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#this reminds me of a girl I used to work with
bloodycassian · 3 days
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Reborn - Reader x Azriel. AN - thank you anon for this great prompt!
Requested - I don't know if your requests are open but I wanted to throw something in just in case.
An Azriel x reader, where AZ and reader have never met before, reader has been tortured and experimented on by the court of nightmares ( Keir ) she could be a shadowsinger, and they're mates, when the reader is in the verge of death for refusing to work with Keir, AZ feels it and begins to grow hectic without knowing the reason,  everyone in the inner court is confused until elain comes out of nowhere and tells everyone that his mate is in danger. ( Vision )
I have this on the back of my mind since reading some of your amazing work and couldn't stop thinking about it.
No amount of masturbation, drinking, or sparring helps the agitation under Azriel’s skin. It’s a constant, burning, itching thing that’s like a fucking disease upon his being. 
Sleep is his only relief, but even then he’s plagued with pain and darkness. It reminds him too much of the dank basement he’d been forced into when he was young, so he stays up. He’s exhausted and brooding and quick to snap at anyone who questions him. He knows he’s being a dick but according to the five healers he’d seen, there was nothing wrong. 
Nothing wrong, just like how his shadows weren’t some kind of magic, according to them. 
He’d refused to believe in healers all that much since the explanation Madja had given him about his diseased pets. The writhing, tentacles of night were a ‘bodily mutation of the highest level, tainted with fae magic’. Tainted. The word felt right for what they were, but that didn’t mean it stung any less. 
“We’ll invade here, and be able to plant our…” There was a beat of silence in Amren’s quick words, then her voice cut through his busybodied task like a knife “Azriel, are you even listening?” 
Truthfully, he hadn’t been. He’d been consumed by the ache again, the broiling sickness beneath his skin that had every muscle flexed in tension. His mind had other battles to fight. 
“What does it matter? You’ll carry out your plan with or without me. Keep talking, make yourself feel important, Amren.” His ill-tempered response came quick and laced with venom. One glance towards the small not-quite-fae female and his mind gave a twinge of regret. 
A lick of her power radiated, filling the room with something vibrant and undeniable. Cassian sucked in a breath, and a word from Rhys had her firey gaze snapping to him instead. “Take your dog from the important business then, High Lord.” Her words were precise, hissed. 
Azriel straightened. The insult didn’t land as well as Amren had wanted, in part because he couldn’t care less, another because the fire under his skin was reaching a peak that he had no idea how he survived every time it came around. He glanced to Rhys, who gave him a nod. Good. Let him free of this cage. 
He flung open the balcony doors with his cursed gift and sprinted off the ledge, launching himself into the summer air. 
+
Rats nibbled at your toes when you slept, scurrying away before you could catch them. Your senses weren’t even close to what they had been months ago. Before, you’d been able to catch at least two a week for extra sustenance. 
You told yourself that they’d learned, that they’d gotten quicker at their biting and fleeing. Truthfully, you could feel your strength waning every day. 
Living was no longer hope, and more of an inconvenience. 
But it was an inconvenience to Kier as well. And that meant you’d keep on living out of spite. 
The next female would appreciate it. 
“Arms up, legs together.” The order came with unnatural casualness that you’d grown used to. If you didn’t follow the orders, you were beaten until you either complied or were unconscious, so complying was really the only option. Especially when you were attempting to stay alive for as long as you could. 
It’s for the next girl. You chanted to yourself when the keeper made the injection. It stung like hundreds of bees attacking the same place, but the pain was familiar. A friend you welcomed before everything went sideways and the nausea rolled in. 
The drug Kier’s men gave was like none you’d experienced outside this cell. An incredible high, with a disastrous low. 
You convulsed on the floor moments later, your body still barely able to take the amount they dosed you with. You’d seen the liquid inside the damn thing grow each week, they were marking your progress with every one of them. So, with each dosing you made sure to put on some dramatics for them. 
The clawing at the throat was false, the sound of your screams only half-forced. The real, unforced reaction though, was always the shade of pallor your skin turned after every injection. The darkness that radiated from you like a bubble, the pain made physical. 
It hovered over your skin like an aura, tendrils of it washing over your forehead when the sweating started. It always started like this, for the first few hours - or possibly minutes, you weren’t sure once you were lost to the pain - they’d observe, and sometimes Kier himself would join, looking like a disappointed mother. Then, once the shaking subsided, and you were able to breathe normally, they’d release a rabbit into your cell. 
The same rabbit almost every damn time. After the first two weeks, you’d grabbed the first one and snapped it’s neck, hoping that Kier would be happy with the accomplishment and you’d earn something. You’d felt awful as it died in your hands, but the pain… if it stopped the pain, you’d kill anything. 
But time after time, they’d send in another rabbit, and though you begged for some kind of explanation of what they wished with the damn thing, they’d only observe. After a few hours of investigating, it’d eventually be removed and you’d wake up alone again.
Kier did not make an appearance today, and after your shaking stopped, neither did a rabbit.
“Where’s dinner?” You croaked, the tears stinging small cuts on your cheeks. Your friend never laughed or spoke, hardly even moved when he was in the vicinity of your cell. It was odd, even for a freak who enjoyed drugging and torturing others.
The male only stared, writing in his little notebook. He could at least humor you and tell you what he was so keenly logging. Some friend.
He opened the door, but instead of the rabbit jumping inside, he stepped forward, past the barrier and wards keeping you from breaking through. Your breathing halted. 
“Your reluctance to learn your gifts has given us no other option.”
+
“Did you lose a fight?” 
Nesta’s words normally bounced and slid right off Azriel, but with how volatile he was feeling, it took all his restraint not to snarl at her.
“Come on Az, where’s that quick wit?” She chided, crossing her legs at the knee beside her sister. 
His eyes drifted to Elain, the warm blush of her cheeks. Her lavender nightshirt made her seem so much more vulnerable than she was. He knew just how lethal the female could be, and admired her for it. His eyes drifted to the soft hair and round features that he’d once dreamt of. How foolish he’d been, how full of hope and bitterness. Now here he was, merely a ghost. A shell for pain to be housed in and nothing more. 
And here he stared at a garden of hope and light. The female who’d haunted his dreams for years. The opposite of the steel bitch that sat beside her. 
A pang of guilt pinched at him. “You’re ridiculous.” Was all he could muster at her. Nesta was trying to help, in her own way, he supposed. She was testing his limits and temper, even while balancing comforting words and attempting to heal her little sister’s mental wounds. Not to mention navigating the strange, untrained gift of Elain’s.
It wasn’t often that Azriel came to the house of wind proper. When he did, he usually confined himself to the dining area and the war room, where the formal dinners and meetings were held. He hadn’t walked the halls into the large internal library in a long, long while. No wonder they both had turned their chairs to face him when he’d cracked the door to find them both here. 
The large windows seemed crowded with the amount of books that surrounded them. The only source of light, aside from the twinkling magic fueled ones above. The room had always made Azriel feel claustrophobic, and now it set him on edge in a way different than it had before. 
Especially when Elain’s eyes bored into his own. His skin felt like it was shifting, pulling and pushing from just beneath. He was beginning to wonder if the healers had somehow missed a parasite of some kind. Something new perhaps, something they’d never seen before.
Elain’s eyes widened, her cheeks going from the pink blush to sickly pale in an instant. Her expression was unfocused, hazy - as if she were drunk. Azriel suddenly felt like he was intruding, like seeing her so vulnerable was something reserved for only those close to her. 
Nesta placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed her sister’s back comfortingly. It was about as tender as Azriel had ever seen her, even with Cassian. He watched the hands that rubbed the Seer, recalling the intense desire he’d once felt for her. Embarrassment coated his cheeks, distracting him from the physical pain for a moment.
He’d wanted to be that support for her, once. Nesta’s hand seemed to grow in his vision, the embroidered collar of Elain’s nightshirt with it. He blinked rapidly, trying to refocus. The blackness around his eyes did not recede though. His bones ached, and his headache stabbed at him like a branding iron. He rubbed his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“She needs help.” Elain gasped, coughing on a breath. Azriel wavered on his heels, something hard hitting his back, crushing his wings. 
He could barely hear the high strung sound of Elain’s voice. “She needs help, Azriel!”
+
He tore though the court, dragging Kier kicking and frothing with him. He’d received a few severe wounds from the cruel male, but nothing that a few patches of his siphons couldn’t hold together. 
The gushing stab wounds could wait. He had something far more important to tend to.
“You’re a bastard, a low-born inconsequential bastard, Shadowsinger.” Kier coughed as Azriel dragged his broken body with him. The crowd pushed and writhed around them, but his outstretched dagger kept any of the patrons from advancing. Several dark looks, hisses of death closed in around him, but he plowed through them all, working his way to the catacombs behind the stone chair that served as Rhys’s dark throne. 
“I may be a bastard-” Azriel grunted through his pain, now more fevored and intense than before. It was a wonder he’d even been able to make it here, but it did explain his sloppy handling of Kier once he’d found the male. 
“But at least I didn’t sell a daughter off as stock.” He tossed the would-be-king to the locked door of the catacombs, a part of him enjoyed the thunk his head made against the stone floor, even through the intense agony that ripped through him. 
This was not the place to show weakness. If he let his shadows drop, let the air of anything but a cold hearted killer go for even a moment he’d be trampled by the crowd. 
Kier rose slowly, muttering curses while he pulled out a key and slid the door to the side. He sketched a bow, waving Azriel in. Spit landed at Azriels feet as he crossed the threshold, and he hesitated in his step. A hiss rang out behind him, shuffling feet a song as the crowd quickly scooted back. He held his stance there for a moment, collecting the wrath that built in him. It writhed and twisted in his mind, his guts, his teeth throbbing with the urge to tare out Kier’s throat. 
The blistering heat flared again, this time in his jaw and he moved down the hall, towards the cells that an unfortunate assistant to Kier had described. 
He’d made their death quick, painless. 
+
You couldn’t scream, could hardly breathe with the weight that seemed to be growing in your chest. 
Not weight exactly, more like pressure. Internal pressure, like there was lava built up inside you with nowhere to go. And every rattling breath seemed to give it more life. You wheezed, weak with the exhaustion of fighting it. 
Your friend had given you three more of the injections, and promptly left when you began struggling against the binds at your hands and feet. One of them had ripped, you only knew because that was the hand that you’d used to claw at your chest with. 
The blood made going any further too slippery and exhausting.
There were far away sounds, but it all seemed too strange, so disjointed to be real. Screams and sharp clangs of metal, breaking glass and thudding. 
Your eyes slipped closed, and relief washed over you. The pressure eased, and the squeaky hinges of the door opened. Had death finally come? Was this the end of your cycle, and now they were bringing in a new victim to Kier’s experiments? 
There wasn’t much of a goodbye to the world, though. As sad as it was to not be able to see your family again, you were just grateful that the pain was receding. That finally there’d be no injections, no innocent rabbit and certainly no Kier around. 
The sounds were strange, a choking, strangled sound like the first time you’d killed the rabbit. Your eyes cracked open almost involuntarily to see what had happened. 
Outside your cell in a glow of blue light was a winged male, his hand wrist deep inside your friend’s chest. 
+
Blood is hotter than most people think it is. Azriel takes joy in it though, when it’s the blood of the truly vile ones. The male with the syringes and log book reeked of something spiced and foreign, something Azriel’d never encountered before. He would have asked, would have talked to the male if he’d not pulled a knife and threatened to ‘kill her’ as he backed away. 
There were no thoughts after that. And as he fell to the floor, Azriel reveled in the male’s labored breathing. Relief and heat flooded him, prickling him with a soaring joy he’d thought abandoned him long ago. He could laugh, if it weren’t for the absurdity of how it sounded to laugh at this moment.
 He plucked the book from his hands and shoved it into his belt behind him, his chest thrumming with joy.
He’d never been so filled with glee before, so overwhelmed with it after killing… Had he become broken in a sick way? Was he no better than the male he’d just killed? He looked to his hand, twisting it in the low light of his siphons. 
A wet, weak cough echoed off the walls and he spun, knife ready. 
Then the blade was on the floor as he rushed to the bars of the cell door, ripping it free of the rusted hinges. 
The female was gaunt, and frail. Yet his chest sang and though she looked moments from death, he couldn’t imagine more beauty. 
She clutched her chest, the blood there crusted and dry. “Thanks.” She croaked, voice barely a whisper. Shadows mounted around him, enclosing them in complete black. He would have thought he was winnowing if it weren't for the sorry excuse for a bed that stayed beneath her.
Azriel’s lips were moving, but he couldn’t tell what he was saying, even to his own ears. His mind, his body was a rushing river of every emotion at once, all cascading through his mind, to his chest and thrumming in his blood. Her eyes went wide and wild, searching his for a moment. His heart thundered in his ears.
What had his life been until now? Why was this moment such a climax to him so suddenly? All of it, the pain the agony, the stark moments of joy against it all - the brief moments of shared happiness that made it all worth it tore through his body like a flash floor. 
Tears pricked his eyes, and it was a curious thing to see them fall onto her neck and wash away the blood there. 
Then, a wet sigh from her lips, and her eyes stopped searching his. The rush of joy and sense of sanctuary ceased. His blood went quiet in his ears, and the room felt suddenly cold. The room silent around him, not even his shadows dared whisper.
His fingers hesitated over her cheek. When her next breath did not come, he shook her gently. Her eyes remained, staring blankly at the ceiling. 
This was truly a tomb now. 
“No…” He heard his own words that time. The word clattered through the cell like a bell tolling, echoing.
“Take her back.” A shadow hissed over his ear, caressing. 
He shook her again, the tears boiling over now, panic gripping him. 
“We know how.” another said. This voice was different, the same whispered tone and suggestion, but this was not one of his pets. He sent his own shadows skittering away, and a group of them stayed, unbound to him and unmoving from the cell. His heart skipped, fear upon fear pulling him into the icy abyss of despair. 
His own shadows returned, a broken syringe floating to him on their behest. They mingled with the others, reveling and dancing together though Azriel felt that he was slowly sinking.
“What am I supposed to do with this?!” He shouted at them, at nothing. He had truly lost his mind, hadn’t he?
“Save her.” The strange shadows told him. Just like Elain had said, overtaken by her visions.
 A tendril of the foreign shadow wrapped around his hand, locking the glass pieces there and slicing into his palm. The needle aimed directly to her chest, between the ribs, only a few inches from the heart. 
And what did he have to lose? The silence that surrounded him now was almost worse than the pain had been. Wouldn't pain at least be better than complete nothingness? To feel completely blank and unwritten as a being?
With a breath, and a part of his siphon’s power to support the broken syringe, he pushed into her skin. His own blood dribbled down the sides, mixing with hers. Through and through - until he knew that he’d met the same depth of a killing blow to an opponent’s heart. 
+
“Side, block, strike.” Cassian’s orders came out in demanding, practiced tones. Each step, each swipe of your blade met with one of Azriel’s shadows as a shield. 
His were still much, much stronger than yours, even after months of practice with them. Even with him showing you very intimately just how much they were capable of. Your cheeks blushed at the reminder of that. 
“No distractions, keep that shadow talk in the bedroom, Az.” Cassian scolded.
A smirk played at your mate’s face, and he hit you with a surprise swipe at your feet, left unprotected by your own shadows. 
You fell on your ass, cursing. 
Azriel offered a hand, panting at the exertion the sparring had taken. You were proud of that, at least. 
The first six months of training had been dedicated to building stamina, gaining back weight and muscle while balancing training your shadows to obey you. Six months ago, being able to spar with your mate had seemed like a far off dream that you’d never be capable of doing. 
But with his training, and Cassian’s encouragement, you were almost able to take him on stride for stride. Almost. 
So, you took his hand and pulled him towards you for a kiss. Then knocked his knees out from behind with a wave of your own shadows.
You smirked, and offered him a hand while Cassian boomed with laughter.
He allowed you to help him up, but cleaned in close, pecking a kiss on your cheek. 
“You’ll pay for that later.” He said in an intimate tone. A lick of his shadow wrapped around your thigh, snaking upwards. 
“Promise?” Your eyes sparkled at him, and the pain all those months ago had been worth it for this. 
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anniemika · 2 days
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No one else
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Eren Jaeger x Female Reader
Words: 6.9k
Warnings: explicit sex, cunnilingus, cursing
…..
"Mommy! Daddy’s here!” The sound of tiny footsteps echoed through the apartment, causing your maternal instincts to kick in. Worried that your daughter might trip on the stairs, you hurriedly made your way to the hallway. To your surprise, you found her standing by the door, her little backpack neatly packed, and her favorite plush toy clutched tightly under her arm.
"Sweetheart, what have I told you about running down the stairs?" you asked, trying to hide your smile at how adorable she looked.
"I know... sorry," she replied, giving you the most irresistible puppy eyes, swaying on her feet as if she knew exactly how to melt your heart. Just like someone else you knew.
"Mr. Poodles is coming with you, huh?" you said, kneeling down to help her tie her shoes properly.
"He can't wait to see Daddy, just like me," she grinned, hugging her stuffed animal. "Wish you were coming too."
For a moment, you froze. "This is your time with Daddy, baby. You've spent the whole day with me."
"But don't you want to have fun with me and Daddy too?" she asked, her innocent eyes searching for an answer. Right as she finished her question, the person of your discussion knocked on the apartment door.
"Daddy!" Your daughter practically pushed you out of the way as soon as you opened it, throwing herself into her father's arms.
"Wow! You're getting bigger every day!" he exclaimed, holding her tightly. "How's my baby girl?"
"I can't wait to go to the ice rink!" she squealed with excitement.
"Oh, me too, baby. Do you have your skates ready?"
"Umm, I think they're upstairs."
"Then go fetch 'em!" releasing her from his embrace, you both watched as she sprinted towards the stairs.
“Remember what I said!” you said after her, but she was too eager to hear your reminder.
You turned your attention back to her father, who was still smiling goofily, his eyes fixed on the direction your daughter had gone.
"She's been talking about this all day," you said to him, your lips curving into a smile.
Eren turned to face you, his gaze lingering a bit too long on your features before he spoke. "Yeah, she's been wanting to go for some time now."
"Just keep an eye on her, please. You know how hyperactive she can get, just like-"
"Me?" Eren tried to hide his smile, but it was evident, causing you to roll your eyes.
"Yes, just like you," you replied, a hint of affection in your voice.
You stare at each other for a few moments, before Eren grabs his backpack and begins to rummage through it. “I, uh.. got you something.”
You adjoin your eyebrows in confusion, but then he clarifies. “For your birthday.”
“Eren, you shouldn’t ha-“
“I wanted to.” He declares with a tone that suggests there’s no point in fighting him about it. After he gets a tiny present box out of his backpack, he moves closer, handing it to you.
"Thanks." You smile timidly, trying to escape his gaze. After nervously opening the present, your eyes grow wide when you see it. “Oh my god, Eren..”
