#stop bringing back my obsession with ducks

[beanghostprincess]

Usopp is not a darkwing duck Stan but he is a duck dodgers stand I will not elaborate

Jokes on you, I think he likes both because I like both and I say so.

[chronicbeans]

Romantic Yandere Lucifer x Reader Headcanons

I've been tossing this idea around in my brain for days lol.

TW: Yandere Behavior, Obsessive and Possessive Thoughts, Panic and Anxiety, Depression, Blood and Injuries, Denial, Overprotective Behavior

• When he first met you, it was when he visited the Hazbin Hotel upon Charlie's request. You were sitting at the table with the rest of the staff and guests, acting the most... Well, normal out of all of them, besides Husk. You smiles and waved his way once Charlie mentioned your name.

• It wasn't like those fairy tales, where it is love at first sight. No, he had to talk to you, of course. After everybody else introduced themselves to him, you walk over to him, shake his hand, and introduce yourself. "Hello, your majesty! My name's (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you!" That's when he falls for you. Throughout the small conversation you both have, you treat him like... well, a normal person. Or, at least, as normal as you can treat the King of Hell, himself.

• The moment he leaves and returns home, he feels extremely guilty for falling for you. Especially since it was so quick, and for such a simple reason. He barely knows you! Why can't he stop thinking about you? He silently vows to never go back to the hotel, not because he doesn't support Charlie, but because he's scared of falling for you even more. However... Calling Charlie and asking about the Hazbin Hotel doesn't sound too bad, yes?

• Soon, asking about the hotel turns to asking about the people there... which, in turn, means asking about you. How have you been doing? Have you shown any interest in the activities and workshops at the hotel? What interests do you have. Of course, Lucifer asks the same questions about everybody else, to not seem suspicious, but he's mostly just interested in you...

• He only falls even more as he hears about you. Lucifer hates himself for it. So, he begins to distance himself, again. He goes back to making his rubber ducks, trying to distract himself from his thoughts about you. However, over time, his ducks slowly began having features that remind him of you. You like drawing? Duckie with a pencil and paper. Singing? Duckie that plays music. His mind can't escape you.

• Once the exterminators show, and the fight with Adam commences, he sees you again. Not in the best condition, either. The dust settles, Niffty absolutely brutalizes Adam, and now everybody is looking for you and Alastor. As Lucifer wanders the area in a frantic search for you, he happens to notice a battered hand sticking out from underneath some rubble. Moving it out of the way, he's now in a panic as he realizes it's you. You're alive, thankfully, albeit heavily injured and hanging on by a thread. That, and passed out.

• The next few minutes are spent with him becoming way too protective over you, holding you in his arms and becoming extremely defensive. His obsessive crush has finally reached more twisted levels, and he's mortified by the thought of letting you out of his sight. Even Charlie is starting to catch on that something is not quite... right about her dad. He's holding you tightly and not letting anybody come near you, despite the fact that you clearly need help. Then again, his angelic powers could probably be used to help you heal, but the point still stands. The only person who's allowed to come close is Charlie, and even then, he's keeping a close eye.

• He's now by your side constantly while you're recovering. He almost lost you! It's a very sudden change in his behavior, considering how he bottled up all of his feelings for you for so long... Nobody even knew he cared about you in specific, much less this much. Whenever you wake up in your bed, staring at the hotel, he's the first person you see. Whenever you fall asleep, he's the last thing you see. He's there throughout the entirety of the day, acting much more like your caregiver than your friend's dad. Bringing you food, getting you water, getting you some blankets and pillows... He's even taking care of changing your bloodied bandages out for new ones.

• At first, you just assumed that he was worried and wanted to help you recover. It'd make sense. You almost died, after all. The behavior doesn't stop after you're fully recovered, though... in fact, it gets worse, somehow. He makes sure that you aren't in danger, be it real or perceived. Somebody who he doesn't know talking to you is just as big of a threat in his eyes as somebody pointing a gun at your face. He's immediately standing by your side, glaring the stranger down.

• He may not be that intimidating, but he's the King of Hell. Many people know how strong he is, even if they don't find him to actually be intimidating to look at. So, they back off, usually. Those who don't get a brief look at his demon form, before getting knocked out. No, no... He doesn't kill them. He can't kill anybody when you are around. He'll wait until later.

• He's a yandere that would never cross any physical boundaries with you. He's spent years isolating himself from people, so as sad as it is to say, he's pretty used to not getting any sort of affection. He doesn't need compliments, hugs, or cuddles ( at least, that's what he tells himself). However, if and when you start showing affection towards him, he's going to need it constantly. He needs reassurance, comfort, a shoulder to cry on, somebody to give affection to... And you are now the only person he feels he's able to do so, with.

• He's going to want to own your soul, so be on the lookout for any tricks he might pull. Well, it's more correct to say he doesn't want to own your soul, but feels like he must. He doesn't like the idea of being in a relationship with such an intense power dynamic, but he's so frightened by the idea that Heaven might take you away, that he feels that he simply must own your soul. He feels that, if he does, it's less likely you'd even be able to go to Heaven, since you're technically owned by him. And he knows he's never going up. Even you just mentioning Heaven throws him into a panic... Don't say that word, alright?

[tasteleeknow]

CALL OF THE SIREN

PAIRING: siren!minho x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. fairytale!au CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. WORD COUNT: 5.7k

SUMMARY: the effect he has on people is obvious, they’re drawn to him like he’s an oasis in a desert. then, with a small jingle of a bell that announces his arrival into your store, he attempts to ensnare you.

NOTE: my step back into writing after a little break. please let me know what you think! this is my interpretation of a siren. i know some people write them as mermaid type creatures. i wanted to write more the bird type, pretty bird singing in a cage and never touched and all of that jazz. whatever, hope you enjoy!

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

“Would you just come for an hour or so? Please?” you friend asks, tugging on your arm and giving you her best puppy dog eyes. 

“You just go,” you whine. “I’ve just had a new shipment in, I really should—” 

“It’s Sunday,” he interrupts. “Your books can wait,” she tugs you a little harder. “30 minutes.” 

“45.” 

Elsie was perhaps the only person you could call a real friend. She loved you, she’d proven that over and over throughout the years. Still, she was a very different person than you were. She sought out new faces and new company seemingly every hour of the day she had free. 

“Why are you so obsessed with dragging me around like a sidekick?” 

“Why are you so obsessed with this bookstore?” she retorts. 

“Why are you so obsessed with that man?” 

“What man?” she says, faking ignorance.

“Oh, come on.” 

“Listen, you just have to meet him once, alright? It’s not—” 

“It is that weird,” you correct before she can finish. “You and everyone else have lost your minds. I really don’t see how it’s possible for any man to—”

“You’ll see.” 

You sigh. “Let me lock up.” 

—

It’s as busy as the last time you’d been dragged to the monthly market. It always felt like the entire region descended onto the field far too small to accommodate them all. You weren’t used to crowds like this. Your days were happily spent in your village bookstore, room enough for your books and a small apartment out back. 

“There!” Elsie exclaims.

A crowd surrounds a small stage, obscuring your view of whatever has captured their attention. Your friend grips your hand and tugs you so suddenly you barely manage to stay upright, ducking your head as she barrels through the sea of bodies. The bustling sound of the market fades as she pulls you to a stop. Her eyes are fixed on the small makeshift stage, constructed from various wooden crates stacked beside each other. He’s singing: the man on the stage. He stands there in front of you, white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows with his hair falling into his eyes. He’s pretty, you’ll give him that. But when you turn to speak to your friend, the look on her face makes the words stick in your throat. She looks transfixed. She looks like he’s offering her the world on a silver platter, holding it out to her with his bare hands.

A strange feeling bubbles up in your chest, like you should wrap your arms around her as if she might at any moment lunge onto the stage. 

Then the singing stops. 

“That’s him,” she breathes dreamily, still failing to pull her eyes from the man on stage. 

“Thank you for coming,” the man on stage announces just before leaping off the stage and walking directly towards you. The crowd begins shuffling around, making their way to the small booth where they can offer their cash as a thank you for a clearly enrapturing performance. 

“You looked away,” he says when he reaches you, like that means anything at all. 

Your friend grabs your hand, as if she's afraid you might turn and run. “This is Minho,” she says. “He performs here every month. We uh—We had a drink last month and I said I’d bring my best friend next time.” 

You tug your hand from your friend’s, a little amused by her clear infatuation. Then you hold it towards him, inviting the stranger to shake it. He doesn’t. Instead he looks down at it like you’ve just held up something rotten in his face. 

“Minho doesn’t like touching people,” your friend explains, grabbing your hand again and saving you the embarrassment of letting it fall to your side. 

“Right. Well, I uh— I enjoyed what little of your performance I heard. Your voice is nice.” 

“Nice?” he says, cocking his head a little. 

Nice wasn’t enough of a compliment for him? The man refuses to shake hands and has a big ego. Your brows draw together, growing confused at your usually very intuitive friend’s infatuation. 

Elsie laughs, swinging your hands back and forth between you. “It’s heavenly, more like. Nice is a ridiculous way to describe it. Doesn’t it just… feel like it’s seeping into your chest? Like you could drown in it?” 

The man—Minho—looks at you with anticipation, curiosity: like your answer is important. 

“I—I mean, sure. I suppose.” 

“Should we all get a drink? There’s a shake stall, just near the lake,” your friend says, pulling Minho’s eyes from yours as she leads you away.

—

The remainder of the day is uneventful. You stay an hour and your friend chats away with the strange man like a lovesick puppy while you make yourself sick on a far too large vanilla milkshake. Love gives people rose tinted glasses, you conclude that night as you fall into bed. He was pretty and he had a nice voice, but clearly your friend's view of him was magnified by her heart. Infatuation does that to people. 

—

The gentle jingle of the bell above the door is one of those sounds you’d grown so accustomed to, you now barely heard it. It was background noise, like the sea birds or the crashing of the waves against the cliffs. You were so close to the cliffside here, it was the biggest selling point of the place. If you cracked your window open at night you could fall asleep to that sound. It was a stark difference to the car horns and sirens you’d grown up with. 

“Excuse me?” a voice says, startling you from your reverie. 

“Minho.” 

“You remembered.”

“I’m good with names.” 

He looks around the store, taking in the high shelves and the ladders installed to reach. “Yes, you’d have to be. Elsie told me you were… attached to this place.” 

“I love it.” 

He tilts his head a little, that look crossing his face again. You feel like you’re under a microscope. 

You clear your throat, stepping down from the small step you carry around the store to reach difficult places. “Do you need help finding anything?” 

He shoves his hands in his pockets, gazing around the store lazily. “I don’t do a lot of reading to be honest. I could use a few recommendations.” 

You brush your hands down your front. “Alright. What genres do you like?” 

He shrugs, offering you a lopsided grin. 

“You have to help me a little.” 

“Give me three of your favourites.” 

“We might not have the same taste.”

He shrugs again. 

Okay, fine. He’d be buying either way. 

He follows you around the store, a quiet shadow as you collect the first three books to come to mind. He’s quiet as he pays, placing his card down on the counter between you. Doesn’t like to be touched, you’re reminded. You slide the brown paper bag across the counter for him as you tuck his receipt inside. 

“Here you go.” 

“Do you think I’m pretty?” he says casually as he scoops it off the counter. 

You’re quiet for a moment, processing the question. “I’m sorry?” 

“I know it’s an odd question.” 

“Odd doesn’t—” 

“Humour me.” 

Elsie has a lot of explaining to do. “Sure. You’re pretty and your voice is heavenly. It seeps into my soul.” 

He grins. “You’re lying.” 

“Look, I think you’re strange. You… make me feel uneasy and—” 

“Uneasy?” 

“Not in a bad way. I don’t feel.. unsafe. I just… feel like I’m missing something. It’s uncomfortable.” 

“Not knowing something makes you uncomfortable,” he says, still grinning. It isn’t a question. 

“Why are you here? You clearly didn’t come here to buy books.” 

He juggles the brown bag into one hand so he can hold out his other towards you. “I came to shake your hand.” 

“I thought you didn’t like to do that.” 

“I don’t.” 

“So why are you—”

“Humour me.” 

You sigh, reaching out and grasping his hand in yours. He jolts as your palms connect, dropping the contents of the paper bag across the floor as he stumbles backwards. Okay, he really doesn’t like being touched. You round the counter to collect the books from the floor, cringing a little at the way one of the brand new paperbacks has landed. 

It’s only when you’ve collected all three and righted yourself you realise Minho is standing deathly still, silent. 

You raise your eyes to him. He looks shaken. You can’t help feeling sorry for him. “I don’t know what—I don’t know why you don’t like being touched, but it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay to protect yourself.” 

You place the bag at his feet and take a step away from him. “Did you—Did you feel anything?” 

You frown. 

“When we touched,” he clarifies. 

“Like what?” 

“Nothing. I uh—” he bends to collect the bag. “Thanks for the books.” 

And with that, he’s gone. The small bell announces his exit. 

