#i think i did the hand wrong but i can’t be bothered to fix it

[snoozyjoosi]

ngl the magic carpet is kinda underrated (both in twst and in aladdin)

[arieslost]

quiet | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar is quiet in the ways he loves you.

word count: 1,620

warnings: disgusting levels of fluff

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

– the sidewalk rule

You don’t even have to explain this to Oscar. In fact, he’s done it every single time the two of you walk together. You really don’t even notice until you see something on TikTok about it and think it would be fun to pay attention and see if he did it or not without you saying anything.

“Wanna go for a walk?” You ask him casually, and he nods, reaching for his sneakers.

Exercise tends to be the bane of your existence, a la Yuki Tsunoda, but you love to walk, and Oscar loves to walk with you. So whenever you ask him to go for a walk, no matter what he’s doing or how he’s feeling, he’ll always drop everything to go with you.

He holds the door open for you to go out first. “What kind of walk are you thinking, babe?”

“Mm, probably a longer one. It’s pretty nice out today.” You say, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. It feels so nice after being cooped up inside working for most of the day.

Lacing your fingers with his, you purposely place yourself on the outside of the sidewalk, but you don’t make it more than fifteen feet before Oscar stops both of you so abruptly that you nearly fall backwards.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask your boyfriend, who is frowning.

“This is not right,” he mumbles, gently grabbing you by your shoulders and maneuvering you to the inside of the sidewalk. “You walk there. I walk here.”

“Why?” You feign innocence.

“I protect you,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I’m always on the outside to protect you.”

He says it with such conviction that you don’t bother telling him that you did it on purpose because you saw a TikTok. Instead, you press a kiss to his cheek, take his hand again, and go on your way on the proper side of the sidewalk.

– fixing your clothes

Sometimes, you think that Oscar is more attentive to you than you are to yourself. It’s like he’s gained a sixth sense dedicated entirely to you. This applies to microexpressions, body language, even when your clothes are even the tiniest bit askew.

You’re five minutes late to a work meeting, you can’t find your shoes, and you haven’t even left yet. Oscar watches you rush around the apartment, holding your bag and your keys in his hand so you don’t have to go looking for those either.

“I’m so fired after this,” you huff, forcing your feet into your shoes that you finally located and wincing when your fingers get stuck between your heel and the shoe.

“You won’t get fired,” he says gently. “This is the first time you’ve ever been late, and you’re a fantastic employee. I’m sure they’ll be understanding.”

“They’d better be, I need this job.” You mutter, shoving your arms into your jacket and buttoning it at the speed of light.

“You don’t need a job, I can take care of you.”

“Nice try, Osc. We’ve talked about this, I’m not going to be your sugar baby.”

“Trophy wife?”

You glare at him playfully. “I’ll see you later. Or in an hour, if I get fired.”

“You won’t get fired,” he repeats as you take your bag and keys from him. “Oh, wait a second!”

You pause as he reaches for you, undoing the uneven buttons courtesy of your hastiness and deftly buttoning them back up the right way. “There y’go, have a good day, honey.” He gives you a kiss and opens the door for you.

A few days later, Oscar comes home to see that his favorite hoodie is missing. He walks into the living room, where you’re curled up on the couch taking a nap, wearing the hoodie in question. He sits at your side, brushing your hair away from your face, and that’s when he notices that one of the drawstrings is tucked back behind your neck into the hoodie. It doesn’t look like it’s causing you any discomfort, since you’re asleep, but regardless he immediately starts to tug on it. You stir, and he freezes.

“No, don’t wake up,” he whispers. “Just fixing this for you.”

“M’kay, thanks Osc,” you reply, wrapping a hand around his wrist. “Cuddle me.”

“Baby, I just got home from work, I’m sweaty-”

“Don’t care,” you grumble, reaching for him when he stands up and causing the hoodie to ride up over your stomach. “Miss you. Cuddle me.”

“Let me shower quick, and then I’m all yours, okay?” He pulls the hem of the hoodie down as he leans over and kisses your forehead.

You twiddle the drawstring that he fixed between your fingers as you wait for him, thinking about how sweet he is to pay such close attention to you all the time.

– watching your favorite movies with you

Nobody is perfect, and in your eyes, Oscar’s only imperfection is that he’s never seen Star Wars. As a life-long, diehard fan, you decided to wait until you’d been with him for a few months to introduce him to that side of you and invite him over for a Star Wars marathon.

“I hope these live up to the hype,” Oscar teases, surveying the way you’ve decorated the entire living area with Star Wars paraphernalia, prepared Star Wars inspired snacks, and just laid a Star Wars blanket across the both of you.

“Are you joking? It will be everything I say it is and more, now be quiet.” You shush him as the main theme begins.

You peek over at him over and over throughout every movie, almost watching him more than the films to see how he reacts to every little moment. You start to watch him more intensely during Revenge of The Sith, but ultimately your focus goes back to the movie when Padme arrives on Mustafar to confront Anakin, Obi-Wan secretly in tow.

Oscar’s enjoying the movies, of course, but even without seeing them he knows how well you know this upcoming scene. He’s heard you recite it so many times under your breath at various times that he feels like he might be able to surprise you with his minimal well of knowledge within the next few minutes. He grins to himself as the penultimate moment of the scene grows closer and closer and you sit up straight, accidentally knocking his arm off of your shoulders without noticing as you move to the edge of the couch.

“I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new empire!” Anakin says on screen, and you say the words at the same time.

“Your new empire?” Obi-Wan replies. Oscar mouths the words along with him, gathering up his nerve.

“Don’t make me kill you,” you and Anakin warn.

“Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to democracy!” Oscar exclaims, getting a little ahead of Obi-Wan in his enthusiasm.

“If you’re not with me,” you and Anakin say as you slowly turn to face your boyfriend, “then you’re my enemy.”

“Only a Sith deals in absolutes.” Oscar and Obi-Wan reply evenly, Oscar unable to hide the smile on his face at your barely contained excitement. “I will do what I must.”

“You will try.” Only Anakin says this final line, because you launch yourself at Oscar and bear hug him.

“You knew the lines! You did so well!” You cheer, kissing his head, his temple, his cheeks.

“You say them all in your sleep, that’s how I knew,” Oscar says, flushed from your sudden onslaught of affection.

“I do not!” He gives you a look. “Okay, I wouldn’t be surprised if I did, but still! You knew! I can’t believe- oh, wait, shh!” You shush him again, even though you’re the one talking. “Pay attention, this part is so good.”

Oscar’s smile doesn’t fade for the rest of the night as he pulls you back into his side, knowing that while this is the first, it definitely isn’t the last time he’s watching these movies with you.

– nose kisses

Oscar is the first and only person to kiss you on the nose, and you’re glad. It’s become such an Oscar thing that if anyone else did it you’d feel wrong.

The first time he did it had been a complete accident– all the lights were off already, you were both exhausted, and he was just trying to give you a goodnight kiss, but completely overshot your lips and ended up getting your nose instead.

“I’m too tired to apologize, I’ll do it in the morning,” he grumbled, and you had simply snuggled closer to him.

“S’alright, I liked it.”

After that it became the place he kissed you the most. He gives you a nose kiss first thing in the morning and last thing at night. At this point, he kisses your nose more than anywhere else, including your lips. You ask him for a kiss, and he kisses your nose.

“A real kiss,” you whine, and he furrows his eyebrows at you.

“That was a real kiss.”

“On the lips, like a normal person, please.”

Oscar crosses his arms over his chest. “Now hold on, I thought you said you liked it.”

“I do!” You protest. “It’s very sweet, but sometimes I want to actually kiss my boyfriend.”

He gives in easily, but the nose kisses are never ending. Posing for a picture? He wants to kiss your nose. Saying goodbye? You’re getting a nose kiss. He’s about to get in the car to race? He’s kissing your nose before he puts his helmet on.

While you love getting “real” kisses, Oscar’s nose kisses are more precious to you than any other kind of kiss.

note: here is the prompt list i used for this; this was a different format than how i usually write so i hope it was good! this is also the first full fic i’m posting that isn’t in the 3k word range which is shocking jdjfkfkf

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @mia-rrrs @customsbyjcg-blog @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld @nessacarty1 @tswizzleismother @anythingforourmoonsy @meko-mt @solonelystill @tomriddleswhorecruxes @sammykiszkalover @landosgirl

[augustinewrites]

as soon as satoru comes home, you can tell that something’s troubling him.

he greets the three of you quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and telling you to start dinner without him.

when he turns away, you quickly catch his hand. “you haven’t eaten since lunch. just have a little—”

“i’m not hungry,” he excuses quickly, offering you a weak smile. “i’m just going to lie down for a bit.”

he gently pulls his hand from your grasp, heading toward the bedroom without another word.

“something’s wrong with him,” tsumiki murmurs, picking up her chopsticks as you and megumi watch him go.

“he’s just tired,” you assure her. “he’ll be okay.”

you hope they don’t notice the worry behind your easy expression. you know that satoru is strong and that he’s powerful beyond measure, but strength means nothing when you give someone a piece of your heart. the worry just never goes away.

he doesn’t get out of bed for the rest of the evening, and you don’t make him. after dinner’s been cleaned up and the kids are winding down for bed, you tiptoe into the bedroom to check on him.

the lights are off and the curtain is drawn, with satoru’s uniform dropped carelessly onto the floor. you quietly shut the door behind you, and once your eyes adjust to the dark, you see him laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“hey,” you whisper, laying next to him. you scoot closer, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and gently slotting yourself against him. “what’s going on?”

his answer comes quietly, so soft you almost miss it. “some stuff came up when i was talking to yaga today. about…suguru.”

you want him to say more, to elaborate, but the far away look in his eyes tells you that now’s not the time. it also tells you that there’s nothing you can say, because words don’t mean much when you miss someone.

so the two of you lay in silence. a comfortable one, where the need to talk just to fill space isn’t necessary when you’re close to someone.

“i was supposed to take tsumiki out to buy a gift for her friend,” he sighs lolling his head to the side to look at you. “but i…i just need a day.”

“it’s okay,” you nod, tracing mindless patterns across his chest. “i’ll take her.”

“thank you,” he murmurs, taking your hand and placing a kiss on each of your knuckles.

“don’t thank me yet,” you say, tapping the tip of his nose. “because that means you’re staying home with a moody preteen.”

_____

“mom says i’m not supposed to bother you.”

satoru peels one eye open to see megumi leaning over him, a blank look on the kid’s face.

“so what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing,” he grunts, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes to resume his wallowing. “go do your homework or something.”

megumi, naturally, doesn’t listen. instead, he grabs satoru’s ankles, shoving them off the couch so he can sit.

“hey!” he protests, sitting up. “what gives?”

“tsumiki says it’s good to talk about things,” he says matter-of-factly.

satoru shakes his head, blowing out a harsh breath. “not now, alright? i don’t want to talk about it.”

megumi looks over at him with an inquisitive expression, tapping his fingertips against the arm of the couch before tentatively saying,

“mom said you lost someone.”

sometimes he forgets that you and megumi talk.

“kind of,” he answers vaguely.

“did your friend die?”

sometimes he thinks suguru might as well have. “no, he didn’t. he left and…i guess he just doesn’t want to be found.”

megumi leans back into the couch with a sigh. “my dad is like that. he left a long time ago, and i guess he doesn’t want to be found either.”

there’s a lump in satoru’s throat, guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. he can’t have this conversation. not now, not without tsumiki, and especially not without you.

he clears his throat, leaning forward to ruffle the kid’s hair. “well, i’m here.”

megumi swats at his hand, wrinkling his nose as he tries to fix the mess on his head. “yeah, i know.”

then, in a move that seems to take both of them by surprise, megumi closes the distance between them and wraps him in a hug.

satoru definitely does not tear up.

[gtgbabie0]

A cold heart

{After distancing yourself from Cregan the truth finally comes out}

Hope you enjoy as always lovelies! 💕

CW// reader is pregnant

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Cregan grew up in the North, he became acclimatised to the cold weather as he grew, but yet he’s never felt so cold then he does right now in your shared bedchambers, despite the warmth of the fire. It’s a type of feeling that completely renders him numb. An aching feeling that sits heavy against his chest, it’s almost as if he can’t breathe.

He watches you climb into bed slipping underneath the many furs. His heart freezes as the realisation slowly sets in, he’s in for another night of silence, and like every other night for the past few weeks you’ll sleep as far away as possible, shrugging off his touch.

It's not that you didn't want him to touch you, quite the opposite actually. You just couldn't risk his wandering hands grazing against your tiny bump, you wouldn't let him find out, not that way.

He doesn’t think he can go another night of isolation. So he reaches out to you in hopes you’ll reopen your caged heart to him once again, just as you did all those moons ago when he confessed his feelings to you.

“Love, will you please tell me what’s bothering you? I can’t stand this silence” he says, a gentle hand against your shoulder and he winces when he feels you go rigid under his palm.

He retreats his hand not wanting to be the cause of your discomfort. You don’t look at him, far too afraid of the pain that will stain his face.

It’s not that you don’t want to tell him, in all honesty, you so desperately wanted to share the news, but you’ve heard so my awful stories from other ladies about their husbands seeking pleasure through other means, how they are completely abandoned by them simply because they were ‘undesirable’ it hurt to hear. You couldn’t imagine going through that.

So maybe that’s why you push Cregan away, because if you do it first it’ll hurt less when does inevitably happen.

“Nothing is wrong Cregan, I’m tired,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself in search of comfort.

He likes to think that he is a calm man, never quick to anger but right now in this moment, anger is quick to warm his heart.

“Do not lie to me” he says, tone firm. You have only ever heard that when some lord made the mistake of insulting you in front of him, you remember thinking how you never wanted to be on the receiving end of that, yet here you are.

You sigh, biting back the tears that sting the back of your throat. “I just want to sleep Cregan” you whisper and he doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers.

You hear him let out a deep breath, then the bed shifts and he’s getting ready. The sudden change in the atmosphere makes you sit up, bringing the furs up with you, protecting yourself from the bitter cold.

“Where are you going?” You ask, watching as he laces up his boots, his eyes flicker to yours for a moment but they don’t linger long.

“I have work to do. Don’t wait up for me” he tells you and before you even have time to try and even think of what to say he’s gone.

You don’t bother stopping the tears that fall so effortlessly from your eyes. A regretful sob broke through your lips as you feel yourself engulfed by unwavering guilt, the type that pinches at your heart leaving bruises in its wake.

You can’t find solace in sleep, not without Cregan beside you. So you wait, and wait a book in your lap but you pay it no mind as your eyes stay fixed on the door.

You questioned whether or not he had already found another woman. Filthy thoughts tainting your mind, and you know it’s silly. Cregan would never break your trust or heart like that, never.

