#i really need to come up with a name for this story soon for sorting purposes

[lauvfool]

୨ৎ Back To Friends

.ᐟ FLUFF TO ANGST

Reo Mikage x Female Reader

... Content : Reo and [Name], two obvious soul mates that turn into strangers at last. INSPIRED BY WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU TANGERINES KDRAMA

୨ৎ ❝How can you look at me and pretend..i'm someone you've never met?❞

— !! [Name] had a relatively decent life. It wasn't comfortable, but bearable. She only lacked the wealth to build on her passions. Maybe that's why she couldn't yet platter her worth.

Reo Mikage had one purpose in life, being the world's number one striker. He had the access and money to do so. There wasn't much stopping him. So, how come he was so willing to give that up for a sense of life?

... The school bell rang, signaling the end of a lesson. A girl stood in the hallway, holding her heavy backpack over her head as a sort of punishment. The school she went to was prestigious, to say the least. People saw her as being out of place since, after all, she had no money to her name.

It was usual to see [Name] doing some type of discipline, whether it was running laps outside, cleaning the classrooms, or being forced to hold her bag over her head while sitting on her knees against the wall. No one really bothered to notice her.

Soft footsteps moved their way towards her. [Name] looked up, meeting the gaze of purple hues staring down at her. Reo sighed deeply before grabbing the backpack off her hands. "What did you do this time?" He hummed, sitting down next to her. It seemed that he didn't mind his white uniform would be ruined by the petty dirt on the ground.

"I talked back to a teacher, she told me I didn't write my own story," [Name] huffed out her response. Reo was used to her trouble. After all, they were childhood friends. It was surprising, a boy with everything and a girl with nothing. If they hadn't met when [Name] lunged at two kids picking at Reo at the playground, he would be bored out of his mind.

"Why are you still here? Your parents will get mad if you're not practicing soon," She said, her brow slightly raised in curiosity. He slowly stood up before shrugging, his hand extending to help lift her up. "...I didn't see you leave yet, so I came to look for you," The words left his lips like he didn't care, though his slight tone of hesitation gave him away.

"You're such a dork," [Name] snorted in response. Reo let out a humored scoff, swinging both their backpacks over his shoulder. His hands stuffed into his uniform pocket as they both walked out of the school.

"You're the brat with her hand in my pockets," He mentioned with a smug face. His hands lightly grazing hers, yet so defiant to interlock. That's how it usually was with the two, playfully arguing, teasing, and just normal conversations.

Now, here they are, walking home together like every other day. Both hands are in contact with each other but neither brave enough to hold each other.

Walking until they reach the bus stop [Name] always boards. Though this time, Reo gripped her hand a little. "You know I could always get someone to drive you?" He mentioned. How could she not know? He offers every time she needs to go, always wanting to spend more time with her.

[Name} shook her head in response. "Nope, my stepmom is making me watch my siblings today," She replied, retrieving her hand from his pocket. He felt the soft chill cover his instead of the warmth radiating from her touch.

No matter how much they tried to deny their feelings for each other, it always seemed obvious to everyone but each other. Wherever [Name] was, Reo followed behind her, tending to whatever she asked for. People tended to jump to the conclusion she was using him since he was rich, [Name] was quick to talk back no matter who it was.

So even if they're running together, hand in hand, through arrays of flowers, no one can tell them how to feel. Surrounded by flowers designed with four petal and an astonishing yellow color. Like small suns in a cross like pattern drawn to stems and bunched together.

Or when they're sitting together on a small empty patch between the canola flowers, looking across from one another. Just like now, sitting, looking up at the sky, waiting. Waiting for one of them to talk or something to happen.

"Do you plan on going to a university after high school?" Reo asked, the question almost forced from his lips. He already knew the answer. Everyone did. The purple haired male only wanted to encourage her long talks. [Name] suddenly had a small smiled on her face.

"I want to..." Her voice full of compassion and empty dreams. "But, my family doesn't plan on sending me, we don't have the money." Her tone faltered, yet quickly shaken off. "How about you?"

Reo pursed his lips in a line. "I don't plan on it. Just doing something with football is enough for me," He stated, his hand covering hers. Her gaze drifted over to him from the action.

"You know...I can send you to university, any one you want," Reo lightly squeezed her hand as he bashfully looked up at her. [Name] scoffed at his comment, snatching her hand and crossing her arms over her chest as she let herself fall down on the blanket on the ground. A small thud was heard as she looked back up at the sky.

"I don't want to burden anyone with my financial problems," [Name] mattered. "I don't care if I don't become an author. Just as long as I get married to a good man, not for money, not for anything other than love! I want a big family too!" She exclaimed.

Reo let out a small hum of acknowledgment. "I'll marry you," He said lowly. His words seemed excessive, but in all truth, other than football, he'd want to stay by her side. His pale hand yet again took a hold of her hand. Lifting her up to sit up next to each other.

"I'll pay for your university. Let you be an author, anything you want. I'll...I'll give you a big family like you want." He said. His thumb grazing over the soft skin of her knuckles. Purple eyes that clashed with the soft yellow hue of the flowers staring at her with a sort of declaration.

[Name] tried to tug her hand away, but his grasp tightened. "Don't waste yourself with me. You know your parents don't even like us as friends." She awkwardly said. Though deep down, her heart was thumping loudly inside her chest.

He sure didn't waste time pushing his lips against hers. His hand still held onto hers with a strong grip but slowly relaxed. It was quick, maybe just a second before pulling away. She didn't even have enough time to kiss back or push away.

"But every time you're with me, your lips are always shiny! And you're always putting your hand in my pocket... and letting me follow along with you even if people think lowly of us." Reo listed out, avoiding eye contact with her.

"It's lipgloss! I've been ready...since we were kids," She cleared her throat. Reo blinked, looking up at her through his long, thick lashes that any girl would be jealous of. With his stupid purple eyes that looked at her like some type of lost puppy.

"Just...just kiss me again!" [Name] exclaimed, sounding demanding but her stutter giving away her hesitation. It didn't take more than that for Reo to press his lips against hers. They both didn't know what they were doing, new to love, yet their shared kiss so passionate. The tilt of his head further deepened it. A shy hand holding a side of her face as the other held hers still.

Even in the field of flowers with the fluttering rustic, floral scents. The gentle touch of each other's lips stuck and basking in the time spent. Pulling away slowly to a small gasp of air. Foreheads pressed against one another, eyes still closed as they replayed the events that had formerly happened.

"Don't let yourself be stuck with me. Okay? If you want to make me happy then...then don't even think about being with me," [Name] sighed, slowly pulling away from him. Reo looked at her with a frown formed on her face. The small feeling of being let down at her words.

..."I'm leaving for a while, I'm going to a football program called Blue Lock." Time had passed since they shared their first kiss, the canola flowers had begun to slowly die down, that didn't stop them from standing in the middle of the field.

"When will you be back?" [Name] asked, her heart once again thumping inside her chest in resignation. She regretted asking that question, much more pushing him away.

Reo shoved his hands in his pockets, this time, they felt empty without hers packed with his. "I...don't know," He swallowed down the uncertainty in his throat as he stared down at the ground.

[Name] fiddled with her hands as a sign of not knowing what to do. The air filled with unsaid words, actions that were not to be done, feelings that were not yet expressed. Yet they stood, not knowing when the next time they would both stand in the canola fields would be.

Days, weeks, months had passed, and time seemed slower than before. Or maybe it was the lack of company that bothered her. The older woman teased at her for allowing her 'boyfriend' to slip away so easily. For once, she bit her tongue and didn't say the rush of emotions she had.

"You know, just give up on being an author. You won't make that much money," [Name]'s stepmother said, chopping up food into thin slices with her back turned. "You're better suited for a wife or mother, if you're looking, there's this man who I know. He can get you to that dumb university you want." She continued.

[Name] carried her stepbrother on her hip as she played along with her other siblings. "He's just a couple of years older, good money, and he's looking for a wife to marry. Maybe when you get out of high school, you'll be interested," The woman offered. [Name] sighed as she gently set her brother down, making her way to the kitchen.

"Mh, maybe..." She mumbled. Her stepmother noticed her lack of expression, lightly sighing in response. "What? Stuck up on that rich kid? You'll forget him soon enough, or it'll be the other way around."

Yet, she couldn't tear her eyes away from looking for him on the screen, broadcasting a few of Blue Lock's games. "Maybe..." [Name] muttered, glancing away only to be drawn back.

The U-20 Japan against Blue Lock game ended up in Blue Lock's victory, earning them a week off from the program. [Name] had watched the game, focused on the purple haired player who was substituted in. As well as the lazy white-haired male he was friends with in action.

Even with a break, Reo couldn't bring himself to try and contact [Name]. There had been unspoken emotions that they hadn't talked out. Yet was it a coincidence that they ended up face to face in the lone streets of their hometown.

His eyes met her for a second before continuing to walk away. His gaze wasn't love filled like before, a bit more empty, as if they hadn't known each other. Like everything they had been through was just forgotten memories.

The small rain pelting above them formed black clouds that fogged up their emotions even more. [Name] pursed her lips, trying to form a sentence at his lack of words.

"Will you just act like we're strangers?"

Though her words were muffled by the rain, he still heard it. Stopping in his tracks, pestered by her stubbornness to not let him go. He didn't respond. No. He just kept walking away as if she wasn't the one talking to him.

"You said you'll marry me, and now you ignore me?! You kiss me and make me fall for you just to leave me with no response?" [Name] yelled out. There was no mistaking the tears that ran down her face for rain. He heard her silent sobs but kept walking, one foot in front of another.

"I won't wait for you!" She sobbed out. He bit his lips to stop himself from running back and embracing her in the rain. To stop himself from abandoning everything just for her.

It was no surprise that when Blue Lock was finally over in the spring when they were freshly 18. With new experiences to be sought out. Though the gossiping older woman who ran shops nearby made sure Reo knew all he missed out.

"You know, that [Name] is dating a man so much older than her," One of them whispered, directed towards Reo. Another hissed in disapproval. "Essh, that poor girl, it's what will send her to university, I suppose." She sighed.

"How old is he?" Reo questioned. He couldn't help but ask a few questions that ran in his mind. "Twenty-three, sure they're both young, but there's a clear difference between an eighteen year old and a man who is already twenty!" The elder lady in charge of the local convenience shop shook her head.

"Seems like they're planning on getting married soon," One of the women before added. "Don't shy away from stealing your girlfriend back, okay?" They turned their attention to Reo. He could only awkwardly chuckle at their comment.

He'll act like he doesn't care but ended up so distracted he didn't even realize when he finally made it home. Much less when he was at the dinner table, stabbing at the food on his plate.

"What? Finally heard [Name] moved on? It was doomed from the beginning, that girl just leeches off of money," Reo's mom asked, shaking her head. The purple haired male clutched the utensil in his hand.

"You don't know anything about her," He muttered. His eyebrows narrowed in a serious expression. "The more you wait to make things right, the more she gets swept away," His dad said, earning a glare from his wife.

The boy emitted a sigh full of confusion and worry. "What's the point? She already plans on marrying him..." Reo muttered. He tried to just shrug it off, but he couldn't. Not when the girl in question was the one he shared his first kiss with, the one who stuffed her hand in his pocket, the one he promised the world to.

Maybe that's why there was no stopping him when he dashed out the house. With nothing but his phone in hand. And only one thing lingering in her mind, one person. [Name].

It felt natural he ended up in front of her house. Before he knew it, he had already knocked, followed by footsteps slowly getting closer. "Who is..." [Name] opened the door, staring at the boy in front of her door. "...it?" She had finally finished her question.

"Why?" That was all he managed to slip out his mouth. He clenched his fists, nails leaving crescent shaped marks on his skin. "Why are you with an older man who can give you the things that I can?!" Reo had unknowingly raised his voice out of frustration.

"It doesn't matter." [Name] scoffed. Crossing her arms over her chest. "Go home, Reo, it's late," She went to close the door, but his grasp intercepted. "No. Please," His voice visibly got weaker.

"Just date me. You don't need him. I can give you everything you want and more," Reo pleaded, tightening his grip on her hand. "I said I wouldn't marry for money..." She mumbled. Her gaze straying from his.

Reo lightly scoffed, "You expect me to believe you truly love that dude enough to marry him? He's five years older than you. Five. What could you possibly have in common with him?!" He didn't mean to yell, but he was so stressed that he was losing her.

"So what!? It's my life!" [Name] exclaimed. Reo furrowed his brows at her statement. "Yes, yes it is, so why are you wasting it on someone like him?!" He questioned. She just bit down on the inside of her cheek. "Just let it go. I've moved on, so should you." [Name] muttered.

Reo cupped a side of her face,still holding onto her hand. He tried to blink back tears from falling down his face. "So why are your lips still so glossy...?"

Written for @jupiterveil thank you for the request baddie sorry for taking 10000 years

[uncleasad]

The 🌶️spicy🌶️ type of scene/fic really isn’t my forte, but every once in a while, my brain throws me an idea in this area (I have occasionally tried writing said ideas, but it never really feels right). And sometimes, like this week, my brain won’t let go of a scene until I actually write the ^(&*%#@=+$! scene.

So if you were wondering what sorts of things notorious rockstar Yelena might get up to in that idea from earlier in the week, here’s (most of) a scene. (I don’t imagine the rest of the fic, if I ever get around to writing it, being this spicy…but I didn’t imagine this scene to begin with, so who knows. Rockstars, y’all.)

Hopefully, with this scene now exorcised, it means I can finish Burning Yelena this weekend, though…this is Day 21 for the short little one-shot 🫣

Rockstar Yelena scene below the cut, unedited, just the way it deluged from my brain to my fingers…

Kate was lounging in the fluffy green comfortable chair in the reading nook, scrolling on her phone while her boss was on the shower. She felt bad that she was surrounded by all these books yet was mindlessly scrolling through social media—and not hers, not even Yelena’s, but ‘Stupid Dog Tricks’—instead of reading, but all the glorious old tomes lining the walls of the nook were in Russian. And Kate, alas, still did not speak Russian, much less read it. And she never thought to carry a book with her. Thus the mindless scrolling. Wasting time, numbing her mind. The assistant’s stupor was broken soon enough, however, by the honey tones of that sexy Russian accent.

“Kate. Kate Bishop. I need your assistance!”

“Uh…coming!” The raven-haired woman shoved her phone into the pocket of her black leather pants and strode across the bedroom to the bathroom, where she froze on the spot, jaw dropping as her brain short-circuited.

Standing there in all her glory was Yelena Belova, all five feet three inches of her, naked as the day she was born. Her short blonde hair was slick and combed back. Her skin glistened from the shower, despite the presence of the damp towel on the floor behind the singer. Kate’s eyes trailed down the short, fit body. The wisps of armpit hair peeking out of that crevice. Those tender dumplings topped with firm pink nubs, pierced vertically with the red hourglass piercings. Toned abs and arms and firm stomach. Cute little belly button. Her temple, elegantly landscaped with that same hourglass motif, this in natural blonde, and pink lips. Muscular thighs that enabled the rockstar’s athletic performances, fine blonde fuzz descending towards the ankles. And the elegant feet, capped off with the bright red nail polish.

Kate felt her blood rush to her face—and pool in her own erogenous zones. Her heart not only was still beating, but it was pumping with alacrity. She could feel the rise and fall of her chest, which meant she was still breathing, too, but her brain still seemed not to have rebooted. It was stuck on one—no, two…three!—thoughts in a loop: how stunningly beautiful her boss was (Exhibit A, Kate Bishop, currently stunned), how much she wanted to put her lips on those pierced pink nubs and suck, and how she longed to be on her knees between the blonde’s legs, face and lips and tongue worshipping at the temple of Yelena Belova.

“Kate. Kate Bishop.” That sexy accent, that alluring voice, the way they combined when saying her fucking name…that finally pulled the assistant out of her delirium.

“Uh…yeah? Yes. Boss!”

“You look like you have never seen a woman’s body before. You have only one fork…do you have no mirror? Do you never look down?” Yelena, far from teasing, sounded legitimately concerned. “How will you know if a mole starts growing and you need to see a doctor?”

“I…uh…” How could Kate tell her boss, rockstar Yelena Belova, queer icon, that her assistant had seen her fair share of women’s bodies before—OK, most of them had been in museums; she had nowhere near the body count of the singer-slash-guitar-goddess, if the stories were to be believed—but none of them could compare to the masterpiece standing before her. That Yelena was exquisite and that Kate would sell her soul to the devil for the chance to worship it.

“I am worried about you, Kate Bishop. We will have to assess your sex education, because in this line of work, it is a most necessary area of education. You will find all manner of people wanting to sleep with you to have a taste of the allure of The Black Widows.”

Kate was doing her best to keep her eyes locked on her boss’s green orbs during the conversation…but it was difficult, and she slipped, although thankfully the singer didn’t seem to mind.

“But that will have to wait until tomorrow. The matter at hand needs your attention.” Yelena motioned to the bathroom counter, on which rested a roll of black electrical tape and a pair of scissors.

Kate furrowed her brows in confusion, so her boss then gestured to the shirt hanging on the other side of the bathroom. If you could call it a shirt, that is. It maintained the shape of a shirt, had a neck and hems, but otherwise was essentially a white fishnet. The raven-haired woman’s brain had rebooted to the point where she was able to put everything together. Classic Yelena Belova rockstar chic…and there was no doubt that it would look the best braless. But this was New York, not Europe, so no nipples. So…oh! She needed Kate to apply the electrical tape across her nipples.

She could do this, Kate kept telling herself. They were just nipples; everyone on the planet had them. They weren’t perhaps the most famous pair of nipples on the planet, no. Just garden-variety human nipples. With shaky fingers, the assistant peeled a strip of tape off of the roll, snipping it at…an inch and a half would provide sufficient coverage, but two inches would give superior adhesion.

“Make it two,” the rockstar interjected, sensing Kate’s dilemma. “Inch and a half is sexier, but you would not want to bail me out of jail for indecent exposure, da.”

“Da. Nyet?” Kate snipped the tape at two inches, then positioned it hovering over her boss’s right nipple, and gently applied it, crossing at a roughly 45 degree angle, smoothing the ends of the tape across Yelena’s petite breast. She repeated the process, using the opposite 45 degree angle this time, leaving a black X covering the singer’s nipple and aureola. Then she repeated the entire set of actions again, this time on the left nipple. When she was finished, Kate sprung back, as though recoiling from a hot burner.

Yelena looked down, then turned and looked in the mirror. She gently lifted her breasts with her hands and let them fall, observing the tape remaining fixed in place. The rockstar turned to face her assistant once again, seemingly unconscious of the fact that she remained completely naked—except, now, for the taped nipples. “Excellent work, Kate Bishop. Your fingers are as talented as they look.”

[leotheponderer]

So...I've been tagged by @agirlandherquill who was tagged by @katwritesshit to participate in a tag game from @halfbakedspuds, so here goes!

Rules: Answer as many (or as few) of the questions about your WIP as you can.

1. What was the first part of your WIP that you created?

The Prologue, featuring Kato(Death, Psychopomp, Thanatos), Halcyon(Sleep, Hypnos) and Basile(World, Hades, Persephone) dubbed The Old World Trio because they're the only beings from the Old World who still exist in the New World. The first location I visualised was the Border, which is where souls go before being taken to the Underworld.

The Border.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the intro song be?

[The Main Character by Will Wood] I love this song and it fits Kato's personality very well, especially during the Prologue. I can imagine Kato, Halcyon and Basile singing this together with Kato playing the Piano.

Abstract Kato playing the piano.

3. Who are your favourite character(s) and why?

My favourite has to be Kato, since they're the first character I ever created so I have lots of fond memories of going about developing their character. Halcyon came later as Kato's twin, and I grew to love their dynamic as siblings who then formed a found family with Basile. Halcyon would call Kato out on their bullshit and keep them in check while Basile is the reliable rock of the group.

Abstract Kato on the top and Abstract Halcyon on the bottom.

4. What other pieces of media could share a fan base with your WIP?

Some Rise of the TMNT fans may notice some similarities between Leo and Donnie's dynamic (the disaster twins) and Kato with Halcyon. I did base some of their personalities on the duo, Kato being Leo and Halcyon being Donnie, so that's not a surprise. There's also a found family dynamic (and FANTASY :D), so I think fans of Avatar: The Last Airbender and Ninjago could like the Prologue too!

5. What has been your biggest struggle while writing your WIP?

Coming up with names! I really struggled with naming everyone, especially Kato because I wanted the best for them and also because Thanatos and Death in general is hard to work with. I still do not have a name for my story, though I'm working on it. Plot and writing is also hard, so is visualising. (In summary, everything.)

My earliest digital drawing. Abstract Kato increasing their collection.

6. Are there any animals in your story?

Plenty! I have not touched the main world yet, but I do know the New World is teeming with life. The Underworld and the Border on the other hand, have its very own bioluminescent inhabitants like the Glow Fishes, the massive Blue Dragon and the Soul Butterflies. Now that I think about it, the Underworld really resembles the spirit world from Avatar.

Some animal concepts.

7. How do your characters get around?

Probably on foot, though I have though about using their powers, like shadow travel from Nico di Angelo. Some of them have physical wings like Volaria and Felix (bird people), while others like Kato and Halcyon in the Prologue have more spiritual ones. Maybe they have animal companions, summons or just teleport through plantlife (Basile).

Abstract Felix flying in a marathon.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I'm mostly working on the Prologue, with small bits of the First Interlude and the Main Story. I haven't started on the Epilogue yet, only the things I want to see happen like Halcyon and Basile going on a journey together.

9. What aspects of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

Realistically speaking, art tends to get the most attention on Tumblr. In order to do that I'll need to work harder on drawing to show my story through visuals, and not just words. I'll have to doodle my way into people's hearts!

A place in the Old World.

Whew, that was a long one. I don't really know many people who have WIP stories since I'm pretty new to Tumblr, so I hope they don't mind me tagging them: @hansenesque @drawnecromancy @the-arcade-doctor @devgel7889

Anyone who wants to play this game can join in on the fun too!

Note: There are nine questions in total, listed here.

1. What was the first part of your WIP that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the intro song be?

3. Who are your favourite character(s) and why?

4. What other pieces of media could share a fan base with your WIP?

5. What has been your biggest struggle while writing your WIP?

6. Are there any animals in your story?

7. How do your characters get around?

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

9. What aspects of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

[tastesousweet]

⭒ crush

| hamzahthefantastic x youtuber!reader au

summary: hamzah has a crush that is extremely obvious to everyone except you ... somehow?! (both written & smau!!!)

a/n: happy new years!!!!!!

— march 2024

hamzah is hungry beyond belief.

martin's already assured him both over facetime and text that he's on his way with their full course meal of chinese takeout— currently sat in the basket of martin's rented bike, jostling up and down with every bump of the toronto pavement without a doubt. yet his stomach is still throwing a tantrum, depraved of any nutrients while his brain repeats in a neanderthal-like manner "food. coming. soon." in hopes of reducing the pressure within his poor stomach.

he opens instagram, needing some sort of an escape, because naturally a little doom-scrolling will ease his (dramatic but still very real) pain. somehow, among the ridiculous animal reels and comedic twitch clips on his explore feed, he stumbles upon a reel from you. a girl with a different quality and charm to your face and character than anything he's seen in other content creators.

not only does your bubbly yet elegant voice keep him watching but the subject matter is rather fitting— you're cooking a homemade chicken pot pie for the first time. in the video you talk about how often your mother would prepare it growing up and now it's become a popular craving for you. hamzah watches intently as if he were ready to get up and make his own pot pie alongside you.