You put your hand against your mouth in awe of the golden necklace positioned in the little box. It’s a lock necklace in the shape of a heart, with your daughter’s picture right at the center of it.
“Eren, this is... it’s beautiful.” Your eyes are still large as you inspect the jewelry, “thank you, thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Eren casts a warm smile your way. You exchange glances with him, something you can’t quite decipher shining in his jewel eyes. “I was thinking-“
“I’m ready!” Your little bundle of joy appears in front of you, showcasing her pink glittery skates in her hand.
“Yeah?” Eren kneels next to her, giving a kiss on her puffy cheek. He looks at her, then at you, and then leans closer to your daughter’s ear, “Say, sweetheart.. don’t you think mommy should come with us, too?”
She doesn’t even waste a second, “Yes! Mommy, please come with us!”
You shake your head, “I can’t, sweetheart, I have work to do.”
“But it’s Saturday! Saturday is for fun!” Your daughter purses her upper lip, giving you the cutest little pout you’ve ever seen.
“She does have a point.” Eren nods his head. “Come on. I’ll be making pasta later.” He tilts his head the same way he does every time he tries to persuade you about something. And you hate that you’re debating it. It’s been four months since the last time you allowed yourself to spend time with Eren, and it was the same time you decided that it’d be best to co-parent instead of trying to fix your complicated relationship. He’d agreed to it, although it took him some time to understand what that actually meant. No more touching, kissing, spending nights together. It was hard for him, but with time, it seemed like he accepted it. Your kid was the most important thing for the both of you.
But even so, you could feel that there was still something. He was the father of your kid, and it didn’t help how amazing he was with her. Every time you saw them together, your heart would skip a beat. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad for your little girl. He did everything for her, helped her with school, taught her how to ride a bike, spent an enormous amount of time just playing with her and paying her attention. You were so grateful for that.
And you knew he still had a thing for you. He hadn’t gotten a new girlfriend even though women ogled him left and right, and when he would come to pick your kid up, he’d always talk to you, not being so smooth in trying to find out if you were dating someone or not.
Eren can see you’re still debating it, so he raises his arm in the air, “Everyone who wants mama to come, raise your hand.”
Your daughter follows suit, one tiny hand in the air, the other one holding onto Mr. Poodles’s hand. And you want to cry because this is the cutest image in the entire world.
“See, three against one.” Eren smirks your way, and of course, your cheeky daughter mimics it. That’s when you know, you’ve lost.
“Fine.” They both erupt into cheers, giving each other high fives. “Only for a little while, though.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
…..
The ice rink wasn’t as full as you’d expected for a Saturday, which was a welcome surprise. You couldn’t even remember the last time you went, but it was probably with Eren. He was the one that taught you, and then taught your little girl as well. It always amazed you how even though he was pretty impatient as a person, he was always so patient when it came to her... and to you, too. You really liked that about him.
You watched your daughter grab onto her father’s hand as they slid their skates across the rink, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart get full.
“Mommy! Come on!” She shouts to you, waving her little hand as Eren turns to look at you, a soft smile gracing his lips.
And if you really think about it, this is all you’ve ever wanted.
…..
“I should go.” You say as you gather your skates in one hand, watching as Eren helps your daughter undo hers. You’d been skating for the past two hours, and it was beginning to get cold, so after having spent the best time laughing and doing circles around the rink, with your bundle of joy holding you and Eren by your hands, you’d decided to call it a day.
“Don’t,” Eren basically jumps from the ground, his reaction surprising all three of you. Trying not to cringe from his sudden actions, he moves a bit closer, until you can faintly smell his cologne. “Please stay.”
You’d be lying if you said you expected the vulnerable tone those words came out with. He locked his gaze with yours, the pleading look in his eyes striking something deep inside your chest.
You still don’t say anything, so Eren tries again, “We’ll drive you afterwards. Right, sweetheart?” He turns to his daughter, who’s already giving you her irresistibly green puppy eyes.
“Please, mama. Mr. Poodles is gonna be sad if you leave.” She’s bringing the plush toy to her chest, her pointy chin resting on the animal’s head. They’re both really working you today.
You move your stare back to Eren’s, who looks like a little boy waiting for his parents to allow him something he really wants. You ignore the nestled feeling inside your chest, the one that seems to know why he’s acting this way. Finally, you sigh, tilting your head to catch your daughter’s expression again, “Well, I guess I can’t let Mr. Poodles be sad, now can I?”
…..
You hadn’t been to Eren’s new place ever since he left your shared apartment. You knew where it was because you’d often pick your daughter up from there, but you never felt comfortable enough to go in. Deep inside, you knew why you never wanted to. Not that you’d admit it to yourself or anyone else, but truth was, you were scared. Scared of accidentally bumping into a hook up, even though you knew he’d never allow that while your kid was there. But still, you were always on edge. You were afraid of him living the bachelor life now that you officially weren’t together, because as much as you wanted him to be happy, seeing your daughter’s father with another woman was something you weren’t sure you were ever going to be ready for.
But now, as you make your first step inside, you’re instantly washed with a sense of relief. The place isn’t big nor small, there’s just the right amount of space for a single dad whose kid comes over a couple of times a week. It’s tidy, there is no cereal on the table or alcohol bottles scattered around the shelves. There are a few plants positioned next to the window, their leaves as green as their owner’s eyes. You can even see the little cherry tomato tree you gave him as a gift after your third date—you’d made cherry tomato pasta that he absolutely loved, begging you for the recipe afterwards. Even though it was pretty simple, his reaction made you so happy, you gifted him the tree the next time you guys saw each other. You’d told him that whenever he wanted, you could make it for him with homemade tomatoes.
“Mommy, look what daddy and I drew!” Your daughter breaks your train of memories when she sprints towards the coffee table in the living room, grabbing what you suspect is the drawing, “Look! It’s us!”
She proudly presents the painting to you, smiling from ear to ear. You crouch down next to her, examining what you presume is all three of you holding each other by the hand, with wide smiles drawn on your faces. You can’t help but grin.
“Oh wow, you’re quite the artist, aren’t you?”
“Daddy helped!” She goes to grab her father by the hand, and you exchange glances with his handsome face, emerald eyes shooting arrows right through your heart.
“I bet he did.” You look down at the picture again, memorizing every little detail. How your hair is in your usual hairstyle, how Eren’s shirt is in his favorite green, how your daughter has a huge grin on her face, the same one she has on right now in front of you. And even when just looking at this drawing is enough to fill your heart with joy, you know that it’s not really similar to your real life. Because you and Eren.. you’re separated. You don’t take your kid for walks in the park together. You don’t go to the movies as a family. You don’t fall asleep in his arms after you’ve read your kid a bedtime story. The only time in the near past that you felt this way was today.. at the ice rink. It amazed you how life had the unimaginable gift of making you forget all the bad with just a little bit of good.
Eren notices the sudden sullen look on your face, so he quickly changes the subject, “All right girls, go sit yourselves down. I’m going to start dinner.”
…..
The sweet aroma of sizzling garlic fills the air of the kitchen. You’re seated opposite your little girl, who is now drawing a picture of a cat she’d seen outside the ice rink. It was her favourite animal, something she doesn’t keep away from you or Eren, giving not so subtle hints of what she would describe as the perfect birthday present.
“It smells really good.”
You say, trying to keep the conversation light and neutral. You're aware of the tension that underlies these simple domestic moments, but you're also conscious of the need to maintain a sense of normalcy for your daughter's sake.
Eren glances over his shoulder, offering you a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks. I'm making that cherry tomato pasta. Remember, the one you taught me?"
You nod, the memory bittersweet. "Yeah, I remember."
Your daughter, oblivious to the emotional undercurrents, chatters excitedly about the orange cat she’s drawing, her words filling the space with innocent energy. You listen to her, responding with the appropriate nods and laughs, but part of your attention remains on Eren. The ease with which he handles the kitchen utensils and the familiar way he moves around the space remind you of the times you cooked together, a pang of nostalgia hitting you as you watch.
The pasta is served, with Eren sitting down beside you. You take a bite, the flavors just as you remember, and you can't help but compliment Eren on his cooking. "You've got this down to a T," you say, a genuine smile touching your lips.
Eren looks pleased with the praise. "I had a good teacher," he replies, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he turns his attention back to your daughter, who is happily twirling pasta onto her fork.
“Do you like it, sweetheart?” He asks her, removing some stray hairs from her face so they don’t end up in her meal. The sight makes your heart swell.
“Best pasta ever!” She gives him a grin and Eren chuckles, pinching her on the nose.
“You’re the cutest kid ever.”
“Have to agree with that statement.” You chime in, smiling at them both.
“It’s no surprise. You made her.” 
Eren's comment catches you off guard, a compliment wrapped in a simple truth, and it brings a flush to your cheeks.
You give a soft laugh, brushing off the sentiment with a playful roll of your eyes, but inside, your heart feels a gentle tug. "Well, I had some help," you reply, acknowledging the role he's played not just in her creation, but in the person she's becoming.
Eren nods his head, attempting to conceal his smile, but it was futile. The warmth of the moment seems to hang in the air and the rest of the meal passes with ease, punctuated by laughter and the occasional playful banter. It's a reminder of the chemistry that once brought you together, still present in these small interactions. As you watch Eren interact with your daughter, his love for her evident in every gesture and word, you once again prove to yourself that choosing him as the father of your child was the right choice. Despite the separation, he remains a devoted father in every aspect, and that's something you can't help but respect.
After dinner, as Eren clears the table and insists on handling the dishes, you take the opportunity to spend some quiet time with your daughter, helping her with a puzzle she shows you, one that she’d started with her dad a week ago.
“You’re not ready for what I’m about to show you.” Eren’s voice carries a playful tone as he approaches, drying his hands on a dish towel. 
“What is it?” You turn to him, trying to ignore the way he’s rolled up his sleeves, his big, veiny hands on display.
“Just wait here.” He says with a grin, disappearing for a moment into another room. When he returns, he’s holding something behind his back, a knowing smile playing on his lips. You exchange a curious look with your daughter, who shrugs with an amused smile. Then with a flourish, Eren presents what looks like an album, one you instantly recognise when you read the title emblazoned across the cover. It's a photo album you both started when your daughter was born, filled with snapshots of her life, from her very first moments in this world.
You take it in your hands as if you’re holding the most precious thing in your life — because in a way, you are. The album is more than just a collection of photographs; it's a tangible chronicle of your daughter's journey, a narrative woven together by the love and care of her parents. You run your fingers over the title, the letters familiar and filled with a history that only you and Eren understand. 
“I haven’t seen this in forever.” You say, with a sort of awe in your voice as you flip the first page. There she was, your daughter, in her very first photograph, a tiny bundle swaddled in a hospital blanket. 
“Found it at my mom’s house.” Eren says as he settles on the living room couch beside you. You lean into the comfort of the cushions, the album resting on your lap, and as you turn the pages, you're enveloped by the warmth of the memories it holds.
Each photograph tells a story, and you're struck by the vividness of those early days, the emotions as fresh as if they were just yesterday. The sleep-deprived smiles, the first time your daughter grasped your finger, the countless expressions of wonder as she discovered the world around her—all are captured in these pages.
"It's amazing you found this," you say, looking over at Eren with gratitude. "I didn't even realize how much I missed it until now."
Eren nods, his gaze lingering on the images. "Yeah, I stumbled upon it while helping Mom with some cleaning. I figured we should have it here, where we can all look at it whenever we want."
The two of you continue to reminisce, sharing stories and laughter as your daughter, now more interested in the album than her puzzle, climbs onto the couch to join you. She points to a photo of herself as a toddler, her face painted with an expression of pure joy, and asks about the day it was taken.
"That was your second birthday," Eren explains, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "You had that little cake with the cartoon characters on it. You were so excited you barely let us cut it."
“Can I have the same one on my next birthday?” She asks with that childlike innocence that makes each question so endearing. 
"Of course, sweetheart," you reply, matching her enthusiasm. "We'll find a cake that makes you just as happy as that one did. Maybe we can even add some new decorations to make it extra special for this year."
Eren nods in agreement, always ready to make her birthday wishes come true. "We'll make it a great birthday," he assures her. "Maybe we can even look at some pictures together and pick out what you like best for the cake design."
Your daughter claps her hands excitedly, the prospect of planning her cake adding to the anticipation of her birthday, no matter that it was 5 months ahead. "Yay! I want it to be a surprise, though. I want to see it and be like, 'Wow!'"
You both laugh, charmed by her excitement and her desire for a surprise. "It'll be our little project," Eren tells her. "A big, happy birthday surprise."
The evening continues with a warm, gentle rhythm as you turn more pages of the album. Each photograph sparks a new conversation, a new story, or a fond recollection. And as the night progressed and the album came to an end, your daughter ended up falling asleep on your shoulder. 
Eren quietly gathers her in his arms and carries her to her bedroom, her head resting against his shoulder as he walks. You follow, watching the tender scene. The house was quiet, save for the soft sounds of your daughter's breathing and the faint creak of the floorboards underfoot.
Once in her room, Eren gently lays her down in her bed, taking care not to wake her. He pulls the covers up to her chin and tucks them around her snugly, ensuring she is comfortable and warm. You stay in the doorway, your heart full, observing this nightly ritual that never seems to lose its significance.
With the stealth and coordination of seasoned parents, you both retreat from the room, Eren turning off the light and closing the door just enough to leave a comforting sliver of light from the hallway. The two of you return to the living room, the silence a stark contrast to the laughter and storytelling that had filled it just a short while ago.
“It's been a good day," Eren says softly, his voice reflecting the peaceful atmosphere.
"Yeah, it really has," you agree, leaning against his kitchen counter.
Eren looks down at his feet, like he’s trying to find the proper words. "I wanted.. to say thank you. For tonight, for this," he gestures to the space around you, encompassing the warmth of the evening spent together, "for everything."
You offer him a soft smile, "I'm glad we did this," you reply. "It's important, for her."
And for us.
“She was really happy, wasn’t she?”
You nod, trying not to look him in the eyes. You felt.. vulnerable. You and him, alone, in this close proximity.. it hasn’t happened in a long time. And with the way your heart is beating, you know what you should do next, no matter if it is the last thing you want to do.
“I should get going. It’s getting late.” You tell him quietly, afraid of not waking your daughter up. 
“Wait,” he grabs your hand just before you begin to walk away. Eren's grip is gentle but firm, a silent plea for just a moment longer. You pause, turning back to face him and those beautiful green eyes of his. 
“Y/n, I…” he hesitates, searching for the right words, his eyes locked with yours. “I’ve missed you.” 
You feel a flutter in your chest, his words stirring emotions you've tried to keep at bay. Your mouth opens slightly, but words don’t find you.
His face contorts into a melancholic smile, “I barely functioned without you.”
The confession hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. You can see the sincerity in Eren's eyes, the raw honesty that he's allowing you to see. It's disarming, and for a moment, you're transported back to a time when the distance between you didn't exist.
You swallow hard, the flutter in your chest growing into a storm of emotions that you struggle to contain. Nonetheless, you try to keep the conversation light, letting out a low laugh.
“Seems like you’ve been doing fine.”
But Eren doesn’t buy that. He takes a few steps closer to you until you can smell his cologne.
“Yeah, well, I had to. Doesn’t mean you haven’t been on my mind the whole time.”
Eren's proximity and his familiar scent make your heart race, and the walls you've built to compartmentalize your feelings feel as though they're beginning to crumble. You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. The closeness is overwhelming, and you're reminded of the intimacy you once shared. It's a dangerous territory, and part of you wants to step back, to reestablish the boundaries that have kept you both grounded in your new reality.
“Eren, we’ve been through this-“
“I can’t be with anyone else.” He spits out, and you’re left speechless. His declaration cuts through the air, leaving a silence that feels both heavy and electric.
“And I’ve tried- fuck, I’ve really tried, but it doesn’t work. You’re my girl.”
Your stomach is doing somersaults. The intensity of Eren's confession sends your emotions into overdrive, and for a moment, you're caught in the eye of a storm that's been quietly brewing. His words, raw and unfiltered, resonate with a part of you that you've tried to keep hidden away, a part that still responds to him with a familiar pull.
“Eren, this isn’t right- things are fine now, for the first time in a long time. We’ve worked too hard for this, for where we are now.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” His eyes convey his apology, but you can see he’s been keeping this inside for way too long. “But I really don’t think I can ever imagine my life without you.”
“You won’t have to, we have a child-“
“Yes, I know.” It comes out a bit harsh, but he doesn’t mean for it to be. “But just the thought that you might end up with someone else.. it’s like a fucking tumor inside my brain.”
The rawness in Eren's voice strikes a chord within you, and you can't help but empathize with the pain he's expressing. It's clear that his feelings are genuine and that he's been wrestling with them for some time. Yet, despite the empathy you feel, you know that the health of your family dynamic is at stake.
“Eren.” You say softly but firmly, “We have a little kid together. I don’t want to screw her up like my parents did me. I want her to be happy.”
“Don’t you think she will be, though? All she does is ask me when I’m moving back. We’ve never fought in front of her. You know I’d never let that happen.”
“Yes, but we did fight a lot last time. I don’t want to live like that, like my-“
“Hey, we are not your parents, okay?” He cradles your face in his hands, and that’s when you realise there were tears forming in the corners of your eyes, “Stop thinking about them and just think about us.” 
You stay like that, looking up at him, his touch gentle and comforting.
“I’m so sorry about last time, believe me. I’ve learned from my mistakes. And I know it’s hard for you, but I’ll show you. All I want is for you and our baby to be happy.”
The warmth of Eren's hands on your face and the sincerity in his eyes make it hard to maintain the walls you've built to protect yourself. 
“I love you to death, y’know that, right?”
And then, it’s all over.
“Eren..“, you hiccup, crumbling into his arms, sobbing quietly as the emotional dam breaks. The stress of holding back, of trying to be strong and keep everything together, is suddenly too much. Eren's arms wrap around you, a sturdy presence in the midst of your vulnerability.
"I know, I know," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he holds you close. "I'm here. I've got you."
The comfort of his embrace allows you to let go, if only for a moment, of the fears and doubts that have been haunting you. In the safety of his arms, you allow yourself to feel the full extent of your emotions—the love, the hurt, the hope, and the uncertainty.
“There’s never going to be anyone else for me. Ever.” He whispers, “I’m willing to do the work. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
You feel the steady beat of his heart against your ear, a rhythm that once felt as familiar as your own. He loves you. He truly does, and you know that, you’ve always known. After a moment, he brings you back by the shoulders so he can look at your face.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Stop it.”
You try to hide yourself in your hands, but he catches them softly.
“It’s true. No one else compares, baby.” He brings his hands to your hips, and your heart skips a beat. “No one.” 
“Eren..”, you say his name softly, eyes glued to his pretty lips.
“Yeah?” He reciprocates your tone, and you’re sure he’s caught on the change of atmosphere. Of course he has, he’s the one who started it.