The hours seem to drag, and you contemplate if you should go out and find him yourself to say your sorries and give him a well-earned explanation, but the Maesters told you rest is the best thing for the babe.

Then the heavy wooden door opens, and there he is. “I told you not to wait up,” he says, and you watch him intently as he takes off his furs and leather.

You want to speak but you haven’t the slightest idea of where to even begin, there are so many words that rattle around in your brain but none of them seem good enough.

He looks over at you, and if it weren’t for the anger that still tingles his skin he would’ve felt sorry for the way you seemed to go in on yourself.

“Have I done something? Offended you somehow?— hurt you?” He wonders, wincing at the way his voice trembles, and the sound brings tears to your eyes.

You shake your head, trying to string a sentence together but the only thing that comes out is a pitiful sob. Emotions collide in your chest.

“Then what is it y/n? Why are you treating me as if I’m a stranger?” He asks, sitting at the end of the bed.

You study the scars that litter his chest, the one that travels across his ribcage that you love to you trace with gentle fingers, and you yearn to be held by him once again.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, your hand splayed against your collarbones. You can’t stop the cries that escape you. You shuffle down to where he’s sitting, a careful hand against his shoulder. “I’m sorry Cregan- I can explain” you gasp.

His slightly calloused hand soothes the expanse of your back, he hates seeing you so upset. The painful expression that paints your face, how your eyebrows furrow together. He promised himself that he’d do anything in his power to prevent this.

He wants to be mad, but he can't not when your shoulders shake as you try to stifle your cries behind a shaky hand.

“Love, breathe,” he says, taking your hand in his as he guides you through deep breaths. He’s always been so good at that.

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently and you sigh at the feeling of his beard against your skin.

“Cregan, I-” you look up at him as he urges you to continue, worry laced through his eyes, “I am with child” you whisper, your eyes flickering down to where your hands lay against his lap entwined with his own.

“The ladies have said- told stories of how their bodies change, how they no longer look the same as before- their husbands, they-” you sob, not being able to finish the sentence, a desperate need to get him to understand. And he does, he knows what you’re trying to say, and it hurts him beyond words that you would ever even consider the possibility.

His hands gently cup your tearful face, and he gives you the most endearing look he could muster. “My precious wife” he starts, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You are the light of my life, my heart is yours entirely,” he tells you, a sense of relief washing over him as you fling yourself into his arms.

It was silly of you to doubt his love, especially for you. “I know- I’m sorry,” you tell him, kissing his shoulder.

“How long have you known?” He asks, his hands grasping at your hips.

“I had a suspicion for a while” you confess, bringing his hands to your belly. You let out a breathy giggle at the way his eyes light up with excitement as his hand soothe the expanse of your stomach.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips before wiping away the stray tears that fall from your lashes, “A pup of our own eh?” He says, a teasing look flashing through his eyes as he urges you to lay against the pillows.

His hand dips underneath your nightdress grazing along your thigh travelling to rest at the curve of your stomach, your bump was barely there but yet he knows the difference. He smiles at you softly, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch.

“I promise I’ll take such good care of you, and our little one” he says, love bleeding into his tone as he peppers your neck with kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair as you urge him closer to you, you had missed him more than you thought.

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[primofate]

Protective Lover Series Part 2 - His reaction to seeing you cry (and it’s not because of him) [Genshin Impact]

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Ayato, Bennett, Chongyun, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Razor, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, gn!reader

Warnings: slight angst, more comfort and fluff than anything, not proofread, i appreciate people telling me that i missed to tag a character but the truth is i dont tag all the chars cause i think i have limited tags, no? some protective genshin guys

Personal Favourites: Tartaglia, Xiao, Zhongli

Other works in this series: (Part 1 - When someone badmouths you)

Aether

his heart breaks the same way as yours, if not even more

doesn’t say anything at first but will take you in his arms silently and make comforting sounds, rubbing your back up and down

his priority is making you feel better first, instead of bombarding you with questions about what happened.

When you’ve calmed down a little he’ll start wiping your tears and will give you a gentle smile

“You can talk about it whenever you’re ready, Y/N. In this world and the next, I’ll always be here by your side,”

Albedo

Offers you a handkerchief and stays by you until you’re ready to talk about it.

When he sees that you’re clumsily wiping your tears he takes the handkerchief back and does it for you, patting your cheeks dry while he has a hand cradling your cheek.

The look on his face is sullen and downcast, as if he’s guilty he wasn’t able to protect you from whatever it was that made you feel this way. 

He squeezes your hand and urges you to tell him what’s wrong.

“Strange. Tears are a normal human reaction to emotions...yet when I see yours, I can’t help but feel that they don’t belong on your features...”

Ayato

doesn’t look like he’s too bothered but is actually quite anxious inside. What happened? Did something transpire while he was away? Were you somehow affected by his status?

It comes with being busy all the time, he’s worried that he might not be taking care of you enough and seeing you cry hits hard for him.

hugs you protectively. One arm round your middle and the other gently pressing on the back of your head as you rest your face on his chest or the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry, love. Never in your time with me do I wish to see tears of despair in your eyes... Please, if there’s something I can do, tell me,”

Bennett

panics 

flounders and doesn’t know what to do. The let-me-check-my-pockets-if-i-have-any-tissue-welp-no-I-don’t-so-I’ll-wave-my-hands-around-to-try-and-make-them-feel-better character.

Ends up awkwardly putting both his hands on your shoulders and giving you a forced smile.

“I-It’s alright. Everything will be fine. I promise! We’ll fix it together, okay?”

Chongyun

is stunned by your tears. This may sound weird but he thinks that something about them is beautiful, despite it being sad. Kind of reminds him of snow crystals.

Holds your hand and lets you cry, being careful of if your mood is getting worse or better

is worried, but is patient and will never rush you to ‘stop crying’

is not very confident that he can make you feel better but will definitely try his best

“...Y/N? If it’s okay...Can you tell me what happened? I... I just don’t like seeing you sad...”

Dainsleif

Your tears are literally precious to him. Doesn’t matter if it’s happy or sad tears, both makes him feel a bit of sadness. 

will let you curl up in his arms as he soothes you gently, occasionally wiping away tears that cascade down your cheeks.

will press some kisses on your forehead while waiting for you to mellow down.

Will look at you while wiping your tears and

“No one should ever make you feel this way, not me, nor anyone else... Tell me what happened, my star, and I assure you I’ll take the hurt away,”

Diluc

panic but on the inside. The instant ‘what happened?’ is written all over his face but doesn’t say it out loud immediately.

thinks you’re physically hurt, when he finds out you’re not, he’s even angrier cause something has upset you to the point of making you cry and he definitely wants to know what or who it is

cups your face in his hands and has a worried expression while watching your tears fall, trying to pat them dry gently.

is ready to go to war

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen? *sighs* I’m here, it’s alright. I’m not leaving...You’re my everything, do you understand that? If anything happens to you...”

Gorou

startled but is incredibly downcast when he realizes you’re crying and it shows with his ears flattened down and his tail unmoving.

Something about his instincts makes him press his forehead against yours and he closes his eyes while holding the two of you in position like that. He thinks it comforts him more than it comforts you, but he hopes it helps you too.

doesn’t quite know what to say, but will ask politely about your feelings.

“...Is everything okay? I-I’m not sure how to make things better but I’m always here to listen. I promise,”

Heizou

Wordlessly pulls you into a hug and rubs your back, hums a little tune or song to hopefully ease your crying.

already thinking about what could have happened while trying to comfort you. 

pulls away and gives exactly two kisses on your cheek. one on the right and one on the left then proceeds to pat your face dry.

“My charming Y/N, I’ve got a good idea of what might’ve happened...Hm? How did I figure it out so fast? *chuckles* You underestimate me, dear. Your utmost happiness is easily the most important job on my list,”

Itto

Freezes. Kind of doesn’t know what to do when he sees someone crying (though he has made a lot of kids cry before >_> it’s different when it’s you)

Will offer you material things to try and make you feel better. Candy. Lollipop. His onikabuto. 

When you tell him all you want is a hug he kind of melts on the inside but is also ridiculously proud.

Is still kind of concerned and is convinced someone has bullied you and will throw hands if that’s the case

“Well you’re in luck! I give the best hugs around here! Err... Only for you though. You sure you’re okay? Want me to go and teach ‘em a lesson?”

Kaeya

crestfallen. His usual grin has turned weak and he takes you by the hand, drags you over to the nearest chair or bed and pulls you onto his lap, cradling you in his arms as you cry.

validates your feelings and doesn’t make you feel stupid or weak for shedding tears. 

let’s you cry for as long as you want and lets you rest your head on his shoulder, no matter how damp it gets.

Mostly talks to himself, but kind of talks to you as well during your process of calming down.

“...What exactly has upset my snowflake, I wonder? Someone I have to talk to? Something I have to take care of? Anything to bring the smile back on your face, love,” 

Kazuha

takes you somewhere private or quiet. Comforts you first by sitting somewhere with you and letting you drape your legs over his lap while he cradles your upper half and shushes you gently.

Thinks you’re still incredibly attractive even when crying, but is also worried about your emotions.

Will talk to you about it and won’t push too much if you don’t feel like it yet.

While wiping your tears...

“Nothing will make me think any less of you, Y/N. This will pass, but whatever it might be, please let me do the honor of sharing your burdens with you.”

Razor

Instant hug and curls his body around you, literally in protection mode and not letting anyone else near you. 

Conceals you from the rest of the world until you’ve calmed down in his arms. 

He doesn’t look at your face because he’s on the lookout for anything or anyone who tries to approach you during a vulnerable time, but he knows you’ve calmed down when your breathing evens out

“...Y/N...will be okay...I will...protect,”

Scaramouche

freezes, but out of anger, not concern. Probably trying not to stomp out of there and demand his subordinates to tell him who made you cry. 

Silently goes towards you and remarks/mumbles about how ugly you look when you cry, but he’s also wiping your tears.

Then tilts your still damp face up to look him straight in his murderous eyes. immediately goes to worst case scenario.

“Stop crying already and tell me who I have to kill,”

Tartaglia

cold. but not towards you. Cold because he’s thinking about how he’s going to make the offender suffer.

Towards you, he’s gentle and whispers comfort in your ear. Telling you that he’s here now and he’ll make it all better, but only if you tell him what happened, and only if you point out the specific people who made you unhappy.

Showers you with kisses down your jaw and up again, then presses two last ones on both your eyelids.

“Now which unfortunate soul do I have to talk to and take care of to make things better, my love? Don’t be shy now, I’ll take care of it real quick,”

Thoma

concerned. the type to approach you, hug you, rest his head on top of yours and gently or softly cradle/sway you side by side

it’s like a little slow dance but with less movements, hoping that it gives you more comfort, like a rocking chair type of thing.

it hurts him to see you cry and you can tell from his scrunched up brows and heavy facial expression.

Looks as if he’s about to cry as well.

“Whatever you feel, I feel it deeply too. When you’re happy and when your face lights up, my heart is at ease. But...seeing you this way...I didn’t think it would hurt me this much,”

Venti

still has a positive streak to him, but is mindful of your feelings. 

The type to say things like you look better with a smile or that tears don’t suit you, or that he misses your smiling face but will also tell you that you still look charming, tears or not. That’s just how he sees you.

the type to squish your cheeks together and try to get a smile out of you

“Awe there it is. See? That smile’s much better!”

After he has cheered you up will ask you what it is that upset you and will tackle the problem with you.

“Hm... I see. In that case, you can’t do it alone! This is a job for the two of us. Let’s go and make things better, shall we?”

Xiao

shocked, then angry. He’s never seen you cry and you’re usually happy go lucky so when he sees you cry he thinks it’s a gravely serious thing.

despite that he still somehow doesn’t quite understand the purpose of tears. He knows what despair is but has the mindset that tears are not necessary, though he tries to understand how fragile humans are.

Will awkwardly stand in front of you while you cry, and later on will attempt to use one curled finger to brush away your cascading tears.

“...You humans...your resolves are too weak...too fragile, and yet...” 

will pause for a seconds to continue to observe you cry. He acknowledges the twisting feeling in his chest.

“...and yet why does it make me feel this way, watching you weep?”

Xingqiu

surprised. will ask you to sit down and go through it calmly, will offer to do something for you: brew you tea, read your favourite book aloud.

Will ask you what he can do to make you more comfortable because he’d rather ask than do the wrong thing.

Will sit by you and rub your head and silently observe your mood.

will clear his schedule if there was anything on it.

“...Are you feeling better, Y/N? Would you like to stay here or go somewhere else? Take as long as you want, I have all the time in the world for you,”

Zhongli

calm but concerned. You can tell that he’s thinking about what might have gone wrong. At the same time, he’s trying to comfort you. 

Ideally he’ll take you to bed and let you curl up against him while he rubs your back, letting you get all your emotions out before he starts asking you questions, though he already as a lot on his mind. 

He lets you play with his hair, cause he knows that’s a kind of comfort for you. 

Will lay with you in bed for a while, even after you’ve calmed down, just to give you time to think.

“...Beloved, whether or not it’s a joyous occasion or a sorrowful one, for as long as I live, my promise is to love you and to always be the pillar you can rely on. Today is no different. Would you like to talk about what happened?”

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[wosoamazing]

Allergic Pt 2

Warnings: Sickness, Flu, Vomiting A/N: Sorry it's only short, just a bit busy and also know this was wanted so thought short was better than nothing. Italics = Spanish

You woke up to Alexia’s gentle shaking, “y/n, get up” you just wanted to sleep, the itchiness and hives had gone but you still felt sick and tired, you groaned and rolled to face the opposite direction. “We need to go to the doctor, you need to get up,” “Can’t I just sleep?” You moaned, “Sì, after we see the doctor.” Reluctantly you got dressed and into the car.

-

“We’ll need to send her for an allergy test, but I think it's just one of your simple everyday Allergic reactions.” Alexia huffed at his response, before dragging you out early, you convinced her to let you go to training and watch, you told her you would get bored at home.

_____

You were sitting on the floor in the gym, next to Mapi, watching the girls train, when you started to feel really sick again and before you could warn anyone you were throwing up all over the ground and Mapi.

Everyone turned around and saw the commotion, Alexia immediately came over to you to comfort you, while Ingrid was helping Mapi up, Lucy was grabbing a bucket and the rest of the girls were directed out by Kiera and Aitana.

“Do you need anything? Any help?” Kiera asked coming back in, “Can you get the medics, I doubt very much that this is a simple allergic reaction.” Alexia asked as she rubbed your back as you continued to throw up, you had started to sway slightly, becoming weaker, as you heaved your stomach contents up. As you finally finished throwing up your knees suddenly buckled underneath you, and Alexia caught you lowering you to the ground, she sat behind you, supporting you as your full body weight leant against her.