"hey! the hell are you smiling at?" martin's voice is breathy due to his trek to and from the chinese restaurant. he walks into the living room holding a crinkly plastic bag reading: "thank you! have a nice day!" with that big, yellow smiley face in between.

"huh? nothin'." hamzah dismisses and adjusts himself on the couch, "come on, 'm starving!" he reaches his hand out to take the food from martin before patting the seat next to him.

ᡣ𐭩 ��｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— june 2024

"so when are you gonna come see us?"

it was a surprise to see hamzah follow you on instagram a few months ago. you'd heard his name thrown around in certain spaces of the internet but never really indulged in any of his content.

his instagram had the format of a shitposting ten-year-old but it only made you curious about the humorous twenty-something. eventually you'd watched a youtube video of his; completely laughing your ass off and finding your eyes chasing after hamzah whenever he was in even the tiniest of frames.

it was never a serious crush by any means, just a nice piece of secret eye-candy who also happened to have a great personality and an enviously good work ethic (the effort martin and hamzah put into their videos was astonishing to you).

so you were quite nervous to be the first to dm him, in hopes of a friendship or a least a quick exchange of "hey." it was only right — you two had been liking each other's poss and stories a consistent amount.

the mellow first exchange between the two of you in april blossomed into you both constantly talking in your free time; your friendship quickly to developed a flirty back-and-forth dynamic that sometimes borders on way more than platonic. eventually martin was added to your consistent facetime calls and you’ve even let them convince you to create a discord account to play minecraft and grand theft auto online with them.

and now you’re lying on your leather couch with both of their faces displayed in your laptop’s screen, eager to hear your response.

“i don’t know…” you play with a loose end of the sweater you’re wearing, “what would we even do?”

they both stay quiet for a moment before hamzah laughs, “why are you acting like you don’t wanna say yes right now?”

a smile slowly grows on your face “okay… gimme a second,” you begin to google flight information to and from toronto.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— september 2024

yourusername

Liked by clairedrake, hamzahthefantastic, and others

yourusername Y’all didn’t tell me they get wild in the 6 , Omg??!! Highly requested video out neow <3

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chaserutherford 🍽️8️⃣ • ♥︎ by author

yourusername I rlly do miss u already 😖😖😖😖

ynfan01 ohhhh this was so necessary thank u mother☺️!! • ♥︎ by author

yourusername Mhm!!! Olivia Wilde head nod 💞💞

slushieeee333 y/n: slurping pasta , hamzah the whole time: 😊👀😍😊

thatmartinkid hey look ma i made it!!! 🫵😂 • ♥︎ by author

ynsnumberone THE FLIRTING WENT CRAZYYYYY

slushedyn her and hamzah are obsessed with each other i fear

thatslushykid COME BACK 2 TORONTO ASAP I NEED MORE COLLABS RN!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

hamzahluver45 ok but like it’s so obvious that her trying to flirt was just irritating them the whole time !! Like girl ..💀💀

hamzahthefantastic Posting our dms is already one thing , but TAGGING ME is actually crazy 🤔🤔 • ♥︎ by author

yourusername R u mad @ me Bby???? 😕

hamzahthefantastic BruhLmaooooooooooo

freakzahfan that's one too many "o"s just say u wanna kiss her my boy

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“oh!” you accidentally trip over yourself while walking backwards and stumble into hamzah, who was standing in front of the unfamiliar grocery store, watching you prepare to give an intro. “jesus,” martin laughs under his breath from behind the camera. he lowers the camera, showing his feet but still picking up his voice in the mic, “you good?!”

the clip cuts to you stood upright again, "i'm in the six!!!" you exclaim loudly, raising your arms above your head. "and i'm here with slushy noobz to add to my series where other creators "teach me" their specialty. you tug at hamzah's arm and pull him into the frame with you, "hamzah tell them what you and martin are gonna teach me," you look up a him while still holding onto his arm. you interrupt him before he even begins to speak, "oh yeah! martin is also here by the way!" you point and martin flips the camera to himself. "they're just leaving me out it's fine, i know i'm out already, just vote just vote," he references with a sigh before turning it back to you and hamzah. "don't start! chase is on his way to come and film for us-" "listen! this is our plan-- we're gonna teach you how to mukbang; everyone knows we're very qualified in this field and know everything there is to know about the subject, so, uhh, yeah we're kinda experts. i dont know, would you say that, martin?" hamzah rambles. "yeah, i think that's a good way to describe us" "perfect! then you're teachin' me how to kiss next, right?" you ask. hamzah goes from looking at you attentively (hanging onto your every word) to a face deadpanned as he glances over to martin trying not to smile.

the video cuts to a clip with the three of you, finally, all in one shot now that chase is behind the camera. you pull a cart out from its slot and push yourself on it before standing both feet on top of the tiny foot bar, gliding through the automatic doors.

next, a clip of martin speaking to the camera while you and hamzah look through different pasta sauces together, "okay we didn't really explain this well but essentially we're all going to cook a nice dish and then eat it together in front of you guys. isn't that cute?" "yeah, can't wait for us to mukbang together" hamzah speaks. martin turns back to the camera with a smirk, "i bet you wish you were mukbanging with us huh, chase?" "no. and you just made that word up." martin's face falls.

the entire grocery shopping trip is filmed with little moments like hamzah mispronouncing a few brand names, martin talking to strangers about which pasta noodle to try, and you randomly walking off into estranged aisles "just to see if things are really different here"

now, you're all back at martin's home; you read aloud the recipe and hamzah is stood practically on top of you as he also looks down at the phone, all while martin lays ingredients out of the counter. "okay simple enough," hamzah says. "yeah, and you're still gonna make me do all of the work anyway," martin huffs sarcastically. you giggle a bit, "martin the most you'll have to do is boil water, i'll force him to do the rest." "huh???!! who??" hamzah questions, his smiley face “accidentally” leaning far too close to yours. "you, duh!" you laugh and turn away to look for a large pot.

throughout the cooking process you slowly stop helping; talking to mandy while you two eat chips and salsa while leaning on the counter or petting the pets instead of doing any of the tasks given to you from the self-proclaimed chefs.

"this is literally your video! what the hell y/n?!" martin whines when he finds you and mandy making a tiktok in his "man cave" together after you'd told them you were going to the bathroom, "seriously mandy?" all of the audio can be heard from the mics on your clothing. "where was she?" hamzah says monotonous as he scrolls on his phone. "making freaking tiktoks with mandy of course!" you giggle as you walk into the kitchen behind him, "what? the food is practically done, we're just waiting on garlic bread!" you shrug and hamzah immediately turns at the sound of your voice. "well, you gonna at least show us?" hamzah asks casually placing his hands on the counter around you, trapping you in the space between him and the marble surface. "yeah," you tilt your head so you can look at his face as you make fun of his not-so-friendly gesture, "you wanna keep breathing down my neck like that while i show you?" he laughs and moves away to cover up the embarrassment of being called out. "stop!" you laugh and bring him back into frame forcing him and martin to watch you and mandy dance on your phone screen.

the four of you sit on the carpet with plates full of chicken alfredo and pieces of garlic bread laid out on martin’s coffee table. you all talk about your experience in toronto so far, how you and hamzah first met, … et cetera.

martin attempts to teach you canadian slang: “keener is big here.” “actually? what the hell does that even mean?” “it’s kinda like a try hard— people will call you a keener if you’re doing too much, basically.” “wait tell me more!” “i mean things like buddy is way too common here. some random old guys will call me that and it always throws me off??” “yeah they always say it so demeaning,” hamzah laughs. “do you guys actually say ‘eh?’ all the time? i feel like i haven’t noticed it a lot.” you ask genuinely. “i won't lie.. i say it more often than i like to admit!” mandy says. you’ve noticed that no matter if you’re the one speaking or not hamzah’s eyes keep glancing and sometimes full on staring at you (he really doesn’t mean to but he thinks he’s finally processing that you’re actually here with them after months of wanting this) you're flattered nonetheless.

at some point hamzah and martin recreate a scene in lady and the tramp, successfully slurping at the same noodle until hamzah retreats and martin sighs at his lack of commiting to the bit. you laugh along before asking hamzah’s to share a noodle with you with a smile slapped over your face, “me next?” he fights off any blushing with a roll of his eyes and his response of, “yeah? ask me again in a sec.”

after you’ve all finished eating, you complete the video with a big smile and a promise of more collaborations in the future.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

•••

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being the non-mc significant other of lead guitarist! Sylus.

"The usual?" You have the owner a smile and a nod. "You're late, it's already the four and last set." The pub owner spoke, preparing your drink. "That's because Sylus doesn't know I'm here. It's a surprise." You wink at her.

Imagine engaging on a conversation with the owner, the one you are actually close with given the fact that Sylus and the boys were the one that introduced you to her. She was a lovely lady with a bit of mystery around her. Keeping yourself occupied as you wait for the band to come into the stage.

Imagine preoccupied with your catching up with the owner, you did not notice that they were already on the stage. It wasn't until you heard a familiar strumming of electric guitar that you knew very well who belongs to that made you pause mid sentence and look at the direction of the stage.

Imagine being excited, its been a while since you have seen the boys, let alone your lover perform, having your own lives to begin with, you were quite busy nowadays, so now is the perfect time for a surprise. You even picked up a very unique guitar pick on the way here, designed just for him. He have been complaining about his old ones, ones you are pretty sure he could easily replace, nonetheless it was as if he was giving you some sort of hint.

Imagine the way you look back at the owner, only to see some sort of complicated look on her face. Soon enough you knew why. "Honey, why you calling me so late?" You knew that voice. "It's kinda hard to talk right now." You knew that fucking voice. "Honey, why you crying, is everything okay?" It felt like the world stop, but it didn't. In fact, it continues. Painfully. "I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud"

Imagine, Sylus was never the best singer. There was a reason why he was the lead guitarist and not the vocalist. But the thing is, when he tries, when he tries hard enough. He really singings well. You have heared him, even laugh at him. But of boy did you love him singing. When he sings it was always full of emotion. Like unwritten stories yet to say and unfold. Like hidden feelings waiting to be heard. He only singing when it's important. He only sings for you. Or so you though.

"It's funny that you're calling me tonight." You watch silently, at the side the way he looks in the crowd. Then his eyes soften, "And, yes, I've dreamt of you too." You knew you shouldn't have followed his gaze, you don't want to get hurt nor confirm anything, but you still did. And boy, it fucking hurts. "And does he know you're talking to me? Will it start a fight?" There he was looking at her, MC. "No, I don't think she has a clue."

Imagine, you always wonder why they broke up. They were so perfect for each other. But then again, that was all in the past? Right? You knew Sylus loves you. You knew he does, but you also knew that she was there first. Before you there was her. How could you even compare yourself to her? She was well loved my everyone, heck, even you could tell how much of a lovable person she was. That's why you always wonder, why you? Still, Sylus always made you feel like you were enough. But you aren't really sure anymore.

"Well, my girl's in the next room, sometimes I wish she was you." She laughs, exchanging words with her friend as she sat there in front, eyes never looking away at Sylus. "I guess we never really moved on." Sylus was looking at her softly, he was looking at her with something in his eyes.

Imagine you found yourself back to all those years ago. Amongst the crowd as you watch the two stare at each other. You felt like a bystander as you did all those years ago. "It's really good to hear your voice saying my name, It sounds so sweet" When Sylus sings, it holds a meaning. It means this moment, this very moment is important for him. "Coming from the lips of an angel. Hearing those words, it makes me weak."

"I need to go." You do not know why you felt awfully calm, heart beating wildly at your chest makes you wonder why. "I'm s-" You just raise a hand and smile at her. Funny it felt numb when your heart literally have broken into tiny little pieces. "I'll come back to my tab later." "And I never wanna say goodbye."

Imagine the way you slowly make it out of the pub. Your heart weighting heavily on your chest. Taking every bit of you strength to prevent yourself from crying. Dragging your feet as you walk and took a deep breath to compose yourself. "But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful." You did not look back, you don't want to. And finally, you grab a hold of the door and push it. "With the lips of an angel." And so you were out the door.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: Sana all bakasyon na, sabaysabay tayong mag dusa.

[writethrough]

I Know Better

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.

Warnings: Language, slut-shaming

Word Count: 1396

A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.

I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  

This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.

And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.

I hope you enjoy!

Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me

"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 

Moodboard by @saradika

Billy Hargrove never scared you. 

Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 

You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 

You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 

Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 

He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 

You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 

It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 

You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 

You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 

Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 

In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 

You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 

“Wanna say that again?” 

Your brows pulled in confusion. 

What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 

It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 

Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 

He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 

Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 

Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 

I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 

No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 

Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 

The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 

At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 

You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 

“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 

“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 

“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 

Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 

It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 

He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 

“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 

You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 

This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 

But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 

“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 

There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 

“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 

“You’ll have mine.” 

The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 

You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 

— 

That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 

He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 

“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 

“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 

He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 

“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 

You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 

You took a shot in the dark. 

“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 

His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 

So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 

But why? 

And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 

You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 

“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 

“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 

At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 

“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 

“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 

Of course, that was what he took away. 

“Billy,” you warned playfully. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 

You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 

“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 

“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 

Names.  

You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 

You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 

He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 

“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 

“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 

He leaned his elbows on the table. 

“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 

Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

[0mg-bird]

i would love it if you wrote anything with a shy reader and bob, but no pressure!

Two shy characters? I love it.

Shy Reader x B. Floyd

Summary: At the Navy bar your friends drag you to, you come across an aviator who isn’t like the rest of them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, fluff!, Bob is so cute I wanna put him in my pocket even though I know he’s a grown man.

A/n: I did something a little different than my Jake story, hope you don’t hate it <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I really wish we could have just stayed at the restaurant.” You awkwardly laugh as your friends, Ashley and Steff, pull you along with them.

“Oh come on, it’s my birthday so we’re going to get drunk and find a soldier to take home. One for each of us.” Steff says, already slightly tipsy from dinner.

You hide your frown, adjusting your curled hair and fiddle with your top.

You’ve never been into the Hard Deck, that’s what starts off your unsureness. You weren’t one for public outings, you enjoyed the company of your friends but they were always more adventurous than you.

There’s music playing and lots of people mingling, you’re practically hiding behind Ashley, following the two through the bar.

“You need a drink, you’re too stiff.” Ash says as the three of you sit at the bar.

“I’m always this stiff.” You reply, sitting on your stool. “Well, let’s fix that.” Steff giggles before ordering three drinks.

You chat and your anxious feelings subside, as soon as you get to thinking that bar scene really isn’t that bad, you hit a curve.

“God, they’re all so gorgeous.” Ash practically moans and you follow her line of sight to the group of uniforms behind you. They’re all playing pool and talking, all clad in tan and name badges.

“I like…that one- no! Him, yes, the tall one.” Steff bites her straw, motioning to a dirty blond with broad shoulders and great biceps.

Ash hums in agreement. “I like him too.”

“Well it’s my birthday so pick again.”

They have the argument for another minute or so, then as you finally dissociate from them, they’re telling you they’re going to go say hi.

“What? No just stay here…please?” You beg, not wanting to be left alone.

“We’ll be right back, I swear.” Steff says, kissing your cheek. “Have another drink and you’ll be fine.”

You groan and rub her lipstick off your face, then turn to the woman behind the bar. “I’ll have another Long Island, put it on the party girl’s tab.”

She smiles. “Coming right up.”

You blow out a puff of air, then look around. You must look awkward, sitting by yourself, not chatting like everyone else. When your drink comes, you look sip on your straw and look over your shoulder to see if your friends have gotten any farther with the guys they’re talking to. You smile at the way Steff is feeling her guy up, as you go to glance away, something catches your eye.

Someone.

He’s sitting on a stool, not fully engaged with the rest of the squad. As your eyes catch his stare, he looks away for a moment, then looks back.

A genuine smile he gives you, and then it’s your turn to slightly smile and look away.

Bob’s eyes keep shifting to your seated position across from him, and by the third time of his drifting off, Phoenix is onto his game.

“Are you gonna sit here like an idiot all night or are you going to talk to her?” She asks.

“What? I don’t know what-”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been staring at her like a puppy for twenty minutes. Go talk to her.”

The thought of approaching you seemed like a death wish. You were gorgeous, and any other previous times he’s approached a gorgeous girl, it ended with some sort of question about what Hangman was up to.

“No, she looks busy.” He says, looking back to the sunflower seeds in his cup.

“Busy doing what? Stirring the ice in her drink? That girl is bored out of her mind, Bob, go put her out of her misery.” She has a demanding tone that makes him stand, still unsure.

“What’s he doing?” Fanboy asks, noticing the way Bob slowly inches forward. “He’s gonna go talk to the girl he’s been ogling for too long.” Phoenix says.

“You go Bob!” Payback encourages, really just joking.

“Get me a beer while you’re at it!” Fanboy calls.

“Me too!” Phoenix and Payback add.

He walks with hesitation instead of determination, the entire time he thinks it’s a ridiculous idea.

He stops at the spot beside you. “Penny, can I get three beers?”

By his sudden presence, you startle, slightly jumping in your seat.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare yuh.” He apologizes. You’re more beautiful up close, timid as you tell him it was okay.

“Why’re you sitting alone? If you don’t mind me asking?” He asks and you bite your lower lip, fighting a smile. “My friends are busy groping your friends over there.” You joke.

“Makes sense. You’re not a fan of their antics?”

You shake your head, nose scrunching. Bob takes in a small breath. “Well, I think it’s a real shame that you’re sitting alone. Why don’t you go back to your friends?”

You like his accent, it feels southern but you aren’t sure.

“Really, I’m fine. I’m not exactly a fan of the attention being on me.” You admit.

As Penny places three beer bottles in front of him, he grabs them up. “I think you should join me.” He rushes out, his tone just as surprised as you are.

“Join you?” You ask, looking to the group. Two guys are shoving each other back and forth, seeing who will fall over first. You’re not satisfied with the idea of involving yourself with that. “I think I’ll just wait for my friends to come back.”

He takes a seat beside you. “Can I join you then?”

No guy has ever been so persistent with you before, you’re not sure what to do. You look at his name tag.

“Okay, Floyd, you can stay but I’m kind of boring.”

He shakes his head. “I find that hard to believe and uh, you can call me Bob, everyone else does.”

Having him up close, you recognize how handsome he really is. Not the obnoxiously attractive that the rest of his crew is, he’s more reserved. You like that. His glasses are quirky and different, making him look all the better.

“I’d hate to keep you from your friends, Bobby.”

No one’s ever called him Bobby before, the way it sounds coming off your lips is addicting.

“Trust me, you’re doing me a favor.” He jokes. “You got a name?”

You look at your shoes and tell him. When he tries it out, you blush.

“I like that name.” He compliments.

“I think it’s kind of boring:”

“It’s not boring.”

You like the way he’s being so kind, most guys would have tried a pick up line by now, but Bob sits with utter curiosity in his eyes.

“So, you from here?” You ask, sucking on your straw.

“No, I’ve lived in Lemoore for a while but I’m stationed here until further notice. I grew up in Kentucky actually, then I joined the Navy and haven’t really been back.” He explains, watching the way you rest an elbow in the bar, then lean your head on your hand. “What about you? Are you from here?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m from up North actually. But I went to school down here and fell in love with it so here I am.”

The two of you are quickly immersed in conversation about childhood and travel and Bob watches you come out of your shell.

“You don’t want anything?” You asked, motioning to the bar.

“I don’t drink.” He explains, though he’s distracted by Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin who suddenly is crowding your space.

“Excuse me, is this guy bothering you?” He asks, joking around with Bob.

“Don’t you have a blonde to attend to, Bagman?” Bob questions, making the man drop his smile.

“I’m getting her a drink, her friend too.” He says before ordering two vodka sodas. He looks back at you. “Your party girlfriends are wanting you to join them.”

As you open your mouth to respond, a shout comes from the group. “Bob! What happened to the beers?”

Bob groans, then stands to gather the beers that have been sitting for twenty minutes. “I should get back to it.” He tells you with a smile, walking away.

You look around, confused. Maybe you put him off, maybe you gave the wrong signals. You grab your drink, finishing it quickly, and before you can second guess yourself, you follow after him.

As your presence is recognized, the crew halts in conversation.

This was a bad idea. You could turn back, it wasn’t too late.

As you go to do just that, Bob speaks. “Hi again.”

He’s motioning to the stool he was going to sit on, offering it to you instead.

You slowly sit, deciding on being brave.

You’re introduced to the rest of the group, and as you remember why you didn’t want to be around the guys your friends wanted to, Bob is there, talking to you so the others couldn’t. There’s plenty of jokes made that you force yourself to laugh at, just so you wouldn’t seem awkward, but the tale tell sign of you constantly checking the little leather watch on your wrist showed you were ready for some peace and quiet.

“You wanna go for a walk?” Bob’s voice is low next to your ear, it makes a shiver run through you.

As you look up, his face is surprisingly close to you. You slowly nod. “Okay.”

In the moment that everyone else is distracted by the two girls who adore the attention, the two of you head for the door. You don’t pull away as Bob clutches your hand, keeping you close as he leads you past people.

The music is immediately quieted as you make it to the fresh air, the gentle sound of the waves coming in is relaxing.

“I don’t love the crowds either.” He says as you make your way across the sidewalk. You’re busy looking out to the sand and waves. “Ash and Steff are really more the fun ones, they can have a good time with a group of people watching…I cannot.”

He likes the sound of your laugh, the way the white moonlight is hitting your features makes you seem radiant.

“I always thought the Navy would make me a more sociable person, I guess it has but I think it creeps people out, how quiet I am.” He chuckles.

Completely content with strolling beside you, he gives off an energy you feel utterly comfortable in.

“I like that you’re quiet, most Navy guys aren’t.”

He playfully squints at you. “You talk to a lot of Navy guys?”

Reevaluating your words, your cheeks flush. “No that’s not what I meant, I just meant that- they’re all a certain way- not that I would know! I have never slept with any man of uniform!”

Bob stands in surprise at your ramble, finding it humorous. As he laughs, you cover your face, embarrassed.

“Hey, I was just teasing. I swear, I was teasin’.” He grabs your wrists gently, prying your hands from you so he can look at your red face. “Come on, pretty girl, look at me.”

As soon as he says it, he feels embarrassed himself. The name just slipped out, he should’ve halted the words, he needs to apologize-

You look up at him, doe eyes and a small smile.

Your hearts pounding, your close proximity to him has you feeling hot. As the low crash of waves mixes with the ringing in your ears, you wonder what it would be like to live on the wild side, to do what people do in bars. If you were brave and stepped out of your shy personality, would he let you kiss him?

Bob’s gazing down at you, he’s trying to figure out what’s turning in your mind. One hand lets go of your wrist, it gently cups your cheek.

“I’m going to be bold.” You state with a determination that makes him nod.

“Okay.” Is all he says.

The hand he has a hold on, goes to rest on his chest. You’re surprised at the hardness of it, sure you knew he had to be physically fit to be in the line of work he’s in, but his body is so unsuspecting, it honestly makes him utterly attractive.

He watches you hyper fixate on your touch on his chest, and the warmth of you is enough to make him feel buzzed.

He doesn’t want to rush you, but every second where you don’t pursue whatever thought you have, is killing him.

You start thinking against it, you don’t want him to think you kiss strangers, it’s not who you are at all. You swallow hard, about to call the whole thing off and tell him goodnight. When you raise your head though, he’s lifting your face to his. You’re captivated, he’s embracing you so tenderly, kissing you with an unsure and unfamiliar passion.

You sigh deeply, he holds your hand to his chest, your free one slides over his shoulder. Slowly, shyly, your lips move against his, falling into a gentle rhythm.

Your heavy eyes are shut, the utter feeling of him is making an electricity flicker through you.

After a moment, he pulls away, both hands cradling your face now.

