped down besides Link. Link knew that look; he’d lay down a purple that Linkle was Up To No Good and about to embark on antics aimed in his direction.

And a little snippety of Sandwich the beloved!

“Now,” Time said, drawing everyone’s attention back to him, where he sat enthroned upon his favorite armchair, “May I see this baby?”

“Pause my timer, guys,” Four muttered, and reluctantly stood up, shifting Zelly so she lay against his shoulder for easy carrying. It took a bit of time to get across the room, picking his way carefully through the scattered forms of college boys strew across the floor, but then he was passing the baby into Time’s experienced hands. In a twinkling, Time was holding Zelly up in front of him, eying her thoughtfully.

All the boys (and Artemis) held their breath.

Zelly blinked back at Time, and then broke into a wide smile, giggling and reaching tiny little fingers out towards the funny man with the colorful face.

Time grinned back, the look in his eyes softening, and bounced her up and down, prompting Zelly to burst into a series of happy squeals. “Well, it’s certainly nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Sandwich.”

Twilight smacked his forehead. “Dad, why.”

[danses-with-dogmeat]

could you do the “reaction to first time being shown affection” but with the new vegas/fo3 male companions as well?

Romanced! Male! FO3 Companions and the first time they’re shown soft forms of Affection

Here is some more fluff for all of you lovlies! Man, I love doing these sweet prompts so dang much 😅  Seriously, if there’s ANY characters you want to see for this that I haven’t done, please please please don’t hesitate to ask, cuz these reactions are just good for my soul (... or Sole, eh? Get it?).

Fallout New Vegas (M! Companions) reactions are also on the way for this prompt as well, and should be done soon! 

Butch:

     Lone's eyes fluttered open, taking in the sight of the darkened vault 101 bedroom as they stretched their legs from beneath the thin blanket with a small sigh. A blush spread to their face as they felt their partner stir beside them, repositioning himself onto his back, an arm thrown up over his head as a deep breath escaped his lips. They turned to get a better look at him, smiling slightly at how peaceful he looked. Eyes still closed, mouth dangling open slightly, hair tousled about every which way upon his head as it crushed into the pillow behind him. Lone just stared at him for a while,  their heart beating insistently in their chest as they thought back on the events of their first night together… them and Butch… who would've thought? 

They would have liked to pin it on the way he's changed over the years they've known him, because certainly ten-year-old Lone would have scrunched up their face in disgust at the idea of having a crush on the self-absorbed bully. But… truth is, Lone's always suspected that their feelings towards the fellow vault dweller had been more… complicated than simple hatred, or simple attraction. No, these feelings seemed to go deeper than that, even before, when they were kids and he would get on their nerves constantly, or in school when they were teens who frequently argued with each other, they knew there was something more at play between the pair, though they never would have admitted it at the time. Now though, they couldn't believe they had ever seen him any differently as they gazed tenderly at their partner through half-lidded eyes, filled to the brim with affection for the man that lay beside them.

Lone tentatively reached up a hand, not wanting to wake him, but needing to touch him. They brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, running their palm over the top of his head and smoothing down any stray strands that stuck out. Pausing their movements briefly, Lone brought themselves into a sitting position, keeping their side of the blankets up to cover their bare body as they scooted closer to him and reached their hands out towards his head again. Though his hair wasn't all that long, they rarely had the privilege of seeing it void of product, which often made it difficult to play with. Lone decided to take advantage of this instance. They took three separate strands between their fingers, crossing them over each other a few times before twisting the end, willing the little braid to hold its shape before moving to another section and doing the same. A smile spread on their lips as they carried on with their little movements, leaving a handful of tiny braids in the wake of their gentle hands as they continued listening to him snore softly below them. 

As they grew less fond of the braided look, Lone smoothed each one out and began to thread their fingers upwards, giggling at their work as the entirety of his fawn-colored hair stood straight up over his slackened expression. Now if only I had dad's camera…

Their ability to stifle their laughter weakened, preventing them from suppressing the snort that escaped from them; the sound effectively jolting their companion awake.

"What the…?" He shook his head, attempting to expel his grogginess as he realized what had woken him.

"Why are you...? Wait, what happened? You laughin' at me?"

Lone nodded as another snort escaped them, Butch's confused expression now acting as the source of their second bout of giggling.

"Why? What happened?" He looked down quickly, trying to conceal any bare part of him that peeked through the thin Vault-Tec issued blanket. A panicked flush creeping up his cheeks as he tried to find the source of their amusement.

"No, no, it's nothing like that." They assured him, grabbing at his face with their hands to bring his attention back to their eyes, "Here."

Lone made a motion upwards, to try and smooth his hair down to a reasonable height, but Butch's own fingers followed, brushing the substantial mountain of silky locks that stood at attention atop his head before they could fix what they'd done. His eyes widened as he realized what Lone had been laughing at, shaking his head in an attempt to loosen the upright strands.

"Oh, you think that's funny, do ya?"

Lone smiled at him, shrugging as they prepared to answer him with some smart-ass remark, but he was upon them before they could utter a word. Their partner tackled them, pressing his lips to theirs as he forced them downwards against the mattress where he pinned their arms up over their head. When he had firmly secured their wrists in his grip, he released them from the kiss, now staring down at them smugly, a glint of triumph playing in his stormy blue eyes. Lone's heart beat raggedly in their chest as they breathlessly gazed up at their lover as he held them down. Though, to their surprise, he pulled further away from them and released his grip on their wrists, quickly bringing his hands down to their sensitive sides. He pinched his fingers slightly as he ran them over their ribcage, causing them to erupt into a fit of unbridled laughter, writhing underneath his cruel ministrations as he grinned wildly at them.

“How’s that for funny, huh, wise guy?”

Charon:

     “Tell me something.” Lone stared up at the stars as they spoke, Charon’s stiff shoulder brushing their own as he lay beside them at the top of the parking structure, his shotgun still lying across his chest, held firmly in his grasp.

“What?” His gruff voice inquired. Lone couldn’t tell if he was being short with them because he was still unsure about spending the night at the top of the ruined concrete parking structure, or if it was because he genuinely didn’t understand their request, either way, they didn’t mind clarifying.

“Just, tell me something about yourself. You already know almost everything about me, and we’ve been together a few months now, and yet…” They trailed off, trying in vain to coax a proper response from their companion.

“What would you like to know?” Lone sighed softly, but smiled in spite of themself, shifting onto their side so they could look over at him. The ghoul was laying rigidly on his back, his eyes remained trained on the sky, as they had been since Lone suggested he quit keeping watch and just relax with them as they stargazed. Well, he stopped keeping watch, but I don’t think he ever got to the ‘relax’ part.

“Well… what do you want me to know about you?” They asked him, attempting to draw an answer from him without using a direct order. Ever since the two had become involved, Lone had felt uncomfortable with the idea of holding Charon's contract. Well, truth be told, they had always hated the idea of him being forced to obey their every whim and order because they held some torturous piece of paper, but now it felt especially immoral.

Silence fell over the pair as Charon struggled with Lone’s request, half of him wanting to abide by what they said and begin the process of opening up to the person he felt closest with, while the other half grappled with the phrasing of their question. The shadow of his officially void contract rendered his own preferences obsolete as the years of habit continued to keep him chained to the false comfort of his own complacency. He was never allowed to want before.

Lone gazed at him, noting the hard expression adorning his scarred face as the internal conflict raged between his temples. Charon’s pale blue eyes became obstructed as his brow furrowed, his jaw clenching as he ground his teeth in an effort to force his mouth to produce any words that could possibly provide an answer to Lone’s question.

The ghoul’s body shuddered as Lone extended their hand, sliding it over his chest before it came to rest atop one of his. They flexed their fingers, a suggestion to loosen his grip on the barrel of his shotgun, but he refused to budge. They kept the contact with him for a moment more, but as he showed no sign of yielding to their touch, they pulled away, rolling over onto their back once more.

Well, it was worth a try. Lone closed their eyes as their fatigue washed over them, remaining on the verge of consciousness as they awaited any response from their partner.

Instead of words, they felt a soft brush against their hand, and Lone peeked one eye open to witness the ghoul’s action as he pressed on, drawing his larger hand to rest over their own. Though the action was miniscule, Lone felt their breath catch in their throat as Charon slid his thumb over their skin soothingly. They hummed as a small grin graced their lips, shifting in his grasp so that they could entwine their fingers with his.

Lone’s expression dampened as they felt him pull away slightly, believing that perhaps they’d pushed their companion too far with their… official hand holding; but they were surprised as they felt his nails meet their wrist. He smoothed his fingertips up their arm slightly, before doubling back, capturing their hand fully in his own again. At that, Lone resumed their own comforting movements along his roughened skin. The ebb and flow of the pairs’ dancing hands seemed to coax something out of Charon, a sort of tenderness that Lone was otherwise unfamiliar with.

“I want… ” He started, and Lone held their breath, but continued running their fingers over his hand encouragingly.

“To tell you… it is no longer the contract that is binding me to you.” His movement against Lone ceased in his effort to continue speaking.

"At first, I did not think I would ever be able to separate myself from it. But now… the paper is obsolete. I'm loyal to you. I want you to know that."

Lone's heart leapt in their chest, as they felt tears of relief fill to the brims of their eyes. They couldn't say how long they'd been hoping to hear this from him, it was getting to the point that they thought they never would; that the dreadful scrap of parchment shackling Charon to his horrendous past would taint their relationship until the end of their days, but now…

A scarred finger brushed against Lone's cheek, capturing the tear that had escaped them in their moment of relieved contemplation. They turned their head, following his hand's retreat, and their eyes met his. A once stormy ocean now seemed to resemble a calm, pensive pool as he peered at them with a clarity he never thought he could have achieved.

Fawkes:

     Lone’s eyebrows drew upwards as they gazed sympathetically at the mutant. Fawkes was hunched over, his head buried in his large hands as small grunts of frustration pushed their way through his overlapping fingers. He’d been having flashbacks all day long, the brief snippets of his time as a human tormenting him in their fragmented incompleteness.

“Fawkes?” They tested. Lone hadn’t been able to rouse him from his state of anguish since the pair had returned to their Megaton home. Three hours ago. They rose from their chair, moving to sit beside him on the couch. Thus far, they had let him be, believing that the memories he was struggling with would either come back to him fully, or slip away from his grasp altogether, as they usually did. But this time they appeared to be more insistent and less comprehensible, rendering their companion aggravated and exhausted, and leaving Lone feeling utterly useless.

As they settled beside him, they brought a hand up to rest on his broad shoulder, feeling the pulsing tenseness of his muscle as his heavy breathing forced his shoulders to rise and fall raggedly.

“Hey,” They said softly, “I know it’s hard, but you have to try and let it go.” Lone brought their hands up to grasp at his, gently pulling them away from his scrunched up face.

“That’s not you anymore. You’re Fawkes.” They told him, looking into his strained eyes, “You’re free now, free from the vault, free from who you used to be, and free to make your own choices. To be your own kind of person.” Slowly bringing their hands down towards his lap, they continued holding onto them tightly as they tried to bring him back to reality, tried to ground him back in the present.

“You’re my closest friend, Fawkes, no matter who you were, I love you now. For who you are.” Lone’s words seemed to finally draw his attention to them, his weary eyes softening at the sight of them, as the present world around him seemed to solidify. They felt his hands squeeze theirs to the brink of being too tight, holding firmly enough to keep him tethered to this reality, and when they flexed their fingers beneath the intense pressure, he became aware of his actions, and ceased them. The mutant’s grip softened as he exhaled, finally letting his taut muscles relax beneath his ravaged, olive skin.

“That’s it. Welcome back.” Lone smiled up at him, their own relief evident in their softened expression. Fawkes slumped a little lower, his fatigue forcing his shoulders to slouch and his head to bow forwards, as he blinked away the last shreds of the past that stubbornly tried to linger in his mind. Lone saw his shrunken frame as an opportunity, and withdrew their hands gently from his grasp, bringing their arms up to wrap around his shoulders. The hug was a little awkward, with his position facing straight ahead on the couch and Lone seated beside him, not to mention his much larger frame, which proved to be difficult to fully embrace; but, after a moment, he managed to bring an arm around Lone in an effort to return the gesture, allowing them to sink further into the security of his chest.

The pair remained this way for a few moments, both pressing the other firmly to them as they relaxed into the contact and grew more comfortable. Fawkes was certainly unused to the action, but his contentment was palpable in the way he slowly gave into Lone’s touch, leaning his head against theirs and clutching at them just a bit tighter before finally slackening and pulling away.

“Thank you, Lone. It is hard to feel… lost for such a long time.” His usually gruff voice came out like tattered silk as it was softened by the emotion accompanying it, and they couldn’t help but notice as Fawkes’s hand remained settled over their shoulder, still seeming to steady himself with the unwavering contact.

“Lone, how am I ever going to repay your kindness when you continue to assist me in so many ways each and every day? Your friendship is truly unparalleled.” Lone smiled at that, chuckling slightly at the sincerity of his words.

“Some people just… need more help than others.” They told him, “I’m happy to keep helping you every day, even if you can never repay me for it. That’s what people do when they care about each other, Fawkes. Love isn't a commodity to be bought and sold, at the expense of one and the gain of another; it’s something you reciprocate on your own terms, something you give to yourself and others without condition or expectation of gaining anything in return.”

Fawkes nodded his head slowly, eyes unfocused as he thought through Lone’s words.

“If that’s the case… Then, right now, I vow to love you as you say I should. Unconditionally. And hopefully that will be enough.”

Jericho:

     The ex-raider collapsed with a groan, burying his head, face first, into the plush pillows atop their mattress. His rifle and bits of armor were strewn throughout the Tenpenny apartment, and Lone strolled behind him, trying to kick his things into a somewhat organized pile as they too tried to make themself more comfortable. 

Bits of armor clattered to the floor as Lone made their way to their shared bed, smiling exasperatedly at their companion, stretched across the entirety of the mattress, preventing them from settling beside him.