“Ale,” you breathed out weakly “I know Bebita, it's okay, I’m here, the medics will come and see what is wrong, we’ll fix you up and get you feeling better. But I’m here, and I won't leave you again until you’re 100% better.”

One of the medics came in and did some checks, “I think she also has the flu, we will give her some anti-nausea medication so hopefully she stops vomiting as she is getting dehydrated, but you should take her home, and just try to get her to sleep it off.”

_____

“Don’t worry it’s just us,” Alexia announced as she helped you walk into the house and over to the couch, Olga came out of her office to see what was happening,

“Oh, is everything okay, why are you home?” “Bebita is sick, she threw up on Mapi, the doctors said it's probably the flu too, so they gave her anti-nausea medication, said to bring her home and get her to sleep, and fluids,” Alexia rattled off going through her mental checklist.

“No but why are you home? You knew I was working from home today, I could’ve picked y/n/n up,” Olga was surprised Alexia had brought you home, usually she would call Olga to pick you up if you ever needed to leave earlier than her for some reason, it was unlike Alexia to miss training for any reason, especially considering it was the first training day since the game on the weekend. “Bebita is sick,” Alexia snapped at her girlfriend, perplexed. 

“Okay,” Olga said, not knowing how to respond to her girlfriend's absurdity. As Alexia went to sit down next to you Olga gave her a stern look, even though you had a shower to get cleaned up at training, however Alexia hadn’t bothered, her one focus being on you and getting you better, meaning she was still sweaty and gross from training. “Shower,” Olga ordered as she pointed to the general direction of their bathroom, Alexia pouted at her girlfriends orders, “now,” she quickly scampered off to their bedroom, which caused you to laugh, however laughing wasn’t a good idea as your laughter quickly turned into a coughing fit, “It’s okay, don’t worry,” Olga reassured you as she sat down next to you and rubbed your back, “water,” she said as handed you your bottle after you had finished coughing. After you had finished drinking you moved so that you could lay down, you were on your stomach and your head was in her lap, she adjusted her position so you would be more comfortable and she turned one of the current games on as she started to softly scratch your back with one hand, with the other she messaged Alexia, asking her to get somethings you would most likely need before she came back.

“Ale are you okay?” Olga asked as Alexia walked back into the lounge with everything Olga had requested for you, she was looking a little flushed and also a little pale. “I’m fine,” she huffed out in annoyance, “do you want anything? I’m going to get a drink for y/n,” she said, voice raspier than usual, “I’m okay, thank you,” Olga replied with a soft smile, not wanting to push her girlfriend further.

A harsh cough was heard from the kitchen and it suddenly all made sense, to Olga. “Can I go stay with Mapi and Ingrid?” you asked as you shifted your position so you could look at her, sick Alexia was definitely not someone people would choose to be around normally let alone when you yourself were sick.

“I’ll message them,” as she finished talking and went to reach for her phone, a few more harsh coughs were heard from the kitchen, “are you sure you’re fine?” “As I said before, I am absolutely fine.”

[inoreuct]

would you agree that we all need more Sanji getting nosebleeds over Zoro in this fandom?

YES *pelting down a hill waving the proposal for this in my hand like a madman* YESSSSSS

the first time sanji gets a nosebleed over zoro is his clue-in that oh. i’m not straight, am i. the swordsman’s doing a bench press (shirtless, as always) as sanji walks by (and sanji sneaks a look, as always, because who wouldn’t?) and when he glances over the plates he has to do a double take because what the fuck. zoro’s pressing more than twice his body weight. zoro’s repping more than twice his body weight. he’s just registered that maybe he’s stared for a bit too long when he feels something warm and wet on his upper lip, iron dripping over his mouth, and he books it for the galley.

he slams the door shut and presses his back against it before he slides to the ground and screams into his knees because what. the fuck. it’s not even that he’s getting hot and bothered over a guy; it’s just that the guy’s zoro. he’s not supposed to get nosebleeds over zoro.

but he does.

and it gets worse.

zoro walking around shirtless on deck? nosebleed. zoro re-tying the sails and just hanging on with his legs around the mast? nosebleed. zoro strutting out of the shower door, damp with steam and hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist? nosebleed. zoro tsking irritably and grabbing all of sanji’s food and packages from him to haul the whole lot over his shoulder? NOSEBLEED.

and not even that. he starts getting breathless around zoro and his chest hurts. he kicks zoro back while they’re sparring one day and the swordsman grins, feral and unrestrained and all challenge and teeth, and sanji’s heart spasms so hard that he actually wonders if he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. he’s barely twenty, he isn’t ready to die— much less because of some stupid marimo. chiselled abs and a nice set of biceps are only worth so much of sanji’s dignity. he twists and smashes the sole of his shoe right into zoro’s pretty face.

still, it gets so, so bad that he’s elected to just. avoid zoro completely. he’s sneaking around corners and running across open expanses ducked low like some kind of goofy thief and he knows it’s so fucking stupid but he doesn’t. he doesn’t know if zoro likes— no. he doesn’t even think about it. there’s no way, and if he gives himself false hope he’ll just break his own heart. he doesn’t know if zoro likes men, or anyone, much less him; nobody in their right mind would, not really. he's nice to have but not to keep and he's come to terms with it.

…until zoro corners him in the galley and demands to know what the fuck’s going on.

sanji stays facing away, slowly washing the dishes even as his heart pounds so hard it hurts. he is painfully aware of the way zoro’s seething like an over-boiled kettle in one of the chairs behind him, arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest and stock-still because he never, ever shakes his leg even though sanji knows he wants to.

his sponge squeaks across ceramic. the water’s warm against his fingertips, and his eyes flick up to meet his own reflection in the porthole window; he looks… well, he doesn’t know. scared, maybe. nervous. his mouth is thin, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, a shudder running its fingers down his spine even as his heartbeat thumps between his ribs and god, fuck, it aches. and he knows. he looks himself in the eyes and he knows that somewhere along the line nosebleeds had turned into falling in love and he was the stupid idiot who had just let it happen because he was too weak to pry zoro out of his thoughts.

his gaze flicks down sharply when he hears the sudden scrape of the chair, and zoro spits, “look, i can’t fix whatever i did wrong if you don’t tell me what it is.”

sanji’s heart throbs. “what?”

he can hear zoro’s scowl. “what, what? i obviously did something. you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

the cook almost laughs. he bites it down and swallows his words, salty-sweet at the back of his throat. guilt nips at him; zoro’s his rival and and his personal annoyance and a blockhead but he might also, maybe, just maybe, be sanji’s best friend. and sanji hasn’t been very fair to him lately.

he swallows again, clears his throat silently. “you didn’t do anything, marimo,” he murmurs to the plate in his hands, trying for airy and getting more somewhat vaguely strangled. he coughs. “just forget about it. sorry i’ve been weird.”

sanji will deal. he will, somehow; he’d been careless and careless is dangerous and for perhaps the first time in his life, he has too much to lose. he’ll squash his heart into a box and lock it down tight like he always has and it’ll hurt, but when does it ever not? he mentally declares the matter done and dusted as he shakes off the plate and gently sets it on the drying rack.

his lungs hitch as a callused hand cups his elbow.

zoro pulls him around. he’s too weak to resist. the edge of the sink digs into his hip as stormy grey eyes scan his face and zoro looks tense, his jaw set in the way it only is when he faces off with a particularly vexing foe.

“did i not look happy enough at dinner?" he asks, and it could be mockery but it isn't, not with that edge to his voice; not desperation, but damn near. like filter paper burning its way to ash. "was it my clothes on the floor? my boots on the bed? what?”

sanji can't stand it anymore. he looks away, tries to twist out of the invisible bonds zoro has him trapped in, but fingers looped around his wrist are all it takes to make him stay and fuck, fuck, he's so fucked.

"sanji, what did i do?” zoro breathes, brow furrowed, voice too near and too damn earnest, and sanji's throat bobs as he digs the heel of his palm into his eye.

this isn't how it's supposed to go. zoro isn't supposed to care. zoro isn't supposed to be standing here in the galley saying his name in that tone of voice. a hand carefully pulls his own away from his face, and zoro doesn't fucking let go, and sanji feels too much like he's been stripped down to the bone.

"i know," zoro continues, gruff like he doesn't know how to be anything else, "that i upset you. so would you please tell me what i did so i can fix it?" he bends lower still, ducking to try and catch sanji’s line of sight but sanji just can't look at him. "i'll fix it, i—"

"you can't fix this." the words are out and in the air before he can stop them, and a bittersweet smile curves his mouth. "there's nothing to fix, so you can't fix it. just let it go, alright?"

zoro wants to argue. sanji can tell. but the swordsman lets out a measured exhale after a long moment and pulls back, face carefully neutral. "at least tell me what's going on, cook."

sanji looks down at his feet. "...i can't."

"like hell you can't," zoro replies immediately, and it's such an abrupt reminder of their normal banter that it wrenches a rough noise from sanji's chest. "i was the one who held your hair back after you had, like, seven margaritas too many. don't think you could tell me anything worse than the experience of trying to stop you from falling into your own puke."

"oh, jesus fuck," sanji swears on instinct, then laughs. it's unfortunately hollow. "that was one time, asshole."

"one time too many," zoro hums, raising an eyebrow. "so you gonna tell me what's going on, or do i have to make it a captain's order?"

sanji grits his teeth.

"i will drag luffy in here, i don't care—"

"fucking—" he holds his breath, flipping around to white-knuckle the edge of the sink and letting it out slow. "fine. you ever loved someone, marimo?"

"sure." zoro shrugs easily, crossing his arms as he looks out the window. "kuina, but i think i learned to love her memory more than anything else. luffy, nami—" a near-unnoticeable flutter of thick lashes. "you."

sanji exhales through his nose as he rocks back on his heels. squeezes out air till it hurts. "you know that's not what i meant."

"what did you mean, then?"

he turns to look at where zoro has settled lazily against the counter, the moon turning his eyes to silver. "I mean the kind of love that makes your blood race. that makes you want more even when you know you'll never take more than you're allowed. the kind that makes your heart hurt so badly you feel empty without it."

the swordsman's face is unreadable as he tilts his head slowly. "i did say i love you."

it hits sanji like a bullet. he sucks in a sharp breath, and his throat burns as he turns away and tries to stop his shoulders from heaving up. "don't fuck with me, zoro. not about this."

it feels rather like a cruel cosmic joke. he's so near yet so far, just one step away with a gauzy curtain between but he can't touch it. he won't. he's got too many things on the line and yet he can't even name one of them.

"hey."

he squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of salt that shouldn't even be there, and look at that. little sanji's gone and broken his own heart again.

"hey," zoro tries again, more insistent, one hand hovering in the space between them and sanji feels the pull of it like a magnet.

he doesn't turn away as it cups his cheek. doesn't run as fingers slide through the short hairs at his nape, a thumb behind his jaw. his lashes are damp. it is everything he wants and everything he cannot have and he can't—

"look at me."

"i can't," he breathes, lungs rising fast and shallow. he's afraid to open his eyes. he's afraid of what he'll see.

"yes, you can." zoro shifts closer and another hand joins the first. it's big and rough and warm and he holds sanji's face like he's the moon herself. "look at me, curly."

he can't.

he does.

zoro's gaze is almost painful to meet straight-on with how intense it is. he seems to realise, face softening as he leans closer, closer, posture loose enough that it would be no problem for sanji to shove him away. "you love me," he breathes. "yes or no?"

sanji's heart stops. his tongue is clumsy in his mouth, his brain a mess of yesnoyesyesnoiwon'tican’tido—

"don't think." zoro's voice cuts through the haze as he shakes his head slowly; a sword through smoke, silver-bright, singing in the air and leaving silence. "don't think. you love me, yes or no."

the galley swims around sanji as his vision blurs. he feels his tears spill hot down his cheek, knows the way zoro aches to brush them away and yet stays still. he opens his mouth and it feels like stepping out of the only shelter he's ever known; he is an open fucking wound and he's raw and everything hurts, everything but zoro. zoro. zoro. "yes."

just one word, three simple letters, and still it feels like damnation; if he'd never said it he could deny it but now it's real. the swordsman relaxes, shoulders dropping enough that his forehead brushes sanji's, and sanji tracks the way his throat bobs. the way steel-grey eyes flicker over his face, molten in the light of the electric lamps and the moonlight spilling through the window, gilding zoro like something out of a dream. a fairytale sanji read as a child until the edges of the pages fitted familiar to his thumbs as his little hands reached for a happy ending that was never meant to be his.

he shakes, now, as zoro reaches up to run tentative fingers through straw-pale hair. "let me love you. yes or no."

"i—" the sound that twists from his mouth is cracked jagged down the middle, unpolished as a common pebble picked up off the damn street. "you don't—"

"yes or no."

"i'm not what you want," he gasps, his face wet.

"yes or no."

sanji wants to break apart. because zoro sounds like he's begging, and he cannot fathom anybody possibly wanting him that much. he wants to scream and cry and claw at the walls until his nails break. he wants to shatter into pieces all over the floor without having to worry about putting himself back together. he wants. he wants, and zoro's looking at him with the closest thing to reverence he's seen in his life, and even that isn't enough for him to believe it. "i'm not what you want."

he can barely look at zoro. he can barely look at himself. the shame is clawing a pit into his stomach, and he lets it, feels every inch of it, because what kind of person doesn't know how to be loved? his breath catches wetly as zoro cups his jaw in both hands, tilting his face up, and once again sanji is too weak to pull away.

"you are everything i want."

the words are so fierce, so sure, and sanji is cracking apart at the seams. the stitches pulled tight by his own hand are unravelling and he can't stop it—

"yes or no."

zoro's breath ghosts warm across his mouth, fingertips in his hair, just far away enough for sanji to see the way his eyes are blazing and yet he waits. his thumb on sanji's cheek is the gentlest thing sanji has ever known.

"you'll get tired of me," he tries weakly, one last time for good measure, and zoro just shakes his head. the resolve in his expression does not waver even once.

sanji breaks.