“Please tell me that’s what you were going to do.”

You nod with a fever. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was going to do.”

He kisses you quickly once more, just to get it out of his system. “What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks.

“Probably nursing Steff’s hang over, but if you call me I’ll do whatever you’re doing.”

He grins, liking the idea.

You continue your late night walk, and inside the bar, Coyote looks to the vacant stool with confusion. “Where’s Bob?”

The crew stops, then looks to the empty space.

“Stealth pilot, I’m telling you.” Hangman says. “This guy is always disappearing and popping back up again.”

[marauder-misprint]

Hi,

I like your writings very much, so I came with a story request.

I was thinking of something between the fem!reader x Sirius in the Marauders alternate universe. I leave the gaps to you of course, what I have in mind is something like this:

The reader is in the Syltherin building during Hogwarts and in the years before she graduated she was in love with Sirius and they were together a few times. but she was never liked or appreciated by the marauders because of her house and friends. Then there was a death eater. But she never went to Azkaban. She has close relations with the Malfoy family, they are like family. (the reader could be Draco's godmother etc.)

Voldemort may not return in this time period, so Sirius and Lupin are still alive and everything is fine at Hogwarts; For example, Harry stays with Sirius during the summer vacations (some good things) **But there is a new transfer to the school. The reader's son arrives late at school and enters the Syltherine (he comes from Beauxbatons or Durmstang because his mother, the reader, has business in another country. Obviously the detail here is not very important :D)

I've given a lot of background details, but what I really want to read from you is that after the reader's son arrives at Hogwarts, there will be a parent-teacher meeting or a ball or whatever you can think of that will bring all the parents back to school. No one knows who the father of the reader's son is (except the Malfoys), but Sirius and Lupin suspect Rosier or Crouch, but the boy's jet-black hair and slanted eyes tell a different story. - I think Remus would be the first one who would have something in his head when he saw the boy for the first time. I would also like to see the reader x Sirius encounter who hid this forbidden relationship child for years.

I wrote too long but I think we needed a background story, I would be happy if you write it. I'm excited to read it as soon as possible.

Much much love.

Hi! Thank you so much for this request! I hope I did it justice. ❤︎ I really really like this concept and enjoyed writing it

'He looks like his father'

part two

Sirius Black x fem!Slytherin!reader

3.6k words

cw: mention of war, y/n y/l/n, angst if you squint?

Your son often asked about his father. You understood his curiosity about the man he never met and whose identity few knew. When he asked about his father’s name, you told him it was irrelevant as his father was dead; you actually had no idea about Sirius’ status, but the lie was the easiest thing. As for your son’s other questions, you kept things vague. There were some things that were just so definitive of him. 

After telling him a story about Sirius and the better parts of him, you would let your thoughts linger on your past. 

Your parents were friendly with select pure blood families, including the Blacks. At parties, you’d be put in a room with the other children. Narcissa and Andromeda Black took a liking to you. Those parties were your first interactions with Sirius, although he didn’t give you much attention then. As you got older, you were more friendly, but you still stayed mostly with the girls. 

A lot of that friendliness vanished the moment you were sorted into Slytherin and Sirius into Gryffindor. You knew there had to be some residual amicability between you as you fell victim to the Marauders’ pranks far less than other Slytherins. By third year, you and Sirius were consistently getting into loud arguments in the corridors and the occasional duel. And then something changed in fifth year. There was a heated debate and harsh words were exchanged, yet somehow you ended up in a broom closet with Sirius. 

You had thought the rest would be history. But that wasn’t how life worked out. It was an on-and-off relationship filled with petty breakups and crawling back with half-assed apologies. You knew his friends had more influence over your relationship than you would’ve liked, but they were Sirius’ chosen family and you were a reminder of his birth family. His friends were never particularly nice to you. They judged you for your pride and hated you for your friends. They acted like you personally chose your house and family name. 

Right out of Hogwarts, you became a Death Eater at the urging of your parents and friends. You followed along with the rules and fought when requested. But as soon as you found out you were pregnant, you ran. In a foreign country, you burned your arm until the dark mark was indiscernible, although the magic within it still burned. You covered the burn with new tattoos. 

You lived in various countries throughout Europe with your son, naming him Perseus after the constellation. It was the only Black tradition you carried on. 

Your work as a curse breaker required you to visit England. You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but you reached out to Narcissa. She was ecstatic to hear from you and immediately invited you to the Malfoy Manor. You accepted on the condition that your son also be welcome. She was delighted to find out that you had a son, telling you she had one as well. 

“Dear, it’s so lovely to see you!” Narcissa exclaimed as you arrived at Malfoy Manor with Percy holding your hand. “This is Draco.”

Her son was standing at her leg, clutching her robes with a death grip.

“Hello, Draco,” you said, addressing the small white-blonde child. “This is Percy. I think you two will be friends.”

Your dark haired son extended a hand to Draco, who looked up at his mother for assurance. Narcissa nodded. Then Draco let go of her and took Percy’s hand. Then they were running off somewhere to play. 

“Would you like some tea?” Narcissa offered.

“That would be lovely,” you answered, following her through her home.

Over tea, you caught up on everything that had happened since you disappeared, including the downfall of Voldemort, the death of the Potters and the Malfoys’ avoidance of Azkaban.

“Enough of that heavy stuff. I must know. Is there a man in your life?” Narcissa asked, slowly stirring her tea. 

You laughed. “No, Cissa. I travel too much for work.”

“Then, pray tell, who is little Percy’s father?”

You gave her a pointed look. “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone. Percy doesn’t know and thinks that he is dead.”

Narcissa leaned over the table, more intrigued than ever. 

“I won’t even tell Lucius. Who?”

“Your cousin. Sirius.”

She gasped. “No!” 

“Please, you must’ve thought it as soon as you saw him,” you teased. Percy shared many of his father’s looks, including his signature dark curls. 

“That means that Draco and Percy are practically cousins! Oh, you must visit more often, dear. You’re literally family!”

You smiled. She had taken the news better than you expected and this first visit was the beginning of a tradition. Although your work kept you traveling around Europe, you would visit Malfoy Manor for Christmas and periodically throughout the summer. Because your work kept you around eastern Europe, you enrolled Percy in Durmstrang when he came of age. You were sad to cut his dark curls to fit the uniform, but you knew he needed an education and the firm hand that Durmstrang was known for.  

Then opportunity presented itself: a job offer that would settle you in England for a few years. You discussed it with Percy. It would mean transferring to Hogwarts and leaving all of his friends. 

“But I’d get to go to school with Draco?” he asked excitedly.

You nodded and it was quickly decided. He would transfer. You wrote to Albus Dumbledore to make it all official. You started telling Percy more stories about your time at Hogwarts, how you were in Slytherin, just like Draco is and as Lucius and Narcissa were, and how his father was in Gryffindor. You told him about Hogsmeade and the Forbidden Forest. 

“Our rule stays the same, Percy. If you’re going to break school rules, don’t get caught.”

Percy laughed and ran a hand through his chin-length hair. 

“Can I grow my hair out? What’s their uniform?” he asked, sounding hopeful at the potential of keeping his curls. 

“Grow it as long as you’d like. But for the love of Merlin, wash it and take care of it. I won’t be having you look like a ghoul.”

---

After James and Lily died and Sirius arrived at their house, he found Harry and didn’t let go. He took the boy and went to Remus; it was all he could think to do. As beyond furious at Peter and ruined as he was, saving his godson was his priority. He and Remus agreed to raise Harry together. The boy with the lightning shaped scar grew up knowing love, knowing of his parents’ story and knowing of the magical world. 

“Did you read Harry’s letter?” Remus asked, walking into the kitchen.

He had read it when it arrived earlier that morning and left it on the table for Sirius. It was the first one after sending Harry off to Hogwarts that fall.

“What’d he say?” Sirius replied, not looking up from the Daily Prophet he was reading. 

“There’s a transfer student from Durmstrang. Apparently he’s close to the Malfoys.”

Sirius hummed. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in a transfer student. They were pretty rare among the wizarding schools. The student being close to the Malfoys, although a point of interest, wasn’t something he cared for. 

But after a minute, he asked, “Well, what’s the boy’s name?”

He knew that Remus wouldn’t have brought up the boy unless there was something more intriguing about him.

“Percy… Y/L/N.”

Sirius slowly set down the paper and looked at Remus with a stony expression.

“Oh. She has a kid then.” He cleared his throat. “Makes sense that he’s close with the Malfoys then. Death Eaters, the bunch of ‘em.” 

“Who do you suppose is the father?” Remus mused. He knew he should tread lightly on the topic, but he was genuinely curious about what Sirius thought of his Hogwarts fling having a kid.

“Dunno. Junior?” Sirius offered without much conviction.

“I was thinking maybe Rosier… Suppose they both have that idiot recklessness that she likes.”

Sirius frowned at Remus, knowing that dig was aimed at him as well. He was one who returned to you time and time again, despite what his friends convinced him was his better judgment. 

“When was the last time you saw her?” Remus asked as he put a kettle on the stovetop. 

Sirius froze for a moment. There had been a night a year after they graduated when they ran into each other at a bar. The combination of residual feelings, alcohol and stress of war brought them together for the night. Sirius hadn’t told anyone about it and planned on taking it to the grave.

“Not since graduation. Now that you mention it, I think she was getting cozy with Rosier back then,” Sirius said, picking his paper back up.

“Would be a shame if it was him though.”

“Why’s that, Moony?” There was an edge to his voice.

“Moody took care of him pretty quick, didn’t he? Probably didn’t even know he was going to be a dad. And the boy’s grown up without a father.”

Sirius scoffed. “Better no father than him.”

---

Sirius and Remus were usual supporters of the Gryffindor quidditch team, especially since Harry was seeker. They attended every match Gryffindor played, apparating into Hogsmeade and walking to the pitch. The Malfoys also regularly attended games to support Draco. When Narcissa insisted that you come to a match with them, she didn’t consider that Sirius might be there. 

You were greatly enjoying yourself. Quidditch was always entertaining and it was nice to see some of your old teachers. You would’ve been lying if being back at school didn’t raise various feelings, but it wasn’t something you were going to deal with right away. After Slytherin’s win, you followed the Malfoys down to the ground to greet Draco. You didn’t even notice when you passed Sirius and Remus, who were waiting for Harry to find them. 

“Huh… looks like she’s here,” Remus muttered, nudging Sirius and jutting his chin in the direction you were walking. 

Sirius didn’t say anything. He hadn’t expected to see you. He was also taken aback by how good you looked; he was rendered speechless. 

Then a boy pushed between the men.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, turning to give them a brief smile. Then he started to run again. “Oi! Mum!” he called. 

As Sirius watched you pull the boy decked in Slytherin gear into a hug, Remus had to take a double take. The dark curls, the striking grey eyes, the smile. There was one thing on Remus’ mind: that was not Evan Rosier’s son.

“Percy!” you exclaimed. “Oh, your hair!”

“Looks good, don’t it?”

You gave Narcissa an amused look before saying, “Just like your father’s.” 

“Aunt Cissa, Uncle Lucius! Hey!” Percy said, breaking out of your hug. “Wasn’t Draco brilliant?”

As Percy talked with the Malfoys, you spotted Remus and Sirius over his head. Your breath hitched at the sight. With them was James Potter? Or that’s what you thought. Except this James was still 15 and very much not dead. You looked away from them, trying to listen to the conversation happening around you. Your mind, however, drifted to Sirius and the fact that he was here. It was the closest Percy had been to his father ever. And this was not the moment for Percy to find out his dad was, in fact, not dead. 

“Butterbeers in Hogsmeade?” Narcissa offered the group, which was slowly growing as more of the Slytherin team and their parents gathered.

The group eagerly agreed. For some reason, you glanced back at Sirius and Remus. The James-boy had disappeared and they were both looking at you. You reached for Narcissa’s arm.

“I’ll meet you there. I have to talk to some people first.”

She followed your gaze to Remus and Sirius. She nodded and ushered the group ahead, including Percy. You walked toward the former Gryffindors. 

“Didn’t expect to see you two here,” you said dryly.  

“My godson invited us,” Sirius said firmly. Now that you were standing in front of him, he had conflicting feelings.

“Your godson?”

“James and Lily’s son. Harry,” Remus explained. 

He assumed you knew of the Potters’ passing. Everyone did. It was what ended the war.

You nodded. “James 2.0 from the looks of it.”

Sirius laughed, “Yeah, he gets that a lot.” He paused, giving you a once over. “So, you’re here.”

“Yeah,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Cissa invited me to watch Draco-” Sirius made a face. “-and I thought it would be good to see my son.”

“Your son? You have a kid?” Remus asked, pretending as if he and Sirius hadn’t known about this through Harry’s letters.

“Is that so hard to believe, Lupin? Potters’ had a kid. Why can’t I?” you asked defensively. 

“So, erm, your husband stay home then?” Sirius asked, not letting Remus respond. 

“Don’t have one.”

“Boyfriend?” Sirius furrowed his brows. 

“No.”

“No father-figure in your son’s life then?” Remus asked with his arms crossed. 

“He went to Durmstrang. Got plenty of guidance there. He’s fine. Plus, there’s… Lucius. If he even counts,” you said with a sigh. “How have you two been? Raising Harry as exhausting as Percy’s been?”

“Percy?” Sirius repeated. 

“Merlin, Black, my son. Perseus.”

“Like the myth?”

“Like the constellation.”

That was an interesting tidbit of information, Remus thought.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who’s his father then? I don’t recall you having a boyfriend when we graduated,” Remus inquired, feigning his curiosity. At this point, he was 90% sure that he was standing with both parents right now. 

He got the confirmation he needed as your face immediately dropped into something cold.

“That’s a rather personal question, Lupin.”

“Well?” Sirius followed up. “Who is it?” 

You didn’t answer. You opted to keep the cold expression on your face until one of them changed the topic. Remus wasn’t going to drop it though. 

“He looks like his father, doesn’t he? Bit uncanny. Just like how Harry looks like James.”

You clenched your jaw, narrowing your eyes at Remus. Seeing your son once, Remus picked up what Lucius and countless others missed. 

“Who does he look like?” Sirius asked Remus, making Remus laugh. 

Of course Sirius didn’t see himself in Percy. You never can see how someone looks like you, but to Remus, they were incredibly similar. It didn’t help that when Percy had ran past them, Sirius had been paying more attention to you than your child. 

“You,” you breathed. You didn’t want Remus to be the one who told Sirius.

Sirius coughed, turning back to you.

“Excuse me?” he croaked.

“Percy looks like you,” you clarified as you looked him in the eyes.

“He looks like his father?” Sirius whispered to himself as he slowly pieced it all together. “I have a son?”

You nodded, returning your expression to its previous coldness.

“Which I don’t understand. Pads, you told you two haven’t seen each other since graduation and if he’s Harry’s age…” Remus said.

“Pads lied to you, Lupin,” you chuckled. 

“Just like how you lied to me?” Sirius asked you, taking a step forward.

“I didn’t lie. I just never told you.” 

“Same thing!” he exclaimed.

“I’m… going to find Harry… or something. I’ll find you later, Sirius,” Remus said before walking away. This was obviously a conversation you two needed to have without an audience. 

“You never told me you were pregnant!” Sirius continued. “In the past sixteen years, not a single letter about this?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “What would you have done if I had? It was one night of a rekindled school flame that didn’t even see the sun rise. It wasn’t like I was expecting a relationship from you.”

“You didn’t give me a chance!”

“Would you have? Would you have dropped everything for me and him?”

He didn’t answer right away and it drew a cold laugh from your lips.

“Exactly, Sirius. Remember who we were sixteen years ago. Remember what was going on. I knew you wouldn’t come so I didn’t call. And, trust me, I’m not asking you now. I’m still not calling. We are doing just fine without you.”

“What is ‘just fine’? Socializing with the Malfoys?” he spat.

“They’re family.”

“Through me. They are family, through me.”

“I’ve always been close with Cissa. She’s just married now.”

“Yeah, sure.”

There’s a beat of silence. You crossed your arms across your chest as you looked briefly in the direction of Hogsmeade. 

“Well, I told them I’d meet ‘em in the village so…” you said, preparing yourself for the walk.

“Can I meet him?” Sirius asked softly. 

You didn’t answer. Every part of you was screaming to say no, to reiterate that he wasn’t to be a father to your Percy.

“I want to meet my son.”

“Sirius,” you warned.

He took another step toward you and reached for your hand. He had a soft look in his eyes. 

“Please, if he’s really my son, I want to meet him. You hid him from me for sixteen years and probably would’ve for more if Remus hadn’t called you out.”

“What would I even introduce you as?” You couldn’t believe that you were even considering this. Too bad you still have that damn soft spot for Sirius.

“His father?”

You laughed. “Fuck no. Not only has he never heard your name, I told him his dad is dead. To introduce you as his not-dead dad in the middle of the school year? No. Plus, there’s no reason to introduce you now for you to never interact with him again.”

“Why would I never interact with him again? He’s my son.”

“No, he’s my son. You’re basically a sperm donor.”

“What if I want to be in his life?”

You pulled your hand out of his and stepped away from him.

“That’s not an option, Sirius.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because we are fine without you. We have our life and it’s good. I don’t need you coming and ruining it. You’ll just disappear when someone reminds you how vile I actually am.”

“I won’t disappear,” he tried to convince you, taking a step forward every time you took a step back. “Now that I know I have a son, I can’t walk away from this. I won’t.”

You scoff at him. “But you could walk away from me time and time again when we were here? You could walk away from me after a quick reunion shag? You have more loyalty to a boy you haven’t even properly met.”

“I was younger then. Stupid. Give me a chance to stay in your life, his life. I promise I won’t walk away this time.”

He looked at you with pleading eyes; how you love those grey eyes and cherished that Percy had inherited them. 

“Introduce me as an old school friend. Please.”

You sighed. You couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine.”

You turned and started walking. Sirius quickly fell in step with you. You walked in silence and you felt like you were sixteen again on a date with Sirius. Except you weren’t kids anymore. You were adults and you had a kid together. A kid you didn’t tell him about.

“You, erm, you look good,” Sirius said after a while.

Your face flushed as it would have years ago. Some things never changed. 

“Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”

He smiled and nudged your shoulder with his. Then he let curiosity get the best of him.

“So, I, ah, obviously, I know you took the mark. What happened with all that?”

You tensed. It wasn’t your favorite subject to talk about, but you knew why Sirius was asking it. If he was serious about being in your and Percy’s lives, he needed to know what he was walking into. You pulled up your left sleeve to reveal the various tattoos that covered the burned skin. 

“I took care of it. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I was out. I wasn’t going to put my kid in the way of a war so I went east. Made a name for myself in the curse breaker industry.”

Sirius nodded. “I fought. Looked for you behind every mask, hoping I would never find you. I didn’t want to see you dead or going to Azkaban.”

“So, erm, what do you do now? Got a job?”

“Raise Harry and help Remus with whatever project he’s working on. Got that Black fortune to fund everything else.”

“Course you do,” you said. 

Silence fell over you as you continued down the path. You didn’t know what else to say to Sirius at the moment. You didn’t know if you should be telling him all about Percy and everything you’ve told the boy about him. You decided to see how things played out between the boys before rehashing your entire life to Sirius. Leaves rustled in the wind as the path became more inclined, a signal you were almost at Hogsmeade.

“Where does… where does this leave us?” Sirius asked as you reached the entrance to the village.

“What do you mean?”

“Us. You and me.”

“Us…”

“I meant when I said I want to be in your life, in Percy’s. So, I was thinking I’d like to give us another chance. Maybe we’ll get it right this time.” 

You pressed your lips together as you studied Sirius’ face. His offer sounded genuine. 

“We’ll see how this goes,” you answer, gesturing to the Three Broomsticks. “Meet your son. Play nice with the Malfoys. And we can talk about it later.”

[butterbabyflapjack]

✧˖° Brian Moser x serial killer fem!reader

✧˖° summary:

The Ice Truck Killer’s back in town, and somehow he's stuck babysitting you; Miami's newest would-be killer.

Helping you out wasn't at all his original intention–he'd rather see you dead, you know far too much–but he supposes he could spare an evening to undomesticate that hungry beast inside you. Show you how to really live your life.

In which Brian helps you kill someone who utterly deserves it, and the kill room turns into a horny sex-fueled bloodbath.

✧˖° wordcount (chapter 1): 5k

✧˖° chapters: one, two, three, four, five

✧˖° ao3

✧˖° warnings: serial killer fem!reader, reader insert, explicit sexual content, rough sex, passionate sex, fucking in a kill room, dark romance, dark comedy, canon typical depictions of blood and gore, enthusiastic consent, mutual pining, impact play, playing with your food, serial killers in love, banter, dirty talk, voice kink, trauma bonding, babysitting a serial killer, implied sexual abuse of a child (you're killing this mf don’t worry), torture (you’re torturing this mf don’t worry), Brian is his own warning, enemies to lovers, biting, daddy issues?, blood play, a bit of angst a dash of bloodlust & a heavy splash of spice, Brian loves to fluster you and he won't shut the hell up going about it, Brian survives season 1 in this house

✧˖° author's note:

This is ridiculous, horny, bloody, silly and dark (in essence, a very dark romantic comedy), so please heed the tags!

Starts after season 1, but with Brian escaping. Sorry if there’s any rough spots, I kinda rushed editing this.

ch.1 is from Brian’s POV, and the rest of the story is from yours. And there aren't nearly enough problematic female characters in the world so I'm making you one 😃

✧˖° chapter 1

Hello again, Miami. 

Didn’t think I’d see you again this soon.

What’s it been? Eight months? Since I was your most highly wanted criminal?

Guess I just couldn’t stay away.

Time flies when you’re laying low.

Guess I just missed you.

But really, my reason for coming back to dear old Miami–my home, both my real and spiritual birthplace–has a name, a life, and a face. Your name, if you’re really so curious. Your life. Your face. And I intend to leave what remains of all three of those things behind to the hungry bellies of gators before once more absconding stage left. 

But why, you might ask? Why do I want to kill you? Horrified, scandalized, even. For what reason had you to die by my skillful hand? And the answer to that is simple: death doesn’t need a reason. Death simply is, and I simply enjoy it. 

Though…

Regardless of that irrefutable fact…

I’ll admit. 

This particular death–your death–has a slightly more personal reason. And that reason, or at least its causation, was currently chit-chatting with me on the phone.

“Your plane lands at eight?” Dexter asked, and I didn’t waste time with a nod when he wouldn’t see it. Simply staring out across the coast of Costa Rica, the sunset reflected within the dark shadow of my gaze.

Costa Rica… and I’d really wanted to retire somewhere cold.

Not that this was retirement.

It was more of an… unplanned, involuntary vacation. Just until the heat from the feds cooled down.

Then again, I wasn’t waiting for the temp to drop before planning this little excursion back to Miami. But you’d sorta forced my hand in that regard, now hadn’t you?

“Hope you don’t mind if I crash on the couch,” I said, good-natured, and I knew he wouldn’t object. My brother couldn’t feel much–much more than myself–but I sensed a sort of guilt in him for how he’d previously driven me off those eight months ago. Choosing a fake sibling over a real one, one who actually knew who he was… I’d say the guilt had good cause.

I could hear him at his quaint living room/office combo’s computer, typing away at something. Perpetually Distracted Dexter.

“Yeah–yeah, that’d be great,” he said. 

I exhaled a little sigh whilst listening to the soft waves roll in beside me. “Why do I feel there’s a but coming?”

“No buts,” said Dexter. “I just, uh…” He seemed distracted, but not by whatever he typed. “I’ll just have a friend over tomorrow. She’ll probably be here when you arrive.”

Ah.

The friend.

