#mask chime!! these are so cool

[niinnyu]

I just LOVE how expressive Iguin is in the trailer. No dialogue, no subtitles, no facial expressions. Just pure body language and animation style.

I'm totally normal about it.

[tamaharu]

some rough designs for my traitor!sumire au! nobody should ever let me near a drawing tablet ever again.

[its-avalon-08]

This is something i have been thinking of. Lando Norris x Sainz!sister. Essentially, both of them are friends with benefits, but they both like eachother more. But Lando makes it seem like he is super casual. So when Y/N asks Lando if he wants to go out for dinner and he says "we arent dating i dont owe you that " and goes with another girl to a club, Y/N is super hurt and is crying in carlos's arms who confronts lando and punches him. happy ending pls

look me in the eyes and tell me how you feel (ln4)

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monaco shimmered under the twilight, a playground for the rich and the reckless. lando norris, ever the showman, weaved through the throngs of fans at a yacht party, a mischievous glint in his eyes. his gaze, however, kept flitting towards a balcony bathed in soft light. there, y/n sainz, carlos's younger sister, leaned against the railing, her laughter like wind chimes.

lando and y/n had a… complicated arrangement. stolen kisses in motorhomes, tangled limbs in hotel rooms, whispered promises that morphed into playful banter the next morning. it was a delicious dance, fueled by adrenaline and undeniable chemistry. but lando, a master of deflecting emotions with a goofy grin, kept it firmly in the realm of casual. he couldn't risk messing things up with carlos, his teammate and closest friend.

the party thrummed with music. y/n, catching his eye, blew him a kiss, a playful challenge in her smile. a thrill shot through lando, warring with the voice of his carefully constructed facade. he sauntered over to a group of models, his trademark grin plastered on. a blonde beauty, all curves and confidence, latched onto his arm.

"hey, lando, fancy a drink?" she purred.

lando, internally cringing, forced a laugh. "sure thing, love." his peripheral vision caught y/n stiffen, a flicker of hurt crossing her features before she masked it with a dazzling smile for a group of friends.

later that night, as the party wound down, y/n approached lando, her usual vibrancy dimmed. "hey, you wanna grab dinner sometime this week?"

lando, caught off guard, fumbled for his usual playful response. "uh, y/n, you know the deal, right? we're not exactly...dating." he winced at the sting in his own voice.

y/n's smile faltered. "yeah, i guess i just…" she trailed off, disappointment clouding her eyes. "never mind. have fun tonight."

lando watched her walk away, a cold knot clenching his stomach. he hated himself for playing it cool, but the fear of ruining their friendship, of losing carlos, held him captive.

he spotted y/n leaving with another guy, a forced smile plastered on her face. jealousy, a green-eyed monster he'd never acknowledged before, roared to life. he spent the rest of the night drowning his turmoil in champagne, a hollow feeling gnawing at him.

rain lashed against the motorhome windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside y/n. curled up on a bunk, she hugged her knees to her chest, body wracked with silent sobs. the memory of lando's flippant "we aren't dating" echoed in her ears, a cruel reminder of their confusing situation.

a creak on the stairs alerted her. before she could wipe away the tears, the door swung open and carlos's concerned face appeared. "y/n? what's wrong?"

he rushed to her side, his presence a familiar comfort. all pretense melted away as y/n threw herself into his arms, the dam breaking with a fresh torrent of tears. carlos held her tight, his jaw clenched, a storm brewing within him that rivaled the one outside.

"he…lando…we…" y/n hiccupped between sobs, unable to form a coherent sentence.

carlos understood. his sister, usually a ball of sunshine, was a shattered mess. he rubbed her back soothingly, letting the tears flow until they subsided into sniffles.

"talk to me, hermanita," carlos said softly, using their childhood nickname for 'little sister.' "did he…did he hurt you?"

shame burned in y/n's cheeks, but she knew she couldn't keep it from carlos. "we aren't…dating, he says. just…fun. but it doesn't feel that way to me, carlos. i care about him, a lot."

carlos felt a familiar pang of protectiveness. he'd seen the way lando looked at y/n sometimes, the way a stolen glance lingered a beat too long. the frustrating thing was, lando clearly felt something too, yet his fear held him back.

"he's an idiot," carlos muttered, the words laced with anger and affection in equal measure. "but you deserve better than being kept in some emotional limbo, y/n."

y/n wiped at her remaining tears, her voice laced with a newfound determination. "i know. i just…i thought there was something there. we laugh together, we…" she trailed off, a blush creeping up her neck. "it doesn't feel casual, carlos."

carlos chuckled dryly. "trust me, i know. you practically glow whenever you're around him." he wrapped her in another hug. "but listen, sometimes guys, especially lando, can be dense as bricks when it comes to feelings."

y/n snorted, a faint smile playing on her lips. "thanks for the vote of confidence in our resident goofball."

carlos pulled back, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek. "look, you need to talk to him, y/n. tell him how you feel. and if he can't meet you halfway…"

he left the sentence unfinished, but y/n knew what he meant. "yeah, i know."

a beat of silence followed, broken only by the drumming rain. "but what if he doesn't feel the same?" y/n's voice hitched slightly.

carlos squeezed her hand. "then he's the one missing out. you, y/n, are amazing. funny, smart, and strong. he'd be a fool to let you go."

y/n looked up at him, a flicker of hope rekindled in her eyes. "really?"

carlos grinned, his usual mischievous glint returning. "absolutely. now, are you up for some revenge ice cream? we can trash lando's favorite video game while we eat it."

y/n laughed, a genuine, full-bodied laugh that filled the small space. "you're the best brother ever, carlos."

"that's what brothers are for," he said, pulling her into another hug. "now, let's get that ice cream and show lando what he's missing."

the next morning, lando found carlos pacing furiously in their shared motorhome. before he could stammer an explanation, carlos launched into a tirade.

"lando, what the hell did you do to y/n?"

the truth tumbled out, a torrent of guilt and frustration. as lando confessed his tangled feelings, carlos listened, his face a mask of conflicting emotions.

"you idiot!" carlos finally roared, landing a solid punch on lando's jaw. "she's been crazy about you for months!"

the pain in his jaw was nothing compared to the dawning realization. lando understood in that moment just how badly he'd messed up.

meanwhile, y/n, teary-eyed, sought solace in carlos's embrace. he listened patiently, his heart aching for his sister. as she sobbed about the confusing, one-sided nature of her relationship with lando, carlos knew it was time for a little brotherly intervention.

lando, bruised and shaken, confronted y/n later that day. he poured his heart out, confessing his fear of losing her and carlos. y/n, hesitant at first, listened, her own vulnerability peeking through.

"lando," she said softly, "we could have talked about it. you could have trusted me."

y/n sniffled, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down her cheek. lando sat beside her on the motorhome couch, his heart heavy with regret. the balcony overlooking the glistening monaco harbor, once a backdrop for stolen kisses, now felt cold and empty.

"i just...don't understand," y/n said, her voice small. "why can't it be more?"

lando reached out, his hand hovering over hers before retreating. "it's me, y/n. i messed up. royally." shame burned in his throat.

"why? you like me, don't you?" she looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

he took a deep breath. "like you? y/n, i…" he swallowed hard. "i'm terrified i'll lose you."

"lose me? how?"

"carlos," he confessed, the name catching in his throat. "he's my brother, my best friend. the thought of messing that up…"

y/n's brow furrowed. "so you'd rather keep things…casual…than risk our friendship?"

lando winced. "it sounds stupid when you say it out loud."

"it does," she agreed, a faint spark of anger flickering in her eyes. "because it is, lando."

he looked away, guilt gnawing at him. "i know. i'm an idiot."

silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. finally, y/n spoke, her voice stronger now. "fear shouldn't dictate our happiness, lando. not mine, not yours."

he finally met her gaze, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. "you wouldn't…walk away?"

she shook her head, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "not if you're willing to take a chance, scaredy-cat."

lando's lips curved into a genuine grin. "alright then, fearless leader. let's see where this crazy thing takes us." he reached for her hand this time, his grip firm and warm. "together."

tears welled up in lando's eyes. "i will, y/n. from now on, nothing but the truth."

and that's how it began. a real, honest relationship built on shared laughter, late-night talks that stretched into sunrise, and a fierce, protective love. the paddock buzzed with speculation, but lando and y/n reveled in their newfound happiness. they were a force to be reckoned with on the track, and even more so off it, their playful banter now laced with a deeper affection.

one warm evening, after a podium finish for lando, they found themselves on the balcony of that same monaco yacht party. this time, y/n leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, a comfortable silence settling between them.

"next time," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "dinner's on you. no excuses."

lando chuckled, pulling her closer. "wouldn't have it any other way." he knew, with a certainty that warmed him from the inside out, that this was more than just a delicious dance. it was a love story waiting to be written, and they were finally holding the pen.

news of their relationship spread like wildfire through the f1 circus. fans, initially surprised, warmed to the genuine connection between the young couple. lando's playful side, usually reserved for post-race interviews, found its way onto the podium, fueled by y/n's infectious laughter in the crowd.

their relationship wasn't without its challenges. there were jealous rivals, intrusive media, and the ever-present pressure of the racing world. but they faced it all together, a united front. y/n became lando's rock, his fierce supporter and confidante. he, in turn, was her biggest cheerleader, celebrating her triumphs, big and small.

their love story wasn't a fairy tale. there were arguments, late nights fueled by strategy and debriefs, and the occasional prank war between y/n and carlos (much to lando's amusement and slight annoyance). but through it all, their bond grew stronger.

one rainy weekend, cuddled up in their motorhome, lando surprised y/n with a small box. inside, nestled on velvet, was a delicate necklace. the pendant held a tiny silver replica of a helmet, engraved with "y/n" and their nicknames for each other. tears welled up in her eyes.

"it's perfect, lando," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

he pulled her close, his voice a low rumble. "just like you, y/n."

years passed, and their love story continued to unfold on and off the track. they supported each other through victories and defeats, podium finishes and heartbreaking crashes. they built a life together, filled with laughter, love, and the thrill of competition.

one sunny day, on the podium at monza, lando stood victorious, champagne spraying in the air. but his eyes were fixed on y/n, standing in the team garage, a radiant smile lighting up her face. he blew her a kiss, a silent promise whispered on the wind.

their love story, born under the glittering lights of monaco, had become a legend whispered through the grandstands of every formula one circuit. it was a testament to the power of vulnerability, the courage to face fears, and the unwavering belief that sometimes, the most exhilarating race is the one for love.

[arminsumi]

hellooo to you, i’d like a suguru pls, post premature death suguru meeting a ‘monkey’ that he falls in love with, hence he have another reflection.. maybe jujutsu sorcerers’ job is indeed to protect them..

CHANGE OF HEART.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: idk how 3.4k words happened 🤷‍♀️ i just got rlly into this idea ty for your requesttt!! and i'm so sorry if u didn't want smut but the scene kinda just happened 😭 it's pretty vanilla tho i think?? i put a little forewarning before the scene just in case u strictly don't want to read it

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Meeting you challenges the beliefs he thought he was so sure of. Unexpectedly falling in love with a 'monkey' causes Geto Suguru to have a change of heart.

WARNINGS — not proofread 😵‍💫 angst, 1 smut scene, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u

SMUT WARNINGS — solo scene in the shower, Geto fantasizing about you (bj, creampies)

WORDCOUNT ≈ 3.4k

PLAY ME ♪ black beauty

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

A question that springs to Geto Suguru’s mind when he meets you is where have you been all my life? Because if he would have met you sooner, his beliefs wouldn’t have solidified.

You’re talking animatedly about your passions over a steaming beverage, sitting opposite this dark-haired man. His features are brooding and he’s rather unapproachable, or so he thinks – but you find gentleness and calmness in his face; the way his brows have a subtle, sad arch to them, the way the sharpness of his eyes contrasts beautifully to the softness of his cheeks. He’s always loathed his beady eyes and babyish cheeks, so it’s a pleasant shock to hear you flippantly compliment them.

“Why did you come to sit with me?” he asks curiously, fingertip caressing the rim of the ceramic coffee cup.

You think for a second, then speak your mind, “You looked approachable.”

Such an unexpected response. He’s intrigued. How could you possibly think he is approachable? He’s sure that if you’d known what he’s done, you’d never say that – you’d never sit for coffee with him at this cafe.

“Am I?” he tilts his head at you in response, “That’s a first. Lots of people in my life have told me that I’m unapproachable. And they avoid me.”

“How could anyone avoid you! You’re very – well, sorry if this sounds too forward – but you’re very alluring.”

Suguru arches his brow. Another unexpected response. You’re captivating him the more you speak.

“Thank you.” He responds earnestly, cool soft voice wafting through your chest, “Though that is quite forward.”

He wonders if his subtle teasing tone gets through to you. Your coy smile tells him that it did. He seems very captivated now, his abyssal black eyes are absorbing your features like they’re an artful masterpiece, like an Edo period piece of work that one can’t stop looking at admiringly.

Just when he feels his intrigue and curiosity for you reach its peak, he recoils; he completely shells himself, as if he was ashamed to have let himself become to enraptured by one of them.

There’s a long silence, you don’t notice that his opinion of you has shifted, you don’t even notice the slight scowl tugging at the corners of his lips. Because he masks it well.

“I have to be somewhere.” He excuses vaguely – it’s not uncommon to hear that from someone, so you don’t think much of it.

When talking with you for the past two hours, he seemed so appreciative that you sat with him and held good conversation, so you expected someone as direct as him to voice his thanks. A small thanks for having coffee with me, or a flippant thanks for sitting with me – nothing of the sort comes out of his mouth as he stands to leave.

You notice he only drank a sip of his black coffee this whole time. He must have been very captivated indeed, to not even enjoy his beverage.

It would have been easier to keep thoughts of you at bay had you not said goodbye to him as he left. Hearing your voice chime in his ear casts a spell over his mind.

He walks with his hands sunk deep in his pockets and heads to the subway station. Hesitant footsteps slow at the street where he said his last goodbye to his best friend just a few days ago. For a fleeting moment, Suguru is grateful for the resurgence of that tragic memory, because at least it drove you out of his mind.

But it is indeed just a fleeting moment, because once he descends into the subway station, his mind is refilled with thoughts of you. Your hair color. Your skin color. Your eye color. The clothes you wore. The scent lingering on them. The way you talked. How you spoke to him kindlier than anyone from the world outside Jujutsu High ever has. All he’s known before you is coldness and apprehensiveness.

He wonders, as he boards the train, if you would behave differently knowing that he’s a sorcerer. Knowing that he sees things as morbid as curses with his bare eyes. Knowing that he’s laid waste to a village of people. Knowing that he’s one of the strongest people in the world, and probably the strongest you’ll ever meet in your lifetime – unless you happen to come across Gojo Satoru someday.

He could kill you with a flick of his wrist if he wanted to.

As the train doors shudder shut behind him and he holds onto the dangling handles, he mutters a small “damn it…” under his breath. Because behind those eyes are waning beliefs, ones he was so sure about before you came along.

Suguru’s still thinking about you when he boards off the train and returns home to his apartment at nightfall. The rustling of the key in the door stirs the attention of his two little girls, and once it swings open, they burst with excitement at his arrival.

“We missed you!” they say almost in perfect harmony together.

“Missed you too, angels. Let’s get dinner cooking, hm? Mimiko, why do you have paint all over your cheeks? Ah – Nanako, no more painting for you. Yes, I’m making the rules. Treat your sister nicely and you can paint again.”

Suguru’s mind is temporarily cleared of you – but only temporarily, while he’s scrambling for ingredients around the tiny kitchen and patiently listening to childish chitchat. “No jumping in the kitchen – here, I’ll put you on the countertop – and uppp you go – stay there – Nanako, please don’t eat raw butter, it’s not funny. Give it here. Will you help me please?”