"yes." the word scrapes itself out of his throat seconds before arms are going around him, and he sobs. lets the swordsman bring them both to the kitchen floor as he curls up in zoro's lap, fingers clawing into his white shirt, numb with how hard he cries because nobody, nobody has ever stayed. not without him getting hurt in the process. he pushes them away when he gets scared and they let him and then it becomes his fault when it all blows up in his face, but zoro's not leaving, and it's so foreign to him that he's shaking so badly and he can't stop.

a warm, heavy palm smooths over his spine and he lets himself be shifted closer, settles sideways as zoro wraps an arm over his shins and rocks them until his breathing evens out. the embarrassment hits like a gut punch; he knows he looks like a mess, face blotchy and hair everywhere and eyes puffy as hell, but zoro cards his bangs out of his eyes and looks at him like he doesn't care, and sanji turns away.

he feels... fragile. like he's made of tinted glass and spun sugar, like he'll cave in at the slightest touch. there is something melting in his chest and it drips down over his ribs; pools fresh as a river in spring, offset by the grounding presence of zoro's hands on his skin. "don't say i didn't warn you," he mumbles, masking his very real fear behind a layer of watery bravado as he hides his face in zoro's shoulder, and of course, of course zoro sees right through him.

the swordsman's thumb traces the swirl of his eyebrow before zoro rests his chin on top of sanji's head. "i don’t listen. you know that."

you know me, is what goes unsaid, and sanji doesn't deign to reply. he buries his face into zoro's chest and breathes in the smell of steel and sword oil and— he sits up slightly, eyes narrowing. "you've been stealing my deodorant, yes or no." the way zoro stills momentarily is a dead giveaway, and he yelps when the swordsman flicks his forehead.

"would you rather i be stinky?" zoro scoffs, rolling his eyes gently as sanji settles back down with a huff.

"you still are stinky. if we're gonna be together i'm expecting you to shower at least once every two days—" zoro groans, and he powers through, raising his voice, "—and if you aren't fussy i'll let you shower with me."

the way zoro instantly stops complaining cracks a laugh out of him. it's weak and watered-down, but it's a start. zoro's hands slide back into his hair and he hums as he lets his eyes fall shut.

the moon's full tonight. their ship rocks gently, and sanji gets comfortable; zoro's warm and solid and happens to make a perfectly respectable pillow. the thought that he can have this now sends a thrill through him.

he's not a fool. he's not optimistic when it comes to this. when it comes to love.

but with zoro's thumb rubbing mindless circles against the side of his thigh and a kiss pressed to the top of his head, he's got a pretty good feeling about this time around.

[little-miss-vader]

Dueling Fates Pt. 2

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: After a particularly messy night left you feeling dirty, Anakin tries to fix things.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni pls, p in v sex, unprotected sex, swearing, choking, biting, daddy kink, alcohol, potentially dangerous situations with strange men, name calling, dirty talk, cunnilingus, smutty shit nothing too crazy idk

A/N: Part two (part one here) was requested by @granillx! Thanks so much for reading guys, this one’s … Super long. But by now you should see i’m gonna keep apologizing for long pieces while simultaneously not attempting to make them shorter. regardless i hope you all like it!

Word Count: 5.5K

Twenty-four hours. That’s all it took for Anakin to come searching for you when you didn’t bother to seek him out after your little endeavour in his bedroom, clarity set in the second you woke up that morning. You didn’t want to see him, the events had made you feel dirty. You racked your brain for the entire duration of that time, you thought of how used you felt, how infuriated both of your Masters and the Council would be, how wrong it was. It was far too easy for him to wrap you around his finger, figuratively and literally. That bothered you too, you’d have liked to think you had more willpower than that.

You were sat at a table in the back corner of the dining hall when you felt a familiar energy enter the space. Your eyes closed for a moment in frustration as you stopped picking at your food. When you opened your eyes again, his tall frame was in front of you with his arms crossed. His hair fell over his face and he looked like he hadn’t slept. You placed your fork down and rested your hands on the table as you looked up at him, trying to seem as uninterested as possible.

“Where were you? I told you to come back tomorrow. It’s tomorrow.” His voice was colder than you’d expect it to be and it immediately put you on the defensive. Your hands clenched and unclenched where they rested on the table. You took a deep breath to avoid snapping at him, you were still reeling after all.

“I made no promises, therefore I owed you nothing.” You shrugged as you began to pick up your tray to leave. He pushed it back down and it slammed down as he sat in front of you. His eyes were dark but this was normal when he spoke to you. You weren’t dumb enough not to notice how he looked at others, there was a kindness to him. Add that to the shit list. He can’t even look at you with respect. You thought to yourself. His eyebrows furrowed. It was clear he sensed what you were feeling.

“Do you regret what happened?” His tone was hushed now. You looked at him for a moment. Silence filled the air. He stared at you, reading your emotions. With a sigh he ran his hands through his hair. “Listen. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted to be closer to you.”

You scoffed. “Based on your own words that wasn’t what you wanted at all. You wanted to make me look pathetic and desperate. Or did you forget?” You spat and pulled your tray from under his hand. With a swift motion you stood up and limped away to the disposal station to rid yourself of the food you’d barely eaten. Your wounded leg was clearly not healed yet, it had only been a day and you were exhausted from lying to people about what happened. Another jot note on the shit list. You thought.

You sensed him following you and you kept walking until you reached a small and empty garden in the middle of the temple. The sun was bright as it set on the horizon and the flowers were in bloom. “Quit following me.” You muttered as you stared at the orange clouds.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He repeated and you turned around quickly. You walked over to him until there was barely a foot of space between you two and crossed your arms over your chest. “I heard you the first time. You think I don’t see what you’re doing here, Skywalker?” Your voice was filled with venom and for a moment he looked disappointed, almost remorseful. He didn’t speak.

“I know you’re just being nice so I’ll follow you back to your room and let you defile me again.” Your voice was quiet, as not to let anybody hear. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to defile you… I just- It felt right.. It did for you too. I know it. You wanted to be close to me, too. You’re just mad because you broke a stupid rule.” His words made you laugh. You were so mad you laughed. This was never good.

“How dare you tell me how I feel?” You were still laughing. Your pointer finger pressed on his chest and you narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m hearing a lot of ‘I didn’t mean to.’ What did you mean to do when you called me all those names?” He stepped away from you and his gloved hand rested on your upper arm. You shook it off immediately. “Touch me again and I’ll take your other hand.” You spat.

“I said it before. I meant to get closer to you. You drive me insane. I’m so fucking mean to you all the time because I cannot know you as I wish I could. I can’t have you in the way I desire.” His hushed words bounced around in your head and made your ears burn with anger.

“Like I’m some.. Thing? To be had? A fucking commodity?” Your words came out slow and intimidating. His eyes closed. For once, you saw him in a state where he seemed genuine. He seemed to be telling the truth but you didn’t care. You did not deserve to be treated that way. “Search your feelings, Y/N-“ He started and you jabbed your finger into his chest again.

“Don’t. Do not fucking site that shit to me like you’re so high and mighty.” Your eyes stung, you’d never been this upset. You stepped away from him and turned your back to him to take a few breaths in order to calm yourself. Fear, anger, sadness. They were very strong within you and you’d be damned if you let this be the reason you did something stupid.

He sensed your calm and approached you, only getting close enough for you to hear him. Nothing more, nothing less. “I’m sorry.” His words shocked you and you shook your head. Silence blanketed the air. Again.

You were never one to leave words unspoken but with him it was almost impossible to speak without doing something you regretted, like getting mad or letting him finger fuck you on cold tiled floors. Not even a bed. Shit list. Your inner voice repeated. You felt like pulling your hair out. He had so many red flags, so many problems. Why was it so hard to just hate him forever?

You turned to him. “Next time you want a fuck toy to make you feel better? Walk down about six blocks to that dingy bar in the lower levels. I’ve heard what you go there for. Stick to it because I won’t be of service to your sick fantasies again.” Your eyes seemed to look through him as you you walked past him, making sure you hit your shoulder against his. You watched him stagger a bit at the impact. “Fine.” He muttered as the doors to the garden closed behind you.

He’s sorry? Oh he’s sorry. How swell. How fucking perfect! Happy endings for all! Now we just have to find some banthas to ride into the sunset. Your thoughts stewed as you made your way to your room. You were done for the night. You just wanted to sleep but that was not a possibility. Your feet pulled you around your room in a pace that you didn’t quite enjoy due to your leg injury. You winced with every other step but you couldn’t stop thinking, and walking, and thinking again.

As you stepped out onto the balcony of your room for some fresh air to cool you down you saw a small figure with its hood up sneaking through the brush outside the temple. No god damn way it’s him. You thought as you focused your energy onto the figure. It was him. He was actually gonna go to that stupid bar.

Something in you urged you to follow him, to see what he was going to do. You tried to fight it but as you watched him get further away you succumbed with a frustrated groan. The best course of action was to go in regular clothing as not to be perceived as a Jedi. Trouble wasn’t something you fancied getting into and word travelled fast around Coruscant.

You put on one of the only pieces of normal clothing you had, a black dress with puffy sleeves. Maker, you hated this dress but it was a gift from your mother and one of the only things the Council allowed you to keep to remember her by. ‘Besides, everybody needs something nice to wear for special occasions.’ Your Master, Adi Gallia, had argued for you to the Council. You smiled at the memory before remembering what you were doing. You put on your robe over the short dress and tied it tight around you before pulling the hood over your head.

You decided to take the easiest route into the brush. The balcony. You’d done this a million times to watch meteor showers after curfew. It was a relatively easy feat when your leg wasn’t injured. You’d forgotten but by the time you were scaling down the column next to your balcony it was too late. Your face contorted in pain as you climbed down and hopped to your feet on the soft grass below. You ran straight into the brush and found yourself on the streets very soon. You had ditched your robe in the bushes right at the edge of the tree line to seem like a normal civilian and you began the trek to the lower levels. Your limp wasn’t making you move any faster but the cold air and your motivation was strong enough to make you prevail.

You arrived within a half hour. Your breath was heavy as you heard music blaring through the building that was illuminated by neon lights. You ventured in and began to look for Anakin as the smell of alcohol and body odour hit your nose. It really was grimy here.

It didn’t take you long, his presence essentially formed a beacon guiding you straight to him. You kept space between the two of you as you watched him. His hands rested firmly on the hips of a Twi’Lek woman who stood in front of him where he was sitting. She was beautiful. You rolled your eyes when he smiled up at her with that same smile he used to charm you in his bedroom. His head snapped toward you as you stared and you ducked behind somebody. Clearly, your presence was just as loud as his. You cursed under your breath. You were sure he saw you but he made no attempt to come to you.

You felt a hand tap your shoulder and when you looked at the source it was a strange looking man. A species you’d never seen before, almost humanoid but something was off. “What’re you doing here alone, young lady?” He asked, he must have been about 7 feet tall and his breath stank of something more rancid than the drinks they served here. You looked up at him. “Visiting.” You said politely. You weren’t here to step on toes. Especially when those toes were anchored to a man much taller and bigger than any you’ve seen before.

“A visitor? You must let me buy you a drink. As my special welcome, of course.” He smiled at you and his teeth almost made you gag. With a curt smile you shook your head. “I’ve never drank. I don’t wish to.” You spoke as kindly as you could and the man laughed.

“All the more reason for me to buy you one! Your first drink!” He spoke as he snapped his fingers. Your shoulders tensed as a cantina worker brought you two purple drinks in small, clear glasses balanced on a tray in her left hand. You smiled uncomfortably at her as you took one and he took the other. He clinked your glasses together and you gave the liquid a weary look. You had to stay under the radar and avoiding this would make you look suspicious. As you lifted the glass to your lips and closed your eyes you felt somebody knock it out of your hand. Your eyes opened to Anakin standing between the two of you, his eyes were blazing and his jaw was so tight you could nearly see every crevice of every muscle in it.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He spat and the man rested a hand on his shoulder. “You know this girl, Skywalker?” He asked. Anakin was clearly a regular around here. The boy in front of you, blazing with anger simply nodded and the man nodded in response. His put his hands up in surrender and walked away.

“I see you took my words to heart.” You crossed your arms as you glanced down at the broken glass beneath you both. Nobody even seemed to bat an eyelash at the glass shattering. It probably happened fairly often, it wouldn’t surprise you given the state of the disgusting building. “I see you’re an idiot.” He spat as he grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the establishment. The air was colder now and he pushed his robe at your chest.

“An idiot-“ He cut you off. “I don’t want to hear it. Cover up. Has nobody ever told you not to take drinks from strangers? That guys a fucking creep. He would have had you in every way he could when you passed out five minutes after drinking that shit.” His voice boomed over the music and you dropped your head. He smelt like alcohol and perfume.

He snatched his robe from your unwilling hands and wrapped it around you and he tied it tight causing your breath to get caught for a moment at the impact. “And what the hell are you wearing? God. Fuck you’re so smart. You’re the smartest Jedi I know but you’re so god damn clueless!” His words were filled with anger and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“I wanted to know.” You muttered. “Know what? That I came to do exactly what you told me to do? What is it you want? Please just fucking tell me. You drive me insane, you let me have you, you reject me, and now you’re following me to see who and what I’m doing?” His jaw was clenched and he spoke through his teeth. You shook your head again. “Use your fucking words god damn it, Y/N!” He yelled. You looked at him shocked and he instantly softened.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered and he sighed, shaking his head. “You should have never come here. Let’s go. Now.” His words were softer but still held a stern aura to them. It made you feel like shit. He held your arm firmly like you would run away back to the man in the cantina if he let you go as he tugged you back to the Temple. After a few minutes of silence you pulled your arm from him and he snapped to look at you. “What now?”

“What about your little girlfriend?” You muttered and you swore he got right back to being as angry as before but this time he pulled you toward him by your hip. “She had the same name as you. That’s what about her.” He seethed and his intense, blue eyes bored holes into your own. Your face softened and your cheeks caught the lightest pink tinge. “What were you going to do with her?” Your voice was quiet.

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? I had to come rescue you.” His hands grip on your waist tightened as he stared down at you. “Why won’t you let me have you?” He whispered, his forehead falling against yours.

“You made it pretty easy to believe you were just using me. You used my clothes to clean yourself off and threw them at me before shooing me away like some sort of 99 cent whore.” You looked up into his eyes and immediately dropped your gaze again. He sighed. “I’m not the most.. Romantic. When it comes to that stuff, but I swear on everything. I care about you. I wanted to make you feel good. I wanted to have you more than anything.” His hand cupped your cheek and his thumb brushed against your skin. Your lips pressed into a line after you let out a deep sigh. You searched his eyes, he was being truthful. You could see it, feel it. “I made you feel good didn’t I?” His words were laced with the faintest smile and you nodded your head immediately. The heat from his body combating the cold air on the planets lower levels made you feel safe.

“Atta girl.” He whispered and your cheeks reddened again. He glanced down at your leg and remembered you had hurt it. His arms snaked around you and he picked you up bridal style, a shocked gasp left your mouth. “You were supposed to be resting that leg. Not walking 30 minutes in the cold to find me.” He mumbled as he began walking.

“I’ll rest it when I get back.” Your protests came to no avail and you sighed. This was nice, not having to walk. You wrapped your arms around his neck in defeat as he snuck you two back home.