“I’ve missed you, too.” You encircle your arms around his neck, bringing him even closer.
“Shit, not as much as me.” He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, “It was like a part of me was gone. The only time I felt happy was when I was with our baby girl.. and when I’d see you.”
“I.. I didn’t know what to do. I thought this was the best decision, but.. I was so sad, Eren.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” He rubs soothing circles around your hips, “If I wasn’t such an idiot, this wouldn’t have happened.” 
You stay like that for a while before he catches your chin between his fingers, making your eyes meet. “Do you love me still?”
Even if you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t bring yourself to.
“.. Yes.”
You’d never seen him smile like that. It was the purest, most joyful smile you’ve ever seen on a person. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling your face closer until your lips meet, the kiss soft but passionate, one that sends butterflies across your whole being, one that you’ve dreamed about for the past 5 months. 
When the kiss ends, his gaze rests on your face, “Then..”, he removes a strand of hair behind your ear, “if you still trust me, give us another chance, Y/n.”
You’re embarrassed by how aroused you feel in this moment, with his body pressed against yours, faces inches away. 
“Kiss me again.” You whisper before pulling him to you again, this time taking the lead, your hands leading his to your lower back, signaling for him to pick you up. Eren doesn’t need an explanation with words, he knows exactly what you want. And even though he wants it more than anything in the world right now, he still knows that he needs to be cautious, to ensure that this is what you truly want and not just a momentary lapse driven by old feelings and the intimacy of the moment.
He looks into your eyes, searching for confirmation, for the certainty that this step is one you both want to take. "Are you sure?" he asks quietly, his voice a mix of desire and concern. The last thing he wants is to rush you or make a decision that could complicate the fragile progress you've been making.
"Yes," you reply, your voice steady, eyes locked with his. There's a clarity in your decision, a conscious choice that speaks to the connection you still share. You're aware of the significance of this moment, of the potential it has to either rekindle something beautiful or to reignite past pains. But right now, you're choosing to focus on the present, on the longing you feel, and the man before you who still holds your heart.
“Take me to bed, Eren. Please.”
With your affirmation, Eren gently lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he supports you with strong arms. The kiss deepens, fueled by longing and a profound familiarity that has never truly faded. It's a dance of lips and breath, a silent conversation that speaks volumes about the love and tension that have always characterized your relationship.
Eren carries you with a tenderness that belies his strength, each step towards the bedroom measured and deliberate. The world outside this moment—the doubts, the history, the fears—falls away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable pull that has always existed between you.
As he lays you down on the bed, there's a reverence in his touch, a silent promise to cherish and respect the trust you're placing in him. He kisses your lips, your cheeks, your chin, and each kiss is a wordless vow, a gentle affirmation of his love for you. Eren's lips move with a purpose, tracing a path of passion across your neck, your soft breaths an indication that he’s on the right path. When he reaches the buttons of your shirt, his eyes meet yours again, a silent question lingering in them, seeking permission to continue. You nod slightly, watching as he undoes each button slowly. When he realises you’re not wearing a bra, he lets out a low groan before taking a nipple inside his mouth. You moan, his expert tongue drawing circles around the nub, making you feel a warmth at the pit of your stomach. His fingers go to the other breast, squeezing it not too gently, something you understand given the fact he hasn’t touched you in more than five months. 
“You have the most perfect tits.” The comment pulls a soft giggle out of you, one that disappears the moment his palm lands on your clothed heat. Now he’s the one smiling, his tongue still working your sensitive nipples. He knew you loved it when he played with your breasts.
When he decides to keep going down, he lets go of your tit with a bop, then kisses down your navel, paying attention to every part of your unclothed body.
“I’ve thought about this every day.” A kiss. “Every night.” A lick. “Every fucking hour you weren’t with me.” A suckle.
Your moans echo through the bedroom as Eren undoes the belt on your jeans, chuckling when your impatient self lifts your hips to help him remove the garments more easily. He does as you wish, throwing your jeans onto the floor, cursing when he sees your white panties are soaked with your essence.
“It’s been so long, huh, baby?” He draws soothing circles around your clothed clit, “You missed me here?” 
“Yes, yes,” you’re restless, moving against his hand, trying to bring yourself more pleasure. “Please, Eren, please, I can’t wait any longer.”
“You won’t have to, baby, I promise.” And even if he didn’t, his erection was beginning to feel more painful than pleasurable. He needed to be inside you.
“I have to make you cum first, though.” He says firmly, “I need you to cum on my tongue.”
“No, just- please, can we do that later? I just, I need-“
“No.” And then you feel his tongue on your clit, and you have to put your hands against your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loudly. He’s always been so, so good at eating you out, always taking his time with it, until you were creaming inside his mouth, trying to get away from him from how sensitive he’d made you after cumming so many times. 
When he pushes his middle finger in, you start losing your mind. 
“Oh fuck, you’re drenched. Do you want another one?” 
He was such a good fucking talker, too. 
“Do it, do it, please-“
And that, he did, moving them in and out of you, then spitting on his other hand so it could go up to your breast and rub around your nipple. The combination, needless to say, makes you cum within seconds. 
Your whole body tenses as you let out a strained moan of his name, the strength of your orgasm leaving you completely breathless. It’s the kind of orgasm you feel on your fingertips, the type that makes every touch to your body electrifying.  
“I’m sorry, baby, I just couldn’t help it.” You faintly hear Eren’s voice, accompanied by the sound of clothes rustling that you believe are his. When you finally have the strength to look down, you see his beautiful, naked body before you, his cock finally free from its contentment. It’s a sight for sore eyes, and yours sure were that. His mouth shines with your liquids, and you don’t know why you’re blushing, as if you didn’t have this man’s child. He smiles down at you before he starts rubbing his tip at your entrance, hissing from how wet you are.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says, so gently, as if he’s not about to rock your whole world. “It hurt missing you so much.”
You want to kiss him in that moment, tell him it’s going to be fine, that you still love him, but you’re deprived of that opportunity when he pushes in, stretching your walls because of how big he is. Even though you were prepped, it still stung a little, and you think Eren knows because his strokes are slow and gentle, easing his way inside you.
“You feel amazing.” He whispers as he brings himself down to give you a sloppy kiss, your moans synchronising as he moves inside you. Your hands roam around his strong back, unconsciously pulling him down so you can feel him deeper.
“You want it harder, baby?” He asks between kisses, and you nod frantically, like it’s the only thing you will ever want in your life. When he begins to fuck you in a hastier pace, filling you up to the brim, he has to put his palm in front of your mouth so you don’t wake your sleeping daughter up.
“Shh, I know, I feel it too,” he has a hard time controlling himself as well, your pussy sucking him in so deliciously, he thinks he can stay like this forever. “Look at your tits bouncing. Just- if you could see yourself right now. You’re unreal.”
His words go to one place and one place only, making it even more pleasurable when he hits your spot over and over again.
“Rub your clit.” He instructs, sounding more and more out of breath. “I want you to cum with me.”
You do as you’re told, your fingers working on your sensitive bud as Eren stands back on his knees, his abs flexing with every move of his hips. He was becoming sloppier, like he was losing control of his rhythm, his fingers plunged into the fat of your ass as he moved you onto his dick. 
“Rub them faster.” He groans, “I’m so fucking close.”
“Oh, god!” Your body bounces on the mattress as you feel the nearing rush of your second orgasm approaching. “It’s coming, I’m- oh fuck, I’m gonna-“
“Me too, shit, shit, I love you,”, he fucks you through both your orgasms, lips swallowing your desperate moans, with a little tear rolling down your face from all the stimulation and his confession. No matter how many times you heard it, it still pulled an emotional reaction out of you.
When Eren’s hips come to a halt, he doesn’t pull out immediately, choosing to stay close to you and pepper your neck and shoulders with open-mouthed kisses. You’re spent, trying to catch your non-existing breath as your hand rubs gentle circles around your lover’s back. 
“I still can’t believe this happened.”
You smile against his ruffled hair, “Well, you better believe it because you just fucked the shit out of me.”
Your laughters fill the bedroom air, making the atmosphere lighter after the emotional rollercoaster that was the past hour. Eren cradles your face in his hands, and you just can’t imagine being any less happy than you are in this moment, “I’m never, ever letting you go again. Understand?” His voice is firm yet filled with a warmth that resonates with every beat of your heart.
You gaze into Eren's eyes, seeing the determination and love that shine back at you. His declaration, so full of certainty, wraps around you like a comforting embrace.
"I wouldn’t want you to," you reply, reaching your hand up to caress his cheek. "But we have to promise each other something, Eren. We have to promise that we'll communicate, be honest, and work through things together. No running, no hiding—just us, facing everything as a team."
Eren nods, the seriousness of your words not lost on him. "I told you, I’ll do whatever it takes.", and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he means it.
You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a seal to the vows you've just exchanged. It's a kiss that speaks of new beginnings, of forgiveness, and of the love that has weathered the storm.
Eren nestles his head against your chest, finding solace in the steady thrum of your heartbeat, while your fingers tenderly weave through his hair, caressing him with every affectionate stroke.
“What will we tell your mini-you?”
“That I slept on the couch. She’ll be so happy she won’t even care about anything else.”
You let out a chuckle, “That, she will be.”
And as you fall asleep in each others arms, the world outside fades into insignificance. The comfort of Eren's weight against you, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, and the softness of his hair beneath your fingertips are the only realities that matter. That will ever matter.
…..
A/N: I’m having a writer’s strike and this is what came out of it. It.. surely takes a turn lol. But what is love without a little angst😅 byeee
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 15 hours
Text
Shut Up and Kiss Me | Jeon Jungkook | Epilogue
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Summary: Jungkook let's you work on his second single 3D but although he's singing this to girls all over he reminds you that you're the only one he wants Pairing: Backup Dancer Reader x Idol Jungkook (f2l they're honestly crackheads I love them) Word Count: 4.7K~ (barely edited per usual lmao) Warnings: Explicit language and smuuttt (he's so hot ya'll I can't) a/n: Kay this took me ling enough to get out but I figured it was about time since the main story hit 1K notes!!! Like what??? Ya'll are actually insane! Thank you so much and I hope you like the epilogue as much as you liked the first part 🫣 p.s. This takes place partially during the 3D dance practice video so yeah I hope ya'll enjoy 🥰 Be sure to read Shut Up and Kiss Me first 💜
"Alright guys go ahead and take a break. Jungkook can you come here for a second?" the choreographer calls out.
"Y/n" Nari whispers, right in my ear scaring me half to death making me place my hand over my heart to ground myself. "Don't do that!" I whisper scream at her. "Not my fault you're staring girly I said your name like three times" she teases and I scoff before walking over to grab my water bottle.
"Am I not allowed to stare at my boyfriend?" I say cocking a brow at her after taking a drink of water. "You are but you also have to remember that your boyfriend is Jungkook and not everyone here knows that" she says, scolding me and bringing me back to reality.
"Hey" Jungkook says, jogging up to us. "What did he want?" I ask, nodding my head towards the head choreographer for this song. "Well..." he says rubbing the back of his neck. "Well what?" I ask, scared that theres something wrong.
"Well they wanted to tell me everyone is doing a great job and the formations are solid but..." he trails off again. "Jeon Jungkook if you trail off like that one more time I'm gonna have a heart attack now tell me what's wrong?" I scold, waiting for his answer.
"They said that we had good chemistry while we were dancing together" he starts off and I let out a breath, glad that it wasn't something major. "But maybe too much chemistry. They think it looks obvious that we're dating with the way we're interacting with each other verses the rest of the dancers" he says and grabs my water bottle out of my hand and starts chugging it nervously.
"Really?" I cringe, loving the fact that we show clear chemistry but also hating the fact that I haven't blended in like a background dancer should. "Yeah they kinda just told me to tone it down and asked me to tell you the same" he says, handing me my now empty water bottle, cringing as well at the notes that they had given.
"Well alright then I guess I'll try my best" I say, shaking my arms and legs real quick to physically shake off the pressure I had felt growing. "Yeah I will too" he says, nodding his head and smiling at my actions.
"What are you smiling at?" I ask, eyes narrowing, a playful scowl written all over my face. "You look cute when you're nervous" he compliments with a crooked smile and I roll my eyes, scoffing at his words.
Once I hear the choreographer call out to everyone to come back and I start to make my way over Jungkook grabs me by my wrist and pulls me back towards him making me fall on his chest. "What are yo-" I start but he kisses me right on the lips and dips me real quick causing all the dancers to gasp and cheer us on.
"Alright you two that's enough" the choreographer scold and Jungkook breaks the kiss and steadies me on my feet again. I take a deep breath, my breath literally being taken away from how sudden that was and how embarrassed I am on top of it.
He rests his forehead on mine and lets out a dry chuckle before I wack him on the bicep which happens to be on full display today with his white muscle shirt on. "Why did you do that?" I whisper scream to him, looking around at all the eyes that have started to trickle away from us and listen to the instructions for the next run through.
"Just because he said we couldn't show too much chemistry while we're dancing doesn't mean that we can't do it while we're not" he smirk, placing a kiss on the back of my hand before running over to the group that's gathered in the middle of the practice room.
I shake my head at him and make my way over on my own, wiping my lips to take away his messy saliva he left on them and when he sees me do so he pouts a bit before looking turning his attention to where it once was.
"What just happened?" Nari whispers when I walk up next to her. "Don't look at me, Jungkook did it. He said something about they said we were showing too much chemistry while dancing but we can when we're not. I don't know something like that" I mumble and she nods her head and goes quiet for a second to listen but breaks her silence again.
"You know all of us had to sign new NDAs today right?" she says and I turn to look at her, my brows scrunched together in confusion. "Really? But why didn't I have to?" I question and she laughs at the same time that the choreographer tells us to get in starting position.
"We signed them so that they made sure we would keep our mouths shut about you two" she winks and the two of us and two other of the girls line up behind Jungkook to get in formation, waiting for the music to start.
"You're kidding me right?" I whisper and she shakes her head, "Your name was on it and everything. They even highlighted it since you guys are the newest idol couple. Well a couple that includes an idol" she says, clarifying her wording unnecessarily.
"Okay I get it I get it" I say, and cover my face with both of my hands in embarrassment. No wonder everyone had been giving me weird looks today.
As Jungkook's voice blares through the speakers Nari and I compose ourselves and wait for our parts.
"I can't touch you through the phone" Jungkook starts, getting into his idol mindset and I get weak in the knees like I always do but take a deep breath and remember to maintain chemistry with him but not too much...
"When there's two dimensions..." he says and our eyes lock when we step into each other. 'He's so fucking hot' is the only thing I can process, my body on autopilot, following muscle memory and willing myself to stop thinking about him.
"So if you're ready, and if you let me" 'Trust me I've let him' I think, my mind wandering to the places I've let him- "See it, in motion, in 3D" he sings, his voice going in and out of my head as I follow the steps along with everyone else.
'Okay why don't I just focus on the other dancers? Yeah make sure our formations look well and our moves are in sync' I think to myself and go along with that.
"Body to body to body to body to body" comes through next and I push on his right shoulder while one of the others girls pushes on his left and I look at the way he's grabbing onto him, definitely a lot harder than she needs to me and I annoyingly take note of it.
"You give me brand new emotion, you got me drinkin' that potion" he says and I hold onto his shoulder while we all do this hip thrust thing. I don't know what the choreographer was thinking when he gave the girls this kind of a move but alright. Being next to him and holding onto his while he does it tho is um...well let's just say the flashbacks are a lot more vivid this time.
"I just wanna see you like that see you like that..." 'God I swear why did I start focusing on the other dancers? Now all I can think about are the girls and everything that goes along with this song and how Jungkook's voice and music dictates our every movement.
"'Cause you know how I like it girl" 'Yes Jungkook, I know how you like it, and you know how I like it. When is this song gonna be over? This is honestly some sick form of torture at this point. You know what, lemme just look at the staff, yeah the staff will be more or less harmless right?'.
When I look towards the staff though my eye catch Jungkook's in the mirror behind them and it takes everything in me to not stop dead in my tracks.
The look in his eyes is mesmerizing, promises of things we would never say aloud hidden behind that fiery stare and it brings me some form of comfort, knowing that although he's singing this song to women through out the world and with female dancers around him, I'm the only one he's got his eyes on. The one he's singing his song to.
I wonder if the reason he chose this song was because these might've been some of his thoughts and feeling for me when we weren't living in the same city, or weren't even on the same continent. Why do I have to keep on having these thoughts? I swear I'm just digging myself deeper.
"I had one girl, too boring" I hear Jack's voice come through and I roll my eyes, chancing a glare at Jungkook and I see him wince, remembering the scolding I gave him when he showed me the song for the first time.
"Am I not enough for you? Too boring?" I fumed. It was on a day when I had been feeling a little insecure to begin with and when he told me he had another song I had been excited to listen because he was excited to show me.
"Baby that Jack's verse, I swear I don't feel like that! You know I've loved you since I was little! I promise!" he pleads and I just end up giving him the silent treatment for the rest of the night but I let him cling to me and he apologized over and over again.
"We already asked him to rewrite his lyrics a few times and I felt bad asking him again" he says, placing his chin on my shoulder and arms wrapped around my waist, being positively attached to my hip.
I turn around to face him, still with his arms wrapped around my waist to make sure he's being honest with me.
"You sure you don't mean that?" I say, glaring up at him and he nods, the poutiest lips and the saddest doe eyes I've ever seen are granted to me along with his response. "Okay" I say, cupping his face and he closes his eyes leaning into my touch before I tap him twice on the cheek.
"Hey" he whines, scrunching his brows together, a new flavor of a pout on his face. "Just make sure that any more features you have on this album young man have to do with monogamy, you got that?" I say pointedly and he nods his head up and down violently.
"I promise! I'll make sure to tell the producers" he says and I hum in response, loving his panicked response. "Why couldn't his verse have been like Latto's?" I groan and try to walk away from him but he pulls me back.
"And what might you mean by that princess?" he says, taking on a whole new demeanor knowing exactly what I mean based off the explicit lyrics. "How they more or less kinda sorta are based off of a true story" I mumble, looking down at where he's pressed our bodies together and dying to get rid of these clothes already.
"Yeah? Which part? Maybe I should make sure it's completely based off of a true story hm?" he says, his hands slowly trailing his hands down from my waist grab my ass, pulling me even closer if possible.
I lean my head against his chest getting shy at the thought that he's keep his promise and he laughs at the cute gesture mixed with the explicit words that garnered this reaction.
"Is my girl getting embarrassed?" he taunts, placing a kiss on top of my head but still making no moves to take his hands off my ass. I whine and he laughs again and lets up, leaning back to try and catch my gaze.
"You know I love you right?" he asks and I hide my face even more, making sure he can't see how red it's gotten. I nod my head and mumble out a muffled 'love you too' but he's not satisfied by my answer and starts walking us backwards, the back of my knees hit the couch and as a result has me not so gracefully falling onto it.