—

It’s days like these, with the sun high in the sky and the gentle spring breeze, that you’re so grateful for life you can hardly contain it. You close the shop and take the small walk to the cliffside bench with a book tucked under one arm and a thermos in your chilled hands. She’s waiting for you there. She knows weather like this draws you out. 

“The princess emerges from her tower, at last!” Elsie practically shouts as you lower yourself onto the bench beside her. 

“No shouting on days like this.” 

“Is that coffee?” she asks, gesturing to your thermos.

“Tea,” you correct, passing it to her before she can ask. 

“Mm, prefer coffee,” she says just before taking a healthy sip. 

“You should’ve brought some then.” 

You’re both quiet for a while after that, opening your book to read silently as Elsie gazes out over the ocean, thermos grasped between her hands. 

“Do you know something?” she says eventually. “I think you were right about this place.” 

You place your book by your side as she passes you the half empty thermos. “Was I?” 

“I know I tease you for it. But I get it. Why you spend all your time here, I mean. It’s nice.” 

“Nice?” you laugh. “What an understatement.” 

She turns towards you. “Oh, I'm the one understating the beauty of things now?” 

“Don’t start.” 

“I know he came to the store.” 

“People do that when they want to buy books.” 

“That man doesn’t need to go to a store to buy books.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” you question.

“Come out with me tonight and I’ll show you.” 

“Where?” 

She grins. 

—

“What the hell is this?”

“Minho’s home,” your friend answers.

“Elsie, this is a fucking palace. What the hell is he doing busking at the local market?” 

She shrugs. “I asked him the same thing. Come on,” she says, attempting to lead you towards the imposing doors. 

“I wasn’t invited,” you point out.

“I have a plus one.”

The sound of chatter and laughter floods through the door as it opens. Half the town are his dinner guests by the sound of it. Elsie pulls you through the stately rooms, each with high ceilings and decadent carpets. 

When she passes you a drink, you still haven’t spotted him. You recognise faces from your store, people who have dropped by once or twice on a lazy afternoon and others who are regulars. Members of the local book club practically keep you afloat. 

“Is this a celebration?” 

“No, he just holds these regularly apparently. Has a private concert before dinner.” She tips back her head and finishes her champagne in one go. “That’s where they’re going now. Come on, let’s get good seats.”

It’s the kind of place you’d read about in fantasy novels, with high ceilings and chandeliers and carpets that could be worth more than your shop. It’s utterly ridiculous. A tiny sliver of embarrassment sneaks its way inside you at the idea of someone that had all this stepping into your store. You stamp it under your boot before it can settle. Your store is everything. You’d never been prouder of anything in your life. 

When the man of the hour emerges, the room quiets. People shift in their seats, leaning ever so slightly towards the stage where he stands. This stage is nothing like the one at the markets. It’s a permanent, elaborate construction, raising him high enough that even those peaking their heads into the packed room from the very back can get a clear view. 

Then he starts singing. 

It’s just like the last time you heard him. It’s pleasant, beautiful even. But as you take in the faces of those around you, you get that frustrating feeling again: you’re missing something. He stands centre stage, lulling the entire room into a dazed wonder. You get the urge to climb on stage and shake him. Tell me what this is! But you don’t. You wait for him to finish, wait for him to release his captives. 

Thirty minutes later Elsie takes your arm as you filter out of the room and towards the dining room, only stopping when Minho steps in front of you—blocking your exit. 

“Did you enjoy the performance?” he asks, a polite smile pulling the corners of his lips up. 

It sets your friend off on a speech that makes you want to pull her aside and give her a gentle slap across the face. Snap her out of whatever has taken root inside her brain. 

“And you?” Minho finally asks. 

“It was fine,” you answer. He didn’t need his ego fed. 

He laughs. Laughs. Like the idea that you weren’t totally enraptured by him like a sort of admiring zombie was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. Your eyes drop to his neck as you wonder how your hands would look wrapped around his throat. 

“Elsie, they’ll be starting service now. May I have a word with my guest? Just for a moment.” 

Your friend looks between you both, like she’s missing something obvious. You understand the feeling. Then she leaves with a gentle squeeze of your arm. 

“You’re rich,” you announce after a moment of silence. 

“Very observant.” 

“How?” 

“And blunt.” 

“I don’t like not knowing things.” 

“Yes, yes I know,” he smiles. Then he collapses into one of the empty chairs and looks around the room like he’s never seen it before, like it doesn’t belong to him. “People are… generous, with their donations. They like my voice.” 

You scoff, collapsing into a chair across the aisle from him. “You expect me to believe all of this is just from… busking?” 

“They really like my voice.” 

“Yes, I know. Will you tell me why?” 

“Must there be a reason?” 

He takes a deep breath when you give him a pointed look before pulling himself to his feet and crossing the aisle towards you. You get the urge to run, but you don’t. You hold your breath instead as he kneels at your feet. He holds his palm up towards you, like he’s expecting a high five. 

“I’ll tell you,” he says. “If you hold my hand while I do.” 

“You won’t fall over this time?” 

“I'm much closer to the ground if I do.”

It’s a strange request, but everything about him was strange. You hate not knowing things. So you press your palm to his, watching his face for any discomfort. His eyes fix on where your hands connect as he folds his fingers to intertwine with yours. It’s far too intimate for someone you’d only met twice before, but you need answers. 

“This will be… odd,” he says. “You’ll have to be open minded.” 

You huff out a small laugh. “Yes, well I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” 

He smiles. It’s a sad smile.

“I’m cursed,” he says eventually. It’s blunt and plain, no room for doubting the seriousness of it. “I exist to tempt others, to lure them without ever being able to touch them.” He takes a deep breath, readjusting the way your hands are intertwined so he can rest them in your lap. “It’s a safety measure, I assume. No one can resist me so to counteract any complications that might create… touch is repulsive. To both parties. I sing and I tempt them with beauty… and they want me. They want me so badly they throw their money at me in the hope it’ll make me see them.”

“Cursed.”

You look down at your intertwined hands, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours. Okay so he’s either teasing you or he’s completely insane. 

“I can prove it to you,” he says, seemingly interpreting the look on your face successfully. “If I must. It won’t be pleasant.” 

“We’re holding hands,” you point out. You weren’t in pain.

“Yes,” he says with a small smile. “We are.” 

“Well, doesn’t that disprove your… story.” 

He squeezes your hand a little. “You aren’t lured in the same way. My voice is ‘fine’, as you put it. I’m pretty enough, but I’m not—” 

“What’s your point?” 

“Curses can be broken,” he says. “Surrounded by all those books and you’ve never read a fairytale?” 

You want to shove him onto his ass and wipe the teasing smirk off his face. 

“You’re a curse-breaker. Come to set me free.” 

You yank your hand from his. 

“Is this fun for you? Do you want me to fall for this story you're spinning and make myself a fool just for you to waltz into the dining room and laugh about it with your friends?” 

He frowns. “No.” 

“Why do you sing?” you ask. “If this is a ‘curse’ that you hate so much. Why set up these events to sing for them all?” 

“I need it,” he says, brows still drawn together. “Or I'll die. I… feed from their adoration, or the curse does. It’s wrapped around me, yanking at my soul. I feed it or I die.” 

The look on his face, the tormented glaze to his eyes. It’s too convincing. He’s either as good of an actor as he is a singer or he’s…

“How would you prove it?” 

He pulls himself to his feet. “I would let someone touch me. Your friend, perhaps.” 

“And what would happen?” 

“She would… be upset. She’d be in pain.” 

“It hurts?” 

“It’s excruciating.” 

“You can’t do it to me instead?” 

He shakes his head. “You’re the exception, angel. I can’t hurt you even if I wanted to.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“That’s what you feel like to me.” 

“Well, don’t.” 

“Alright.” 

He’s quiet as you leave the room, as you leave his house. You pull your phone out to let Elise know you’ve left early. She’ll understand. You don’t like crowds. 

— 

It’s weeks before the small bell above your shop door signals his arrival. You’d almost managed to put him from your mind and then there he is, standing in your space with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“What do you want?”

He steps towards you. He looks nervous. 

“I’d like to be free, angel.” 

“I said not to call me that.” 

“Right, sorry.” 

You sigh, stepping down from the ladder to face him. “Okay, tell me what to do.” Humour him. 

One corner of his mouth lifts up. “What?” 

“How do I free you? Break the curse,” you say, gesturing at nothing in particular. 

He looks around you, at the shelves crammed to bursting with books. “No fairy tales at all?” he questions. When you say nothing he redirects his attention to you again, suddenly looking a little more solemn. “I’m afraid you’ll have to fall in love with me, angel.” 

You laugh. You can’t help it. “Oh alright, then,” you manage eventually. “Is that all?” 

He isn’t laughing with you, you realise. It sobers you. 

“I would really, really like to be free.” 

“The fairytales you keep alluding to. Don’t they usually fall in love before the big curse is revealed? A little less pressure that way don’t you think?” 

He pulls one hand from his pocket and rubs the back of his head. “It would feel… wrong. To spend time with you while keeping that from you. Wouldn’t you feel… used? If you did end up… feeling something for me and then discovering I had something more to gain from you.” 

You frown. “Yeah, I guess I would. But if you want to be free that badly, why does it matter? You don’t know me.” 

“Like I said, I can’t hurt you. It’s… maybe it’s part of it. I don’t know. I feel…” he trails off, eyes dropping to the ground. “It’s strange,” he continues after a moment. “I’ve known about you, that someone like you existed out there somewhere. Someone who could fix me. I just—How long have you been here? How long have you had this place?” 

“5 years.” 

“5—” he pauses, sucking in a deep breath. “Right.” 

“How long have you been… like this?” 

“6 years,” he says, shoving his hand back in his pocket. “You’ve been here this whole time. This curse is cruel, I shouldn’t be surprised. I just—” 

“Swear to me,” you interrupt, taking a small step towards him. “Swear to me this isn’t some elaborate joke. I don’t want to see anyone in pain. I don’t want you to have to prove this to me. I just… I need you to look me in the eyes and swear to me.” 

He takes a hesitant step towards you as he lifts his hands from his pockets. “Is there someone you… someone you don’t like very much?” he asks, a tiny smile forming on his lips. “Someone you wouldn’t mind seeing getting a very short jolt of pain?” 

“You said it’s excruciating. Is it that way for you too?” 

He nods. 

“No, there’s no one I’d want to feel pain.” 

He sighs. “I want to prove it to you. I want you to be sure of me.” 

“You’ll have to prove yourself worth trusting. If I'm going to love you, I’ll have to trust you, won’t I?” 

He reaches slowly for your hand. You let him take it, lifting it up so he can inspect it. He traces his finger over your palm, tracing the lines that cross your skin. “I’ll do my best,” he whispers. 

—

It doesn’t take you long to recognise his patterns of behaviour. He visits the shop regularly, finding some way to touch you in these small ways before he leaves. You can’t help but stay quiet as he does, afraid to interrupt him. You can see it, the way he gets comfort from your touch. You suppose if you’d been unable to touch another person at all for six years you’d be a little desperate for human touch as well. Your hands are the focus of his attention. You’re sure he must know them as well as he knows his own. He traces the lines on your palms, plays with the rings on your fingers, wraps his fingers around your wrists. 

He’s replaced the local bookclub as your biggest customer. It’s not possible for him to be reading all the books he buys. Still, he comes in once a week to ask for more recommendations. You slip in the occasional test. A vampire romance or fifty shades of grey. He never comments on it. Not until today. 

“Are you trying to hint at something?” he says from the lounge chair tucked into a corner of the store. He’d taken to spending time reading as you worked. It was the only evidence you had that he read at all. 

“Hint at what?” you ask from behind the counter. 

“Your kinks.” 

You choke on your tea, slapping your palm against your chest to prevent the liquid from entering your lungs. 

“I’m sorry?” you choke out. 

“I’ve noticed your recommendations are getting a little… adult. Do you have a thing for BDSM?” 

You duck around the corner to check for any quiet customers lingering between the shelves. “Would you be quiet?” you scold as you march towards him. One of your regulars is perusing at the back of the store. 

“Come on, angel. Don’t be shy.” 

“Are you telling me you’ve been reading them?” 

“I liked the one with the priest. Forbidden fucking is exciting, isn’t it? Doing it where you shouldn’t—” 

You slap your palm over his mouth. You can feel his grin form. “If you don’t shut up, I’m banning you from the store.” 

His eyes sparkle with mischief but he nods. You release him before wiping your palm on your jeans. 

—

It’s only a few months after that when you notice it. He’s your employee. You didn’t hire him and you don’t pay him but as you hand him the box opener so he can start taking stock of the next box you find yourself frozen with the realisation. 

He frowns, pulling himself to his feet. “What’s wrong?” 

“What are you doing?” 

He closes the box opener. “Well I was about to use this sharp thing to slice the tape from this box so I can take the books out.” 

“Shut up.” 

One corner of his mouth lifts up. 

“You’re working here,” you point out. 

“Am I?” 

You nod. Silent. 

“Would you like me to leave?” 

You frown. “No.” 

He smiles, sliding the knife open. “Then I’ll continue with the box, shall I?” 