He picked up your robe from where you told him you hid it and successfully snuck you back into your room without a single person noticing. Who would notice? The entire Jedi Temple was fast asleep anyways. His arms pulled away from your body as he sat you down on your bed. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He said as he walked toward your door.

“Anakin.” You stopped him and he turned around, his eyes bright with hope. “Stay.” You whispered and he made no hesitation to walk toward you and sit next to you. Your cold hands cupped his warm cheeks and you pulled him in to a kiss. He sighed against your lips as you both tried desperately to deepen the kiss as if you wanted to be inside each other.

“Are you gonna yell at me tomorrow for what I wanna do to you?” He whispered and you shook your head. Something about the situation made you feel like this was what was supposed to happen and for once, you actually pursued it. His hands pulled you farther into the bed and he laid you down on the pillows as he pulled away from the kiss. “You look so good, Y/N. I know you have normal pants and a shirt but you wore a dress..” He whispered as he pulled on the fabric and you bit your lip before speaking. “I guess subconsciously I wanted you to think that..” You whispered back.

“Job well done.” He responded before leaning in for another kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth and you moaned quietly causing a smirk to pull at his lips that were fighting yours. He pulled the dress off with ease and began to ditch his clothing too. For the first time, you laid eyes on his bare chest and you nearly forgot how to breathe. It was better than you ever could have imagined. His muscles moved under his skin as he pushed his pants off and bunched them into the rest of his clothes only to throw them somewhere in your bedroom.

The moonlight creeping in from the horrendous curtains the Council provided the rooms with shined over him and you could have sworn you died and went to heaven. He wasted no time in letting his hands roam your body. You jumped when he is fingers grazed over a specifically ticklish part of your waist and he smirked. His hands searched your body as if he was trying to memorized every curve and detail. You watched him with bated breath as he stopped at your breasts. His hands were big enough to engulf them and he squeezed gently. A moan fell through your lips and his orbs darted between your nipples and your eyes. He leaned down to place a kiss on your chin, moving down slowly to your neck and collarbone. The feeling of his heavy breathing on your skin was enough to cover you in goosebumps as you wiggled under him with excitement.

His lips were hot as he left a trail of saliva down your body. The cold air in the room hitting the wet spots on your hot body made you shiver. He trailed his kisses down the middle of your chest and licked up towards your nipple and he caught it in his mouth. Your back arched into him and gasp echoed through the room. Your hands tangled their way into his hair and your eyes watched him, widened and in awe, as his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked away at your taught bud. His hand moved up your body to rub his thumb in circles over the one he didn’t have his mouth on. Your chest heaved at the feeling and you pushed your head back against the pillow.

“That feels so good..” You whispered through heavy breaths and he smiled against your skin. When he began to flick his tongue against your nipple and twist your other one between his fingers your legs squeezed shut under him as you felt your cunt begin to pulsate. His face lifted for a moment to blow on the soft wet skin and you moaned, tugging on his hair harder to pull him up toward you. Your lips caught his in a lustful kiss. You both smothered each other, barely moving away to breathe and your hand reached between the two of you to stroke his length. Your hand wrapped around him and he moaned into your mouth, your heart beat increased when you felt how big it was.

Before you could pump him a second time a quick, rough hand grabbed your wrist and pinned it above your head. “Uh, uh.” He shook his head as his eyes stared into yours. “Ladies first.” His words came out raspy and breathless. He left your hand above your head and dipped his own hand down between your legs. He fiddled around your entrance for a moment and when you squirmed he looked at you again.

“Use your words.” He spoke gruffly as he contained his own need to feel how wet you had gotten. “Please, Anakin-“ His tongue clicked against his teeth and he stopped moving his hand. He dipped down between your chin and neck, biting gently before scattering wet kisses all over the area.

“What do we call somebody who takes care of us?” The words almost came out in slow motion against your skin and your eyes widened before you stuttered it out. “D-Daddy…” You whispered. You were no stranger to this kink, but it had never been something you’d done. Your cheeks burned a bright red as he lifted his head to smirk at you. He hummed in response. “Good girl.” He whispered. “Next time you say it, say it louder for daddy.” The words pierced your ears and he slipped two fingers into your sopping hole. A whimper left your lips at the sudden feeling of him pumping his fingers in and out, curling them every so often to make that pretty gasp come out of your mouth again.

“So wet.. So ready for me.. Fuck you’re perfect.” He grunted as his cock began to grow at the thought of being inside of you. “Thank you, Daddy.” Your voice came out whiny and he loved it. He made that clear when he pushed himself off of you and pulled his fingers out. He pressed your cheeks together to make your mouth open and he slid his fingers in. You hummed against him at the taste and began sucking like your life depended on it. “That perfect fucking mouth…” He groaned with a gleam of an idea in his eyes.

With a swift motion he rolled the two of you over and sat you on his lap before spinning you around so your back was facing him. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and tugged you so your pussy was in his face and his dick was in yours. “Be a good girl and do what you just did to my fingers to my dick. I’ll make it worth your while.” His command was immediately followed as you wrapped your lips around him. His hips bucked pushing his length further into your mouth and you gagged, causing your throat to tighten around him. You bobbed your head up and down, moaning at the feeling of his heavy breathing against your pussy. He watched you for a moment, basking in the sight.

“Now that’s something I can put that smart mouth to use for.” A hand slapped down on your ass, causing a beautiful burning sensation to make itself known and you let out a muffled yelped around him. The vibrations made him shiver before he stuck his face into your pussy. The taste of you and your moans vibrating his cock made him want to touch every corner of your pussy with his tongue. He flexed his tongue and fucked you with the muscle and you damn near screamed.

Your eyes were watering and your saliva was all over him when you finally came up for air causing a string of spit to break and fall on your chin. His hands were grasping your hips firmly to keep you from moving away from him but he removed one to push your head back down.

“You’re not done till you cum.” He spoke against you and you returned to licking and sucking on his cock like it was a popsicle. His tongue moved up to your clit as he licked small, quick circles around it. He moved one hand from your hips again to push his two fingers against your hole again. When he slipped them in your entire body jumped and his gloved hand that was still holding your hips dug into you further to keep you still.

“Oh daddy-“ Your words were cut off by a gasp when he curled his fingers and began to suck on your clit. Your breathing became quicker by the second and it was filled with breathy whines as you felt a knot build in your stomach. You repositioned your mouth around him immediately to keep him from stopping. Your movements became harder to control as he pushed you further and further. You moaned around him and your legs began to squeeze his head. You shook intensely as he pulled his fingers out to lap away at the juices that came from you, letting you ride your high gently.

He stopped eating away at your pussy when you came up from him to catch your breath. Your breathing was loud and erratic. He smirked as he flipped your positions so he was on top again. It was almost too easy for him to throw you around into different positions. “What do we say when daddy makes you cum?” He whispered in your ear before biting down on the sensitive skin underneath.

“Th-thank you, Daddy.” You whimpered beneath him as your eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of his teeth on you. Your back arched into him and your hands travelled to his shoulders. You held onto him as he pumped his cock between your legs with his flesh hand. “Put it in for me.” He demanded and you complied with a quick “Yes daddy.” Your shaky hand reached between the two of you and you positioned him at your entrance before pulling him into you. The head pushed through and you yelped. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and you retracted your hand from his length to join your other one as you grasped him tightly. The moan that left his mouth as he pushed into you made your head spin and his eyes started directly at you.

“Watch me. Watch me push my dick into your tight little pussy.” He groaned and your eyes dropped to watch his cock sheath itself in you. You hummed at the sight and he stopped when the base of his dick hit your body. He didn’t move and your eyes snapped back up to his, pleading him silently to do something.

“What do you want?” He cooed at you, his eyes still held a high level of intensity and the juxtaposition made you squirm. “Please fuck me, Daddy.” You whined and grinded your hips toward him to feel something. He shook his head, pushing your hips down. “You’re not gonna move. You’re gonna take this dick with your legs spread. Got it?” He spoke in a sadistic way that made your pussy clench around him. He grunted at the feeling before beginning to thrust into you. Your eyes rolled back into your head at the feeling.

“Eyes.” He said sternly and you snapped them open to look at him again. “How’s that feel, baby?” Your breath caught in your throat at the nickname and your fingers dig deeper, causing your nails to press into his skin and he took a sharp breath. “Good, Daddy. So fucking good.” You moaned as you maintained eye contact. His movements sped up and instead of pressing your hips down, his hand trailed over the bottom of your belly and he pushed down as he sat back on his heels, angling his dick up into you.

“Fuck!” You screamed at the new feeling of him steadily thrusting against a spot that made you feel like you’d never felt before. His hand caressed your hair before trailing down to your neck. “I’m gonna do something, just trust me.” He whispered as he squeezed both sides of your neck gently, the feeling caused you to feel like you had stood up too quickly and you moaned. “I like it, Daddy.” Your words were weak and he smirked. “Good.” His pace picked up and his other hand trailed down your stomach before pressing his thumb against your clit. He didn’t move it but the feeling alone was enough to make you groan through the pressure on your neck.

“You look so good like this, baby.” He moaned, his breathing becoming louder. He circled his thumb against you causing your back to arch and you moaned his preferred nickname to him. He hummed in response when he felt you began to twitch ever so slightly.

“Another one for, Daddy.” His thumb moved a bit quicker and you felt yourself begin to drool as your mouth stayed open while he choked you. He chuckled. “My messy girl.. You can do it. Gimme another one.” He moaned when he felt your pussy begin to contract around him and he sped his pace up. You watched the muscles in his body tighten with each move and that, along with his words, did it for you. You let your juices spill over him as you found the orgasm he was helping you chase and his hand removed itself from your throat, instead grabbing your hip tightly while his other hand held your tummy down. He railed into you and multiple grunts left his lips before you felt him twitch inside of you. It wasn’t a second longer before you felt something warm spurt into you and a gasp left your lips.

He weakened immediately as little bursts of warm liquid filled you up, his body dropped down over yours and he moaned into your ear as his own body shook. His strokes slowed and he rammed into you slowly as he blew his load inside of you. “Oh fuck you felt too good to hold out.” He whispered and you giggled. “I guess I win then.” You smiled triumphantly. His head raised from your neck and he looked at you. “I have you beat 3-1. I don’t think it to be that big of a win.” His words were quiet but that confident smirk still graced his face. You rolled your eyes as he collapsed next to you. His hand rested on his chest while the other pulled you in to lay on his chest and combed through your hair.

You laid there with your hand on his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. Your eyes suddenly began to droop with exhaustion and he looked down at you. “Tired?” His voice was quiet and surprisingly kind. You nodded and hummed in response. He chuckled and got up, he began to hop off your bed and you whined, pulling him back by his arm. “I can’t sleep here.” He chuckled again and you shook your head. “Just stay till I fall asleep..” You whispered and he laid back down next to you. You laid on him and he stroked your hair until he heard small snores leave your swollen lips.

Anakin quietly slid out from under you and pulled the blanket on your bed over your body before kissing your forehead. He pulled his clothes on lazily and snuck out of your room to get to his own. His feet padded down the hallway quickly and quietly and he got to where he needed to be with no interruption. The next day came and when you two weren’t at each others throats while training Obi-Wan took it upon himself to pull Anakin aside and ask what had changed so suddenly.

“We turned a new leaf. No point in fighting, it’s only a distraction.” He responded with a shrug and you looked over at him as Obi-Wan walked away. A small smile tugged at your lips and he threw you a wink before approaching you at the training ring with his lightsaber ignited.

“Again.” He spoke sternly, a hint of a smile pulled at his own lips. “Ready to continue your losing streak so soon?” You laughed and he raised an eyebrow. “Depends. Can I continue my winning streak later?” He said with a teasing voice and a playful smile. You rolled your eyes, swinging first and he blocked causing the sound of your clashing lightsabers to fill the room.

[steddieas-shegoes]

all mixed up

for @steddielovemonth prompt “love is the perfect mixtape’

rated t | 940 words | cw: brief mention of recreational drug use | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, love confessions, fluff

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

The silence in the car was stifling.

It was hot. Like, entirely too hot.

Steve was about five seconds away from taking his shirt off and dealing with Robin’s rolled eyes when Eddie, surprisingly, beat him to it.

The windows were down, but the radio was off, and sweat was dripping from every pore of their bodies onto the sticky leather seats of Steve’s car.

Eddie’s shirt was sitting on the seat next to him, and one of his hands was gathering his hair up so he could get some wind on his neck, not that the wind was any real help.

“What if we just all go to Robin’s?” Eddie asked when they were only a block away from her house. “Soak up some cool air.”

“Her parents are home,” Steve said for the fifth time.

“I don’t see the issue.”

“They think you were targeting me as the next victim,” Robin shook her head. “I don’t know how many times I’ve explained to them-“

“Fine!” Eddie said, too hot to bother listening or trying to argue. “But I swear we’re getting the AC in this car fixed tomorrow.”

“Oh, do you suddenly have $140?” Steve was met with silence. “Thought so.”

When Robin got out of the car, she slipped $20 into Steve’s hand. “For gas or AC, whatever.”

It was the first time Eddie had ever seen her give Steve any form of payment for rides, and probably the last going off of the way Steve’s entire face went from mildly uncomfortable to physical pain.

Eddie moved to the passenger seat and buckled up.

That was the biggest rule in Steve’s car: everyone wore seatbelts unless they were being chased by Upside Down creatures.

Steve backed out of the driveway once Robin was inside, and once again tried to flip the AC on.

Nothing.

“Why did this have to happen right before the hottest part of the year?” Eddie groaned.

“Just lucky,” Steve shrugged.

He should’ve taken his shirt off when he was in Robin’s driveway.

He pretended not to be distracted by the sweat glistening on Eddie’s chest, his skin flush pink from the heat. Steve pretended to not notice his newest tattoo, a nail bat that could have been identical to Steve’s real one under his bed.

“Oh!” Eddie suddenly said, nearly making Steve slam on the brakes or steer off the road. Maybe both.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot,” Eddie started to say as he reached through the backpack he had on the floor at his feet. “I made a…ah-ha!”

He held up a small rectangle, beaming over at Steve, who was too focused on driving to really see what he was holding.

“Uh. What is it?” He asked.

“It’s a mixtape! You were complaining about the kids stealing all your tapes and I thought I could make one for you,” Eddie opened the cassette case and shoved the tape in the tape deck. “I fit as much of what I knew you had on here, but there are limits to my magic so-“

“You seriously made me a mixtape of a bunch of pop songs?” Steve rolled to a stop at a stop sign, finally able to properly look over at Eddie.