  I’m tired too, you know. They thought, releasing a puff of air as they considered how to go about solving this little problem of theirs. Lone tried dropping their bag beside the bed, the loud thud sounding as close to his ear as they could get it without physically hitting him with the sack, but Jericho didn’t even flinch. They clicked their tongue, peering around the room as they searched for a way to rouse him. As Lone started towards their shelves lining the wall of the hotel room, eyes set on the plethora of miscellaneous items they might be able to use to their advantage, a raucous snore erupted from within the plushness of their pillow-clad mattress. Lone groaned, turning about to face him before starting back towards the bed. Fine, you don’t want to make room for me? I’ll make it work anyways.

Lone approached the unconscious ex-raider, poking at the firmness of his back, testing, before hopping up in the air to land, stomach-first, on top of their companion. 

“What the shit?! The fuck you think you’re doing?” He grumbled through the thick fabric.

“Just making myself comfortable.” Lone shifted their hips and shoulders, settling themself more firmly onto Jericho’s back. 

“And you’re expectin’ me to put up with this shit?” He lifted his head, straining his neck to glare back at them questioningly. 

“I really don’t see what you can do about it, old timer.” Lone leaned forward, digging an elbow into the back of his ribcage as they brought their mouth to his ear. They felt him tense at the pressure, bringing one of his arms back awkwardly as he tried to find a grip on them. Lone swatted his hand away with theirs, leaning onto their other side to avoid his flailing limb. As he felt their weight shift, Jericho twisted his body in an attempt to overturn them, but Lone instead decided to bring their arms around his shoulders, clinging to him so that their body shifted with his as he tried to roll them off. 

“Mother fucker--” Lone began to giggle at his frustrated growls, as he rose, propping himself up on his elbows, with Lone still gripping him firmly, arms wrapped tight across his chest. He paused his thrashing, and Lone felt him shifting his head downwards, extending his neck to reach for something with his mouth… 

“Ow-- Hey!” Jericho took a part of their wrist into his mouth, biting down hard, causing their grip to loosen, and at the opportunity, he decided to throw himself backwards onto the mattress, effectively crushing Lone beneath him. They felt the breath get knocked out of them as he landed, now settling himself on top of them, grinding the back of his head into their chest in an effort to make himself more comfortable in the most obnoxious way possible. 

Well… that could have gone better, but hey, at least now I’m on the bed. 

“Alright, you win.” They said, their voice coming out strained due to the pressure on their lungs. 

“Damn right I do. Old timer… fuck you.” Lone laughed at that, reveling in the way he took their name calling so seriously. 

“Alright, alright. I get the point, can you get off me now?” 

“Nah. I think I like this. It’s real comfortable. Think I’ll just sleep this way.” Lone groaned at him, trying weakly to tousle him off their body before giving up with a loud sigh, being sure to blow their hot breath of frustration straight onto the top of his head. They felt his body shudder. 

“Fuckin’ fine, little tike, I’ll get off.” 

“Uck, don’t call me that.” Lone said as he rolled off of them, falling onto the mattress at their side. They peered over at him to see his reaction, pleased at the dark-eyed glare that bore into them, a glint of humor shining in their depths. 

“Look, I’m allowed to complain,” They told him, shifting onto their side so they could see him better. “You friggin’ bit me.” The ex-raider smiled deviously at that.

“Hmm. Yeah, I did. And I’m about to do it again.” With that, he lunged at them, an arm wrapped around their waist to hold them in place as his teeth met their neck. 

“Hey! What the--?” A moment later, the sharp pain dissolved away and was replaced by something soft as Jericho pressed his lips to the tender spot, soothing over the mark he had left. Lone’s eyes fell closed as his mouth moved up to their jaw, peppering kisses as it moved across their jawline to their chin, before finally drawing upwards to meet their lips. 

“I hope you know.” Lone heard him say as he pulled away from them, “This ain’t over yet.” They felt the mattress shift as he collapsed back onto it, and they smiled at his words, scooting closer so they could throw an arm over his stomach as they pressed their head to the crook beneath his shoulder. Lone meant to say something cheeky in response, but before they could utter a word, they felt themself dissolve into sleep as the soft sound of Jericho’s snores filled their ears.

Here is the original post with the Fallout 4 M!Companions

Here is the post with Fallout New Vegas M!Companions

[bemylord]

todo finding out that his s/o is takada-chan’s younger sister

rq: Hey Ny👋 i would like to request something. Can you write a Drabble about Todo finding out that his s/o is Takada-chan’s younger sister? I thought it would be funny, you don’t have to do this but I appreciate it.🙏

characters: aoi todo x fem!reader.

warnings: just todo being overdose with his s/o and takada-chan. it's super fondness and funny + au. my grammar mistakes.

butler's remark: (^◕ᴥ◕^) hello lord, it's me with a fluff work as you might see. did his s/o a todo's type: man has a booty kink [if there is one], in any case, it's a short sketch. also, i couldn't find todo's image like gojo's one or itadori's so i apologize.

disclaimer: everything you read is purely my opinion - any detail, sketch, or event is a figment of my imagination.

you knew your boyfriend was is a huge fan of your older sister, that's why you kept hiding your 'secret' from todo. not because he'd a clingy and be asking to get acquainted with her. you were waiting 'till your sister will have a concert whilst todo will be on the mission - what a shame to be probably on the other side of town when your idol is performing - the probability of such a coincidence is extremely small, but not equal to zero.

like now, when takada has her performance, todo is fighting over the special grade cursed spirit. he couldn't do anything but to exterminate the monster, so he could watch the takada's concert.

a few hours after your sister's concert, when your lover showed up on the doorstep of the house.

'i missed the concert. it was a rare occasion, it-' todo is standing in the door frame, sobbing as he missed the concert his idol. you never mentioned you like her or watching takada's shows on the screen, therefore, todo has to impress you with her. /if he knew she is your sister/

aoi todo - as i mentioned before - would be freak around you when nobody sees: his hands will wrap your waist all time, mostly in the evenings as both of you will be watching tv, but in reality, neither todo nor you ain't seeing what on the screen, mainly, you give each other warmth and hugs.

todo upset as he couldn't show you her concert. he sits on the couch in the living room, tossed his head.

'i wanted to bring you to the concert, so afterward we could have the memory'

'aoi..'

'whose concert?'

takada's head peeked out from behind the door frame leading into the kitchen as she came into the room with her stage persona [?]. todo is sitting there, looking at you, at her, not knowing what's going on.

'y/n, do you see what i see?'

you looked at your older sister, giggled. todo laid his elbows on his knees, put a chin on his fist, speculating on the situation. even being a grade first sorcerer, his brain is mushy as his capability to think straight is lost. todo could calculate a masterful plan of how to beat the spirit but at this moment, he doesn't know what to say.

'my hallucination probably played out, there is no percentage to takada-chan being here and even had spoken'

'do you think i'm not real?'

aoi's brain starts to work as the idol came to the sorcerer, dramatically pouted her lips. the moment of realization of what's happening dawned on him, as light pink blush is dotted on his cheeks, as he almost jumped off the couch.

't-takada-chan, i.. you real? certainly, you ain't fake, just..'

todo is dawned by a sudden feeling, which is hard for him to describe - such an unplanned meeting with an idol unquestionably makes him impossible to talk. even tho he's a sorcerer, ranged first which means he's powerful and astute when it comes to finding the best plan to exterminate the cursed spirit.

'i've been all ears about you - y/n told me that you're the strongest among your students. i am glad that my sister is dating someone powerful and kind like you, todo-san'

have you ever seen someone red like a tomato? well, now you've got an opportunity to have a look - the side of aoi probably you and takada allowed to see is when he's as happy as a child, the full teeth smile [?] that will not leave his face until the end of the evening, he will illuminate the room.

'don't call me todo-san, it's aoi. you're my girlfriend sister, i feel uncomfortable for you to use the formal'

the second question - have you ever seen someone being battle-crazed meathead and willing to demolish everyone but actually melty ice cream and sugary? my answer is simple - aoi todo.

all evening todo had been listening to your sister's stories with admiration in his eyes, peeping at you with those practically puppy eyes as if they're reading: 'thank you, honey'. todo kinda complacent - not everyone has got a chance to talk to the idol like aoi does.

throughout the evening the little and cute blush on his dimpled cheeks staying as if that's how it should be. out of a significant and fearsome man remained a small, purring cat, if you can characterize him that way.

'takada-chan, may i-'

'call me takada, aoi'

'takada.. may you give me taka-tan beam, please?'

at last, before leaving your house, your older sister looked back at todo's request, as if she was waiting 'till he uttered the phrase. she let out a cheerful but quiet chuckle.

'here i go' as if at that meeting when todo had time to come [he probably missed the class to see your sister], still he gets tensed when takada cleared her throat a little.

at first, she clenched her left hand in a small fist, covering her face with a curve of her elbow, next swiftly closed left eye, bringing the index and middle finger toward her eye with the back of his hand to the todo and you, pronouncing, likely the most favorite phrase taka-tan.

'here you go, aoi. i had the pleasure of meeting my sister's boyfriend. goodbye, thanks for the invitation, y/n!'

you smiled as a response, closed the door whilst todo is still speechless.

'oi, y/n, why you didn't choose to be an idol? therefore i'd be your huge fan number one'

'i've chosen another way. but, if i'll be the idol like my sister, hm~ i'll have the huge crowd of fanboys, who'd like to steal my heart'

he wanted to respond but instead of saying, todo wrapped his arms around your body, kissing your forehead.

'i'm glad that you're only mine, y/n. i love you'

you smacked your lips against his as your hands are holding his cheeks.

'..maybe i should be an idol after all..'

'and show your boot- your body to every boy? i'm not allowed you, you. are. mine!'

what is going to be next? well, you'll spend the night in todo's arms as he'll tell you, probably thousand and one quotes why you're his and why he loves you. that fondness of his is unforgettable.

(☆ω☆)

butler recommends you to see this video of todo meets takada-chan and taka-tan beam. hope it's fluff and kinda funny, sorry if it's not. also that cute moment in the end, i think it was UwU.

[?] - correct if i'm wrong.

↳ back to the main master list.

[sugar-petals]

:: random things about boyfriend yoongi

↳ ♡ NOTE I saw this format floating around the fandom and thought it was cool and sweet (just like our honey boy so here it goes) 😊  includes an sfw and nsfw bit, both can be read independently.

words. 3k

SFW

First off, Yoongi is laid-back and casually sexy the way we know him. But he also has spikes of energy where he actually gets a little clingy. Any opportunity he will use to hold hands or jump around like a madman with his gummy smile because he got excited about something that you never could predict would make him so happy. He truly is an epiphany.

He’s your most eager personal chef but funnily enough a little unsettled by onions so you end up helping him. Yoongi hates to be crying in the kitchen because of some evil little vegetable but hey, perfect time and place to spend half an hour huddled together cooking or baking. And Yoongi is secretly longing for a cheesy scene, he finds it romantic when you wipe the tears from his face.

His way of speaking to you is a mix of mumbly Korean, high-pitched pouty cat speak, and old-school English slang phrases that he learned somewhere on social media or award shows back in 2018. Most of the time he takes things seriously but is up for some joking anyway. He is sure to giggle every now and then which is really adorable of him. Yoongi is also the person who gets every nuance of your humor and reacts to it.

After being single, you really have to get used to someone waddling around the house. Like— oh, he’s there! And it’s none other than him! Since Yoongi isn’t noisy when he concentrates on his laptop, it really stands out when he morphs from his unmovable rock-like being to a slow rolling stone headed towards the kitchen from time to time. You have to blink every time. And how could you not look up, he’s walking by with his cutest oversized sweaters and striped fluffy socks.

He cannot hide things that normal people would try to keep secret — because of their own discomfort, but he is good at blocking out things that serve your comfort. I’ll explain what I mean. If you have been keeping up with Yoongi postponing the reveal of his surgery until it was successful, you know what I mean. In short, Yoongi is pretty much an automatic filter for things that disturb you. Knowing the right time and place to inform you is the key. As is disregarding things that don’t concern you as a couple, unnecessary drama and opinions. He’s really good at that without ever trying to sugar-coat the important things because he remains a frank and honest soul.

Yoongi has an easier time giving random presents for simple occasions rather than making a big deal out of traditional festivities. So, big celebrations are often kept simple — unless the rest of BTS is there advocating their ‘a little party never killed nobody’ motto — while Yoongi focuses on getting you something attentive or useful every other day pretty much. He’s still a frugal type, you know him. It’s more about inexpensive things that catch his eye because he heard you likes this or that type of snack or want this or that sofa cushion. 

There’s always something new and surprising in the fridge and it’s hardly ever empty because Yoongs takes care of the groceries, really thinking it through. Just personal chef things. Being Yoongi’s partner must be the most destressing thing. He takes responsibility for the worldly things, the ironing clothes and the trash cans. He himself thinks that’s the easiest shit ever and is ready to put time into it (he sees the merit, it drives him) while thinking your side — the sheer act of being in love with him, being there for him — must be hard. Which it isn’t. 

Yoongi thinks emotions and relationships are tough and complicated while daily life runs smoothly at the snap of a finger. You think maintenance is a drudgery while love is not the maze your boyfriend assumes it is. Deep down Yoongi thinks he’s unlovable and a bad person, that’s why he believes he doesn’t have the burden but you have. That your affection then blazes past the barriers in Yoongi’s esteem is something that he finds incredible. It catches him off guard there, you burst the bubbles of the flaws he falsely imagines he has.

You bet your ARMY bomb you’re watching cat videos together.

Guess who’s the first person to hear all of Yoongi’s upcoming hit tracks? Even Namjoon gets the first sample ten minutes later. You gotta be really advanced at keeping secrets and avoiding accidental leaks with your phone or something.

Yoongi hesitates with the analogy because it’s a little funny and you’re evidently not a steaming liquid made of beans, but he claims you really are like his daily americano. Makes his every morning better. 

Now, in all seriousness. What means the most to him is that you take him how he is and are stable company. Yoongi is afraid of betrayal and stupid games so he has to be sure to have a safe bet going. I think that’s why he fancies marriage, it’s a sign of commitment and some degree of permanence to him. And yes, he is a bit jealous in nature since he’s easily invested in someone with a purity of feeling, almost in a naive way. Yoongi easily idolizes his partner and puts a lot of energy into a bond. He wants to protect that, take the risk, and he has watched for someone who radiates genuine trust and faith. He is sure to have found it in you without any illusions and he is right. Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty.