Soon there’s a simmering pot of food on the kotatsu table. There’s a storm coming, the girls cling to Suguru’s legs when he’s doing the dishes. “It’s just a thunderstorm coming, nothing to be afraid of, okay? Yes, I’ll read you to sleep. Nanako, please don’t bite my leg, it’s not funny – Mimiko don’t imitate your sister. Ah you two…”

He has the voice of a stressed-out father.

Droplets of soapy water drip off plates in the drying rack. Thunder rumbles outside the window. The wind swerving into the apartment’s living room feels cold when Suguru emerges from the girl’s bedroom – he heaves a sigh of relief knowing that they ate well and fell asleep soundly.

And it’s so cold in that apartment now.

She would be the warmth in the room.

It’s quiet, too.

Her voice would carry through this hallway like a serenade.

Suguru creeps into the shower, tripping on something the kids left laying around on his way to the bathroom.

⚠️ smut scene in case u want to skip

The drone of shower water fills his ears, he slowly peels off his sweater, giving a glance at the reflection of his physique in the body-length mirror. He’s never looked at his body with so much thought before.

Would she caress my chest like this?

One foot enters the shower, another followers. The door shuts and the glass steams up.

Does her mouth feel as soft as the words that come out of it?

He lets out a low groan. Rivulets of water run down his body.

She’d feel better than my hand. She’d take care of me.

Suguru’s hands trace up his chest and neck, his mind imagining it as your hand – he’s mimicking his imagination, picturing how sensual and gentle your touch would be. Your fingers wouldn’t be calloused like his, they’re small.

He lets himself get completely lost in a fantasy of you and him standing together under the showerhead, bodies close and heating up together. Without realizing, he’s lathering up his body with soap with slow, sensual movements. His hand grazes over his cock, it’s standing up and jumping a little at the thought of your face. Before he knows it, he’s slowly pumping his cock and tilting his head off to the side in pleasure.

Pretty sultry eyes flutter shut and his tip twitches. He squeezes and releases, imagining how you’d tease around. Or maybe you were inexperienced – now that thought gets him excited, it leads his fantasy into another direction. If he could have one night with you, he’d show you exactly what he likes and how he wants you to pleasure him. Maybe one night would turn into multiple nights, or entire weekends spent with him.

He lets out a shaky breath and presses on palm flat against the shower’s tile wall, bowing his head, lips parted with gentle, breathy moans escaping them – but both the sounds of the rainstorm and the shower drown them out.

A murky idea of what you look like naked and wet in the shower is hot on his mind. He rolls his thumb over the tip of his cock, leaving a small trail of soapy bubbles. His shaft’s gotten all lathered up, the sound of squelching barely reaching his ears. It makes him think of how you’d sound when he���s pumping his cock inside of you.

Would you be able to take it all? He looks down at it and contemplates that. How tight would you be? Would he cum boyishly soon if he sunk inside your gummy walls? If he went faster like this, would you become a mess underneath him? Would you want him to cum inside?

He’s a simple man when he’s so close to orgasming right there in his shower, the image of you taking his creampie makes him orgasm.

There’s a gentle rumble of thunder that covers up a loud moan that escapes his throat. He’s never moaned like that before. And he’s never cum so hard before, either – usually it’s a few watery shots of cum, not thick white ropes like this.

Does he feel guilty when cleaning his cum up the shower wall? A little bit.

“Damn it…” he mutters disappointedly.

⚠️ smut scene over

When he wraps a towel around his waist and looks into the mirror at his long hair, he wonders how you ever thought he looked approachable. If anything, he looked intimidating and cold.

That long shower fantasy of you only temporarily sates his mind. Letting his body fall into his bed with a soft thump, he sinks into the mattress. He rolled onto his side and started thinking of you again. This time, he replays everything that happened in those two hours at the café. He replays parts of the conversation like it was his favorite movie, until he fell asleep.

“You’re very alluring.” He thought of those words you said to him.

A subtle smile tugged at his lips.

***

Days pass. Suguru purposefully strides past the café and takes a glimpse into the windows to check if you’re there. When you’re not, he frowns and keeps walking. When you are, his eyes light up ever so slightly and his feet seem to carry him over to you – even though his mind screams at him to stop. This is madness. You’re supposed to be the very thing he hates, but he can’t bring himself to.

Because you’re dreamy. Or at least that’s the effect you have on him.

Each time he sees you at the café, he realizes more and more how weak and clumsy you are. Slowly, those traits become endearing to him. It irks him to feel this growing compulsion to protect you.

The tide of his mind completely turns over when he walks you home one day. A little curse had been clinging to your arm, cruelly giggling with its morbid little face.

How dare you? He eyes it out and watches you obliviously massage your arm, trying to alleviate the tension.

Suguru could have made two possible decisions; exorcise it or leave it. In other words, turn back on his beliefs or recede back into them completely, never to reemerge.

You massage your arm again, and at the moment you turn away from your apartment’s door, Suguru engulfs you in a very random, very soft hug. Widening your eyes, you’re unsure how to reciprocate for a moment. You hear him swallow.

Oh, is he nervous to be hugging me? Does he have a boyish crush on me? That’s unexpected of a mature man like him.

That’s what you’re obliviously thinking.

Suguru stifles a sigh. Part of him wishes you never hugged him back. But he can’t deny the rush he feels through his veins. Your warm, embrace is something he never knew he needed so badly until he got it.

That moment sets him on fire, he feels electric when he walks back home.

“Damn it…” he mutters with a small smirk playing at his lips – one that’s very similar to how he used to smirk with Satoru.

***

Months pass, and you start regularly visiting each other’s apartments. Tokyo is cramped, the word spacious never crosses your mind when you walk into someone else’s home. But Suguru’s apartment felt smaller than the others, because he had two balls of energy running around like chaotic demons. Lovably chaotic demons. Two twin girls, they’re celebrating their fifth birthday and you’re in the kitchen with Suguru baking a cake for them. It was your idea. And though you had to practically drag Suguru by the arm to get him to bake a cake, he was very willing to help out.

Nanako keeps trying to spook you, and you pretend to die of a heart attack – it makes her giggle. Mimiko pretends to be a spider crawling up your back, you also pretend to be scared – and she responds with a cheeky “I’m not actually a spider, I fooled you!”

“Girls, please give Y/n and I some alone time.” Suguru tells them after they become a bit much. Adults can only deal with so much, some relaxation is eagerly sought after.

“Is Y/n gonna be our mommy?” Nanako asks before leaving the kitchen. Her and Mimiko both look at you two expectantly.

Suguru is completely caught off guard by this question, but you laugh.

“Let us be, Nanako.” He speaks without composure, so shaken up and embarrassed. When was the last time he blushed to boyishly?

The twins scamper out the kitchen and into their own little kid’s world, roaming the house as if it was full of secrets they had to discover.

“Sorry, they’re quite outspoken for their ages.” Suguru refuses to look at you anymore, his heart is thumping in his chest. What if you wanted to be their mom? It’s a cute thought that occupies his mind as he talks to you.

“They’re the sweetest.” You sigh adoringly, “Really, the sweetest. It reminds me, had a friend once who ran a kindergarten, and I stood in for her one spring while she was on sick leave. There was this very sweet little boy who followed me around like a puppy. Working there for a little while made me realize how much I want to have kids and a family.” You talk while mixing ingredients into a bowl, stirring up the batter until it’s creamy and smooth.

Suguru’s listening attentively. He’s watching your gentle movements interestedly. Were you gentler in his presence? He wonders what you’re like when you’re annoyed. When you wake up, how cute is your bleary-eyed face?

“You’re good with kids.” Suguru compliments.

“Thank you.” You smile a bit bashfully. “Though, now that I think about it, there was also this kid at that kindergarten that would try to bite me all the time. An absolute menace.”

Suguru lets out a laughing breath through his nose.

“Yeah, Nanako has tried to bite Mimiko many times. The first time it happened, she screamed herself blue and I had absolutely no idea what to do.” Suguru spoke, “By the way, d’you need help – ? M’kay, if you say so. I’m right here. Anyways… she bit her so hard it left a bite mark.”

“Oh yeah, I know what you’re talking about, alright. That sucker left a bite mark on my thigh – I’ve still got the scar.” You tell him.

Suguru’s mind lights up when you so flippantly mention your thigh. He can’t help himself. He’s starting to want more, his whole body craves proximity – that’s why, while you put the cake in the oven, he discretely inches closer to where you stand. Arms crossed over his broad chest, hair up in a neat bun – he only realized just then how you have such a positive effect on him. He hadn’t put such deep care into his appearance since before…

“Suguru? Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah. Just thinking.”

“You must have a lot to be thinking about. Your face looks so severe… I want to knead out the severity.” You tease.

He loves the way you speak. He loves the subtle playful teasing you do every now and then, it shows him that you’re getting comfortable around him like he is around you.

“Sorry. I’m just a brooding type.” He smirks at you, shifting his body so that he leans comfortably against the counter.

“What are you brooding on?” you ask him curiously.

It makes his heart lurch that you care, that you’re genuinely curious about what’s going on behind those abyssal black eyes of his.

“I don’t want to bring down the mood.”

“You won’t bring down the mood. What’s on your mind? I’m not the best at advice… in fact I’m shit, but I’m a good listener… so indulge me.” You encourage him, attempting to hop up on the kitchen countertop to sit comfortably.

His heart feels stabbed and twisted all of a sudden. But he smirks, sees you struggling to climb a countertop, and comes to help you. Big hands grab at the back of your thighs as he leans down, cheek brushing with your cheek for a moment, before he hoists you up himself.

“Thank you.” You smile at him, veiling your nervousness.

His body feels hotter after he pulls away. But he acts coolly, resuming his nonchalant pose of leaning against the countertop with crossed arms.

“I fell out with an old friend.” He begins simply. It’s laughable, saying that out loud – you have no idea of the severity, of the drama. “We were like yin and yang.” He desperately tries to add a layer of depth to give you a better picture.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” you inquire.

Suguru thinks back on that day. “Yeah. We had a disagreement. And… I think… I’ve finally started to regret walking away from him.” He admits.

That admittance unexpectedly makes his throat constrict and his eyes line with tears. He blinks them away quickly.

“Why did you walk away?” you tilt your head.

I wonder what she’d think if I told her every detail.

“We have differing beliefs about… something. I can’t describe it sensibly to you.”

You look at him interestedly. “Beliefs? Like about religion?”

“I guess kind of like that…? Not religion, but something as serious as that.”

“If you regret walking away from him,” you begin, speaking your train of thought, “why don’t you come back to him and tell him that? Or would that be a bad idea? I don’t know… it just seems like you miss whoever this person is.”

You render him speechless and he looks at you like you just unravelled a secret part of him that no one had seen before.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – ”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that. I think I’ll… uh, give him a call sometime and see him for coffee.” Suguru says decidedly.

Was he really going to do that? Before meeting you, he couldn’t fathom facing Satoru again. It was a mortifying idea. He crushed his best friend’s spirit, how could he face him again?

“Sounds good… you could meet him at the café we go to.” You say.

Suguru’s half lost in thought and staring at the kitchen floor tiles. “Yeah… hey, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Absolutely.”

He chokes up a bit, darting his eyes around, as if searching carefully for his words. When he looks at you, he completely forgets what he was going to ask. His heart is beating like he was just about to confess to his high school sweetheart.

Suguru takes a deep inhale.

“I think the cake is burning.”

“Oh shit!”

***

Satoru scoffs bitterly over his beverage.

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

A pair of striking blue eyes meet abyssal black ones.

“What changed your mind...?” Satoru comments in a softer tone after hearing his old friend call his name so tenderly.

“Something good happened.” Suguru subtly smiles, the memory of meeting you in this same café flashing across his mind.

A silence comes over them, and slowly the tension works out of their air, an understanding replacing it.

“Maybe we are supposed to protect them, after all… damn monkeys, look at ‘em so helpless.” Suguru chuckles, half-joking as he watches a baby start to cry in its mothers arms on the street outside.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[dantakeyoman]

pls part 2 to neteyam defending you 🫡🤍 but this time i'd love a continuation to motherly neytiri tending to reader!! and her hinting at the fact she had seen them and their son share a kiss after trying to find out all the commotion once hearing overprotective jake lose his cool at ao'nung!

Jake Is Pissed At Ao'nung, and Neytiri Talks To You About Your Kiss With Neteyam After All the Commotion (SFW)

Part 2 of "Neteyam Defending You"

CW: my dude Jake goes crazy, starts talking really freely to the Olo'eyktan, Neytiri is so nice and caring, best wing-woman ever, jake x reader (platonic; father-daughter-ish)

"What the hell is the matter with you, boy?! I oughta fight you right now!" Jake shouted as his eyebrows furrowed, the boy doing his best to try and understand the angry, English words.

Jake always switched to English when he was mad.

It was instinct, and English had more expressive cuss words than Na'vi anyway.

"Mawhey, My Jake," Neytiri whispered, quietly stepping in front of her husband and resting her hands on his chest, her eyes flicking to the crowd of village people that started to form.

"Please. The people are watching."

The entire Sully family stood behind you and Jake, on one side of the walkway, while Ao'nung, his friends, and the rest of the Metkayina stood on the other.

It looked as if both sides were warring.

"Let 'em watch. This shit needs to be dealt with," Jake growled, carefully moving her out the way and getting ready to scream at Ao'nung some more.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Tonowari asked calmly, him and Ronal breaking through the crowd and stepping to the front.

His tone was calm, but you could see on his face that he was clearly angered with the fact that his on was injured, and the outsiders shouting at him.

"The problem here? I'll show you the problem," Jake whipped his head over to you, giving a firm nod.

You nodded back with a sigh, stepping in the middle of the clan divide and lifting your arms, putting all of your injuries on display.

The Metkayina gasped, and Neteyam had to be held back by Lo'ak and Kiri.

He hadn't realized the extent of the damage when he was carrying you, but looking at it now, he should've hit Ao'nung twice as hard.

You had hand-shaped bruises all over your arms, and one on your ankle from Ao'nung's demonstration.

Your face had a large bruise on it's right cheek, and a bloody nose from being dropped on your face.

And the statement piece of it all, the nasty, pillow-sized bruise on your side, which was leaking blood from Ao'nung's toenails.

"Your words. Treat these Forest people like brothers and sisters. I don't see this shit as very familial," Jake spat, pointing roughly at Rotxo.

"That little shit managed to squeal about everything done to (y/n). The grabbing! The kicking! THE KIDS DROPPED HER ON HER FACE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

Your breath hitched, silently thanking Eywa that the Metkayina did not have good English.

Ronal and Tonowari quickly turning to their son in anger, their gaze practically burning holes into the boy.

"Is this true?" the two hissed, no longer masking their rage.

And the look of absolute fear on his face was the icing on the cake.

It almost made you feel sorry for him.

....Almost.

"ANSWER!" Tonowari shouted.

"YES! It's true!" He admitted, hanging his head.

The entire crowd gasped, and Tsireya did her best to hold back tears as she looked at your injured form.

You were a very nice girl, and an incredible friend. You didn't deserve this in the slightest.

She could not believe her brother for doing such a horrible thing.

"My kids come back to me nearly everyday talking about how this kid is constantly harassing them-." "He calls us all freaks," Tuk sadly chimed, glassy eyed as she tucked her face into her mother's side, Neytiri taking deep, full breaths to keep her composure.

"But for the sake of peace, I let it slide. Well all that stops tonight! I want it to be made perfectly clear that if your son, or ANY of his little friends so much as lift a finger to ANY of my children, they will have to answer to me!" Jake finalized, resting a hand on your shoulder at the word children.