—

You stir awake at the gentle nudge against your shoulder. “Angel,” he whispers. “It’s late.” 

“How late?” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes as you uncurl your body from the unnatural position you’d fallen asleep in on the lounge chair. 

“I closed an hour ago,” Minho says. He crouches at your feet, hair standing on all ends from where he’s dragged his fingers through it. You reach out to smooth it down. 

“Thanks,” you say through a yawn. 

“Why are you so tired?” he asks, reaching out to take your hand so he can trace patterns across it. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Any reason?” 

You trace over his face with your eyes, taking in his long lashes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his upper lip. “Would you… be spending time with me if I wasn’t…” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed. 

“Do you trust me?” he whispers. 

Your eyes flick across his, the soft light from the lamp doing just enough to make the deep brown clear. He needed something from you. You’d barely known him a year and he was the strangest person you’d ever met. It was probably foolish to trust him, dangerous at the very least. 

“I do,” you answer. “I… trust you.” 

He rocks forward, bringing his head down to your lap so he can press his lips to your hand. He peppers little kisses across your skin and you tangle your free hand into the hair at the back of his head. It falls down the back of his neck now, longer than it’s ever been before. 

“Keep me,” he mutters, just clear enough for you to make out. “Will you keep me, angel? Please. I can’t hurt you. I swear.” 

“Okay.” 

—

“What?”

You blink, finding Minho’s sparkly eyes fixed on you. He’s smiling, like you’ve missed something funny. 

“You were staring,” he says. 

You drop your gaze to the floor, feeling your cheeks warm. 

His soft footfalls as he approaches are the only sounds in the store. It was a quiet day, heavy rain preventing many customers from venturing out. He arrives at the bottom of the ladder, holding it steady as you descend. When you turn he doesn’t remove his hands, caging you in. 

“Am I pretty?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe. 

“Yeah?” he repeats with a small smile. “Have I grown on you?” 

You fiddle with the tie on his hoodie as his fingers stroke through your hair. Grown on you felt like the wrong way to describe it. Inside you. He’d tangled himself with you and now you weren’t sure you could ever let him go. You’d spent a few sleepless nights imagining spending your days in the store without him. A small part of you was afraid. Afraid that if—when—you told him you loved him, he’d leave. Curse broken, needs fulfilled. 

“A little,” you mutter, eyes fixed on his chest. 

“Only a little?” 

You look up into his eyes, then to his lips. “Would you leave if it was more than a little?” 

“Hm?” he questions as he tugs a little on one of your earlobes. 

“That’s what you’re here for isn’t it? You need me to—” you suck in a breath. “You need me to love you. Will you leave after that?” 

He frowns, hand dropping to cup the side of your neck. It’s a comforting hold, his thumb stroking gently behind your ear. “Why would I leave?” 

“I’m your curse-breaker, right? That’s my purpose? That’s what you need from me.” 

“I don’t need anything from you, angel,” he says. It’s a little unfocused, like his mind is somewhere else. His thumb keeps stroking.“It’s been two months since I needed to sing. It let me go.” 

You drop the hoodie ties and grip the fabric instead. “What?” 

He offers you a small smile. “You freed me,” he whispers. 

The curse is broken… and he’d stayed. “You’re still here.” 

“Mm, do you want me to leave?” 

“No,” you answer quickly before pulling him towards you, tasting him for the first time. He stumbles a little, humming into your mouth as he steadies himself. It’s a frenzied stumble around the store. You are hardly aware you’re moving at all before you find yourself pushed up against a wall of books. 

“The store is open,” he mumbles into your neck. 

“Don’t care,” you mutter before you grip his hair and pull his mouth back to yours. 

He laughs, taking a large step backwards and detaching you with ease. “Yes, you do. I’ll be right back.” 

You attempt to catch your breath as he locks up, dropping your head back against the books and closing your eyes. You loved him. You loved him and he knew and he didn’t leave you. 

His finger traces your lips when he returns. “You’re smiling,” he whispers. 

Your eyes flutter open. “You didn’t leave me.” 

He frowns. “I was just locking up.” 

You huff out a short laugh. “No, I mean… two months ago.” 

“Ah,” he says before pressing his lips together and adopting an exaggerated thoughtful expression. “Why didn’t I leave?”

You press your finger to his cheek. “Do you think I’m pretty?” you ask. 

His eyes flick to yours, the teasing expression dropping off his face. “Angel,” he whispers. “You’re wrapped around my soul.” 

You’re both quiet after that, little noises of pleasure the only sounds between you as he pushes you against the shelves. You snake your hands under his hoodie, pressing your hands to his skin. He’s so warm. He’d taken your hands shortly after you’d entered the store, cold and wet from the downpower. You’d frozen still as he lifted them to his mouth and breathed over them, warming them gently. 

“Love touching you,” he mumbles against your lips. “So soft. You were worth it.” His lips move to the corner of your mouth. “I couldn’t touch anyone… for years and you were there at the end… a soft angel come to save me, hm? Let me feel you…” 

He continues muttering the same way as he presses kisses across your skin. You snake your hands up his back, lifting his hoodie as you go. He barely detaches his lips from you for a second as he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside. 

The rain seems to get heavier as you’re consumed by him, offering you a curtain of privacy from the world. It feels completely safe, here with him, in your favourite place on earth. It's yours, this place, him. You bite into his neck, just enough to leave tiny marks in his skin. He grunts, threading his fingers into the hair at the back of your head. “The angel bites,” he laughs as he slips his other hand up your thighs and under your dress. 

“Stay here with me,” you gasp into his mouth as his fingers brush your clothed centre. 

“I’m staying,” he breathes. 

“You can’t leave.” 

He smirks as his fingers brush back and forth, barely touching. “Listen to me. I’m not leaving you, yeah? I’ll never walk out the door again if that’s what you want.” 

“You have a—a palace,” you gasp as he hooks his fingers into your underwear. 

His lips ghost over yours as his fingers explore you, slipping through your folds leisurely. “Would you rather live there?” he asks.

“Wouldn’t you?” 

He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing you. “Wherever you are,” he whispers as he tugs your underwear down your legs. 

“Here,” you breathe. 

“Alright, we’ll live here.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, like you can hold the sentiment inside him and physically prevent him from changing his mind. We, he said. We’ll live here. Suddenly his hands are under your thighs and he’s practically scooping you up, slotting himself closer towards you and lifting you up against the shelves. His bare torso is warm against your thighs as you wrap yourself around him securely. 

“That sounds nice,” you mumble into the crook of his neck. 

“Just nice?” he says back, the mischief clear in his tone. 

“It sounds so wonderful, I could die from joy.” 

He chuckles against your temple. “Don’t do that. Don’t leave me.” 

“One condition.” 

“Hm?” 

“Would you fuck me now?” 

He makes that face again, like he’s deep in thought. His mouth forms a straight line. You kiss it off him, forcing him to part his lips. “Alright, angel,” he mumbles. “I’ll fuck you now.” 

His movements are lazy and patient as he pulls himself free from his trousers. You practically latch yourself onto his neck, sucking at his skin desperately. Then he’s playing with you, wetting the tip of his cock along your folds like he has all the time in the world. You’re on the brink of tears when he finally shoves you against the shelves and lets you sink down onto him. 

“‘m inside you,” he mumbles into your shoulder. 

You hum, dropping your head back. “Yeah,” you breathe. “You are.” 

please don’t forget to leave feedback, it took me lots of time and effort and hearing your thoughts is what makes me want to write more. thank you.

[updownlately]

say my name (and everything just stops)