Playing the piano for dinner or date night is a must, he practices constantly to advance to a great standard. He secretly finds a lot of satisfaction in you cooing at his skills and melodies. Those ten bony fingers gliding over the keys with such a technicality and focus, and a passion that makes you hold your breath, it’s great to watch.

Did you see that one coming? He will compose and produce a designated mixtape only for you personally. Yes, with a little self-filmed, self-cut music video for the title track. 

Now those things never see the light of day, they’re all for you. But what about your couple life once it touches the social realm? As one might expect, Yoongi is very ‘eyes turn narrow’ with people who bring disharmony to your dynamic and the relationship in general. In fact, he is grumpy and disappointed, and should someone give him a reason, distinctly brutal. If someone even attempts to test you or plays manipulative games, Yoongi is relentlessly turning them from the inside out with his words that never miss the mark. They’re efficient. As I said, he hates playing annoying games, he’ll do any shortcut and be Yoongi.

I guarantee you can lean back and will never the fazed by stupid people and time wasters again. No need to lose face. Yoongi does the dirty work and is the best possible defender to have on your side. He handles that. Invasive opinions and useless phrases he will shove right up some trashtalker’s ass and leave. Let’s squarely say he is unafraid to be a armchair critic of your and his haters and doesn’t want any of that nuisance to disturb what you have together. He cuts very quick and makes sure not to get tangled up in trouble.

Yoongi will also debunk a whole bunch of weirdos on weverse asking about your private love while he’s at it. Prepare for some very entertaining snide remarks. Oh my god, so many entitled people will be pissed off. Many will also celebrate him for stepping up. What’s actually important to Yoongi is that nobody taints what is like a treasure to him.

It won’t be hard to overlook that Yoongi is very proud of you as well. He looks confident and revering when he hangs out with the group and you’re somewhere close by, even just doing something trivial.

He’s also pretty touchy, sometimes publically to demonstrate something, but mostly in the relative calm and safety of a hotel room. When the lights are out, all barriers crash, the utter romantic takes over. His favorite types of kisses besides those onto his hands are when you kiss his lashes. And yep. Yoongs is such a cozy little spoon. A very curled up one with cute shooky pajamas on most likely.

Talk about clothes. Believe it or not, Yoongi’s fashion goes through a significant change due to the relationship. He knows that you are touchy and thinks about what kinds of flannels are the biggest cuddle magnet, after all. And oh wonder, he will also show some level of skin when he accidentally hears your praises for his arms and legs and collar bones and glowy skin while talking to a close friend of yours. So, look forward to that in summer (he still dislikes the winter cold and wraps himself into scarves twice his size, mind you) though it’s still for your eyes only, he covers up when going out. Truth be told, he enjoys when you casually touch his skin. Especially the arms. Which hold up the firmament to you, and your world, too, and guard it.

BTS will know about how excited he is about you because he often boasts about for how long you’ve been living together by now. We all know this is Yoongi’s favorite way of bragging and it further shows that loyalty, dedication and longevity is the spice to his every meal.

Yoongi is probably going to quit the bottle because you naturally make him feel at ease and upbeat. In fact, he simply forgets about his wine. I don’t have to convince you that Yoongi will be very immersed in any interaction with you whether that be watching movies or discussing his latest tracks. 

Those discussions come with extra back massages for him because he spends a lot of hours in his chair. Especially around the neck, it’s no secret that this is in every cat’s top 3 favorite massaging areas. Yoongi is gonna make some really raspy, sleepy sounds and just melt in your hands. He’s gonna sleep like a baby afterwards every time. Sometimes, he says funny and cute things while he dozes. He looks very content.

Say goodbye to the 21st century adulting annoyances in your life because Yoongi has a grip on those without a word. Those six specific chores that always plague you take him only a dozen minutes and he is eager, the forms to fill out are already sent off, the list of people to e-mail is weeded through. The taxes are paid, the bank account is full, the meals are on the table, garnished to perfection. Roof over the head, and it’s a sturdy one, Yoongi bought a sound haven house to inhabit a lot of happiness for two. 

He’s probably the only person who doesn’t see it as a loss of dignity if you want to hold on tight to him during a dentist visit as a grown ass mf. Why all of this? Yoongi cannot not strive to feel needed in his actions. He wouldn’t like himself if he couldn’t contribute something reliable and useful. That you find things worthy of your time is priority. You complement each other, what you think is a waste of energy makes him work and strive and vice versa. That way, in the end all things are taken care of.

Giving is more important than taking in Yoongi’s world. He thinks of everything because he considers it an offense to have you in a pile of duties, that is, if you don’t like ‘em. It’s his form of dedicating his efforts and showing respect. He doesn’t need much in return. The things he expects if at all don’t feel like a duty: Much like he doesn’t consider doing those acts of services for you likewise.

Work horse he is, he needs something on his daily to-do plan. Which includes making you feel unbothered by the occasions of an incoming strict world when it’s getting to you. You’re supposed to do what you feel like doing just like him and not slave away at fifty deeds. That you torture yourself with daily life hassle is the thing he dislikes seeing the most. He enjoys doing these things so he’s happy to get going.

What’s not a daily life hassle: Holly is a big fan of yours. Instant friendship. Just wanted you to know.

He always knows how to preoccupy himself and finds something to improve. Getting on your nerves, and that’s no surprise, is the last thing Yoongi will ever do. In fact, you sometimes have to search for his napping spot because he got lost somewhere in the house. 

He either sleeps or works, his philosophy is simple. If you need him, he does appear seemingly out of nowhere. And, he spends as much time with you as you enjoy, not always prioritizing his producing unless it’s urgent or he’s on an inspiration streak. Which is great anyway, you can sit next to him listening. It’s the right balance of work and play.

Yoongi is not above blatantly showing off. Actually, he goes for an act of stunning pretty often. You know how cats parade around whatever they just caught. He wants to impress you with assets and accolades and appraisals, the boy can’t help it. That you only lightly nod at most of it with a little smile will confuse him but he will get the point later on. You wanna signal Yoongi that you anchor your love for him not in shifting numbers and chunky metal pieces. 

That you don’t confuse his signs of outward worth and fame with the core of the guy you find the sweetest in the world is very important to him. He will take some time to see through that because he’s used to being loved through status and its symbols by people close and afar. 

The way you throw yourself at him to give a big smooch in random situations — especially when he doesn’t feel great about himself— rather than only when he say gets a new car is sending him a message. Again, he has to grow into that. He will retreat at the beginning because he feels worthless of your affection on days where he doesn’t feel big and bold and successful. But since he sees you jumping on him because you need only his kind and squishy presence and see him as no different than usual because he’s always Yoongi underneath, your boyfriend will change his mind about it sooner or later. He learns that your presence makes him feel like a billion dollars yourself.

You don’t wallow in the regrets of other people missing the point of Yoongi and instead focus on always understanding him rather than enabling Yoongi into wrong directions. And there are many of those, his mental health can tell you a thing or two about it. He begins to get that you really know what you’re doing and are in it for the real him which makes him feel really loved far underneath all surfaces and images. You accept his fame and admire his work with music which is what he’s truly doing it for but also don’t forget that the most vulnerable Yoongi is the one that you’re there for and not a facade.

NSFW

I know you’re curious. That Yoongi’s sexual style is more than just interesting goes without saying. To give you an idea. Anything steamy with Yoongi means him taking his time. You know, for making it quality. Yoongi wants to grow into the right balance of activity and staying relaxed. He is good at keeping cool and bringing some focus to the madness. He wants to figure out how to be more casual instead of tense and overly preoccupied which he’ll be at the start of the relationship. But the fast learner he is, his nervousness fades way faster than you think. 

Yoongi is extremely afraid that he can’t please you or starts to become awkward slash clueless so he darts to the opposite of the spectrum and overperforms, even plays a character. You have enough cool yourself to tell him what to do in the pace that works best. That he stays centered in his body is important for you to teach him. When he gets grounded and juggling his confidence is out of the equation, he fucks the best.

His favorite position besides giving oral — with you on your back — will be doggy style. Man, we gotta talk about that. Slow to upper moderate pace, nothing too all over the place. Yoongi moans very slowly, too, all drawn out. Get ready for a frequent session of some anal to unwind. You heard that right. First, Yoongi will get the two of you into the right rhythm with his hands at the sides of your waist, then, ride it out in slow mo with his right hand properly stimulating you from the front. 

By habit, he will add some lube here and there but not use insanely dripping amounts so everything gets messy or he can’t touch you without sliding off anymore. Just enough to slide well. Yoongi is so good at this I swear, it’ll be your favorite thing to relax. He has the restraint and technique to pull it off rather than pulling out, huh. Yoongi is gonna stay inside you for ages. It feels like he’s massaging every spot for some extra time. It’s amazing to slack off your muscles, cool off, and get many a gentle but fulfilling orgasm. 

He’s not gonna put you through the hassle of dealing with an anal creampie cleanup so he keeps it wrapped, and mostly focuses on your movements altogether while keeping his own climax smooth and more relieving rather than something that relentlessly knocks him out in one go. Yoongi is good at observing and doesn’t feel the need to chase a violent high which is why he is so great at sex. Fucking with Yoongi leaves a wholesome feeling and you never feel ashamed or guilty, or a sense of being dirty and ruined. 

He enjoys having sex to make you feel really good and works his hands on you very respectfully. His goal is to have you wet and pulsing after a long while of getting you there, and putting you to a good night’s sleep. He’d feel terrible if he left you sore or disturbed. He is really passionate, especially with his kisses or when you ask him to slide into very deeply, but Yoongi being brash and controlling is an image out of sight.

Besides giving you the number one heavenly assfucks, Yoongi also likes to work his tongue as we know, and he’ll work it all over. Few body parts of yours have not made contact with that glorious mouth and I say that in the best of ways. You can instruct him to do whatever, Yoongi obliges with radiant joy. And here again, he takes minutes upon minutes. Kissing and kissing and licking and maybe even teasing once or twice to make you smile. You know, a little signature wink. Honoring your skin and every shape is not something that Yoongi has to talk about, he will physically show it and I swear it’ll finally get into your head with every little move, Yoongi has totally surrendered his tongue to your body and worships it.

[shokobuns]

green light.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

GENRE: angst, smut, gatsby au

WORD COUNT: 2.9k+

WARNINGS: smut (17+), angst, major character death, size kink, unprotected sex, implied overstim, praise

NOTES: this is for @erensbunny's collab! thanks for betaing @mitsuluv <3

Miles away from your own household, there’s nothing and no one.

Only a flower field that stretches beyond the horizon, the hues of orange and purple in the sky, round sunglasses and a picnic blanket. It’s miles of pink and green, far from family fortune, far from status, far from your own obligations. Places like these were too few and far between, but it doesn’t matter because life hasn’t started and there was nothing to tie you down just yet.

He interlocks his fingers with yours, bringing the back of your hand to his lips while you giggle, staring into his cerulean eyes. Your sundress stops at your ankles, ruffles following down in a pattern, and his button up fits loosely around his torso, the first few undone revealing his pale chest. His other hand comes up to caress your cheek, causing you to pull the brim of your hat down to hide your face, but he swats it away, wanting to admire your flushed cheeks.

The sunset perfectly illuminates your skin and while there was nothing to separate the two of you just yet, there will be something that does. And so, he treats every moment as if it was the last, memorizing the creases of your face when you smile, the pearls complimenting your skin, the sound of your laughter. You, on the other hand, don’t think much about what’s to come. Because for right now, you feel too much love, too much to the point where it clouds your thoughts of the future.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Satoru.”

A small phrase that can only be uttered when you’re miles away, a place where it is just you and Satoru and you and Satoru only. And while you can fall into the rabbit hole of what they would think and what they would do and what might happen, you can also enjoy the way Satoru kisses down your neck, how he gently lays you down on the floral picnic blanket and hikes up your long dress.

A bright past and a dark present.

Both of you are miles away, yes, but not together.

Satoru faces the dark present in which you’ve slipped through his fingers and into the arms of Naoya Zenin. The dark present in which you have it all, a husband, a daughter, and a house to call your own while he is simply just a lonely man in a large, empty mansion. Even when he can see the green light flashing just across the bay, you still feel far away.

Despite the distance, he’s thankful that he gets the chance to see you at all, watching his neighbor and quickly introducing himself as the owner of the house. It was one party after another after another after another and at this point he’s lost count of how many dollars were spent on this single hope—the hope that you’d show up someday and he found it in his new neighbor.

You still remember that night that you ripped off your necklace, gorgeous and costing hundreds at the least, the pearls clattering on your hardwood floors, a tear stained letter—it was all so vivid. Drowning in your own sorrow and missed opportunity, the stench of alcohol on you and your bedsheets, it was not a night you would like to remember. Mostly because it reminds you of what you could have had and stirs up feelings of regret that makes you sick to your stomach every time you see your husband.

His face, chiseled perfectly and flat hair, sharp eyes and soft lips. When you wake up in the mornings and see his face, it only brings you disappointment. But the sound of your daughter’s feet pitter pattering through the hallways somewhat makes up for it. She doesn’t look like him and you thank whatever higher power is up there that she doesn’t. With wide set eyes and chubby cheeks, you only wish her an easy life where she can do the same—be a fool—but this time, with a man she loved.

Cradling her in your arms made the dark present not so dark. And your younger cousin being nearby only brightened it up just a little bit more.

What a lovely boy, inviting you over for tea. You had missed him in the years he was gone and it would be nice to escape the house once in a while. With a simple purple dress and pearl earrings, you’re out the door and into the car. After a silent fifteen minute drive, the driver stops in front of a quaint cottage, lively green grass and flowers growing along the little columns. The area surrounding his house is perfectly neat, trimmed, and organized. Already, you can tell the interior would be pleasing to the eye.

Megumi comes out of the house, politely walking you to his door and keeping you dry as the rain poured down onto the two of you. Just as you expected, the interior is just as beautiful, varieties of flowers on almost every surface, the colors complimenting each other. You stare, admiring the whites, the yellows, and the pinks of each petal, thankful that your little cousin went to such lengths for a small visit.