It almost brought you to tears.

You felt so loved, and protected, and safe. It me your heart swell with joy.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Rotxo and the other boys frantically agreed, terrified that, not only did they witness Toruk Makto's anger, but were the direct cause of it.

Everyone turned to Ao'nung to hear his response, but he stayed silent, dazed.

"SPEAK, BOY!" Tonowari shouted once again, pushing the boy forward with his staff.

"Understood!" he cried, turning his gaze down to the floor.

"Good," Jake huffed, un-puffing his chest.

"You have brought shame to this family. Go to the marui. You are grounded," Tonowari glared at his son, pointing his staff back to their home.

Ao'nung nodded, quickly turning around and speed-walking over, Tsireya following behind, ashamed.

Jake scoffed at the display, before turning to you with a softened face. "Now you. Are you okay? Wanna go get patched up?"

"Yes, sir," you nodded with a smile, quietly wincing from the pain of your bruised cheek.

"If you would accept, I could heal your daughter for you," Ronal stepped forward, apologetically bowing.

"I believe your family has done enough for tonight. I will handle this," Neytiri glared, stepping in front of you.

Ronal clenched her jaw, but nodded, turning around to follow her husband home.

"Come, child," Neytiri smiled at you, carefully taking your hand and leading you to the marui, Tuk and Kiri following close behind.

They entered, and the boys tried coming in after, but Neytiri stopped them.

"We must talk. Alone," Neytiri knowingly looked up at Jake, who nodded.

"That's alright. I gotta talk to these two, anyway," he agreed, resting his hands on the brothers' shoulders and leading them to a more secluded part of the island.

When Neytiri turned around, you were already sitting down, Kiri preparing the salves for your bruises.

She walked over and sat criss-crossed in front of you, picking up a special leaf to clean off your blood.

"My (y/n), are you alright?" she calmly asked, lightly swiping the blood from your nose.

"Yes. It looks worse than it feels. Truly," you assured, the loud wince you let out when Kiri touched a bruise quickly debunking your statement.

Neytiri sighed, carefully lifting your arm to wipe the blood from your side.

She needed to lift your spirits.

"You know," she started, a smile growing on her lips. "You and Neteyam remind me of me and his father when we were young."

You practically choked on the air you were breathing, the coughing fit you were sent into not feeling the best on your ribs.

Though it seemed like perfect entertainment for Kiri and Tuk, whose uproarious laughter could be heard from the next marui.

"I am serious," Neytiri politely laughed, halting her swipes on your side with a smile so you could catch your breath.

"He may not act like it, but your father used to be just as reckless as Lo'ak, maybe a little more."

"Really?!" Tuk asked, amazed.

"No way," Kiri scoffed with a smile.

Out of all the times he had scolded that boy, he was just as bad.

"But he was strong. He had a strong heart. No fear. Almost never hesitating to fight if needed," Neytiri continued, starting to smooth the salve over your rib.

"I see this in Neteyam."

She glanced up from her work, looking you in the eyes.

"For me, I was always calm. I wasn't as quick to fight as he, but I was still strong, and determined."

She looked back down.

"I see this in you."

Your cheeks turned a dark blue hue, despite the splashes of purple and red alredy there.

"The Great Mother knows all, and I feel she did not make this resemblance for no reason."

Was she saying what you think she's saying?

"Neytiri, what are you-?" "I am saying you and Neteyam have my blessing," she smiled.

Your breath hitched.

"Oh! I didn't....we weren't.....I wasn't-!" "No sense in denying it, (y/n). The whole clan saw you swapping spit with the boy as you came over," Kiri shrugged with a smile, teasingly poking you in the cheek, wary of your injuries.

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands, embarrassed.

"Oh, stop," Neytiri chuckled, tucking a stray braid behind your ear. "I think it is cute."

bonus !!

Jake sat down on the sandy shore, Neteyam and Lo'ak sitting on either side of him, concerned.

"You two listen, and listen good," he started seriously, his tone leaving no room for games.

The two nodded, and the man continued.

"I want you two to watch that Ao'nung kid, and his little group of friends, too. Be nice for the sake of peace, but keep your heads on a swivel. If they say anything to your sisters or (y/n), you tell me, I'll sort it out."

Jake did a quick perimeter check, making sure no one was listening in.

"But if any of those little shits so much as touch a hair on their head, I give both of you full permission to beat the living shit out of each and every one of them. Don't worry about the repercussions, I'll take the heat. But that's gonna be the new protocol from now on."

The two boys nodded firmly, giving their father a serious look.

"Understood," Neteyam agreed.

He was glad his dad was giving him permission, but to be honest, he was going to end up doing this anyway.

Today, he made a silent oath that he was never going to let you get hurt on his watch ever again.

"Alright," Lo'ak smirked, cracking his knuckles with his fist.

"And as for you," Jake started up again, turning to Neteyam.

The boy gulped, bracing himself for a scolding of some sort.

"Who taught you how to kiss like that?" his father smiled, giving his son a proud pat on the back.

"Oh, yeah! Those two were going at it! They were like-." Lo'ak jumped up from his seat, hugging himself and making kissing noises.

"Aye!" Neteyam waved off with a smile, that familiar heat rising to his cheeks.

Jake chuckled at his boys' antics, throwing his arms around each one and pulling them into a hug.

This was what a family was for. Protecting one another, caring for one another, healing one another.

Jake had no doubt in his mind that his family was, and truly is, his fortress.

[stxneflxwers]

pain reliever.

⋯⁂ summary. migraines. migraines never end.

⋯⁂ a/n. oh my god im so sick of being in pain someone just make it end-

⋯⁂ characters. aventurine. gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. reader in physical pain (migraines, light sensitive eyes). comfort. all lowercase. aventurine is now designated weighted blankie.

"another migraine, huh?"

aventurine chimes in, his voice soft as a feather – without its typical sassy and teasing edge, too. he stands behind you as you rest on the sofa in his penthouse, your sluggish body flush against the puffy back cushions. his hands rest on the tops of the cushions, caging either side of your head as he stares down at you, your head tilted back to look up at him.

of course, the seating is about as lavish and comfortable as it comes – you wouldn't expect anything less from your eccentric boyfriend.

"yup." you don't even nod, and your words are barely louder than a pained whisper.

"you poor thing," he coos, "here. take it." he offers his rose-tinted sunglasses to you, to help subdue some of the bright lighting coming from the ceiling.

you stare for a long, hard (and painful) moment at the sunglasses offered to you. without another moment thinking about if the rose-tinted lens will actually help with negating some pain, you take the accessory by its temples and slide them on. you then look up at him through the rosy glass, your eyes half-lidded and your expression droopy.

"adorable." he grins, a genuine one he reserves for you – only for you. "now, how about i look for some meds, huh? i bought some recently for times like these." he reaches out a gloved hand, intending on gently petting your head, but ends up holding himself back. his hand awkwardly hovers above your face before it rests back down on the sofa back.

"...you did that? for me?" you blink, eyes widening momentarily with knitted brows.

"i sure did. i can't have my favorite person being in debilitating pain every time i see them, yeah? it's no fun that way." he chuckles breathily before leaning down to press a chaste, feather-light kiss to your exposed forehead.

"i wouldn't call it debilitating, per se..." you drawl, but smile from his tender ministrations.

"well, we'll have to agree to disagree, then," he shakes his head. "i'll be right back. you try to rest some." he walks away, dimming the lights in the living room as he leaves to look for the medication he mentioned.

"thank you, vasha..." you mumble, watching him walk away – his stride holds significantly less bravado to it when it's just the two of you. it's...relaxed.

when he returns with two pills and a cup of cool water in hand, he finds you laying down on the sofa – curled up in a tight, little ball of..., well, pain. he hates seeing you in pain, much less so this frequently. but he masks his concern just enough to not make you worry about him being worried. it's almost ironic.

"hey," he whispers, voice even softer than earlier, "c'mon, time to take your meds~." he teases a little as he bends over enough to meet your scrunched up face, hoping to lighten your mood.

"alright, alright..." you grumble, "thank you, nurse." you tiredly grin at him before pulling yourself up into a seated but slouched position.

"aww, i bet you'd like to see me all dressed up like a cute little nurse, huh?" he jokes while handing you the pills and cup.

"...i will neither confirm nor deny that allegation." you scoff playfully, and then you take the medication as instructed – of course, you down all the water too. or else a certain gambler will get on your case.

"pfft, figures." he snickers, taking a seat beside you on the sofa, slinging an arm on the top of the back cushions.

after setting the empty cup down on the accessory table next to the armrest, you glance at him with weary eyes. but to him, it looks like you're about to beg for something–

"be my blanket."

perhaps "beg" was a poor word choice. that sounded far more like a demand.

"...your blanket...?" he blinks on repeat, looking somewhat bewildered.

"yes. lay on top of me." you blink back, but your expression lacks any sort of discernible emotion. "it's...comforting."

"well," he starts with an awkward, stiff chuckle, "if you insist. i'll gladly be your blanket, then." he smiles and shakes his head.

you lay on your back, opening your arms to him before he settles on top of you – he's the best height and weight to be a nice, warm weighted blanket. he rests his head on your chest as his body sits between your legs. you sigh in contentment, and you swear this is what real perfection feels like.

warm, safe, quiet.

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Nine

Summary: Y/n is desperate to try and get home, willing to face near death again to try if she must. Azriel is not willing to let her risk herself, and fortunately neither is the rest of his family.

Warnings: she’s a little angsty

Series Masterlist

-Part Nine-

“You’re not trying it again,” Azriel snarls, arms crossed over his chest, “We don’t even know what went wrong in the first place, you could’ve died.”

Y/n sighs, rubbing her temples, they’d been at this for hours now, surrounded by the inner court. So far, no one seemed to be on her side, least of all Azriel. As soon as the words had left her mouth he’d been seething, that quiet calm mask replaced by burning rage.

“Give me the book of breathings and I’ll figure it out,” Y/n snaps back, bearing all of her teeth at him, “I must have misread something. Maybe the ancient busy body will have answers for me.”

“You’re not going anywhere near that book!”

“Az, chill out,” Cassian says, gripping his brother’s arm, “Let’s all calm down and think for a damn moment.”

Y/n slumps into her seat, glaring at Azriel as he paces on the other side of the table, the only thing keeping them from lunging at each other and tearing out each other’s throat. He glares right back, shadows whipping around him like they might grab her and strap her to the very seat she sits on to keep her from trying the spell again.

“Azriel’s right,” Feyre sighs, “That book was holding you hostage, and the book of breathings has done the same to me, I don’t want to risk you getting hurt again, or worse.”

“I’m not a child in need of your protection,” Y/n says, ice cold and guarded.

“No,” Amren says then, “But you are stranded and in need of our help. We will not risk ourselves because you want to foolishly run head first to your death.”

“Y/n, it’s in your best interest to take it slow, and let us help you,” Rhys chimes in, “I felt something when you opened that portal, something dark, powerful. There’s something out there, and whatever it is took an interest in out dear Y/n here.”

Y/n’s shoulder lock up, and Azriel’s glare turns to ice, “You already knew that didn’t you?”

“What was it?” Nesta leans on the table, steely eyes staring directly into Y/n’s soul.

“I don’t know,” she says, holding that piercing gaze, not backing down an inch, “I heard something, when I was trapped. Something cold and wicked.”

“What did it say?” Azriel demands, stepping closer to the table that separates them, multiple times in the last hour she’d been half tempted to leap across that table and fight it out with teeth, fists, and daggers, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh please.” She rolls her eyes, and she can see the exact moment it crawls beneath his skin, he looks half tempted to strangle her, “It’s kind of hard to talk when you’re to busy shoving your tongue down my throat.”

“I’m sorry,” Mor says, looking at Az with wide eyes, “What?”

“Listen, princess.” Azriel leans on the table, ignoring Mor, ignoring the rest of his family who look between the two with varying degrees of alarm, “I don’t give a shit about this whole, I’m tougher than the world act, you’re scared and I know it, I can fucking see it, so go ahead and tell me what the fuck it said.”

She practically hisses at him, leaning forward in her seat, arm in casual reach of the blade at her thigh, “You don’t fucking know me, shadowsinger.”

“That’s enough,” Feyre snaps, “if you two can’t be civil together one of you can get out.”

Azriel looks ready to argue but one sharp glare from his high lady has him backing down. He turns on his heal, taking three long strides away from the table, putting distance between them like it would cool the raging flames in their eyes.

“What did you hear?” Feyre asks calmly, that air of dominance in her voice, High Lady, a queen in her own right.

Y/n holds her head high, meeting Feyre’s eyes, she may not be a queen but one day she would be, and she would bow to no one, “It told me to pay the price, gods killer’s kin.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Cassian asks, “Why can’t these things just say what they mean?”

“When my mother banished the gods to that hell realm to die,” Y/n says, “It would seem not all of them did. And whoever survived is demanding the price my mother was supposed to give.”

“And what price is that?” Azriel’s voice is deadly soft.

She could feel the anger radiating off of him, not necessarily at her, not necessarily not at her. He was angry that she’d nearly died, that she was willing to do it again if it meant going home. He was angry at her for being so damn stubborn that she wouldn’t listen, that she wouldn’t let him play protective fae male. She was angry to, so gods damned angry at the Wyrd for handing her this fate. For bringing her here in the first place, for putting her in their lives, in his, only to take her away again.

“My life.”

Azriel felt the words echo through him, bouncing around in his skull, each syllable cracking another piece of him until he was on the verge of shattering. My life, my life, my life, her life, her life, her life, her, her, her. Sharp stabbing pain in his chest like each word was a ash arrow through his sternum and directly into the heart beneath.

“No.”

“You don’t-“

“No,” he growls again, gaze matching Y/n’s, fire and ice pushing and pushing against each other to create a storm.

“We don’t know what this thing is,” Rhys interjects, “If it’s an actual god like thing, one of Quinlann’s Asteri, or something else entirely. Amren will search that dreadful book for answers about the gate. You two, will sit and calm the fuck down, and the rest of us will get back to work.”

The High Lord’s voice held an air of finality, no room to argue, even Y/n slumped in her seat, letting some of the cold fire go out. Amren is up and out the door as soon as Rhys stands, grumbling something beneath her breath about ungrateful little girls that has Y/n glaring between her shoulders like she was imagining that dagger strapped to her thigh buried between them.

“It will be alright, Y/n” Feyre lays a gentle hand on the female’s shoulder, “We will get you home, and if this god wants a fight, we will give it one.”

Azriel notes the shattered and broken look in Y/n’s eyes as she nods at his High Lady. He is so busy examining each of her motions that he doesn’t notice his family file out, doesn’t notice the concerned eyes and subtle glances between him and the female before him. She won’t look at him, he can tell she is actively trying not to meet his gaze. Fine, if she wanted to play the silent game, he’d play it and he’d win. They were going to have this out one way or another.

He sits across from her, arms crossed over his chest, eyes searching her face for any motion, but she sits still, that absolute fae stillness that looks like she isn’t even breathing. If it wasn’t for the steady beat of her heart in his ears he would think she wasn’t.

They sat there in silence, neither willing to be the one to break first. She stares at the wall beyond him, he stares at her face.

The tension in the room is suffocating, Azriel’s shadows are the only movement, the only sound, whispering in his ears, she’s upset, help her, comfort her. He wants to scream, to tell them to mind their own business.

He knows she’s upset, he knows and there’s a part of him that wants to take her into his arms and hold her, to tell her it’s alright and that he’d help her figure it out, but there’s an even bigger part of him that wants to keep yelling, to grab her and shake her till she stops and actually listens to him. He wishes he was like Rhys, that he could go into her mind and show her what she had looked like, trapped in that spell, he wishes he could show her the terror in his heart. How could she be so gods damned stubborn that she would even think to try it again, to put herself through that again, to put him through it again. Because if she did it, he would be right there beside her, and he would burn all over again to keep her safe.