| alessia russo x reader

~~~

“What do you think?”

Doing a little spin, Alessia modelled her dress for you.

Eyes widening at the sight before you, you let your gaze trace over the striker, loving the way the black cloth fit. 

You knew your girlfriend could make anything look gorgeous, but this? This took the win by a landslide- easily being one of your most favourite outfits of hers. 

You were about to tell Alessia as much, mouth opening to speak right as she spoke.

“I bought it because I thought it would look great on your bedroom floor…”

Taking a second to comprehend what Alessia had just said, you blushed at the words. 

Head turning to the side in a vain effort to not get flustered, your tongue pushed into your cheek as an impressed look crossed your face.

You forgot what you were about to say moments earlier, just barely collecting yourself to look back over at Alessia, a small shrug and raised eyebrows your only response.

An amused smile shone on the blonde’s face, the Gunner deciding to tease you a bit more, obsessed with the rosy hue that always coated your cheeks at even the slightest flirtations

“I mean, if you’re having doubts, we can always test it out and see how you like it…”

At this point you didn’t know what to say, too flabbergasted with your girlfriend’s forwardness.

Biting her own lip to hide a smile, Alessia eyed you carefully, heart melting as your blush reddened, head ducking, eyes downcast as you dug your toe into the floor.

Deciding to take it a step further, she stepped forward to where you stood, taking your slightly shaky hands in her own, placing them on her shoulders as hers promptly went to your waist. 

If your brain had been glitching before, it was definitely short-circuiting now. 

Mouth opening and closing a few times, you willed words to come out but there was nothing but pure silence, silent pining and anticipation thrumming in your veins. 

It was at your fourth impression of a fish out of water that Alessia decided to put you out of your misery- or into more misery if you were asked.

Whispering your name into the space between you, the footballer tugged you closer to her, closing the gap between your bodies. 

All you could feel now was Alessia. Her hair slightly tickling your ear. Her strawberry perfume overwhelming you in the best way possible. Her slight exhales against your own. All you knew was Alessia, Alessia, Alessia- the rest of the world fading away in that moment.  

Only a fraction of a hair of space between you both, your bodies pressed together in the dim room, you could feel your heartbeat start to race even faster.

“Less…” Your exhale was quiet, only heard because the blonde was as near as she was.

You got a hum in response, the girl in question only bringing your faces closer. 

“Did you know I absolutely love the way my name falls from your lips? I can even think of a few circumstances where I’d absolutely die for it…preferably when a bed’s involved…”

By now your brain was mush- complete and utter mush.

Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to keep it together, nervous for where this could go. 

Swallowing hard, you let your forehead fall against the hers. 

“God…”

“Not my name but I guess I don’t mind being called that for a night…”

You let out a quiet huff, mind frenzied in the most pleasant way. 

“Please…” You couldn’t help the plea that fell from your lips, your body completely surrendering without even so much as thinking of anything past this point.

“Please what?”

Taking a deep breath in, you considered backing out now, stepping away, pretending none of this happened, saving your dignity before you nearly started begging.

Your decision, however, was made for you, the grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly- the gentle pressure heady. 

“Please just kiss me…” Your lips were nearly brushing hers as you spoke.

“Yeah? Or what?”

You groaned in response, before not able to handle the flirting and now the teasing.

“Lessi…please…”

You were at the point beyond recovery, too far gone in the intoxicating presence of Alessia around you, the feel of her, her touch, her closeness, to care now.

You tried again…the first ask futile.

“Alessia…”

“Or what?”

You could feel the smile on your blonde’s face, the grin growing with each second.

Mind barely snapping out of it, you managed to form a somewhat coherent sentence, more words than what you had strung out in the past few minutes. 

“Fuck around and find out then…” The teasing threat was clear as your hold on her strengthened. 

“Let’s just fuck around, yeah?”

Feeling the striker close the gap, you let yourself be consumed by the following kiss, being gently pulled towards your shared bed, trusting Alessia as she guided you. 

Glad that your best friend was that and everything more, you followed her blindly, letting the electricity in the room charge you, patience and anticipation of the night to come exciting you. 

Yeah, this was definitely your most favourite dress of hers. 

[lady-ashfade]

Yan! Team Black request:

What if Luce survived storms end and trader found him washed up on the shore? She nurses him back to health and takes him back to Dragonstone. I can see team black becoming absolutely obsessed with reader for bringing their baby boy back to them

Yandere team black x reader. (Mostly platonic but there are sighs of it not being that way.)

Notes: I changed it up from the reader being a trader.

This might be bad but I honestly had a hard time continuing this. But I hope I did a decent job <3

Taglist: @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @second-try-stevie @prettyinblack231

Warnings: Yandere tendency, a bit of targaryen costumes…If you know what I mean, manipulation, obsession, over a just a dream to be in. poor editing.

It all started when you went to fishing in the early morning at the lake just a few minutes from your house. To your surprise when you got there you saw a body laying in the water and on the shore. You realized it was a young boy who clearly needed some aid.

His lower body was in the lake water and his face cover in sand. You cursed yourself as you dragged the boy out of the water and across the ground over to dry land. “Boy!” You gently slapped his face to see if he would awaken, he was alive and breathing but it was weak. You noticed there was blood and a cut on his head so you tore your skirt and wrapped it around his head.

“If you die on me I swear to the gods.” You muttered and took off the cloak and extra clothing he didn’t need. But his pants and shirt where still on, you didn’t want the extra weight on him or it keeping him cold. You went over to your travel bag and pulled out your blanket and set it on him and started to collect fire wood to start a fire to keep you both warm.

After you saw no more wounds on the boy you left him on the ground and went back to do what you came for- To fish. But of course you weren’t going to leave the boy but you needed the free food. So when the sun passed mid sky you took your leave. Even though he was a young boy and small, he was heavy to get onto your house. 

You had a small house out of town and in the woods which you liked because no one was there. Your kingdom was peaceful for the most part and you knew how to take care of yourself. When you got home you placed him on your bed and let him get rest but you eagerly awaited for him to wake.

“Give me a fucking minute-” you screamed as you ducked down as a shoe was thrown at you. “Tell me where I am.” The boy you saved awake after a week and he was out of control. “You could have just asked that but no you’re acting like a savage. Your in Nearva, and I saved your life so stop throwing my shit.” You glanced at him as he stops but still kept his guard up.

“Nearva? I’ve never heard of that, where is it in the seven kingdoms?” And it clicked to you where we was from. He was from Westeros, all across the world where you only heard stories about. “You’re from westeros?” You asked as you slowly stood up not to frighten him. “Yes. My name is prince, lucaerys velaryon.”

“Son of a bitch.”

You explained to him that he was all the way across the world from his home and that you weren’t a threat. He noticed your kindness to a stranger you’ve never met and nursed him back to health. He was great full for your kind heart and soon realized that once day he will repay you for what you did for him. He’ll keep you safe when the time comes…

The time you and Luke spent was pleasant to say the least. He was also sweet and kind. He’s help you in anyway he could when he was still resting and when he got better he helped you around the house and with more. You taught him how to fish, sow, cook but he ended up burning it, but at the end of the day it was nice to have company. You thought of him as a friend.

He thought of you as a sister…a older sister he never had.

Now you both stood on a ship you both worked the money to get, the only ship you knew of that could take you to your destination. It was only a one time trip and you only wanted to pay for him and let him go but he convinced you otherwise.

“I can’t go alone, y/n. What if my uncle sees me and I’ll die alone.”

Or when he would cry and hug you saying he couldn’t live knowing you were so far away. So you agreed to go with him, he promised he would take you back one day….but promises are easily broken.

When you arrive to dragonstone it was scary to say the least.

As soon as your ship got close to land you could see guards waiting for you to step off. The men that ran your ship told you that you both had to go alone and sent u off in the emergency boat.

“State your name.” A man in heavy armor asked as his sword was drown. “I come to escort he prince back home.” As soon a Luke took of his hood their eyes widened. Luke demand to be brought into the castle and that you would come unharmed.

Luke held you hand the entire time. He was nervous to see his family again but he also wanted it to be known that you were on his side.

Once you got into the main room your life was changed forever.

The family stood at a glowing war table and you could see the queen and her husband, and others. Once they noticed Luke rhaenrya almost fainted at the sight but ran to hug her child. She cried and felt him to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

He kissed his cheek and brought him back into a hug while Daemon came to say his hellos to the boy. You watched in joy as the family reunite and it made you glad you came.

Luke pulled away from them and glanced over to you and they followed. He told them that you saved him and brought him back, rhaenrya was still in tears when she walked over to you and pulled you into a embrace.

“Thank you for being my boy back.” She kisses your forehead and gave you a last final squeeze then stepped away. She reassured you that you’ll go back to your home land but not after that thank you. And they insisted on you staying and the way their eyes looked at you- You couldn’t say no.

Rhaenrya wondered how someone as fragile as you could have took care of her boy all alone and do all the things you did. Luke told her how you lived alone, hunter for yourself and did everything. She was amazing but she found herself thinking of how dangerous it was for you.

Daemon also wondered the same thing. You seem so…different. He’d watch you more and more and notice the cuts on you hands, the way you couldn’t stay still and had to be doing things. And you’re sweet attitude. How could you survive on your own? 

They see the way luke acts with you. Like you’re the sunshine in the room and follows you around. How could they take that away from him? And themselves because you’re the new light in their lives.

Everyone started to hang out with you and get closer. That’s when their obsession really start. They didn’t know why but they just felt like you belong with them and in their family.

“My dear, you’re going to stay with us.” Rhaenrya sat you down on your daily walks. She told you it’s because she grew fond of you and so did the rest. After what you did you couldn’t go back now.

“Don’t worry. We have decided to name you our daughter. Our own light sent from the gods.” 

You had to stay with one of them or have the guards follow you around all day. Eating meals, having a meeting with each of them through out the day.

Rhaenrya took the role as your mother seriously. She came to help you each morning on your hair. Protecting you like a spider to its young. She would stop at nothing to protect you. As time goes by she can’t even tell the difference of her not birthing you, she believes you are her daughter.

Daemon is a protective and proud dad. He’d watch over you like a hawk and be ready to kill anyone that comes near you that isn’t their family. He knows you miss your old life so he takes you out sometime as a bonding experience. Like you teaching him how to fish or even sword fighting but you can never had a real one.

Jace- Jace is obsessed with you, romantic or not. He thinks your the best woman to ever be brought into this world. He stares at any male who glanced at you, making you laugh or bring you flowers each morning. He comes on all the trips that you and daemon have. He’ll take you to meet his dragon. You’re his sister, and if you wanted…even lover. 

Luke- oh my dear Luke. Like I said he follows you around because he wants to keep you safe like you did to him. He’s always near you. From holding your hand to cling onto you in any way he can. He’s the most possessive out of them all. Anyone who interrupts his session he’ll give you sad eyes and manipulate you to sending them away. Even his mother. You also bake with him still and let the family join in to.

The baby’s love you. They don’t know what’s going on but they’re just happy to see you and be near you.

Rhaena treats you just like her sister- They both believe that your somehow their long lost triplet- So she loves to be around you. Matching dresses and her teaching you things. You two studying together. Her also having her arm around yours. Honey she’s chill but don’t temped her or she will do anything for you.

Baela is a hotheaded like her father, so she demanded for you to come visit her on driftmark after she met you once. She takes you on her dragon and loves how you cling onto her and rely on her. She will throw her hands at anyone who looks at you wrong.

They also aren’t above putting you in a situation of danger just for you to be saved by them if you don’t trust them. Maybe hire someone to “Kill you” and have daemon be waiting there to safe you. Rhaenrya taking you in her arms and cry, everyone but rhaenrya and daemon thinks it’s real. They set it up but for good reason. 

The family loves you deeply because just as the gods intended. Your theirs.

Your loving family- Your only family.



[seventeenytiny]

✿ Spring Fever✿

Smut: Minors DNI

You and Hyunjin go for a walk through a local nature trail and things get pretty heated.  Contains: public sex, fingering, female reader, slight name calling, squirting, unprotected sex (assume reader is on birth control)

Word Count: 1500

Author’s note: I am absolutely obsessed with the idea of Hyunjin and public sex. I apologize for this being a bit rough, I have no excuse, english is my first langue, I just suck at writing right now :))).  

You take a deep breath, welcoming the fresh air into your lungs. The sunlight that you have missed all winter warms your skin as you listen to the birds chirping. You could hardly believe how much happiness blue skies could bring you after months of endless gray. You hold Hyunjin’s hand tightly as the two of you walk down the path of your favorite nature trail, placing kisses on each other's cheeks, simply enjoying the moment. The trail was quiet, it was a bit of a hidden gem in your town, not everyone knew about it. Long, overgrown grass surrounded the edges of the trail, offering a bit of privacy.

You notice a small trail that leads off the main one, a tiny clearing in the long grass, most likely made by a deer.

“Hyunjin, look, there's a little trail there. Can we go see where it leads to?”

He smiles and nods. “I think there might be a little pond that way, maybe we can find some frogs.”

Hyunjin takes the lead, pulling you behind him, protecting you from any cobwebs on the long grass. You admired his strong figure leading you, how could someone be so perfect? Hyunjin was hard to resist, you couldn't help yourself as reached forward, grabbing his ass. He takes a deep breath and stops. You can sense a change in demeanor, he stares straight ahead, his voice low, “You’re going to regret that.”

You don’t even have time to respond before he’s pulling you along again. His words send a tingling sensation straight to your core.

The two of you finally make it through the grass, the trail opens up to a small clearing and a large pond. You walk up to the edge of the pond, taking in the breathtaking view as Hyunjin holds you from behind.

“Look at the ducks over there. Aren’t they adorable?” you pointed out.