“Did you ransack a greenhouse, Gumi?”

He’s silent, still at the door, but you hear a small chuckle. “You know, it’s funny.”

“What’s funny?”

Just as the words leave your mouth, there’s a knock on his door and goes up to answer it. You go back to admiring the flowers for a few more seconds, but you feel a presence behind you and turn around only to be met with a man in a white suit, matching his newly styled hair, blue eyes piercing through you with an intense gaze, his sunglasses in hand. You’re frozen in place and your feet are unable to lift from the ground, but he takes a few hesitant steps towards you, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“Well, I’m certainly glad to be seeing you again.”

With that, he smiles, “I’m certainly glad to be seeing you, as well.”

“It’s… beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. But how do you live here all alone?”

“I don’t. It’s always full of interesting people.”

Every single shrub is neatly trimmed, water flows gently in the fountain, flowers blooming in the garden. The mansion is huge, too big for only one person, and pristine on both the inside and the outside. The first place Satoru takes you is out on the water where you sit by him, a drink in your hand, Megumi taking pictures of the scenery and the people around him. He holds out his hand for you to hold as you try to steady yourself on the float, a drink in one hand and the other holding onto his shoulder.

“Smile.” You hear Megumi say, but you’re far too busy with Satoru tickling your sides, squirming as he coos small teases. The camera clicks, capturing the both of you in the moment.

When he brings all of you back inside his home, you’re in awe of the sparkling chandelier hanging from his ceiling, the gold lining the walls of the second floor, the sturdy architecture, shiny black and yellow floors. It’s a contrast from what you would have expected from Satoru who was once a humble soldier, plucking from your bedroom in the night and bringing you to a faraway place just to escape. You were once ready to accept the reality that status set the two of you apart, but now you wonder if it even is an issue.

But you’re old money and he’s new money.

How did he acquire all of this? His house? His clothes? The entirety of his wealth? You’re not exactly sure, but you don’t let your mind wander, opting to run up the grand white staircase, getting to the second floor only to be met with a black floor so spotless that you can see your own reflection. Along with Megumi, he follows behind you, watching every single movement and every single expression on your face. Eventually, he catches up next to you, motioning for you to follow him into a room with a single bed and another small set of stairs, rambling about where he gets his clothes.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” You reply, excitedly looking around the room where there’s countless shelves, all full of fabrics. “They’re so beautiful.”

He smiles at you from above, beginning to pull the clothing from the shelves and throwing them down for you to see. You giggle, a wide smile plastered on your face as different pinks, whites, and purples take over your vision. “Satoru, you’re gonna ruin them!”

He’s careless, letting half of his wardrobe fly out in the air and you struggle to catch them all, falling over into the bed. You’re elated, the variety of clothing making you squeal in delight as you jump onto the mattress, sitting in the middle, surrounded by fabric of different patterns and colors. You’re buried in them and he doesn’t stop until the sound of your laughter starts to die down. His chest fills with concern as he races down the stairs to comfort your disoriented figure on the bed.

Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, sliding down your cheeks and soon you feel his fingers come down to your chin to turn your head towards him. Although, you avoid eye contact, not wanting to confront the reality that it’s been five years. “Hey, shhh,” he coos, his voice softening, “What’s wrong, bunny?”

It’s a loaded question and you already have the answer in your head, on the tip of your tongue, but the more you think, the more you realize that there isn’t a right way to express it to Satoru. A daughter, a husband that you supposedly love, a life supported by old money. Five years away from the love of your life only for him to randomly appear back into your life during a time of stability. And even with your vague knowledge of Naoya’s mistress, you’re the perfect wife for him, foolish and obedient.

But still, your heart is drawn to Satoru—it always has been and it always will be.

“It— It makes me sad…” you reply with a meek voice, “The shirts… they’re just so beautiful.”

He chuckles, kissing the side of your head.

“Fuck! Satoru—” you squeal, his leaking tip prodding at your slit. It’s all familiar, but it doesn’t make it any easier to take him. After five years apart, you forget how big he is, veins running down the side of his pretty cock, long and heavy against your inner thigh. You’ve already lost how many times he’s made you cum on his mouth, your overstimulated cunt aching for more.

“I got you,” he mutters, rubbing your pearl in lazy circles as he pushes in, slowly filling you up inch by inch, “S-So big—”

‘“Yeah?” he coos, maintaining a bruising grip on your hips, “I’m barely halfway in. Just hold on, bunny.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face as he tries to distract with more kisses on your cheeks, gently brushing them away with his thumb. Your hole stretches to take him, splitting in half until you feel his tip kissing your cervix. His mouth latches onto your breast, his hips moving in slow strokes, his hands rubbing reassuring circles on the side of your thigh. “Such a good bunny,” he praises, “Pretty girl.”

“Mhm,” you squeak, feeling him as he starts to fasten the pace, wet squelches echoing throughout the entirety of the bedroom, “I- I missed you.”

“I missed— fuck!— you,” he replies, groaning at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. A string of drool connects his mouth to your nipple, drunk on your pussy, becoming more and more mindless as your cunt sucks him in. The pain of him stretching you out subsides, replaced by the heat building up in your lower tummy. His cock drags against your gummy walls, his fingers interlacing with yours as he fucks into you, juices flowing from your folds down to the white sheets.

“Say you love me,” he whispers against your lips, your eyes half lidded and mind empty, “Please…”

Your eyes open only slightly, making out cerulean eyes with blown out pupils, your own fingers threading through messy white hair, “I— I love you,” you reply, your mind hazy with lust, “Fuck, give it to me. Satoru, please—”

He kisses your bottom lip, knowing exactly what to do, his thrusts becoming harder and erratic, warm skin slapping against yours, balls tightening as he gets closer and closer to his high. His cock is covered in milky white and your grip on his hand tightens at the same time he can feel you squeezing around him like a vice, the coil snapping in your tummy. He brings his lips to yours, swallowing your moans.

“Hold on for a little while longer, bunny. For me, alright?”

You nod as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before fastening his pace, pounding against your cervix at a rapid speed. Drool spills from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolling back as the knot starts the build once again, your mind going numb as he blows his load into your swollen pussy, squeezing the plush of your hips.

“Love you,” he murmurs in your ear at the same time you’re ready to doze off, your post orgasm haze taking over you, “So much.” He continues, kissing your head.

“I love you, too,” you respond as he turns you to the side before interlocking your fingers together. It’s calming, it feels right and every moment eases your mind off the lost five years between the two of you. “Would you run away with me if you had the chance?”

You’re not sure if your mind is clouded with lust or if it was the feeling of finally being cherished by a man you wished you married or if every sense of rationality had already left you, but in a heartbeat, you respond easily.

“Yes.”

He presses his lips against your bare back before the both of you doze off together in a dreamless sleep.

It all feels surreal.

The last time you see Megumi, he tells you about the emptiness of the mansion, the vines growing against the walls, how the once trimmed bushes are now overgrown and you ask him to stop talking. As much as you love your little cousin, a mention of the house was just another reminder of what you could have had. It only fills you with regret and guilt.

Naoya kisses your head, but it’s not the same.

While you have your daughter to take care of, your husband to serve, it’s only natural for your mind to wander. It’s only natural for your heart to ache, your stomach to turn, your fists to clench. There’s too many questions of what if or what could have been. Would Satoru still be alive if you had followed through? Would you be happier? Did you make the right decision?

But once someone, anyone, walks into your room, reality hits you like a truck and you’re back to where you’re supposed to be. And your life isn’t horrible at all because when you snap back to reality, you snap back to green grass, the finest silks, and the pearls around your neck. You snap back to the perfect family, a strong husband that can protect you, a beautiful daughter that can live a simple life. It’s all old money, acquired not by bootlegging or running a speakeasy, but passed down through generations. While things aren’t perfect, they nearly are.

Still, what if you had taken your daughter with you, living in that huge mansion where the floors are spotless and gold lines the walls and ceilings?

Day by day, it eats at you and when moving day comes, it doesn’t get any easier. Maybe you weren’t cut out for this life—one where you had to worry about your status, one where you tied down to your family. Maybe you were perfect for it, overthinking each and every single problem that five lost years had caused you. You would forget about him one day, at least you think you would.

But you still remember cerulean eyes so clearly, round sunglasses, a pink tint on pale cheeks, soft lips, tousled ivory hair. And it hurts you every time because even after life, the image has a tug on your heart. He didn’t ever get to hear your last words to him, you weren’t there to comfort him, you didn’t even bother to attend his funeral. Megumi knows not to mention him around you, too. He keeps his filter on, processing his grief on his own.

Satoru reaches out to the green light across the bay, too afraid to go there on his own, but the hope of seeing you once again fuels the fire in his heart. He goes through the trouble of sacrificing his money and his time, replaying old scenes of you in his head and is thankful that he even made it this far, that he was even this close to calling you his. He reaches out one moment and he’s gone the next.

And the green light simply guides boats to the dock. It’s all it does anymore.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my work on other platforms.

[moldisgoodforyou]

the exes

lmfao guys i finally checked my taglist form and i've been missing a lot of you sorry :///

warnings: men that might remind you of your ex, brief mentions of sexual content

wordcount: 2.4k we're back to shorter fics unless you guys want to start waiting a month in between them

_______

“I love you, Sophie,” he’d said, and then looked at her expectantly.

She was surprised when she heard herself echoing her first boyfriend, Peter, with an “I love you too,” even though she wasn’t sure she meant it. Her parents always said they fell in love after only two weeks, so Peter waiting two whole months to tell her was a logical next step.

Right?

Peter went to the Columbus College of Art and Design, and they’d met through a dating app after Sophie figured she didn’t want to have to meet another boy that was halfway drunk and put his hands on her waist when he shuffled past her in the dirty college bar. So she settled for the first nice boy she met, that looked halfway decent and kissed halfway decent too. He was two years older, twenty while she was eighteen, and always bragged to his friends about how mature she was, how smart she was for her age.

Her father hated him, but Sophie just figured it was because he was her first real boyfriend. Carter especially hated him, making a clear effort to ignore him and turn a cold shoulder when he’d pick Sophie up from the dorms and take her out to dinner, or on the few mornings he had to pick her up from Peter’s house when Peter would complain he was too hungover to drive the eleven minutes to campus to bring her home.

She quickly learned that I love you wasn’t necessarily love, it was more like an obligation. When she really was too busy with architecture homework, or she had a sorority meeting, he’d ask her to come over with a pleading “c’mon, but I love you,” and she’d huff to herself but pack up her things and go to his apartment for a couple hours. She’d hang out with him just long enough to placate him, then trudge back to her house, work on homework until three am, wake up exhausted, repeat.

She went out with him to the bars, more often than she liked, and he’d get way drunker than her every time. Sophie would sigh and drag him home, then make sure he was well enough to attend church the next day. She went once and was reminded of how her childhood was spent in church, every Sunday in youth group, and hated that feeling. One of the girls in his youth group led a sermon about saving yourself for marriage, sending several pointed glances at Sophie, and she realized he’d probably confessed to them about how she let him touch her. (He didn’t know that she faked an orgasm so he’d quit rubbing what was basically her inner thigh.)

He was never mean, just...boring. Something she had to deal with. She found herself wanting more, playing with the idea of what it would be like to ask out the cute boy in her sociology class, but then she’d shake her head and remind herself she wasn’t a cheater. Besides, he wasn’t that terrible. He’d dote on her and call her princess (which she hated, but figured as far as pet names went, it could be worse).

When he posted photos with other girls on his Instagram story - at a party, in class, out to lunch - Sophie found herself not caring a little too much. She kept waiting for a hint of jealousy, and thought that sometimes he was waiting for it too, but it never came. Julia and Allie would see and question those stories, ask Sophie who those girls were, but she’d just get defensive and shrug it off. (He’s allowed to have other girl friends, she’d say. Even when the photo showed the girl’s head on his chest and arms around his waist and his arm around hers, his hand on her hip.)

When he called her in tears, after five months of dating, she knew what was coming.

“I kissed someone else.”

“Oh.” She paused, gathered her thoughts, then realized she had none. Felt completely neutral. “Okay.”

Peter sounded like he was at his breaking point. She didn’t care. “It’s been going on for a while.”

“Is it Andie?” Sophie asked, growing annoyed. Did they really need to drag the phone call out?

“Yeah.” He let out some ungodly sob and she found herself feeling disgusted, wanting to tell him to pull it together. Andie was cool, a girl she’d met a couple times at the few college parties she’d been to with Peter, where everyone sat around and smoked cigarettes and drank IPAs, and fit the stereotype of art students so damn well it wasn’t even funny. Andie wore Doc Martens and had a buzzcut and gave zero fucks - and clearly didn’t give any about the tentative friendship Sophie thought they had.

She wrinkled her nose. “Did you do more than just kiss?”

Peter had never pressured her - ever - Sophie would tell him sorry with shaky hands, that she just wasn’t ready to go further, then felt gross every time she apologized. But if they went a little too far and she made them stop, he never stayed the night, only napped with her until she was asleep and slipped out just after.

“I’m so sorry, princess -”

She recoiled at the pet name. She’d never liked it but didn’t hate it enough to argue against it. “No, no, answer the question, Peter. Did you do more?”

“...Yeah. We did. I just - I had to find it somewhere, you know -”

“Oh.” She mumbled, her insecurities confirmed.

“Sophie, princess, I’m so sorry. Why don’t you come over and we can just -”

“I don’t think I want to see you again. For a while.” She added, chewing anxiously on her lip as she told him.

Silence came over the phone for a few moments until he finally replied. “Oh.”

A few more moments. “You’re sure? We can talk it out.”

“Um...no. And yes, I’m pretty sure. Okay. Um. Talk to you later, I guess.” She hung up, feeling more disappointed in herself for not catching it than anything else.

(They did not talk later, or ever again. Sophie figured that was best.)