"Since you're too embarrassed to say that you love me it guess I'll just have to make you scream it instead" he says leaving me biting my lip, my heart rate skyrocketing when he comes closer...
'So if you're ready, and if you let me, I wanna see it in motion in 3D' blares through the speaker one last time at the end of the song, all of the dancers going on with the choreography and Jungkook looking back at us, at me and he knows what's on my mind and smirks through the lyrics and I know I'm an absolute goner once we're alone together.
Why do all of these songs have to be so sexual? Every single time we're done with practice or he finishes up his own rehearsals it seems as though he can't wait to be alone with me. Not that I'm complaining but how can one man contain this much stamina.
When Latto said 'Seven days a week, Seven different sheets, Seven different angles I can be your fantasy' she really hit it right on the head.
'You know how I like it girl, 3D' finally closes out the song and everyone stops, panting in effort to catch our breaths can be heard throughout the room and a few of us dramatically fall to the floor in an effort to ground ourselves, including Jungkook.
"Alright everyone that's a wrap. We'll see you guys bright and early Monday morning with one last rehearsal before we fly out to film the music video. Thank you very much and get some rest because we've got a long week ahead of us" the choreographer says and we all clap for each other and get ready to grab our stuff to go.
Jungkook comes over and gives me a hand to help me up and I take it right away, not even having to put in any effort with him putting in all the work to get me back on my feet. "You done for the day?" I ask, seeing that look in his eye, knowing exactly what's bound to happen and as soon as he's about to open his mouth one of the staff members calls him over again.
"Meet me in my studio, this shouldn't take long" he whispers in my ear leaving me shuddering as he leaves me, not giving me even a second to answer before he's jogging over to said staff.
"I was gonna ask if you wanted to go home together but it looks like you've got other plans" Nari says, scaring me again for what is it the third time today? I look at her and she knows the answer already, rolling her eyes and placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Just don't get pregnant" she says, louder than I'd care to admit. "Nari!" I scold and she laughs, causing our little conversation to catch Jungkook's eye, granting me a wink in response but quickly switching back to a more professional demeanor.
"I'll see you later" she sings and I groan before picking up my dance bag and heading towards the locker rooms to shower. I'm thankful that they have these for us because I would hate to have to deal with being disgustingly sweaty just waiting for him to come back.
~~~~~
Once I finish up I make my way to Jungkook's studio where I see him sitting at his desk, hair still dripping a bit while he towel dries it a bit more.
"Thought I told you to wait here for me" he teases, draping the small towel around his neck before getting up to walk towards me, placing a hand on my waist and pulling me in to kiss him. I hum into the kiss, loving moments like these where we can openly be ourselves again.
"Didn't know how long they were gonna keep you so I took my time in there" referring to said shower and he kisses me again before taking my bag off my shoulder and throwing his towel in the little laundry basket by the door.
"Looks like you're gonna need another one soon though" he says, turning around and stalking towards me leaving me walking backwards until I stupidly back into his desk. "Is that a threat?" I ask, taking us back to that morning after.
"Thought by now you would know that I always keep my promises" he says and places his hand on my jaw, putting me at just the right angle to kiss me.
He starts slow, full of the longing and desire he had shown me when he was looking at me through that mirror and deepening the kiss, making me fall further and further into him.
Trailing my hands up his chest I bring them up to wrap my arm around his neck, trapping him against my lips while I use the other to run my fingers through his hair, making my nails drag along his scalp and pull at his locks just how he likes it leaving him groaning into the kiss.
"Tell me what you were thinking about during rehearsal" he says, pulling away from my lips before kissing me one last time and the trailing his lips down my neck. "I wasn't thinking about anything" I gasp when he bites down on my collarbone in response.
"Don't lie to me, I saw the way your eyes glossed over and how flustered you got when I finally caught your eye. Baby was having flashbacks wasn't she?" he teases, trailing his hands under the shirt I'm wearing which happens to be his.
I whimper when his hands cup my breasts, the warmth of his skin seeping through the pitiful excuse for a bra and he pinches one of my nipples as a punishment for not telling him the truth.
"I was thinking about you" I gasp, feeling him smiling against my skin before leaning back and pulling up my shirt a little, waiting for me to give him the go ahead by lifting up my arms which I do right away, used to having done this time and time again in his studio.
"Care to elaborate?" he asks cocking a brow at me, leaving me rubbing my thighs together giving him clear answers as to what I had been thinking of.
"Remembering that you know how I like it? Perhaps the champagne confetti you know you give me every time? Rain rain rain you can't fake it?" he says, trailing his hand down and pressing a finger against my center, already feeling how wet I am for him.
"Seems like she's already soaking wet isn't she" he says, trailing his hand up towards the drawstring on my sweats and tugging them as a plea to take them off. I hop off the desk and he immediately helps me out of them, smiling at the small wet stain that's been left on them before setting me up on his desk again, totally bare with only my bra on which is new and incredibly sheer him having just noticed since it's the last thing that's keeping me from being fully exposed.
I bring hands to my back to unclasp it but he tells me to leave it on. "It looks so pretty on you. Wanna fuck you in it" he growls into my ear before leaning back and ridding himself of his clothing and smashing his lips up against mine, having become even more needy if possible while scanning my body and taking off his clothes.
"Been thinking about this all day. Wish I could fuck you in here all the time. Can't even work properly in here. Just thinking about how I've fucked you everywhere in this room" he says, driving me to insanity while he drags his dick up and down my slit, making me dizzy from the stimulating but needing more to satiate this hunger he's built up in me.
"Jungkook please, do something" I plead, remembering the fact that this room is soundproof meaning I can be as loud as I want in here which is another reason why he loves having sex in here. He tells me he that sometimes he wishes it wasn't though. Says he wants the whole company to know how he makes good on his word and is fucking me right.
"Needy little thing now aren't you" he says, holding back his need to be buried balls deep in me in favor of making me beg some more. I scoot my hips forward and pull him closer in an effort to do it myself but he gives me absolutely no power over the situation.
"Gotta stretch you out" he mumbles against my lips and replaces his dick with his fingers, dragging it along my folds to get some of my slick on it to make it easier to slide in and after playing why clit a little and gaining breathy whimpers from me in response he slides a finger in, drawing circles along my clit in an effort to help me relax.
He does a quick job of it but makes sure to be gentle nonetheless while prepping me for him, needing to me inside me now. As a result he's soon pulling his fingers out of me and placing them in my mouth, distracting me from the fact that seconds later he's pushing into me, leaving me moaning around his fingers.
When I bite down on them from the surprise of him putting it in he hisses from feeling my walls clench around him along with the pain from the bite.
He pulls his fingers out of my mouth and places both hands on my hips and pull me towards him, slamming the rest of his length inside of me leaving me arching my back and choking out a sob.
He snaps his hips into me over and over again at a fast pace he only settles for in times where he's extremely needy or feeling a need to remind me of who I belong to. The first being the case for this situation.
"Shouldn't have let you work on this project" he grunts while his hands grip my hips even harder, dimpling my skin, bound to leave marks tomorrow.
"Drives me fucking insane seeing you move like that, you know that? Makes it so hard for me to not pop a boner right then and there. Fuck how did I get so lucky?" he growls in my ear, leaving me drowning in the sound of his voice, hearing all the thoughts he's been having this whole time.
"You're lucky I took a chance on the loner" I slur out leaving him slowing his pace so he could look at me properly. "Loner huh?" he smirks and I nod, smirking right back at him. He rolls his eyes and picks up the pace again, leaving me giggling at his reaction but soon I'm moaning his name with ever snap of his hips, all my coherent thought long gone when I'm close to tipping over.
"You've got a smart mouth on you today huh? Just begging to get ruined like always, my girl is never satisfied until she's begging for me to stop. Telling me it's too much. You're so fucking adorable when you cry like that. Fuck I wish I cou-" "Shut Up" I choke out, cutting him off by smashing my lips against his, not being able to handle his dirty mouth anymore.
Although I know it's almost impossible for someone to hear us I can't help but want to muffle my moans with his mouth when I cum, making his swallow all of them as his hips stutter and my orgasm triggers him leaving his slowing down, changing his pace to one that more lazy but just as deep, fucking us both through our highs before he pulls out making me whine as the loss of contact.
Maybe I am insatiable, maybe I'm completely lost in him. Not just because of who he is or what he does to me but just because he's him. Someone that I want to spend my life with and although I've felt like that for a long time I'm sure the freshly fucked mindset I have right now is the reason these feelings have come to the front again. 
He rests his forehead against mine and focuses on cleaning me up with a clean towel he had somehow gotten when I was lost in a daze and walks away, cleaning himself up quickly and throwing some sweats on.  
Once he's done and throws yet another towel in the basket he walks back over to me and kisses me. Over and over and over again whispering sweet nothings between every kiss and I swear I could never ask for someone more perfect in my entire life. 
"You okay?" he asks, pulling me off the desk and holding onto my hips, keeping me on my feet when my knees buckle once I make contact with the floor. "Yeah I'm, yeah I'm fine" I say, embarrassed by stumbling even though for the most part I always end up like this after we fuck. 
"Did a number on you huh?" he smirks, guiding me over to the couch to rest after having helped me into thankfully another fresh change of clothes I had in my dance bag with me. "Shut up" I grumble and flop down onto it, laying down and he chuckles before laying down and putting his full weight on top of me. 
I groan and hit him on the shoulders, hoping to get him off of me but he just laughs in response. "I swear you're trying to kill me" I say through labored breaths, but he thankfully alters his position so he's still on top of me but distributes some of his weight elsewhere. 
"No, I just love you that's all" he says, propping his chin on my chest and looking at me as if I hung the stars for him. "I love you too weirdo" I say, ruffling his hair when he pouts at me words, feigning offense.
 "First I'm a loner and now I'm a weirdo? You hurt me with your words" he whines, placing his hands on his chest right over where his heart is. "You are a weirdo" I say, sitting back up and cupping his face turning it towards me. "But you're my weirdo" I whisper, placing my forehead against his and rubbing my nose up against his, giving him eskimo kisses. 
"We need to get home" he says standing up and grabbing my hand to hoist me up as well. "Wait, why?" I ask, questioning his urgency and also getting a fluttering feeling when he call his place home as if we lived there together. 
"You're too cute to fuck just once today and I wanna spoil you" he says, kissing me and making me lose myself in him again. When he pulls away I laugh as I watch him clean up everything and grab both of our bags to carry out and when I try to reach to take mine from him he refuses. 
"Least I can do for my girl after that champagne confetti is carry her bag" he teases and drags me out of the studio before I'm able to scold him properly. "Jeon Jungkook you better watch yourself" I growl and he laughs, thoroughly pleased with himself. 
"I'd rather see you, in motion, in 3D" he says pulling me into the elevator and pressing G for garage while I push him against the wall once the doors close. "Feisty are we? Thought I took care of that back there" he taunts. 
"Just shut up and kiss me" I mumble against his lips and he switches roles, turning me around and pressing me against it instead. "You're gonna get yourself into trouble you know that?" he says between kisses, gripping onto my hips and pulling them flush up against his, showing me how hard he still is. 
"I counting on it" I say and we laugh before he kisses me breathless, the elevator taking us, down down down, each moment bringing us closer to my demise. Knowing tonight will leave me completely shattered, but luckily I've got him to pick up the pieces.
The End
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taniahylian · 3 days
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Sonetto: The most voilent character in the suitcase
No, this isn't a joke... well, it kinda is? But I also have proof that Sonetto is very violent and impulsive, despite also being the by-the-book righteous girl we know her to be.
First of all, in the epilogue, Sonetto and Regulus fight, and then Regulus falls to the ground, clutching her arm and saying it's broken. Now, we know she was just pretending, but Sonetto didn't know that, and what was her response?
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I mean... if your enemy is already on the ground, and seemingly injured, why ask her to fight you again??? Wtf Sonetto. Good thing Vertin had her own agenda and prevented further confrontation.
Then, in ch1, Sonetto and Sotheby are lost in the underground Laberynth of the Walden and then finally see a stage behind a brick wall. Sotheby even remarks it looks like there's a party outside. Sonetto's immediate response? She wants to blast the freaking wall.
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Again, she has to be stopped, this time by Sotheby, who reminds her that an explosion could hurt ppl and they shouldn't act so impulsively. Starting to see a pattern here?
Then, after Forget me Not delivers the "good news" and the gang escapes through the Laberynth, they run into another pair of Italians.
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Schneider is carrying Marian on her back and comforting her, not to mention that the two girls look very alike. Yet, when Sonetto sees this sight, she accuses her of being the one who had been torturing Marian and then, without waiting for an explanation, immediately attacks rather violently (the game even points it out).
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Granted, there are also instances where this violent side of Sonetto comes in handy, like all the times she fights the manus, but especially when she's told Vertin joined the enemy and Schneider died, and she responds by seeking vengace through combat.
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Schneider even remarks that Sonetto was rather fierce during the fight.
BUT we're not done yet with Sonetto's impulsiveness! In ch3 someone is following her around at the rehabilitation center and, after unsuccessfully trying to lose them, she grabs a trash bag and puts it on their head.
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Now, imo this was very reasonable and smart, since she didn't know who was following her. What was a bit more problematic however, is that she then proceeded to beat this individual, whose identity was still unknown to her btw, despite the fact that Matilda didn't attack her and was just trying to escape.
And finally... the one impulsive act that almost cost Sonetto her own life:
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She broke the vow of silence and attacked Arcana in the hall of truth despite the oath she made and the fact that Arcana didn't even try to get close to them; we just see her clapping and then putting a finger to her lips to indicate silence, yet Sonetto immediately casted a spell.
Now, I don't want to be too hard on her, I know this is what she was taught to do all her life, plus it's her nature as a protective doggo to act this way, but I do think it's something she should work on.
Plus, it's kinda hilarious that a character whose signature phrase is "may the peace be with us" is anything but peaceful, don't you think? XD
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ranchstoryblog · 1 day
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Ranch Story Community Q&A Volume 3: Igusa Matsuyama Returns!
Igusa Matsuyama, the legendary artist behind the Story of Seasons series since the original 1996 game has once again agreed to a Q&A featuring questions from fans from around the world! A big thank you to all the members of the community who helped make this possible.
Some aspects of the text have been altered to match localization people are familiar with. (Japanese names to English names, for example: Bokujou Monogatari (牧場物語) was formerly localized as Harvest Moon and is now localized as Story of Seasons, etc). Images were not part of the original text and have been added as a visual aid. Though we translated as many questions as we could, we did not include questions involving personal information or regarding unannounced releases. Please understand.
If you would like to read our original correspondence (in Japanese), that will be provided in a separate post.
Additional cosplay photo provided by Foxface from our community Discord.
Translations: @artycharmy (correspondence, outline) Editing and Clean-up: Jerome, @artycharmy, and @regularcelery
——— Anonymous asks: What is the relationship between Jamie and the Harvest Goddess?
Igusa Matsuyama: Jamie was treated as a fairy or spirit. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if there's any points that link them and the Goddess.
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Editor's note: the term Matsuyama uses is "妖精."
Tomato asks: I would like to ask about what their inspiration was for the outfits designs in the original release of harvest moon another wonderful life. Since I got reminded of the girl clothing brand Mezzo Piano when looking at the I love Kuma/I love bears outfit.
Igusa Matsuyama: I remember the only thing I thought of was using Spring-like colours! (All designs were made with seasonal colours In mind) When I knew that Daachan, who was planned to be used in a lot of events, wouldn't actually play a big role in the game, I put him on the T-Shirt so he could at least get some attention as a mascot-like existence.
Pansy asks: If you were able to create your own game for the Story of Seasons franchise, with no rules or limitations whatsoever, what do you think it might look like?
Igusa Mastuyama: Since I love dogs, I'd like to try making a Story of Seasons that's set in a world just full of dogs. Though that dream of mine probably won't come true.
Anonymous asks: The look of Story of Seasons has changed a lot over the years! What would you say is more challenging to create - simple designs, where you have to work with very little space, or complicated designs, where you have to consider many little details?
Igusa Matsuyama: A long time ago there were a lot of things you weren't able to replicate in video games. There were constraints for things like the number of colours and patterns for hair styles and clothes. It was difficult to work around those constraints, but at the same time a lot of fun. Nowadays, it's the complete opposite. Now we can design anything with hardly any constraints. And unlike a long time ago, now I'm asked to make more complicated designs, like patterns and decorations. However, if it's a big request, sometimes I run into quite a lot of trouble when designing. They each have had their own difficulties.
Anonymous asks: Hello, Matsuyama! Thank you for bringing the worlds of Bokujou Monogatari to life for many years. Your art has had a huge influence on me!
One of my favorite candidates is “Rock” from “A Wonderful Life.” I’d love to know any particular influences for his character design from 21 years ago, and his new design for the remake.
Igusa Matsuyama: I was told that he was a young, wannabe playboy, so I somehow ended up with that sort of design. For the remake, I made his clothes a little looser without changing his design, so he'd look even more playful. I, too, wanted to avoid changing him as much as I could as there are other people among the staff that also like the original for his “Rockness”. So, he got that makeover after everybody shared and checked their opinions with each other.
Jerome asks: On page 130 of the "Special Comic" manga there's artwork of Super Famicom characters that have never been printed anywhere else. Do you or Marvelous still have these? It would be great to see them in more detail in the future some time.
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Igusa Matsuyama: They're all characters that appeared in the SNES version of "Harvest Moon." Nina's parents, Ellen's mother, Ann's father, Maria's parents (The mayor couple). I'm sorry. My SNES illustrations have gone missing...
Raven Bloom, Ryan, and Moth ask: How did you feel when your designs for the men in A Wonderful Life were repurposed to be bachelors? What do you think of the changes made to the bachelors in the remake of A Wonderful Life? I miss the “Bruce Campbell” look Matthew used to have.
Igusa Matsuyama: Matthew (マシュー) is Masshu (マッシュ) in the Japanese A Wonderful Life (Editors note: Charmy made a careless mistake when translating the questions, sorry Matsuyama san 🫣) When I first heard this name, the first thing that came to mind was Evil Dead's protagonist, Ash. You're right. I designed him after Bruce Campbell. I still love Bruce Campbell today. When Wonderful Life was under production, I had heard they weren't going to make a girl version, so I designed him not as a love interest, but as a quirky character. Knowing that he'd appear in the remake as a marriage candidate, I redesigned him as a character that would be liked by many. I hope you can enjoy the game for its nostalgia, as well as for being a shiny, brand new release.
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Salmon Axe and Anonymous ask: I personally adore Doraemon x SOS game. Are you interested in working directly with or collaborating with other franchises in the future? And is there a series outside Story of Seasons you would like to work with now as a guest artist? (Could it be Pokemon?)
Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved Doraemon manga since I was a kid! Working as a guest artist? Hmm, I'm happier being the main illustrator, so nothing in particular comes to mind. I enjoy a lot of games in my free time, such as Fallout, Far Cry and Border Lands.