“Yeah... they’re cute,” he mumbles. While Hyunjin would generally be very interested in such a sight, his mind was elsewhere. He let you know what he was truly thinking about by slowly grinding into your ass. You tensed up for a second after feeling how hard he was before slowly relaxing into it. Hyunjin’s hand began to travel the front of your body, one hand grabbing your breast, the other pushing your hips closer to him. You relaxed completely against his body, letting him do whatever he wants. You tilt your head to the side to allow him to suck on your neck, knowing there would be little red marks for you to have to deal with later.

“Such a naughty girl... letting me touch you like this out here,” he whispers, his voice deep and sultry.

Too shy to answer, you pull away from his grasp, desperately grabbing his face to press your lips onto his. Your lips move against one another, his tongue slips into your mouth as he grabs your ass. You moan into his mouth, enjoying every second of his touch. You find yourself attempting to grind on his upper thigh, desperate to feel something down there.

Suddenly he freezes up, his hand goes up to your mouth to keep you silent. He leans close to your ear, “Be quiet, Princess.”

The two of you stay in that position for what felt like an hour, although it wasn't any longer than a minute. You wait until you hear the voices of the people walking by pass. The two of you had gotten so carried away, simply forgetting you were in public.

Hyunjin wastes little time getting back to work, his hand slips under your dress, feeling your wet panties. “Does my little Princess get turned on by the thought of other people catching her being a slut?” he coos into your ear.

His words make you melt, you’re so turned on but too shy to respond.

“I need to hear your words, Princess. Does the idea of me fucking you out here where anyone can see turn you on?” His finger slides past your panties, entering your soaking wet pussy. A quiet ‘yes’ slips past your lips, but that's not enough for him.

He slides another finger into you, thrusting them in and out, “What was that baby girl? I can’t give you anything more unless I know being a slut like this turns you on.”

“Fuck, Hyunjin, yes I love it, please just fuck me, I’m begging you.”

“That’s what I needed to hear baby girl, take your panties off for me, please.”

You quickly slip off your panties as he undoes his pants, he pulls them down just enough to release his cock. You watched with eagerness as his hard cock springs up from the confines of his pants. He gives himself a few pumps before he pushes you up against a nearby tree. He looks around to make sure no one is nearby before he lifts your skirt up, teasing your entrance with his cock.

“I need you to be quiet, okay Princess?”

You nod in reply, both of your hands are up against the tree to help keep you steady. He places one hand over your mouth to help stifle any possible moans, his other hand around his cock as he guides it to your entrance. He pushes into you, you're thankful for the hand that covers your mouth as you let out the most sinful sound.

“Shhhh I know it's hard baby girl, you gotta be quiet.”

After giving you a second to adjust to him, he begins to move. His cock stretches you out in the best way possible. You manage to keep quiet, the only thing you can hear is the wet squelching sound as he thrusts in and out of your pussy.

Hyunjin whispers into your ear, “Listen to how wet you are, you really are a slut, letting me fuck you wherever I want.”

“Hyunjin... you're going to make me cum if you keep talking like that.”

Your voice is already unsteady, losing yourself in pleasure. Hyunjin reaches around you, drawing little circles on your clit as he continues to thrust in and out.

“Are you going to cum already? I had no idea how kinky my little Princess was...”

He continues on for a bit before picking up the pace, his hips snapping into yours at an all-new speed.

“I’m gonna cum...”

“Do it, I got you, Princess.” He places a kiss behind your ear, his warm breath tickling you, your mind starts to go blank.

You feel the heat in your core build up as your legs start to shake, you decide to not hold back anymore, letting your orgasm wash over you. You can feel your juices running down your leg, more and more coming out with each thrust. You can’t believe you're actually squirting, you’ve never been able to do it before. Your cum continues to pour out of you as you get lost in pleasure.

Hyunjin feels your wetness coat his cock, soaking his jeans. He’s dreamed of the moment of being able to make you squirt, and now it's finally happening. Your orgasm triggers his own, he grunts into your ear as he fills you with his cum. He gives you a couple more thrusts as he rides out the pleasure before slowly pulling out.

He holds you tightly against his body as you regain your balance after your intense orgasm. He pulls away only to watch the mixture of his and your cum drip out of you into the earth beneath you.

You turn to him, only to see the front of his jeans wet from your orgasm. You start apologizing, but he cuts you off by kissing your lips deeply.

“Don’t even try to apologize Y/N, that was the hottest shit I've ever seen,”

You blush before kissing him again, “I love you Hyunjin.”

“I love you too Princess, let's get cleaned up.”

The two of you help the other clean up, you grab the panties you discarded earlier to try to soak up the excess dampness on his pants before using them to wipe yourself dry. You tuck the dirty panties into your purse to deal with later, deciding to finish the walk home with nothing on underneath. Hyunjin takes his zip-up hoodie off and ties it around his waist, using it to cover most of the wet stain on his pants.

The two of you look at the lake one last time before finishing your walk home. He wraps his arm around you and places a kiss on your temple.

“So do you wanna come back here for a walk tomorrow? Maybe we can actually look for frogs.”

You giggle, “I have a feeling we will never be able to come back to this spot just to look for frogs.”

Hyunjin grabs your hand and begins to lead you back to the main path of the trail.

“Oh yeah, you were right Y/N, those ducks were actually pretty cute earlier.”

[hitomisuzuya]

Yandere! Kunikuzushi NSFW Headcanons. College AU. Obsessive behavior. What the heck do I even call this one? Um, Kuni being dirty with a video camera. Masturbation.

a/n: This was a topic of conversation between me and @xxventiswindblumexx during an insomnia fit we both at like 3am-ish? I decided to run with it a little bit. Enjoy❤️

Kunikuzushi could almost always be seen with a video camera in his hands.

Life was just too tangible a concept for him, so he made it his mission to record simple things happening around him, like the leaves blowing across campus in the wind or the clouds in the sky. Little moments of beauty needed to be forever recorded because so many people miss them.

It was just an innocent hobby at first.

Until it became an obsessive fixation.

Or more like you became his fixation.

Kunikuzushi was filming a robin flying up into a tree when he heard your voice. It sounded like a melodic pitch in his ears. Pleasant and soothing.

He naturally has to find to find the source of the sound.

Which was when you can into view on the recording screen of his video camera.

You were walking with your friend across campus, commenting on the weather.

"It's gonna rain again soon."

Kunikuzushi had never heard such a common praise sound so beautiful. It made his cheeks flush, and his heart fluttered and tightened in his chest.

He listened, watching you with rapt attention for you to say anything else. His heart fell when you didn't.

At least it did until you saw him, and smiled a little, waving in greeting as you passed him.

You'd noticed him. That made him shiver.

So he in turn noticed you.

Over and over again.

Kunikuzushi's eyes would constantly be combing the campus for you, disguising his behavior as just something he was always doing, recording little things like the nerd he was.

He memorized every route you took around campus, following you back to your dorm, ducking and sneaking around trees and buildings, never staying too far away from you, but always so he was out of your sight.

Kunikuzushi had the power of the zoom feature on his camera. He could always bring you into a view as much as he wanted from a distance.

He was content with just recording you going about your daily life until the day it turned into something else.

He was sitting in a secluded section of the library, reviewing the footage he had just recorded of you.

You'd stopped in mid step to look up at the rain clouds in the sky. A gentle gust of wind ruffled your hair, making your scent waft into his nose. It was a scent his nose had already committed to memory. The scent of fresh apples.

However, he'd been so fixated on the way your hair looked sliding through your fingers as you tucked it behind your hair that he'd missed something else entirely.

The wind has caught under your skirt a little, revealing a little more of your thigh that one would normally see.

Drool practically pooled at the corner of his mouth instantly.

Kunikuzushi's heart fluttered in his chest differently then, when he saw that two seconds of forbidden flesh.

Had anyone else seen it?

Or was it a moment gifted just for him?

His fingers were starting to itch when suddenly

"Hey there, Kuni, whatcha doing?"

Your voice shattered the hazy cloud of static lust was clouding his brain.

"I...I was just fixing my camera. It was out of focus." He stammered. Had you seen what he was looking at?

"Oh? Well, try and bring me into focus, then. I mean, you need a subject after all so.."

More like a muse.

"Well, is it working?" He could hear you sounded nervous. He did a long pan up on your body at just the right moment. You fidgeted nervous, putting your arms behind your back and looking away, biting your lower lip as your shifted your weight, making your skirt sway slightly against your thighs.

Those thighs his fingers itched to touch, squeeze and caress.

Did you even have any idea the profound effect you were having on his with such an innocent movement?

Movement made just for him.

His fixation morphed into obsession in that moment.

To you, it was just an innocent action done out of being nervous about being recorded. He knew you probably felt self conscious.

But for him, it was a sinful treat. One for him to look back at one later that night, stroking his cock and whining as cum stuck to his fingers, wiping drool of his mouth.

Kunikuzushi remembered how good it felt to finally feel his fingers dug into your thighs, prying them apart as he pushed you up against the wall, hidden from sight behind rows of book shelves.

"I'm sorry," He panted, soft and desperate in your ear, barely being able to set up his video camera on the shelf when he could record everything at the perfect angle. "I have to feel your thighs. My fingers itch so badly.." he babbled, shaking as he waited for you to slap him away.

You took his hand and put it up your skirt against your thigh, making him moan as his fingers brushed and groped around. Maybe you had been thinking about the incredibly pretty boy always recording you.

Kunikuzushi felt his fingers brush against something damp. He moaned when he realized that you were wet.

His fingers instantly reached to rub against your panties, making him pant as he felt himself getting hard.

The way your mouth looked when you let out your own sighs of pleasure gave him another idea. He'd always thought about how pretty your mouth would look taking his cock into it.

He gave your clit some extra rubs for incentive.

"Please, I'm so hard..can you help me?"

You blink and smiled, licking your lips in a way that made him nearly lose it.

"Is this angle okay, Kuni?" You asked, dropping down onto your knees and looking up at him, your hand palming his erection as he undid his belt.

Kunikuzushi threw his back when he felt your tongue connect with his cock.

Even the wet slurping noises your mouth made as you sucked, bobbing your head turned him on. He couldn't stand the pace you'd set. It was too agonizingly slow.

Kunikuzushi grabbed a handful of your hair, pushing his cock all the way into your mouth, groaning when he felt your gag around his cock. Then he asked for that extra sinful view, all for him to see and record.

Seeing and recording was even better to him now than just simple observation.

"Touch yourself, and let me lick your fingers after I cum, pretty please. Just a little taste," He babbled, fucking himself into your throat.

Drool dribbled out to pool between your breasts as he watched you adjust yourself as push your panties aside, burying them inside your cunt, bucking into them as you moaned, making him cum in your mouth.

Kunikuzushi couldn't pull you to your feet fast enough to grab your wrist and suck your fingers into his mouth.

You became his new favorite taste. His perfect sinful taste.

The only thing he wanted to taste.

[lyomeii]

here to protect you!

➤warnings: yandere themes, platonic relationships, mention of blood, reader is quite overprotective of charlize.

➤ request by @rouecentric lyo!! how's one of my favorite writers doing?? anyways, i saw that your requests were open again and wanted to request you something <3 can i have platonic headcannons of charlize ronan with an older sister? with her being overprotective of her and being a high-ranked magician? like something similiar to lucas from wmmap, have a nice day/afternoon/evening!!

➤a/n: a request from you!!!! you don’t how much I love your work and being considered one of your favorites? it’s a honour \(//∇//)\ this took a while to write, but i enjoy it a lot. have a nice day to u too!

➤ even being the older child of the household is though, that’s for sure. but being the only person in the empire to have such powerful abilities like yours make it even worse.

➤ when you first were born, both mother and father were so happy to have a healthy baby like you and you began showing your magical abilities to them, well that made them love you even more. knowing they were gift to have someone like you in their family.

➤ then you become the older sister of two little boys who you find quite entertaining to have around. the two following you like little ducks as you play around with your powers. Mother and father watching it from afar as you make the two boys smile bigger than ever, how much you loved this moments! and when you heard you were finally getting a sister, oh! you jump around the house and promised to be the best sister to her.

➤ you made your promise become true, even with the fact that mother died shortly after giving birth to Charlize, you stood there to take care of her unlike father and your brothers, they blame the little girl for be the reason why the household stopped being a lovely family.

➤ father and brothers ignore Charlize always, but not you. being the oldest and her only sister, you stood at her side and was the sole responsible for raising her into become a become a beautiful lady and a excellent swordwoman. You were so proud of her! Of course father wasn’t happy that you stay at Charlize side, but him nor brothers could do nothing, knowing how powerful you were.

➤ when charlize suddenly disappear from house, you went look after her. using your powers in ways you never used before, searching alternative ways to make spells and looking into reference of ancient books to find a clue of your sister’s disappearance, but never worked it.

➤ the rest of your life, you spend in solitude, trying to search of finding out of where charlize is, you even tried asking for that blond’s help and still failed.

➤ you slowly become obsessed to find your little sister, you began searching another way to bring back, even with the help of a spell that made you. A old spell that can rewind time and bring charlize back, unfortunately you won’t remember it anything about it and yet that’s no important if you bring her back to your life.

➤ the day you managed to collect all ingredients for the spell, you become excited and didn’t bother nor cared about the blood you spill around your clothes. you recite the words and when a bright took over your vision, you know you’ve done correctly it.

➤ as Charlize return back to time, she first ran to your bedroom, thinking it was a dream, but seeing you passing out on your desk with blood coming from your nose and mouth, the little girl yelled enough to call everyone from the household.

➤ even back at this young body, charlize made a research to find why you’ve pass out. could this have being related to her coming back in time? as she finds ancient books, that what she suspected.

➤ if you truly messed up with time to help her, then she has to help you. as charlize began her plan to leave home, she decided to bring with you too, even you stayed sleeping, she managed to convince maid to bring you with her to the palace.