The one I’d been silently wishing Dex would just kill himself. Grow suddenly bored of you.

Wishful thinking.

He seemed quite fond. 

He wouldn’t shut up about you. Always and forever droning on.

It wasn’t romantic, this interest, or so I’d come to suspect over all these past droning months. I didn’t exactly ask about that, though, half because I really didn’t care and half because of how much the subject of you annoyed me, raised over and over again and ugh, just give it a rest already. 

Dex shouldn’t have ‘friends’. The mere concept a fairytale, a mask to people like us. It should be just he and I, two hunters against the world, hunting whomever we like.

“Ah,” I voiced aloud, with the sugar-flaked pleasantry of someone who wasn’t at all picturing severing your aorta with an icepick. “Your little friend will be there to greet me. How nice.”

Dexter must have misread the edge of sarcasm as some sort of concern. “She already knows you’re coming. Don’t worry, she can be trusted.”

Just more proof that my do-good, misguided brother is far too trusting.

“Well,” I said, as though accepting this point as fact. You really can be trusted with my and my brother's secrets–such relief! “I look forward to finally meeting her.” And carving and slicing and dicing her.

I must have forgotten to include that last part out loud, and thus Dexter had no objection–even sounding strangely relieved by my show of good faith in at long last having this introduction.

“See you tomorrow night,” he said, and my lips formed a little smile–instinctual, without any warmth.

“See you then,” I said, then hung up.

And now; here I am. Back in the ever-enchanting sunshine state. My former playground of frozen, meticulously broken toys, and it feels much more like home to be back than I even expected, with just the small matter of ridding you from these sentimental, familial walls.

Walking the concrete pathway to Dex’s Palm Terrace place was nearly surreal, assaulting the walls of my person with waves of distant memories. I’d broken into his beachfront apartment so many times before. Snooping around, getting to know him. Leaving gifts tied up with little red bows. I was basically murderous Saint Claus.

I had only one bag, having traveled here light–a black leather crossbody, which I thumbed the broad strap of whilst knocking with mild knuckles against the door.

Silence. Then, footsteps. Then–

Dexter throws open the door, a smile formed ear to ear like a big, goofy animal. 

“Brian,” he says, and somehow it melts me. Chips slightly away at all that frigid, cold frost round my cruel, vacant heart. And his eyes dip over the state of me. The longer hair, dark curls well past my ears, now; just long enough to tuck back but not long enough to stay there. The dark scruff which coats my angled jawline in the absence of shaving for so long.

“Dig the beard,” Dexter says. “Quite the disguise. Bet the ladies love it.”

I smile at the compliment, though if he'd hated the look I'd feel much the same. “One does what one has to to effectively blend,” I return. And it’s hard not to feel somewhat warm, somewhat seen, understood, by my brother before me. The only person in this world who accepts who I am.

Well, not wholly.

Thanks for nothing, Debra.

Still. Since the death of our mother, Dex is the only place I’ve ever belonged, and seeing him now I’m abruptly struck with just how long it’s been.

I don’t wait for him to welcome me in–he’s probably too cordially stunted to properly welcome me, anyway. I just step right up and throw both my arms around him, my baby brother, my other half; cuffing him firmly on the back as I breathe him in.

“It’s been too long,” I say, holding him there for a moment, before pulling back.

Dexter’s expression is torn into a million indecipherable things, but amongst them is his affection for me. The brother who’ll always see him for who he really is. Who truly fathoms that insatiable beast inside him.

The bliss of our reunion’s forced to end, however, because this house has a rat problem. And as I hear a small, feminine throat being cleared from the fluorescent-lit depths behind my brother, my curiosity gets the better of me.

Time to finally put a face to the name I’ve been loathing for weeks.

And there you are. Standing before a metal-limbed armchair nuzzled inside the living room, like you’d sat there then stiffly stood up; uprooted at the sound of my knocking. Frozen, now; lingering. Like you’re caught in a trap you don’t know your way out of. Hands fidgeting as they twist at the hem of your shirt. 

It’s like you know you don’t belong here–that this moment is Dexter’s and mine–and for the cleverness of that, at least, I must inwardly applaud you. Though that’s decidedly where all my praise ends.

This is one of those social situations I’ve learned so well to navigate through life in the foster system, masking my aberrance. Awkwardness. Other people’s–not mine. And though I could so effortlessly put you at ease as you stand there fidgeting, I find it more entertaining to draw that part out. For a while, at least.

I must admit, I hadn’t pictured you at all in my head. What you’d look like. Not as anything more than an aggravating, compromising blip I’d soon snuff out the threat of. But if I had pictured you, I wouldn’t have imagined you looking, so…

…Well.

You’re not…

Unnatractive. 

I feel one dark brow slowly raising.

And you’re only a friend…?

Whatever must poor Rita think? Seeing the two of you together?

Dexter. You dog.

My eyes trace your expression as you awkwardly hover there in the length of my speculative pause. Myself perfectly content to allow you to hang there in a noose of discomfort all night, and then some. Though eventually I know one of us will have to say something.

This is our fated and much anticipated formal introduction, after all.

So at what feels like long last, I throw you the lifeline that is my smarmiest smile. Knowing full well you won’t know it’s not real. No one but Dex ever does.

“And you must be the friend I’ve heard so much about,” I greet you pleasantly, my deep voice threaded with warmth. Though, peculiarly, that unsure tension in you remains stubbornly in place. Seems if anything only to grow, despite my intent to disarm it. 

Huh.

Oh well–it doesn’t deter me. Killing you will be so much easier if you don’t see it coming, so I’m keen on you liking me, letting your guard down. Thus, I graciously continue:

“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to finally having you right in front of me.”

Maybe a bit of truth will lube you up. And I watch as your lower lip’s sucked in between your teeth for just a moment whilst you eye me; the motion drawing my studious gaze like a shark’s to blood. 

“And why is that?” you ask, which admittedly I wasn’t expecting. Such a nervous mouse, yet you’d put me on the spot.

I can’t place your nerves. I’m perfectly charming. And yes, you’re aware I’m the notorious Ice Truck Killer, but I’m not sure why that would be alarming. Not with the company you keep; namely, my murderous brother. So it must be something else.

And I so hate not knowing things.

“So I can be introduced to you in person, of course,” I say, like it’s obvious, and it should be. Striding in past Dexter as he steps aside to allow me in, shutting and latching the door behind us all; a roomful of killers, or so I’ve been told.

Our eyes never stray in my steady approach; not yours, not mine. My height soon towering over yours, which isn’t unusual for me when meeting new people, nor when standing near almost anyone. Offering my hand and a smile I’ve been told is quite dashing. “Dex has had such wonderful things to say about you.” And I’m sure he has, I just couldn’t be bothered to remember any of them.

My smile could melt steel as if it was butter.

“I’m Brian.”

I won’t lie, I expected you to crumble. Most women love this move. The confidence, the approachable self-assurance. But you eye my outstretched hand as though I might pull you into the fires of hell with me were you to take it, before craning your neck to meet my gaze once more.

“Charmed,” is all you say; unmoving.

Something about that irks a small ripple up my nape, but I just allow my hand to drop graciously back to my side. All practiced, svelte charm still in place.

“So,” I say, by all appearance unconcerned by the lack of civility in my brother’s ill choice of friends. “It almost feels like I already know you, what with the way Dexter’s gone on and on.”

Your gaze steals over to Dexter, hovering there in the distance behind us, before you smile up at me again in a way which feels forced. And I suppose you’re not the talkative sort, though why you keep glancing at Dexter as if waiting for something from him, as if he’ll swoop in and save you, I’m uncertain about.

In due time I’ll figure it out.

“But there’s still one thing I’m curious about,” I say, turning to make myself comfortable. It has been a long trip to get here, after all. 

I plop down like a wolf amongst sheep atop Dexter’s hideous couch, legs spread like I own the damn food chain. One arm draped out along the length of its backrest as I eye you somewhat expectantly, still rigid in how you stand. Imagining what you might look like strung upside down by your ankles with a lengthy strap of duct tape kissing those soft lips, holding them shut for me. 

The shadows beneath my eyes pinch.

It’s a lovely image.

Maybe you’ll see for yourself.

“And what’s that?” Dexter asks–bravo, Dexter–at least one of you’s courteous enough to ask. And I tilt my darkly curled head at him.

“How exactly did the two of you get to know one another?” I ask. Watching him. Eying you. Hoping my focus might rattle you–just a little. “I’m sure it’s an interesting tale.”

“I’ve already told you,” Dexter says, and he probably has, at least in his unabbreviated sense. “We work together at the precinct.” He dons his playful tone I often find so silly but right now I find I detest. “The lab geek and the cop~”

“Right. But that’s not what I mean,” I slice into his futile comedy routine, “What I mean, is: how did our friend here come to know you’re one of Miami’s most heinous, uncaught serial killers?”  

The other, of course, being myself; excepting the whole uncaught thing.

Dex is lucky I’m so forgiving.

I put it forth bluntly, with little room for either one of you to wiggle out of answering. And though my radiance of charisma remains, my intensity’s keen. ‘Cause I must admit; now that I’m here, I’m curious about you. Especially when you seem like such a rabbit in a household of jackals. Weren’t you supposed to be some like-minded killer or something? Perhaps I should have paid closer attention whenever the unwanted topic of you had come up in mine and Dexter’s conversations, instead of bitterly tuning you out. 

Strangely, Dexter doesn’t seem to know what to say, and neither do you. Like the story’s too long, too elaborate. As though there's pieces the two of you’d rather omit. 

Fascinating.

“She helped me out,” Dex says at last; monotonously shallow, like the words aren’t even his, like he's rehearsed this. “In a time of need.”

I quirk a subtly mocking brow at him from where I’m idly lounged on the couch. 

“Why do you sound like a generic thankyou card?” Why, indeed. “C’mon, baby brother–I want specifics. You can tell me.” My dusky gaze passes from him to his lovely, curious friend, hovered opposite the ugly coffee table before me. “We’re all friends here, right?”

It would seem that my smile unnerves you. Which might be annoying if it wasn’t so entertaining a thing to see.

Dexter sighs before trying a more human answer, leaning one bulky shoulder against his white, open-backed bookcase that separates his living room from the office attached. 

This whole effectively communicating thing is hard for him.

“It was sort of an accident,” he says, like that’s far more telling. The lacking details seeming to spur you to chime in. 

“It was really just me being in the wrong place at the right time,” you elaborate, with the passive front of one pretending the ice they walk on won’t at any moment begin to splinter. Folding your arms against that pensive look I toss you, which I tilt my head in silent question of. Why so nervous? I’m far from daunting, aren’t I? 

“I was called to check out an anonymous tip,” you continue, averting your gaze from me far more often than one normally does. “Some sort of suspicious activity at an abandoned storage shed near Palmetto. Myself and my parter.” 

You glance at Dex, as if he might continue the tale for you, might rescue you from this, but when he merely quirks a little smile with a similar shrug, you’re forced into proceeding.

“It was supposedly related to a case–which it wasn’t, not that that matters, but…” You let out a breath. Seeming to steady yourself, the recollection, though for all your nervous fidgeting your tone is surprisingly calm. “I walked into the storage shed, it was unlocked, and… And I saw Dexter. Sawing someone’s arm off. Someone who was strapped down to a table in a plastic fucking tutu.” 

You glance at Dex, as he detachedly watches you. 

“Someone I knew from a previous case,” you continue. “Someone who deserved whatever it was Dexter was doing, and much more than that, too. Which is exactly when I shut that fucking door and assured my partner there was nothing to see here, and we left. Left Dexter to do what he does, undisturbed.”

That’s the end of your story, and I picture the scene, all while some predatorily protective part of me insists on clarifying, “So… That’s it? You saw my brother chopping a man into pieces, and were immediately okay with it? Go Team Dexter? Just like that?”

I try very little to hide my disbelief, ‘cause I don’t buy it. In my experience with cops, and I’ve had plenty, you all tend to be such sticklers when it comes to casual bloodshed and carnage. What’s more, your uptick in nerves isn’t exactly selling me.

My lashes lower in my deliberate examination of you. “Why’d you really not turn my dear brother in?”

In lieu of answering, you once more eye Dex, and that look between you says something.

“It’s complicated,” you say at last. Like you’re waiting for Dexter to speak, but he’d rather wait on you.

The pair of you. Really. You’re like a couple of tongue-tied, helpless kittens. Must I string this conversation on for you?

“Enlighten me,” I say, with something of an edge.

Perhaps I should’ve kept the disarmingly fake smile, because if anything you thrust your guard up.

“Look, I don’t owe you a full explanation of what Dexter and I have been through, okay?”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” I viperously put forth, my pretense of pleasantry slipping. “Seeing as how you know so much about myself. And all without my express knowledge or permission.”

An impermanent issue. One I won't leave Miami without personally seeing resolved. You know far too much–you’re an issue. For Dexter’s sake and for mine, we must unfortunately bid you bon voyage.

“I’d say it’s only fair I know a little more about you,” I continue, cordiality slipped back in place. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The delicate line of your jaw tautens, eyes wavered with wariness and doubt. Refusing to spit out any more, though the longer you’re subject to my critical appraisal, the more the twine of your stubbornness unwinds.

“I… I need someone dead,” you admit at last.

Ah.

There it is.

“And, after seeing Dexter doing… what he does…” You bite your lower lip, as though struggling to recollect straying thoughts. “I need his help. I need his help to kill someone.”

I take my time mulling about your words. Piecing together the part you still aren't saying.

“So… You won’t turn Dexter in, so long as he helps you kill someone. Did I get that right?” 

You bite down harsher–immediately shake your head. “No, it’s–it’s more complicated than that!” 

But by now I’m barely listening. Turning instead to lift a wry brow at my brother, who’s watching this whole fiasco with a can-I-please-leave-yet look plastered upon his face.

“This is the friend you’ve been telling me about?” I wonder vaguely. “The cop who’s blackmailing you into helping her kill someone?”

“I’m a detective,” you cut in, like that matters, like I care, and I feel my eyes already rolling.

“Detective,” I sarcastically amend, with a scathing glance at you. “So sorry to offend, Detective Whoever-You-Are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m talking to my brother.”

When you mutter back your name under your breath, I make a show of ignoring it.

“So, what?” I instead ask my foolish, good-hearted kin. “You’re actually going to help her kill someone?” 

His lack of answer’s enough. And at his arms-folded silence, I ruminatively tut my tongue.

“Doesn’t seem like you, Dex… Not the edict-ruled brother I know.” I try not to let my tone grow too ingratiating whilst goading, “What about your beloved code?” 

Dexter exhales a stiff breath. Putting forth, “It’s more than that.”

“More?”

“Like she said, it’s complicated.”

“Has the word ‘complicated’ been redefined as ‘indescribably moronic and impossible to explain’ sometime in the last fifteen seconds?” I return, incredulously flat. Eying their strange and stilted silence with dwindling patience. “What aren’t the two of you telling me…?”

You’re biting your lip like you’re biting back words, and I watch, waiting, biding my time for those bit-back words to get the better of you–though surprisingly, it’s Dexter who breaks first. 

“It’s nothing about that, it’s…” He rubs the back of his sand-colored head, roughing his hair up with tense distraction. “Well, it is about that, in a sense. I didn’t know how to bring this up. I just… I have to leave town for the weekend,” he finally gets out. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’m headed out.”

I’m too nonplussed to hide the creeping edge of my bemusement.

That’s what he’s been having trouble saying?

He drops this like it’ll land like a bombshell on our entire reunion, before rushing at whatever my bland expression, “It’s just for a few days. I’ll be back Monday bright and early.”

To be honest, I’m mostly confused about why this seemed so hard for either one of you bumbling idiots to tell me. Or why you’re bumbling about it at all. Why should I care if he’ll be gone for forty-eight more measly hours after we've been separated for almost a year? And for many, many years before that? Does he actually expect me to mourn him till Monday?

“Big plans with the family?” I venture coolly, and Dexter’s broad shoulders bunch into a shrug, as though he’s cornered and a shrug is all that might save him.

“It’s a whole thing,” he explains. “Cody has a scouting trip, then Rita wanted to make a whole weekend out of it with the grandparents–I’ll spare you the details.”

Yes, thank you for that.

Dexter the family man. It’s so sweet it’s nauseating.

“So you’re taking your fake kids camping so you can keep playing domesticated dad to a woman and children who’d hate you if they knew who you really are?” My smile’s so feigned it hurts. “Sounds like a great time.”

My brother, the shrugger, shrugs once again. Doesn’t even try to defend my interpretive accusation. “I gotta be there.”

“Well have fun on your little adventure,” I muse; side-eying him. “Not sure why it took you this long to tell me. I’m sure I’ll find some way to busy myself in the meantime.”

You and Dexter exchange that look again. That look which betrays how you still haven’t shared whatever’s so lodged down your throats and wherever this is really going, and by this point it’s driving me toward wanting to just rip open your necks to drag whatever it is out, myself.

“Well, actually,” my brother begins, struggling once more with saying things. “I’ve already got an idea that’ll keep you busy in mind.”

I steady him in the crosshairs of my vision. Well. Now we might be getting somewhere. And I can’t deny my interest, much like my frustration, is piqued. 

“Oh?”

“A favor, really,” he adds, without elaborating, and I really am going to rip the words right out of him.

“Are you going to tell me what that favor is?” I’m finally forced to ask, before glancing exasperatedly at you. “Or perhaps I should defer to your translator?”

There you go, nervously rubbing that elbow again, though I find myself oddly mesmerized by the motion of it. I can’t say for what cause, other than I’m not blind, and you’re obviously attractive. Watching you anxiously stand there is becoming one of my favorite pastimes.

“I, um,” you mumble, so quietly I almost can’t hear you. A nervous mouse again, one my nature is stirred to chase. “Well. Dexter was going to help me with–you know… What I was saying before. We have everything planned for tomorrow, and it has to happen tomorrow.” You seem strangely adamant about this, and I don’t care enough to question the ‘why’, just as I don’t care for the ‘who’–I’ll take your word for it. “But, um, with Dexter out of town…”

Helpless, as if to say any more’s an impossible task, you glance to Dexter for support.

“Really, the two of you,” I lowly muse. Eyes glistening between the pair of you, alight with my wicked amusement. Stretching out more broadly on the throne of Dexter’s hideous couch. “You could almost put a full sentence together so long as you tag one another in after every breath.”

The taunt’s enough to unlodge wherever Dexter’s tongue’s at. 

“I need you to help her kill this guy while I’m gone,” he finally says bluntly. Arms folded, expression stern, yet hinted by what may as well be him begging me, which in itself, is…

Well. He’s never asked me for anything. Not like this. Though I certainly don’t owe him any favors…

“I know you know how to set up a proper kill room,” he states, and he should–he’s seen my imitation of his plastic-drenched kill room, firsthand. I’ve studied his work more than anyone. Emulated it to perfection, and all for a happily-ever-after he refused to take part of, spat cold in my face.

For a moment, I feel almost human in how I can’t seem to react or respond to this request. Though as I watch the mirrored hope in you both, as the idea of this slowly settles, I find that it doesn’t completely bore me…

My eyes drift to you. Singling you out. Stringing round your anxious expression. And you’ve mettle, at least, to not look away from the barbs of my musing intensity.

So. This is why you’ve been acting so sheepishly inept. You need big bad Brian’s help with something.

It’s laughably cute, the idea of you killing, and already I know I’m going to do it. But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make you sit in it a little. Take my time in toying with you, first.

“You want me to babysit your blackmailing little friend here,” I say to Dex, with raven-dark eyes still on you, “while she attempts–and correct me if I’m wrong here–her first kill?” 

I can tell you can feel how my gaze is dissecting you. Pulling apart, piecing together, assessing every piece and shape and shade of you. It makes you squirm, and I love it; sparing a moment to slide my tongue over the sharpness of my teeth as I feast on such a beautiful reaction. 

I turn back to Dex. “What makes you think she’s even capable?”

“I’m capable,” you insist, drawing my gaze again. And even through those nerves roused in my presence, you appear quite convinced of it. 

Interesting. 

“I can do this,” you again allege. With such frail confidence, but confidence nonetheless. “I just… need a little help.”

I tamp down the rearing head of my inquisitiveness. Ensure my interest remains vague in how I lackadaisically eye you. 

“Help with what, exactly?” I slowly ask. And it’s not a no, which I’m amused to see is so surprising.

You blink a few times, eyes growing wider, more determined–before you’re explaining, quickly, as though whatever luck this is may run out.

“Getting him to the kill site,” you say succinctly, with all the puffed-up bravado of a fluffy little rabbit pretending that they’ve slayed a fox before, and it really is amusing. “Moving the body. Clean-up.”

I let my watchful silence drag on. Held in supposed indecisive contemplation. Should I? Should I? Until, when I can nearly hear your fretting heartbeat, I feel one corner of my lips slowly quirk up. Watching every minor movement of you like a fox might a meal, might a rabbit, and find I really wouldn’t mind taking a bite. 

“Don’t need help doing the deed, then?” I subtly ask you.

Your eyebrows flicker to a knot. Lips pressing flat, before you shake your head at me. “No.”

“You sure?” I further goad, with silken smoothness. Loving those little cracks of hesitation along your lovely surface so much I’m inclined to hammer in even more of them. “‘Cause I won’t kill him for you. You have to do that, yourself. And what’s more, if you for any reason chicken out on me and can’t follow through with all this…” I calmly smile. “I’ll simply leave you there all alone with whatever maddened mess of whoever this man you’ve left behind.” The idea of it sparks a delicious flame somewhere deep below my cavernous lack of heart. “After ensuring he’s woken up, first, of course. Aware. Pissed off. Untied.” 

I smile my cheshire smile as that resolve in you flickers in place; the smallest glow, so nearly snuffed out already. 

“So?” I spur in your uncertain silence. “Do we have a deal, little killer?”

And still, you hesitate. Seeming to weigh my words with care, along with the cost of your own, which I certainly appreciate. You’re not as stupid as I’d originally believed, in any case.

At long last, you nod, but I don’t move, don’t even blink from how I wolfishly watch you from my throne of Dexter’s couch. Not until you say the words out loud. And you will, if you want my help. You have to.

If that’s a flash of resentment within those pretty eyes of yours, it only causes my broadening smirk.

“Fine,” you say at last, after thickly swallowing. “We have a deal.”

And surely light must dance in my entertained eyes as I bite back just how pleased I am by this answer. 

This should be fun.

✧˖° chapter 2

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 7

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Also Retconning from Nesta's Spring Birthday to like late November, just because otherwise my plot doesn't work.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Sky had kinda waited for the two of them to have screeching arguments…as soon as the happy bubble of a new mating bond fell away. 

But…nothing of that sort had happened.

“Let’s just keep it just for us for a little while,” he had whispered and she had agreed, curled up in his arms. Just them.

Just for a little while. Nobody else’s opinion did really matter after all. And she knew that there would be numerous opinion be had about the fact that hse had met her mate and then moved in with him in the span of less than a day…and that the two of them were utterly and deliriously happy since then. 

Just the two of them - at least for a little while longer. Sky knew that they would have to tell their friends and family eventually, that they couldn't stay in their little bubble forever, but she was in no rush. The world could wait. For now, she was perfectly content to just be with Azriel.

And they didn’t fight. About anything. 

It was...weird. 

She was waiting for arguments. She was waiting for screaming and to be told that she wasn’t enough…for him to finally realie that he had made a grave mistake…but nothing happened. 

He didn’t care that she stuffed all his bookcases with her books…or rather that his shadows did, painstakingly replicating the order she had had in her little apartment. 