Anonymous asks: Even though we never see his face, was there ever a concept of how Woofio would look without his costume?
Igusa Matsuyama: I designed Woofio as the being that is Woofio, so there's no design of him without his costume.
Idris asks: Your style has upgraded a lot over the time to match the trends. Do you think you will ever go for an old school look (early HM) for a SoS game again? What do you think is the secret to your art’s charm?
Igusa Matsuyama: What I'm particular about when designing for Story of Seasons is making characters with head/body proportions and an atmosphere that go well with that release. First, I listen to the client's request then think of a design according to that. These days, game visuals have gotten fancier and fancier, so there's not many opportunities for characters with short proportions to make an appearance. To me, what's important when designing is "playfulness." More so than "pretty" or "cool" and such, I get attached to the character, have fun making the character. I find joy in character creation itself.
MacGyver asks: Yasuhiro Wada has shared some interesting stories about how chaotic the original game's development was. Is there anything interesting you remember from around that time? 
Igusa Matsuyama: Now it's a memory I can look back on and laugh about, but I'm not sure how much I can talk about it so please forgive me. If Wada hadn't been there back then, then "Harvest Moon" wouldn't have become a thing.
Toyberb and Anonymous ask: There’s a lot of different cow designs now, which is your favorite to draw?
Igusa Matsuyama: I've loved drawing animals since I was a kid, so I love all of the cows. Although the easiest one to draw is the cow with the big nose.
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Anonymous asks: Were there any games where you made designs for protagonists of genders that did not end up available to play as? (Like a girl protagonist for Save the Homeland/Hero of Leaf Valley or a nonbinary protagonist for any game before A Wonderful Life)
Igusa Matsuyama: There's so many designs that got scrapped, but as far as I recall, there's not really many where that character's setting itself was scrapped. (Excluding Thumbelina, mentioned below)
Koharu asks: Were there ever any character designs made for other older SNES characters like Ellen for 64? Some magazines had Marie with blue hair, like the SNES character, so it made me wonder if she (SNES Maria) was meant to also be there at some point.
Igusa Matsuyama: I'm not in the position to make settings or scenarios where characters from other games appear, so I can't say, but I like the idea of older characters making an appearance!
Amina/k0iisu asks: Hello! I really love Hiro’s design specifically. Could you tell me a few facts about him/his design that might not be well known information? Thank you so much! I love your art :D
Igusa Matsuyama: Thank you very much! Hiro is a future doctor, so I tried to make them look as much like a doctor as I could. Also, to make him look friendlier, I designed him as your average everyday boy you'd see in the neighbourhood. He doesn't have a flashy face or hairstyle, but he's one of my favourite designs, too. I wrote this in the guidebook too, but what I like about him is the Asian flair I added to his clothes and the spot of colour around his feet.
Bunbun asks: I'm excited for the Nendoroid that was announced of Claire! I hope there will be ones of HM64 designs too. Since you have a lot of figures on your blog, how does it feel to be able to add one of your own characters to your collection? Are there any of your other characters you hope will get figures of?
Igusa Matsuyama: A nendoroid of Claire! I'm looking forward to it too, but when is it going to be released? If it's possible, I'd like one of Woofio.
Editor's note: Preorders are open for Nendoroid Claire now!
Chickee asks: A purple-haired princess character was rumored to have existed in Harvest Moon 64, but she didn't make it to the published game. Did you create a design for this character?
Igusa Matsuyama: That's probably Princess Thumbelina. Wasn't she Incredibly small? What I designed didn't end up being used. Speaking of HM64 characters, I pushed for them to include a pet turtle, but in the end it only appeared as an ornament. For A Wonderful Life, I asked for a turtle to be included again and designed a tortoise with a scarf, but it didn't make it as a pet and appeared only as a wild turtle that walks around the pond. I'm waiting for the day they finally include a pet turtle in the game.
emery flower147 asks: omg  I saw the pics where the AWL girls are in a team and Muffy has a shotgun and stuff? Do you think any other characters would work in a cool team like that?
Igusa Matsuyama: For the Friends of Mineral Town guide book, I had the five girls, Popuri, Marie, Ran, Elly and Karen work hard as Harvest Sprites. Also, for the guide books, I drew Pete (The old male protagonist), Sarah (The GB version female protagonist), and Claire doing whatever I wanted them to. I don't know if you can call it cool or not, but it was fun being in charge of that.
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Ixur asks: A lot of the PoOT character designs for the regular villagers seem more popular than the marriage candidates in my region. Is that something that's been noticed by you/Marvelous in Japan? Lars, Clemens, Beth, and Misaki for example.
Igusa Matsuyama: Marvelous doesn't really talk about that sort of thing so I'm not sure if they're aware of it or not. I don't do social media so I'm also not sure which characters are popular. I'm happy as long as the characters are liked. The design on Lars’s shirt is modeled after my beloved dog, so I’d be especially happy if you like his shirt too.
Anonymous asks: What do you think about people cosplaying your designs?
Igusa Matsuyama: It makes me very happy! I'm no good at sewing, so I really admire people who can make their own clothes. It's an honour having the designs I made be made into real clothes, and I think it's great to have fun acting out the characters.
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Afro Fae asks: When creating designs for characters, how do you settle on a specific color palette? Do you take color meanings into account with a character's personality or do you go purely off of feeling?
Igusa Matsuyama: I keep in mind the overall colours the client asked for while designing. Sometimes I propose a new colour when I think there's one that fits better. I'm also careful when choosing colours and everyone's traits to make sure it's easy to tell which character is which when seen from a distance. However, in the cases of families and such, I do the opposite and give them all a common colour to give them a sense of kinship.
———
From all of us at Ranch Story, we'd like to thank Matsuyama from the bottom of our hearts for answering our questions again! Whether a fan has only just discovered the series or has grown up alongside it, so many people have loved these characters and worlds that Igusa Matsuyama brings to life, so it feels truly special to be able to have this opportunity. We'll end this article with Matsuyama's own words, as well as a parting gift.
Igusa Matsuyama: I'm so glad I could answer your questions again. I'm the one that should be saying thank you. It means the world to me knowing that everyone enjoys my illustrations! I added an illustration as thanks. I'll keep up the hard work!
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libby-for-life · 3 days
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I just had one of those 3am thoughts pop in my head.
What if we had a yandere hazbin hotel for adam oneshot pretty please
(No clue how this pops in my head, but it did, and I'm sorry if you don't have much to go off on)
The whole hotel yandere for Adam? Well, for this to work, it's going to be using my version of Adam. For anyone who hasn't read Adam Dies, in that story, he's s*xually abused by someone in Heaven. He hasn't got to the part where he's healed from that yet.
Adam laughed as his head popped up under the pile of blankets. The hotel was having a movie night and everyone was happy to join in. Even Alastor, though grumpy, was willing to join after Adam begged at him.
"Fine, little lamb. But don't think this is going to be a routine for me. I don't like movies."
Soon, everyone was cuddled around him. Lucifer was sitting in his lap, much to everyone's glares. Husk and Angel Dust were on either side of him, Charlie and Vaggie at his feet, and Niffty sitting on his shoulder. Alastor despised touch so he was more than content to sit on a nearby chair and sip an unknown substance out of a tea cup.
He smiled when he felt several wandering hands rub him affectionately. The residents were so friendly with him! He much preferred this then to what they were like before.
The movie was about some gangsters breaking into a bank. Not really Adam’s cup of tea, but he was still interested in the intricate workings of a gang.
It wasn't long before the movie was over and Adam had fallen asleep.
"Aw. Look who's sleepy~." Lucifer cooed, watching Adam’s head fall onto Angel Dust's shoulder. "Must have had a tough day." The spider commented, smiling gently at the sleeping lamb.
"Yeah, the lamb is cute like this," Husk grumbled but his smile said otherwise.
"Of course, my dear."
"You did grab...him, right?" Charlie asked Alastor in a strange tone. It sounded too foreboding for the usual cheerful girl.
Everyone looked at her with a similar expression. The new resident, Larz, had been constantly flirting with Adam. When he first came, everyone was on different levels of enthusiasm. Charlie was happy that the hotel had a new resident, especially after Pentiouse died. But then, Larz had set his sights on Adam and that set everyone's hackles off. Everyone in the hotel would glare at the demon who would brazenly touch Adam despite how uncomfortable it made the lamb demon.
The last straw was when that demon tried to kiss Adam making the lamb demon break down and cry. The poor thing was still too traumatized to have that kind of relationship.
It was time for Larz to go. Alastor whisked him to the Hotel's dungeons and they told Adam that Larz would no longer be joining the hotel.
Adam looked relieved and sad at the same time. "I didn't mean to run him off..." He looked at Charlie with his big gold eyes and it made her heart melt. He was so pretty.
"You didn't run him off, Adam," Vaggie said with a smile that Adam returned hesitantly. "He left on his own. He was never serious about redemption to begin with."
"Besides," Alastor said. "That boy didn't know the meaning of 'no.'"
Before Adam could ask any more questions, Niffty suggested a movie night and that's where they were at this moment.
Everyone gave the sleeping demon a loving obsessed look.
Adam was theirs. It seemed Larz would need a reminder of that before they silenced him. Permanently.
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ineffablelunatics · 3 days
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The Good Place and Crowley
A while ago, someone sent an ask to Gaiman. It went as follows, “In the book, ‘Golden Girls’ was Crowley’s favorite TV show. Is that slo TV Crowley’s favorite or does he have a current TV show that he prefers?” He answered, “I think he’d love the ‘The Good Place.’”
The Good Place is one of my favorite shows. I completely understand why Crowley would like it. It has some of the best debates of the philosophy and ethics of modern day society including the afterlife. It argues that people should not be defined as good and bad. It shows that people can improve. It tells us why and how they improve.
There’s two things about Crowley that really connect him to these thoughts. 1. Crowley does not like to be defined as good(or nice). Though we haven’t really seen that include bad, I would assume that it would be the similar thought. It also might have something to do with Aziraphale saying those things specifically, but that’s another post. 2. That people are not defined by what happened to them, and that means that anyone can improve.
Crowley fell from Heaven. He fell from grace which made him demon which means that for all intents and purposes, he should be evil. But he isn’t. Crowley doesn’t ever really commit truly evil acts. Any truly evil act that Hell thinks Crowley committed, humans committed. Crowley just took the credit. Crowley likes the thought that people can change. In Hell, he sees tons of people who are awful, but he also sees people who just made some mistakes. He sees demons who are like him who don’t find joy in treating people terribly. He’s seen angels causing harm happily, but others giving away joy like lollipops.
Those two things are fundamental in the show, The Good Place. I would argue Good Omens as well. If Adam had always been treated like he was evil, he probably would have never had friends who he genuinely cared about so much so that their fear pulled him out of his power drunken state. If Aziraphale had assumed the snake was evil(if he even saw him lol), then smited him, where would Crowley and humanity be? The demon with the imagination burned to ash and humanity living with almost decision-less whilst tucked neatly within Eden’s walls. If people couldn’t improve then Shadwell would have never been able to put aside his fears and foolishness so that he could love Madame Tracy and show it. Gabriel and Beelzebub would still be planning Armageddon 2.0 if they hadn’t moved on and fell in love instead.
The Good Place reminds us of the things time and time again. Each of the four main characters get reset, and every time, in the right circumstances, they always become better people. They are also never really defined as good and bad either. At times, others try to define Eleanor as a bad person, but every time, she reminds them that, yes, maybe, she shouldn’t be in the Good Place, but at the very least, she should be in her very own Middle Place. Every time, Chidi teaches her how to become a better person(which only works, because she wants to be one) and in the process, he becomes one too. Just like Gabriel and Beelzebub.
This was way longer than I expected it to be, but here are some quotes from The Good Place and where I think they would fit into Good Omens whether that be place and time or people and relationships.
“Sometimes, when you’re feeling helpless, the secret is to help someone else. Get out of your own head. Trust me. The next time someone asks for help, say yes.” This feels like the whole of S2, specially Aziraphale with Jim and then Maggie
“If you have bills to pay and shit to deal with you don;t have time or energy to become a better person.”  The Resurrectionists in 1827 with Elspeth and Wee Morag
“If there were an answer I could give you to how the universe works, it wouldn’t;t be special. It would just be machinery fulfilling its cosmic design. It would just be a big, dumb food processor. But since nothing seems to make sense, when find something or someone that does, it’s euphoria.” All the couples in GO, but that quote right there seems to be how Crowley and Aziraphale has been holding on for so long
“I guess all I can do is embrace the pandemonium find happiness in the unique insanity of being here, now.” Nina specially during The Ball
“People improve when they get external love and support. How can we hold it against them when they don’t?” Beelzebub and Gabriel
“We have no plan. No one’s coming to save us. So... I’m going to do it.” Aziraphale(specifically him at the end of S2 in my opinion)but also just everybody in S1 with Anathema, Agnus, the Them, Aziraphale and Crowley, just all trying their best
“If soulmates do exist, they’re not found. They’re made. People meet. They get a good feeling, and they get to work building a relationship.” All the couples, but especially Aziraphale and Crowley with the Agreement, they were working on their relationship before they knew they were even working on their relationship
“What matters isn’t if people are good or bad. What matters is if people are trying to be better today than they were yesterday. You asked me where my hope comes from? That’s my answer.” Crowley, because deep down, at the end of the line, we know that he’s an optimist
*reminder that all of this is my opinion, if there’s anymore quotes you would like to add, please do, some of the information might be incorrect
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delulustateofmind · 20 hours
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Married to the Lord of Bloodshed (One-shot)
A/N: OMG! Thank you all for so much love on the Azriel one. I am literally SHOCKED. This one is for Cassian, made for fun because he reminds me so much of my husband. This one and the Azriel one are somewhat based on true stories!
**fair warning: it is unedited, like a rough draft like the last one as I am working on both the series as well. Just had a lot of fun with it!**
Summary: collections of being married to Cassian! Married for fifty years :) 
Word count: 1.6k
triggers: Mentions of intimacy, lots of pet names-like LOTS, that's about it!
***
You, an unlikely match, found yourself married to the formidable Illyrian warrior, Cassian, general of the Night Court. Fifty years of a beautiful marriage under your belt. Meeting at a party that somehow left you both discovering you were mates. Cassian was a completely different male when he was around you compared to how he was at the Illyrian camps. 
Among your cherished moments together…
After a long day working as a healer for the court, your muscles tense. Cassian would very much enjoy rubbing out your sore muscles. You knew he did this to lead to other things.
As you would lay on the bed, flat on your back. Cassian lifts one of your legs to rest on his shoulder as he rubs your calf. With a mischievous smirk, he murmured, “Baby let me take care of you.” The feeling of his rough calloused hands rubbing out your sore muscles from standing all day. You couldn’t help but laugh, attempting to retract your leg from the ticklish sensation.
“Baby, that tickles,” Cassian smirks in response as he applies more pressure. “You think this tickles, I haven’t even started yet” he murmurs as he presses a thumb to your tight calf muscle as he rubs a knot out and notices your reaction as you cover your face. 
“How are your muscles looking? Still sore? Maybe you should take off a few days, you’ve been working really hard. I could stay with you and keep you company.” his gaze meets yours as his hand seems to have traveled to your thigh. 
“Well I’ve been going to this new workout studio before work in the mornings, it’s this new workout called pilates” a soft laugh escaping your lips as he reaches a more tense area in your thigh. His smirk fades a little as he looks at you. 
“You’ve been going to the gym before work? Baby, you work like hours on end. Are you trying to run that body of yours to the ground? It’s beautiful and deserves to be cared for” Cassian states as he leans closer to you pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I never complained about you working so much, but sometimes you worry me. Try to take it easy okay? Maybe we can have a relaxing weekend together, just us, maybe go to the river?” He smiles down at you as he pulls you closer to himself. You knew where this was leading, as soon as his hands moved across your thigh and onto your hips to pull you flush against him as he kissed your lips. “How about I make you feel good tonight, hm? I’ll be gentle” He smirks with a kiss.
***
However, one thing that really was a bummer was being married to a super health-conscious Illyrian. Going to the market was a challenge. Sure you enjoyed that your mate looked out for you. Picking the best fruits and vegetables to cook healthy delicious meals with. 
But sometimes a girl just wants two different types of cake and maybe some cookies. Your monthly was probably starting soon but the sugar cravings were at an all-time high. Yes, Cassian would obviously let you pick up one. Not two, no no, just one. He said too many sweets would burn you out…I mean he was right, but it still sucked to admit it. 
“Mamas, just pick one” Cassian chuckled as he carried the bags of food. Looking at you with a smile as you stood there for the past twenty minutes. Carefully. Picking out the one sweet treat you were allowed for the week. 
You pleaded to him as if you were begging for your life. “My love, it’s so hard, can’t we get the fancy cake and the cheesecake?” You shot him a look that even a puppy would fall for, almost begging for your mate to indulge in your cravings. Pointing at the beautifully decorated chocolate cake that sat right next to its best friend, the cheesecake with the pretty little strawberries sitting on top that just went into season. “I mean look they’re best friends, baby? It’s like you and Azriel, we can’t just break them up”
Cassian smirked looking at you, trying to put up a ‘no’ look for you but the male was weak. You knew he couldn’t say no to your cute pleading face. So the moment you looked up at him, he rolled his eyes.
“Fine. But only this, one time.” He teased with mock sternness, his voice low and playful “Only, because you brought up a compelling argument” 
“I have never loved you more than I have in this very moment, Pookie” You gave him a big smile as you motioned the baker over to box up both the chocolate cake and the cheesecake. 
Cassian was just going to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t say no to his wife’s charms. He looked at you and chuckled, not saying anything as you walked out of the store. Grabbing the bag from you and following you. Though he did make sure to give your ass a tiny pinch on the way out.
“Pookie? I swear you’re going to be the death of me some days, I have a reputation to uphold, you know!” he teased as he walked with you. You both had to pick up a few more items before heading home for the day…
***
Mornings were never your thing you despised mornings. You always opted for the afternoon or night shift when you had to work. Cassian on the other hand was a ray of sunshine in the mornings. Though, he never cared that you didn’t work out with him. Your mate just cared that you would at least move around a bit, whether that was doing yoga with Feyre or taking dance lessons over at the Rainbow. He trained you in self-defense when you first started dating. His wife needed to be able to protect herself at least. 
You unfortunately had the morning shift today. A grumpy walk on the way home, you could winnow home. But, you needed the walk to cool yourself down. A walk down the streets of Velaris led you to a new studio that had just opened with the word  ‘Zumba’ written on the glass.  You peeked in to find music flowing out and a bunch of what seemed like moms dancing. 
Sounds like a good time! 
There were two open spots for tonight. You signed both your and Cassian’s names onto the sign-up sheet. Though you hadn’t asked him yet, you were sure you could be convincing enough. 