Both of them were to stubborn to break first, they sat there for nearly an hour before Azriel stood, that far away look in his eyes that meant Rhys was talking to him in his head. He didn’t say anything to Y/n, only sending her a warning look before stalking out the doors and jumping from the balcony. She was half tempted to follow, to take her talons directly into his back, to get the fight she’d been itching to have with him. Instead she sat there, staring at that same blank space on the wall, mind spiraling down and down into that dark portal that ate up the Walking Dead book.

She wishes she still had it, that she could figure out how it all went wrong. She was so sure she’d copied those marks perfectly, spelling out the name of her home meticulously. Orynth, Terrasen, she’d learned how to write out the name in the Wyrd marks as a child, she knew it like the back of her hand. It should’ve worked, the gate should’ve worked.

When it had opened, she swore she could feel home on the other side, lands of pine and snow, the smell of the kings flame blooming across the mountains. It was right there, just beyond her reach, and that was when she’d felt it, when there had been something else, something dark that took her mind and whispered those words. Which god had survived, which one now demanded her death, she wasn’t sure. Quite frankly she didn’t want to know.

Whoever it was, they were angry, angry at her mother for what she had done, for the deaths of the other gods, and for that, they would take the one thing her mother cherished beyond anything else, Y/n. They would take her, using the power in her blood to make the lock that would bring them home, squeezing every last drop of life from her till there was nothing left.

Azriel knew he was going to walk into the River house and be bombarded, the question was, who would get to him first.

“Who needs a babysitter now?”

He glares at his brother, “Shut up, Cassian.”

“No, no, I’m going to enjoy this,” Cass grins at him, “I’m surprised you actually came down here, with way you two were staring each other down I was sure there would be some rough-“

Azriel sends him a warning snarl, “Watch it.”

Cassian only grins wider, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “I’ve never seen someone get under you skin like that. I’m surprised it took this long for, how’d did she put it? For your tongue to end up down her throat.”

Azriel was seconds away from sending his fist into his brothers face when Rhys opens his office door, “I’m surprised you’re not in a bed right now.”

Cassian’s roaring laughter fills the hall way and Azriel doesn’t hold back the fist he sends straight into Cassian’s stomach. His brother breathlessly laughs, even as he doubles over. Rhys’s eyes sparkle in amusement and Azriel sends him a look that dares him to say anything else.

“Why did you call me down?”

The High Lords humor vanishes just like that, it’s enough to even sober up Cassian, “Amren found something.”

No, no, no, no, “What is it?”

“The book of breathings was very talkative, it kept telling her that the storyteller should have heeded its warnings,” Rhys sighs, leaning against the door way, “With enough snarling Amren was able to wring a solid answer out of it.”

Azriel felt like throwing up as he asked, “What did it say?”

Rhys gives him a look, one that seems pleading, “That the Wyrd brought her here for a reason, as a gift to her, and it was angry at her for not accepting it.”

Cassian sighs, “What does that mean. What gift?”

There’s a moment where Azriel thinks Rhys won’t answer. Whatever it was, Az isn’t completely sure he wants to know. Whatever that wretched book had to say, it couldn’t be good.

“Fate brought Y/n here as a gift to her,” Rhys says again, taking a deep steadying breath, “Brought her here as a gift to her and her mate.”

Everything went quiet, the air, the best of his heart, quiet. No sound, no breaths, nothing. Just that word, mate, her mate.

“Az.”

He didn’t know who said it, Rhys, Cassian, his shadows, he didn’t know, he couldn’t hear beyond the echo of the word, mate, mate, mate, mate.

“Who?” He chokes on it, drowns in it, mate, mate, mate, “Who is it?”

He could feel it, like a tendril of shadow that reaches far far above the city, to the red cliffs, to the house carved into it’s side.

Rhys gives him a pitying look, “Brother, who do you thi-“

A soft tug, on that shadow, so faint it feels like it slips between his fingers.

“Who?” He pleads, breaking beneath it, mate, mate, mate, “Please.”

He collapses beneath the weight, knees digging into the soft plush rug beneath him. His brothers don’t move, they let him get crushed beneath the word.

“The book said it was a gift,” his brother whispers, “a gift to the storyteller and the shadowsinger.”

Mate, mate, mate, mate. That tendril of shadow firmly in his grasp, and on the other side, sits a storm of ice and fire. His mate, sits on the other side, high above him in the House of Wind, mate, mate, mate, mate, mate.

She is his mate.

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[gildedkrone]

I'm the boy next door, let me come in🔞

Part 2 to this fic

Relationships: Ghost x verse!Male Reader Synopsis: You meet him years later and he still can't forget you. Master List

Simon doesn't text back anymore. You aren't so much surprised as disappointed to know it would end this way. He has a wife to go home to, and your next client wouldn't wait for you to get over the very one-sided heartbreak.

The chat ended on a single message from Simon.

["Take care, luv. Hope this helps you with your dream."]

A transfer of ten thousand pounds into your bank account. You don't want to know how he acquired said information, given he is a military man, you wouldn't put it pass him to have used his clearence to search you up. Would it have killed him to do it in person? No. But anything, is better than nothing from a man you should have never gotten attached to.

It's a bittersweet end and the end of your "relationship" with the man.

---

A cigarette between his lips and his moment of peace was interrupted by his secretary entering his office after two knocks.

"Mr Riley, you have an upcoming meeting at two with the Mr Decartes, should I arrange for him to wait in the conference room?"

He flicks two fingers (yes) and snuffs out the cigarette. The Riley family always had a name in the military business, and the newly retired lieutenant returned home to Manchester to hold the reins to his family empire. Post military life is mundane, he supposed. There's no threat of being knived or shot when out bumbling about the streets of the city and most people give him a wide berth of space, if nothing but fear of his size. The skull mask is gone, replaced by a simple black mask concealing the bottom part of his face.

---

The train to Edinburgh is packed to the brim and per his request, the entire business coach is booked out to give him some semblance of privacy. The online meeting is rotting his brain with the incessant business partners and their multitude of requests. Eventually, the meeting ends not before the train is slowing to stop.

"Dear ladies and gentlemen, due to a railway signalling fault, we are unable to proceed to Edinburgh and the train will be stopping at Carlisle. Please speak to a train attendant if you have questions about transfers and continuing your journey."

Fuckin' hell and now even the train is conspiring against him. The attendant is apologetic and informs him of his choices. Return to Manchester on the train in three hours or wait for an unspecified time for the next train to Edinburgh. Either way, he isn't reaching his destination within the same day.

---

He has hours to burn, and he begins with getting coffee. Carlisle isn't a big city and he spends some time walking about the place and looking at things. Whatever British people did for fun. His mindless walk brings him to a flower shop and before his mind could object, he was pushing past the doors and the sweet chime into the cool and empty shop. There is nobody at the counter and he rings the bell.

"Coming!"

Sounds of shuffling as a man returns from the rear of the shop and you stop behind the counter.

"Hey, is there anything I can do for you?" You flash him a smile and he is taken back by the sight. It's the man he's had a fling with five years ago but there is no recognition in your eyes. Was it the mask?

"I'm looking for something for a business deal."

"Oh, do you know what arrangement you would like?" He looks confused and you continue. "We can make it in different sizes and shapes if you have any in mind?"

"Not really. Do you have pictures?"

"Sure do." You grab the folder of pictures and flipped to the business section. When you looked up, the man has an unfathomable look on his face. He takes his time reviewing through the photos and asks several questions about the shop. How did it come to be etc. You tell him about the ten thousand dollars a man left for you once and he knows, confirms it is you.

"So I moved from London up north here to settle down and open my shop. Business is doing well and I've just received a giant order for a wedding. Might need to hire some people to help me out there."

He doesn't know what his traitorous mind was on when he mouth blurts out how willing he is to help. He is dressed in some formal attire and clearly not a contract worker but he is insistent, so you relent and tell him to meet you after dinner. Especially knowing how difficult and costly it is to hire rush work.

---

Edinburgh is the last thing on his mind when he shows up to your shop at eight in the evening. He opted for a large hoodie and some sweats and you usher him into the back of the store where the greenhouse is. His mask is still on and the hoodie is drawn over his head and you crack a joke about dressing correctly since it's cold in the greenhouse.

You make the first of many bouqets and he examines the shape and quantity of flowers in it. The silence is amiable and the man is a fast worker. Precise and controlled, his first bouqet is beautiful and well made. You disappeared into greenhouse to get more flowers and he follows you back in. Midway through the gathering of some flowers and he speaks.

"You don't remember me."

You give him a puzzled look and set the flowers back down. Did you know him?

He sighs and pulls back his hoodie and removes the mask on his face. It's him. It's Simon.

---

"What are you doing here, Simon?"

He sips his coffee and the both of you are seated behind the counter.

"The train broke down and 'm was exploring the city. Stumbled upon your shop and …"

"Are you no longer in the military?"

"Left the job. Had to go home and run the business."

He is still an absolute looker even five years later and his fingers gently brush against yours where it stays.

"Simon, your wife--"

"We're divorced. She's no longer my wife." He elaborates something along the lines of a falling out between the two families over business.

"Oh."

His hands are rough and calloused, and they hold yours.

"It wasn't a possibility then, but … I--"

"Simon, we can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Did you really love me? We had a fling, not a real relationship. I am past the age of flings and I want a real relationship."

"I can give yer that. Only if you would let me."

"Si--" And the rest of the sentence was stolen by his lips against yours. He is insistent and all of the walls you imagined comes crashing down at the taste of him and the hand on your thigh.

"Luv, fuck, missed yer fuckin' lips." And your moan is breathy as his touch crept up your thighs.

---

You weren't sure how it happened, but the kiss ends with you and him in the greenhouse and his hands in your pants. He is pleasure incarnate and his hands move with an urgency to feel you. They roam across expanses of skin before digging into flesh and unbuttoning your jeans. Your mind is drunk on the pleasure and your dick is aching to be touched, with the way it bobs up and down.

The touches are something clandestine, and you used to be his illicit affairs. Now, you are his partner? Lover? The definition is irrelevant as he turns you around to face him before pushing you into the wall. His dick is freed from his joggers where they tented the garment obscenely and he hands rest at your hips.

"If yer asking how serious I am, 'm fuckin' serious about this." The whispers of past encounters are strong and he gives your dick a few strokes before he hugs you tight and your dick pokes against his ass.

"Fuck, Simon, you sure about this?" His response is a sloppy kiss and a muffled yes.

"Have you done this--"

"Nobody. There's nobody after you." Fuck, if that doesn't send your desires higher to know he saved himself for you all these years.

You finger him gently to loosen his rear and gently slide into him until he is moaning and spasming around your dick. He is impatient and tugs your hand but you refuse to fully bottom out, knowing this is likely foreign to him and unwilling to hurt him. Tight, warm heat hungrily swallows your length and you fight off the urge to slam your hips into him—to show him who controls his pleasure. Gruff and gravelly moans get louder with each thrust and with eyes lidded in pleasure, he takes dick so beautifully and you reward him with kisses and bites to his neck. He chokes at the feeling of skin breaking when you leave a hickey. The sudden imagery of domming him and making him beg to cum is fire in your veins and you slow your thrusts.

"C'mon, fuck, yer heathen, stop teasin'." He gets another kiss and he whines.

The great Simon whining like a pup and trying to get himself off on your dick after years of abstinence is making your head all muddy. His hips squirm and he grumbles when you pull out of him only to turn him around to face the wall. The smack of his hands against the wall is loud when you enter him without warning and he is practically clawing at the walls to remain standing under the onslaught of pleasure.

"Fuck, not gonna last if you keep doin' this," and true to his word, his greedy hole tightens around you as he tipped his head back into a moan. Your hand guides him through his orgasm as the wall is coated with pent up ball batter and you are finishing in him with a whine and whimper.

He felt as divine as ever, even when he is below you and twitching from the aftershocks of an orgasm. Mercifully, he doesn't fight your attempts to clean him up even if a clench of his core meant more of your cum is dripping down his thighs. Your dick jumps at the creamy sight but Simon is fully sated and you are content to wait.

Here in the shop, everything feels right. Hearts aligned in a bow drawn taut towards love are yours and his.

---

"Simon, the dog is fighting the mailman again."

"Fuckin', luvvie, its your decision to get a dog."

"You didn't say no when we were at the shelter."

He groans when you shift on his lap while keeping him warm and cozy as the dick in your ass pokes against your prostate. Pre spills from your dick and he swipes a finger through the milky substance for a taste.

"This is, all your damn fault," you choke out between pants when his dick juts into further into you.

"Can't blame a man for wantin' more, sweetheart. Now sing for me," and those hips are determined to be the death of you. Ah, the joy of pleasure and to die from it, you think you could die happy in the lap of your man.

Raspy growls and a man possessed to chase and seek pleasure after years of draught is a dangerous combination. Your head rests against his shoulder amdist thrusts jostling your body.

"Fuck it, he can deal with that damned dog while I make you cum, darling."

[ilovetulips]

steve harrington x fem!reader

steve likes to think he hides his crushes well. well enough for nobody to notice. not robin, not nancy, and especially not you. he takes care with every word that leaves his mouth, concealing his happiness whenever you speak to him.

calm, cool and collected is his motto. everyday he follows this to avoid exposure. he finds having a little crush fun, harmless even. but he didn’t know that you knew. and he didn’t know that you feel the same way.

you walk into the rusting video rental store for your shift, paired with non other than steve this morning. “mornin’ y/n” calm, cool and collected. he makes a mental note to pat himself on the back.

“g’morning steve.” you smile, strolling straight past him and into the back room to clock in. the smell of your shampoo hits steve’s senses ever so slightly and he has to stop his knees from giving out right then and there.

when you return, your vest now atop of your floral blouse, he once again has to regain control of his knees.

calm, cool and collected. the red blush on the tip of his nose that he was completely unaware of was the complete opposite of this statement ‘motto’.

“bet you it’s not gonna be busy today.” the boy says, leaning forward on the counter with his arms. you do the same, only leaning backwards on the small of your back.

“whattcha betting me, harrington?” his head turns back, hair flopping widly before he turns around and copies your posture. bingo.

while he thought he was being the most subtle guy in the world, you had a list of things that made you almost positive steve had a crush on you.

1. he masked your posture. telltale sign.

“heyyyy, steve.” your shift not starting yet, you decided to sit in the small canteen for staff. your legs stretched out and your arms crossed.

“holy— y/n. scared the shit outta me.” he pulled out the chair opposite you on the small table.

“sorry! i got bored so just decided to wait in here.” you apologised. his arms crossed over his chest.

“you’re like some freaky ghost. you’re everywhere.” his legs stretched out infront of him as he spoke. the smirk on your face disguised in a laugh.

2. his feet pointed towards you whenever you sat in a group. always.

“did you just steal my fries?” your shocked face turned towards the culprit next to you.

“dunno what you’re talkin’ about. did anyone see me take her food?” eddie raised his hands in the air, feigning innocence.

“not me!” “i didn’t!” “what food?” your friends chimed in unison.

“you’re all traitors.”

steve smiled at your words. “what’re you smiling at, harrington?” his eyes widened slightly before he responded.

“nothin’.” his smile turned into that of a guilty person’s as he reached down into his lap,

his hand returning with a few fries he happily shovelled into his mouth — a few missing and falling on the floor.

you looked down in shock at your falling fries, their grease coating steve’s shoes. his feet were facing you, which wouldn’t have been odd except for the fact his body was facing a different way and he wasn’t sat directly infront of you.

you made sure to remember that.