_______

Shortly after Peter, Sophie met Luke. He was sweet, a little boring too, but most importantly, he was easy. Easy to talk to, easy to hang out with, and she didn’t have this lingering fear in the back of her mind that he was going to go hook up with someone else. After a few months, Luke became a little less than easy - he was clingy and would walk her home from every class, he would ask her to come hang out when he studied in the chemistry lab, he would complain if she didn’t spend the night with him. She found herself lying to him that the architecture studio didn’t allow visitors, just so she could get a breath of fresh air.

One night, when Sophie sighed upon seeing Luke’s contact pop up on her phone and went to grab her overnight bag without even reading the text, Allie frowned. “Sophie.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to do this, you know. Just because he says he misses you. You can be your own person.”

Sophie paused, considering. “I am my own person, just with him. Right?”

Allie hesitated before answering, wanting to phrase things carefully so Sophie didn’t get upset. “I feel like maybe you’re a little different with him. When I met you, you were confident and bold and...I don’t know. I think he’s holding you back.”

(You’re a shell of yourself,” is what she really wanted to say, but she wasn’t sure Sophie could handle that.)

“Oh.” Sophie uttered, quiet. Allie had just confirmed what Sophie had been thinking for months, but she didn’t think anyone else had picked up on it. “You think I should break up with him?”

“I think you need to decide that on your own.”

“Allie.”

She just gave her a look, shaking her head. “Go over there, and say what you need to say.”

Sophie was clearly debating, stuck, until Allie pried her bag out of her hand and grabbed her keys from her desk. “Al -”

“Come on. I’ll drive you.” Allie guided her out the door, her arm slung around Sophie’s shoulders. She drove her to Luke’s house, waited outside while Sophie went in, and texted Julia to get ice cream from the store when Sophie walked back out only twenty minutes later with teary eyes.

Sophie slid back in the passenger seat, drawing her knees to her chest. “I did it.”

“I’m proud of you, Soph.” Allie reached over and hugged her. “You’re better than him. I promise.”

When they both returned to their room, Julia wrapped Sophie in a big hug. She held her tight as Sophie sniffled, quietly, then promptly handed her a spoon for the ice cream as soon as she let go. After a few moments of quiet, Julia broke the silence. “So when are you getting back out there?”

“Oh my god, Jules, give her a break.” Allie rolled her eyes as Sophie giggled through her tears.

“I’m just asking! Maybe it’s time for you to go through your hoe phase, babe.” She reached over and snagged a bite of the ice cream, twirling the spoon around thoughtfully. “Or do you have any guys in mind - oh, remember that cute Delt that’s from your hometown -”

Sophie fixed her with a glare. “If I’m doing a hoe phase, it’s sure as hell not gonna be with Rafe Cameron.”

“Rafe! That’s what it was. Okay, so he’s out. What about the bartender at Varsity Club, he always gives you the extra shots in your drink for free?”

“Can you give the girl at least a day to get over her breakup?” Allie asked skeptically.

“Can I just say something?” Julia asked.

Sophie sighed, nodding. “I know you’re gonna say it anyways, so go ahead.”

Julia gave her a sheepish grin, patting Sophie’s knee. “I never liked him. He made you kinda like a doormat, y’know, and that’s not you. You’re better than that. Plus, he was so needy. I mean, he had to have been good in bed for you to stick around -”

“Jesus Christ, Jules -”

“He wasn’t.” Sophie interrupted them both. “We didn’t do that much, anyways.”

“Oh.” Julia paused, thinking. “Well. I’m glad you broke up with him, anyways. Takes a lot of courage.”

———

The first time Luke called when he was drunk, it was only a week after their breakup. Sophie felt bad and picked him up from the bar to drive him home, and let him kiss her in his room before she pulled away and urged him into bed.

The second time, it was the next weekend, and she did the same thing, but kissed him a little more. She ignored Julia’s knowing look when she slinked back into their room, head down, with her lipstick a little smeared and hair a little astray.

He kept drunk calling and she kept going to rescue him, to pick him up from the bars or a pregame or wherever else he was. She convinced herself it was only because she felt bad about breaking up with him, that he wasn’t all that bad in the relationship. The fifth time he called, a month and a half after the breakup, the girls were all drunk at the bars, and Luke was drinking at a party. When he called, Allie snatched the phone out of Sophie’s hand and tucked herself into the corner of the bar to hear him.

“Luke?”

“Soph - no, wait, Allie?”

“Yes. It’s Allie. Stop fucking calling her.”

“I just - I thought she could take me home -” He started, confused.

Allie huffed but forced a smile and gave Sophie a thumbs up from across the bar. “No. She can’t. And you can’t call her anymore, she’s not your girlfriend. Go find a friend or something.” With that she promptly hung up and blocked his number, satisfied. She’d regret it a little in the morning, but didn’t tell Sophie what she’d done.

____

It took Sophie about two weeks after Luke’s last phone call to follow Julia’s advice to ‘get back out there.’ The first time, she convinced herself it was way too easy - flirted with a frat boy at the bar with a few subtle touches, twirled her hair around her finger, and went back to his room after only an hour of knowing him. It was rushed, awkward, and she was pretty sure the guy came in his pants after a few heated kisses and a couple rolls of her hips.

The second time, she tried a little harder, going after a guy that approached her first with a smooth pickup line and a broad smile. They traded buying rounds for each other all night, until he kissed her around midnight and shyly asked if she’d want to go back to his place. When he escorted her into what she recognized as an off-campus Sigma Chi senior house, she didn’t dare inform him that actually, she was just a sophomore with a really good fake ID. She surprised herself when she took off her clothes first, then kissed him with a newfound confidence she’d pulled out of nowhere.

“I lost it.” Sophie announced with a slight frown when she came back into their room at two am.

Allie woke up from her spot on the futon where she and Julia were watching TV, rubbing her eyes. “What’d you lose?”

“Your...” Julia trailed off.

Sophie nodded, wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s not like everyone says. And I thought it would take a little longer. It wasn’t bad, though.”

Allie frowned, getting up to hug her. “Are you alright?”

Sophie accepted the hug, resting her chin on Allie’s shoulder. “Yeah. Just...I don’t know. I kind of hoped it would be a little more special.”

“He didn’t kick you out, did he?” Julia rose too, wrapping her arms around both the girls.

“No. I left.” She paused, sounding both deflated and a tiny bit hopeful. “They can’t all be like this, right? I mean, this is my fourth guy I’ve had...something with, and I’m starting to think there’s a trend.”

“No, no, you’ll find the right person. I promise.” Julia assured her. “Maybe you need to just wait, you know? Take some time for yourself.”

Allie hummed in agreement. “You’re more than just some dumb relationship.”

“I just…” Sophie sighed, quietly. “How am I supposed to know when he’s the right one?”

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Bells

Phillip Carlyle x Reader

Words: 1483

Summary: The new Mrs. Carlyle learns to navigate her odd place in society and finds unwavering support in her husband and in her friends. 

Notes: Complete and utter fluff. This was technically supposed to be a Christmas imagine, but we all know how bad I can be with keeping deadlines, so it’s now a winter one. Oops. Anyway, Phillip is one of my favorites and I hope you guys enjoy reading Zac Efron imagines as much as I love writing them! This imagine was also kind of inspired by Ross and Demelza’s relationship in Poldark. Be sure to let me know what you think!

Find more Zac imagines HERE

-

The night, while cold, was lively and inviting. Snow drifted softly to the earth, lightly dusting your shawl and your skirt as you waited outside the theater house. The street lamps’ golden hallows made your beaming face glow, your smile surely shining brightly for miles. Tonight was perfect. 

“Can I give you a lift, miss?” A carriage driver smiled down at you. 

“Thank you, but no. I’m sure my-”

“Free of charge.” He enticed further, his stare beginning to make you uncomfortable. “I’m full of holiday spirit this evening, especially for a pretty thing like you.” 

“Thank you, sir, but again, I have to decline.” You weren’t used to this kind of attention and you weren’t sure how to politely escape. It was almost funny. This man probably saw you a hundred times on the street before but never bat an eye. You were different then. 

The man continued to badger you until another voice interjected. 

“I appreciate your concern, sir,” Phillip appeared beside you, laying a hand on the small of your back, “but I have already secured a carriage for my wife and myself.” The man stammered an apology before taking his horses elsewhere. You laughed lightly. 

“I was starting to think you’d abandoned me.” You teased. Phillip placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

“I was caught by the Whiltons before I could escape. I hope you weren’t waiting too long.” 

“Long enough to be noticed, apparently.” You laughed in disbelief. “I can’t remember ever being noticed before.” It wasn’t entirely true, of course, for it wasn’t long ago that a certain leader of the circus had noticed you. Phillip chuckled. 

“If you don’t want to be noticed, my dear, you are going to have to stop looking so lovely.” Phillip’s blue eyes sparkled as he brushed his nose against yours, bringing your lips to his in a kiss. 

A sudden rush of cold air made you shiver and Phillip quickly helped you into the carriage. Your smile outshined all of the lights in the square, your eyes wild and bright with excitement as you watched the city go by. Before, the holidays were harsh and forgiving. A reminder of your place in the world- starving and cold and unloved. Now, in the arms of the person who had shown you love like you had never known, the world was merrier. Even the snow that you once dreaded sparkled as it flitted down through the air. 

“What are you thinking about?” Phillip asked, smiling admiringly at your wondrous expression. You smirked. 

“How I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.” 

“Get used to what?” 

“Being your wife.” You tore your stare away from the snowy sky to look into his eyes. “Just hearing you say it…it’s so silly, but I feel like sometimes I have to be reminded or else I don’t believe it.” 

“Would you like me to remind you more often?” He bit his lip and his eyes held a look you had only recently begun to recognize. 

“Phillip.” You gasped, having to cover your mouth to stifle your laughter. He kissed your cheek. 

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” He exited the carriage first, taking your hand as you stepped down onto the pavement. 

“It was lovely.” You beamed. Your husband had taken you to the ballet as a belated Christmas present. It was unlike anything you’d seen before, not that you had much experience with finer arts. You used to press your ear against the outer walls just to hear the music. Now you had box seats. Sometimes the changes made your head spin. “They’re all so graceful and elegant and… beautiful.” 

With a light sigh, your eyes looked up at the sky again. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear bells. Not heavy church bells swinging back and forth in some chapel. These were light and soft. Phillip’s hand on your cheek brought you out of your trance. 

“Do you know what I think is beautiful?” You gave him a small smile. 

“I don’t need cheering up, Phillip. I had a wonderful time.” 

“I think the way you look at the world like it's a gift is beautiful. Even after the life you grew up in, you still can see things spectacularly.” Before you could say anything else, Phillip pulled you into a kiss. Again, you could hear bells, only this time they were closer. You imagined them as stars having fallen to earth, bouncing lightly down the street towards you. 

“Phillip,” You started once the kiss had ended. He smiled affectionately. 

“Yes, dear?” 

“I believe it’s time we turn in for the night. Don’t you agree?” Your smirk matched his previous expression. Phillip scooped you up in his arms, causing both of you to laugh, and carried you inside.

-

It took every ounce of self control you had not to escape to the kitchens to hide. At least amongst the cooks and waiters you would feel more like you belonged. Here, you felt like, for lack of a better phrase, a circus attraction. 

Phillip had been whisked away by P.T. to help impress some visiting family of prominence, leaving you to face the wolves. 

“Mrs. Carlyle, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Miss Martha Whilton approached you with a less than gracious smile on her face. You put on the most polite smile you could while also desperately searching the crowded room for your husband. 

“Miss Whilton, how wonderful to see you.” 

“I had the pleasure of running into Mr. Carlyle the other night at the ballet.” Her tone seemed genuine enough that you let down your guard. 

“Yes, he took me as a late Christmas gift.” You beamed, fondly remembering that night. Her expression soured. 

“I’ve found that the ballet is nothing like it used to be.” She looked at you pointedly. “Too many ugly ducklings and not enough swans.” With that sneer, she sashayed past you to join her other snobbish friends. You wanted to shrink into the floor. 

“You shouldn’t pay any attention to them.” From the crowd emerged P.T.’s wife with a kind and knowing face. “Martha is still furious that you snatched Phillip away from her.” 

“It’s not as if I expected it to happen.” You laughed nervously. Your marriage to Phillip was just as much of a surprise to you as it was to society. “How do you do it Mrs. Barnum? Survive all of the small talk and backhanded comments?” 

“Years and years of practice. And please, call me Charity.” She hooked her arm through yours and the two of you walked about the room together, careful to avoid any more contact with Miss Whilton or her fellow vipers. Eventually, you found your husbands, P.T. with his bright showman smile. Even after he stepped aside as the center of the circus, he still knew how to perform. Phillip had a drink in his hand and his smile was far more strained. 

When he saw you, however, his demeanor immediately brightened. 

“There you are, darling.” He sounded practically relieved. You leaned in close so only he would hear.

“If you needed saving, all you had to do was ask.” You whispered, causing him to chuckle. He kissed your cheek. 

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” 

“Must there be a next time?” You whined a little louder than you meant to. Luckily, P.T. and Charity just laughed. 

“I guess I’ve kept you both here long enough.” P.T. took Phillip’s drink and downed the rest himself. “You two go have a nice evening.” 

“Are you sure?” Phillip asked, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. P.T. nodded and Phillip gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Thank you.” P.T. just laughed and Phillip laced his fingers with yours and hurriedly walked towards the exit. 

As soon as you were out of the view of prying eyes, he placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss. There, hiding in the shadow of the doorway, you felt like you were back at the beginning of your relationship, stealing moments after shows behind the stands. 

“Mr. Carlyle, someone is going to see us.” You giggled, stepping towards the stairs, but he pulled you back into the darkness. 

“And if they do?” He smirked. “They all think I’m a terrible scandal anyway.” 

“What did you expect to happen when you ran off and joined the circus?” 

“I hadn’t expected to fall in love and yet here we are.” His charming smile grew and you gave him a quick kiss before retreating down the stairs, laughing as he chased you. 

He didn’t catch you until you were outside, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him. You continued merrily down the street, hand in hand and listening to the distant ringing of bells.

[someonestolemyshoes]

Toys Shouldn’t Move

This is a repost of an old.....frankly chaotic fic I wrote a few years ago, but as I was asked to repost some of my old Ackerbabies fics, I figured this one can see the light of day again. Whether I think it should be in the public eye again is. Debatable. 