Entering his office, you found Cassian engrossed in paperwork for the Illyrian camps. “Baby, my love, my sweet honey bear, snookums” you whispered in his ear as you leaned over his shoulder. Carefully not pressing weight down on his wings. 
A soft hum escaped his lips as he reached for your hand. Pressing a small kiss on your palm as he kept reading a document for supplies. “What is it my love” he murmured clearly not paying attention to you. 
“There’s this class going on tonight and I would really love you if you would join me,” you kissed his ear and then his neck. “Pretty please”
“Mm, what sort of class?” He hummed. Although Cassian would agree to anything for you, he couldn’t help but find your sweetness after work unusual, yet endearing. Usually, you were a snapping turtle, especially once you discover soon that he ate the last piece of cake while you were at work. 
“It’s like a workout class with live music, seems fun right? Please baby…pretty please my big strong Illyrian male that I love so much” you whined as you kissed his neck with peppered kisses. Use your other hand to rub his chest. 
“Yeah, we can go, let me get ready then” just the confirmation you needed. You pulled away from him and with a happy smile, just about to leave him to his paperwork. Before you knew it, Cassian had swept you off your feet, a playful gesture that spoke of what was to come when he carried you over his shoulder to your shared bedroom. 
****
Stepping into the ‘Zumba’ studio, Cassian realized that facing war and bloodshed paled in comparison to the challenge of dancing with a group of determined mothers on a Tuesday night. These females seemed as if they were ready for war. Strapped with their sweatbands and their workout clothes. Cassian was definitely out of place, a few of the fae women gave him curious glances as he stood in the back. The mirrors clearly show him towering over everyone, his massive wings were tucked close to his body, straining as if they sought freedom from the small studio. His small wife was beside him, grinning ear to ear as she looked up at him full of excitement. 
How could he refuse when she looked that happy?
As the class concluded, Cassian found himself drenched in sweat, a testament to the intensity of the workout. Sure, he was in perfect shape, he’s had about 500 years of training. Of course, he was a fit male. 
But this tortuous dance class had him wheezing and gasping for air while these moms did the cardio squats like it was nothing. A few of the moms even gave him some fist bumps, humbling the poor lord of bloodshed. 
Grabbing your hand as you both left the studio, a smile formed and tugged on his lips as he reluctantly said, “Mamas, I need one of those pinky drinks you love so much.” Wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked at you expecting to lead the way to your favorite cafe.
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rojacatmisa · 1 day
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Starting over in Madrid
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Holà, this is chapter 3. Not sure about the trigger warnings but I don't think it needs one. I think the way I want to tell my story works better by leaving some suspense. Let's say it's a slow burn and obviously and they will make out one day, so at a time there will be some explicit but not crude scenes.
Reminder : I'm french. Don't hesitate to tell me if there there's very strange sentences or things you don't get. Sorry I hope to get better by keeping writing.
Chapter 3 : Calmly panicking 
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"That one’s actually very good, Hayley !" The camera screen displayed the goalkeeper in the air, her jumping body suspended as she grabbed the ball in her gloves. Droplets of sweat nimbed her forehead and spred all around her. Her thick brows were frowned in the effort. In addition to her beauty, what made the photo stood out was the technically tricky to capture action of Misa s’moving body. 
Things were surprisingly going well at the Ciudad. Nothing had changed between Misa and I and as I was getting very fond of my job, I had commited for it to stay that way. We were having photo lessons almost every day after training sessions. We were occasionally joined by the northern girls Sofie, Freja and Caroline. But most of the time, it was the three of us that sat in a pitch corner, talking for hours until the staff would finally kicked us out of the stadium. 
"Thanks Nicky! I’m thinking about buying a camera, I love photography for real!." Boasted Hayley. 
"You should, teacher says you’re ready". Hayley has indeed proven herself an implicated student. She had applied my technical advices but she had also been willing to experiment on her own. As a result, she was showing she had a taste for moving models and lights effects. Sometimes she would take neat actions with sharp details, sometime she’d rather set the presets to create blurry scenes where the bodies outlines melted in the background. 
As to Misa… well Misa’s photos were Misa’s. She was having a hard time to concentrate and her taste level was really questionnable. She would put too much grain or contrast. Every shots were oddly framed. When I tried to guide her toward subtler artistic choices, she would say "Pero me gusta el efecto !" or "Vale Nicky, but I am the artist" with her now well known over the top manners. Misa was much: pretty, athletic, funny, goofy… and stubborn. She was doing everything at a hundred per cent, perhaps except listening.
So, I have been rather irritated when she sat on the grass, ostentatiously sulking because I had not compliment her own work. Hayley, of course, wasn’t helping. "Maria Isabel hasn’t done her homework but wants to be praised!". 
"I did but teacher doesn’t like me !" She moaned. 
"Maria Isabel should be in detention." I said calmly. 
"Por qué !? No !" She shot me an offended look and grumpily crossed her arms on her chest. 
"Porque no escuchas nada and teacher is fed up." I was clearly enjoying myself at teasing Misa with the most calm. 
"You don’t like my style, that’s all." She laid on her back, arms still crossed. Hayley walked over her, bent and angled the camera into her face and started taking pictures of the moody girl. "It’s because you don’t have one sweetie" She said. Misa opened her mouth wide, outraged. She rolled over on her belly, hiding her face from Hayley unceasing photoshoot. "Come on Misa! I’m sure you can do better, you’re not even trying!" 
"I may have one last idea to help Misa get it…"Both head turned to me." There is a photo exhibit at Matadero Art Center just now. Maybe we should give it a try. And Misa will find what she likes." 
"That would be great !" Said Hayley. She had stopped taking pictures and was now sat besides the goalkeeper. Misa moved to the side. "I already know what I like" she said frowning. We stared at her, eyebrows raised. "All right, we’ll go to your museo…". She sat up still pouting. "But before…" She stood up and reached out to me with an incredible speed. She easily heaved me in her arms and had me laying on my back before I got to know what was happening. "Misaaaa what the fuck ?!"
Misa, on all four over me, smirked and pined me to the ground with her strong hands. "Let’s switch roles ! Hayley come over and take some silly photos of Nicky for a change !" I was laughing hard and… getting aroused by Misa topping me. Her firms grasp and her weight were burying my hands into the grass. A naughty smile appeared on her beautiful face. "Let me go !" I shouted. I was breathing hard from struggle against her and from growing frankly excited. Hayley clicked madly on the camera trigger. She couldn’t see Misa’s penetrating gaze. Was it me or was she breathing harder too while keeping me lying down didn’t seem to cost her in the slightest? I closed my eyelid, too aware of the lens focused on me to look Misa in the eyes. Too turned on by everything that was going on… appart from the oppressing clicking noise and Hayley’s presence. 
"I think we’re good and that it will be ugly, I promise" I heard Hayley. I felt the pression of Misa’s hands disappeared. I opened my eyes to find Misa had straighten up. Her legs on each side of my waist, she was peering down at me intensely. "I think you deserved that" she said, satisfied. 
"I don’t think I deserved that much" I responded, catching my breath. 
"You two, go get a room it’s becoming embarrassing ! Cuidad is closing, we have to leave". I had almost forgotten Hayley. Her voice was taking me back to reality. We both smiled nervously. 
Misa got up, held out her hands to help me standing. As I took them she pulled me a bit too strongly, I lost balance and landed against her. My mouth touched the base of her neck only a second. She smelled a mix of sweat and perfume. She steadied me in her arms an instant. "I just saved the teacher, does it mean I’m no longer in detention ?" She released me. She hadn’t lost her smirk. 
I composed myself again and took my authoritarian tone at once. "You are grounded for a month, both of you ! And in detention at the museum without question!"  
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***
I have called Angela on the evening. I have felt the urged to talk. Not especially about me. I just wanted to feel the connection with my best mate again but surely the conversation topic went on my new footballer friends. 
"… and you’ve given them photo lessons almost every day ? Wow, Nicky I didn’t know you had that kind of patience !" 
"How you would you know Angela, Madrid is changing me. I am a much more sensible and patiente personne." 
"Still hard to believe… Anyway, I’m glad you hang with them. I like this Hayley, fuck the clause I would have seen you getting together. She has a sensitive fiber like you and seems fun !"
"humm, no Hayley’s a friend." I was laying down in my bed, calling Angela for at least an hour and a half now. I pictured Hayley in my mind. In derry, she was the total package and the two of us were really getting along well. But as pretty as she was, I wasn’t attracted by her. I was, despite all my efforts, always caught up with my attraction to Misa. Her poor photographer skills and moody behavior were so endearing to me and I felt more and more charmed by the goalkeeper’s whole personality. 
"Nicky are you there ?" I didn’t realized I had stopped listening. 
"Sorry ? What ?" 
"I was saying I admire you, just being friend with such hotties ! I couldn’t !
"Yeah, incredible right ?! I closed my eyes, I was sure Angela had heard the nervousness of my tone.  
"Oh no Nicky !? Which one ?!" I was smiling. It felt good she knew me so well.
"You won’t believe me…" 
"Spit it out !"
"It’s Misa…" I was gazing at the celling, my absent smile widened as I spoke her name. 
"Misa?? But she seems… I mean you don’t seem to have a lot in common."
"I know, anyway I shouldn’t even think about it…"
"But you do… ?" 
I heavily sighed. Misa’s smirking face appeared in front of my eyes. "Yes… but I also think about the clause, the fact that I’m bound to it, that my working visa depends on this job that I love, and so is my lease…"
"Ok ok Nicky it’s alright, calm down. You’re finding a girl cute, what a big deal? You’re at least allowed that ! You are not doing anything wrong, you’re not doing anything at all, relax !" 
"You’re right" As usual, Angela had found the words to reassure me."But still, fucking clause !" I sweared. 
"Fucking clause…" echoed Angela. 
***
I received a message from Hayley on the morning before the exhibition visit. 
My family are paying me a surprise visit just now. They came from Sidney I had no idea !!! This is crazy sorry for the museum I really wanted to go but I’ll spend the day with them. Im so happy 
I answered it was ok and to enjoy her family time. Then I texted Misa. 
"Hayley’s family’s just showed up and she can’t come. Do you still wanna go ?"
Misa’s text bubble appeared and disappeared a few times leaving me wondering what answer I was wishing for. 
"Do I have the choice ? I thought it was my punishment…" 
I grined, loving her playful side. Or was she … flirting ? 
"You’re right but teacher would rather you go to your detention willingly." 
"huh teacher wants a lot. What else teacher wants from me ?" 
I gasped. She was flirting ! My mind ran wild, imagining the numerous things I craved from Misa. I breathed out deeply, tried to focus again as I pictured myself fiery kissing her. I had to take control of my brain again. I had to bury the surging wave of desire I felt at the simple idea of Misa wishing to give me what I wanted. 
"Teacher wants you to have a good time" was the most diplomatic and sober answer I could come up to. I quickly added "See you then" to put a stop to that dangerous conversation. 
"I’d say let’s see what’s going to happen. See you Nicky"
Wow, she was going for real ! How the hell was I going to survive the afternoon ?! 
***
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I was gulping down hard when I joined Misa at the entrance of Matadero Arts Center of Madrid. I felt so tensed when we hugged but Misa appeared to be her usual self. Once again, she gave no sign that something was going on between us and once again I wondered if I hadn’t misjudged her intentions. 
We headed inside. The center was formed by many huge bricked houses which happened to be old slaughterhouses. None of the previous gloomy functions of the place has remained, it was now very pleasant to walk in the large aisles between the red buildings. In the middle of the afternoon, the sun was knocking hard on our heads. Misa was looking all around us, her hand above her dazzled eyes. "It’s a shame I’ve never been there before, living all these years in Madrid" 
We reached the exhibition hall a few minutes later. I bought the tickets. Misa was following me closely. She clearly wasn’t in her element as we moved forward inside the vast hall. The exhibition was called "Deportes: fotografía en movimiento" and shown various approaches of taking picture of athletes. I was surprised to see Misa very focused. She looked at each photo, paused a long time when she seemed interested or intrigued by something. 
"Misa, look at this one" The framed picture was showing gymnasts doing incredible acrobatic tricks. "Look at the geometric composition, that's what I was trying to explain about framing." Misa shook her head with enthusiasm. "I think I get it now, yes. But I have found what I want to do." 
She took my hand and led me to a more hidden corner where another series of photos were displayed on the walls. "Wait, what ?" I let out. There were cats and dogs on every pictures, and even a baby pig. "They are the athlete’s pets" She said happily. She hasn’t let go of my hand. "I think I want to photograph animals, or nature." She came to face me with the cutest smile, and thought I had severe doubts this was going to help Misa progress technically, I replied "Yes! Ok! Let’s give a try on naturalistic photography!". 
She smiled more widely, her hand still in mine, and her fingers softly stroked my palm while she loosened her grip. I started to panic. Her lips has worn a more discreet smile as she was watching me unsurely. She took a step forward. I had to react quickly but I didn’t want her to feel rejected. 
"Come on, I’m taking you to the park along the river. There is plenty of birds and plants for you to shoot." I grasped her hand back to take us out of the hall and out of the prickly situation. 
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However, as we arrived at the park, I realized I had put myself in an even more perilous condition. The sun was setting. A light breeze was blowing in the trees. Birds were melodiously twitting nearby. An empty bench shield from the view was waiting for us at the end of a very lovely flowery path. I tried hard not to look at Misa. She was walking close to me, unusually quiet. I dared to take a look at her. She caught my side-eye and a shy smile appeared on her lips. What did I do? She was probably getting all wrong, imagining I had picked such a romantic place on purpose! 
We reached the oh so welcoming bench. None of us spoke as we sat. I starred at the distance. I was feeling my heart pounding hard in my chest. Misa was looking at her laps, timid all of a sudden. I had to say something. 
"You should try to shoot those flowers for a start" I tried as a diversion. "The red and bleu ones that look like the Barça kit. See, I’ve learnt about football." I added wanting to diminish the growing tension. "Oh no Barça please…" She rubbed a hand across her face. I had clearly said the wrong thing. 
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you" I put my hand on her shoulder. Her long hair was partially hiding her face. "Do… do you want to talk about it ?" I said hesitantly. She tensed. 
"You don’t know about the Clasico. We keep loosing against them every times and honestly, I’m used to it. It’s ok even though I’m doing my best but…" her voice trailed down as she took a deep breath. "Next Clasico is one week away and that’s the finale of the Copa de la Reina." She lifted her head to look me in the eyes. "I don’t know if I can take the pressure this time..." She was talking so openly to me. The fierce and funny goalkeeper was allowing her unsecured part to finally surface. And that was when I realized I cared for her. 
I took Misa into a hug. She sighed and buried her face in my neck. "You can do it Misa. I don’t know you for very long but I am certain that you can." She stayed there, her heavy breathing gently blowing my hair. "I really want to win!" She almost cried. "We keep doing better but we haven’t won any Spanish championship! Quiero ganar ostia!" She lifted her head again and I stopped hugging her. I was glad to see a frustrated grin back on her face. "You can do it! Hala Madrid! I feel part of the family now." I genuinely said to boost her up. She let out a soft laugh and ran her fingers through her hair. She took my hand again. "Gracias" she muttered. Her brown eyes found mine again. Her expression was so soft at this very moment. Her gaze went down to my mouth. I wanted to kiss her so bad. Her slightly parted lips quivered. My chest was about to explode as I was slowly moving my face closer to hers.
At that precise moment, a loud buzzing sound came from Misa s’pocket and had us both jump in fear. Misa straightened herself and took her phone out. I sled appart on the bench, breathing out a mix of relief and deep frustration. 
"Holà Jenni" Misa answered in a slightly irritated voice. "no, no conozco las noticias…" She rolled her eyes at me. I was too shaken to be amused by the situation. Misa and Jenni kept on talking on the phone. In fact, it was more like Misa was listening to an unstoppable Jenni. I wasn’t getting much of the quick flowing Spanish of Misa. Besides, I was once again buried deep in my thoughts. My heart and reason were battling heavily against each other. Misa was getting seriously annoyed the call wouldn’t finish. She was founding hard to even speak a world between the endless sentences of her best friend. She turned for me to read the word "Perdón!" on her lips several times as I scrolled mechanically on my phone. 
Minutes went by and night started to fall when Misa finally hung up. "I’m so sorry I should never have taken that call !" She sighted. I got up quickly "No prob. But it’s getting late, we should get going". Reason had won over heart for now. Or at least, chance had buy me time to really sort things out. Misa looked up at me, surprised. She hadn’t expected that. This time I didn’t dared to even take a glimpse at her. As I gave her no reaction, she let her head fall down in her hands. I heard her taking a deep breath before she finally stood up and started following me. 
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Lulled by the light swing of the train, a part of me had cooled down. An other part was going crazy for real. Misa was wanting me. A calm, almost pleasant panic have filled me entirely on the way home. 