3. everytime you weren’t involved in something, he wanted to know absolutely everything about why not.

“hey guys! where’s y/n?” steve stopped in his tracks. you rarely missed group outings, which let his steve-senses tingle at the fact something was clearly wrong.

“mmm i think she’s sick. nance said something like that. i dunno.” eddie was twirling his hair, not really paying attention.

“hm? oh, yeah. said she wasn’t feelin’ good and she couldn’t make it.” nancy chimed in, sipping her drip and sinking into the sofa next to her boyfriend.

steve’s shoulders tensed. “what kinda sick? like throwing up or just a cold?” he sat down, his leg bouncing.

the girl huffs out a laugh at the state of his panic, “she’s fine, steve. just a bit sniffly. calm down.”

calm cool and collected. totally the opposite of what he was right now. shit. was he being obvious?

and of course, nancy phones you to give you a debrief of the night - including steve’s concerns and constant questions throughout the night.

—

“whatcha thinkin’ about?” slow day was an overstatement. you had served one customer in the 2 hours you had been there.

“hm? oh, nothin’.” you replied, words rolling off your tongue yet the blush staining your cheeks said otherwise.

you wouldn’t have paid such close attention to his behaviour if you didn’t like him. of course you were flattered by the revelation, who wouldn’t be?

“okay. who are you thinkin’ about then.”

you whip your head around to meet his eyes. “huh?”

“you’re blushing, y/n.” your eyes widened.

“no.” he laughs at your response.

“yes.” there is that pink blush on the tip of his nose. he leans down to your level.

“steve?” you look up at him. the pink turns to a shade of maroon.

“hm?”

“i know you like me.” the blush spreads across his whole face, and you wouldn’t be exaggerating if you said it spread to his hands too.

“i- no- what—“ he’s a stuttering mess. it’s cute.

“steve.”

“hm?” he gulps.

“i like you too.” you smile sweetly, and he thinks his heart cries out with joy.

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hitchhiker || Chapter Fourteen || The Proxies

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: hella smut, hoodies a dick, rough sex, hair pulling, degrading, violence for like two seconds, just a sprinkle of blood but no blood kink, readers a horny ass mf, face fucking, breath play, slapping

<— previous chapter

You laid flat against the metal examination table, trying your hardest to not visibly cringe at the feeling of the coolness against your skin.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean you’re quite literally just now getting your stitches out. Then you plan to learn how to fight within the hour?” Nova questioned. EJ’s hands were oddly hot to the touch as he removed your stitches, his lips sealed as Nova went on her motherly lecture. Tim was right beside her, arms crossed and cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. How he convinced EJ to let him smoke in the cabin, you’d never know.

“This is extremely absurd and just, you know, ugh!” Nova exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried not to look down, your wound finally healing to your liking. The last thing you’d do was fuck it up now. “It’s also reckless, endangering, and just the slightest bit stupid,” Tim added. You rolled your eyes are EJ took a step back, his job now done. “You’re gonna have a g-gnarly scar,” Toby chimed in. You sat up, both Nova and Tim in a hurry to guide you to slow down. “Will you two knock it off? Jesus Christ,” You hissed. You shoved both of them off of you, rising to your feet.

“If training with Brian or Hoodie makes them feel better about Cat Hunter being a peeping tom then so be it,” You continued. You went to storm down the hallway, annoyed at the relentless overprotectiveness. Tim caught up with you, the sound of Nova, Toby, and EJ all bickering growing more distant as you walked forward.

“Yeah but you’re not training with Brian, you’re training with Hoodie.”

“Yeah? So?”

“Brian would go easy on you. Hoodie likes to see people in pain.”

“Luckily for me i’m a masochist, so that’ll work out.”

You steered into the nearest bathroom, pulling your hair into a ponytail. “He’s not going to take it easy on you,” Tim continued. You tightened your ponytail, before sliding a long sleeved shirt over your head. “I wouldn’t want him to. Cat Hunter certainly wouldn’t,” You replied coolly. You doubted anything could hurt more than being stabbed. You briefly stared at the scar that now tainted your skin, before shoving your shirt all of the way down. Picking up hand wraps you wrapped them around your hand, ensuring a good portion of your knuckles were secured.

You went to turn out of the bathroom, Tim hot on your trail. In the spare bedroom you had been sleeping in apparently Brian had rearranged it, shoving everything into the corners to give you both space to tussle. Just as you reached the door, Tim grabbed your shoulder to stop you from darting inside. “Hoodie’s weak point is his legs. They move faster than the rest of him. If he gets you on the ground knock his feet out from under him,” Tim instructed. You met his gaze, the brunette pulling the cigarette out from between his lips.

“Got it.”

You turned to the door, your fingertips just barely grazing the handle.

“Hey y/n?”

You sighed, looking over your shoulder, “Yes Tim?”

Tim grinned mischievously, taking a long inhale of his cigarette.

“Beat his ass for me, will ya?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself into the room. Hoodie’s gaze instantly fell on you, giving you a small wave. “I’ve gotta warn ya, I will not be going easy on you,” He said cautiously. You closed the door behind you, the door clicking shut. “So I keep hearing,” You mused. Hoodie raised an eyebrow, his puzzled expression one concealed under his mask. “It’s not a joke. Cat Hunter won’t have mercy on you and I won’t either,” He informed you. Shifting your weight on each foot, you narrowed your eyes. “Are you just going to yap or are you gonna hit me?” You asked cockily.

It was then you had wore out Hoodie’s patience, the proxy throwing himself at you. A flash of mustard yellow temporarily blinding you, your feet throwing you to the left. You narrowly missed his punch, causing him to stumble into the wall behind you. “See? I’m not as easy as you thought I was gonna be,” You gloated. He gritted his teeth, shooting daggers in your direction. Swiftly he turned around, grabbing you by your waist. You had expected him to throw you down on the bed, your eyes widening in terror as he threw you down on the ground instead. The air was knocked out of your lungs, a shooting pain going up your back.

Gasping for air you clawed at the ground, forcing yourself onto your elbows to prop yourself up. “Again,” Hoodie said plainly. Unsurely you rose to your feet, rising your fist. Hoodie frowned at the sight, grabbing your small fist. “Untuck your thumb. You’ll break it if you tuck it inside of your hand,” He advised. You used his brief instruction to your advantage, kicking his shin as hard as you could. Hoodie glared at you, seething as he launched himself at you. You managed to dodge a couple of his punches, one of them finally landing on your nose. A wave of dizziness and nausea washed over you, your vision briefly hazy. You stumbled back a few steps, your fingertips touching your nose.

Drops of blood coated your fingertips, your breath becoming shallow. You looked up at Hoodie, your once lover now turned into a sadistic fighting machine. “Hoodie I’m done,” You say firmly. You went to turn towards the door, his large hand grabbing your forearm. He twisted it backwards, a yelp of pain escaping your lips. “You’re done when I say you’re done,” He hissed. Panicking you stomped on his foot, the man gritting your teeth as he released your arm. You quickly turned around your palm connecting with his face. The impact was softer than you would’ve liked it to be, the mask providing some sort of cushion to him.

When you realized the impact wasn’t as strong as you wanted it to be, you lifted your knee. With all of your strength you kneed him in the crotch, the masked man instantly hunching over. You were breathing deeply at this point, taking a couple of steps backwards. You wiped your upper lip, the crimson paint smearing across your hand. You tried to ignore the nauseating sensation, watching as Hoodie collected himself. He steadied himself against the wall, panting as his mind was in a whirl wind. You swallowed, bending over and leaning against a wall. You put your hands on your knees, the blood from your nose dripping onto the floor. It was then the bedroom door swung open, a horrified Tim standing in the doorway. His gloved hands gripped the wooden frame, before storming inside.

Unfortunately, he saw what you and Hoodie were too blind to see. Hoodie, an alter who was created due to his sadistic tendencies, up to a certain degree lacks self control. From personal experience Tim knew it didn’t matter how much he cared for someone. Once he felt that nagging little shock of pleasure from inflicting pain, it was over. His common sense and personal feelings towards the individual were overridden. Offering to train you of all people was a terrible idea. Now you on the other hand, were too stubborn to know when to quit. Hoodie could’ve beat you to a bloody pulp and you’d egg him on to continue until you lost consciousness. Both of your ignorance only made Tim more angry.

“Enough of this bullshit! Y/n you’re fucking done. Go get cleaned up,” Tim barked. You shot him a dirty look, his face briefly showing concern as his gaze fell on your bloody nose. You forced yourself to stand up straight, cracking your back as you did so. Hoodie yanked off his ski mask, a visible purple bruise forming around his eye. Had you hit him that close to his eye? You swallowed as you two looked at each other, both of you sharing the same thought. “Get out Tim,” Hoodie said calmly. Tim felt like a hopeless mother, whose two children had turned to the devils crack. “What?” Tim sputtered. You didn’t break your eye contact with Hoodie, the fight far from over. “You heard him, get out,” You repeated. Tim stood his ground, before shaking his head.

“If I hear anymore thudding i’m coming back,” Tim muttered. Against his better judgment he grabbed the door handle, walking out of the room. “No Tim to save you now,” Hoodie taunted. The sadistic smirk that crept up his lips made him almost look like a foreign stranger to you. “Wouldn’t wanna have it any other way,” You replied. Before you could comprehend it, Hoodie was on you. Your back clashed with the closest wall, his large gloved hand wrapped around your throat. You squirmed under his grasp, swallowing as he restricted your airway. “Cmon. Fight me off. Get on with it,” He instructed mockingly. You thrashed your limbs underneath him, your finger attempting to pry his hand off of your throat.

Your attempt to move your legs annoyed Hoodie, the oldest proxy wedging his knee in between them. He stared down at you mercilessly, noting the audible whimper that left your lips. Hoodie recognized that sound. It wasn’t one you released from genuine pain. He chuckled darkly, smirking down at you. "I knew you weren't as vanilla as Brian wanted to make you seem," He snickered. Re-adjusting his fingers he squeezed your throat tighter, your breath forced to become shallow. He pushed his knee up higher, rubbing right against your throbbing core. You let out another whimper, your body betraying you. "Fuck you," You hissed, your fingers were still attempting Hoodie's off of your neck. This seemed to only amuse him further.

"I fuckin knew it. Brian tried to tell me otherwise but I knew you were a pain slut. You looked so happy after Masky had his way with you," Hoodie told you. Hoodie could feel your pulse quicken under his grasp, a sadistic grin spreading across his lips. He leaned closer to you, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry i'll make you feel way better then Masky. You want that, don't you?" He purred. His teeth grazed your earlobe, your hips involuntarily grinding down against his knee. "Just say the word, i'll leave you squirming," Hoodie instructed. You nodded profusely, mumbling an agreement as you grinded down against his knee. "Good whore. But first, you owe me," He hissed. He released you from his grasp, shoving you down onto your knees. You ignored the harsh wood that dug into your knees, your focus centered on the man who stood before you.

"Open your goddman mouth," Hoodie barked. He began to undo his belt, before shoving his pants and boxers down in one shift motion. You flattened out your tongue, your mouth watering at the sight of his cock as it stood in front of your face. Hoodie pushed you backwards, the back of your head hitting the wall. "If you try to pussy out and use your hands i'll cut em off. Understand?" He asked. You nodded, opening your mouth. It felt restrictive, the inability to move making you wetter by the minute. You kept your hands on your knees, Hoodie quick to shove his cock to the back of your throat. The unexpected action made you gag, your eyes watering and head going to move out of instinct. Your eyes only widened more when you realized you had no where to go, your lungs running out of oxygen. "Loosen your jaw slut, cmon," Hoodie grunted. You tried to complete his request, your focus shifting to breathing through your nose.

Your fingers clawed at your knees, the man finally beginning to buck his hips. He pulled out slowly, before ramming his cock back down your throat again. His soft grunts and the sound of his cock abusing you flooded your ears, your core throbbing with desire. "Touch yourself for me. Go on slut. Desperation is painted all over your slutty face," Hoodie huffed. He continued to fuck your face, your hand now slipping down to your cunt. You drew circles around your clit, relishing in the feeling of some sort of friction. Your groans sent vibrations around his cock, the man above you biting his lower lip to conceal his sinful noises. "I should've done this sooner. Such a perfect mouth," Hoodie panted. He gripped the bottom of your chin, holding your face in place as he held his cock down your throat. "You're such a pathetic whore. Allowing me to use you like this," He taunted. He briefly pulled his cock out of your throat, your lungs gasping for air.

Saliva trickled down your chin and his shaft onto the floor, his hand still holding you firmly. "I have a surprise for you doll face," Hoodie snickered. He watched as your hand continued to circle your clit, getting off on every word that came out of his mouth. He dug in his back pocket, pulling out your missing pair of red panties. The moment your brain registered what he was holding, he shoved them in your mouth. You cringed at the feeling of the fabric against your tongue, the man crouching down before you. You could faintly taste something salty in the clothing, your hand not letting up for a moment. "Do you know how long i've waited to have you like this? All horny and desperate? At my disposal?" He asked. Mockingly he stroked your cheek as lovingly as he could muster, your eyes full of lustful terror. "You can't blame me for using your panties to get off. You were too busy taking my best friends cocks," He grinned, tapping your face.

You felt so disgusted, that disgust only making you wetter. "So desperate to get off huh? You'd cum just from my words?" Hoodie mused. You felt your face flush red as you realized your hand hadn't let up for a moment. Hoodie grabbed you, taking your place and sitting against the wall. He roughly grabbed your shorts and panties, practically ripping them off of you. He grabbed your waist, forcing you to straddle his thigh. "Go on doll face. Get yourself on my thigh," He ordered. Unsurely you put your hands on his shoulders for support, grinding your cunt down against his thigh. You could visibly see a wet patch forming against his jeans, Hoodie's hand slowly jerking his own cock. With his other hand he grabbed your throat, forcing you to look at him in the eyes.

"Just know if you cum on my thigh I won't make you cum again," He informed you tauntingly. You gripped his shoulders tighter, your desire to cum clouding your judgement. You continued to roll your hips against his thigh, the rough material of his jeans only sending waves of pleasure up your spine. Your eyes threatened to flutter shut, a sharp slap delivering itself to your face. You yelped in pain, Hoodie chuckling darkly as your skin turned bright red. "Doesn't feel so nice being hit, does it?" He taunted. You shook your head no, your sinful noises muffled by the panties wadded in your mouth. Hoodie was growing impatient, his large hands grabbing your waist forcing you to grind against him faster. "I'm getting bored doll face. Better hurry up and cum before I change my mind," He threatened. You moaned loudly, your clit brushing against him just right. The cord inside of your stomach tightened, your orgasm coming faster than you would've liked it to.

You bit down on the fabric, a muffled warning unable to escape your lips as his fingers dug harder into your hips. "Hoodie!" You cried, pawing at his chest as you came on his thigh. You felt humiliated, your juices soaking his pants. "Oh you slut, you've done it now," Hoodie huffed. He grabbed you again, repositioning you to his liking. This time he forced you to your feet, your face and chest smushed against the wall as Hoodie positioned himself behind you. One of his large hands cupped your head, the harsh wood scraping against your cheek as Hoodie rubbed him up and down your soaking folds. You squirmed under the sensation of his tip brushing against your swollen clit. "You're such a fucking tease, you know that? Letting us all use you but making me go last?" He hissed. You swallowed as he shoved himself inside of you, your eyes screwing shut. Your walls struggled to get accustomed to his girth, your gummy walls clinging onto his cock as he shoved himself in deeper.