➤ as she keep reaching dylan, charlize still looking for a way to wake you up. she even introduced your sleep form to the prince. she still find quite cute when seeing dylan reading books to your sleeping form.

➤ maybe not now, but she will find a way to wake you up. Charlize knows that you sacrifice so much for her and she is ready to give up of the world to bring you to her side.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

[half-bakedboy]

hi! i have new obsession with bucktommy. since youre taking prompts, what about “You are my family”? maybe after they have been dating for a while? idk you decide

Tommy had planned to spend the better part of his day waiting in line to donate blood. He intended to go alone, but it’s not often that their off-days coincide so fully, so Evan gave him no choice but the company—which Tommy would never say no to anyway. Tommy’s known for a while now that he would spend every second outside of work with Evan if he could. 

“Tommy?” He brings his attention away from how in love he is with his boyfriend, and back to the check-in worker asking him important questions. 

“Hmm?” 

“Closest family member?” she asks. 

“Evan Buckley,” Tommy answers easily. 

He feels Evan freeze beside him, a choked exhale that he covers with a cough. Evan shakes off Tommy’s attempt to ask him what’s wrong, so Tommy figures it’s just the nerves of giving blood for the first time in a while. 

He continues answering the check-in worker's questions, more in tune with the uncharacteristic rigidity of his boyfriend. Evan’s usually bouncing a knee or playing with his fingers, but he’s been staring at his phone screen even though Tommy’s almost positive he hasn’t scrolled in at least a few questions. 

“Alright, you both can get seated down that way and one of the nurses will be there shortly!” 

Tommy starts to move toward the waiting area, but after only a few feet of walking, Evan tugs Tommy’s hand to stop him from moving any further. When Tommy turns around, Evan is staring at him, eyes wide and inquisitive. 

“Are you okay?” Tommy asks. “You can’t be that nervous about giving blood, can you? You’ve done this before!” Tommy reassures him, but Evan looks like he’s trying to calculate how much longer it’ll be until he can run. Tommy holds his shoulders tightly and ducks his head to make sure Evan can see into his eyes. “Talk to me, Evan.”

“Closest family member?” Evan says abruptly. Tommy tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Is Evan asking him again? Did he not hear the answer before? 

When he doesn’t expand, Tommy repeats his answer, “Evan Buckley?” 

“Me?” Evan whispers. Tommy hears the unspoken vulnerability in the words, like for some reason, Evan doesn’t think he deserves such a title. “Why?” he asks, hesitation in the question.

“Because you’re my family,” Tommy answers easily. Evan’s eyebrows pull together and he gazes at Tommy underneath long eyelashes. “Sweetheart,” Tommy sighs, “did you doubt that?” 

“I didn’t… I didn’t even realize I had something to doubt,” Evan admits. Tommy chuckles. 

“Well, don’t start now,” he commands teasingly. Evan pushes him jokingly, but Tommy pulls him tight before he can put too much distance between them. “Hey,” Tommy mutters.

Evan’s got a soft smile on his lips as he hums a response, one that radiates subtle happiness that warms Tommy’s stomach. Evan’s heard the truth in Tommy’s words, but he knows Evan well enough to know that reassurances aren’t a one-time deal. 

Tommy pulls Evan so he can press their foreheads together, ensuring he can’t duck his head and look away like he often does when he’s uncomfortable with Tommy’s affirmations. He holds the back of Evan’s neck in one hand, the other pressing just over Evan’s heart, the one that he wears so blatantly open on his chest. 

Tommy ensures there’s no room for interpretation when he says, “You are my family, Evan Buckley. Okay?”

Evan nods, a dark blush blooming on his face that Tommy can’t help but kiss. Evan might not believe it now, but he will.

(The next time Tommy can get their schedules to line up, he makes Evan his family in a more official capacity—on one knee with a ring in his trembling hands. Of course, Evan says yes.)

read on ao3

[gabessquishytum]

I'm obsessed with your blog! Thank you for bringing me joy everyday!

I'm currently on vacation and since you have me thinking about Dreamling all the time now, I had an idea.

Dream has been stressed and working too much, so Death gifts him a stay in a Wellness Hotel. Dream is super tense at first, not used to relaxing by the pool all day and going to the sauna. He doesn't feel comfortable being so undressed in front of so many people. Death also booked him a massage appointment. He's reluctant to go, but he decides to go through with it. Enter Hob, the masseur! Hob is doing his best not to show how cute he thinks his newest client is. He's not sure he succeeded with how uncomfortable Dream looks and how tense he is lying on the bench. It takes a long time for Dream to relax under Hob's warm, strong hands. When Hob massages down Dream's arm to his palm, Dream unconsciously links their fingers. Hob is startled but decides not to say anything, unwilling to make Dream tense up again. He finishes the massage one handed, even if that's more taxing for himself. When the time is up Hob gently asks "How are you feeling, Duck? Can I have my hand back now?" The nickname isn't really professional, but Hob can't quite help himself. Dream is mortified when he realizes he's holding Hob's hand, but he also doesn't want to let go. After all it's not everyday that such a handsome man is smiling at him so warmly and being so patient and understanding with him.

Okay, this is absolutely adorable - thank you so much for sending it!!!!

Dream does (reluctantly) give Hob his hand back. His blushing so hard and he's got that post-massage dizzy feeling. But Hob shakes his head gently, helps Dream to sit up so he can drink glass of water - and goes right back to holding his hand. As Dream sips his water and tries not to act so flustered, Hob chatters away about the best things to do at the hotel - what the best food on the menu is, how the organised nature hikes are so relaxing, how he hopes that Dream will at least spend some more time in the spa before he leaves. Dream manages to murmur that he would like to relax, he's just struggling and doesn't really know how.

Hob smiles understandly. He suggests that Dream should come by again tomorrow. "Not for the full massage again. I'll just do your hands. Does that sound good? You can practice relaxing and hold my hand at the same time."

Dream is still blushing when he leaves and heads to his room for a nap. He can't stop thinking about Hob. He can't wait to have their fingers interlinked again. Hes pretty sure that he's found the cure to his inability to relax - he just needs Hob. Maybe on a permanent basis...

[m1d-45]

Hi,um this is my first time so I'm sorry if the requests are close.So I read a few genshin sagau and what would happen if the reader get smaller if they don't receive love?Like,they turn younger and younger.And 1 of the character found them but instead if the so called imposter, they find a child?What would happen

Again,im sorry.If the requests are close,then pls ignore me.im more scared of getting a reply😭

the young

a/n: requests are open, don’t worry! personally, i don’t plan on ever properly ‘closing’ them, only delaying / putting them on second priority for whatever reason. thank you for sending in a request, and if this isn’t what you wanted, then feel free to ask again!

word count: ~1.3k

-> warnings: unedited stream of consciousness, but not much else! imposter au. slight mention of addiction, probably obsessive behavior / thoughts… rip to klee / diona / dori / sayu / qiqi mains. mad respect though.

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky

at first, you didn’t notice.

teyvat, in its loving kindness, had kept you safe after you’d been run out of the city. boars made sure nobody got too close, cranes kept watch, birds fluttered around your small campsite during the night. your loyal guard, always there, inhuman to some but a blessing to you. the people may not believe you, they may run you out and shout for your capture, but teyvat would always be there.

it would lower the boughs on trees as you mumbled about not being able to reach the fruit, it would send smaller companions as you jumped at the size of a crow, it would lead you to areas with smaller and smaller wildlife, all in the hopes that if it made you happy enough, you would stop shrinking.

when you did notice, you were afraid.

you were sitting on a rock, absentmindedly braiding wildflowers together. they seemed larger than usual in your palms, but so did everything else! your mind told you it was just because teyvat’s plants and animals were bigger than the ones in your world, but you didn’t really believe it.

a large raven carefully landed on the rock besides you, eyes peering at your creation. it was huge, the size of a puppy at least.

…a dog, you correct yourself. no puppy is that large.

the bird hops closer, talons clicking on the stone, beady eyes still watching the wildflowers in your hands. it’s large, unnervingly so, and you swallow before turning back to braiding.

when you reach for another flower, it takes more strength than it should to pull it up.

grass bends under determined shoes, eyes scanning the undergrowth. ferns part, your main ducking under surprisingly low branches. they’d heard from the locals that the imposter was spotted around here, and they needed to be the one to find you.

they couldn’t let down their god. they couldn’t let them down, not when they’d already been punished by being deprived of their aura. they didn’t know what they did, they didn’t receive an answer no matter how hard they begged, but they were certain this could fix it. after all, they were still the favorite, right? they still had their weapon, and their artifacts that had taken ages to collect, and they could still sweep away enemies with the same strength.

all that was missing was the precious aura of being close to the creator, a feeling they would do anything to get back.

the memory spurred them on, even as the thicket grew denser. they did their best to push through, the golden shimmer of their weapon being summoned making up for the lack of light filtering through the leaves, but it’s like the very earth didn’t want them going here.

the thought made them pause, but only momentarily. if the earth didn’t want them there, then that meant it was dangerous, a threat to the people nearby. at the very least, they had to see whatever it was to ensure they could bring the proper amount of backup.

as they cut through the leaves and bushes—doing their best to preserve as much as they could, unwilling to destroy what their god had so lovingly created—they began to feel the same thrill in their bones that came from being near their god. when they first noticed they had to stop their progress, leaning against a tree to mumble a prayer of thanks.

they’d missed this. they’d missed it so deeply, a hole in their soul that nothing could ever fill. from being surrounded by it daily, in and out of battle and other errands, to being stranded without it for months… it could only be compared to an addiction.

when they got their wits about them, they shakily drew their weapon once more. this had to be a reward, right? for going out of their way to protect the people? this had to be a sign, acknowledgment from the only one they truly cared about, and it only reinforced their actions. cutting through the brush was hard, a task of which progress seemed slower and slower with every breath, but this made it worth it.

with a final use of their skill—carefully aimed, as they were well aware of how their hands trembled—the foliage gave way, opening into a beautiful meadow. birds chirped and called, butterflies landed on flowers, and a creek bubbled through the center, emptying into a pool on one side. it was beautiful, an area certainly blessed by their god’s love, and they took a moment to look in awe.

“hello?”

the call of a child snapped them from their thoughts, the feeling of a divine aura pulsing in their veins, and they turned to the source.

a small child was sitting in the grass near the edge of the clearing, butterflies and birds surrounding them like a personal guard. in their hands was a braid of flowers, their clothes stained with dirt and grass.

“hello.”

the favored rushed to try and rationalize the situation, thoughts slowed to a drip of honey by the bliss in the air. this… child had to be the reason they were being blessed, right? their god wanted them to save them from whatever the earth didn’t want them to see, right? perhaps the child was one of their vessels as well? though rare, it wasn’t unheard of..

the child stood from the grass, setting down the flowers and attempting to brush some of the dirt off their clothes. it didn’t work as well as they might have hoped.

they cleared their throat, catching the child’s attention. “you should come with me.”

one of the birds besides the child cawed loudly in protest, flapping its wings. neither payed any mind.

“why?”

‘why’ indeed. they couldn’t exactly explain the entire concept of divinity to somebody so young, and it would surely only give whatever monster lied in wait more time to return. if they were a villager’s kid, they would have heard of them being missing, but they didn’t, so no chance of using the ‘your parent sent me for you’ line…

“somebody very important is looking for you,” they settled, taking a step towards them. “and they’ve sent me to come find you.”

please say yes. please just come with me. i can’t hurt a child. i need you to come with me.

i need their favor once more.

to their relief, the child walked closer to them, and they crouched to meet their eyes. the blessing of their god thudded alongside their own heartbeat, their vision swimming at the edges. this is what they were meant to do. they had to bring this kid to their god. this is how they would be forgiven.

the child said something, something along the lines of trust and belief, but they fell on deaf ears. in an easy motion, the favored picked up the child and stood, walking for where they had entered the meadow.

the kid squirmed in their arms, making themself comfortable, but they didn’t stop marching. exiting was far easier than entering, the leaves no longer seeming to fight them—not that it mattered. they had the key to their god’s favor in their arms, and their blessing in their veins. nothing would stop them from returning to their former position, to where they belonged.

nothing would stop them from returning to their god’s side.

[azsazz]

Warrior Status

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Multiple Anon Request(s): "I’m not sure if requests are open, but maybe Az dealing with his kids as teenagers? 🥰"

"I absolutely love the children you made up for the inner circle!!!! Based on them, I had the idea to ask for a fic about them as teenagers; I feel like that dynamic would be fun to read about. Obsessed with your writing, and wanted to mention that I always look forward to your posts. I have your notifications on, so whenever u post I literally drop everything to read them❤️❤️"

In other words: Az trying to cope with his two oldest sons about to partake in the Blood Rite.

Warnings: Sparring/fighting but otherwise none.

Word Count: 2,483

_________________________________________

“Again, Baz,” Azriel demands, weapon raised high in his fighting stance.

They’ve been at it for hours, sparring with his son. They’d already run through hours of fighting fist to fist, and Azriel had more bruises inflicted by the young half–Illyrian than he’d like to admit. Now, they fight sword to sword and would finish the night with one last round of hand-to-hand combat, the shadowsinger analyzing Baz’s skills. He’s dripping sweat and feels centuries older than he is. Working as the spymaster of the Night Court and raising six kids will do that to a male.

A shadow alerts him to someone coming at him from behind and he ducks beneath Baz’s sword, twisting around just in time as his oldest – Wren – brings his own weapon down in a mighty swing, meant to cleave him in two. Azriel’s sword catches Wren’s, stopping the attempt with ease.

His free hand slides to his favorite knife strapped to his thigh. He unsheathes Truth–Teller, looking as sharp and menacing as ever, using the short blade in tandem with his longsword to block the onslaught of attacks from both of his sons.

Had they forgotten that he’d been doing this for centuries with his own brothers?

“What are we doing this for?” Baz snarls, his temper smoldering as he dodges a blow that would’ve cut his head clean from his shoulders, “We’re ready.”

“You’re not,” Azriel disagrees, parrying in defense. On the outside he’s cool and calm, stoic as he’s always been since he’s mastered himself, but on the inside his stomach coils with nerves, worried for his sons’ well-being as their day to partake in the Blood Rite nears. 