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sad avery head canons
@ariscats requested this in a comment under my sad grayson hcs, and i'm more than happy to do it for my fav girl avery. trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and sexual assault. pls don't read if this might trigger you, and if you ever need help, there are helplines you can contact for free. family and friends are obviously also an option (if you'd rather talk to a stranger, you can always dm me (or whoever you feel comfortable with) <3). sorry if some of this doesn't make sense. i wrote this at 1 am. hope you enjoy<3.
avery used to pull out a guitar (cause i hc she can play the guitar) and sing songs for her mom when she was on her death bed
she now visits her mom's grave and does the same thing. she sings her mom's favorite songs on the verge of tears (if she isn't already crying).
avery used to wear an elastic band around her wrist and would snap it repeatedly until her wrist became sore and red (it didn't always make her stop though) when she was feeling overwhelmed or did smth she deemed wrong.
whenever avery would drive across bridges or anything really high up, she would think about jumping off of it.
she used to get her mom or libby to help her bake cookies that she would bring to school to try to get people to become her friend (it never worked)
she used to eat lunch in the back of the courtyard in a secluded place most of the time bc no one wanted to eat with her (until she met max obviously)
i'm currently rereading tig and i can't help but notice how uncomfortable she becomes when someone touches her so i hc drake or some other random creep sexually assaulted her once (or multiple times) and that's the reason why she seems so uncomfortable with physical touch.
she used to cry in her mom's arms wondering why she wasn't good enough for people to want to be her friend
when her and libby were struggling to get by and couldn't afford food, she would save the food for libby and not eat (she would tell her she ate at the diner she worked at but didn't)
when she realized, at the age of six, that her father was a piece of shit who didn't actually want her, she started trying to find faults in her to explain why this might be (she thought that if she could 'fix' herself, her father might want her)
she sometimes purposely gives herself papercuts when she feels really numb just to make herself feel something
when she would live in her car, she would sometimes continuously bash her head on the steering wheel wishing her life could be different.
when she was younger, to get people to like her, she would give them everything she had. she would do their homework for them, would cover for them when they wanted to cause trouble in the school, etc, but, in the end, it was always temporary
whenever she comes across someone who looks like sheffield grayson she freezes up in fear/shock. a little voice in her head tells her she's in danger and they'll hurt her.
after all of the almost-death experiences she's been through, she developed a panic disorder (this is already sort of confirmed) that she has to treat with pills.
she sometimes takes the haters' comments to heart (the comments about her weight, etc). she would start telling herself that skipping one meal wouldn't hurt. jameson noticed really early on though and stopped her before it became too severe.
she's convinced people would be better off without her and that she only causes pain and destruction everywhere she goes (bc of what happened with toby)
she actually hates getting drunk because it reminds her too much of her father. jameson started to notice that she would get really uncomfortable whenever he got drunk so he started to drink less. when he did drink though, he made sure it wasn't enough to get drunk.
because of everyone comparing her to emily, she's convinced herself that she's just jamie's second option and she'll never measure up (personality wise, looks wise, everything). jamie and her talked about it a lot and she's now less insecure.
she gets terrified when she hears noises at night bc she's convinces someone's there to hurt her
she forgives people so easily bc she desperately wants people to actually like her.
in the books she says she doesn't allow herself to want to want things bc it could potentially distract her/hurt her. i also think she doesn't allow herself to want things bc she doesn't think she deserves to want anything.
when she's in a stressful situation or she's having a panic attack, she'll start scratching her arms really roughly until they start to bleed to get herself to focus on anything other than the stress/panic.
the scratches on her arms became too obvious so she started scratching her sides instead.
she can't watch any tv shows with violence/war bc the loud sounds remind her too much of the shooting.
one of the reasons why she realized her father was a piece of shit was bc, once, he got way too drunk and slapped her. that was sort of like the catalyst for her.
bc she grew up so isolated, she's afraid of emotional and physical intimacy. she's afraid she'll start liking feeling loved/close to someone too much since she believes it'll never last (jamie showed her she was wrong)
i'm an averyjameson stan so don't take this the wrong way but avery was affected by jamie thinking of her as only a game way more than she lets on. even after they got together, she was paranoid that he had ulterior motives.
she blames herself whenever something goes wrong in the foundation or hawthorne house even when she had nothing to do with the problem.
she's extremely paranoid when it comes to locking her bedroom door and stuff like that bc of how often her privacy is invaded.
i said this in another post but, especially before she inherited the money, she would sometimes smoke weed to lessen the stress she felt for a little while.
she hates going to sleep bc her sleep is always invaded by horrendous nightmares. it became so bad she ended up in the hospital (jamie was absolutely terrified and made her promise to talk to him more).
she has this one stuffed animal that her mom gave her not long before she passed that she cries into whenever she feels like her life is going to shit.
before she inherited the money, she was actually near her breaking point. she was seriously considering if staying alive was actually worth it.
before she inherited the money, she used to count on her fingers how many people would miss her when she died to convince herself to stay alive (the number was never more than three). the fact that the number was so low made her feel even shittier and made her spiral.
her grief for her mom is so intense sometimes she can't get out of bed. she doesn't eat, sleep, drink water, etc. alisa had to contact a therapist/psychiatrist to help avery get out of bed.
to end on a brighter note, here's a happy avery head canon:
she used to dance all the time when she was younger. she would pull out her mom's phone, start playing some music, and jump around waving her tiny little arms everywhere whilst singing along. she would pretend she was a popstar. her mom would film her and send the videos to libby. the brothers have seen all of them bc libby showed them.
not proof read so i apologize for any spelling mistakes<3. again, pls contact someone/helpline if you ever need help. speaking from experience, things tend to get better. sending everyone lots of love (and my girl avery).
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bitchsister · 3 days
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i can’t stop thinking about gale and bucky dp’ing curtis. i’ve been so sad they never got to do this in eat your young. in my mind it’s exactly what they all need
You diiiiiirty rascal, you.
It took me three days to write this because I had to take a break here and there.
I’ve combined this ask with one I got very shortly after. (Same anon?? Hmmm!?!?! 👀👀👀)
I thought it just made sense to put them together.
THIS IS A LUCKY CHARMS AU PROMPT.
I did think about doing this as an EYY prompt, and could do that again later too if anon would like!! For me, it made sense to pair these two requests up with the LC AU instead of EYY.
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Also @swifty-fox is to blame for like half of this even though I planned to do it all before they said anything idc I’m blaming them still.
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don’t read if you’re not absolutely LOCKED IN for:
feminization of Curt, double penetration, crying, whining, getting a lil snotty over your boyfriends fucking you absolutely stupid, daddy is used once or twice, pet names like honey, darlin’, baby, Gale and Bucky adoring Curt like he created the universe even though he is Head Brat in Charge.
Reminder : This is Yoyo’s first time writing dp. She does not know what she is doing :-) ever :-)
Andiamo!
Curt was getting used to spending Bucky’s money — and he wasn’t shy about it, either.
In the beginning Curt used to send a text, at the very least, about a sweater he liked, or a journal he wanted from the coffee shop Gale frequented on his coffee and matcha runs for the two of them while they hammered away at case files and court hearings.
Those days were over, though.
A trip to the mall before going over to Bucky’s for the weekend would prove as much.
She’s goddamn beautiful, Bucky commented on an actress in the movie they watched the night before and for whatever reason, that had stuck with Curt.
He thought, in the back of his mind, if Bucky wanted to fuck a girl then he mind as well, but Curt would scamper around in a skirt he bought with Bucky’s money to taunt him for it first.
It was obnoxious, the skirt. The lace. The tule that ruffled the edges and the playboy crop top he bought.
He dressed himself in a fit of giggles, hardly able to look himself in the mirror once he was all finished so he instead trekked to Bucky’s study where he and Gale were thumbing through piles of law books to figure out if their tactics would even hold up in court.
“Hey, darlin’.” Bucky greeted the familiar noise of Curt entering the room without looking up from the book in front of him, but Gale had.
“Johnny,” Gale grumbled at the sight, his lungs squeezed dry of every ounce of oxygen left inside them. “Might wanna look at this.”
Curt stood proudly beside the window he usually did, a lollipop in his cheek and a joint in his hand as he bashfully turned his gaze toward the two of them, giving them that infamous “What?” As if he’d been wearing his usual cut offs and a baggy tee.
“What’s this?” Bucky murmured, sighing loudly as he sat back in his chair, leather squeaking beneath him.
“What’s what?”
“Curtis..”
Curt shrugged a singular shoulder and plopped down by the window, looking down at his collection of books and acting as if he could focus hard enough to pick one he’d pretend to read.
Bucky and Gale had been more the generous with their time these days — giving Curt all the attention he could ever want; fucking him pink, sweaty and sleepy enough so they could buy themselves a couple hours of uninterrupted silence to hammer in the last few nails of their work.
It was understood between the three of them their dynamics.
Curt was in the midst of his summer break and hardly had an interest in a summer job. Instead, he’d spend his days with Bucky and Gale going to dinner or getting fucked in the pool, in the tub, or over the island in the kitchen.
Others, he’d go out to the farm to visit his mother Ruthie. It was his own little getaway where he’d plant wild flowers and drive their little boat in the fresh spring water.
He loved Bucky, and he loved Gale, but all three of them knew their lives were on different paths.
That didn’t mean they weren’t meant to be — no.
If you were to ask Curt if he’d rather be doing anything else with his life, he’d say he’d rather die.
Bucky was so in love with Curt it sometimes made him feel ill and Gale just the same, though he repressed his feelings so far down into his gut that he was unsure he could bring it up without being sick.
It was too much to fathom, too much to think about.
So he didn’t.
Nobody did.
What was the point, when something like this could rock up into Bucky’s study without a forewarning or a text?
“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” Curt grinned, sitting the way he usually did but this time he was wearing a skirt with no underwear beneath it. Just crossed legs, and lips alternating between a cherry lollipop, a joint, and mouthing off as usual.
“C’mere.” Was all Gale had to say, his voice steady and his gaze locked on Curtis whose cheeks flushed pink. He liked when Gale used his voice, which he was getting so much better at as of late.
“Why?”
“‘Cause I said.”
Curt huffed and sat up slowly from where he’d been slouching, the book he’d been staring at clapped closed once he stood and flattened out the skirt that hiked further up with each step toward them.
At times, it was a hard balancing act, but Bucky never minded sharing with Gale and only Gale, who had never once complained about watching if he was put in such a position — however, he’d lately been so hands-on that it was hard to imagine himself sitting idly by while Bucky had all the fun.
“Where’d you get this?” Gale asked, reaching forward to tug at the skirt that Curt wore confidently, but seemed shy in. “Spending Daddy’s money again?”
Curt nodded slowly, slipping himself into Gales lap and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, joint held to Gales lips who reluctantly took a hit.
It was game over.
“He said he liked one of ‘em pretty actresses in that movie we watched last night.” Curt made himself comfortable in Gales lap, the joint between his teeth again as he hummed. “I think I’m prettier, so I thought I oughta show ‘em.”
His knees were scabbed from the farm and his shins bruised from drunken nights with his girlfriends at the college bars, who knew how to fucking put ‘em back.
A tomboy, through and through, but he looked so pretty this way.
Curt could pull off anything.
Bucky snorted anyway, nursing the whiskey he’d had lying around for hours now by his side as he watched Curt drape himself over Gale and feed him more smoke via his own lungs and mouth, “She’s conventionally attractive, Curt. Universally.” He waved his pen, “She wasn’t even wearing a skirt.”
Curt’s cheeks burned bright red, his thighs spread over Gales once he turned in his lap. No longer was he concerned about acting prudent, or modest. He was nothing of the sort. “You don’t think I look pretty?”
Both Gale and Bucky uttered out the loud hums in the very back of their throats; the ones Curt could recognize from anywhere and would know exactly what they meant. “Too fuckin’ pretty.” Bucky concluded in a whisper, watching Gale’s palms flatten over Curt’s mid-summer tanned thighs that already quivered with aching anticipation.
He’d gone and riled himself up more than he’d ever realized, but Bucky and Gale were not so far behind him. “Put him on the desk for me, Gale.” Bucky waved his fingers and Gale was quick to obey, just as eager to please as Curt could ever be.
He stayed behind Curt once he was sat upon Bucky’s desk, his chin resting on his shoulder to look down at his body — his pink nipples, his soft belly and the skirt that hardly covered his thighs and his cock that had began begging for any bit of attention.
“Wait,” Curt slapped his hand over Bucky’s chest to keep him at a close distance while his other pulled Gale closer, drawing him further into Bucky until they were face to face over the desk with Curtis between them. “Give Galey some lovin’.” He demanded, but his voice was soft and so sugary sweet.
It was only recently that Gale and Bucky had broke the third wall; sharing kisses, swapping spit or Curt’s cum they couldn’t bear the thought of tasting by themselves, always so eager to share with each other — Curt wasn’t shy about wanting to explore that need to share a bit deeper, pick and dig at the brains that have wanted to make such advances for years but never knew how.
Their kisses were sloppy, wet, uncoordinated but Curt relished in watching Gale learn how to he loved by a passionate man rather than the hand of a distracted woman who’d rather be doing anything else.
He watched them touch, kiss, lick, bite until he could hardly keep himself still. “Okay,” he whispered, shoving at their chests. “My turn now.”
“Sorry,” Bucky murmured through a chuckle once he’d pulled away from Gale who groaned at the sudden loss, his eyes cracking open to soak up the sight of Curt panting between them with his legs spread wider and waiting. “Galey tastes so much like you right now.”
Weed, cherry, sickly sweet.
Gale hadn’t even minded the fact that Bucky may or may not have been licking the saliva out of his mouth just because of said reason — all he cared was that he had the two of them, and always would.
The details hardly mattered.
Until whenever the day came that they did.
“Shouldn’t be tellin’ us what to do, anyway.” Gale grumbled as he sucked a little red mark into Curt’s collarbone from where he stood, gripping his thighs to spread them as Bucky pressed himself closer on his front side. “Look at yourself.”
Curt smirked once he lifted his thighs, his feet covered in thigh highs spread apart. “Yeah, look at me.” He sighed, as if Gale had made a valid point.
No, a year ago he never would have imagined himself in such a position, wearing a skirt while he spread his legs for two judicial professionals who’d both earned prestigious titles in their respectful fields — but there he was, and there he ought to stay, for as long as they’d have him.
“So, what’s the angle?” Bucky asked through a smirk as he pressed his palms to the back of Curt’s thighs, his knees drawn closer to his chest. “Exactly where did you think this would land you, Curtis?”
A grin was shot back at him once Curt had reached up to grip onto Gale’s biceps. “Mmm.. Somewhere like this.” He panted, his half-lit and almost forgotten about joint still dangling from his lips.
Both Gale and Bucky had rid themselves of their clothing faster than Curt could even register, his hands left briefly to palm between his legs and hike up further the pink skirt that hardly covered anything anymore. “I wanna try it again.” He blurted, his own needy little fingers already working to fuck himself open and get ahead of the process, which last time had failed so miserably.
Curt wanted so badly to feel both Gale and Bucky at the same time — and what better way to bring the three of them closer, he wondered.
No amount of lube or sweet talk could get Curt to relax, too riled up after he’d returned to Bucky’s for the weekend after boxing practice with a bloodied cheek from a misstep and sweat still damp in his hair. Too much adrenaline, still. Gale had rationed when he simply couldn’t fit. Please, no, Galey. Please, please, please. Keep trying. Curt had begged, though he was in tears from their efforts.
“Curt,” Gale whispered, already afraid just he could split him apart on his very own at times. “I don’t think it’s even possible.”
Curt wasn’t taking that for an answer and Bucky knew as much to be the truth, already warming lube between his fingers with a grin. “We can try.” John nodded, looking to Gale as to soothe him and his nerves. Despite how he may act at times, or how he may look, Curt was a big boy who could handle his own. “Second you start crying again is when we stop.”
It wasn’t on purpose — and it wasn’t so much the pain that had caused the tears, but the frustration he felt with his own body for not cooperating.
Thankfully, not a lick of adrenaline had hit his nervous system that day unless you considered the little bit he got from swiping Bucky’s card to buy knee highs, a skirt, and an overpriced playboy top.
Curt nodded in understanding nonetheless, his own fingers that desperately worked themselves between his cheeks replaced by Bucky’s instead — warm, thick, and so familiar. “Fuck,” a whimper dribbled from his lips once he was easily maneuvered to sit over Gales thighs again after he’d circled the desk.
He pressed his back into Gale’s chest, grinning up at him as he moaned through the joint that had finally put itself out. Gale had removed it to discard nearby in one of Bucky’s desk ashtrays littered only with the filters left from Curt’s morning and midday study or magazine flipping joints which had freed his lips to be kissed and bitten by Gale.
Curt gasped, his neck craned upward to catch the kisses Gale was showering upon him while Bucky worked himself into the little body that could already feel him in its belly, full just from one and eager to take on another. “Such a pretty baby,” Gale murmured breathily, holding Curt into position by the backside of his thighs, folded in half in his lap as Bucky slammed his hips into Curt’s ass. “Already so tight around Daddy, you’re too little to take two.”
“Uh-uh,” Curt argued, his cheeks burning red hot and his skin sticky with sweat already. “I can d— fuck,” he reached up again to grab onto Gale’s biceps, gazing at Bucky who was so full of love and adoration, looking at him the same way he did his expensive paintings. “I can do it.”
Bucky’s hips slowed then, watching intently at his cock as it disappeared with each careful thrust while Gales hung heavy and needy.
He nudged Gale upward carefully before he lined their cocks up together, stroking both as if they’d already merged into one somehow.
Their hips found a rhythm once Gale stood and held Curt to his chest by his thighs, Bucky being the anchor he latched onto once he was wedged between them, taking both of their cocks at once with a little encouragement and a ton of luck, just like he said he would, yet nobody could utter a word just yet besides the sputtering, whimpery mess Curt had suddenly become with the hem of his skirt pulled up and clenched between his teeth.
Though it was difficult, Gale and Bucky had made it a point to go slow.
“Fu- uuck,” Curt panted while Bucky cooed at him, the feeling of Gales cock so close and tight against his own and the familiar warmth of Curt around both of them was unlike anything he’d ever felt.
Like nothing he’d ever imagined.
“Look at you,” Bucky recognized the Curt in front of him, his jaw unhinged and his eyes glassy and trying so hard to focus, but hadn’t seen him quite this gone in some time. “You’re doin’ so good.”
Gale’s gaze had landed on Bucky again, needy and wanting and waiting as he huffed little breaths of oxygen from his lungs. “You should see Galey’s face, Curt. Makin’ him feel so fuckin’ good, honey.” Bucky pressed a few sloppy kisses to Gales lips that were starting to taste more like him again.
Spearmint, matcha, little wooden toothpicks.
“Takin’ us both like this.”
“You’re so fuckin’ sweet to us, Curtie.”
“Look at you, baby. Takin’ cock like you were born for it.”
A sight for sore eyes, the few little wet spatters on Curt’s belly from his own leaking cock caught Bucky’s attention. “Look how wet you are.”
Curt had bounced back and forth from panting and moaning to choking back little sobs that made his chest heave and shudder, cheeks splotchy, pink and covered in hot wet tears, nose stuffy and sniffling. “I-I told ya I could do it.” He hiccuped through what sounded to be a sob, but his expressions had shown not one bit of pain.
Both Gale and Bucky had remembered their deal earlier about the tears but this felt too fucking good to let go of, even despite the big fat stream that trickled down from Curt’s pretty blue eyes and to his chest once Gale had stripped him of his clothing, skirt and all. “Oh, sweet baby.” Bucky moaned, “Does that feel good?”
A wild string of yesyesyes’s was fucked out of him, his core rattling with each draw of oxygen back into his lungs that felt like they’d begun to bleed.
He felt so full of them, the sensation nestled deep into his belly — he couldn’t stop the wave of emotions that ripped right through him, whining and whimpering, hardly able to muster even a squeal through it all and so instead it came out in a continuous swirl of gentle weeping.
Dontstopdontstopdontstop, pleasepleaseplease, Curt wailed amidst the cacophony of beautiful skin against skin, thick, breathy moans, and more wet kisses shared between Gale and Bucky who were closer now than they’d ever been before, even including their college days.
Bucky licked into Curt’s mouth that simply couldn’t stay shut, and then Gale had leaned forward to do just the same.
By now, Bucky had learned Gales tell for how close he was to tipping right over the edge. “M’gonna — fuck -“ he mouthed at the dip in Curt’s shoulder, mostly tongue and so very gentle I’m-in-love-right-now-but-I’d-rather-die-than-admit-it kisses. “Gonna make me come, baby.” Gales voice had gone deeper than ever before, a low growl mixing with the same one Bucky had huffed back at him.
“Y’gonna be full of it, just like you wanted.”
Curt sobbed between them, but rocked his hips harder against the two, “Faster,” he begged, though he looked in no shape to be requesting such a thing. “Please — faster - please fuck me faster.”
He was in no mood for Gale or Bucky to scold him for bad manners.
A swirl of pretty pinks, yellows, blues and greens.