"You're paying me back though, aren't you doll face?" He snickered. He leaned closer to your ear, his cockiness practically radiating off of him. "I'll be able to watch you fall apart on my cock again and again and again," Hoodie whispered. Your eyes widened, his hand guiding you to look to your left. Sure enough, an old fashioned camera sat on the bed, pointed directly at the two of you. "You always wanted to be an actress right? Congratulations on your first big role," Hoodie chuckled. He fully bottomed out inside of you, grabbing both of your arms. He pinned them behind your back, face now fully smushed against the wall. He yanked your panties out of your mouth, relishing in satisfaction as your own saliva trailed down your chin at its removal. "Gonna wanna hear you moan my name over and over," He grinned. He began to slowly move his hips, his fingers harshly digging into your arms.

Hoodie tossed the panties aside, the unholy noises finally falling from your lips freely. You whined as he began to pick up the pace, his cock brushing against your g spot. “I make you feel so much better than the other two, don’t I?” Hoodie purred. The pain had fully faded into pleasure, your eyes fluttering shut as you let the man behind you use you as he pleased. When you failed to respond he delivered a sharp slap to your ass, causing your legs to quiver. “Answer me slut. I’m better than them, aren’t I?” He growled. You babbled a mindless agreement, strings of curses leaving your lips as he pounded into you. Hoodie watched as he thrust into you, your juices creaming around his cock. It made him fuck you harder, your moans only growing louder.

“Such a noisy whore,” Hoodie snarled. He grabbed a handful of your hair, his other hand ensuring your arms were held behind your back. “Open your eyes slut. Tell the camera how good I make you feel,” He grunted. His thrust were merciless, his cock abusing your g spot as it pleased. “So good, so fucking good Hoodie,” You groaned. You cringed as he yanked at your hair harder, pounding into you so hard he was fucking you against the wall. “I’m gonna cum in you. Understand? You’re my fucking cum dump,” He huffed. He could feel your walls squeeze him tighter at the sound of his filthy words. “Awe you like that don’t you? If I could have it my way i’d keep you chained to my wall so I could fill you up anytime I want to,” He groaned. He could feel himself getting close, your walls milking his cock. “Fuck, such a tight fucking hole,” He mumbled. With those words his hips stuttered, his cum painting your inner walls. You bit your bottom lip, your own orgasm still boiling in the pit of your stomach. Hoodie groaned as he pulled out of you, watching his cum drip down in between your inner thighs.

“Fucking hell,” He mumbled. Slowly you turned around, meeting his satisfied gaze. “What about me?” You asked. Hoodie tilted his head to the side. “What about you?” He replied. He began to redress himself, the action making you form a look of horror. “Y-you didn’t make me cum,” You stuttered. Hoodie buttoned up his pants, taking a step towards you. “I told you if you came on my thigh I wouldn’t let you cum again. Listen better next time doll face,” He grinned. He planted a kiss to your forehead before fixing his belt. “Go clean yourself up, you’re filthy,” Hoodie teased, cocking his head towards the door. Humiliated, you glanced over at your shorts, shoving them back on as your core continued to throb. You trudged to the main bathroom, only to find it locked.

Fuck.

You stormed down the stairs, the living room empty. Using EJ’s bathroom was not something you wanted to do, but you needed to find somewhere private. You crept into his bathroom, flicking the light on. It was empty. You sighed as you shut the door, clicking the lock shut. Glancing in the mirror you looked like a fucked out mess, your spit still staining your chin along with the dried blood from your nose. You studied yourself for a moment, before trying to comb through your hair. It was then you heard an all too familiar voice.

“Fuck Jack! Please don’t stop, fuck!”

Your face turned red as you realized the wall to his bathroom and bedroom were connected. You could hear Jack grunt as he pounded into Nova in the other room. The walls were so thin you could hear the sound of skin clapping together. You knew it was wrong, the way her moans made your core throb. You put one hand over your mouth, concealing your loud breathing. With the other you brought two fingers to your aching clit, drawing fast circles around it.

“You like that? Yeah? Fucking take it.”

You had hardly heard Jack speak, but the sound of the two of them going at it was enough to get you off. That you were sure of. It was then you heard the shower curtain move, heat running to your cheeks. “H-hello gorgeous,” Toby greeted. He climbed out of the tub, watching as you scrambled to remove your hand from your shorts. “Toby! What the fuck are you doing in here?” You whisper yelled. Toby shrugged, taking note of your frazzled appearance. “There’s t-two bedrooms in this house. Both of which had couples f-f-fucking in them when I wanted to nap. I’ve slept in bath tubs before,” He explained. He brought himself closer to you, pressing you against the sink. His fingertips teasingly traced your jawline, making you shudder under his touch.

“Did y-you come in here to t-t-touch yourself? To the sound of EJ f-fuck-king Nova?” He whispered tauntingly. You felt your face go red. “No I didn’t! Hoodie didn’t let me cum,” You whined. Toby grinned at your confession. He shoved your pants down to your ankles, exposing your glistening cunt. “Why didn’t you just s-say so? I’ll take care of you,” Toby purred. He dropped to his knees, bringing his mouth to your aching heat. You gripped onto the sink, your hand flying back over your mouth as he began to devour your cunt. His large, slender hands pried your thighs apart. He licked Hoodie’s cum from off of your thigh, cleaning you entirely with his tongue. You whined as he sucked at your clit, trying your hardest to keep your sinful noises concealed.

“F-fuck, i’m gonna fucking cum, please let me cum Jack!”

Nova’s moans and pleas echoed through out your ears as Toby lapped at your folds. You gripped his hair with your other hand, grinding against his face. Toby gripped your thighs harder, his bony fingers promising to leave bruises in the morning. You could feel the cord inside of you tighten, your walls tightening around Toby’s tongue as he teased your entrance.

“Thats it, cum for me.”

Jacks words sent you over the edge, your body too desperate for release to ignore his command. You bit your bottom lip so hard you were sure it was bleeding, releasing all over Toby’s tongue. You squirmed as he cleaned you with his mouth again, swallowing every drop of your cum. He brought himself to his feet, undoing his belt. “C-cumming for Jack? W-when you d-don’t even know him? Filthy fuckin s-slut,” Toby whispered. He shoved his pants down, his cock springing out and brushing against your folds. He was quick to shove himself inside of you, your cunt dripping wet. “You s-should be thanking me f-for fucking you,” He growled. Faintly you could hear Jack and Nova resume their own sinful activities, her moans anything but subtle.

Toby realized you were distracted, a frown forming across his lips. He grabbed your clit between his index and middle finger, squeezing it hard. You whined, your eyes widening as you looked up at Toby. “Thank m-me whore. T-thank me for fucking y-you,” He huffed. You nodded, whispering babbles of gratitude as he began to thrust his hips into you without warning. You could taste the metallic liquid dripping into your mouth as you bit your bottom lip, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Toby fucked you. He watched as your body went limp, allowing him to use you as a mindless sex doll. Toby noticed you were bleeding, forcing your hand away from your mouth.

He shoved his tongue inside of your mouth, lapping at the blood as it spilled from your bottom lip. You groaned, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your final orgasm. Which each snap of Toby’s hips you found yourself lost in euphoria, your eyes fluttering shut as you came one last time. Toby swallowed your moans, groaning into your mouth as he came inside of you. You were a panting mess, leaning your head back against the mirror. “D-don’t worry i’ll get you a plan b,” Toby mumbled, slowly slipping out of you. You found the strength to sit up, Nova and Jack’s sinful noises still audible as they went at it like wild animals.

“Hey can you pick me up a pair of scissors when you go?”

“What do y-you need that for?”

“Brian needs a haircut.”

—> next chapter

[cupidddd-d]

dumb love, i love being stupid

this is just a personal theory, but love is the most twisted curse of them all

wc: 1,891

pt. 2

it was stupid to have an affair with a married man. you knew he couldn't fully commit to you, and yet, like an idiot, you still went and fell in love with him. and like an even bigger idiot, he fell in love with you too.

you lay on the couch with him, enjoying another stolen moment before he's forced to go home to his wife. there's a lingering discomfort that settles deep within your bones, but you push it down.

"you're so pretty, you know that?" he says in a hushed tone, despite no one else being there to overhear him.

"i think i do know. after all, you say it every day, don't you?" you tease, nudging him playfully.

your smiles slowly fade as a familiar, high-pitched noise penetrates the air. but that chiming of his phone isn't just a noise. it's a special ringtone dedicated solely to his wife. it's the noise that shatters the perfect illusion of happiness that exists only in your home. because you can't be happy. not like this.

"i'll go wait in the kitchen. you should have privacy to talk to your wife," you offer him a tight-lipped smile, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you stand up.

satoru cranes his head up, leaning as far into your touch as possible. it makes you laugh quietly, momentarily distracting you from the self-deprecating thoughts that swirl around inside your head.

you immediately busy yourself with making a cup of hot tea, not wanting to eavesdrop on his conversation. you knew you were just the other woman. maybe he loved you back, but he still had a wife waiting for him at home.

you had to be cool. you had to be the cool girl if you wanted him to stay. but sometimes it didn't even feel worth it anymore. what was the point in being cool if he couldn't be fully yours?

you stared down at your steaming mug, barely noticing his footsteps get closer and closer until you schooled your features into a mask of cheerfulness. "done already?"

"you don't have to fake your emotions with me, baby. i know you're upset, and i-i'm really sorry. i feel awful that you have to go through this." he says quietly, cupping your face and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.

"you clearly don't feel awful enough, seeing as you still haven't done anything about it." your tone is clipped and bitter, a pang of guilt settling in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have said that."

he winces, glancing down at his feet. "no, you shouldn't have to apologize. i-i know i deserved that. it's not that i don't feel bad, i do. it's just..."

"complicated?"

"i'm sorry." and he is sorry. but it's not enough for you anymore.

"of course it's complicated, satoru...but you told me you loved me. you told me you'd get a divorce. you told me that you wanted to shout from the rooftops about how much you loved me." your voice is embarrassingly fragile, and you hope he doesn't notice.

he rakes a hand through his silver hair, a gesture so familiar and endearing it aches. "i meant all of that, my love. i swear. i do want a divorce, but my parents won't let me,"

he reaches out for your hand, and you let him. he rubs the same soothing circles over your knuckles as he always does, but this time it does nothing to placate you.

"you're a grown man, satoru. you can make your own decisions now." you say quietly, tensing under his touch.

"i know that," he whispers, squeezing your hand. "but it's not that simple. they're my family. they wanted me to get married, and i can't disappoint them. their opinions are...everything, to me."

there's a slow dawn of resignation that comes to you, and it makes your shoulders slump with defeat. "i understand."

you stare up at him with a devastated look on your face you clearly don't cover up well enough, or maybe he just knows you too well. you allow yourself a selfish moment to engrave his face into your mind one last time. despite the numerous photos of him that sit in your camera roll, there isn't a single one of them that does his beauty any justice.

"please don't look at me like that, baby. please, don't..." he whimpers beseechingly, leaning down to your level with a pleading expression. "please, my love. don't look at me like i've already lost you,"

you take a deep, shuddering breath as you cup his face, trying to put on a brave face for his sake. "i know you're torn between me and your family..."

he shivers, looking so miserable you want to cry. he leans into your touch, desperate for any shred of comfort he can get. "i-i wish i could have it all, but i can't. but p-please, don't give up on me...please,"

"so i'll choose for you, satoru." you continue softly, leaning your forehead against his. you shut your eyes, breathing in his scent before the moment ends. every last one of his details needs to be committed to memory before you let him go. you need to let him go. it's for the greater good.

citrus, cedarwood, and mint. citrus, cedarwood, and mint. citrus, cedarwood, and mint. citrus, cedarwood, and mint.

"n-no, no, no! don't do this, please don't do this...please, don't do this to me," he pleads, his lips quivering. he grabs your wrists, refusing to let go as if you'd slip away from his grasp otherwise. "i'm begging you, please,"

"i wish it didn't have to be like this, satoru." you bite your tongue, determined not to cry. in this moment, at least one of you has to be strong.

"please, it doesn't have to be! w-we can fix this, please...! i can't lose you," desperation claws at his throat, his voice breaking as tears freely drip down his cheeks.

this man who is always so proud, so egotistical, is kneeling at your feet, hugging your waist and bowing his head into your stomach as if you are a goddess to be worshiped. he looks up at you pitifully with that yearning gaze you've become so accustomed to, as if you're his only salvation.

"satoru," you say softly, tracing a gentle finger over his cheekbone. "you'll be alright, i know it. can you promise me something?"

he shakes his head frantically, letting out a sob as he grips the fabric of your shirt. "n-no, no, i'll never be alright if you leave me, i swear it! p-please, please don't l-leave me, i'll do anything!"

"promise me that one day, if things ever become...less complicated, that you'll come find me. one day, if you have no other ties holding you down--no wife, no family you're worried about disappointing, i'd like you to come to me. i'll be waiting for you, alright?" you offer him a weak smile, the sight of his anguish too much to bear.

"i promise. i'm yours, a-always. i'll come find you, i swear." he whispers, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen as he slowly stands back up.

he envelops you in a hug, and for a moment, everything feels okay again. one arm wrapped around your waist, one hand cradling the back of your head to press you further into him. there is no safer space than in his arms, and it's a haven that you will soon no longer have access to.

"satoru...do you think we'd be happy in another universe?"

"so happy...we'd be the happiest...but not in this one. we're not meant to have our happy ending, are we?" he laughs bitterly, his arms clutching you tighter as if to mold your body to his.

"we might," you say halfheartedly. his cologne is stronger in this proximity.

citrus, cedarwood, and mint.

"still such an optimist, aren't you?" he laughs again, and it's a humorless, hollow sound that doesn't fit him at all.

"i know this is selfish, but...could i kiss you? one last time?" you whisper, your composure cracking as a single tear drips from your eye.

he instinctively brushes your tears away with his nimble fingers, not even taking a second thought to do so. "of course, my love. you can have anything you want. just ask, and it's yours. i'd give you...everything."

he sounds absolutely gutted, and it makes your heart shatter. how could this possibly be for the greater good if it feels so painful?

he kisses you the same way a drowning man claws for his last pockets of air--desperately, breathlessly, pleadingly. he kisses you like he's starving for your touch, and in a way, he is. he kisses you as if he's trying to remember the feel of your lips, the taste of your mouth in case he never gets to again, and you know he is--because you're doing the same.

he lets out a wounded noise as you pull away, chasing your lips. just to feel you one last time.

"i don't blame you for leaving. not one bit, baby. but i swear to you--i swear on my life, i'll find you again one day. and i won't be such a fool next time. i'll be the man you deserve, i promise." he lets out a shaky breath, resting his forehead against yours.

"i look forward to that day, satoru. i'll be waiting for you."

"i wish i could keep you forever," he whispers.

"i know. me too." you take a moment to breathe and collect yourself, knowing that if he stays for much longer, you won't have the strength to break up with him.

you cradle his face with your hands, memorizing the exact sensation of his hair between your fingers. "i love you," you speak into his skin as you press a lingering kiss on his forehead, almost hoping that he'd absorb your words and never forget how much you meant to him.

truthfully, you didn't really believe that he would come back to you one day. but as long as he could have his family, as long as he was happy, you would be fine.

he turns his head and brushes his lips against the inside of your wrist, a reverent act that makes your heart twist.

"goodbye satoru," you can't even muster up the strength to smile. satoru was your strength, your happiness, your love, your everything. and once he left your house, he would take all of that with him.

the sound of your front door closing is a white-hot spike driving into your stomach. it's so definitive, so final that you feel your heart break just a little bit more.

you watch him leave with a familiar ache in your chest, trying to ignore the way his shoulders shake, or the way he drags his feet. you try to ignore the way he turns back with a desolate expression, seeking your gaze one last time. you try to ignore the way his fists clench so tightly that blood trickles down his fingers. but you can't, so you close your curtains and turn away so you can cry properly.

he's not dead, so why does it feel as if you're mourning him?