Anyway, this is technically part of my Our House collection and I’ll archive it in there as well, but I figured since it’s, um, Different. It can have a place of it’s own too!! 

Warning: Non-graphic depictions of sex between inanimate(?) objects. 

They’re getting ready for bed when Levi brings it up, and he only thinks to mention it because Hange is wearing a slip of a nightie, the cool, thin silk see-through at the breast, riding high over her thighs. On any normal day he wouldn’t hesitate, but today he feels dirty. He freezes when her finger grazes over the skin of his chest, body rigid, and at Hange’s questioning gaze he says, “the Cookie Monster fucked Elmo.”

It all started with that fucking Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster toy.

Levi wasn’t fond of them, those fuzz-coated, boggle-eyed, shit-your-pants scary robots marketed to brats as young as his own and he can’t see the attraction, doesn’t understand the way Samson claps his hands and spits his laughs, all wide-eyed and full of joy as the fluffy little demon chuckles it’s weird, demonic laughter and rocks in time to the wriggle of Samson’s grubby, tickling fingers.

“Toys shouldn’t move,” he says one day, arms crossed and brow furrowed as Hange takes to the floor and sets the doll in motion. She rolls her eyes, and puffs a lock of hair from her face.

“Say hello to the twenty-first century, short stuff,” she says as Samson dives for the Cookie Monster with a kind of undignified gusto Levi rarely sees in him. Hange stretches to her feet, bends to press a kiss to Levi’s pouted mouth and scoops Leelu out of her chair.

“If this is the twenty-first century, I want out.”

Leelu stretches tiny, sticky fingers and grabs at the air in his direction. Levi lifts her out of Hange’s grip, and settles her on his hip, smudging a streak of chocolate from her cheek with his thumb. She points down at Samson, points at the god-forsaken toy and says, loud and clear and bossy as ever, “want one.”

Hange barks out a laugh, rests her hands on her hips and tips her chin up and guffaws, entirely at Levi’s expense, like there is anything remotely funny about the idea of having not one, but twoTickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster’s shrieking their laughter all day, every day, for the foreseeable future. Levi chucks Leelu’s cheek and scowls.

“Little traitor.”  

**

In the end, they compromise.

On the plus side, no more Cookie Monster robots, and upon hearing those words Levi is about as happy as he can be with Leelu sucking the ends of his cravat between her tiny little teeth.

Instead, though, Leelu will receive her very own Elmo Live – in short, another hairy, beastly little android.

Hange unpacks the box while Leelu watches, eyes wide behind little, round-lens glasses, while Samson pulls tiny tufts of fur from his Cookie Monster and pretends he isn’t looking, too. Levi sips a cup of strong tea, resigned to this fate.

The minute the batteries are in and the switch is flicked on, Elmo rockets to life, voice high and nasal. He throws his head back and laughs, mouth gaping, eyes bulging, and Levi stares over the rim of his tea cup in horror as Leelu beats her palms together, and giggles along with the monstrous toy. Hange is smiling, wide and victorious and yes, a little malicious, too. She casts her eyes to the side, to Levi.

“I hate it,” Levi says, stiffly, blinking at the manic red bot. “I hate it so much.”

And then the Cookie Monster is off alongside it, bending at the waist and gyrating, busting out it’s awful laughter as Samson shrieks, nudges it to set it away again. Elmo is chatting with his mouth spread as wide as it goes, an empty, black pit yawning inside and oh my god, oh my god.

Levi thinks, as Hange steps behind him to rest her chin atop his head and the diabolical sniggering continues, that things absolutely, 100% cannot possibly get any worse.

**

Levi thought wrong.

It’s when he’s packing the day away that he realises his misjudgment. He crosses the room, scooping toy cars and Barbie dolls and Lego pieces from the floor and throwing them into the toy box, and on his final leg of the room, there they are.

They stand side by side, Elmo and the Cookie Monster, bulbous white eyes watching his approach. His hands are tentative as he reaches for them, half expecting the evil little bastards to spring to life in his palms, wriggling and chuckling, but they remain still even as he closes his fingers around their fat, hairy middles.

They remain silent as he carries them across the room, don’t utter a sound as he traps Elmo beneath an arm to make some room in the toy box, stay quiet as he drops them into place.

It’s only when he steps back, and turns to survey the room one more time that it happens.

The Cookie Monster starts it. His infernal laughter rips through the room making Levi jump, twisting and staring in absolute horror as the tiny beast’s body rests where he’d placed it, curled against the back of Elmo, chortling and grumbling phrases Levi can’t even understand and this is bad enough, this is the worst, most terrible thing he has ever witnessed in his whole life, bar none.

And then Elmo joins in.

Elmo shrieks, throws his mouth open and howls and the sounds are terrible enough, but there is one thing that is even worse.

Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster has one feature that interests and amazes kids, that has Samson’s eyes bugging out of his skull whenever he turns the damn thing on, and it isn’t his laughter, it isn’t his jolly little phrases, and it isn’t his touch-of-a-hand reactions.

It’s that he moves.

TMX Cookie Monster bends at the waist in jerky little movements; three down, and three back up, lather, rinse, repeat. It’s horrifying enough, watching the fuzzy blue devil do this alone, but right now his fat little body is curling and uncurling itself pressed right up against Elmo’s back.

And Elmo is still screeching, still belting out his laughter, head knocked back and mouth agape and Jesus Christ—  

“They’re fucking,” Levi says to no one, staring at the toys where they sit in the box.

He is hasty to find the off-switch, and he drops them back in the box, shocked and speechless, before shaking his head and abandoning the room.

They’re getting ready for bed when Levi brings it up, and he only thinks to mention it because Hange is wearing a slip of a nightie, the cool, thin silk see-through at the breast, riding high over her thighs. On any normal day he wouldn’t hesitate, but today he feels dirty. He freezes when her finger grazes over the skin of his chest, body rigid, and at Hange’s questioning gaze he says, “the Cookie Monster fucked Elmo.”

Hange frowns, pulls back and settles herself against the mattress, one leg folded neatly over the other.

“If you don’t want to have sex tonight you can just tell me,” she says, a note of humour in her tone. Levi shakes his head, shucks his jeans off and scrubs his hands through his hair.

“The toys,” he says almost desperately, and at Hange’s raised brow, he elaborates. “I was packing them away and they weren’t switched off, and the way they were lying…it looked like they were boning.”

“That’s,” Hange begins, blinking owlishly, “that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Levi doubts this, knowing the kinds of things Hange reads and watches to keep herself entertained through the day, but he doesn’t argue.

“Can we just go to bed,” he says instead, and Hange nods, shaking her head and chuckling low under her breath.

Sleep is difficult, dreams wrought with red and blue and high, squawking laughter.

**

It happens again the next night, but by the time he drags Hange out of bed and down to the living room they have stopped and they sit, silent and mocking in the toy box, unseeing eyes staring into the room.

The worst part is, it never happens to Hange. Night after night she clears away, slips every used and abused toy into the box, and night after night Elmo and the Cookie Monster remain still, and silent.

Years go by; Samson and Leelu age and outgrow the toys they once loved. and Elmo and the Cookie Monster are no exception. Leelu is five when the robots are packed in cardboard and hauled up into the attic, and Levi sets the box to rest with a smile. He’s never been happier to see the back of any inanimate object in all his young life.

New toys come and go, some horrifying, some begrudgingly kind of cool, and as the kids shift from childhood to their teen years the phones come along. Cheap, at first, with thick, fat buttons and black and white screens and Snake, and as the kids grow older the phones become more complex.

They flip, they slide, they twist, they have the entire alphabet squeezed onto individual keys and then they have no keys at all, the epitome of modern technology.

Samson is sixteen, tapping away at the screen of a phone too complicated for Levi to even comprehend, when Hange suggests they clean out the attic for more storage space.

It’s a good idea, Levi thinks – though it’ll create messes he has to clean up – as he re-positions the ladder beneath the hatch for the third time. He holds it still as Samson and Leelu clamber up, and it’s only when Samson yells, “whoa, some of these are from like, ten years ago!” that Levi remembers what demons they’ve buried in boxes beneath the roof of their house.

“I’m making tea,” he says, and Hange nods.

“I’ll grab a coffee before we get started.” She angles her head up the opening and yells, “be careful up there, guys,” before smiling, pecking a kiss to Levi’s cheek, and leading him downstairs.

**

“Man, Lu-Lu, you had terrible taste in clothes as a kid, too.”

Samson dodges the smack Leelu sends his way and crumples the voluminous snot-green dress back into the box

“I, on the other hand,” he begins, brandishing an item from his own box, but his face falls into a grimace at the sight of the bright orange tee and he folds it away with a quiet, “sure glad Mum and Dad don’t dress me now.

“Hey, shit-for-brains,” Leelu says. Samson looks over. “This is all our old toys.”

“Oh, sweet! I bet mine were all better than yours, too.”

Leelu kicks at his thigh as Samson crawls the space between then and he scowls, rubs the battered limb and settles beside the box.

“Hey, look!” He laughs, pointing inside, “the Cookie Monster!”

“He’s squashing my Elmo.”

“Well, yeah,” Samson says, “Cookie Monster comes out on top every time, sis. Everyone knows CM trumps Elmo any day. God, I even picked better toys than you. Nothing’s changed, huh.”

“You know, Samson,” Leelu says, cracking her fingers one at a time. “I’d hate to ruin a perfectly good day by shoving your egocentric fucking face through the attic floor, but I’m not above doing it.”

Samson splays his hands and nods his head in surrender, and then he blinks wide, glinting eyes and reaches for the box.

“Wonder if they still work.”

It takes one touch to set the Cookie Monster flailing.

Samson prods him with a finger and Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster thrashes in the box, his rhythmic bending and unfurling awakening Elmo, too. The pair of them screech and holler, decades old laughter ricocheting off the attic walls, and Samson barks, pointing a long finger and grinning from ear to ear.

“Randy little bastards,” he hoots, fishing his phone out of his back pocket and opening the camera.

Leelu stares, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“What the fuck,” she breathes, gazing in abject horror as her childhood crumbles before her eyes. Samson can barely hold the camera steady, shoulders shaking, tears leaking down his cheeks as the Cookie Monster—

“He’s railing him,” Samson cries, voice high and strained as he fights to get the words passed his laughter. He angles the phone to catch Leelu in the lens, body hunched and eyes bulging, as she stares in terror at their childhood playthings.

“This is the most sordid thing I’ve ever seen,” Samson wheezes.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Leelu says, quiet, monotonous, and horrified.

It takes a little longer before she thinks to switch them off, and when the idea finally springs to mind she hesitates to reach into the box. It feels dirty, touching them, and Samson wipes the tears from his face when the noise finally comes to a stop.

“I gotta show Mum,” Samson says, coughing out a few additional, choking laughs. Leelu follows him down the ladder in a daze.

**

“Mum, you’ve got to see this.”

Samson rockets into the kitchen, eyes alive, arm outstretched with his phone clutched in his hand. Levi sips his tea and raises a brow, gaze falling on Leelu as she drags her feet over the threshold and slumps into a chair. There’s something about the look in her eyes, a violated kind of shock that Levi has only seen once before, on himself, all those years ago, way back when…

Oh, no.

“Hey, Levi!” Hange laughs, setting her mug on the table. She peels Samson’s phone from his hand and turns it, tapping the screen. “Look what the kids found.”

There on the screen it plays, Elmo Live and Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster in all their sleazy glory. Levi jabs a finger first at the horror unfolding on the screen, and then at Hange

“I fucking told you,” he says, sitting a little higher in his chair to take one long, dignified slurp of his tea.

“My Elmo,” Leelu says. She looks at Levi a little imploringly. He shrugs a shoulder.

“It’s a long-standing affair,” he says. Samson claps him on the shoulder while Leelu buries her face in her hands.

“Taking it right in the childhood there, Lu-Lu,” Samson says, “just like Elmo’s taking it right in the—”

“Fuck the fuck off.”

“You didn’t believe me,” Levi says, listening idly as Samson and Leelu argue beside him. Hange replays the video and stares, laughter bubbling up in her eyes. Levi folds his arms, sniffing haughtily. “I told you those things were disgusting. Can we throw them away now?”

“No!” Samson wails, voice a little choked where his neck is hooked under Leelu’s arm. “You can’t punish them for love, Dad. I thought you were better than that.”

“Oh my god.”

“He’s right,” Hange says, grinning impishly, “I didn’t think you were the discriminating type.”

Levi scowls, then purses his lips.

“Can we just throw the damn things out?”

“I’ve lost all respect for you, Pops,” Samson says, and he tries to sigh, but his breath is gurgled when Leelu squeezes his neck a little tighter.

“Throw them out,” she says, “get rid of them.”

Levi kicks his way out of the chair, legs scraping over the kitchen tiles as Samson yells, strangled and desperate, “Injustice!”

Hange replays the video for a third time, tilts the screen first one way, then the other.

“It’s pretty impressive,” she says, “that they’re still working after all these years. And Elmo is way more flexible than I thought.”

Leelu tightens her headlock on Samson, choking off a snide, spit-heavy comment about stamina, and Levi drops back into his chair, tilting his head against the back rest to stare, resigned, at the ceiling. He listens to his children argue, to Leelu’s threats and Samson’s jeers, to Hange’s laughter and her half-hearted reprimands.

And to the monstrous, ungodly audio of toys fucking in his attic.

[dadsbongos]

Treehouse

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: Katsuki Bakugou/Reader (and a lot of other people) Warnings: Spoilers for bakugou’s hero name ahead!!, songfic for this song Summary: Katsuki’s grown a lot since middle school, hasn’t he? ~~~

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

Katsuki looked down at the girl in his arms, eyes fluttered shut and lashes fallen over her cheeks. Lips parted ever so slightly to let out puffs of even, laxed breathing. The golden sunlight shone in her hair as it beamed through his thin curtains, soft warmth spreading over both of their bodies. His fingers carefully danced over the tender skin of her arm as he held her close. Her head over his chest and he was sure that the sound of his thunderous heartbeat would wake her eventually.