They’re nowhere near ready, by what his shadows and own eyes tell him. Wren still leans too far on his back foot when he strikes and godsdammit if he has to tell Baz one more time to keep his fucking elbow up–he exhales a steady breath, trying not to get too worked up about the flaws he witnesses. They might as well be as trained as the first years.

Baz self-corrects on his next swing and Azriel notes it with a clenched jaw. The nineteen year old has better control of the few shadows he has, a dark whisper of the mistake his father had seen in his ear, the young warrior scolding himself for it.

“What do you do when you wake up and are completely alone? No weapons, no wings, no siphons, with your brother and cousins at different points of the mountain?”

“Fight my way to them,” Baz responds, chest heaving. There’s a wicked glint in his eye, one of bloodlust and it reminds Azriel so much of himself when he was his son’s age, angry with the world and ready to tear apart anything that got in his way. “Obviously.”

“You could hardly hold your own against me hand-to-hand earlier,” Azriel comments, the cut and thrust he sends towards the more reckless of his sons shoves him off balance as he drives him around the ring, his shadows keeping a watch on Wren, who seems to be content to watch, his nose still dripping blood from where his father had drove the butt of his sword into it. 

Baz desperately tries to counter his father’s blows but Azriel does not yield.

“If you want to survive the Blood Rite you have to know these things,” the spymaster says, frustratedly.

Both Wren and Baz are nearly at the age to partake in the Blood Rite and Azriel couldn’t be more nervous. He remembers his time in the bloody test like it was yesterday. Waking up cold and alone and half-naked, his brothers were nowhere to be found. He’d fought tooth and nail against the full–blooded Illyrians, who’d made it their first task to kill him before assuming the climb. Many of them did not get the chance to reach the summit as the shadowsinger plowed through them to get to his brothers. 

His solution to all of his pent up anxiety is to make his children spar with him after every training day, making sure they’re prepared for the absolute worst.

It’s been centuries since he’d been in the Rite with his brothers, the three of them separated and having to fight their way back to each other, up the mountain itself to get to the onyx monolith at the top, securing their status as Carynthian warriors, but he’d never forget the hardships they’d all had to face to reach the summit.

“You don’t have to make it, you just have to survive.”

“We will,” Wren grits, wiping his nose on his sleeve as he comes to his little brother’s aid. They’ve been sparring together for years now but somehow their father’s skill still seems to surprise them. The seven cobalt siphons adorning his body only prove how proficient the male is at fighting.

And even though Baz has the same amount of siphons Azriel does, and Wren with five of his own, they still don’t even compare to the warrior that their father is.

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t have faith in us?” Wren asks angrily, aiming a clear cut to the back of his father’s thigh. The spymaster winces, hissing as he’s caught off guard but he retaliates with his own swing that neatly disarms his oldest son.

“I do,” Azriel pants, dipping low to avoid the left hook Baz throws his way. Always one to abandon his weapons and favors the feel of flesh against his knuckles, his son. Azriel pushes up from his crouch, delivering an uppercut that has his second oldest seeing stars as he falls back into the melted snow mixed with mud and blood beneath them, effectively ending the spar. “But me having faith in you isn’t going to help you reach the monolith.”

He offers down a hand but Baz ignores it, pushing himself to his feet and retreating towards the cabin with Wren by his side. Azriel disregards the hurt in his chest as he trails them, brushing his fingers through Jax’s hair when he reaches the home, the younger boy sitting on the steps, watching them intensely.

“Good job dad,” he compliments. They hadn’t let him join but he’s only a few years off from entering his own Blood Rite, the fifteen year old absorbing every training and spar that he can with those observing eyes.

He’s the best in his class and will be participating in the tradition by himself, unless Zuzu decides to join as well. She seems to be enjoying her Valkyrie training with her aunt, and it isn’t a requirement to become a full warrior in their legion, but knowing his little girl, she won’t let Jax go through it alone. That stubborn little girl will do anything to prove she’s as good as her brothers.

“Thanks, buddy. Why don’t you go wash up before dinner? I’ll be in in a minute.”

The teen nods, scrambling up the steps with a holler to his siblings, calling dibs on going first in the after dinner game the six of them had seemed to make up, something about rolling dice to get the highest score…he’s sure he’s missing some rules but he can’t be arsed to remember  right now.

Azriel takes a powerful leap, spreading his aching wings wide, flapping them a few times to get airborne. He just needs a few moments alone.

__________

“All your father wants is for you to make it out of the Blood Rite alive,” you explain softly, using a damp cloth to wipe the drying blood from Wren’s nose. Your oldest flinches, his face still tender, and you soothe his hair from his forehead with an apologetic look. “He will be proud of you boys no matter what echelon you become, you know that.”

“It doesn’t fucking seem like it,” Baz mutters, arms crossed against his chest as he toes at the carpet with his socked foot.

“Language,” you scold and your son just rolls his eyes.

“Mom,” he sighs, exasperated. Your second oldest huffs as you gesture him over to the seat next to his brother so you can examine his wounds.

You’d gotten pretty good at patching up cuts throughout the years you’d been with Az, and you’d even gone so far as to read up on a few things from the library during your spare time, and had been watching Madja fix up your children’s scrapes and bruises for nearly two decades after that. You could easily be a healer if you wanted to.

“Baz,” you mock, assessing his face. It’s been a long time since he’d lost his baby fat, growing into a young adult, sharp jaw like his father’s with a mouth to rival his Uncle Cassian’s. 

Azriel must’ve been agitated enough for him to have placed a well aimed hit like this, he normally stops himself before laying too much damage on his sons. They must’ve been more mouthy with their father today during training than they usually are. The Illyrian and fae blood in him will take care of the bruising within minutes, Baz has nothing to worry about.

“Nyx and Gideon don’t have to do extra training everyday,” Wren protests, and your heart aches a little because when did they all decide not to call each other by their nicknames anymore? “Every single day mom, can you believe it?”

You can believe it, pressing your lips in a tight line. Azriel is one of the most powerful Illyrians in history and he loves his children so much that this must be tearing the male apart, having to watch his sons going through this without his help. He hated all of the Illyrian traditions, would murder the entire race if he could, but the Blood Rite was the worst of them all.

“He’s worried,” you tell them, sitting between them when they scoot apart to make room. You wring the damp cloth between your hands, staring at it like it’s the most interesting thing in Prythian. “We both are.”

At the waver in your admission they cling to you. Your sons may pretend to be all big and bad, but they’re softies just like their father, aching at the sound of you unhappy. 

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Baz says, his voice raw with emotion. You lean your head against his, sighing when you hear Malos yelling at Jax in the other room. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

__________

Your mate hadn’t said a word since he’d arrived back at the cabin in the Illyrian war camp. You’d built one of your own, next to Rhys’ mother’s because your family was too large and rowdy to share the space with Azriel’s brothers and their families. 

He hadn’t even come by for dinner, and tried to ignore you calling out to him through the bond, but when he felt that frustration burning hot across the tether of emotion between the two of you, that he was in deep shit he responded softly.

It’s silent as you climb into bed next to him, lying flat on your back and staring up at the dark ceiling, all of your children sleeping – or pretending to – in the other rooms of the house.

“Wren and Baz are sneaking out,” he sighs, tossing an arm over his eyes. He doesn’t know why his children even try, his shadows note everything that they do, always have. He gets that they’re young and reckless and he was too when he was their age, so he lets them off the hook most of the time.

“They’re probably going to get a drink with their cousins after the days that they’ve had,” you respond, and there it is, the reason for the rift between the two of you. Azriel worked his sons to the brink.

“What did they tell you?” he murmurs the question as he rolls onto his side to face you, afraid of what they might’ve said.

“You’re running them ragged, they’ll be too exhausted to fight in the Rite if they have to with the rate you’re going,” you tell him gently, caressing his cheek with your thumb. He looks so tired, exhausted with worry, and you can’t wait for the Blood Rite to be over, but then you’ll have to deal with your mate worrying about your other four children, even though they’re years away from their own Rite’s.

“When they have to,” he corrects, clenching his jaw. It isn’t going to be easy for his sons, they’re less Illyrian than he and everyone seemed to hate him and his brothers when they were young. He can only imagine what the rest of them will try and do to his sons.

“They’re smart boys and have gotten training from the finest Illyrian warriors for almost their entire lives,” your voice is gentle, caring. “They don’t think you’ll be proud of them if they come out as anything less than Carynthian.”

His jaw slackens in shock, “Of course I would,” he protests, “They can be any echelon and I’d be the most proud. Look at Nesta for mother’s sake, she’s Oristian and could easily defeat a Carynthian. The title means little to me.”

“I know,” you sooth, letting him cuddle into your side, resting his head over your chest as you wrap an arm around him, mindlessly drawing circles across his back. “But they don’t know that.”

“Do they hate me? For going too hard on them?” he’s scared to ask, his voice is the smallest you’ve ever heard it and your heart cracks in your chest.

“No, absolutely not,” you respond firmly, giving him a jostle for good measure. “They love you so much, Azriel. Wren and Baz seem to think that you don’t have faith that they can do this. I think it’s getting to them a little more than they know.”

He sighs, shutting his eyes as he squeezes you in a hug. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

You run your fingers through his ink black hair, watching him. Your beautiful mate, always thinking he’s done something to upset his children.

“You didn’t fuck up, you just need to explain to them that you’re worried. Be open with them and I think you’ll be surprised,” you explain, kissing him on his forehead. He peers up at you, hazel eyes gleaming with thanks and love settling between the two of you, the bond buzzing.

“I love you (Y/N). More than you know.”

You return his smile, a dust of pink warming your cheeks. “I love you too, Az,” you admit, the butterflies awakening in your stomach like they always do when he says those words to you. You share an intimate kiss, soft and sweet. “Do you have any energy left for me, perchance?” you ask cheekily, squealing out a laugh when he rolls you on top of him.

“For you? Always, my love.”

[m3r1m4r5u333]

Oh my. I've obsessed over the Ana-visits-the-fire-station-scene before but I hadn't even realised how much Eddie really keeps staring at Buck until today when I watched it super slow. I wanted still pictures to really showcase where Eddie is looking and how many times his gaze returns to Buck, but the picture limit makes that impossible.

Anyway, Eddie is absolutely staring and struggles to stop. There was even this one sliding shot where the frame first includes both Buck and Ravi about equally much... But then it's like Eddie's eyes just can't stop drifting more and more on Buck - so the shot that's obviously Eddie's POV just wanders more and more to the left, towards Buck, until Ravi almost disappears from the frame.

Okay, I've skipped the very beginning, Ana arriving (+ Eddie kissing her cheek like Ana's his abuelita or something) and bringing three salads to Eddie.

Buck runs up to them, calls Chris their new chief and lifts him up to hug him. It's a tight, long hug, like they haven't seen in a while and Buck has really missed him. Buck asks Christopher how he is.

Let's focus on Eddie's reactions.

(Looks like he's thinking: They're so cute together.. Buck is so good with him. 🥰)

Buck asks Chris how he is. Eddie gathers his wits, well kinda, and introduces Chris to Ravi... Eddie also forgets to introduce Ana to Ravi. Pays no attention to Ana.

Chris asks Ravi if he's a firefighter. Ravi tells Chris that he's a probationary firefighter. Chris asks him if he did something wrong. Buck (who was quite ridiculously invested in Ravi's training) quips "constantly!", then smiles. Eddie looks at Buck...

And finds that hilarious, ducks his head and smiles to himself like he's remembering something....

And then he just keeps grinning like a besotted fool, totally in a world of his own. Ana and Ravi are waiting for Eddie to introduce them to each other, it becomes awkward.

Finally Ana just goes "I'm Ana!" which startles Eddie out of his daydreams. Eddie's gaze drifts to Buck who is frowning like "wtf Eddie?"

Eddie quickly looks away.

... And then Eddie just needs to look again...

(Right then Ravi assumes that Ana is Eddie's wife and Christopher quips "not yet!" to Ravi's assumption. Ana and Eddie lose their smiles...)

(My headcanon: No, how could I marry her when I don't love her, I'd be happier with...)

Oh. Buck.

Like arranging a cherry on top of the cake Ana then says:

"So... Even in the darkness this place is amazing."

Not that we see her say it because Eddie's attention is once again on Buck, looking back at Eddie, in the dark room...

Eddie, panicking, delegates Ana's fire station tour to Ravi, then Eddie's eyes again seek Buck's and linger on Buck while Eddie mutters that he'll "put these up there" (salads Ana brought),

then Eddie, eyes flitting between Ana and Buck, rambles "I don't want these things to wilt!" and skedaddles.

...

If there's a heterosexual explanation to this all then I can't fucking find it!!

[teyums]

no cause imagine being friends with the sully family since you were kid and ended up having a secret relationship with lo’ak when you’re both teens and you two having to sneak around to be together… him just being completely obsessed with so he’s always trying to get away from everyone’s eyes to give you kisses… UGH I CANT I WANT HIM AS MY BF

no cause why is y/n living my dream rn?? Sneaking around with Lo’ak sounds like sm fun 🤭

“Just come on, it’ll be funnn,” Lo’ak cooed in a sing-song tone, holding your hands in his as he walked his way backwards, trying to coax you into the direction of the vast trees.

“Shhh, you skxawng (moron)!” You swished your head around to glance behind you, turning towards him once more with hesitancy written on your features. “Your family is literally right over there! Don’t you think they’re going to wonder where we disappeared to?”

“I don’t care!” He whined, his head dipping back to exaggerate the urgency of his complaint. Huffing out in frustration when you let your heels dig into the dirt to stop your legs from moving. And instead of pulling your arms again, he switched his hold to your waist. Strong hands yanking your body to him. “I haven’t been able to get you alone in forever…” He breathed out, the subtle glint in his eye telling you that he really couldn’t wait.

“I was literally alone with you last night, Lo’ak.”

“Too damn long.” He nearly purred, curious hands traveling downwards with a mind of their own and making your breath catch in your throat.

With your palms resting on his chest you gave him a warning glance. Not because he was trying to convince you, but because he was actually succeeding and you knew you wouldn’t be able to say no to him for much longer. You smacked his shoulder lightly, causing him to retract his hold back to you waist to ensure he wouldn’t get carried away. “We can’t.” You sighed, gently brushing your finger along his collarbone, eyes trailing the movement.