Azriel even made nice with Hector and bought him tuna, jut for her sake…

She had caught Azriel and Hector curled up on the couch together last week - Azriel reading a book and Hector sprawled on his lap. She'd stared at them for a long moment. He had let Hector drool all over his shirt. Azriel had looked up at her with a sheepish grin when he noticed her staring. "He's very cuddly," he'd said, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.

Sky had just laughed, shaking her head as she made her way over to them, sitting down next to Azriel. She had rested her head on his shoulder, reaching out to pet the cat. Hector purred loudly in approval, nudging his head against Sky's hand, and she couldn't help but smile.

Azriel kept odd hours for his work, sometimes disappearing in the middle of the night or coming home then too…but Sky did too, so it didn’t bother her.

He always made time for her - making them breakfast or bringing her coffee or leaving little notes for her. 

And she horded it all away like a dragon did with it’s hoard, wanting to enjoy that just a little while longer. 

Sky made sure to do the same for him. She knew he never slept much, so she always left a cup of tea by his bed if he was late in returning, and always left some food for him… She found him a new salve for the scars on his hand, massaging it in with all the patience in the world when he admitted to her that the muscles and joints hurt as it got colder… She bought him sweets from the same little shop in the Rainbow she got her own stash of caramel candies from… She wanted to take care of him, even if she knew Azriel would never ask for it.

She loved the way he held her, as if he would never let her go. She loved the way he whispered her name as he kissed down her body, and the way he held her once they were finished, his wings wrapping around them and cocooning her in warmth. Sky had never imagined that she could be loved like this, but Azriel made her feel like she was the most precious thing in the world.

And if Azriel wasn’t there…the shadows were.

They had become her constant companions - sliding beneath doors and around walls and windows, following her through the house. At first, the shadows had been startling, but she had quickly grown used to them - they seemed to relish draping themselves over her, wrapping around her wrists, her ankles, her shoulders. The shadows would stroke at her face and whisper her name, and Sky had taken to speaking to them as well, asking them about Azriel or if they could bring her things or fetch Hector.

It was...nice not being alone anymore. Sky had never realized how lonely she had been in her little apartment, but now that she had the shadows - and Azriel - she didn’t want to go back. She loved the way the shadows seemed to watch over her, always present even if Azriel was not. And in their own way, the shadows cared for her too, always there to provide a steadying or comforting presence - or to bring her a cup of tea, or fetch her a book she needed for research...

And besides, the shadows were much better at moving furniture than Sky was. She had quickly learned that if she needed something rearranged or moved and Azriel was not around to do it, the shadows were more than happy to help.

But most of all, the shadows had come to represent Azriel to her - they were always with her, always watching over her, and she knew that even if Azriel could not be there, the shadows would always look out for her. They would keep her safe. 

It was a strange and unexpected sense of comfort, but Sky had come to cherish it. She never felt truly alone anymore, not with the shadows constantly at her back, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

And if Azriel was there…well.

The sex was better than anything she had ever imagined.

Sometimes she woke up to him between her thighs, right in the middle of throes of her pleasure, her whole body still heavy with sleep and drenched with wetness. 

He made her feel wanted, desired in a way that she had never experienced before. He never tired of her, always wanting to be close her, and she never tired of him. Every touch felt like a new discovery, and Sky was learning Azriel’s body like she had never learned anything else in her life, learning what made him moan and tremble and beg for more. She loved the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, and the way he whispered her name as he moved inside her.

But it wasn't just about the physical pleasure.

After sex…when it was just the two of them curled up in their bed, his wings wrapped around her, his head bedded on body more often than not…they talked. A truth for a truth.

She learned more about him. About his horrible sweet tooth. About the scars that covered his hands…she had traced them one evening and he had looked at her…looked at her in wonder.

He opened up to her about so many things, telling her stories from his childhood, about the horrors of the war, and about his family. Sky listened to all of it, her heart breaking for all the pain and suffering he had endured, and vowing to spend the rest of her life making him happy. And in turn, she shared her own stories with him, telling him things she had never told anyone else. It felt...good to let go of all the secrets and burdens she had carried for so long, and to know that Azriel was there to listen and to understand.

He never once cared about her stuttering. Never once rushed her.

Though she could feel… she felt so safe with him…that the stutter eased. Still there but sometimes she could go whole sentences without stuttering once..

Azriel was always patient with her, letting her take her time when she needed it, and never making her feel rushed. And to her surprise, her stutter had eased, bit by bit.

It was a strange feeling, not having to struggle through every word, to speak without fear of being judged or laughed at. And Azriel never drew attention to it, never made her feel as if she was something to be pitied or fixed. He just accepted her for who she was - stutter and all.

Sky was…so very grateful for that. She could trust Azriel with her deepest fears and insecurities, and he would always be there for her, supporting her and encouraging her. And in turn, she would do the same for him.

Being with him was so easy.

So easy, and so natural. It felt like they had been together for years, not just weeks. She couldn't imagine her life without Azriel, and she never wanted to. He made her laugh, and he made her feel loved and he wanted her.

That was probably the most startling thing.  

Sky was working on her desk, that overlooked the lake, while Azriel preferred to work upstairs in his office, and a cup of tea was gently put down next to her, a kiss pressed against the crown of her head. She couldn’t help but lean back into him with a happy sigh, tipping up her head, turning towards Azriel and letting him kiss her properly.

“Sky?” He asked softly as she leaned into the touch of the hand on her shoulder.

She hummed in answer.

“Isn’t one of your books coming out soon?” Azriel asked her softly.

“In three weeks, just in time for winter solstice shopping,” Sky answered absentmindedly. “Why?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "How high are the chances that I could…have an early copy?" Azriel asked, sounding nearly hesitant.

Sky turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You want an early copy of my book?" she asked, curious. Azriel's nod was immediate. A slow smile spread across Sky's face. "You want to read it?” she asked him hesitantly. He wanted to read her book? 

“I do want to read it. And I also have a friend who adores your books and her birthday is coming up…” Azriel said softly. “She’s important to me. Like a little sister. Her name is Nesta. And I think she may be your biggest fan.”

Sky blinked in surprise, touched by Azriel's words. She knew how much Azriel cared about his family, and to hear him describe Nesta as a little sister was...well, it was sweet. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride knowing that her books had made such an impression on someone so important to him.

She opened the drawer of her desk and pulled out one of the dozen or so she had stashed in there. At his surprised look she just shrugged. “I always get a few from the first print run,” she said drily.

Azriel took the book from her hands, his gaze softening as he looked down at the cover. "Thank you," he said quietly, his fingers tracing over the embossed title of the book. "I know she'll love it."

“Just tell her to please not let the newspaper get their hands on it,” Sky said drily, making him laugh. 

“She’ll protect this book fiercely,” he told her sagely. “Would you…sign it?” Azriel asked her. 

Sky hesitated. She had never once signed any of her books. Had never written the name Sellyn Drake as an autograph. 

But for Azriel...she could do it. For Nesta. 

So she took the book back, dipped her quill in her ink, flicking it off twice, and then wrote a short message to Nesta - wishing her a happy birthday and hoping that she enjoyed the book. 

Sky signed Sellyn Drake at the bottom, the movement feeling surprisingly natural… and felt strangely vulnerable as she handed the book back to Azriel.

Azriel looked down at the inscription, reading it over carefully before looking back at Sky. "Thank you," he said again, his voice soft and tender. "This means a lot to me, and to her."

Sky felt a warm glow settle over her, and she knew in that moment that she would do anything for Azriel. Anything to make him happy.

“You are very welcome,” she said simply.

He leaned down and kissed her, and Sky melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Azriel's neck and pulling him closer. For a moment, the world outside their little bubble of happiness seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.

***

“It seems like we need to come to some sort of agreement,” Azriel said tightly.

Hector the cat was staring at him with one eye and doing his best to intimidate him into life-long obedience, from where he was sitting in front of Azriel, who was sitting on the couch. 

"I am not going to stop sleeping in Sky's bed," he told the cat, crossing his arms. "I am not going to stop cuddling with her." Hector hissed at him in response, clearly not a fan of the fact that Azriel was going to stick around. 

It was a potential problem. Azriel glared at the ugly cat.

If it even was a cat. Sometimes he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was a stunted Mountain Lion. It was quite big for a normal cat. And uglier than that.

"You know, I am not above pretending to be allergic to you," he told the cat drily. Especially if Hector kept scratching him.

Hector shot him a disdainful look, clearly not worried. And then swiped out a paw to smack at Azriel's naked feet, claws carefully withdrawn. 

Azriel scowled down at the cat. "You're lucky Sky loves you so much," he muttered, glaring at Hector.

"We can agree to get along. I'll buy you that ridiculous expensive Tuna you like and you can come join us when we cuddle on the couch. Or we can draw a line in the sand and see who comes out on top." Azriel raised an eyebrow.

Drily he reflected that this was how far he had come. Trying to bargain with the ugliest cat he had ever seen.

Hector stared back at him for a moment, before finally letting out a "Meow" as if to say, "Fine, fine, you can stay - for now." 

Azriel let out a sigh of relief, glad that the cat had finally agreed to some sort of truce. And he knew that Sky would be happy too - she loved that mangly cat more than anything. So he would put up with Hector - for Sky's sake.

Hector smacked him on the arm and crawled into his lap.

Azriel hesitantly petted his head. “You do realize you weigh a ton, right?” he told the cat drily.

Sky had told him that he had been all skin and bones when she had found him. Yeah, that was definitely no longer true.

Hector rolled over on his back, demanding belly rubs.

Azriel sighed, shaking his head as he reluctantly obliged, rubbing Hector's belly, where the cat’s fur was patchy. 

 Azriel couldn't deny that the cat was oddly endearing, even if he would never admit it out loud. And as Hector purred contentedly in his lap, Azriel couldn't help but smile.

Maybe he could put up with this cat after all. For Sky's sake, of course.

Just for Sky. 

Just for Sky's sake, he bought the cat ridiculous expensive treats, a scratching post and toys.

And he found that, as the weeks went on, he didn't mind as much when Hector would jump into bed with them in the middle of the night, curling up next to Sky. Or when he would bat at Azriel's toes while he read.

Nobody ever needed to know when he asked Gwyn to help him find some books about cats and their proper nourishment and exercise.

"Thank you," he thanked the red headed priestess when she handed him a whole stack of them at the end of their next private dagger lesson.

"No, thank you.  Finally I can pay you back for all the dagger lessons," Gwyn said with a bright grin. "Are you...Are you thinking about adopting a cat?" she asked him curiously.

"No. A friend did," he answered truthfully.

"Making nice with it then?" Gwyn asked him and he sighed.

"I am pretty sure the cat plots my murder on a daily basis," he answered only half joking.

Gwyn laughed, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Have you tried giving it treats?" Gwyn suggested helpfully.

Azriel opened his mouth to respond but at that moment, Rhys landed just a few feet away. Probably training with Cassian early in the morning, before they did their usual training with the priestesses and Valkyries.

"I even bought him ridiculously overpriced, fresh tuna," he admitted drily, making her laugh.

"Good luck with your bribes," Gwyn said with another laugh. "See you later, shadowsinger," she said with a wave over her shoulder. Azriel looked after her for a moment and then passed over to one of the weapon racks, starting his usual inspection.

"Dagger Lessons?" Rhys asked him, as he crossed over to him. 

"Yes," Azriel agreed. He could hear the inflection in Rhys' voice, a lilting question. He didn't even want to know what Rhys was thinking.

"Just With Gwyn?" Rhys asked, tone still carefully neutral.

Azriel sighed, turning to face his friend. "Yes, just with Gwyn," he confirmed. Azriel kept his tone neutral, almost indifferent.

Azriel went back to his dagger inspection, keeping his mind focused on the task at hand.

He could feel Rhys's eyes on him, but he didn't waver. He knew his brother well enough to know that Rhys was trying to get a reaction out of him. And je wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Azriel didn't need to wait long. He could feel the talons of Rhys' daemati powers scratch against his mental shields just moments later. He let him in with a sigh. Was he officially going to get warned off Gwyn as well? 

Apparently Azriel was.

*If you want more from her, don't you dare pressuring her,* Rhys snapped into his mind.

Azriel nearly started to bristle. He wondered if Rhys even thought about how much of an insult it was. Ever thought of what it meant that he thought that Azriel would pressure Gwyn in anything she didn’t want. 

But he just answered flatly. *Then it will calm you to know that I couldn't possibly be less interested in Gwyn romantically.*

Maybe in another life. But not in this one.

*So what, you'll keep yearning after Elain?* Rhys asked him sharply.

Azriel looked up from the daggers, fixing Rhys with a glare.

*I behave. That's what you want. What I do or don't feel outside of that is none of your business,* Azriel gave back.

He was sick of this. Sick of Rhys treating him like he was some kind of reckless child who couldn't be trusted to make his own decisions. 

*I'll behave. As I always do.* He repeated that with more force, his glare hardening.

And as a side note, I am perfectly capable of handling my own feelings, Rhys. I don't need your interference.

The words hung in the air between them, sharp and pointed.

Azriel held Rhys's gaze for a beat longer, then turned back to the daggers. But he could feel the tension between them, the unspoken words that still hovered in the air.

He was so fucking done with Rhys’ meddling. Or with his brother not trusting him to handle his own feelings like an adult. 

*Oh really?* Rhys crossed his arms, wings spreading wide at his back. *How long have you been pining after Elain, knowing damn well that it would only bring you misery?*

It was a punch beneath what was appropriate. Both knew it.

But AZriel couldn't even fucking care at that moment.

He slammed down the mental walls, forcing Rhys out of his mind immediately.

Quite frankly, he hadn't thought about Elain once after Sky and him had accepted the mating bond. He hadn't fucking cared anymore.

 Elain could do whatever she wanted. So could Mor.  Azriel was kinda busy with doting on his mate.

Sky mattered. 

Sky actually wanted him around. Sky liked him enough to let him share her bed and curl around her and had not once flinched away from his shadows. 

Rhys could say and do whatever he wanted but he was not getting near Sky. 

"Good Morning!" At least Cassian was in a good mood.

Azriel barely acknowledged Cassian's cheerful greeting, his mind still reeling from his confrontation with Rhys. He wasn't in the mood to banter or make small talk. But Cassian, being Cassian, didn't seem to pick up on the tension in the air.

He plopped down on the ground beside Azriel, stretching out his wings lazily.

"What's got you brooding?" Cassian asked, eyeing Azriel curiously.

"Still figuring out Nesta's birthday gift," he said drily. It wasn't even a lie.

Cassian sighed.  "Good luck with that, brother. Nes can be quite the challenge to please," he said with a groan. "I still have no idea what to get her and I am her mate. I thought I would get her a new book but the only one she is interested in at the moment is the next Sellyn Drake book and that's not out for 3 weeks," Cassian complained.

Huh.

It seemed like Cassian may have just solved Azriel’s own gift debacle.

How high were the chances that he could talk Sky into giving him an early peek at her newest book?

Apparently it was as simple as asking. She gave it to him without hesitation, with a smile and he loved her just a little bit more just for that.

And he did love her. So fucking much.

It was so easy to be with her. So easy.

Azriel had never felt like this with anyone before. It was effortless to be with her, to be himself around her. She never expected anything from him, never pushed him to be someone he wasn't. She saw him for who he was, and accepted him completely.

She even accepted the shadows.

Azriel knew that the shadows were a part of him, and he had always been conscious of the way they might make people uncomfortable. But with Sky, it was different. She didn't shy away from them or make him feel like he needed to hide them from her. She even seemed to find a certain beauty in them.

She never flinched away, even when the shadows whispered against her skin...even when they touched her.

It was as if, for the first time, the shadows were not something to be feared or loathed. They were simply just a part of him, and she accepted them as such. She never asked him to change or try to control them, and it was a freedom he had never experienced before.

And quite frankly...he would rather stay with her, in their house and let himself be bullied by her cat that to sit through another family dinner.

But he did it. Just for Nesta. It was her birthday after all.

It wasn't going to be that bad. Probably.

He would just remind himself of who was waiting for him at home. That made it easy. 

And it wasn't even that bad. It could be worse.

Rhys even left him alone, mostly because Azriel did his best to stay away from Mor and Elain and Gwyn and Rhys himself for good measure, which left him with the conversation partners of Amren and Varian...and then he just needed to stay silent and let his mind wander to the feeling of Sky's hands when she scratched his scalp...the way she snuggled up to him in her sleep...to the freckles that covered her face...Azriel let his mind drift to thoughts of Sky as he sat at dinner, choosing to ignore the others' conversation. 

He knew that Rhys was probably watching him with a smug look on his face, probably thinking that Azriel was thinking of Elain instead. But Azriel didn't care. He was content in his thoughts of Sky.

Finally, they were handing gifts to Nesta, which meant that the evening was coming to an end.

Thank the cauldron for that. 

Azriel watched as Nesta unwrapped gifts from the others: jewelry from Amren, a painting of Velaris from Feyre…

“Happy Birthday,” Azriel told her softly as he handed her his gift.

“Thank you,” Nesta told him graciously, smiling at him. “Oh, chocolate!” He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm at the bag of chocolate candies that was tied to her gift with ribbon. 

Azriel smiled, watching as Nesta excitedly tore open the bag of chocolate candies that he had bought her…Sky and him had taken an ambling walk through Velaris one afternoon, ending near the rainbow in a tiny candy shop where his mate procured her caramel candies from and he had picked them up for Nesta. 

Well, that and a few different ones to try for him and Sky.

He was just glad that Nesta seemed to like it. And then Nesta unwrapped the book.

“Cassian said you were very excited to finally read it,” he told her drily. Nesta flipped it over, eyes devouring the title.

“HOW?!” She demanded, her voice half a screech. A far cry from how composed and quiet she usually was. “How did you get it?!?” And then she was already moving to hug him fiercely, pressing a kiss against his cheek. Azriel chuckled, giving her a quick hug back. He was glad that she seemed to like his gift so much.

"Cassian let it slip that you were interested in the new Sellyn Drake book, so I thought I'd pull some strings and get you an early copy," he explained. "Happy Birthday, Nesta."

“What kind of fucking strings did you pull?!” Cassian complained pouting. “I went to every bookstore in Velaris and none could get it to me earlier than in three weeks.” 

Azriel couldn’t help but smirk at Cassian's complaint. "You know me, Cassian. I have my ways," he drawled. "Maybe you just need to expand your network."

“You had the shadows steal it, didn’t you?” Cassian asked him with a glare. Azriel couldn’t help but snort.

“No, I asked Sellyn Drake to give it to me and she did,” he said drily. “Though I'm sure Nesta couldn't care less how I got the book, as long as she gets to read it."

“Oh, I do care.” Nesta assured him immediately. “You asked Sellyn Drake? Nobody knows who she is! You know her? How? When? Why?”

Azriel chuckled, amused by Nesta's rapid-fire questions. "Yes, I know Sellyn Drake. I asked her for a favor, and she obliged. Simple as that. As for the why, well, I knew how badly you wanted to read her new novel, so I thought it would be a nice surprise for your birthday,” he told her easily, smiling softly at Azriel. 

Cassian still looked suspicious, eyeing Azriel with a critical eye. "You asked the author herself to give you an early copy of her book? Just like that?" he asked skeptically.

“Just like that,” Azriel said calmly.

“So she actually exists?” Gwynn asked him curiously, everybody turned to stare at her. “What?! You know I had my theory!”

“Gwyn’s theory is that Sellyn Drake isn’t one single person, but instead a whole group of incredible talented authors,” Nesta said with a grin.

"Oh, she definitely exists. I can vouch for that. She’s very sweet,” Azriel told Nesta simply, who opened her book, hungrily opening the front pages…

“…this is signed,” Nesta breathed. “Sellyn Drake knows my name.” 

He was pretty sure that he had heard religious people sound less worshipping than Nesta did at that moment. 

For just a moment he wanted to think about how it would be for Nesta and Sky to meet, but he forced himself not to. Not where Rhys could snap that up. 

“What?! No way!” Emerie exclaimed, clambering to take a look at the book. “Cauldron boil me.” She breathed.

“There isn’t a single signed Sellyn Drake book!” Gwyn exclaimed. 

Azriel couldn't help but chuckle at the others’ reactions. "Well, I guess that makes this a pretty special gift then," he said simply, sipping his wine with a satisfied smile.

“Very special,” Nesta told him softly, looking at him wideyed. “This is…This is incredible, Az.” 

Azriel merely inclined his head, accepting the comment. “I’m glad "It's not often that I can surprise someone who's as hard to impress as you are."

Nesta gave him a playful swat on the arm. "You know I'm not that hard to please," she told him. "You just have to know me well enough to know what I want. And apparently you do. Thank you.”

[boypied]

MISTER POPULAR.

pairings: fiyero tigelaar x male reader

summary: a love story blooms when fiyero does a simple act of kindness by helping a fellow peer out.

requested by: me ;)

mentions: strangers to friends, flirting.

[part two] [part three] - coming soon

He was the most sought-after guy at Shiz University. He had practically all the girls all over him aswell as the majority of the guys, whether they would willingly admit it or not. Because of his popularity status and your lack of time, he never really noticed you or even looked your way...atleast that is what you thought. You hadn't said one word to him during your first semester at Shiz but you had completely fallen head over hills for him, and you were now too far gone. So what if he was completely full of himself and possibly a bit of a snob? You could tell it was all just an act, but somehow no one else could cause they weren't looking at him for who he was they were looking at him for how he presented himself.

You were running through the Shiz University halls one fateful day as you woke up late, completely sleeping through your personalised ozian alarm clock. You are speeding through until you trip on someone's banana peel skidding across the floor and all your textbooks going flying. You swiftly get up off your face, and you begin picking up all of your books, praying that no one had seen this horrifically embarrassing moment. In the corner of your eye, you see someone strut over and kneel down to give you their hand as you manage to gather all of your textbooks off the floor. You take the kind gentlemen hand and you look up to thank him until you turn a bright shade of red when your eyes meet with Fiyero's.

"F-Fiy..." You try to stutter out, but his name won't leave your mouth. He shakes your hand. "Fiyero Tigelaar," he says confidently as he takes some of the textbooks from your grasp, "you do know we don't have class today.. right?" He says softly as he begins walking back to the dorm area of Shiz. You immediately begin following next to him, practically lost for words that he would even look your way, let alone help you out. He stops outside your dorm room and turns around to face you, "keys?" He asks in a soft tone your eyes meet with his for a moment until you break the gaze and hand him the keys. "Wait... how did you know -" You begin talking for a moment before Fiyero cuts you off, walking inside your bedroom and dropping your books down on your desk, causing a big thud.

This was just the beginning for you both. Over the course of a couple of weeks, Fiyero began to capture little cute moments of you with his Shiz camera that he stole from the photography section of the Univeristy. He still hadn't caught on to the fact that you were in love with him. You tried not to focus on how you felt about him cause simply that this was just enough. His acknowledging you was everything you ever needed. He had a surprise for you that had your stomach in knots thinking about what it could entail. He had his thick veiny hands on your shoulders as he had you blindfolded walking through some sort of grassy area. You could tell by the feeling of the tall grass against your legs.

The feeling of the grass against your legs stopped as you step forward once more, "are you ready" he whispers in your ear feeling his hot breath against your ear made your body shudder beneath his touch, he doesn't understand what he does to you. "I-Im ready," you stutter out nervously as Fiyero practically pulls you down onto some sort of velvety blanket. Light blesses your eyes as he unties the blindfold once it's finally dropped off your face. The first thing to grace your sight is Fiyero..his beautiful blue orbs, the ones that captured you originally were staring right into yours. A small smile on his face as he pulled away from your face, revealing a picnic he had set up for you, away from Shiz University.