He was pulling a lock of hair into his mouth, nervously looking back at Steve like he was unsure he’d done the right thing, like this was a test he hadn’t studied for and had a big chance of failing.

“I mean, I did throw in one of my favorite songs halfway to shake things up,” Eddie said nervously.

“You recorded fucking Blondie on a tape for me?” Steve asked incredulously.

“One song is Blondie, but-“

“And Tears for Fears?” Steve was still stopped in the road.

Eddie glanced behind them, ignoring the squeak of his slick skin rubbing against the seat. No cars, thankfully.

“Yeah, they’re on there.”

Steve put the car in park.

“Steve, you’re in the road, you can’t-“

“Shut up!” Steve turned completely towards Eddie, his face serious. “You made me a mixtape.”

“Yes and now I’m regretting mentioning it while you were driving.” Duran, Duran started playing and Steve let out a small gasp. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Do you remember when you told me that music was your love language? We were high and you said that you would give the person you love a mixtape to show you cared about them?”

He did say that. It was well over a month ago, when he and Steve had been sitting on his roof smoking, when Eddie had almost told him then how much he loved him. He’d held back, but barely.

“I…yeah, I remember.”

“And you made me a mixtape.”

“I did.”

“Eddie…”

“Steve…”

“Is this you telling me you love me?”

It wasn’t. Not intentionally. Not really.

But as expected, Steve saw through him, had a memory like a steel trap despite how many times he’d had his lights knocked out.

“You love me.”

Eddie was desperate to touch him, but the reminder of how hot it was, how much sweat was dripping off of him made him pause.

“When we get to your house, I’ll tell you.”

“What? Why not now?” Steve pouted.

Eddie fell harder.

“Because if I kiss you in this car, I’ll be mad about suffering in the heat longer. You have a house with AC and a cold shower." Eddie poked Steve's bottom lip back in. "I can show you if you hurry."

Steve took the car out of park and hit the gas, his perfect mixtape playing on the radio and Eddie laughing in the passenger seat.

[ladyofthenoodle]

“adrien wasn’t bothered by chloe’s behavior until it affected him” okay first of all it’s literally affected him since origins because it impacted the assumptions his classmates made about him but okay. i’ll grant that his disapproval of her has gotten harsher as it has hit him closer to the heart.

BUT i would like to offer an alternative perspective: this is the first time that adrien has seen chloe’s actions cause long term damage. while hawkmoth is at large, chloe’s actions usually lead to someone being akumatized - a big consequence, yes, but one where the damage is fixed with the toss of a lucky charm and some catharsis or opportunity for growth for the victim. yes, chloe hurts people and she’s mean and it’s wrong, and adrien never approves of how she treats people, but at the end of the day he’s willing to give her another chance after the day is saved. tomorrow is a new day full of possibilities and chloe can try again to be a good person, because the mess she made today was cleaned up.

this is the first time adrien has seen the way chloe’s actions continue to cause harm, months and years after the fact. this is the first chance he’s had to condemn her not for the abstract idea of how one should treat other people or the short term consequence of an akuma, but for causing lasting psychological harm to someone that doesn’t go away even after the akuma is defeated or they learn something about themselves or they get support and love from their friends. because even after all that, marinette still can’t take adrien’s hand. what chloe and kim did is burned into her psyche in a way she can’t easily heal from. and this is the first time adrien has really seen that, has seen that chloe isn’t just mean but causes lasting damage to people’s spirits. so i think yes, he reacts this way because it’s his girlfriend and it’s impacting his relationship with her, but he also reacts this way because he’s finally able to see the long term consequences of her actions in a concrete way.

[backtothefanfiction]

Crown

Warnings: slight depress vibes with a fluffy pick me up, mentions of neglect/abandonment & family trauma

A/N: some more Daisy and Fix. I had a loose idea for this little imagine but just let it take me where it wanted to go. Feels a little under done and messy but isn’t that life anyway.

You love being at Saltburn, but it isn’t always easy. The hardest days always seem to be on those very rare sunny days when everyone, Elspeth and James included, lies out and enjoys the weather. On those days when it’s too hot to sit inside or work.

On those days, you can’t help but look at James and Elspeth, the way they dote not just on their own kids, but Farleigh, yourself - even Ollie. How parents should be. On those days it becomes particularly hard to ignore the circumstances of why you live at Saltburn.

You try to sit there and ignore that pit inside as it slowly grows, but every smile, every laugh, every kind attentive word from Elspeth to her own flesh and blood, it claws away at that hole until it’s too big to ignore. So big that just like Alice, you end up falling down the rabbit hole.

Felix sees when it happens. He knows exactly what the issue is, but he’d never make you talk about it in front of everyone. He also knows he can’t say anything to dim his mother’s light in able to fix things and make them better for you in those moments. You’ve talked it out together before. You’ll talk it out again and again in the quiet hours beneath the sheets before sleep. All he can do now is sit with you through it so you know you’re not alone. Let you know he’s there, your lifeline holding the rope to pull you back out again when you’re done free falling and that rope pulls tight.

He rests his head in your lap. He strokes loving circles on your thighs, but you’re falling so deep you barely notice.

You can barely hear the comment Ollie throw’s Elspeth’s way, but it’s her responding laugh that penetrates your senses and that rope finally pulls tight. It’s so sudden, so taught as it brings you back to the present you think it might just snap. The resounding thoughts make you finally leave, politely excusing yourself making up some excuse about why you need to pop into the house.

You smile to the staff as you make your way inside and head straight to your safe space, the one place you know no one will bother coming to find you. No one except Felix.

He doesn’t come straight away, leaving you enough time that it doesn’t alert everyone else that something is wrong. Another conversation the two of you had had in the past. Elspeth and James were so nice to take you in when your parents fled the country and left you behind, you didn’t want to feel like more of a burden than you already did. Didn’t want them to think their generosity all these years was in vain.

You logged into the computer in the corner of the library to check your email, to see if you had anything at all from your siblings or your parents. Nothing. It only cemented those feelings of abandonment even more and you couldn’t help the tears that silently began to roll down your cheeks as you realised you’d finally reached the bottom of that pit inside you.

It’s like he knew you were pulling on the lifeline to be brought back up. When he appeared in the doorway to the library you had sat yourself on a chair in front of one of the windows, looking out at the grounds. You remembered the summer days as kids in the days before, running around on the grass with Felix, Venetia and Farleigh while your parents were inside talking. You remember, each of you a water pistol in hand, a couple buckets of water balloons spread across the green. You had split into two teams. You had wanted to be partnered with Felix, but Venetia had called girls vs boys. Even then Felix still somehow played the role of a gallant knight as Farleigh tried to throw a water bomb grenade at you. He’d crossed in front of you and took the hit, much to his cousins chagrin.

You’d always played silly games out there before crashing, all your energy zapped as you lay out on the grass to dry out or recharge. You’d find yourself picking daisies and weaving them into crowns or bracelets for everyone. It’s like he knew that’s what you were thinking about now.

“Here, I think you dropped this.” He said as he stepped across the room to you, a chain of daisies held carefully in his fingertips. You gave him a small smile as you brushed away the tears on your cheeks and he placed the flower crown on your head. “Daisies for my Daisy.” He said.

He sat in the seat opposite you and you reached out a hand to his. “I love you, Fix.”

“I know.” He said with a smile before he leaned forward for a kiss. “You know it’s not your fault, okay? It was never your fault.” He reassures you.

“I know.” You reply with a half hearted smile.

“Come on, let’s go stick a movie on or something.” He says, hands rubbing carefully on the tops of your thighs before he holds his open arms up for you to take.

You spend the next hour on the sofa in the adjoining TV room cuddled up with him rewatching Mean Girls for the millionth time.

“I love you, Fix.” You murmer against his side as you snuggle in closer.

His arm grows tighter, protective, across your shoulders as he pulls you in tighter to him, “I love you too.” He says as he kissed the top of your head.

[seijorhi]

Etched in Red: Ruby (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Hinata Shoyo x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.3k

tw: stalking, yandere themes, implied dub/non-con.

“I… have to go,” Kenma sighs. “Bye, Shoyo.” The last part’s tacked on like an afterthought, his attention already drawn over his shoulder, fixed on something Hinata can’t see. The source, no doubt, of those two loud thumps. 

Hinata doesn’t bother hiding his smile, signing off with a wave. It’s not the first time their video chats have ended this way, he’d wager it won’t be the last. Come to think of it, he had mentioned something about a stray a few weeks back. Maybe…

He shakes himself free of the thought, glancing down at the time on his open laptop and– shit. He’s gonna be late. 

It takes all of fifteen minutes for him to throw on some half decent clothes and bike across town. These days, with the sponsorships and all, he doesn’t have to work so hard, riding over town delivering food all night. 

He doesn’t have to, but he chooses to. 

On Friday nights, at least. Usually around six-thirty. He waits on the sidewalk, flicking through the app, declining, declining, declining, until he spots an all too familiar order. His face lights up. 

Accept. 

Being that he’s already parked out front of the restaurant, it means he’s got a little time to kill, but that’s cool, too. The staff know him by name, share knowing, vaguely amused looks when he pokes a head in to see where everything’s at. 

“Won’t be long, Shoyo,” one of them tells him, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he walks on by. They never actually ask which order he’s there to pick up.

And it’s habit, more than anything else, that has him checking said order when it’s called. Normally, a quick glance is all it needs, but… his smile fades, head tilting a little. There’s too much food. Almost twice the usual. 

The girl at the counter shrugs before he can even ask. “That’s the order we got. Girl’s probably got a friend coming for dinner.” Her eyebrows waggle, telling Hinata exactly what kind of friend she’s thinking of. “Either that or she’s real hungry.”

A wave of unpleasantness creeps under his skin, his insides twisting. He thanks her all the same, quick to bundle the food in the carry case and settle on his bike. By now, he knows the route like the back of his hand, he’s ridden it so often. He could do it blindfolded, in the dark–

… Were you having friends over? 

You don’t usually, not on Fridays. Sometimes you come back to the apartment tipsy and late, but you haven’t ever brought anyone back with you – aside from that one time, with the tall, loud girl who wouldn’t stop trying to drag you into impromptu karaoke. He’s never seen anyone else though. You’re like him, aren’t you? A creature of habit, routine. Six-thirty every Friday, the same order. 

Is it the tall girl again? Another of your girlfriends? 

Someone… else?

That uncomfortable feeling returns. Would it make a difference if it really was just a friend?

Before he knows it, Hinata’s out the front of your apartment, heart thudding away like his chest’s full of lead. Normally, you’re already there on the steps, waiting for him, because he knows you watch the tracking app like a hawk, because that’s what you do. That’s the routine – your routine; six-thirty, Friday night, you and him, on these steps. It’s his.

Hinata doesn’t realise his hands are shaking until he goes to grab your food.

“Shoyo?”

He whirls, expression bright. There you are. Lovely and beautiful in the golden light of dusk, smiling back at him like nothing’s wrong. The sight alone should ease the static beneath his skin, loosen the knots in his stomach, but it doesn’t. His smile feels too tight, his cheeks aching with it. 

Who are you having dinner with?

He doesn’t realise he’s actually spoken the words aloud until you blink at him, offering a somewhat sheepish reply. “Oh, you noticed that, did you?” How could he not? “A friend from back home. She’s staying with me for a few days, and since I apparently never shut up about this place, and it is a Friday night tradition…” you trail off, shrugging easily. “Here we are.”

Right. A friend from back home. Robotically his arm jerks forward, holding out the food for you to take. 

“Thanks for this,” you continue, blissfully unaware of the absolute, chaotic mess currently wreaking havoc inside of him. “It’s kinda weird, right, how you’re always the one picking up the order? They should really just cut out the middleman and hire you on retainer.” You’re joking, of course, the giggle tells him that much, and Hinata forces himself to chuckle along with you. 

“Same time next week, then?”

Do you hear the same faint tinge of desperation he does? He really, really hopes not. 

“You betcha,” you shoot back with a wink that seizes his heart with an invisible fist, already turning to make your way back inside to the warmth of your apartment. To the friend from back home who’s no doubt waiting for you.

From up above, a shadow moves across the window he knows is yours.

Not a date, Hinata reminds himself, just some nameless, faceless girl she used to know. One who’ll be gone soon enough. Back home, away from you. 

Honestly, it should be a relief. 

So why does it feel like his blood’s about to boil? Like the floor just opened up beneath him and everything’s falling apart? Standing on the sidewalk, hands flexed at his sides, his breath comes out in short, choppy pants. 

On wooden legs, he stumbles back to his bike. Kicks a leg over the frame and settles himself down, hands wrapped around the handlebars in a white knuckled grip. And still, he doesn’t move.

He can’t even think over the deafening roar in his head. 

This – Fridays – they’re his. Yours, yes, but his, too. And this girl, she’s… she’s intruding. She doesn’t belong. She shouldn’t be there.

And if she’s up there, what’s to stop others from stealing as well? 

Across the street, there’s a sudden banging noise, and Hinata turns just in time to see a scrawny looking tabby dart through the mouth of an alleyway. A stray.

For a while, longer than he’d probably like to admit, Hinata stares after it, his brain ticking over.

With one last, lingering glance up at your window, he huffs out a sigh and pushes off.

—

One thing Hinata learned during his stint as a delivery driver is that if you buzz the wrong apartment and someone’s home, more often than not they’ll let you in anyway. 

It’s only Wednesday. He’d been good, waited the four agonising nights while your friend took up space in your apartment. But she left today, and Hinata knows you, knows that you’re probably exhausted from having to put up with her, that you don’t have any plans tonight other than curling up on your couch and watching TV. 

You won’t mind him showing up instead, even if he maybe – probably – should’ve waited ‘til Friday. 

The food he’s got isn’t from your favourite restaurant, either, it’s from his, and he’s pretty confident you’re gonna love it. He brought flowers, too. Just in case. 

Excitement thrums through his veins, jittery and bright, and, unable to help himself, he bounces on his toes.

You answer the door wearing pyjama shorts and an worn, faded tee and Hinata beams because you’ve never looked prettier, even when that cute little crinkle scrunches between your eyebrows, “Shoyo, what–”

Right now, he’s supposed to say something charming, or funny, maybe. Something to smooth out the confused expression he doesn’t wanna call a frown. He should be a gentleman – he got the flowers and the food, he even went out and bought the fancy, expensive cologne Heitor recommended because Nice goes nuts for it. 

There was a plan. Or, sort of a plan.

It didn’t involve him dropping the flowers and the food on the floor, lurching forward like a man possessed to haul you into a scorching, life-altering kiss, pushing you back into your apartment and kicking the door shut behind him, but holy shit–

It absolutely should’ve.