It felt nice, he concluded, to hold his love so dearly. To let his chest deflate and not have to be the best of the best. He didn’t have to be anyone. He didn’t have to be Bakugou, Katsuki - top of the class. Bakugou, Katsuki - Dynamight. Bakugou, Katsuki - Kacchan. Bakugou, Katsuki.

If he didn’t want to, he didn’t have to be anyone. She’d hold him just as close with any other persona he wanted to wear. It was his real security. His real home - right in her arms. A home he didn’t want to leave.

He wasn’t sure when it hit him. Just one of those random thoughts you never expect but deep down, you knew the entire time. Something so simple and yet so earth shattering that merely breathing it into existence seemed catastrophic. He wasn’t sure when it hit him that he was terrified of losing her. So innately terrified that the very thought was enough to send his muscles a tremor.

The feeling, it wasn’t nice. But he knew exactly what was - living the life he could with (Y/n).

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Man, you’re really saving my ass here, Bakubro!” Eijiro grinned, exposing his unnatural shark teeth.

Katsuki huffed, “Don’t think about it, shitty hair. You’re still not passing.”

“I know, I know,” the redhead nervously grinned, eyeing the rolled up newspaper in Katsuki’s hand as he did so, “It’s just manly of you to help me is all. You’ve changed, man, it’s kinda cool.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!” Eijiro put down his pencil, “It’s cool.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t retort further. Whether he was ready to admit it or not, that usually would’ve gotten Kirishima, Eijiro a first-class newspaper swatting but he supposed he could let it pass. Just this once. 

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy. I'm really glad you think I'm so funny. I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

Denki bit at his bottom lip in concentration, more effort going into thinking about cracking the egg in his hand than actually cracking the egg in his hand. His brows were drawn tight toward his face, contemplating how he should go about his cracking to avoid a mess. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he’d gotten shell in the bowl and yolk all on the counter and his fingers. The last time he was trusted to crack eggs, he felt like an utter fool. 

Looking over to the electric blond, Katsuki snarled at how little the boy had gotten done. Walking over, he took the egg still encased in its roughened shell from Denki in one hand and a bowl in the other. Tilting the porcelain bowl just right, Katsuki snapped the egg against the lip of the dish, pulling his fingers apart to hold the crack in the egg open so the yolk could drool down. Tossing out the eggshell, Katsuki watched as Denki took an egg for himself before copying exactly what the explosive teenager had done.

As two yolks drowned together in whites within their little bowl, Denki sung the praises of his dear friend, of Bakugou, Katsuki - and in Denki’s opinion, apparently, a masterchef. 

Nodding stiffly, Katsuki turned back to his own task at buttering the pan as it laid atop its burner. He let silence rule the kitchen until Denki would break it with a lame joke he would never admit he liked.

Do Not Enter's written on the doorway. Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you. You can stay.

“You have such great lid space, though,” Mina clasped her hands tighter, “I think it’d be fun!”

Katsuki grumbled under his breath before sighing and tossing his head back, “I’ll give you twenty minutes. Starting fucking now.”

Squealing, Mina hopped onto the common room couch before unzipping her makeup bag, “Thanks, Bakugou!”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, barely managing to hold his underlying frustration inside, “Your damn funeral if you fuck up.”

“I won��t…” Mina pouted, “C’mon, don’t you believe in me? Just a little? You’ve seen what I can do.”

“I’ll believe for now.”

What do you think of my treehouse? It's where I sit and talk really loud. Usually, I'm all by myself.

“Oh, didn’t know the balconies were occupied,” Hanta awkwardly muttered.

Katsuki looked up from the ground below, brows furrowed and eyes stinging, “If you say anything to anyone, I’ll kill you myself.”

Putting his hands up, Hanta showed off that stupidly large, stupidly infectious grin, “Hey, man, everyone needs a good cry. I think it keeps us sane.”

Nodding silently, Katsuki stood at his railing, head hanging over and eyes clenched shut in a new effort to keep his tears in.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Maybe, instead of dying, you could just vent to a trusted friend who cares about you?” Hanta suggested, “You go to (L/n), right? Well, now you can come to me, too. We’re friends, Bakugou, we’re there for each other.”

I’m the captain but you can be the deputy. 

Stirring inside his mind, were the thoughts he’d been keeping to himself since that fight. His real fight with Izuku. Where Katsuki won. The successor to All Might and boy wonder was beaten by Katsuki. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Izuku was making progress fast, far too fast. He was leaping towards the top and Katsuki could only watch on, feet trapped in the cement. The ground swallowing his body as Deku, the Quirkless one, the useless one, the crybaby, bound forward in success.

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t enough. Bakugou, Katsuki was simply not enough.

That’s what he was beginning to believe; where he couldn’t even save himself from villains, Deku came rushing in to save him and succeeded. 

Sitting at the kitchen island, alone, in the middle of the night, that’s what Katsuki was beginning to believe.

Lights flicker on, “Kacchan?”

Closing his eyes, Katsuki pretended there was no voice. Nobody behind him. No one but him awake at this awful hour.

“You’re usually in bed by now. Way before, actually.”

There was no reply. There didn’t need to be one. Izuku sat beside Katsuki all the same, an uneven, slightly nervous, smile on his face as he did so.

Katsuki opened his eyes, looking at the other boy from the corner of his peripheral, “You’ve made the power yours.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not as useless as I thought.”

“Thanks… you know, I’ve been meaning to ask… would you- would you train with me sometime? I think that I could really improve if I fought someone like you.” 

“Someone like me? The fuck does that mean?”

“Strong. Well-versed in your Quirk. Other than Todoroki, you’re probably the best at Quirk application, so I wanted to see if I could fight you.”

“Ask daddy issues.”

“But then we couldn’t have our rematch. I still need to beat you, Kacchan, you know?”

I'm really glad you think I'm so funny.

Katsuki found himself staring at the back of Izuku’s head, brows furrowed. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see her. (L/n), (Y/n) smiling at him softly, perfect lips tugged into a perfect grin on her perfect face. God, what he wouldn’t give to just grab her and kiss the smile off her face just to do it all over again. What he wouldn’t give to scream to the world he loved her.

“You okay? You’re tense.”

Glancing to the front, Shota still sleepily tucked in his sleeping bag in a corner of the room, Katsuki nodded, “Fucking fine. Just thinking.”

Setting her chin in the palm of her hand, (Y/n) tilted her head ever so slightly, “Wanna tell me about it?” shaking his head, the ash-blond went to refuse when she spoke up again, “Not here, if you wanna wait.”

He felt almost unworthy. Losing to Deku, killing the legacy of All Might, getting kidnapped by villains - Bakugou, Katsuki felt unworthy of his own lover’s comforts. Looking at the face of an angel would make you crazy - at least that’s what his father told him once. And so, he nodded slowly, “Sure. Later. Alone, though, I’m not talking shit in front of Raccoon Eyes and Dunce Face.”

“Whatever you need,” she murmured, giggling quietly to herself, “I’m here.”

I don't think I'm ever gonna let you leave.

“I’ll say this once.”

He burned the image of them into his brain. (Y/n) and Eijiro on either side of him on the common room couch. Denki just about ready to cut through the carrot cake Mina and Hanta slaved over despite trashing on the choice the entire time. Izuku was slightly off to the side, ready to hand off gifts to his childhood rival.

Katsuki sighed quietly, looking to his feet when a hand grabbed his, (Y/n) rubbing her thumb into his skin. He swallowed his pride before letting everything he felt about each and every person in the room manifest into the best phrase someone like him could imagine.

“Thanks. For everything.”

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Absolutely

Look. I was in a mood. I usually feel a little weird about posting smut bc that good ole christian repression and guilt and I’ve been sitting on this for a minute but fuck it. It’s time to post. 

Pairing: Geralt x fem!plussize!reader

Warnings: smut. hella smutty. subtle ‘I don’t like my body all that much’ vibes but its minimal

Summary: It’s been too long since you've had a good shag and Geralt picks up on it. 

Traveling with these idiots was usually great. As much as Geralt pretended to be a hardened brute, he was funny as hell and rather sweet. Jaskier was, with no better way to phrase it, himself, and you got along with them quite well. 

However. 

By the fifth town you had to nearly flee because Jaskier slept with the wrong person or the people were just royal ass holes, you were getting agitated. It had been three months since you'd had sex and a good couple weeks since your last orgasm because you weren't ever alone. Not for lack of trying. You tried making excuses to go to bed early when you were sharing rooms and did your damnedest to find lovers for a night. It just took a little more time for you to find someone in a tavern who enjoyed your fuller figure than it did for the boys. Partly because you had to be more careful, men were far more dangerous than most of the women they chased, but partly because you knew you were selling to a niche market. By the time you've got a sure target, some kind of shit hits the fan and you're tugged away from your night without the dynamic duo of chaos.

On week three with no genuine 'me time' you woke from a vivid wet dream to Roach sniffing your hair and wanted to scream. 

"Good morning sunshine!" Jaskier called, already packing up camp. 

You sat up, glaring at him, "Is it?"

He frowned at you, "Geralt though you might be grumpy today. Did you accidentally mind meld with him again?" 

You forced a laugh, "Fuck I hope not." The dream was absolutely about him. 

You went about your business trying to keep from being outwardly angry.

When you and Jaskier had everything packed and ready to go you looked around, "Where the hell is Geralt?" 

Before Jaskier even had time to turn and look at you, you were being lifted in the air. 

"Right here." Geralt answered, swinging you over his shoulder. 

This was not helpful to your plight. There was nothing you wanted more at the moment than for Geralt to pick you up and pin you against a wall, or tree if need be, with your legs over his shoulders and eat you out until you came so hard you couldn't breathe. 

"Put me down!" You squealed, feeling your body react involuntarily. 

He plopped you on your feet, giving you an inquisitive look, but keeping quiet. It always made you suspicious when he didn't ask questions.

"She's cranky, just like you thought." Jaskier explained. 

The trek into town was longer than you had hoped but, thankfully, Geralt had let Jaskier hitch a ride so you could make better time. If you'd had to have him riding double behind you, with his complements and natural flirting nature, you might have lost it. 

On entering the pub of the inn you'd booked you just sighed and ordered a stiff drink. The pest problem must have been nocturnal because there were barely any patrons. You eyed a group of men in the corner but upon catching some of their conversation you gave up. Though, Jaskier was getting on swimmingly with one of the barmaids. 

You scoffed and drained your drink, better to be numb with alcohol than this ridiculously horny. 

"You alright?" Geralt asked. There was an edge to his voice that you couldn't quite describe and it concerned you. 

"Define alright." You set your empty mug at the end of the table and crossed your legs.

He just raised his eyebrows at you.

You slapped a coin on the table and shot him a defiant glare, "I'm going to bed." You hoped to Melitele that he would leave you alone.

You didn't hear him following you until you'd made it halfway to the door of your room.

"What the fuck Geralt!? Can't a woman have a few minutes alone!?" 

There was a small smile playing at the edge of his lips as he walked past you to the door, "Is that really what you want?" 

Your eyes went wide for a moment before narrowing and following him into the room, pressing your back against the door as you closed it, "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Anyone ever told you you talk in your sleep?" He hadn't turned around to look at you yet, clearing his armor and bags off one of the beds.

Your ears were almost ringing and you felt that familiar light tug in the pit of your stomach, but you did your best to remain cautious, "No…" 

"Hmmm. Well you do." He finally turned to look at you, face completely unreadable, "Usually you just mumble incoherently, but this morning…" 

You swallowed hard, not sure whether to be embarrassed or apprehensive, "So what did I say?" 

He grinned and closed the distance between you, his hands came to rest on the door on either side of your head as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, "My name… 'harder'... make me cum for you…" 

Your whole body tingled at his words, your fingers twitched, wanting to curl around his collar and wind through his hair. There was no hope of dignity as you felt your heart rate spike when he leaned back to look you in the eyes.  

"Do you want me to? Make you cum for me? Over and over?" You could have sworn you felt his voice reverberate over your whole body.

Your own voice was breathy and desperate when you finally found it, "Fuck yes." 

His pupils dilated as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, running his fingers down your jaw, then neck with the lightest touch, "Are you sure?" 

You hooked your fingers through his belt loops and pulled him to you, "Yes." Your voice was firm and decisive, your brain finally catching up to your body, "Are you?" 

He chuckled softly, "Absolutely," he hooked a finger under your chin to hold your head steady as he kissed your forehead, cheeks, eyelids, nose, anything but your lips between every word, "You… drive… me… crazy… every… fucking… day… I've… wanted… you… for… months." 

You moaned in frustrated pleasure at the way only his words were affecting you, tugging at his belt blindly, "Such a tease…" 

With that he was gone, you opened your eyes to find him leaning against the bed frame, staring at you with a hungry expression, "Strip."

You unhooked your dress in the front, embarrassingly fast if you were honest, letting it fall to the floor leaving just your slip and stockings. Normally you'd be nervous, even with previous repeat lovers you'd been worried about showing all of you. But Geralt had treated wounds all over your body, he knew exactly what he was getting and the growing bulge in his pants told you he liked it. You tugged the silky straps of your slip over your shoulder and shifted just enough that it too pooled at your feet with your dress. 

"Shit…" he breathed, eyes roaming over your body like a man starved. 

You stepped out of the dress and your stockings and underwear, suddenly thankful your boots had a tear in them so you didn't have to fight to get them off. Standing between his legs you tugged at his shirt as you kissed him, surprised by how supple his lips were. He broke the kiss only to rip his shirt over his head, pulling you back to him immediately. You ran your hands over his chest, gripping the dark hair there with one hand while the other cupped his jaw. He uttered a low moan that sent fire through your body, your pussy absolutely aching for him. 

You gasped when his hands gripped your hips and held you to him as he fell back onto the mattress. He didn't miss a beat, rolling over you and pressing an urgent kiss to your lips.

"Geralt," you whined, helplessly grasping at his shoulders.

"What do you want?" He asked, more teasing than anything, kissing down your neck and across your collarbone.

"Make me cum. Please. I don't care how." You were almost embarrassed that you were already begging. 