Your eyes fill up with tears, and Fiyero immediately leans over the food to get closer to comfort you, "d-did I do something wrong?" He says in a worried tone, but you just laugh through your tears, shaking your head. "No! Not at all, just... no one has ever made me feel like this before." You stutter out as Fiyero's smile brightens you up again as he gently rubs your shoulder sitting down properly again. "I like this spot...it's so quiet and away," Fiyero says in a soft tone as he takes a strawberry and bites it. He looks out into the beautiful corn field ahead of us seeing the Scarecrow that watches over the crops. He brings the half eaten strawberry to your lips. "Take a bite," he says in a soft, quiet tone.

You lean forward slightly, taking a bite out of the same strawberry he has been eating, the mixture of the strawberry with a small portion of his spit was to die for. This is the closest you'll get to kissing him is what ran through your mind, the closest you'll get to tasting him. You swallow the strawberry after savouring the flavour for a strange amount of time but not enough for it to cause Fiyero to become concerned. He watches the way your face fills with pleasure as you swallow the strawberry. He softly nibbles his lip, watching you. You both ate like kings and packed up everything, "sad this is over," you say to him as you turn to face Fiyero. He turns his head slightly to look down, "Don't worry... who says I'm not planning another picnic as we speak." He says as confidence practically drips off him.

You begin walking through the tall, tall grass, feeling it brush against you both. The sun shines on you both perfectly as you stop to face it, this is the moments that are in all those romantic books you read. Golden hour covering your faces, amongst nature and a gentle breeze blowing your hair perfectly. You both lock eyes and Fiyero subconsciously puts his picnic basket on the floor without breaking the eye contact, the tension between you both would be able to be cut with a knife. Fiyero's hands connect to your cheeks as his thumb rubs your smooth supple skin he leans down slightly and connects your lips together.

The world was spinning, all the stars has aligned. You had never felt his fire inside of you before as Fiyero's lips connected to yours, you get up on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck pulling his lips closer to yours. Your bodies pressing against one another, the kiss passionate and beautiful. Fiyero pulls away softly to meet your gaze as a strip of spit still connects your lips, a faint blush crosses over both your cheeks. "Fiyero..." You mumble out in a soft tone as you take his hands, a panic stretches visibly across his face as he pulls away "uh-" is all he can mutter out "sorry I've got to go!" He blurts out in a panic as he scoops up his basket and runs off through the tall grass back to Shiz University.

You eyes follow him as he runs off in a panic, the sun begins to set and the grass darkens as you stand there still frozen in shock about the whole thing. You had the best and first kiss of your life and then Fiyero panicked and ran off, you slowly walk back to Shiz, slumped over and shy you walk back to your dorm room to find that your door is already unlocked and open, your eyes widen as you slowly walk inside. "F-Fiyero?!" You say in shock as he sits there on your bed with tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry!" He repeats himself over and over again between sobs as he stands up to walk over to you, you pull him into your warm embrace "shh...it's okay" you whisper to him aswell as sweet nothings to try and calm him down.

Fiyero snuggles his face against your neck, leaning down to make sure he can. His tear soaked face soaked your neck, you slowly manage to sit you both down on the bed where you comfort him and he tells you why he ran off. "I wasn't expecting us to kiss... I didn't even know I liked- ... I can't say it" he says nervously and embarrassed, you softly smile at him as you take in what he's just said as you gently caress his arm, your hand gently wipes a tear from his cheek. "You don't need to label yourself, just...like who you like" you whisper softly to him as his eyes lighten up slightly and his sniffles quiet down. His hand gently caresses your cheek once again like when you were both in the tall grass, "y/n..." He says in a quiet voice "I...like you" he mumbles out softly as his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

"I've liked you for a while now Fiyero" you openly confess to him as he leans in and gently pecks his lips against yours, both pulling away and smiling softly at eachother. Fiyero pulls you into his warm embrace as he gently caresses your cheek and then running his hand through your hair. "Can we stay like this?" You say softly to him as your face is in his chest as he lays back against your bed, "yes...I'd like that" he say to you as he closes his eyes and enjoys knowing that you there for him, enjoying your warmth, enjoying your presence.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter

[aurorasdaybreak]

if this world were ours ‿❀° sylus qin (m)

summary: during the first sunny spring day in linkon city, you and sylus decide to pick up right where you left off. info: sylus x afab!reader | story compliant | fluff, smut | 18+ | 11k words warnings: this is tooth rotting fluff with cheese levels comparable to a romcom bc the sweetest man deserves it after everything he's been through (;-;), hesitation on both sylus and mc's parts, references night of secrecy memory but if mc didn't go with sylus, tara and simone make an appearance, almost getting caught in a dressing room by the previously mentioned characters, sylus x reader smut, the slightest bit of dom!sylus x sub!afab!reader but it's barely mentioned, use of pet names (kitten, angel, vixen), f!receiving nipple play, teasing, f!receiving oral sex, clit play, f!receiving multiple orgasms, f!receiving overstimulation (GUYS SYLUS IS A PLEASURE DOM I KNOW IT IN MY SOUL), mentions of safe signals, sylus has a big dick, unprotected sex, cumming inside, this is very sappy and cheesy i am warning you NOW author's note: guys titles are hard to come up with SDGHJBGFHJSD but happy belated birthday to the sweetest dragon man - and thank you guys for waiting :')) work is kicking my ass but MAYBE HOPEFULY FINALLY I AM WRITING MORE!! as always pls feel free to leave your thoughts in my ask :')) thank you for reading!! <3 disclaimer: not beta read, will edit soon for any mistakes!! if you are a minor and you're seeing this, i ask that you turn away and do not read. this is an 18+ story and minors are not welcome. if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics listed in the warning, please do not read this story! ‿❀° songs listened to include take a chance with me by niki and luther by kendrick lamar and sza

The first sunny spring day after a long winter is always your favorite day of the year.

You wake up to the warmth of sunlight on your cheek, filtering in between the gap of your curtain. There’s a pleasantly lazy feeling that spreads through your body - one that makes you want to curl back into your sheets and doze off for a couple more hours.

You groan when you hear your phone vibrate against your side table, though, and you blindly reach around to grab the offending gadget.

You don’t even look, simply swiping your phone across the screen and holding it up to your ear. “____ here, what’s up?”

“____!” Came a cheerful, peppy voice that has you waking up just a little bit faster. You sit up as you process that it’s Tara, and you can’t help but smile as you run your fingers along the silky fabric of your bedding.

“Something’s definitely up,” you joke as you rub your eyes. “It’s 6 am and you’re always grumpy at this time, so either we get today off or you got a really good coffee.”

“Ding ding ding! We have today off, bestie!” Tara’s excitement is contagious, and you can’t help but laugh. “The higher ups have some sort of meeting out of town today, so while tech staff have to be in office today we’re on call but technically have the day off. Simone and I were talking about going to the mall so we can get noodles and blind boxes, do you wanna tag along?”

“Hmm,” you muse, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “While I’d love to, I need to do some grocery shopping and return some books. Maybe we can plan a proper outing together soon?”

“For sure,” Tara says. “Maybe we can check out that new karaoke place and barbecue place during the weekend! We need a good girl’s night out.”

“As long as I’m not the DD,” comes your half-joking, half serious reply. “The way you convinced Simone to keep taking shots was…inspiring, to say the least.”

“Oh please,” she scoffs, and if you put your mind to it you could almost see her waving her hand. “I’ll just have Nero pick us up or something. You need to partake in the shots too - don’t think I haven’t seen the way you gaze out the window and sigh longingly to yourself about your mystery hunk.”

“I have not!” Even with how quickly your reply comes, though, you and Tara both know that she’s right.

Because, oh, yes you have.

It had been some weeks since your…night with a certain Onychinus leader - a night that you keep replaying in your head over and over again, no matter how many times you tried to focus on the present and current missions in front of you.

You had been slated to go with him to your shared destination, but a frantic call from Jenna had you regretfully cancelling your ticket last minute and dropping him off at the airport instead. You still remember the way his palms felt cupping your cheeks, thumbs brushing the damp skin under your eyes and wiping away your sadness before pressing his lips to your forehead and leaning down to whisper in your ear:

“Don’t miss me too much sweetie, we’ll see each other soon.”

You turn your head to the direction of your bedroom window following the end of your memory, staring at the dust dancing between the filtered streams of sunlight while you think of soft eyes and an uncharacteristically sweet smile as he turned back and gave you a salute before disappearing in the sea of travelers.

You wonder what he’s doing right now.

“Earth to ____!” Came Tara’s teasing voice from your phone. You blink rapidly and feel yourself heat slightly with embarrassment at how you’ve left Tara hanging. “You’re thinking about your mystery hunk, huh?”

“Ye-no, ugh! Tara!” You try to ignore the flare of indignation that burns in your stomach at her laughter, although you can’t help the smile that begins to form on your face. “I’m hanging up now.”

“See you tomorrow, ____!” With her last greeting, you hang up the call and toss your phone towards the foot of your bed before flopping back down onto your pillow and grabbing a random plushie so that you can scream into the soft toy.

“Freaking stupid,” you mumble to yourself when you finally lift your head away from the plushie, only to groan when you see it’s the stuffed crow that he won for you. You poke at its eye, imagining that it can see right through you like the person who won you the toy.

“Y’know, sometimes I think that he can see me through you,” you mutter softly, tracing the crow’s exaggerated eyebrows. You poke at its beak, and you giggle when you imagine poking a certain someone’s nose. You poke its beak once more before you reach up to pet its head, shaking your head and sighing deeply while you do so. “If it just so happens that he can see me through you…well, you better get home safely.”

You hold your breath, waiting for the crow’s right eye to glow a vivid red.

One beat passes, and then another…

…but nothing happens.

You sigh once more, gently placing the crow by your pillow before pulling the sheets off of your legs and standing up to stretch and get ready for the day.

It would do you no good to worry about him, you have stuff you need to do for yourself.

You’re proud to say it - you’ve gotten a lot of shit done in the past couple of hours.

You’ve returned your books that were teetering on the edge of being overdue, smiling sheepishly at the librarian who quirked an eyebrow at you when you plopped down another stack of romance novels onto the checkout counter. After quickly dropping off your books back at your apartment, you make your way to the mall nearby so that you do some window shopping.

You slowly make your way through the crowded mall halls, easily dodging the small children that run amuck and apologizing to the couples strolling arm in arm when you’re too slow to maneuver past them. Even with how busy it is, however, you still maintain your good mood - and it seems as though everyone around you does as well.

Everyone around you is relishing in the first warmth of spring, and you can’t help but smile in contentment.

You stop outside of a Twinkle Toys storefront, looking down at the new blind boxes that they have on display. You hope that none of them catch your eye, but then you see it: a cherry blossom series where your favorite characters have silly poses and goofy smiles.

You heave a sigh, torn between buying a full set so that you can display it throughout the entire year or saving your hard-earned money. Your eyes flicker between the set and your purse, and you shake your head to yourself before stepping in and approaching the display.

“Just this once,” you murmur to yourself as you pick up a box. “Just this one set, to reward yourself for doing a good job.”

You make your way to the cashier, and you try not to cringe as you place the box on the counter. The worker barely blinks though, and easily scans the item as they read off your total. You bend your head so that you can fish out your wallet, but before you can hand over your card you find your attention caught by something.

A 6’2, silver-haired, red-eyed something.

“Please tap your card on the screen- lady, hey, wait-!”

You don’t even register that you’re walking away from your new blind box set and making your way out of the store, pushing past a crowd of college students as you begin to pick up your pace.

There’s no way it’s him, right?

You slowly see that head of silver hair come into your vision, and you all but break out into a sprint as you attempt to catch up to him before the crowd swallows you whole. You’re not gonna let him go - not without talking to him first, at least.

Soon enough, you’re within a fingertip’s reach to the man’s (ridiculously ornate) trench coat, and you reach out to grab the fabric so that you can get his attention-

-only to be pushed into his solid frame, stumbling and crashing into his body.

You hear an oof escape his chest as you collide, and you squeal as you try and stabilize your body so that you don’t topple over. Your footing isn’t so steady, however, so you end up tumbling into a pair of arms.

You gulp when you see a black silk button-up, and you let your head slowly move up just so that you avoid his eyes - instead focusing on the pair of lips you’ve dreamed about over the past couple of weeks. You watch as the mouth forms its signature smirk, and you can’t help but shiver when you hear the laugh you didn’t realize you were craving until now.

“Looks like the kitten distribution system is at work today,” comes Sylus’s amused tone, and you feel yourself heat slightly before pushing your body away from him. 

“I just had to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating,” you murmur back sheepishly, taking the time to straighten your cardigan and smoothing your skirt of its nonexistent wrinkles. You finally build up the courage to stare at his full face, and you can’t help the way that your stomach flips when you gaze at him.

Oh, how you missed his handsome face. You didn’t even realize how much you craved his presence until just now, when you were confronted with the sight of him after a long couple of weeks.

You try and wrack your brain for something, anything to say. You should ask him about the trip, how the investigation went, and when did he come back to Linkon? Why is he in Linkon in the first place? 

Did Sylus think of you as much as you thought of him?

Out of all of the things you could say, however, the first thing that slips out of your mouth is a breathless, “There’s no way you’re not sweating in that ridiculous trench coat.”

Sylus quirks an eyebrow at your statement. “I’m quite well ventilated, thank you very much.”

“Well…you don’t really fit in,” you say lamely, gesturing to the crowd around you. “It’s uh, it’s pretty warm today, Sylus.”

The corners of his lips tilt up, and you can see the exact moment he decides to humor you. “Oh, is that right sweetie? What do you suggest we do about that?”

You can’t quite hide the pleased smile that forms on your face as you hear the word “we”, although you try to maintain your bravado as you pretend to ponder over your already created solution. Your contemplation is short-lived, however, when a couple jostles you back into his arms.

Sylus catches you with ease, and you try to disguise the way your hands shake as you push him away once more. You can still see his smirk, however, so you scowl and push the sleeves of your cardigan up to your elbows.

“You need a clothing makeover.” It’s a ridiculous statement that makes him chuckle and you think for a moment that he’ll shoot down the idea, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he grabs your hand and places it in the crook of your elbow with a gentle reverence.

“And what will this clothing makeover have in store?” His voice is right by your ear, and you fight the shiver that races down your spine at his sudden proximity and deep, lilting voice. “Polyester?”

It’s his way of teasing you - you know it from the way his eyes sparkle as he regards you softly, the beginnings of a genuine smile curling on the corners of his lips. He’s waiting to see if you’ll back down or rise to the occasion, to see just how much of a rise he can get out of you - so you decide to play coy.

“Worse.” You make it so that your tone reflects his intimate quality, and you find that you feel pleased in the way he looks slightly flustered when you tiptoe up so that you can place your lips right by the shell of his ear. “Matching cardigans.”

“Oh?” Sylus shakes off his momentary daze and composes himself. His eyes trace a line from the curve of your neck to the white knitted cardigan you paired with your jean skirt this morning, and you feel your fingers tremble when you see the tiniest spark in his eyes before it flits away. “Don’t suppose this comes in black?”

You barely feel it, but his hand snakes around your back and settles on your hip, making a subtle show of rubbing the fabric in between his fingers and letting the pads of his fingers just barely run along the curve of your hip. You feel yourself heat slightly at this sudden proximity - torn between pulling yourself together so that you can spend a proper day with him or pulling him towards the bus stop so you can bring him to your apartment and show him just how much you missed him.

“Kitten?”

Sylus breaks you from your self-imposed lust with a squeeze to your hip, and you fight the urge to go with the latter option. Instead, you shake your head to give yourself clarity before smiling up at him. “It’s nothing at all, let’s get you a matching cardigan in black.”

You wait with bated breath as you see if he’ll buy your lame excuse, hoping that he doesn’t look too deeply into your shaky smile and the way you know your eyes look slightly unfocused. You know you look like you’ve been thinking about something that shouldn’t be thought of in the middle of a public space - it’s the same look that Tara and Simone have caught you with while Sylus was gone the past couple of weeks, and you pray that Sylus just doesn’t think too heavily about it.

You don’t quite know what you would say to him if he even brought it up.

Thankfully, Sylus chooses to brush past it - retracting his hand from your wait and placing your hand back into the crook of his elbow. “All right, sweetie,” he says as he looks at you expectantly. “Lead the way.”

“First order of business,” you say as you pull Sylus into a clothing store. “You’re in clothing that’s way too gaudy and…fine for all of us civilians here in Linkon City. We need to disguise you so that the Hunters who are off duty don’t haul your ass to the Association.”

“Interesting,” he muses as you gesture for him to turn for you. He grins and humors you, holding out his arms and slowly turning in an exaggerated circle. He stops his movements with an over the top pose, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“Keep your arms out,” you command, and he follows your request as you guide him to the men’s clothing section.

“This is quite a lot, sweetie,” Sylus says curiously as you begin to dump a selection of short sleeved button downs and cotton shirts into his arms. “And very…mundane.”

“Oh calm down, almighty leader of Onychinus.” You grab a plain shirt from the pile in his arms and hold up the tag to his eyes, making sure that he sees the words 100% COTTON written on the label. “These clothes aren’t going to make you any less handsome or make you break out into hives because it’s not silk, they’re just meant to have you blend in with everyone here in Linkon.”

“So you think I’m handsome,” he replies cheekily. You fight the urge to roll your eyes once again, although you can’t help the way your skin heats slightly at his teasing tone.

“Oh, shut it Sylus,” you mumble, and he laughs at the way you turn your head back so that you can rub at your cheeks furiously.

His arms full of clothing, you begin guiding him into the dressing rooms nearby. The attendant raises an eyebrow at the amount of clothing Sylus has with him, but lets him enter anyway. You walk him to his assigned dressing room, and Sylus raises an eyebrow at you that has you giving your own confused look back at him.

“Aren’t you going to join me, kitten?” He asks, and you sputter at the insane question.

“What- no! Sylus, you’re the only one meant in the room-” The words tumble frantically from your mouth as you all but push him into the room, yanking the curtain shut so that he can’t see the way he leaves you flustered so easily. “Just…just try on the damn clothes Sylus!”

You try to ignore the way his chuckle makes your knees weak.

You stand vigil at his dress room, occasionally offering comments to him when he opens the curtain and lets you see his try on haul. You automatically say no to an electric blue short sleeve (“It’s like your color analysis only favors you in shades of red and black!”) and he discards all of the shirts that have even a percentage of polyester in its blend (“Absolutely not, ____.”) but you both find a common favorite with a simple, black, short-sleeved button down.

“It’s just…” you begin, and you taper off when you see the way the buttons at his chest strain.

“Just what?” He repeats, and he looks down in confusion when you point at his chest - looking off at the wall behind his head so you don’t have to see the muscles of his body or the smirk on his face.

“Ah.” He replies, and he shrugs casually as he begins to unbutton the top. “Just get me a bigger size, then.”

And before you can even say anything else, he shuts the curtain.

On you.

“Dammit Sylus,” you mutter, and you roll your eyes when you hear his snort from the other side of the curtain.

“Unless you want me to go out-” he begins, but you gulp and pull the curtains shut when you see his fingers wrap around the fabric, ready to pull it open.

“Just stay there!” You squeak, and you run off before his teasing laughter can envelope you once more.

You take your sweet time wandering around the store - not because you don’t know where the button down is, but because you need the time to get a grip on yourself. Why are you acting like a giddy, doe-eyed college girl around him? It’s just Sylus, for goodness sake!

You stop in front of a mirror by the button downs, looking at yourself in the reflection. It’s still you - still the same cardigan, tank top, and long jean skirt you put on this morning. Still the same hair, same nails, same eye bags under your eyes you gained when you tossed and turned over him and his safety…

You scowl at your reflection, marching over to the rack you picked up the shirt and rifling through for a bigger size. By the time you grab the article of clothing, you have settled something in yourself and created a new, calm demeanor in which to approach your emotions so that they don’t go mucking up your time with him.

It was one night, and he surely isn’t thinking about it in the same way you were over the past couple of weeks. You’re over it. You don’t care.

And you’ll spend the rest of this spring day convincing yourself if you have to.

You make your way back to the dressing room, but you pause when you hear a pair of voices drawing closer to you. You pause, straining to hear - only for your muscles to freeze up when you realize just who those tones belong to.

Shit shit shit, ____! Hide behind the clothing rack-

“Man, I miss ____,” Tara sighs as you all but throw your body against the nearest clothing rack, holding the shirt you picked up for Sylus and praying that the silky black fabric makes you vanish from all view. “She’d make today so fun! I mean, we could go to the library and then do groceries, maybe cook a meal in her dream of a kitchen?”

“____ and I would be cooking,” Simone corrects, and you shiver when you hear Tara’s scoff move closer to you. “You would be eating the things we prepared before we even finished anything!”

“Okay, in my defense-” Tara begins, but you can’t find it in yourself to be interested in their rambles when you see Simone’s signature inky black hair in your peripheral vision. You don’t even think, you just walk as fast as you can towards the dressing room.

You breathe a deep sigh of relief when you make your way back to Sylus’s designated fitting room, pulling the fabric just the tiniest bit and shoving the hanger into the small room.

“You were gone for a while, ____.” Sylus’s voice is casual as he takes the hanger from you, although you don’t miss the curiosity that tinges his tone as he pulls the curtain shut. “What were you doing, fighting Wanderers in the mall?”

“I wish,” you mumble, and you tilt your head back against a nearby column as you remember your vow to keep your cool around him. “I got…I got lost.”

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” he replies teasingly.

“I- fuck, Sylus,” you curse, and you fiddle with the ends of your cardigan as you direct your vision to the ceiling and try your absolute hardest to not spill your every thought about him to him. “I saw my friends so I needed to dodge them.”

“Why would you need to hide from them? Did something happen?”

“No, not at all!” you begin, trying to think of some sort of reason that’ll get him off of your back. “I just-”

“Just what, kitten?”

“I-” you try to begin again, but your voice tapers off as it dawns on you just how insane this entire situation is. The person you’re falling deeply for is currently trying on clothes, and you’re right outside his dressing room while your friends are in the same store the two of you are in. You’re on the precipice of inadvertently announcing to the world that the infamous leader of Onychinus is the one you can’t get your mind off at all - but your fear of his response is holding you back.

You try to squash the words that are on the tip of your tongue, the questions that have been haunting you over the past couple of weeks. How can you even begin to tell Sylus how much you missed him, that you think about that night more times than you care to admit?

Does he know how deeply he’s burrowed himself into your heart?

You clench your fists and open your mouth, ready to come up with some shitty excuse, but before something can spill out you hear Tara’s voice and you gasp.

“Shit-” you all but gasp to yourself as you yank the curtain open, stuffing yourself into the dressing room before you can even think about your actions.

“I could’ve sworn I heard her voice,” you hear Simone muse as you hear footsteps walk past the dressing room. “She said something about a…stylus?”

You hear a chuckle from above you, and you immediately push your hand up to cover his mouth while you grip the curtain in your fist. “Don’t. Even. Start.”

“Just say you miss ____ and keep moving!” Tara’s muffled voice gets louder as the pair passes by Sylus’s dressing room, and you close your eyes as if it’ll make you disappear. “Although…I miss her too, honestly.”

“I’m not exaggerating, Tara,” Simone scoffs back, and a little piece of you dies when you hear her enter the dressing room opposite the one you’re currently in. “I could’ve sworn I saw her too, in that cardigan she was agonizing over buying-”

“You just have ____. She’s probably at home, cooking my favorite meal while I can’t swipe it away.” Tara sighs. You hear the dressing room’s curtain next to your’s swish open, and your stomach drops even more when you hear Tara’s laughter too close to your space as she shuts the curtain. “Or taking a nap. Maybe reading a book.”