[jakescakeislateforourdate]

hi I am the anon from the other day I was thinking about being in a established relationship w Don and he has a rough day a practise I don’t have your talent at writing lol so do what you please after that ahah

Perfect Form

Don Hume x fem reader

wc: 2,900

tbitb masterlist

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️ : smut, little plot, mdni, minors get out right now, penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, overstimulation, Don denying his own orgasm, aftercare

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Don’s skin glimmers with sweat. His hair is wet and slicked back from his shower not even twenty minutes ago. His pants leaning into his forearms that prop him up over you. His hips roll gently, and he slides in and out of you irritatingly slow. 

“Don.” You whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek. He’s burning, face heavily blushed from the bridge of his nose and down his neck and chest, “need you to go harder.”

His eyes blink open, glancing over you agitated features. They travel down your sternum and stomach and catch on the desperate thrust of your hips to meet him. Instead of helping you out, he places a mean hand on your hip bone and pushes you down, holding you still. His pace does not change, arousal soaking the juncture of your bodies and poisoning the air. You whine at him and try to push against him but the only measured strain it takes to keep you down is the new flex in his bicep. “Just lay down and take what I give you—” 

“C’mon, Hume!”

“Faster, Hume!”

Bobby wouldn’t let him catch a break. Poor Don had been catching crabs all morning, his oar piercing the water at the wrong angle or the wrong time. Something was always wrong with him. 

“Don’t give me that shit, Donny! You can do better!”

“What is that form!”

He just needed to breathe for a second, get his feet under him. He could Joe angrily huffing behind him. Shorty groaning in frustration behind Joe. All Don could feel were their annoyed glares and the sting of their complaints. He was in the stroke seat, he could not afford to be off his game ever and yet there he was, floundering like an idiot. 

“Get it together, you’re slowing this boat down!”

“Pull that again and you’re outta that seat!”

He did not get better by the end of practice and the crew would not get off his case. They complained on the way to the locker room, inside the locker room, in the showers, on their way out of the shell house. Coach Ulbrickson couldn’t even give him the time of day, telling him “If you don’t have yourself sorted out by tomorrow, we’re gonna have problems.” As if Don hadn’t been told off enough. He fumbled through his routine, tuned out to half of what everyone was saying. He tugged on his jacket and then his shoes, not even bothering to tie the laces. 

At this point the crew was more concerned than they were angry. Don was quieter than usual. His face was long and sullen. His gaze distant.

“What’s wrong with Don?”

“What should we do about Don?”

“How can we help Don?”

On and on and he just wanted everyone to shut up and let him fix whatever problem he’s got. He left the locker room, his hair still dripping with the shower water. He found his way to your room without even thinking about, subconsciously knowing what he needed. 

“F-fuck! You feel too good.” His head dips, hair tickling your collarbone. Your hands tangle in the dark strands of hair at the at the back of his head, holding him close. His bare body moves rhythmically. Slow and steady and restrained. He just wants to feel you, prove to himself that he as control. You’d offered to ride him, let him rest his tired body but he flat out refused and shut you up with a kiss. “Just—I just—” As he trails off his pace slows even more. 

“Don! Don, please!”

You can’t handle this leisure fucking, you want him faster and harder. The drag of his cock through your drenched walls is lugging you to a harrowing climax. You feel that knot forming in the pit of your stomach. The broiling heat that electrocutes your veins and shocks your muscles. 

“Faster, faster, faster…”

But Don just doesn’t listen. His thrusts remain soft, and his pace still relaxed. It frustrates you to no end and the need curls painfully inside of you. You arch off the bed, straining against the hand pinning you to the mattress. Your hands latch onto his shoulders. You actually gain some leverage against him which allows you to buck your hips into his oncoming thrust. The excess force creates the most delicious sensation as his thick cock is stuffed further into your soaked pussy. 

“Hn—ngh!” Don’s lashes flutter and his brows draw tight, “Ha’ahfuck! Don’t do that.” The way you squeeze him makes his head spin. Not to mention the fact you’re now grinding back. Don reckons that the only way to keep you still is to drop his full weight onto you. 

That glorious feeling of finally getting that mind-tickling pleasure dies away has Don’s sweaty skin presses fully to yours. Chest to chest, you’re effectively trapped between him and the mattress. “No-no. Why won’t you let me,” his lips cover yours in a callous kiss. The taste of that mint gum he likes to chew spreads over your tongue as his licks into your mouth. Your teeth clack, noses knocking as he rips away your precious breath. Your hands rake down his freckled arms. His own rough hands chase them down and fill in the gaps between your fingers and jam them into the pillows. Aside from your legs, folded by his hips, you’re completely stuck. 

“Will you jus’ listen to me.” His lips abandon yours and he resumes his cold-hearted pace. 

Tears well in your eyes, blurring his facial features and strangling your throat. It softens Don up a little as he watches you begin to cry because it’s how he’s been feeling all day. Finding some sympathy, Don grants you a deeper, harder thrust. He feels your stomach spasm at the newfound sensation. Your insides churn and you toss your head back and moan. Don tucks his knees under you, lifting your pelvis onto his thighs and forcing you to spread your legs wider. You squeeze his hands and sob as he hits deeper. His cock head drags over your g-spot, that rough little patch inside you that makes you twitch, with each of his calculated thrusts. Slick paints your folds, squelching as he pulls out to the tip and then shoves all his length and girth back in. You’re speechless and squirming and totally helpless to his whims. 

“Better?” He plants a kiss on your tear-streaked cheekbone and nuzzles. 

You choke and moan again, but you don’t try to fight him. Instead, your toe curls and you twist. Your orgasm is building faster than he wanted but he figures he can just give you more. He feels the stress of the day melting away as he watches you slip into the mind-numbing pleasure he gives you. He does that. He does it perfectly and controlled and with excellent form. 

“That’s right. You fucking love this, don’t you? Love me and my dick.” 

You wail and shudder as your insides uncoil. He delivers one more measured stroke and you cum hard. Your curl into him as your muscles tense. Clutching onto his hands so tight the knuckles crack. He can’t even move his hips once your legs lock together behind him. The waves of your orgasm wash over you and your walls wring out wetness around him. He wants to cum too, so bad, but he forces his way out of your hold and lets his climax fizzle out before it can shred him.

You whimper at the loss of contact. Your eyes peel open to see him not far away, hovering over you and breathing deeply. His thumb finds your clit and draws circles around the under stimulated bud. “Why...” You can’t catch your breath. “Why did you not—”

“Don’t want this to be over just yet.” 

Don scoops you up and moves you towards the top of the bed. Your back rests against the headboard, a pillow jammed under your hips. He props your legs open and plants a few kisses on your sternum and ribcage before trailing down your belly. Your spasming, dripping core is fully exposed to him and he ravishes you with a ravenous tongue. 

The velvety muscle curls and licks around your clit. It moves fluidly through your folds and prods your clenching entrance. “Hnn, Don!” You’re sensitive and lightheaded and now he’s giving you more than you bargained for. 

He mouths at your core for a while, making an even bigger mess of you. Your fingers tug at his hair and grab at his shoulders but he cannot be coaxed away. His lips, bruised from your rough kiss, suck on your clit and drive you insane. He braces his hands on your thighs and dips his tongue into your hole. You shiver and grind against his mouth as he tongue-fucks your sensitive core. Each brush of his tongue along your walls makes your toes curl and your chest heave. You didn’t get a chance to really recover from the last orgasm he gave you and he’s already steadily working you towards another. 

His thumbs find the petal-soft labia and spreads your folds. You bawl. His tongue flattens out and draws over your exposed parts. Don is relentless in this, his coarse tastebuds relishing the sweetness at oozes out of your cunt. He licks from your clit to your hole, circles the tip just around the inside, then licks back to your clit. Don suckles at the bundle until your thighs shake before he allows his teeth to graze the swell of nerves. Slick and saliva drip down his chin even as he slurps down what he can. 

You chant his name, “Don. Don. Don—” desperate and horny.

His hand leaves your clammy thigh, a rough fingertip pressing on the edge of your hole. His mouth works your clit, a faint slurping filling the breaths between your noises. One long finger pushes in. Then a second. Two rugged digits stroke your pussy and make you squirm. “Fuck Don, fucking—hell!” He can barely hear you cursing he’s so immersed. When you’re not looking at him buried between your thighs or studying the back of your eyelids, you’re watching his hips hump the comforter and sheets. 

Freckles like constellations dot his sinuous back. The pointed ridge of his spine divides the expanse of muscle. He’s tense. Still bothered by whatever has gotten into him today. He digs his fingers into that sore spongy g-spot and you writhe. Pleasure radiates from your overwhelmed core. The next high approaches fast as an avalanche. He works a third finger into you and it’s over. You go completely rigid as you cum again, gushing around his fingers. 

“That’s it, makin’ such a mess.” Don smirks, lips shining with cum.

You think he’s finished when his mouth leaves your cunt and lunges into a sloppy kiss, but then his fingers drag through your folds and pinch your clit. You jolt and keen, still fighting through the aftershocks of the last orgasm, and now he’s belligerently overstimulating that sensitive bud. You can’t get a word in with his tongue down your throat either, all you can do his clutch at him and whimper.

Once your lungs are exhausted of air, his mouth pops off your lips and he wedges himself between your thighs. “Stop trying to close your legs.” 

“Please—it’s so—f-fuck-ing—I can’t!”

“You can take it.”

His fingers rub fast, slicked up by your cum. He catches your clit between his digits and pinches again; it’s just enough pressure to border on pain. He bullies you against the headboard and steals your words away again. You try to kiss him back only to pant into his grin as you begin to wheeze. You don’t know what to do with your hands. Your blood is boiling, body spasming, your mind blank. Your third orgasm hits just as hard as the first two, making you cry out. He eases you down and pulls you back down the bed. He falls into place behind you and lifts one of your tired legs.

“Don, I can’t.”

“Give me one more, one more.” He promises, arm wrapping protectively around you. Your body feels like lead as the arm curled around you props your leg up. The other disappears and then promptly reappears with his cock pinched between his fingers. He pushes the tip through your folds and collects your slick. He’s already drenched in precum, a wet spot on the sheets from where he was grinding.  “Can you do that for me?” He rests the tip against your weeping hole, waiting for you to reply. “Need you to talk to me, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, I—yes,”

He nudges the tip in and gently works his way back in. He’s long and thick and well aware that he’s a lot to take whether or not he was just inside you minutes ago. But he’s going too slow, that same stupid pace that drove you nuts earlier. 

“Not again, Don, please not a-again!” Fat tears drop across the bridge of your nose as you slump against him.

Don’s free hand soothes you, “Shh, don’t worry, just don’t want to hurt you.” Upon your distressed whines he begins to fuck, hard and fast. He rests his cheek on your temple and rolls his hips as fast as he can while still pushing deep. You go alarmingly silent, and gun grabs ahold of your chin. “Hey, hey, you okay?” 

“Hnnn!” 

You clench and his pattern falters, he’s painfully hard and hungry for release but you must cum first. You raise up on one elbow; Don follows and slips his arm through the newly formed crevice. His fingers find the pert pink but that is your nipple and trace around it. He flicks it back and forth and eventually pinches it between his index and thumb. A drawn-out cry leaves your drooling lips. Don’s free hand finds lifted knee and he hoists it even higher and rolls his hips harder. 

“Oh—” your head falls back, and Don pecks your temple. “I-hah-have to…gonna cum.”

“Yeah?”

Don fucks you so hard the bed creaks and mattress shifts, his skin slaps against yours and leaves behind a sharp sting. His leftover frustration bubbles up and takes over. He’s absolutely savage in giving you your last climax. Broken moans tumble out of his lips as your pussy constricts around him. You suck up empty breaths and Don knows you’re close. He drapes your suspended leg over his hip and reaches for your clit. He musters up enough coordination to find his way through the mess and stroke the aggravated organ. He feels where his cock has stretched you and lets out the most guttural groan as he pinches his throbbing cock between his fingers. 

Black spots obscure your vision as you cum. You thrash and collapse into him, “I got you. I got you. I’m right here.” He whispers into your ear as you cream around him. He takes it for as long as he can withstand, wanting to help you ride out your high, but when the dam bursts he has to pull out and roll onto his back. He strokes himself from balls to tip once, twice, before his insides are racked with his delayed orgasm, and he spills creamy white semen all over his stomach. He pulls you close, rubbing your tummy with the hand still tucked under you. 

“You alright?” He partially sits up and brushes back your hair. Sweat has beaded on your forehead and your eyes have shut tight. He jostles your shoulder until you nod. “Good, let me clean you up.” 

He climbs off the mattress and crosses the room on his shaky legs. He draws a warm bath, adding some bubbles to it before scooping you up setting you in the tub. “Are you okay, Donny?” Your eyes open just a hair and kiss his hand. The blisters and callouses hurt your heart. 

“I am now.” He returns the kiss to your nose before turning to analyze the state of your room. The mattress is damn near falling off the bedframe and the sheets have somehow been tugged from the corner. He lugs the mattress back onto the frame and replaces the sheets. He scrubs his cum off his belly then he’s climbing into the bath with you. The hot water eases the soreness in his whole body. 

You soak together, billing and cooing about the day. Don lets it slip about practice and you snort. “That’s what this has been about?” 

“Hey, now,” A smile plays at his lips as you tease.

You swat him, “Don’t even play innocent. Not after what you just did.” 

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m only teasing, Donny, I’m good.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, you worry wart.” You kiss his tender lips. He cleans you with soap and and washes your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. For a while you rest your head on his chest. Until your eyelids become heavy and you’re in danger of falling asleep in the bathtub. Don helps you out of the tub and into some pjs before he’s ushering you into bed. “You should stay.”

“You want me to?”

“You ask too many questions, Don, get in.” He slips in and nestles himself against you. He’s still bare, knowing he’ll get too hot in his sleep and also knowing what he’ll be like in the morning. The only reason her got you dressed was for the soul purpose and privilege of undressing you later. But that’s for the morning and for now he just wants to cuddle up and sleep off a long day. 

...

Dear reader,

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[sixlane]

Give it up

Jegulus microfic | 1.1k words | Mr & Mrs Smith au pt. 3 | pt. 1, pt. 2

“You fucked the whole thing up, James!” Regulus yells, angrily putting plates in the dishwasher.

“Love, they were five seconds from sticking that gun in your mouth and pulling the trigger. What would you have me do?”

These screaming matches aren’t out of the ordinary for them recently. They usually make a good team, but sometimes their methods of handling missions are a little too different. Regulus will say James doesn’t take enough risks, James will say Regulus is reckless with his life, they’ll fight but agree to leave it behind them by morning. James doesn’t want to leave it behind them anymore.

“Nothing! I had it under control!” Regulus is gesticulating dramatically, too lost in himself to bother controlling his arms. 