[simjaexy]

Skincare With Sunoo

Pairing ⇀ Idol bf! Kim Sunoo x Fem! Reader

Synopsis ⇀ You noticed Sunoo been stressing about work, so you decide to make him feel better with a skin care night.

Genre ⇀ Fluff, Drabble

A/n ⇀ I need Sunoo skincare routine. Not proofread!

Masterlist here

Sunoo slumped into the couch, rubbing his temples. The stress from work was evident in his furrowed brows and tired eyes.

You noticed his fatigue and decided it was time for a little pampering session to lift his spirits.

"Hey, Sunoo," you called softly, walking over with a warm smile. "Are you okay?”

Sunoo gave you a tight smile, the last thing he wanted to do was stress you out too, “I’m fine pretty.”

You blushed at his sudden comment and giggled, “I know something’s up.”

He suddenly stopped smiling, “I don’t like how you know everything.”

You shrugged your shoulders. You always knew when something is wrong with Sunoo. You suddenly had an idea pop in your head

“How about we do a skincare routine together? It might help you relax. Besides, we haven’t done it in a while.”

He looked up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That sounds nice," he replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

“Okay give me a minute!” You chimed. Sunoo looked at you confused as you walked away. What were you doing?

You soon came back and led him to the bathroom, where you had already set up everything. The soft glow of candles and the soothing scent of lavender filled the room.

You walked over to him with a headband to keep his hair out of his face and put it on his head.

You began with a gentle cleanser, massaging it into his skin with slow, circular motions.

As you worked through the routine—toner, serum, sheet mask—you chatted about lighter topics, making him laugh and forget about the stress for a while.

“Wait — so Riki pranked Jake?” You chuckled. Sunoo nodded his head, laughing recalling the memory.

The cool sensation of the mask and your tender care gradually melted away his tension.

Finally, you applied a hydrating moisturizer, sealing in all the goodness. Sunoo sighed contentedly, his skin glowing and his mood visibly lifted.

"Thank you," he said, pulling you into a hug. "I really needed that."

"Anytime," you whispered back, happy to see him feeling better.

[immajustvibehere]

Quiet, Solitude Hour

Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader

summary: On a hot afternoon, you find camp deserted with only one lazy cowboy to keep you company.

warning: slightly suggestive, Arthur is some years younger than he was in the game (it's up to you how much tho)

960 words, 5 minutes reading time

Credit to oolonglatte on Twitter! The drawing inspired this fanfiction :)

Camp was uncommonly deserted today. The majority was out on jobs, including Dutch and Miss Grimshaw, whose absence left a void in the usual hierarchy of overseeing and assigning chores. The sun blazed overhead, and whoever wasn't working was seeking shelter in the next saloon or going for a dip in a nearby lake. Even Mr Pearson, who normally remained within the bounds camp, had wandered off with Tilly to fish at a creek.

Having just completed the task of unloading hay from the wagon and neatly arranging it beneath a modest, hastily assembled shelter, you were convinced that you were the only one at camp. But then you saw a wispy thread of smoke rising from Arthur's tent. Not the black sort of smoke you get when you light a campfire, no, someone was smoking a cigarette. It must be Arthur, though his body was well hidden behind the crates that surround his tent.

You grinned as a prospect for diversion and amusement presented itself. You walked up to him, the grass and soil beneath your feet masked any audible approach. Slowly, Arthur’s body appeared. Recumbent upon his cot, Arthur wore nothing but jeans and boots. It looked as if he had hastily unclothed after a ride and now was trying to cool down. It was clear that he hadn’t expected anybody to be here, because even his belt was discarded in the grass, the jeans’ button and zipper had been undone nonchalantly, the latter halfway at best.

You observed the dark hair on his body that thickened beneath the curvature of his navel, only to lead down where it was swallowed by the shadow cast by his jeans. Arthur wasn't one to run around topless very often. You tried to remember when you ever saw him like this, only to realize it must have been years ago if ever.

You smiled contently. Arthur's eyes were closed and when he led the cigarette to his mouth, this happened on instinct and with a perfectly studied movement.

It felt forbidden, watching him like that. So you snuck away, heading for the create in the shadow where the gang kept some bottles of beer. The crate was buried in the ground to exploit every damp coolness that the earth had to offer. When you returned, two moderately cool bottles in hand, Arthur remained blissfully oblivious to your presence. The hand unoccupied by the cigarette, it had since shrunken significantly and would only be good for two more drags, was tracing circles on his lower abdomen. You watched as his fingers sifted through the strands of hair, a gentle caress which underlined that his thoughts were miles away.

Gently, you allowed the bottles to emit a soft chime as they touched and spoke softly: "Hope I'm not interrupting something?" More calmy than you had expected he'd react on the disturbance, Arthur's eyelids parted at a leisurely pace to meet your presence.

"'Course not", Arthur sat up slowly, smiling when you came closer, offering him a bottle. The remnants of his cigarette were extinguished before his fingers grasped the offered refreshment. Then he shifted along the cot, patting the fabric next to him. You sat down and only when your arm lightly brushed against his, Arthur seemed to wake up from his daydream.

He jumped up and put the bottle down on a table.

"Sorry I wasn't expecting someone to be here. Ain't proper to run around like that", Arthur grinned cheekily for a fleeting moment, before he stretched his limbs, righting his jeans and grabbing a shirt.   "Oh, come on!", you giggled, "It's damn hot today, I don't blame you."

Arthur's eyes rested on you for moment. He must have noticed that you also had more buttons unbuttoned than usual, because, though he put his shirt on, sleeved rolled up to expose his forearms, he didn't bother buttoning it, but only cramped the edges into his jeans.

"What've you been up to?", you asked as Arthur sat down next to you again. You still saw some of the drowsiness in him. The hot air had made him tired and if you hadn't disturbed him, he might have dozed off soon.

"Jus' been out riding. I was looking into a lead Hosea told me."

"Is it a good one?", you asked, smilingly. You didn't know where you took the courage from all of a sudden, but you put your hand on top of Arthur's that was resting between your bodies.

"Y-yeah, think so...", Arthur almost choked on the answer, surprised about the hand holding. Well, it wasn’t entirely unexpected, because the two of you had been sweet on one another for some time now. But Arthur's method of dealing with his feelings was to stay away from camp as much as possible, because there was no way you felt the same and he wanted to get over this silly crush. He hadn't expected you to...like him back. Not even talking about daring to do the first move.

"Nobody's going to be back for another hour…", you said, standing up to look around camp. Your hand was still loosely holding Arthur's who was watching you in awe.

"We should make use of this", you grinned suggestively.

Arthur's Adam’s apple visibly bobbed as he swallowed.

"Ya sure? Y/N I didn't know you felt like this...", Arthur said, visibly flustered.

"Now you know", your cheeks were flushed from the confession.

You sat down on Arthur's lap, facing him. Arthur's hands immediately wandered to your hip, holding it in place while looking up to you. Slowly, you pulled out the edge of the shirt that Arthur had crammed into his jeans, undoing the work he had done only a minute ago. But Arthur didn’t mind that at all.

[mechaknight-98]

Gathering CEDH edition Birds of Paradise

Author’s note: Optimization furthers as I try to sharpen the story.

stroll up to our rendezvous fashionably late, but the guys greet me with raised eyebrows and a mix of surprise and concern.

"Um, we've got a bit of a situation," Connor blurts out.

"Yeah, we need you to watch our backs," Dexter adds, his tone urgent.

"Alright, spill the beans before we dive into this," I reply, trying to keep my cool despite the unexpected turn of events.

Following the uproarious success of the "Fearless Kkura" episode, Connor and Dexter found themselves fielding calls from various companies eager to tap into their expertise with idols. Amidst the flood of emails, Connor's phone buzzes with a call from Jennifer Huh.

"Yo, Jenny, what's crackin'?" Connor answers, brimming with excitement.

"Hey, so don't freak out, but I sorta RSVPed you and me for a gala in Florida," Jennifer confesses.

"Why? You know I'm not a fan of those formal shindigs," Connor retorts.

"Well, Chaewon and Kkura had tight schedules, Kazuha's chilling in Japan, and Eunchae's practically a baby," Jennifer explains.

"Fair point... Before I reluctantly agree, what's this gala all about?" Connor inquires, wary of Jennifer's sudden enthusiasm for fancy affairs.

"Oh, it's a Tricell Charity Gala, honoring survivors of bio-terrorist attacks. My family made it out alive thanks to Tricell's aid during a crisis in New Jersey," Jennifer elaborates.

Connor sighs, attempting to mask his inner turmoil, but Jennifer, being Jennifer, picks up on his unease like a shark scenting blood in the water.

"Ah, that sigh. I know that sigh. That's the 'please don't make me do this' sigh," Jennifer remarks, her intuition sharp as ever.

"I'm not sure, Jen. Sounds like walking into a danger zone," Connor hesitates.

"What're you not telling me?" Jennifer presses, sensing there's more to the story.

"Oh, what the heck. Count me in," Connor concedes, against his better judgment.

Arriving a day ahead of schedule to meet Yunjin, Connor is taken aback by the absence of a welcoming committee as she approaches my rental. She envelops him in a warm hug.

"Hey, Connor! How's it hanging?" she chirps, eyeing my choice of wheels with a playful smirk. "Wow, you really diggin' that truck, huh?"

He offers a sheepish nod, managing a grin. "Doing alright, and yeah, I'm quite fond of it. Hungry?"

Yunjin nods eagerly, and the duo hops into the rental, heading for a quaint café nearby.

En route, Connor turns to Jennifer. "So, Jen, while we're here, I need to catch up with my sister and mom," Connor started, hinting at his plans.

"Oh, I'll tag along," Jennifer chimes in.

"That's not what I had in mind," Connor points out.

"Too bad, I'm crashing the party," Jennifer declares, flashing a mischievous grin. He groans in defeat as we pull up to a cozy Creole café just a stone's throw from the hotel and airport. Over a meal, Yunjin broaches the topic of His beef with Tricell.

He tenses up momentarily but then decides that honesty is the best policy. Taking a cue from Dexter's/My playbook, and he dives into oversharing mode. "Well, I lost both my folks to the T-virus outbreak back in '98, masterminded by Tricell's former bigwig, Albert Wesker. His son, Alexander, also cost me my adopted older brother. So, yeah, I've got a bone to pick with Umbrella, Tricell, and the Weskers. But hey, they're supposedly turning over a new leaf, right? If not, I'll happily take 'em down again."

"So, you and Dexter both have a score to settle with the Wesker clan?" Jennifer probes, surprising him with her insight.

"Wait, how'd you know that? Dex never mentioned anything about it," Connor replies, taken aback.

"Well, Kkura spilled the beans. Apparently, Eunbi spilled the tea after her second date with Dex," Jennifer reveals.

"Eunbi and Dex?" Connor exclaims, connecting the dots.

"Yeah, Kkura played matchmaker after your stint on 'Fearless Kkura' together," Jennifer confirms.

"That explains a lot," Connor muses, reflecting on Dexter's recent trips to Korea.

"Indeed. They make quite the adorable couple," Jennifer adds, steering the conversation back to romance. "Speaking of which, are you still chasing after Giselle... I mean Aeri?"

"Nah, she's not into guys like me," Connor confesses.

"Really now?"

"Okay, let me rephrase that: I don't think she's into me like that."

"Ah, gotcha. Maybe she can sense that you're taken?" Jennifer teases, her disappointment palpable.

"Cut it out, Jen," Connor chirps, rolling my eyes.

"Why? Don't you like me?" Jennifer pouts, her expression genuinely crestfallen.

"Yeah, but c'mon, you're the fabulous Ms. Starlet herself, Yunjin Jennifer Huh. I'm just plain ol' Connor Sun-Won Young," Connor quips.

"Wait, is 'Sun-Won' your middle name?" Jennifer probes further.

"Not the point, but no, it's actually Connor. Sun-Won's my middle name, but it's easier for most folks to say," Connor explains.

"Got it. From now on, you're Sunny," Jennifer declares, earning an exaggerated groan from me.

"Anyway, Dex had a run-in with a Wesker during his college days. There was an outbreak at his school, and let's just say it didn't end well," Jennifer divulges, catching Connor off guard.

"I wish he'd told me about that," Connor admits, feeling a pang of hurt.

Connor nods in acknowledgment. After they finish their meal, Connor escorts Yunjin to her hotel to help her with her luggage. As he bids farewell, confusion clouds her expression. "Hey, where are you off to?" she wonders aloud.

"To visit my mom, then back to my hotel room," Connor replies hesitantly.

"Uh, why?" Yunjin probes, cornering him.

"Your manager made it clear that while you're here, you're to be 'untouched,'" Connor responds.

Yunjin laughs, "Um, how about no?" she says, grabbing him by his necklace. Tilting her head as she inspects it, she remarks, "Oh, this is nice. It suits you. Is it new?"

"No, I just got it back," Connor answers.

"Well, it looks good on you. Silver suits you," Yunjin compliments as she pulls Connor onto the bed. As they both gaze up at the ceiling, an awkward silence descends.

"So, have you asked Aeri out yet?" Jen's voice breaks the silence.

Connor turns to her and responds, "She laughed and said she sees me as an older brother."

Jen stifles a chuckle before saying, "You, an older brother? Oh, I'm so sorry. Come here, hug Noona to make it all better." Connor accepts her hug but scowls at her use of "Noona."

"Noona? Where did that come from? I'm older than you," Connor retorts.

She squints at him, "No, you're not?" Connor groans, pulling out his ID to prove his point. Yunjin smirks, "Huh, I guess you are my oppa then. Sorry, Oppa. That explains why Aeri was calling you that now. I thought she liked you."

"It's no big deal," Connor responds.

"I just thought because you're such a teddy bear that you were younger than Chae and I," Jen rebuts.

"Nope. I'm a year older than Kkura, to be exact, six months. But I digress," Connor says matter-of-factly.

Connor gets up and begins the process of heading to his mom's place. Jennifer is all smiles as she also gets up with him. They get into his car and drive to Miami, where his mother resides. Upon arriving, Connor begins to get cold feet, his hands shaking visibly. Jennifer notices this and smiles reassuringly at him as they both step out of the car. Connor approaches his mom's door and knocks, the house remaining quiet until it opens.

"Oh, Baruuk, how good to see you," Connor's sister, Valkyr, says to him. Connor offers a weak smile.

"Is Mom home?" he asks.

"Yeah, but are you sure you want to talk to her?" Valkyr inquires.

"Yeah, I have some stuff I'd like to tell her," Connor affirms.

"Okay, but wait, who's this pretty young lady behind you?" Valkyr asks.

"Oh, hi, I'm Jen, his girlfriend," Jennifer introduces herself.

Connor shoots Jen a look, to which she just smiles back at him. Valkyr observes their interaction and laughs, "Well, Ms. Jen, can I talk to you while my little Ruuk goes to our mom?" Valkyr asks, and Jen nods. This gives Connor the freedom to head back to his mom, who is in the backyard.

Mrs. LesProux had known since his arrival that Connor was going to show up. Call it mother's intuition. What she didn't know was the reason behind his visit.

"Hey, Mom," Connor says upon entering the backyard. His mother, a tall, statuesque woman, stands facing the morning light.

"Hello, Little cub. I'm surprised to see you," she says coldly.

"I didn't expect to be back, but here I am... You know, I've done some thinking, and I finally have an answer for you."

"Oh, really? And what is that? Do you still hate me for taking you from your birth parents? Do you still seek revenge?" Mrs. LesProux questions.

"No, I said those things in anger and resentment because I couldn't have a normal life. But that was never your fault," Connor apologizes.