His head tilted to bring his lips closer to yours, stopping just before they could touch. “Oh, but baby, we can.” He grinned, mischief pooling within his eyes. The pads of his fingers began tickling at your sides and you tried not to giggle as you squirmed in his grasp, quickly nodding your head in agreement.

“Okay, okay! Fine.” You rushed out hurriedly, somehow out of breath. Probably because the close proximity of his lips were threatening to pull you into a trance and blow your entire cover. The intense look in his eyes making you forget why you were even apprehensive in the first place.

“Oh thank God.” He groaned, bending his knees and swiping his arm under your legs. Hoisting you up into his hold and wasting no time in taking you somewhere private.

“I can walk, you know!”

“Baby, no offense, but you’re short and you walk slower than my grandmother. I’m not waiting any longer than I have to.” He scoffed, ducking the both of you under a low hanging branch and ignoring the way your jaw fell open at his response.

[hollowhearts-and-espresso]

on an outsiders kick so heres the main gang as things me and my friends have said

Soda: Your wish is my command. Be gay forever

Steve: I'm still straight but I'd fuck you now

Soda: Not that gay

--

Darry: I dont really like you. Why are you always hanging around?

Dally: I ask myself the same thing every single day

--

Pony: I know we're supposed to be saying embarrassing things about ourselves but before we talk about me i'm really upset Two-Bit didnt mention the fact that he was in love with thomas the train

Two-Bit: i watched ONE episode when i was FIVE go fuck yourself

Pony: You have a shrine by your bed

Two-Bit: irrelevant

--

Johnny: I'm not really scared of anything, no

Johnny: but cats freak me out. and so do dogs, sometimes, but mainly cats. and especially ducks. oh, and needles, and doctors in general. also loud noises, sharp objects near me, any sort of projectile, and stoves. but like, thats not that many things

Dally: I understand so much about you now

--

Pony: I'm going to write a novel and all of you are gonna have characters based off you. Any questions about it?

Two-Bit: Am I hot?

Pony: No. Next question

Darry: Am I going to regret reading this?

Pony: For sure. Next.

Johnny: Please dont make me a crybaby

Pony: You shouldnt read this. Next

Steve: Can me and Soda date?

Pony: You already are. Next

Soda: Can me and Steve not date?

Pony: Too late. You know you love him. Next

Dally: You're going to make my character really deep, arent you?

Pony: Possibly. Havent decided yet. Anything else?

Johnny: Is Dally as hot in the book as he really is?

Pony: I'll no longer be taking questions because I'm extremely uncomfortable, but on second thought, you might really like this book

--

Two-Bit, upon walking in on Steve and Soda cuddling: I leave for FIVE minutes and i'm left out of fucking everything. all the fucking time. i hate everyone in this house

Steve: Do you want to lay with us?

Soda: Yeah, come lay with us

Two-Bit, practically dropping himself on them: I'm still mad at you

--

Dally: For some reason Ponyboy is really obsessed with the idea of me being really soft inside and just not showing it so I dont get hurt. I think he wants me to be narrative foils with our other friend too

Dally: How do i tell him i'd change the narrative doom him if i could and feel no remorse without crushing that hope in him

--

Pony: I like to think its a secret but me and everyone around me knows im writing a slowburn, hes only soft to him trope, slight enemies to lovers fanfiction about Johnny and Dally in my head

Dally: the term fanfiction implies i have fans

Johnny: i'm a fan of you

Pony, whispering: they practically write it themselves

--

Dally: Here, i stole this. dont ask questions, just take it

Darry, taking the sleeping pigeon that Dally just handed him with a mildly horrified expression: where did you get this?

Dally: i told you i'd bring back souvenirs from my field trip. no more questions

--

Johnny: Not many people like me.

Johnny: its probably because im kind of a pussy, but i like to tell myself its because i'm annoying because at least then im not calling myself a pussy

Dally: Wait, wait. Who doesnt like you?

Johnny: Huh? Why does it matter?

Dally: No reason. Just, like, give me an example

Pony, in the kitchen and hears all of this: *puts the knives in the cabinet where Dally wont look for them* I dont really want to have to bail anyone out again

--

Soda, to Darry: I think Steve is kind of in love with me, but I really dont want to have to break it to him that I dont feel the same

Steve, with Soda in his lap: *stops playing with Sodas hair* What?

Soda: Nothing, baby, you're fine

Darry: I will never understand you

--

yes, one of my friends did bring a live pigeon back from a field trip. it slept a lot, and we'd hold him all the time while he slept and he'd stay asleep when we passed him around because we had to move. i hope he wasnt sick and is doing okay

[centralperkchenford]

5x03 but instead of Lucy being alone locked in the freezer it’s both her and Tim locked in also Lucy has broken up with chris but Tim doesn’t know that so he’s kinda making comments about him and Lucy snaps and tells him that they broke up and Tim being the show you kind of guy kiss her and ✨feelings✨ come out

5x03 but instead of Lucy being alone locked in the freezer it’s both her and Tim locked in also Lucy has broken up with chris but Tim doesn’t know that so he’s kinda making comments about him and Lucy snaps and tells him that they broke up and Tim being the show you kind of guy kiss her and ✨feelings✨ come out

I obviously changed it so Tim & Lucy were riding together and Ashley doesn’t exist in this one! I hope you like it! 🩷

All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life

Lucy grips the steering wheel as she focuses on the road not looking at Tim besides her. She was suppose to ride alone today, but things got moved around at last minute and Grey had placed Tim with her.

Which was fine.

Except they wasn’t fine, things were tense between them and Lucy had been looking forward to being alone with her thoughts today. She had just broken up with Chris a few days before. He had become obsessed with this site with theories about Rosalind and when she tried to talk to him about it, he had taken it the wrong way and started screaming at her that she had no idea how he felt. And just like when he bummed the song he backtracked and apologized but Lucy knew he was apologizing just to apologize.

He would never understand how she felt or the trauma she went through with Caleb and Rosalind. She had ended it then and there and Chris had stormed out of her apartment like a five year old child.

And now here she was in a shop with the one person who she knew she could always talk to and who actually understood her. Except they weren’t talking, and if anything it was making Lucy’s anxiety worse.

She chances a glance at Tim who is looking out the window a frown on his face and she wishes she could see his whole face so she could read it. She glances over looking past Tim and sees what looks like a homeless person going into a abandoned building. Tim must see it too because he picks up the radio calling it in just as Lucy is pulling to the side of the road.

They both get out of the shop, and make their way towards the building. Tim is in front of her and ducks down to go in first with Lucy close behind him. The go separate ways each with their flashlight shining through the dirty building.

Lucy shined her flashlight into what looks like a freezer and sees some clothes and some little bags. She steps inside, and calls out to Tim.

“Tim! Come here!” She yells and she hears his hurried steps coming towards her. She searches the room just as Tim comes into it.

“Hey. What’s up?” He asks but before she can answer the door is being shut close. It clicks in place and they exchange glances as Tim hurries over and starts banging on the door while Lucy starts calling on the radio.

“Damnit.” She hears Tim mutter. She glances over at him a frown on her face.

“Control, 7-L-19. I need backup to my location.” She says into the radio but all she gets is static. She glances over at Tim again who is still banging on the door. There is a yellow smiley face on the door looking at them as if it’s taunting them. She pulls out her cell phone but there’s no service.

“Damnit!” She cries. “We are stuck!” Tim stops banging on the door and takes a deep breath as he walks over to her.

“We will find a way out.” He says gently. “Someone will know we are missing.” She looks up at him and his face is sincere he actually believes that. She sighs and pulls out her phone again opening it and it opens to the last tab she was on.

The messaging boards.

“What’s that?” Tim asks her curiously. She pulls her phone closer and swallows.

“Uh it’s these messaging boards. Chris joined it, they talk about Rosalind.” She says quietly and Tim wrinkles his nose whether it’s at Chris or Rosalind she’s not sure.

“Oh.” He says. “Why are you looking at it?” She looks up at him and he’s gazing at her intently waiting for her to answer.

“Chris said it helped him get through.. you know and I don’t know I thought it was kind of weird so I checked it out.” She says. Tim nods slightly and he steps a little closer to her.

“Is he okay?” He asks. “Chris? How is he doing?” Lucy turns away from Tim and doesn’t answer right away. She realizes Tim doesn’t know she broke up with Chris. And honestly she could care less about how he’s doing. After their breakup she felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt free and confident.

“Lucy?” Tim says again. “Is Chris doing okay? I mean I haven’t seen much of him.” And he wonders why Tim cares so much about now Chris is doing, it’s not like he’s like him that much.

“He’s fine.” Is all Lucy’s says but she still doesn’t turn around to face him. She hears Tim sigh as she absently scrolls through the message board. She hears Tim pacing behind her but she does her best to ignore him.

“You deserve better.” Tim says suddenly. Lucy’s finger freezes on the screen as she turns around her ears ringing. “Than Chris. He just seems to be all about himself.” Which is true. Tim continues seemingly unaware that Lucy is just staring at him.

“I mean I don’t know why I insisted you go out with him. He was a jerk to you about that case.” Again true she thinks bitterly. But she doesn’t blame Tim for setting them up.

“He’s bland too.” Tim says looking up at the ceiling. “Do you guys doing anything but takeout?” Nope. He doesn’t cook.

Lucy rocks back and forth it on her feet, she still doesn’t say anything because she’s not sure what to say. There’s a long pause and it makes Lucy think Tim is done with his little rant about Chris but then he’s talking again.

“Are you staying with him because of what Rosalind did or because you love him?” Tim asks her . She opens her mouth to reply but then shuts it. No. She didn’t love Chris not even a little bit. “Because if it’s out of guilt you need to know what happened to him isn’t your fault Lucy. You can’t blame yourself and you can’t be in a relationship with someone because you feel guilty.” Lucy turns her back to him tears burning her eyes.

“Chris doesn’t deserve you. You are.. you are amazing Lucy and he’s just isn’t.” Tim says his voice sounding a little rough. “You deserve someone who will see how amazing you are and who is worth the effort.”

Lucy moves across the freezer and into a corner sliding down on the floor but still not saying anything. She knew Tim was right, she just wished he knew how much those words meant to her.

She glances down at her phone. No signal. She tries the radio one more time but there’s nothing but static. She chances a glance at Tim who is turned away his shoulders tense. There’s a long silence and then Tim speaks again and now his voice has an edge to it.

“I’m sure when you don’t show up to your date with Chris he will report you missing.” He says and Lucy snaps.

“I broke up with Chris!” She says cooly standing up from the wall. “So no he won’t report me missing.” Tim turns around to face her, he’s frowning but he has a softer look to his face than normal.

“You—” He begins. “You broke up with him?” She nods and wipes furiously at the tears in her eyes. Tim walks across the room to where she is and stands in front of her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. She glances up at him, and he’s a little blurry through the tears.

“Because we aren’t talking Tim!” She says throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “There is this awkwardness since you— sent me away and told me to move on!” Tim blinks at her and steps closer, she swallows hard at being this close to him and remembering their last kiss in the airplane bathroom.

“I did that because I was looking out for you Lucy. I didn’t want to hurt you.” He says and this time she steps forward.

“What is that suppose to mean?” She asks him softly. Tim sighs and she takes another step forward and then before she can even blink his lips are crashing into hers. Next thing she knows he has her backup against the wall. And the kiss is much like the one in the airplane bathroom except this one feels.. it feels real. It feels like everything she has been missing and craving since Vegas. She pulls back and he chases her lips for a second before making a noise of protest.

“Tim.” She says breathlessly. “We can’t—” Tim wraps his arm around pulling her into him and she relaxes into his touch. She hasn’t felt this safe in a long time. The last time was when Tim pulled her out of that barrel and held her in his arms while she sobbed.

“Why can’t we?” He asks her softly. “Why can’t we take the risk of us?” Lucy bites her lips and looks up at him. He looks vulnerable as if saying no would break his heart in two and that’s the last thing she wants.

“Because we are—” she trails off her eyes darting to the ground. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Just the small touch sends shivers through her body. She wants him to touch her forever.

“We are what Lucy?” He asks. She lifts her head back up to his and sees nothing but adoration and sincerity in his blue eyes. “Because it’s just pretend?” No. This is very very real.

“No.” She says. “That’s not it. I just don’t want to lose you Tim. Not talking to you, not being able to be near you has been torture. I don’t want this to ruin us even more.” Tim smiles at her gently before leaning down to press his lips to her forehead. She closes her eyes at the feeling of his lips on her skin.

“You will never lose me Luce. You are worth the risk and you always have been.” He sucks in a deep breath and blows it out. “I want to be with you and everything I said earlier was true. You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are. Who is worth the effort. I am willing to take the risk of you are.”

Lucy licks her lips nervously and this time she reaches up to press her lips to his. It’s a little messy and rough considering she’s shaking a lot. She just can’t believe this is happening and Tim wants her.

“Is that a yes?” He asks her softly. He drags his fingers across her face wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Yes.” She says simply. “You are worth the risk. I’m done being scared.” The grin that breaks out on Tim’s face is the best damn thing she’s seen in awhile. He kisses her again and she falls into it feeling more comfortable now.

After awhile though, she pulls away putting her hand gently on Tim’s chest. “We are still stuck in a freezer though.” She says and Tim gathers her in his arms pulling out his radio.

“Tim, I have tried calling on the radio. It’s a dead zone in here.” She says but he just presses a kiss to her head.

“Doesn’t hurt to try.” He says softly and then calls into the radio. As expected there’s no answer and Lucy wonders if they ever will be found.

“Okay.” Says Tim putting his radio back on his belt. “For our first date—” She looks at him incredulously but before she can say anything there are loud voices outside the door.

“Bradford! Chen! Call out!” Yells a voice that sounds like Nolan. Tim and Lucy look at each other and then they are both yelling “in here.” As loud as they can, Lucy hopes Nolan can hear them through the thick door.

A few minutes later, the door bursts open and before Lucy can even think her lips are back on Tim’s.

He reciprocates and after a few moments there’s a cough behind them and they break apart to see a amused Nolan and a confused Celina looking at them.

Lucy flushes red and Tim’s large hand is on her back leading her out both of them avoiding eye contact with Nolan and his rookie.

Once they are outside and in the daylight she turns to see if Tim has any regrets but there is nothing but happiness in his face.

“So.” He says quietly. “About that first date…” She laughs softly and smiles at him as she opens the passenger door and slides in. Tim slides in next to her and starts the shop. She looks over at him and smiles at how happy and relaxed he looks. And that’s all she has ever wanted for him. Because he’s worth. They are worth it.