“That did not look like having it under control. You were blindfolded and bound to a fucking chair!” 

“I had them right where I wanted them. Stupid men will tell you all their secrets if they think you’re dead anyway.” Regulus turns the sink on its hottest level and begins furiously scrubbing at a pot from the stove.

“He wasn’t ever going to talk, Regulus, you have to realize that. He was just playing with his fucking food!” 

James doesn’t think he’s ever been more angry. The mission had been going well. They were playing off each other perfectly, so in sync it was exhilarating, until Regulus went and got himself kidnapped, telling James “trust me” and “I can get more out of this guy just give me an hour.” It had only taken James 15 minutes to find his location and kill everyone who had even looked at Regulus wrong.

“Don’t fucking condescend me like that. I knew what I was doing. Why can’t you ever do as you’re fucking told?” Regulus drops the pot into the sink and turns around, staring at James with a wild look. God he’s beautiful when he’s angry.

“Because you’re not in charge! We’re supposed to be a team, Regulus. The mission was over, we got we needed and you still wanted to risk your life for more. There was no point!”

“It’s called being good at your job, James. Maybe you should try it sometime.” 

James rolls his eyes. “Oh don’t give me that shit, you do remember I have more kills than you, right? Says it right there on the fridge.” James points to the alphabet magnets they stuck up there a few months ago. It’s a game they’ve been playing. Keeping track of who has more so at the end of each month the loser has to take the winner out on a date. Well, James has been calling them dates. Regulus prefers to call them “work dinners.” 

“How could I forget? You’ve been rubbing it in for the last three months in a row you arrogant fucking asshole!”

“Aw love don’t get jealous. I’ll let you win next month if you want. Take you someplace real nice.” The sarcasm is heavy in James’ voice as he leans on the island with both hands. Regulus’ eyes briefly focus on his forearms before he turns back to the sink, taking his anger out on the pot again.

“You’re fucking impossible,” he says. “I’m done with this conversation.”

“No you’re not.” James says, coming around the island to stand next to Regulus. “No more ignoring this, Regulus, we have a problem, let's fix it like adults.”

Regulus drops the pot again and turns off the water, taking a deep breath. “Fine.”

James takes that as his cue to speak. “You hate not having control. You hate to admit you’re wrong and you hate when I have to save you.” He can see Regulus’ face getting hotter with each word.

“Okay, we’re doing this. How about you?” Regulus shoves a finger into James’ chest. “You can’t stand it when I’m right. You hate when I take risks and they pan out and you hate that the agency values me more because of it.”

James swats his hand away, starts closing in. “Fuck the angency, they don’t matter.”

“They do matter, James. They’re everything!” Regulus is yelling again.

“Not to me!”

“Then why are you even here?”

“For you!” Regulus stops, mouth hanging open. “If it weren’t for you I would’ve packed it up a long time ago, but you matter to me, Regulus. You matter to me more than the missions or the money. I am here for you!”

“James—”

“No, don't tell me this is strictly professional or that we’re just partners because it’s been more than that for a long time and you know it.”

“I—” He’s staring at James with giant gray eyes, mouth opening and closing around words that won’t come.

“Just have me, Regulus. I’m already yours, anyway.”

 “You fucking asshole,” Regulus whispers around what could be a sob. James can’t tell because Regulus’ fingers are in his hair, pulling him down until their lips clash.

It’s chaste, but intense. Their mouths stay closed but they press into each other like there’s nowhere else they could possibly be.

After a minute, Regulus pulls back slightly, breathing in short bursts. He is crying, James realizes as he feels the wetness on his own face.

“Regulus,” James tries, bringing his hands to cradle the other man’s face.

“Shut up,” He returns, kissing James again, but with something new. Something hungry. He kisses James like a man starved and James doesn’t let a second of it go to waste.

He lifts Regulus off the ground and deposits him on the island, standing in between his legs and urging Regulus to wrap them around him. He slots his hands under Regulus’ shirt and traces his spine, like Regulus did to him all those months before.

Regulus gasps, needy as James moves down his neck, alternating between sharp teeth and soothing tongue. Savoring the places Regulus has kept hidden from him all this time. 

Regulus detaches James briefly to take off his shirt, dropping it to the floor, before moving James’ head down to his chest, where James realizes for the first time that he has a small tattoo of a star on his left pectoral. He kisses it gently, then runs his tongue around a peaked nipple, earning a whine from Regulus, who has his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches intently, like he’ll forget if he doesn’t record every second. 

James makes a mess of his chest, covering it in bruises and spit. When he’s happy with his work and Regulus is a wordless mess, he lifts him off the counter, opting to finish him off in the bedroom.

On soft sheets, Regulus lets James show him all the ways he matters. By the end of the night, James makes sure he believes in them.

[harrysfolklore]

four angsty scenarios with boyfriend!harry - headcanon

you give him the silent treatment

you and harry have good communication as a couple, always talking about your feelings and the things that bother you, so when he says something that hurt you and you decide to just not talk to him, he feels frustrated.

he absolutely hates when you shut him out, he knows you’re upset at him and wants to make it better, but he can’t if you won’t speak to him

“come on, darling. we always talk about our feelings, tell me what it is that made you upset and i’ll fix it, if there’s something that i need to apologize for i need to know”

his tone is definitely frustrated, even tho he’s getting upset himself, he doesn’t stop using pet names with you

you just keep ignoring him through the day and harry’s frustration grows, to the point where he stops trying to get you to talk to him and the house is just quiet

when it’s time for you both to go to bed he just can’t stand it anymore and he’s determined to get you to talk to him

“come on, love. i’ve been patient with you but you need to tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it. we never go to bed angry, that’s not us”

and you end up talking everything through, he listens to how you feel and you listen to him as well, reminding each other that you’re a team

harry is jealous

you were oblivious to the guy shamelessly flirting with you, thinking he was just a very friendly person who wanted to have a chat

but harry notices his intentions, and he’s absolutely angry, not only because a random guy at a party was flirting with his girlfriend, but also because she doesn’t seem bothered by it and almost even leads him on

he knows you love him, and he never questions your loyalty, he also knows that the man just looks foolish because at the end of the day you’re going home to him, but he’s still angry

“if you’re done flirting with that bloke, i would like to head home, i’ll be waiting in the car” he tells you with a serious tone, not waiting for you to reply and walking out of the club, leaving you frozen at your spot

when you finally reach the car after grabbing your coat, the first thing that leaves your mouth is a “what the fuck was that?”

and he just gives you a cold stare that sends shivers down your spine, and that’s when you knew you fucked up

“the dude was flirting with you all night and you never stopped him, hell you even batted your eyelashes at him, and i was there looking like a complete idiot”

that’s when it hits you, and even tho you felt like you couldn’t apologize enough, you still did it all the way to your shared home, harry only giving you a “i don’t want to talk right now” and going straight to bed

when you got in bed next to him, you apologized again, hugged him from the back and kissed his neck multiple times, he was still upset but he held your hand nevertheless, you knew you would fix this in the morning

harry leaves the house during an argument

it was a very very heated argument, so many hurtful words were said and you've been yelling for hours, something that rarely ever happened between the two of you

harry was beyond frustrated, his hair almost falling out because of the amount of times he ran his hands through it harshly

you, on the other hand, your eyes were red and your chest hurt from all your crying, you hated confrontation and you hated arguing with him

"i'm done with is, if you're not compromised with this relationship as i am, then maybe we should wonder if it's even worth it to be together" and with that, he was out of the house, not even giving you the chance to ask him to stay, and your heart broke in a million pieces

you sat at the bottom of the stairs and sobbed, all kind of scenarios running through your head, but the one that hurt the most was harry leaving you because of stupid commitment issues

an hour later he arrived back to the house, and when he found you in that state, his own heart broke and all he could do was hold you close

"i thought you were leaving me" "it's okay baby, i'm not leaving i just needed to clear my head, we're okay, we're going to talk this through"

harry forgets about your date night

you were eagerly waiting for tonight, you boyfriend finally agreed on going out on a date after so many busy months were you just couldn't fine the time to do it

but as you sat in your kitchen counter, with make up on, hair done and a nice dress, realizing that harry completely forgot you guys were supposed to go out, you felt stupid

you waited for him to arrive home, with a glass of wine in your hand and the coldest look you could put on your face, you wanted him to feel bad that he stood you up

"hey honey, you look gorgeous but what's the occa- shit!" was what left his mouth when he saw you, realizing that he fucked up

he had been so caught up in the studio, too focused on writing down melodies and lyrics that he forgot that he was supposed to take his girlfriend out for dinner, and he felt horrible for that

"look baby, i'm sorry, i lost track of time but i'll make it up for you, i swear" he pleaded "don't. i don't want to hear it now, just take the couch and we can talk in the morning"

and harry almost wanted to cry as he laid on the cold couch, he knew he had a lot of amends to make in the morning

this is my first time writing angst so please give me your feedback !! i hope you like this <3

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[flamingo-writes]

What would you think if Hobie asks reader to cut the ends of his hair that bother him because of the mask and while she was doing it, she sang a nice song to him, meanwhile some little flowers began to bloom around them.

Really like the last post and this came to my mind immediately.

Listen, I’ve been daydreaming of this the entire day. I think this idea was very cute!

Also, little disclaimer: I was born and raised in Mexico, so, I’m very unfamiliar with how black people’s hair works. I know culturally it has a lot of importance, but other than that I knew very little of the different types of hair and ofc the insane variety of treatments and proper care as well as the different ways to give maintenance to different kinds of dreads. Also, as someone who has had very short hair for 2/3 of my life, as well as shaving my own head for the better part of the last 4 (5?) years, in general hair care and routines are something I’m wildly unfamiliar with, the longest I had my hair in the latest years was a 6 inch or so Mohawk I grew two years ago. Hobie has been a very good opportunity for me to educate myself a lot in hair (especially black people’s hair) and I spent a good portion of my evening watching videos/TikTok’s and reading on dreadlocks and their maintenance. If I wrote something inaccurate or wrong, please let me know, help me see my mistake, and I will fix it as soon as I can.

This came from this other request, I’m thinking of turning into a series.

Flower Bed — Hobie x Reader

Also, you said little flowers, but my brain decided to go for a full flower bed 😭 I hope you like this!

Warnings: none.

“Oí, luv…” Hobie said walking out of the bedroom, looking around you.

“Bathroom!” You shouted as he followed your voice, noticing the bathroom door opened and you kneeling by the shower.

Plants cramped in the shower as you watered them.

“Oh, never mind, you’re busy” He said.

“I’m almost done. I just need to water the ones in the kitchen sink and the monsteras…” You said as you’d todo up and stretched your back. “I’ll be done in ten minutes, what’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you if you could help me trim my hair, it’s starting to get long and gets stuck in the mask and, you know…” He asked softly. “But I can’t see the back of my head,”

“Sure, I’ll help you,” You said giving Hobie a kind smile.

He smiled back, walking up to you and kissing your forehead.

“Need help with the plants?”

“As you wish,” You replied happily. “You were asleep earlier and didn’t want to wake you, so I started watering them on my own…”

“I’m awake now,” He said. “I’ll water the monsteras,”

“Thank you, babe,” You purred.

By the time you were done with the plants, you went ahead and started helping Hobie out. You sat on the edge of your bed, as he sat on the floor. Since Hobie was tall, this was the most comfortable arrangement. It wasn’t also the first time you trimmed his wicks. He asked you to help him every few months.

As you put some soft music in the background, you got started, trimming dread by dread. Taking care to cut the hair while keeping the end of the dread rounded. Cutting just across each wick was already hard as they were thick, but you also wanted to keep them looking nice and rounded. Which was also a reason why Hobie asked you for help. You did a much better job at it than him.

Even when he didn’t admit it, or didn’t look like it, every single detail in his appearance was planned. Especially his hair. He liked taking care of it, and over all treated his hair like this very intimate thing, he hated having other people touching his hair. Except you. He actually loved it when you touched his hair, ran your hands through it, your fingers disappearing between the dreads. And the particular care and dedication which which you seemed to tend to every wick.

Deep in your concentration, watching over the little details, you were unconsciously singing. Something you also did quite a lot. When you were deeply focused on something, you’d start humming and eventually singing. Which only added to the relaxing time Hobie was having.

Between your gentle hands running through his hair, and now the soft sound of your voice singing in a low voice, going along with the music. Hobie lived for these little peaceful moments, making him feel absolutely contempt with his life. These little moments were everything to him.

As he had his eyes closed, focusing on every brought of your touch against him, he didn’t notice at first the plants growing around you.

It wasn’t plain on obvious. In fact, Hobie didn’t notice until he felt something tickling his elbows. He opened his eyes and saw flowers growing out of the floor, tiny plants growing buds and flowering. All in a matter of several seconds. And you continue to sing, concentrated. He blinked several times, wondering if you were aware of what you were doing, as he kept staring at the flowers growing and multiplying, coming out of the wooden floor tiles.

“Uh, luv?” Hobie asked in a low deep voice.

“Hm?” You hummed, answering Hobie’s question, sounding way too focused in your job as you were rounding one of the last wicks.

“Are you aware of the fact that you pretty much brought spring into our bedroom?”

“Huh?” You asked confused, breaking your hyper focus and looked around, noticing the flowers covering almost the entirety of your floor. White, red, lilac, and pink flowers, extending across your small bedroom. “Fuck,”

Hobie laughed softly.

“You didn’t notice?”

“N-no…” You whispered softly.

“That’s amazing…” Hobie sighed. “It’s beautiful, by the way…”

“The thing is I don’t know how to…un-grow them…And they’re a lot…” You said softly, the concern building in your voice, making Hobie chuckle. “What are we going to do with all of them?”

“We can always collect them and sell them or whatever, you know?” Hobie chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

“In the meantime, we can always enjoy this beautiful scene, what do you say?”

“You’re way too calm for someone who has his bedroom full of flowers…”

“You made them. They’re beautiful. I don’t see the issue, basically a work of art,” He said looking at you over his shoulder, as you rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“Hobie, pollen give you allergies,”

“Sleeping on a flower bed one night isn’t going to kill me,” He pointed out. “Besides, ever since the spider thing, I get less allergies from flowers,” He said lifting a finger up, making you chuckle.

“Fine! You win this argument!” You chuckled.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I love you too”

“That’s why I don’t mind the flowers. Because you made them,”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Hobie’s cheek before you continued tending to the last two wicks.

“Thank you,” You said.

“For what?”

“Being you,” You sighed. “I’m not precisely fascinated with all the flowers in the bedroom, but the fact that you are, makes me feel better”

“Why, you’re welcome, sweet’eart. Thank you for helping me with my hair,” He said looking at you and giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Anytime,”