Mrs. LesProux turns to her adopted son, seeing his remorse. She gets closer to him, "Wait, so you're not angry anymore?" she asks skeptically.

"No... I can't be, really. In this time away from this life, I realized I'm not built for war," Connor admits.

"Oh, then what are you built for?" Mrs. LesProux asks, intrigued.

"Diplomacy and art. But I appreciate what you did for me because, as you've said numerous times, fate had other plans," Connor answers.

Mrs. LesProux chuckles at her son's response. "That's a surprising answer."

"Why so?" Connor inquires.

"To forge peace, one must know war," Mrs. LesProux replies.

"Yes, and you've taught me war. The time I've spent with Dexter, or as you call him, the fool, has brought me peace, and I needed that," Connor adds.

"Well, then I guess I may have been harsh in my judgment of him. Especially after learning about him," Mrs. LesProux asserts.

Connor looks at his mom, confused. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"He was in love with that Wesker girl a few years back, and according to my sources, she betrayed him when he tried to purge all records of that event," Mrs. LesProux explains.

"That explains why he never talks about it," Connor realizes.

"I assume it's a sore spot. Speaking of pretty, who's that girl talking to Valkyr?" Mrs. LesProux asks, redirecting the conversation.

"Oh, that's Jennifer. She's a friend," Connor reassures.

"Really? She doesn't look at you like you're just a friend," Mrs. LesProux observes.

"How do you figure that?" Connor asks.

"I've seen the look of love, Baruuk, and believe me, she has it," Mrs. LesProux states.

"Well, then I'll keep that in mind," Connor says, falling silent. Mrs. LesProux smiles at her son's bashfulness.

She goes to hug him, "Still my shy and humble little boy, I see. I should have known that bringing you into the fold was a mistake. But that being said, I think you've grown into a fine young man."

"Thanks, Voruna," Connor says to his mom.

"You're welcome, Baruuk," Mrs. LesProux replies. "So what will you do now?" she asks.

"I'm going to the Tricell Gala tomorrow with Jennifer as her plus one," Connor answers.

"Oh, well, then we shall see each other again then," Mrs. LesProux says.

"Okay," Connor says.

After that, Connor walks back with his mom to the living room, where Valkyr and Jennifer are engaged in conversation. Mrs. LesProux scrutinizes Jennifer for a moment before asking, "What are your intentions with my son?"

Yunjin blushes at the question, as does Connor before Valkyr gives them an out.

"Come on, Mom, can't you see they're blushing? Baruuk, Jen, leave before you get more embarrassed," Valkyr says, ushering the couple out. They then drive back to the hotel, and Jen starts to become sleepier, likely due to the effects of the flight. Once they're back in her hotel room, she cuddles with Connor.

"So, you've met my mom and sister. What did you think?" Connor asks.

"I'm still surprised. You're so manly and gentlemanly, but your mom and Valkyr are very cold," Jen replies plainly.

"Well, that's because of my older brother, Atlas. He taught me a lot of the manners stuff. You would've loved him. He was tall, kind, and..." Before Connor could finish his sentence, Jen asks what happened to Atlas. "He was the brother who died because of Alexander Wesker," Connor answers.

Jen nods, “Oh... learning new things about you every day.” She falls silent after that. Connor notices she hasn’t broken the hug after 30 minutes, and then he hears her breathing become rhythmic as she falls asleep. Eventually, the calming sound of her breathing lulls Connor to sleep as well. He wakes up from his nap when Jen’s alarm goes off, blaring "No Return." As he attempts to get up, he is struck by his arm being very asleep. Realizing this, he tries to remedy it. As Jen wakes up to his movements, she laughs excitedly, watching as Connor tries to wake his sleeping arm up

"So, where to next?" Connor says, attempting to push his emotions aside. Seeing an out, Yunjin replies, "Oh, we're meeting with Winter and Hosang before they just flew in, so we're all getting dinner together." Connor nods and follows her as she changes her jacket to something lighter, as the morning cool has burned off into a humid heat more common to Florida. He looks away, trying not to see her exposed.

Jen smiles at Connor and says, "You know you don't have to look away while I change."

"Um, yes I do," Connor rebukes.

"You're so cute when you're bashful," Jen teases, laughing while watching him still trying to get his arm awake again. After a few minutes, he succeeds, and he gets up, now having his arm almost back to normal. They get into their rental truck and drive to the airport again. Winter and Hosang are surprised when Connor picks them up.

"Oh hi, Yunjin… and Connor," Hosang says in surprise to see Connor and Yunjin together.

Connor waves as they put their bags in the truck bed. Winter and Hosang both begin to whisper in Korean. They’re quiet enough to not hear every word. Connor turns to them when he hears "American," and both he and Jen scowl suspiciously.

"What?" Winter says innocently.

"What was that about? 'They are so American?'" Jen says.

Hosang laughs and says, "Well, looks like we were caught. Winter and I were just talking about how you two look so American together. (He gestures to the truck) It's so funny how you are both so American and so not American." Connor watches as Jen rolls her eyes before she goes back to face him with a smile and drives the couple to their hotel.

While on the way in, Jen asks, “Hey, how did you guys get the okay from SM to date?”

Hosang answers, “Um, so we haven't, so if you could keep it on the down-low, that would be great.” Jen’s eyes go wide, and she nods in understanding. She smiles and says, “Your secret is safe with us. Isn’t it, Connor?”

Teasingly, Connor says, “Absolutely not. I need compensation for Giselle putting me in the brother zone, and a dating scandal for her group sounds like a fat payday. So two birds, one stone.” They look at Connor for a moment, thinking he is serious, but when they see his face change, they all break into a smile.

“You had us worried for a minute,” Winter says, and Connor laughs.

While helping them, Hosang comes to Connor and asks, “I know you were joking about the Aeri thing, but are you sure you’re okay?” Connor shrugs.

“I can’t do anything about it, so why would I care? As my friend Dexter says, 'Time keeps moving forward, so will I.' I’ll just work my hardest and then move on,” Connor says to Hosang, who nods.

“Ah, the good old keep moving forward,” Hosang says, and Connor nods. After he helps the couple into their room, Connor, Jen, Winter, and Hosang all get back into the car and drive to the restaurant where they will be eating for the night. They arrive at the small Cuban spot that Jen found (spotted earlier on the way in) and all file in. Jen smiles as Connor and her walk in, and she grabs his arm, linking with hers and smiling brighter. Connor smiles back, her dark hair bouncing as she walks with him. A wave of calm washes over Connor as he sits with her. She feels... pleasant around her in a way Connor is unfamiliar with and not used to.

After the waiter takes the drink and appetizer orders, Hosang asks Connor the fated question.

“So how did you meet Aeri Uchinaga, Mr. Connor?”

Connor looks around and then to Winter, who smirks. “Tell him then, Magic Man," she teases.

“Well, long story short. I play MTG to deal with some PTSD issues I had in the past. So naturally, I played MTGA, where I met Scorpion’s love-00. I beat this person. This person sends me a Discord message, and we begin an online friendship. That friendship eventually led to me meeting this person, who turned out to be the illustrious Giselle of Aespa.” Jen smiles as Connor tells his story.

When Connor got to the part about PTSD, Winter looked at Connor in surprise. After he finishes his tale, she pries a little into that. “You mentioned PTSD… um, Connor, are you okay?” You shrug.

“Yeah, just some bad stuff happened while before I got into college. MTG helped me get out of that bad place, but it also made it worse because I became obsessed. Overall, I think I am good though now,” Winter squints as she stares at Connor. He could see the worry on her face. He smiles to allay her worry. After all, they didn’t need to be bothered with his tales of misery. After Connor finishes talking, his food arrives, and while he eats, he swears he sees Voruna. When his friends catch him spacing out looking for her, they quickly bring him back. Connor smiles at them as they all get back to eating and enjoying their company.

When Connor goes to pay, the waiter says, “Oh, your meal was already paid for by Karena LesProux. She left the message, 'For my lost cub who is found again.'” Everyone looks weirdly at the waiter, except Connor, who knows who that is and what that means. He smirks casually, then eases into the seat and says to everyone, “Wow, that is so weird but cool. A free meal.” They all look at Connor weirdly at first, but then it’s put past them. After that, Connor takes Winter and Hosang back to their hotel and says their goodbyes until tomorrow.

Winter stops for a moment before going in to talk to Connor. She gets him out of earshot of the others and says, “I heard about your situation with Giselle, don't be too mad at her. She’s just got a lot going on.” Connor smirks, then says (while looking at Yunjin), "I think I will be fine," and waves as they leave.

He goes to drop Jen off, and as he attempts to leave, she says, “Can you stay with me tonight?”

Connor sees the anxiety in her eyes, and all he can say is, “Sure,” so he follows her. The couple (I know they aren't technically a couple yet, but at this point like come on) fall asleep. They take turns using the shower and getting ready for the night. After finishing, the two cuddle in the bed. It’s awkward at first until she says, “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t bite.” Her eyes are bright and happy. Her smile is innocent and inviting.

Connor says to her, “This isn’t very hot girl of you.”

She laughs and responds, “Maybe I want to be a soft girl for the night.” Connor laughs content and Jen hugs him tight. The couple falls asleep roughly around the same time. At 4 am though, Connor wakes up. He gets up to leave, but Jen, still partially asleep, says, “Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.” Connor looks at her confused. She looks so lonely, so afraid. It was a far cry from the confident star who lives for the stage.

“What’s wrong, Jen?” Connor asks. When he doesn't hear from her, he looks at her worried but clearly sees she is still half asleep.

“I feel so isolated, and you make me feel connected. Idol life it’s great, but there’s too much pressure, too rigid. I want someone who’s fluid and goes with the flow. I live in fear every day that because of who I am and my background everything is going to collapse on me. I want someone by my side who is strong and confident yet gentle and reassuring. So please stay with me,” Jen says. Also, remember that Jen said all of this while still half asleep and probably wouldn’t remember it. Connor breathes in and out before going back to lie next to her. He hugs her tight, intent on helping her feel better. As he drifts off, his mind settles in a familiar place. Stars litter the endless void.

When Connor opens his eyes, he is greeted by Jen’s smiling face. She is elated that he stayed with her. The next thing he hears is his phone ringing. It’s Dexter.

As Connor recounted I nodded and then Dexter started speaking to me as well. following the pause at Dexter's call Dexter starts speaking.

[ohthewh0rror]

THEO NOTT: DATING HEADCANONS

A/N: Theo is practically irrelevant to the HP series and almost entirely fan made, so this is just how I characterize him. Anyway, here’s my second favorite boy (right behind Tom).

His reputation doesn’t mean as much to him as other pure-bloods and Slytherins, so you being in a different house or being a half-blood/muggleborn isn’t going to deter him from wanting to be with you.

Will not introduce you to his father if he has any say in it, ESPECIALLY if you’re anything other than a pure-blood.

Might be hesitant to introduce you to his friends because if they offend you he will not hesitate to confront them about it, but would rather not get into a fight with his friends if he can help it.

Would 110% fight another witch/wizard over you. Typically just hexes them, but if another wizard takes it too far he’s more than willingly to fight the muggle way.

Controversial: doesn’t smoke that often, only once a day after classes end, but always invites you. He likes to hear you talk about your day, doesn’t matter how “boring” you thought it was.

Lover boy through and through. You are this man’s everything.

You once mentioned that your father used to write your mom love letters and how sweet you thought it was. So for the next 2 weeks Theo gave you little love notes throughout the day everyday.

He’s on the quiet side, so you’re the one carrying the conversation usually, but does chime in to make sure you know he’s actually listening.

Doesn’t come from a loving family, so will greedily eat up any kind touch/word you give to him.

Absolutely melts if you make/buy him any type of jewelry. He has so much money and could afford the most expensive jewelry the wizarding world has to offer, but would choose the cheap beaded bracelet you made him instead any day.

The type to do self-care with you. Face mask? Cool. Manicures? He already has a color picked out. Need help with your hair? Just tell him what to do.

Like everyone he is still human and does have negative traits.

Theo knows he is witty and has a sharp tongue when provoked and he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. So he’d rather you be angry that he’s not taking the conversation about how you feel seriously than hurt your feelings.

Theo wishes he could say he trust you completely, but his upbringing has left him with trust issues. There’s always a little voice in the back of his mind saying you’re going to fuck him over or leave him one day.

Tries his best not to listen to it. But can’t help but read into your every move, so if he gets suspicious of you that’s when the petty side of him comes out.

It pretty much consists of him accusing you and bringing up things you’re insecure about / struggling with.

Only stops if you walk away or as soon as he sees your tears.

Will apologize, but his apologies are a little on the awkward side, so they feel insincere.

Controversial (again): not kinky in bed, he’s actually fairly vanilla. The kinkiest thing this man does is fuck you from the back. Is willing to experiment though if you really want him to.

Uses typical pet names on you: babe/baby/love. But if he’s looking to tease you he calls you ‘princess’.

Father/Marriage bonus:

GIRL DAD!!! GIRL DAD ALERT!!!

Almost threw up when he first held her because of adrenaline and fear of accidentally dropping her.

Is pretty hands on, helps in any way he can when he’s not working.

Spoils his daughter to hell and back. No one tells his little girl ‘no’.

Married you a few years after your daughter is born. You two had been together since your years at Hogwarts, but the both of you wanted to take it slow as you were both still young. When you got pregnant it was honestly an accident, and once the baby was born you were so wrapped up in being new parents that marriage wasn’t crossing either of your minds.

[elliesmainhoe]

literally begging for more of the modernau!ellie x femreader (you're feminine)

Ellie Williams Headcanons: Feminine!Reader (modern!au)

Part 2 of this

Ellie adores how unashamed you are of being 'girly'

You dressed in typically 'girly clothes', you had 'girly hobbies' etc. Etc.

Said hobbies being the classic knitting, arts and crafts and reading

She absolutely loves when you infodump to her about your books.

Her stupid smile as you talk about a mystical fantasy or a cheesy sapphic romance.

Pottery dates

"C'mon Ells- were gonna be late!" You cried, holding onto her hand as you began to walk faster.

"The pottery studio is literally just round the corner princess" she said as you turned the bend, a pastel pink shop front with the words 'Polly's Pottery' written in gold across the window.

"C'mon, c'mon c'mon!" You giggled rushing into the studio, the bell chiming as you walked through the door.

You made a pastel pink bowl with little red strawberries all over it with sage green stems!

She made a space themed mug. Dark blue base and planets and stars scattered all over.

You gifted them to eachother afterwards <33

You have knitted Ellie a sweater. It was pink and definitely not her style. But she wears it with pride! ✊

Loves all the decor you buy.

The comparison of her industrial, grungy decoration and your bright neons, pastel cooky nik-naks.

Ellie is a MASTER at doing your hair.

Doesn't matter what hair type you have- she is willing to learn.

Face masks with Ellie.

Ellie was sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet as you brushed on a cool paste onto their face.

"This feels so fucking weird." She grimaced at the texture.

"Oh don't be such a baby" you teased and pecked her cheek, already sporting the same mask on your face.

Is your knight in shining armour.... When it comes to catching spiders that are threatening you.

You:

Baby 9:46pm

Come home rn 9:46pm

I'm scared 9:46pm

Ellie:

What's wrong baby? 9:49pm

I'm heading home as we speak 9:49pm

You:

We have an intruder 9:50pm

Ellie:

What? 9:50pm

Fuck baby! 9:50pm

You alright- what's the fucker look like. 9:50pm

You:

It has eight legs 9:51pm

It has hair on it Ellie. I CAN SEE THE BASTARDS HAIR. 9:51pm

She comes home and kills it for you 🥰

Then lectures you for making her so scared- she was one tap away from calling 911.

"I love you princess. But never ever pull that shit again"

-----------

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