“Didn’t you say she has a mysterious man she’s been sighing over for the past couple of weeks?” You feel Sylus’s mouth quirk up in a smirk from beneath your palm at Simone’s musings and you scowl as you press your hand harder against his face, cursing all those times you dreamed about those same lips while at work. “Maybe she’s getting railed.”

You feel the embarrassment deep in your stomach before you even register what she said, but when your brain processes what she just said - “Oh no, oh no no no this cannot be happening,” you squeal quietly to yourself, chancing a look at the man who’s lips went slack against your hand.

You see Sylus’s eyes widen in realization before taking on a slight sparkle. His lips begin to move against your palm but you press your hand into his face, looking back up at the ceiling and chanting at the universe to do something, anything to get you out of this situation. Hell, you’d even accept a Wanderer just magically spawning in the middle of the dressing room instead of this mess.

“Ew, Simone - not something to be discussing in a dressing room!” Tara fake gags and you almost want to say thank you out loud - but that’s before Tara laughs once again. “But let’s be real, she probably is getting railed right now.”

“And good for her!” The both of them laugh in their respective dressing rooms, and you look down at your feet because you want nothing more than to have the ground swallow you whole.

There’s no way this is happening to you right now.

All of a sudden, you feel your wrist being pulled away and your body being pressed up against the wall of the dressing room. Your eyes widen as you see Sylus in his cocky, confident glory, and you try not to gasp too loudly when his palms rest against your waist. “You’ve been dreaming about me at work, kitten?”

“That’s not-” You try to begin, but you find that you can’t focus on his eyes and his face because you refuse to believe that this is happening to you right now. You have to shift your attention now, because if you don’t you lose your mind at your shared proximity with him right now.

You feel yourself grow flustered as the seconds begin to drag by and you try to look somewhere, anywhere that isn’t his face, but that means looking at his neck - the same neck you’ve been wanting to leave marks on. Your eyes travel past the silver chain resting against his collarbones and it’s only when you see the top of his chest do you realize that he’s shirtless - only in the unbuttoned cotton shirt he was trying on and his low hanging pants.

“Fuck,” you mumble, and you try to hide just how nervous you are by closing your eyes and willing yourself to just get it together.

“I think it’s endearing, ____,” Sylus whispers, and you gasp when you feel his mouth against your ear. His lips just barely brush against your earlobe in a way that has you believing that you’re dreaming, and you shiver when he begins to map a course along your jawline. As his lips run its course down your neck his hands slowly move down from your waist, and you feel your stomach do a dangerous flip when his palms slowly squeeze the flesh of your hips. You can’t help it - you move your hands up to his shoulders and let your head fall against his collarbone so that you can try to disguise just how much he affects you.

“How cute you must be, looking out the window and thinking about little old me,” he teases - just enough to annoy you, but also in a gentle tone that lets you know he more than likes the idea of your thoughts being consumed wholly by him. His hand reaches up and cups your chin, forcing you to look up at his soft eyes and coy smirk. “So much so that your friends know and think that you’re…how did they say it?”

His fingers tense against your chin ever so slightly, and the words tumble out from your lips before you can stop them. “You railing me.”

Sylus’s eyes widen at your candidness, and he huffs out a small laugh as pink begins to dust his cheeks. “Yeah, that.”

There’s a lull in the conversation as the two of you hear Tara and Simone giggle softly, discussing something amongst themselves. That telltale tightness of apprehension begins to grip at you and you move to make some sort of space between you and Sylus, but before you can do so he shifts so that his left arm is braced above your head and his right hand rests on your cheek, thumb gently brushing the skin right below your lips.

“Is that what you want, ____?” He murmurs, this time letting his lips press harder against the skin of your cheek. “Do you want me to press you into your mattress and fuck you until you’re crying into your pillows?”

“Sylus-” You gasp at his sudden crass words, and you feel lightheaded as all of the fear of getting caught turns into molten lust that settles into the pit of your stomach. “Don’t say that so loudly-”

“I’m not, though.” He knows it, and you know it too. “Can you even process what I’ve said over the beating of your heart, ____?”

You still yourself as much as you can, and you register with a start that he’s right - your heart is practically beating out of your chest, the drumming clouding your earlobes. “I-”

“I don’t want to fuck you like that, though.”

Your hands travel from your sides to his shoulders, fingers grazing the wrists of his silvery white hair as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. You finally allow yourself to tilt your head up to look directly into his burning gaze - one that speaks of the desire that he has only for you.

“I want to take my time with you,” Sylus confesses softly, pressing his body against yours. Your fingers tighten on his hair when you feel the beginnings of hardness against your stomach, and you fight every urge in your body screaming to roll your hips against his when you hear a low groan rumble in his chest. “I want it to be gentle and take care of you, like that night. I - fuck, ____, I want to worship every inch of you again.”

His lips are hovering dangerously close to yours, and you know that if you angle your head up at just the right angle - he would lean down and finish the job. And oh, you want him to do it.

You want him to confirm the truth that the both of you know. You want him to make you his.

“Sylus-” you sigh, neediness coloring your tone as you begin to tilt your head up. “I-”

“I know, my angel,” he murmurs softly, lips just far away enough you can feel his lips barely brush against yours. “Is it terrible for me to confess that all of my thoughts were consumed by you while I was gone?”

“No,” you immediately say back, the movement of your lips creating the slightest bit of friction against his smiling mouth. “My friends are right, you know. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you these past few weeks but you…you haven’t left my mind in a long time, Sylus.”

You feel the corners of your lips tilt upwards in a smile that mirrors him, and your heart melts ever so slightly when you see the crinkles on the corners of his eyes - the ones that only appear when he’s truly happy. Your thumb swoops down to trace the skin and he leans into the contact, allowing his nose to brush against yours.

“____,” he whispers softly, beginning to bend down and press his forehead against yours. You tiptoe up, beginning to close the space in between the two of you and he presses his hands into your hips to steady you. “I-”

“-I’m starving!” Tara squeals as you both hear the curtain next to you open.

It’s like a bucket of cold water was thrown at the two of you. You’re both immediately creating space between each other - you rubbing at your cheeks furiously to hide the dazed look you know is on your face while Sylus clears his throat and tries to discreetly adjust the front of his pants.

“Yeah yeah,” Simone grumbles, and your sudden relief almost drowns out your intense need when you hear her curtain open too. You hear their footsteps join together, and you hold your breath as they continue their conversation.

“Can we get noodles now? I’ll pay this time, swear on my life,” Their footsteps travel past the dressing room you and Sylus are in, and you hear Simone make a noise of agreement before their sounds recede into the distance.

You count to ten in your head, gathering as much bravado as you can and schooling your face into as calm and pleasant of one as you can manage before turning around to face him. While you were steeling yourself for whatever Sylus may have thrown at you, you still feel yourself deflate at how quickly he’s composed himself too - although you can still see a particular softness in his gaze as he regards you.

“I take it we’re not getting noodles?” He asks rhetorically, and you can’t help but snort.

“Absolutely not,” you mumble. You look at the pile of clothing in the dressing room, and you point to the black, short-sleeved button down that’s currently on his body. “I like that one, by the way.”

And before he can say anything else, you’re making your way out of the dressing room - lest you do something stupid like kiss him then and there.

Surprisingly enough, you and Sylus bounce back easily from…whatever the fuck happened in that dressing room.

Dinner was a quick affair, with you insisting on pasta from an Italian spot close to the center of the city. Having changed into his casual spring clothing, Sylus drove the two of you to the chosen restaurant. It was clear to you that Sylus was also affected by what happened because his hand hadn’t rested on your thigh like it always did. Instead, his fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel as you looked out on the horizon - craving his contact but knowing that the two of you needed time to think about what was said.

Even during the actual meal, the two of you were silent save for the occasional praise for the pasta or the appetizers. You could feel the tension between the two of you - thick as a knife, but which one of you would make the first move?

You wish you had the courage to reach out and hold his hand.

Even now, as you’re walking in the Linkon City Central Gardens, it’s clear that the two of you are too afraid to reach out and do something. Sylus walks a comfortable distance behind you, taking in the beginnings of blooms that line the paths. Cherry blossom petals drift in the air and you think to yourself that it would be much better with someone walking side by side with you - holding your hand, arm around your shoulder, anything.

That’s it, you think to yourself. Have courage and think of something.

“You know, they sometimes have daturas on display,” you begin.

You hear his strides grow longer until he walks beside you, the beginnings of sunset washing him in a golden hue. “Oh, yeah? Are they hidden in a corner because they’re poisonous?”

There’s a bitter edge in his tone, and you realize the implications of your words. Does he think that you don’t want to display your affection for him to the entire world?

“Not at all,” you reply, and you finally take your chance and stretch your pinky so that it brushes against his ever so slightly. You breathe a slight sigh of relief when his pinky reaches out, looping itself around you and you take it as your sign to continue. “The gardens have education nights, and they have a specific one called MIsunderstood Beauties. Daturas are a big highlight of those nights.”

“And why is that?” Sylus muses.

“Well,” you begin, fighting to keep your breathing even when he finally intertwines your fingers together. “They first go over the risks of them, just for safety. And then they talk about the science and structure of the flower.”

“And then?”

“Then they talk about the myths,” you continue, letting your feet guide the two of you aimlessly. “People fear the things they don’t understand, so they create reasons to cope with that. Yes, the flowers are poisonous but they’re given a bad rep of witchcraft and evil. They’re actually more complex than that, though.”

“Tell me more,” Sylus says, and you look over your shoulder to look at him curiously. Your heart beats just a little bit faster when he looks at you with rapt attention, although you’re not quite sure if it’s because of your impromptu flower lesson or you.

“In another culture, daturas symbolize protection.” Sylus’s fingers tighten at your statement, and you smile to yourself as you continue. “People would display them in front of their houses to ward off evil and invite sweet dreams in. Daturas grew to be a symbol of safe keeping - the most beautiful protector of all things good.”

You let a comforting silence blanket the two of you as you continue to guide him around. You know he isn’t dumb, you know he’s figured out what you’re trying to tell him. 

You just hope that he knows you mean it.

You stumble upon a clearing, and you gasp as you come across one of your favorite flowers. “Sylus!” You squeal, and before you even register what’s happening you're dragging him to look at the field full of sunset colored ranunculus flowers.

“I didn’t realize they were blooming already!” You begin excitedly, taking in the nearest peach colored bloom. “They only bloom for a few weeks during the springtime…”

You don’t even realize it in the throes of your happiness, but Sylus is looking down at you with an unspeakable warmth in his eyes as you continue to ramble on about the flowers - the beginnings of his rare, real smile forming at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sheer joy that is you.

He slowly moves his eyes down your face, carving each detail he’s cherished in his past lifetime into his memory for safekeeping. The slope of your nose, your mouth gasping in awe at the flowers before you, the way the setting sun hits the back of your head and gives the illusion that you’re a real angel - every bit of you is scored onto his heart, because he doesn’t want to forget the details that make you his very reason for existence. 

Not only in this lifetime, but in future lives.

His hand twitches, and he jolts a little when he realizes you still have his fingers wound around his own. He looks down at your intertwined digits and every instinct is screaming at him to pull you closer, wrap his arms around you and never let you go, to kiss you, dammit - anything at all. He should do something to cement this moment, mark it as something that only exists between the two of you-

-but he can’t bring himself to do so.

Sylus knows in his heart of hearts you feel the way that he feels - that you care for him in a way that he doesn’t deserve. He knows he’ll move heaven and earth to give you anything you would ever want, make sure you never felt any sort of pain or sadness. He wants to protect you because you are the good in his life - but he’s scared to let you know that.

He doesn’t deserve this purity - your overwhelming love and light.

Realizing that Sylus has gone still, you stop your ramblings about the flowers and look up at him with a curious expression. “What is it?”

You feel his fingers tense slightly between your own as you take in the way he swallows nervously, giving him the time to formulate his response. You watch as he battles with the swirling thoughts in his mind, and you feel your heart sink slightly at the way he schools his face into his usual cool demeanor - although you're slightly placated by the way his fingers squeeze reassuringly.

“It’s nothing, ____.” He murmurs. “Let’s get you home.”

The drive home is…uneventful.

In a way, you’re almost thankful for it - thankful that you even have this peaceful time with Sylus after the time he’s spent away from you. The silence that filled his car wasn’t uncomfortable at all - it’s pleasant, the two of you simply soaking in the last inky strands of purple that streak the horizon before the dark indigo of night spread itself over the entirety of the sky. His hand resting on your thigh never strays any higher and your palm easily finds its way on top of his, gently massaging his knuckles while wishing that you were just a little bit braver.

For what? You’re not entirely sure.

Maybe to say something to him when he was looking at you while the two of you were at the Linkon City Central Gardens. His eyes were indescribably soft, and his mouth was slightly slack before it morphed itself into a real smile. It wasn’t any of his usual smirks or half grins -your favorite one that overtakes his entire face. 

A smile that mirrors how you feel about him.

He had pulled away from you then, but maybe you can try to find it in you to pull him back in. Even just to tell him how you truly feel - how you feel that he’s the datura that protects you and brings you peace in your sleep when he’s close. Maybe kiss him on his cheek.

Yes, maybe you’ll do that tonight.

You don’t realize your self-imposed stupor until you feel the car slowly roll to a stop, Sylus cutting the engine and squeezing your thigh gently. “We’re at your’s now, kitten.”

You can’t help the way your heart sinks in your chest, but you put on a brave smile as you squeeze his hand in response. “Will you walk me up to mine?”

You know you don’t even have to ask, but he humors you by giving you a wink and pushing himself out of the car. You wait patiently for him to walk around the front and open the passenger door, and you accept his waiting hand.

“Make sure to drink plenty of water,” he says softly as the two of you step into the elevator. You press the button that leads to your floor, and you allow yourself to lean your head against his shoulder. Sylus responds by pressing his temple against your own, and you can’t help but smile at the sudden warmth.

“You need to take care of yourself too,” you reply once you hear the telltale ding! of the elevator stopping. You both walk towards your door, and you swiftly type in your apartment’s code before opening the door and standing at the threshold.

“Well…” Your voice drifts off as you try and think of a way to extend your time with him - you don't want this to end at all.

Sylus quirks an eyebrow at you, a teasing smirk beginning to form on his face as he crosses his arms. “Well, kitten?”

The silence stretches as you try and think of something to do. The ball is very well in your court and you don’t want to toss away this opportunity - you need to think of something and fast.

Fuck it, you finally think to yourself before you tiptoe up to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

You watch with slight mirth as his face flushes an endearing pink, his fingers reaching up to touch the skin your lips graced. You flash a quick smile at him, and you murmur a soft goodnight before turning to enter your apartment-

-only to be turned back around by a strong hand, and a warm mouth finally pressing against your own.

Your eyes instantly flutter shut, arms reaching up to wrap around Sylus’s broad shoulders. Sylus’s hands fumble blindly behind you, pushing the door open and allowing him the space to guide you into your apartment. He kicks the door shut behind him, and it’s only a quick moment before his hands travel to your thighs and picks you up easily, wrapping you in his embrace.

“Sylus-” you pull away and barely gasp his name before he groans, leaning back down to press kisses all over your face. You giggle at the feeling and he smiles down at you before recapturing your lips.

The kisses are slow, filled with a sense of longing that the two of you felt during your long weeks apart. You can feel Sylus’s intent to stay - to hold you for as long as he can, to lavish you in the attention you so crave from him.

And you have no intention of stopping him.

Soon enough, you enter your bedroom and he gently pushes you down onto the bed, allowing for him to press his entire body weight onto your body as you slowly sink into the cushy material. It feels like you’re floating in the best way possible - you’re surrounded by the spicy, almost wine-like scent that lingers on his clothes that mixes in with something that makes Sylus Sylus.

It’s addicting. You never want it, him, to go away.

You pull away just a little bit to take in the flush on his cheeks and you smile when you do so, gently pushing his hair away from his forehead and letting yourself play with the slightly sweaty strands. “You’re so handsome.”

He scoffs slightly, grabbing your wrist so that he can bring his mouth to your hand. You shiver when he presses gentle kisses onto the pads of your fingers, his actions reverent and filling your stomach with that same lazy, content feeling you experienced this morning when you woke up.

“And you’re the most ethereal person I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing,” he mumbles back, kissing your mouth lazily. He pulls away and props himself up, letting his hands push the fabric of your cardigan and tank top up over your stomach. “I want these off, angel.”

You comply with his soft command, letting him drag the layers over your head and tossing them to some corner of your room. Your fingers dance along the buttons of the shirt you brought him and he lets you push the offending garment off of his shoulders before pressing himself against your body - but this time, he kisses the skin of your jaw and slowly moves down.

You shiver when his lips run along the column of your neck and you arch your back, subtly giving him a hint. He catches your meaning, deftly unclasping your bra and helping you remove the garment so that he can pay attention to all of you.

“Sylus,” you moan softly, and your head falls back when his lips wrap around one of your nipples. You whimper when he flicks his tongue against the sensitive skin, his left hand reaching up to tease the other bud. His ministrations leave you writhing on your bed, and you all but gasp out, “More, please.”

“Good girl,” he praises, and he continues to move his lips down your stomach. His fingers make quick work of the button holding your jeans closed and pulls the stiff fabric off in one movement, leaving you exposed to the cold air of your bedroom and his hungry stare.

You watch, body trembling as his eyes slightly narrow and his lips slightly open in awe. When you first spent the night with him, he had asked you to never be shy when with him - so you keep these thoughts in mind as you slowly spread your legs open.

“I missed you a lot,” you confess shyly, although your movements are anything but demure. “What are you going to do about it?”

In a blink of an eye you’re flat on the bed with your legs high in the air, Sylus slowly kneeling in front of you. His breathing is labored, eyes hooded as he looks up at you. You gasp when his hands land on your thighs, placing them on his shoulders and effectively keeping you spread open for him - exposing yourself for his awaiting mouth.

“Little vixen,” he murmurs. His warm breath washes over your most sensitive spots and you shiver, feeling yourself clench in anticipation. Your eyes slip shut when you feel a single finger slide up the front of the panties you’re wearing, and his laughter has your stomach doing a delicious turn - right on the precipice of getting exactly what you want.

“I should make you wait,” Sylus muses darkly.

“Please don’t,” you whimper, voice cutting off in a high pitched whine when his finger rubs a slow circle right on top of your clit. The sudden stimulation has your back arching, core fluttering dangerously close to his devilish lips. Sylus presses a firm hand on your lower stomach, though, stopping all movement and letting you stew in your desperation.

“Please,” you beg, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. “Please, it’s been too long and we didn’t get to go together. I missed you, I need you, please don’t make me wait.”

“You’re right, we’ve waited long enough,” he replies. His fingers push the soaked piece of fabric away from your sticky folds, and you jolt when you feel the sudden air on your sensitive pussy. Sylus pinches your thigh and you look down just in time to see him give you a quick wink before he presses his lips against you.

“Fuck, Sylus-” Your voice is a broken moan, and your hands immediately find themselves in his silky hair in a bid to pull him closer. Sylus hums in pleasure and the tiny vibrations spread throughout your body, bathing you in an electric pleasure that has your head spinning.

Sylus’s tongue is slow, gently flicking the tip up and down the length of your entire pussy so that he can collect your juices and savor what he missed over your weeks apart. His movements slowly build up a pleasurable knot in your stomach that you feel will unravel at any moment - but Sylus is the one that gets to decide when that is, leaving you entirely at his mercy.

“Please,” you gasp. Tears prick on the corners of your eyes as you tug on his hair imploringly, making his lips disconnect from your pussy for just one moment - a moment that feels like an eternity in your lust-affected state. “Sy- Sylus, please make me cum.”

His eyes meet yours, and you feel yourself clench at the dazed look in his eyes. Sylus rarely ever lets things get the best of him, you know that to be pure fact. But in this moment, with how vulnerable and hazy he looks just from lightly pleasuring you - it makes you feel incredible.

He’s quick to recover, though the hazy look in his eyes never fully diminishes. His hands tighten on your thighs and he regards you once more. “You know the signal, right?”

You tap your thumb on his forehead twice, and he gives you a smile and a quick kiss on your knee. The subtle touches have you melting for him in more ways than you could ever fathom, the sweet movements making your heart skip a beat as he slowly wrecks you from the inside out.

His mouth is back on your pussy with a flash, lips wrapping around your clit so that his tongue can lightly flick at the sensitive bud. Your head falls back onto the mattress and your chest heaves, the sudden onslaught of sensations bathing your body in an inescapable pleasure that has the knot in your stomach unravelling. “Sylus-” you begin, but he stops you.

“Cum for me, angel,” he murmurs, just audible enough for you to hear before sucking on your clit once more.

The knot in your stomach snaps at his soft command and you can barely gasp as your orgasm washes over your entire body, making your toes curl and thighs shake against his head. You barely register the moans you’re making - would anyone file a noise complaint tomorrow? You don’t really care, not when Sylus is igniting your body with the pleasure he laves over your body with just his mouth.

Your orgasm slowly subsides, and you whine at the sensitivity of your pussy as Sylus continues to suck against your hole, groaning at the taste of you against his tongue. Your hips buck so that you can try and move away from his mouth, but his hand reaches down to stop you once more. 

“You know the signal, angel.” It’s a reminder, a dangerous one when you feel his fingers slowly beginning to sink into your needy hole. “I’ll stop when you want, but you have to tell me properly.”

Even with his rough tone, he pulls away just the slightest bit - waiting for you to call the shots. His care makes your heart soar, and you shake your head the tiniest bit. He nods once more, returning to your pussy with the same amount of vigor as before, but this time, his fingers join the fray.

You whine at the feeling of his ring finger entering your cunt, the stretch making you moan. While he was gone, you had tried to fill the gaps in yourself but it never felt good as when he did it - and so you welcome the burn, especially when his middle finger joins his first finger, slowly beginning to thrust in and out.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he says in a whisper. “I missed your beautiful body, this pretty pussy…”

His voice tapers off as his fingers begin to speed up, and your voice leaves you in a pretty gasp. “The way you tighten around me as you moan, wishing it was my cock.”

His fingertips graze a certain spot in you, and you cry out. Even though you’re sensitive out of your mind, Sylus’s ministrations have you back on the teetering on the edge, ready to fall off-

-and he grants you that, letting his fingers press against your g-spot and triggering the end you so desire.

Your body seizes up and you nearly scream at the sensation, your orgasm leaving you breathless and covering your body in a light sheen of sweat. Your fingers flex against Sylus’s head - undecided on whether to pull him closer or push him away because you’re overstimulated beyond belief but you want him to continue ruining you in the way you’ve craved.

Sylus decides for the both of you, and he hastens his movements to help you ride out your orgasm. He pulls his fingers out of your fluttering hole and places his hand back on your thighs, pulling you as close as he can so that he can drown in you. You cry out when you feel his tongue lash at your clit once, twice, three times before a weaker climax washes over your body and leaves you limp on your bed.

You barely register Sylus pulling away, the drunk look on his eyes warring with the concerned frown that graces his lips. “Kitten, are you okay?” His fingers brush against your forehead, and you shiver when his thumb moves to brush the line of your jaw before pressing against your swollen lips.

“You. I need you, please.”

It’s a breathy plea, one that’s full of yearning and a signal that let’s Sylus know you’re okay. You know he would stop with just one word from you, but you have no intention of stopping until you see him unravel in the same way he made you fall apart.

You see Sylus’s hesitation, but before he can say anything you wrap your legs around his thighs to pull him closer to you, allowing for his hard cock to brush against your sensitive pussy. You both moan at the contact, and you let yourself wantonly grind your hips against the fly of his pants so that he knows just how much you want him.