He continued pressing kisses down your body, pausing to bite the skin beneath your breast, something you'd specifically told him you were less than pleased with about yourself, "Yes ma'am." He licked over the sting left behind by his teeth and continued his path down between your legs. He took his time making a trail of bite marks down your abdomen and across the inside of your thighs.

"Fuck Geralt. Please." You bucked your hips to him, desperate for his touch. 

He finally obliged, spreading your folds with one hand and gripping your hips with the other, "mmmm so wet for me." He almost said it to himself and the reverence in his voice was too much for you. 

Before you could say anything though he licked a stripe up your folds and you shivered as you moaned. His tongue found your clit as your hands gripped his hair, doing your best not to pull too hard. He moaned into your pussy, making you buck your hips against his arm. After so long with only your hands for pleasure your body was quick to respond. He picked up on this as he watched you writhe underneath him and inserted two fingers, devastatingly slowly. 

"Oohhh damnit Geralt. More." You begged, not caring who may hear through the thin walls. Immediately he added another finger, pumping and curling faster, in time with the flicks of his tongue at your clit. 

You felt that frenzied rush that comes right before bliss and tugged at his hair again. His groan sent you over the edge, shaking and praising his name like a sinner saved. 

He held your hips down, stroking and licking at your clit until your trembling subsided. 

You untangled your fingers from his hair and hooked your finger under his chin, guiding him back up to kiss you as you basked in the relief your body felt. The taste of you on his lips only reigniting the fire. 

"Feel better?" He ribbed, lying next to you and running his hands all over your body. 

You giggled as much at his words as the way his light touch tickled your skin, "Much." 

His hands squeezed your ass, pulling your thigh up over his hips, "Up for more?" 

You leaned into his kiss, palming his bulge beneath the fabric of his pants, "Absolutely." 

When his breath caught in his throat you beamed with pride, knowing this powerful man was putty in your hands. You unbuckled his belt and slowly pulled it from it's loops, tossing it somewhere behind you before you, making sure to look directly in his eyes. You bit your lip and brushed a hair from his eyes, enjoying the slight dilations and narrowing of his pupils as you moved on to the buttons at his waist. You had meant to tease him like he'd teased you but he rolled back and swiftly removed every last stitch of clothing before you could protest. 

"If you keep teasing me with that look in your eyes we'll never get there." 

He rolled back over top of you, swallowing your soft gasp in a kiss as his cock pressed against your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders, any thought of taking your time completely forgotten. He lined himself up so he was sliding through your folds, slick and throbbing in anticipation. 

"Fuck…" he gasped, falling down to one elbow. 

You brought a hand to the nape of his neck and kissed him gently, whispering against his lips as he panted, "Fuck me Geralt. Hard." 

A shiver ran over his whole body but he wasted no time guiding his head to your entrance, slowly pushing in. 

"OH my gods…" your fingers dug into where they gripped him, completely losing control at the sensation of being so full. You clenched around him, pulling a moan from his lips as he bottomed out against your cervix. He stilled except for his chest heaving over you, giving you time. 

After a moment you kissed him again, biting his lower lip as you pulled away, "Go." 

His hips drew back immediately at the command, snapping forward with a force you'd only dreamed of. He pressed a kiss to your nose, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort. You answered by thrusting your hips up to his, and tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck.  

He picked up a brutal pace, making your toes curl and turning your moans into grunts with the sheer force of his thrusts. You arched your back, pulling him as close to you as you could. His forehead pressed against yours, both of your eyes shut as your bodies were overwhelmed with the pleasure from the other's touch. 

"Just perfect for me." His voice was barely audible, picking up the pace even more than you thought possible. 

"I'm all yours darling." You thrust your hips up against his, finding the rhythm he'd set, "Harder, I can take it." 

He growled, the sound vibrating from deep within his chest as he slowed his pace but did exactly as you'd asked. His thrusts were pushing you up the bed, slamming the headboard against the wall with a force you thought might put a hole in it. 

You screamed his name, so close that you were seeing stars. 

Geralt fell to his other elbow, growling in your ear, "Cum for me."

The tension in your gut snapped as you writhed through your orgasm. Raking your nails down his back, you felt his hips stutter in one final thrust as your walls fluttered around him before he came, all growls and curses. If you'd been conscious of them, you might have been embarrassed by the senseless whines that escaped you. His thrusts slowed as you both slowly came down from the high, savoring every bit of the moments you could.

When you finally opened your eyes, his were still shut. You brushed your finger over his brow, almost amused that this would be the only time you didn't see them drawn together, letting yourself indulge in tracing his features. You let your legs fall from his hips as he slowly slid out of you and a sigh left your lips, happy and calm. His eyes finally opened when you tugged the tie out of his hair from where it was barely hanging on to a handful of strands. The way he looked at you made you want to melt, a mix of concern and awe that you'd never seen before. You smiled at him, giving his hips a gentle reassuring squeeze as if to say 'no you haven't broken me, and yes I'm better than fine'. His hair brushed your cheeks and neck as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep. You cradled his jaw in your hands, taking everything in with the nagging fear that he might pull away and leave you there. 

When he eventually did pull back it was only an inch or two, a shit eating grin plastered on his face, "Did I make your dreams come true?"

You rolled your eyes, swatting at his shoulder as he shimmied down your body just enough for his cheek to rest between your breasts.

"Sarcastic little shit..." you whispered, reveling in the comforting weight of his body on yours. He hummed a response and extended his arms up your torso,  caressing all the parts of you he could reach before settling on holding you close.

You rubbed the tops of his shoulders, his biceps, his back, kneading out knots when you came to them, willing him to relax. 

As you laid there, murmuring jokes and small vulnerable allowances, a voice in your head suggested you could be happy with each other, but you shooed it away. You'd rather enjoy it for what it was than get your hopes up. 

[peakascum]

With The Bulls

This was longer than I intended it to be. Nevertheless, hope you enjoy!

“What’s your biggest fear?” He asked, looking over to you with a serious face. “My biggest- what?” You laughed a little. “Oh come one,” he blushed, breaking eye contact, “it’s a valid question. Now, what is it?” He never was one for small talk. You hadn’t known John very long, having only started working for the company three months prior.

“Well, I don’t think I fear much,” you started, looking over at him, scanning his face, “but I do have this somewhat irrational fear, more like dread, that I won’t be able to read all the books I want before I die.” 

He stared at you intently, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. ‘How silly’, he thought. He never found joy in books but you, you couldn’t bare the thought of not reading them all before you died. “I told you it was stupid,” you said rapidly, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “It’s not stupid. I’ve never heard of anybody fearing that, but you’re not just anybody, eh?” 

“Oh shut it, John,” you laughed slapping his chest.

You weren’t good with numbers, but you spoke two languages and had a knack for logic and games. Tommy had hired you to translate certain documents and be a part of the strategic part of business, deals and such. When John first saw you walk in he thought you were the most precious thing in the world, a sight that made him, the most confident man in Birmingham, lose his ability to speak whenever you were around. Not being able to utter intelligent words, he settled for  accompanying you on your breaks. You both sipped tea and stole glances at each other every so often. He always noticed how you burned the tip of your tongue, too impatient to wait until the tea cooled. How you always got lost in thought doing your work, mind wondering to places he could never go. But he wanted to. He wanted to visit those places with you, accompany you on your daydreams and understand your irrational fear of not having enough time. 

After that conversation, John made it his mission to ask you about the books you were currently reading. Enthralled by your ability of story telling, he purchased the books and read them in his office or whenever he had the chance. A sight that startled the rest of the family. Startled everyone but Polly, that is. The matriarch of the family always knew what went on in their lives. She noticed the changes he made. Coming in earlier, preparing your tea, the faint smell of newly purchased cologne that lingered in the air whenever he passed by; and of course, the new habit of reading a book whenever he could.

He was subject to ridicule between his family and received funny looks at the Garrison whenever Harry came in to refill his glass. Of course, John didn’t even have a clue on what he was reading, he just knew you loved it and it gave him an excuse to talk to you. 

On a specific night, one not too cold and not too warm, the Blinders gathered around the pub in celebratory drinks. John had been watching you sit alone in the corner of the bar, content in your own loneliness. He admired that about you. John made his way over to you, eyes twinkling and palms sweating. “Y/N!” he said a little too enthusiastically, “let me buy you a drink.” His voice was eager, he knew this and so did she. “All right Shelby. I’ll take a whisky.” 

“I’ve never seen you down gin, let alone whisky,” he laughed, sliding the glass towards her.

“People can change.” you said, looking at him sipping the liquor. Little did John know that you too had been falling for him. Adopting his mannerisms, switching to whisky, and finding his antics to be endearing in ways you could not explain.

Their eyes twinkled every time they met, grasping and absorbing the other’s features as if it were the last time they would ever see one another. Half a bottle later, John took Y/N’s hands, swiftly making his way towards the doors. “John!” you laughed, “where are we goi- John!” He continued dragging you through Small Heath’s empty streets. He stopped abruptly making you trip over your own feet and said, “Stop worrying so much! Stop- stop thinking things over.” You giggled nervously, unsure of his motives. He stared at you hopefully, a look that made you want to stop daydreaming so much, because maybe, just maybe, reality wasn't so bad. And so they ran down the street. A pair of strangers, turned acquaintances, turned lovers. A drunk mess filled with all the goodness that life had to offer. Security, stability, sincerity, innocence, love. Laughing and singing and running all the way to the cut, making them feel five years younger. For Y/N, books were a mere escape from reality, a chance to make up pictures in her mind and feast on a character’s problems, maybe even travel to far out places and get lost overseas. For John though, Y/N was just that, a whole world within a single body, filled with stories and wonder and tenderness, something he thought he would ever have or even seek. 

After that night, they vowed to never lose sight of each other. His family, Polly especially, were delighted at the sight of John at ease, almost becoming the man he was before the war. 

All except Tom. Now, although you were the one that arranged the plans, schemes and meetings, some things were indeed kept under wraps. 

“Y/N, c’mere” Tommy called out. You hurried over to his office, passing a couple of men, who quickly diverted their eyes elsewhere. “Yes Tommy?” You asked, frowning a little. Arthur stood beside you in Tom’s office, looking down at his drink intently, as if it were whispering the most interesting things back at him. “I need you to translate these papers and have them at my desk by tomorrow morning.” He demanded, handing over a stack of documents. “But Tom,” you said taking them, “this will no doubt take me all day and I hav-“ 

“You have nothing, finish the documents and hand them over tomorrow. It’s your only job today.” He cut you off. You complied making your way out of his office, eyeing Arthur’s sulking figure before exiting.

Your hands worked quickly, copying each word in its precise translation. John came over to you quickly and peppered your face with kisses, “Tom wants us to do a job, pay a visit to the Lees, been causing us trouble,” he said, still kissing your cheeks making you look at him tenderly. “All right, be careful! Watch-“ 

“Watch your mouth. Don’t sulk. Don’t give in on the first offer. I know love, I know.” He mocked. You always said the same thing before he left to one of Tom’s “jobs”. You said your goodbyes and continued working. 

It hadn't even occurred to you how the office slowly emptied out. No blinders in sight. Polly hadn't even come out and little Finn was nowhere to be seen. It felt colder, too silent for your liking. Halfway through the paperwork, the words started to mold together in your head. You had translated these documents before. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Why would Tommy demand these documents, old documents? Maybe it was a mistake, but Tommy didn't make mistakes. The sound of the everlasting quietness got too overwhelming. Tommy didn't make mistakes. Your fingers skimmed through each letter, brows furrowed, back hunched. Silence closed in on you. You quickly gathered your purse and ran as fast as your feet could carry you. You had been to the Lee’s camp before and knew exactly which turns to take. As you approached you saw Tommy and Polly talking intently. 

“Those documents are old Tom.” You said crashing into him, eyes wild searching for a truth. “I told you to fucking stay behind and do your work. You have no business here.” He sighed and tried to pry your hands off him. “You don’t make mistakes Tom. What’s going on?” You begged, confusion written on your face. Polly stood beside you, a hand covering her mouth, as if it would stop the words from coming out. She looked at Tommy pleadingly, “Tell her Thomas. Tell her now.”

He looked at you and tucked a flower behind your ear, “This is a wedding, Y/N. John’s wedding.” 

A sick joke. A sick fucking joke. Something that would belittle the many stories you’ve read about love and heartbreak. “John’s wedding with who?” Tommy looked away, “John’s wedding with fucking who Tommy!” You shrieked, tears streaming down your face. “The Lee’s will declare war. This is an alliance.” You backed away from him shaking your head and looked at Polly for reassurance, but she couldn't meet your eyes. Her soul broke for you, knowing how you felt about each other. 

You quickly spotted John and ran to him, Tommy right behind you. “John! John!” Heads turned, eyes scanned your frantic figure. 

He cradled your head in his hands, “I didn't know, I didn't know I- what the fuck Tommy!” He wrapped his arms around you and stared at his brother with a murderous look in his eyes. “Tom please, please, Tom. We’ll run away, we’ll start some place else,” you pleaded holding on to John for dear life. “I’m sorry, it’s done.” 

The men started prying you both apart gently so as to not hurt you. Your screams and pleas could surely be mistaken for bloody murder. “I swear I will find you when I can, I’ll find you.”

“You will marry John-“

“Get the fuck off me Tommy you're dead to me!” John screamed at his brother’s emotionless eyes. 

“I swear I will find you once I am done here. I swore to never break your heart and I won’t start now. I love you, I love you, I love you Y/N.” He whispered frantically. You pecked his lips lazily and gently slipped something into his coat and backed away. 

He watched you slip away, slipping from his fingertips, the ones that grazed your skin hours earlier. He got close. So fucking close to getting the life he wanted. He made his way towards his bride to be, both his brothers by his side. As he reached into his pockets for a tooth pick his fingers curled around a foreign object. A book. The one you used to read to him whenever you escaped to the fields. The one filled with bullfights and your annotations, highlighting phrases that caught your eye. He vowed to take you to see the bulls. A book, your last love letter slipped quietly into his coat for him to keep forever. Arthur looked at him tenderly clutching the worn pages in his hand, a sight that filled the eldest brother with sadness. Another Shelby crushed by the reality of their lives.