“Pretty angel,” he murmurs, his fingers massaging the skin of your hips as he guides your rhythm. “You’re glowing as you make a mess of yourself on my pants, you know that? You’re so beautiful right now.”

“I just want you,” you moan back. Your hands land on top of his and you intertwine his fingers in between yours, giving him a squeeze. “I want you to feel good, too.”

“I already feel incredible, ____.” Sylus lets himself fall on top of you, shifting his weight so that his hips press against your pussy just a little bit harder. He leans down to brush a chaste kiss over your mouth and you tilt your head up, chasing the lips that you so deeply crave. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, my angel.”

“I’m more than okay,” comes your immediate response. Your hands travel down his shoulders, past defined pecs and the center of his chest. Your fingers brush the sensitive area and he groans, letting his head flop onto your shoulder. You take his heavy breaths as encouragement, tracing his abs before finally letting your fingers graze against the waistband of his pants.

“I want you in me,” you say softly, equal parts desire and honesty coloring your voice. “I missed you, Sylus. I don’t want you to leave for a long time - I want you to stay with me.”

Sylus’s eyes soften at your words, and he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. You feel his hands cover your own, and he helps you with unbuttoning his pants before he pushes the unnecessary fabric down his legs, kicking them aside.

“You already have all of me.” It’s a statement he seals with a kiss to your lips before he pulls at the flimsy lace of your panties. You force your hips up and he drags the scrap of fabric down your legs, barely casting it a glance before he tosses them over his shoulder. He adjusts your body so that your heads rest on your pillows and you’re settled comfortably before the bed, and he makes his way on top of you so that he hovers above you.

Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his swollen tip catch against your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he presses himself flush against your pussy, letting himself grind messily against your cunt. “All of this for me,” he muses in between short pants. “My kitten, my angel, my ____. I’m all yours, even if you decide that you don’t want me anymore.”

“I’ll always want you,” you reply, matching your hips with his rhythm. You place your palms against his cheeks, directing his gaze so that he’s looking directly at you and the sincerity in your expression. “I’ll always find you, and you’ll always be by my side.”

A beat passes, and your heart clenches when you see an indescribable emotion pass over Sylus’s face - one full of intense yearning and a tinge of pain that lets you know he was afraid of you going against your promises in the past. His face smooths out and he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss as he begins to push himself into you.

Even with your climaxes before and how wet you currently are, it’s still a tight fit. The stretch makes you gasp against his mouth, fingernails digging into his shoulders as you try to hold on so that you don’t fall apart from just his cock barely entering you. Sylus takes his time though, massaging your hips and letting his lips wander all of your face as you relax and let him in further and further - until he’s all the way in and you’re full of him.

“Sylus-” you moan, head falling back. His head rests against your neck and he latches his mouth against your sensitive pulse point, sucking on the skin until he leaves a noticeable mark. Your walls clench at his action and you both moan at how your walls squeeze him tightly, trying to pull him in further and further.

“I forgot how fucking tight you get,” he seethes. He leans down and kisses you once again, borderline desperate from how worked up he was seeing you fall apart multiple times and now - deep inside the woman he’s so deeply in love with. “You truly never want me to leave, do you?”

“No,” you cry out. Sylus begins to move his hips - slow, rolling movements that consistently hit your sweet spot and bring you closer and closer towards your shattering point. Your ankles cross against the small of his back, keeping him in place as you begin to lose yourself in the feeling of him ruining you. “Stay with me, please.”

“I don’t intend to ever leave you, my angel,” Sylus grunts out. One of his hands moves to rest on your mound so that his fingers have easy access to your clit. His fingers strum along the sensitive bud as he punctuates his statement with a thrust of his hips, leaving you a moaning mess on his cock. “I don’t intend for the most beautiful person the universe has given me to slip in between my fingers.”

His words have your stomach tightening, and you pull him down so that you can kiss him. Unlike the last slow and languid kisses of before, this one is filled with desperation and need - letting the both of you know that you’re both reaching your respective ends.

“Please,” you whisper, neediness coloring your voice. “I want you to cum in me.”

“Fuck, ____-” he groans, voice cutting short when he hits your g-spot - making you moan and tighten impossibly more around his cock. “Are you sure, angel?”

“Please,” you beg. Your stomach tightens once more, almost about to fall towards your climax. “Cum in me, Sylus.”

“Oh, shit-” With his words he falls apart, his lips falling onto yours with a messy kiss as he cums in your pussy. The sensation triggers your final end and you fall after him, tremors wracking your body as your back arches. So lost in your pleasure, you can’t register the words that Sylus groans reverently above you, but you don’t care in the slightest.

It feels like you’re glowing from the inside out - both from the overwhelming pleasure he’s currently giving you and the intense love that you feel for him in your chest.

Sylus leans down and presses his lips against your own in an open-mouthed kiss. His kiss is messy and hot, tongues dancing together as he thrusts into you with a stilted rhythm. Even in his end, he’s still making sure you feel incredible, and your heart warms at that obvious motive.

Sylus groans after he finishes his spend, letting himself fall on top of you. The sudden weight knocks what little wind out of your body, and you laugh as you gasp for air. “Sylus!”

“Mmm, shush kitten,” he mumbles, nuzzling his nose into your neck and breathing in deeply. “I feel like my soul left my body.”

His statement draws another giggle from your chest, and you feel his smile in the kiss that he leaves on the mark on your neck. Your arms wrap around his neck and your fingers brush the sweaty strands that stick to his forehead, and you feel the almost purr that rumbles his chest at your fingernails slightly scratching his head.

“I meant what I said.” It’s a sudden serious statement that has Sylus looking up at you, although you continue to stroke his hair. “I want you to stay with me.”

His eyes soften, and he smiles at you with your most favorite smile. “And I mean it too, ____. I don’t intend to leave you in this lifetime.”

Sylus shifts upwards, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close until your breasts are pressed against his chest. His hand catches your wrist gently and he moves your hand down so that it rests on his left pec - right on top of his steadily beating heart.

“I may be a wanted criminal by the Hunter’s Association, and I may not be able to fully express my…affection for you,” he says steadily, although you catch his hesitation right before he says “affection.” He clears his throat though, and lets his nose brush against your nose. “But you, ____, are scored on my heart.” 

He presses your hand against his heart, and you feel your eyes water at the devotion in his eyes. “I swear to always be there for you.. We may not be able to ever go on big public dates, but I swear to you, I will be beside you as an equal if you’ll let me. And I…I will always protect you.”

His words render you speechless, eyes watering at his honest declaration. He may not have said it out loud, but you both know that deep down, he loves you.

And you love him.

More than life itself.

“When this world is ours, I’ll show you off and scream that you’re mine from the rooftops.” Your voice is steady with conviction, and you grin when he laughs at you. “But for now…”

Your hips roll against his once more, and you both groan when you feel his cock begin to harden against you once more.

“Why don’t we make up for lost time?”

a/n: well ,,, hello there :D i hope you enjoyed <3

[brittle-doughie]

Revelation (Cookie Kingdom)

[Main Story]

You felt comfortable enough to leave Black Forest Cookie in the infirmary, what you weren’t comfortable about was that black mask Cookie escaping. You were hoping to get answers on what they were doing out here, but that would have to be for another time.

These pains were starting to come back to you.

Shadow Milk Cookie’s absence as well as the wedding situation had eased your mind all throughout, but you still had two other Beasts in your head and they did not let up on your torment.

“He may be gone, but do not forget, little worm. We are still lingering in your head and I will still look forward to the day that you SQUIRM!”

“A pity that he allows such meaningless things to turmoil him so much…however, your burden will still remain, Cookie…and I’ll always be here…ready to free you from it if you simply…accept me…”

Familiar pains, but all you needed was that incense to tide you over.

You reach your chambers and gently open the door…to a normal room as you head in. You head to your drawer and open to find your incense missing.

Odd, you checked the other drawers. Empty too.

It was there that you noticed that your therapist reports from Chamomile Cookie are missing too…

Your door suddenly closes as you turn your back to see three faces looking back at you.

Uh oh.

“Was there something you wanted to tell us, Y/N Cookie?”

You were used to the three calling you your name, but hearing it like that..it made you steadfast.

“We asked if you were doing alright and you decided to hide THIS from us?”

Salsa Cookie pulled out the therapist notes as she waved them in the air.

You tried to explain. It wasn’t out of any sort of doubt with them, you sweared! You just didn’t want to get them wrapped up in something that was bigger than what it seemed.

“We’re just worried, dearest. I could never think that you did this to hurt us. I believe in you that you wanted to protect us…”

“But you have to really tell us what is going on here. These are not a coincidence that they just showed up after you leave for the Ancient Heroes recently.”

“We are not just your subjects, Y/N Cookie. We are friends. Crowned Cupcake, not so much, but I don’t see a wedding happening anytime soon.”

“HEY!”

You..didn’t know what to say. You expected them to fully blow up at you for keeping what you know from them, so seeing them being relatively calm about this..it was odd to you.

Salsa was right, though. If you had to come clean, it would be today.

So you did.

You told them everything.

From the moment you left with Pure Vanilla for your first trip to Beast-Yeast to your last visit when you had to leave hastily a few months ago.

Dumpling Cookie was visibly taken aback, Crowned Cupcake was horrified, so was Salsa Cookie but her shock was quickly turned to anger as she clenched her fists.

“I knew it, this was THEIR doing.”

“Please, don’t blame the Ancients for this. It’s not their fault the Beasts had awoken recently.”

“But the facts cannot be denied that them bringing you along to face these Beast Cookies is the cause for your affliction.”

“My darling has Beasts in their head?!”

“Only two of them.”

“So long as you have his mark, Shadow Milk Cookie can return at anytime, possibly angrier than ever before.”

“We have to find a solution to this as well as placing a no entry order for all of the Ancient Heroes.”

“Wait no, don’t do that!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, ‘kay? There’s no need for that.”

“They CAUSED this to them! Y/N Cookie befriended them and THIS is what they get for it?!”

“I’ll throw them all in the dungeon if I have to! My darling is suffering and I can’t allow it!”

“I know, I’m upset about this too, but we can’t just make reckless decisions like this. It will only make matters worse.”

“I’ll decide how we move forward with this! Settle down!”

“And just let them walk all over us to let them take you to swan knows where and come back with ANOTHER Beast Cookie in your head?!”

Salsa Cookie’s pepper ponytail starts to slowly fire up as she allows her anger to boil.

“Salsa!”

“Why would they do this to you?!”

“I said SETTLE DOWN!”

You stomped your foot against the ground with enough force to slightly crack it, shocking everyone as they took a step back. You slowly realize what you’ve done as you look art the floor.

“Was that…?”

“Yes. Another effect to these marks besides having the Beasts in my head is me having a bit of their power too. That was Burning Spice Cookie just now. I don’t know…how much more of him and the other Beasts are a part of me now…”

“Right now, we need to find a way to remove those marks. Fighting among ourselves isn’t going to do anything. We will figure out something.”

Dumpling turns to Salsa.

“And you, Salsa. You need to get it together now.”

“You have no idea what happened in Chili Savilla. NONE!”

“This isn’t the way! It will only cause more headaches than it’s worth. We will figure out a way, but we do it as a team.”

Salsa Cookie stared down Dumpling Cookie, until she sighs as her pepper ponytail cools down.

“Fine, but this isn’t over.”

Salsa Cookie heads for you. You were about to question her when she placed a hand on your shoulder, her expression softening.

“If anything happens, let me know. I’ll always come running…”

“I know…thank you, Salsa…”

“As with me.”

“And me, darling…”

“Thank you. All of you…”

The four of you join in a group hug.

You felt a weight lifted off your chest…

“Adorable. Tell me, Y/N Cookie. How would you feel if they were crushed to dust before you?”

“Or faded away into nothingness. Would you feel…empty?”

But not enough…

[lady-ashfade]

Hi, I wanted to request something platonic with Percy, with him meeting his older half-sister after he finds out he's the son of Poseidon.

Sorry for my English, I'm using the translator to write, and sorry if you don't understand my request

Pictures On The Wall

Percy jackson x older!sister (platonic)

-£ this was the first thing that came to mind and it’s such a cute idea! thank you.

-£ words: 700

-£ warnings: short, nervous percy, cool reader, sassy and kinda grunge reader, siblings bonding, fluff.

the wall across from his bed was covered with many things. pictures of people he didn’t know along with a bed half made and clothes piled up. “that’s y/n’s” a name he never heard but yet was family. his half sister was somewhere on a quest and didn’t know that he was snooping round her things.

he looked at the pictures all the time, liking the smile you had. he knew that smile, a distinct memory in his mind but you wore it with pride. you looked so cool and by all the stories he heard you were one of the most awesome person at camp.

every cabin knew you, it was like he needed to fill some sort of shoe now that you walked in but he didn’t know the first thing.

“percy,” grover peaked into the cabin and looked around for his best friend, when he found him he looked nervous. “I think you should come.” percy jumped up at the sound of his voice that sounded like something horrible had happened.

percy walked along his friend while his heart raced, “what happened?” had another monster attacked the camp, what could have happened that he had to come.

“she’s back.” Grover muttered while sighing, “And we thought you should meet her.” oh,- oh gods. you were back so soon? he didn’t have a clue on what he would say or do. would you like him, would you hate him and somehow kick him out of the cabin? he’s never had a sibling before.

“she’s getting patched up and I’ll warn you,” Grover patted his shoulder with a kind smile, ���she’s unpredictable at times.” Yeah, that makes me feel much better Percy thought.

as soon as the walked into the infirmary all they could hear was yelling and arguing making the young boys look at each other. they walked to the door and saw the girl on the bed glare at the other around her age.

he knew you. the picture he looked at every day you seemed to be exactly like that, but you didn’t look happy like all of them. the shirt you wore had rips in it and a bloody bandage wrapped around your arm. the redhead girl in front of you held a spoon up to your mouth but you kept fighter her off.

“I’m fine! It’s just a few scratches, I’m not a child!” it was ironic that you looked like a bratty child that wanted to stomp their feet. your lips pouted slightly. percy didn’t know what to think at the scene.

“take it. you’re just keeping yourself from leaving, so do it so I can leave!” the other girl seemed to knock some sense into you as you huffed and took the spoon in your mouth. if looks could kill then she would be on the ground by now, you looked so angry.

humming the redhead walked out of the door and looked at the boys before rolling her eyes and kept going down the hallway. you didn’t seemed to notice them as you started to take off the dirty bandages.

Grover was the first to speak, “excuse me,” you looked at him quickly but your eyes were now soft and no longer sharp. “Grover, come in!” you invited him over but your eyes soon fell on the boy next to him. and immediately the connection between the two of you went off in your head.

“you must be percy?”

he shifted closer and awkwardly not knowing want to do, “yeah. how do you know?”

“I received letters telling me of the idiot brother I seemed to have,” you chuckle and throw the dirty cloths in your hands on the bed. The cut was gone but dry blood still stayed on your skin, “you have dads eyes.” You pointed to your own.

“really?” he asked quietly as you hopped on the floor and stretched. “Oh yeah, less disappointment in them but I’ll give it time.”

you yawned and picked up the black jacket and your backpack, “I’m starving,” you stood between the two of them and then swung your arms around the two of them.

“Now, tell me what you did to Clarisse!” You smirk at the brother you just met, “my favorite sibling already.”

[seleneprince]

Thanks you for answering!

NOW i'm more curious about Dick and N!D . You say that he's one shz hates the most,why? Is this because of the whole incident with Damian or is it because something else?

And i 'm really expecting the moment when everybody will finally know that N!D hate them so much (or is distant wirh a lot of them). Who will be the most hurt/angry about that? I think that will be a hard blow for Dick because it seems to me that Lucia try to be civilised with him and as he didn't pay too much attention to her ,did he think they on good terms ? How will he react with her if he know?

Sorry if there are too much question but i really love this concept/wip(?) And i'm eager to see your other ideas or blurb for this😊!

Oh boy, i'm so glad you asked that..👀😈

She feels this way with Dick for many small reasons, but the main one absolutely revolves from the murder attempt from Damian. Because Dick, although not maliciously, he handled it terribly. And I mean, terribly.

Before that, N! Daughter admired Dick, even. He was the main reason she took gymnastic classes and tried so hard on them. To impress him. To bond with him. Everyone went on and on about how he was the golden boy, such a good big brother, and she saw it too. She just wished he paid her the same amount of attention and care he had for the others..

But the thing is, Dick doesn't know how to bond with normal people. He can handle Jason, Tim, Damian and everyone else because, despite all their differences, they're the same: Soldiers. Vigilantes. All of them at some point trained and fought under Batman's shadow (some still do). They share similar stories of wounds, certain missions and the whole "risking their lives everyday at night to fight crime". That's the kind of trauma-bonding that this whole mess of a family has been built upon...and for someone who hasn't been through the same stuff as them, who doesn't understand their mission or has wore the mantles, well, Dick is clueless on how to approach them. And they might be unconsciously pushed aside because none of them know how to handle normal people. How could they, when they themselves haven't been normal in their whole lives? When they people they usually hang out with and interact are just like them?

In Dick's eyes, N! Daughter has the privilege of a safe, comfortable life, away from the danger and violence of theirs. She doesn't know the worst of it. And it's fine. But Damian, little terror, he hasn't had the same luxury. Sure, he grew up in a palace with servants, but he was also forced to train from the moment he could walk and bleed for his grandfather's approval. He was never allowed to be a child. Constantly bleeding, suffering and enduring pain to be molded into the perfect little assassin his family wanted him to be. Dick feels sorry for him, and we know he becomes very fond of Damian and sort of his guardian.

Which makes him prioritise the boy's needs and emphatise with him a lot, expecting people to do the same given his traumatic past...even if it comes out at the worst moment.

After the Damian tried to kill her and left that scar, when she was recovering from the still fresh wound, holding a bloodied bandage over her neck, Dick visited her at her room. She wasecstasic, so happy to have her big brother that she admired back then check on her. He sat beside her and told her the this:

"(Name), look, what Damian did was a terrible mistake. He didn't meant to, but he’s had a very difficult life with some awful people. It's not really his fault. I promise you that he won't do it again. Just please, forgive him."

As he spoke, a ringing began to grow and grow in her ears, until she could no longer hear him. Her mind going over and over what he said. She just nodded silently, the pain of the wound keeping her from talking (but also because she didn't trust herself to talk without insulting and cursing him) She didn't even feel when he retracted his hand from her shoulder as soon as she nodded. "Thank you (Name), knew you would understand. He's not really a bad kid, you'll see. He just needs some love and proper guidance to change his ways. We'll talk again when you're better, okay?" He said, moving away from her, obviously distracted. She didn't bother nodding again. She already knew he wouldn't come back.

That's what cemented her disgust for him. Not only the fact he spent the following days spending time with Damian (who by the way, never apologised or shower remorse for what he did), but how he just stood there and told a girl to her damn eyes who had just suffered a murder attempt in her sleep that she had to "be understanding" and basically be the "bigger person" with her attacker. With the blood still in her bandage.

That conversation didn’t just hurt, it broke something inside her. She realized then that no one in the family would choose her, that she only had her mom and the twins. And, in her mind, Dick wasn’t just complicit; he's a symbol of everything wrong with their dynamic.

The first time she tells this story is to Duke, when he gathers courage to ask her why she can't stand Dick, why she always tenses when he talks to her and avoids looking at him, despite being apparently the reliable, loving big brother of all. Needless to say, he's shocked…and angry on her behalf.

"I was holding my neck together with a damn bandage, and instead of asking me how I was feeling, instead of holding Damian accountable, he asked me to understand him."

In her mind, it sounded like:

"You’re the sacrifice. You’re the one who has to be stronger. You’re the one who has to forgive and move on. Because he’s more important"

And best part? Dick has no idea how deeply he hurt her. He thinks of that moment as a difficult conversation where he tried to make peace between his siblings, to what was best for everyone because Damian was still fresh out of the League's influence and he didn't know better. He doesn’t realize that it was the moment she gave up on him, and maybe the whole family.

He's used to be everyone's reliable big brother, the sunshine boy, so you can guess his surprise when he realises his sister avoids being in the same room as him and never smiles around him. When the little girl he remembers always lighted up when he spoke to her and went out of her way to get his attention...what happened? Where did that adorable little girl go? Can he get her back?

[palajae]

eastside.

PAIRING... agent!riki x agent!reader | GENRE... partners! au, romance, angst, mentions of violent, blood, guns, death implications | WC... 1k | “i’m not doing to die, you idiot.”

it’s pretty simple, really. 

you and your partner were sent out on an undercover mission—as a couple on vacation. you thought that last bit was unnecessary, but for some reason your partner insisted on the cover story. it made it all the more believable. 

whatever, you were used to it. after all, working together for four years made your teamwork and bond the best of the best. it wasn’t everyday that you were assigned to a s-class mission. that is, until your cover was blown. 

luckily, everyone had been evacuated before the resort had gone under fire, leaving you two to deal with the remaining mess.

“when’s backup coming?”

“it’s gonna take at least thirty minutes. we’re not exactly in the most accessible of locations.”  his voice sounds rather exasperated through the earpiece. 

everything seemed clear, it was just up to you two to get out of the place. you duck down, avoiding as much crashing and falling debris as possible. you needed to get to him. stealthily, you’re able to make it to the exit, peeking around the corner to spot your partner. 

right as you’re about to run over, you feel the hairs on your arm rise. quickly, you scan the area, only to spot a flash of movement from above. there was still one straggler remaining. you curse when you notice the gun in his hands.

you were just out of his view, but your partner was in his plain sight. and he was completely oblivious, you knew he looking around for you like always. 

“ki, i need you to fall back.” you try your best to keep your voice steady and calm, although the slight quiver at the end of your words gives you away. 

“what?” he stops in his tracks, glancing around in confusion. 

“do it!” you beg. he falters, having never heard such desperation in your voice. 

“you trust me.” 

it wasn’t a question, but a statement. everything you needed to say, everything he needed to hear, was conveyed in those three words. 

you inhale, rushing into the open area and aiming your gun at the guy. he spots you as soon as ni-ki begins to retreat. 

please, you beg. 

for what exactly, you’re not sure. 

as soon as the shot goes off, ni-ki spots you and rushes to your side. heart pounding, he scans the area. since when was there another guy left? either way, the man is effectively taken out. 

“fifteen more minutes, guys.”

ni-ki could care less. he brushes a few stray hairs off your clean face. 

“y/n, you-“

why are your eyes closed? 

his blood runs cold when he pulls his hands back.

all he sees is red. 

“o-oh god y/n? listen, you’re fine. right? you’re okay.”

ni-ki tightens his hold around your limp body, eyes never leaving the sight of the red continually blooming from your stomach. he keeps pressure on the wound, doing his best not to freak out even more, but when he doesn’t receive any sort of response or reaction, his mouth dries. 

he calls out your name again and again, placing a hand on your face and shaking slightly as if that would immediately wake you up. 

"no, please! you just…you can’t leave me like this-“ his voice cracks. 

your eyes fly open in annoyance. “ni-ki! will you just shut up for a minute? i’m not going to die, you idiot.”

you sigh. you can feel it. 

he’s trembling. even worse, it’s the first time you’ve seen unshed tears in his eyes. 

you place your hand over his on your cheek, squeezing slightly as if to comfort him. that action is enough for you to allow your eyes to flutter shut. 

you felt really, really exhausted. so much to the point where everything seems to fade away, the sound of your partner’s panicked cries and the throbbing pain coming off in waves from your side.  

you put in countless years and years of hard work with no rest or relaxation—all the blood, sweat, and tears—just to get to this point. 

maybe, just for a brief second, you could rest. 

a/n ▸ so like… sorry? hope you enjoy this gift tho lovelies <3

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