Tan skin, the smell of them, the sound of the fountain in the pool trickling outside the open window by his usual spot.
His body had hardly been his, then.
Used by Bucky and Gale beyond its limits until everything became warm, wet, and sticky. He was filled with it, covered in it, licking it from his fingers and from Gales mouth once he’d been plopped onto the leather of the couch in the study, peppered in kisses as his vision blearily came in and out of focus from the exhaustion that crept up on him, Bucky wiping him clean with a wet wash cloth from the adjoining bathroom while Gale smoothed his hair away from his eyes.
“Told ya I could do it.” Curt whispered through the hiccups that still wracked his lungs that struggled to catch an even breath.
{ these keep getting longer and longer pls put a muzzle on me }
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honeyshiddendesire · 3 days
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Pet Name Headcanon List
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Monkey D Garp x Female Reader - bratty girl
Warnings: spanking, fbackshots, vaginal penetration, degradation kink, dirty talk/teasing, rough sex, brat taming, finger sucking, orgasm denial
*banner*
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Your whimpers from the large man’s spanks were covered up by the calloused fingers he used to fuck down your throat, his other heavy hand delivering rough slaps on your ass. “Mmph!” Your eyes roll back as you feel him slap your ass again, “You’re always being such a bratty girl. I don’t think you understand who you’re dealing with darling cause you seem to have forgotten who’s in charge. Don’t worry though cause I’ll remind you. Since you want to be a bratty girl you get what bratty girls get.” Garp’s words are spoken in a frustrated tone as his hand never lets up. 
You feel tears welling in your eyes from the sting on your ass cheeks, your body bent over his desk without a care of who would walk in since it was the middle of the night. Most soldiers have gone to their rooms leaving Garp and you in his office for some overtime. His papers scattered all over the floor making you whine, as his slaps only knocked more things off the desk, rocking your body in the process. You yelp at the feel of his hand running over your soaked panties, the sound of his disappointed huff making you shiver. “Bratty girl getting all wet just from being disrespectful. Now I have to spank you like you’re a child.” His words followed by an even harder slap, a scream trying to leave you that his fingers in your mouth covered up. 
“Garp~” You words a weird muffled sound that made him grunt, “Not a fucking sound out of you brat. Mislabeling work, interrupting an important call, now we both have to stay extra late for more work to be done but no~ I have to sit here and punish my bratty girl for being such a damn distraction.” 
“Sworry~” You moan as he slaps your pussy before going back to slap your ass further rocking your body against his desk from the force. The strength in his muscles working extra hard, veins bulging in his hands and arms. Garp was a mouth of muscle and he really used it on you but moments like this he never held back even if you were his sweet princess. Right now though you were nothing more than a distracting brat who needed a lesson in respect for her elders. 
“Think these spanks aren’t enough, maybe I have to rearrange that rude little pussy of yours. What do you say bratty girl? Want my cock to fuck some respect into you?” Garp asks as he rubs your sore ass, his large hand covering your entire cheek with a grunt. Smirking as he feels you moan around his fingers, your greedy tongue swirling and sucking around the rough calloused pads of his fingertips. “Bratty girl somehow always gets what she wants.” Garp grumbles out but he had a trick up his sleeve that would definitely make you listen.
Ripping your lace panties making you whine he stood up from his chair and positioned his heavy cock against your folds. “Listen you might be my favorite bratty girl out there but this making me stay late after work has got to stop. So lesson time it is sweetie.” Garp grins as you try to turn your head to look at him with pleading eyes that he ignores. Using his hand he grabs your ass, using his thumb to open up your cunt more for him as he runs his cock along your slutty folds. Your pussy excited despite the sting on your ass cheeks. 
“Such a pretty pussy. Too bad she won’t be cumming.” Garp laughs at your wide eyes as he slams his hips forward making you scream loudly. His fingers pushing further down your throat to make you gag and choke, his cock being squeezed for dear life in the warmth of your juicy pussy. “Bratty girls don’t get to cum.” Garp smirks against your ear as you only whine, your tongue swirling around his finger as if you were trying to beg for mercy. 
“No amount of ‘sorry’s will change your punishment. You’re a bratty girl who needs to learn her place.” Garp groans at the feeling of your cunt tightening at his words, his cock leaking in your cunt making you whimper. “What’s the matter bratty girl? You think I’m gonna let you cum after all this work I have to do now because of you?” His laugh is loud and it’s like it sends vibrations all up your body making your head swirl.
You tried pushing back into his meaty cock but he only fucked you harder, his hips pinning you down and making the desk creak loudly. It felt like the desk would give out from under you at the rate that he was fucking you and it made your head spin you felt like you were gonna cum from how deep his cock impaled your poor pussy. 
The large man only laughed feeling the way your tight little cunt was trying to milk his cock, knowing that your release was close but sucks for you cause he was closer. Garp was a sucker for taming a bratty girl like yourself, his cock hard all day from your fuck ups knowing that your punishment and play time was inevitable. Clicking his teeth he only turned your head, his fingers in your mouth hooking your cheek like you were some kind of fish until you were looking at him.
 “Gonna cum ain’t you bratty girl?” Garp’s sharp gaze drilling into your brain and you couldn’t help but moan in response. Smirking as he felt his cock twitch with the hard thrusts he was giving you he leaned in close.
“That’s too damn bad.” Garp grunts as he fucks his cum deep in your pussy catching you by surprise. Hips stilling with a groan that turned to a boisterous laugh as he watched his creamy seed drip down your legs.
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ca-suffit · 1 day
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yeah anon I don't want to publish ur specific ask for the reasons u said, but thank u for reminding me of this post. this post from nalyra-dreaming was part of the affirmative action drama and I think a lot of what's in this post got lost out being talked about because of that. so let's talk about it. let's comb thru this so ppl can rly understand nalyra's racism and what they're defending when they want to defend her.
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first off, lol take ur own advice. but anyways. this way of speaking is crazy. this is why this whole group of besties put everyone off as time went on. that's why it's lol when ppl come to me saying nobody likes u, we prefer them. okay?? ur weird and u like being yelled at idk. these ppl read some dumb books and think they work on the show. they reference each other's fanon more than anything else. there's no discussions. they talk AT u. it's a bunch of ppl who want to be seen as smart and popular. that's it lol. "we've been trying to tell them" girl u don't work on the show stfu.
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this bitch is a whole bitch. u act like u have been victimized by a black fan because you had a disagreement. u play up "I tried to listen and I agree too! poor me, THEY don't want to hear anything else but what THEY want to hear :(" and THEN u have the fckn audacity to say shit like why aren't u all listening to BLACK MAN JACOB ANDERSON. why aren't u listening to black fans? why are u here making this post to act like a victim to "mean" black fans who just don't listen to facts and logic and jacob anderson himself. why are u here twisting this shit up to pretend u have empathy for black ppl by stepping over everyone here (who does not have to filter anything for show press) and saying "actually ur all wrong and stupid and ur the REAL racists because u take away jacob and bailey's own voices."
this is a real level of fucking evil racist shit and why I'm spelling this out rly slow rn so u all understand.
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"Louis is not chained to his coffin guys, he could have left, and a fight which shows off power discrepancies within the show story line is not automatically domestic abuse."
u jump thru so many hoops for lestat's defense it has made u dumb as fuck.
where was louis supposed to go? he's black, his family hates him, his husband is a demon spawn who stalks everyone down who tries to leave. who BEAT HIS ASS already at the *thought* that he'd even leave. that's not DV?? he could have left?? how are u like 50 years old and victim blaming like this and then saying u have authority over analyzing these books for the peasants here lol.
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the favorite go to line from this dumb group is "they're monsters" "they're vampires." anne rice was famous in the first place for using iwtv to humanize vampires. I think she used this type of "logic" over time too tho and that's prbly where this comes from. it's a bad excuse tho. we're talking about DV but u say it's not DV and then say "they're all murderers anyway so nothing matters." girl the redemption isn't about vampirism, it's about whiteness. u big fucking dummies who can't talk about race always want to pretend this is about lestat being a vampire and how we're too stupid to understand vampires and monsters. the horror of lestat rn is his whiteness. the horror is the power that gives him as he's the least capable of rational thought in that whole "family" unit. he's ignorant, controlling, and quick to anger. he never tries to fix his ignorance, he makes excuses for all his behavior because he CAN. because society allows him to do that! louis and claudia can't make any mistakes or be forgiven because black ppl are not given that same grace. u can call lestat a monster because on a white man that's still an attractive quality. ppl LUV white serial killers and abusers so much and hype them up like they're galaxy brain heroes. calling a black person a monster is just every day. with no benefit. that's the one u rly believe is the threat and then u shoot to kill.
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she's so dumb omfg. isolation doesn't mean put in an empty room. lestat wove himself into every aspect of louis' life so that louis could not exist without him. yes, on a level, louis was showing off his man, but u see how the "roots" take hold more and more over time. he's living in lestat's house, lestat is now the one driving the car. more and more lestat is telling them what they're doing and becoming critical of what louis will not give up. acting up v loudly when he doesn't get his way (he brings antoinette in when louis isn't "acting right" so he can torture louis at his job so he'll fix himself already, then he "allows" louis to see other people except now I'm gonna overreact about that too, now I've chased claudia off but btw did u know I've always had a big dick and u not being fun for me anymore is why all of this has ever happened??)
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again with the evilness of trying to prove ur shit point by saying "if u disagree with me then u hate black people (jacob anderson) even tho I'm speaking over all black ppl here with this post." ok lestat lol. u are always trying to excuse lestat's actions for being what they are by saying there's a book reason behind it or saying louis or whatever black or brown character is the REAL abuser. do u think abuse has to be intentional to count as abuse? do u rly think lestat's actions are justified when he could have easily explained any of it without doing all that? his response to louis' depression is to do everything I wrote above. u think that's not abuse? u think that's not isolation? "be my companion" but he didn't mean emotionally. u don't think that's maybe the arc lestat is going to have to go thru to be a better partner to louis? what do u think his arc is then, louis just made it all up and soon we won't have to care about race and lestat has been a cool guy this whole time just kidding?? anne rice rly gave u a smooth ass brain.
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I don't even know what this means. u all love to skip over points and just say "okay SWEETIE u just don't understand dark themes and monsters, u won't ever get it." okay U, SWEETIE, ur 50 years old, talk slow for me. I know u can do it. if u want authority then prove u know ur shit. a loud voice by itself doesn't do anything but yell. but this is all mama rice taught u tho. so here we are lol.
"everything is unreliable narration except for lestat who is always telling the truth because his egotistical crazy ass white woman author who wanted to be a white man so badly and wrote in his voice IRL to yell at ppl for real said he's telling the truth" u are all so crazy and racist and then u get big mad when ppl notice how crazy and racist u are lol. this gap between series airing has been annoying af but it's sure exposed ur asses because ur not smart like u think u are. when someone rly shows up and breaks down ur arguments to ur face and that is the sole reason I'm here, u all have nothing to say anymore. so fuck u lol enjoy this well earned fallout.
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bullet-prooflove · 2 days
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Trying!Series Part Four: Two Months - Will Trent x Reader
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Tagging: @yezzyyae @words-and-seeds @trublu2u @cassiopeiablog @kmc1989
Trying!Series:
Part One: Notions - Seeing you with a baby opens Will up to a future he never contemplated.
Part Two: Trying - You and Will struggle to give each other what you really want, causing friction in the relationship.
Part Three: Thirty Days - Your plans to start a family with Will are put on hold when he goes undercover as Bill Black.
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It’s two more months before Will comes home. That’s how long it takes for him to unravel CK’s real identity and disband her operation. He doesn’t see you throughout that time, it’s too dangerous. He’d learned the morning after you’d slipped out that CK had gotten word he’d taken a working girl to bed. It’s then he realises how closely he was being watched. There’s no phone calls or visits after that.
The night you spent together; it sustains him. He lies in bed reliving it over and over again until it’s etched into his memory.
He's exhausted when he steps over the threshold, both physically and emotionally. This whole case has taken a toll on him, but the last couple of days have been the most harrowing. He’d barely escaped the apartment complex with his life, he’s lucky that he’d made some strong connections in his time undercover, or he might not have made it back at all.
You’re sitting on the couch reading, Betty curled up in your lap when he closes the door behind him. He looks at the two of you and something in his heart just settles because finally he’s back where he’s supposed to be.
He’s still a little quiet, a little withdrawn. It’s hard for him making the adjustment from Bill Black to Will Trent. He’s spent the past two months guarded, closed off.
You undress him in the bathroom, your hands light and gentle as you undo the buttons of his shirt. When he steps underneath the spray, he feels the tension beginning to unfurl from his muscles as your careful hands smooth shower foam over his tired form. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his eyes closing as the water flows over his body.
“I missed you so much.” He whispers. “I didn’t mean to be away for so long.”
“I know.” You tell him, your thumb chasing over the line of his jaw. “It’s ok.”
He doesn’t realise how much he needs to hear that until the words leave your lips. Before he left the two of you were trying for a baby, undergoing fertility testing, discussing options if you couldn’t start a family the traditional way. This case had derailed all of that, you’d been forced to put your life on hold, your dreams.
He stays in the shower for a long time after you leave to cook dinner, letting the water rinse away all traces of Bill Black. There were things he had to do undercover that he isn’t proud of, it takes him a while to erase the feel of Rosa from his skin. It went no further than kissing and a little light petting on her behalf but still it weighs on him. He knows it means nothing, that you’ll give him that look and remind him of the time you’d had to do something similar but still he hates it.
It's when he’s throwing away the empty toothpaste tube that he spots the pregnancy test sticking out of the bin. He picks it up, his eyebrows furrowing as he studies the device intently. He may struggle with reading but by now he knows what that little blue cross means. He’d spent months praying for it before he went undercover.
When he steps into the kitchen your focus is on the pasta dish you’re preparing. He notices you’re using wholemeal instead of the regular stuff, that you’ve added more veggies to the recipe. His arms wrap around you as he buries his face into the curve of your neck, his lips brushing over the hinge of your jaw. His palms come to rest on your abdomen.
“When were you going to tell me, sugar?” He murmurs into your ear.
The left side of your mouth quirks up into a smile as you lean back against his chest.
“Tomorrow.” You tell him, your fingers threading with his. “I thought I’d give you tonight to decompress.”
“Oh darlin. Something like this, I wanna know about it straight away.” He murmurs into your ear as his thumb chases over space where his baby resides. “You’ve made the happiest man alive you know that?”
“I think you had a little something to do with it.” You tease, your palm smoothing over your stomach, and he chuckles into the hollow of your throat because the sense of elation he feels right now, he’s never felt anything like it.
“I can’t believe we made a baby, sugar.” He whispers as he cradles you close. “The two of us we made a baby.”
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writing-whump · 12 hours
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forgive my 200 ask at the minute, but my brain is on fire. I just love your babies, so much. Alright, so would u ever be up for writing a moment where Isaiah actually has to use his shadow on another wolf, where all his soft skills in the world fail him (the other pack/wolf won't hear him) and he's forced to let the Executioner out in front of Matt and Sel?
And not even in a bad lighting (ofc Sel will be spooked regardless), but really just a small reminder this man IS super capable and badass, even if his shadow is lowkey falling apart.
asking for a friend 🙈🙈🙈
I need you too much
Seline always felt like she had to beat the world back with a stick sometimes, to conserve her energy levels.
Everything tried to syphon her. Every class, every homework, every person, everything needed for work. And that was fine, that's why she made sure to enjoy all those things as much as she could. Careful selection.
But she still needed those precious days where she could just stay in her room and do nothing. Just her thoughts, her books, some writing done, music and daydreams. No obligations, no socialising or putting herself together.
She needed to just be with herself to recharge her batteries.
And she was careful about that time even with Isaiah and Matt. While she made an effort to be present with them, whole-heartedly and completely, to make traditions, to spend time together, there were moments that were untouchable and only hers.
But now the most terrible feeling came upon her.
She wanted to spend the entire weekend with Isaiah.
She couldn't sleep that night, thinking of how much she didn't want to go back to the house or to her room or to her books, if she could just be with him. One more day. An extra day of the week.
It wasn't a thing she felt like she could say out loud without sounding insane. Every girl in her shoes would logically want to spend all her time with her boyfriend.
But Isaiah wasn't just in the category "interesting" or "not exhausting". He was category "share every thought with", "read him the best passage on the page" and "childish kind of delight" at just seeing his face.
This was terrible. Out of control terrible, horrible.
So instead of enjoying the evening and hurrying home from class, she sat down at the park next to uni and watched the trams. Sun came and went, twilight came and went and she couldn't make herself move. Afraid to go home; afraid to completely lose herself in that irresistible desire to see that man.
Oh, this was so so bad.
Seline refused to give someone that much power over her. To hurt her, to control her. She wasn't going to depend on anyone and even less on a guy. Her thoughts were supposed to be enough to make her happy - she was enough to make herself happy.
The streets were clearing out. Vienna wasn't particularly calm at night, but the vicinity of the main university building sure missed its students in these hours.
Seline almost didn't notice, except the trams weren't coming that often and the wind was starting to howl emptily.
She should go home. This wasn't particularly secure anymore. Not that she needed anyone to feel secure. No way.
"Ah, look at that. Isn't that Seline?"
Seline blinked, getting herself back in the present.
The girl had long violet hair, a coat with spiraly patterns and long fale earrings shimmering in the steetlamp light. The other one she held around the waist had long brown curly hair and dark eyes and was considerably smaller in size.
"Hi, Violet," Seline muttered. "Bye, Violet."
Violet gave her a sly smile. "Oh you are not getting rid of me that easily. You know Seline, Cami? That's the witch that used to be in our coven."
Seline sighed, leaning back on the bench. Just the kind of theatrics she needed.
"You know why she got kicked out?"
"I left," Seline corrected, trying to not to let herself get baited into this. Violet was not worth the time to argue with.
"She believes," Violet continued, voice rising, "into the human system of work. Wants to waste her valuable magic and time for salary and live under explotative capitalist conditions. Some serious brainwashing, isn't it?"
Seline rolled her eyes. "It's called having interests outside of magic. And wanting to contribute something to the society."
"We are contributing. Our magic. A proper witch should get the freedom to develop her talents and arts."
"No, you just want somebody to take care of you just because you were born," Seline said, voice acidic. "If you can't find a wolf who would do so just cause you look pretty, then the state should do it for you. Cause food and electricity simply fall out of the sky and witches are too cool to work like normal mortals."
Violet frowned. "You just aren't skilled with magic so you look for something pathetic to fill the void."
"Yes, indeed, lot of pathetic people work at the university."
"I am at the university too."
"That's it, Violet. You are, you don't work. You just put stickers with communist ideas onto bathrooms and tables and feel important. Giving speeches about how everything should belong to everybody, because you shouldn't have to create anything of value, since you have a talent for magic."
"That's-"
"Magic," Seline interrupted, "that doesn't work on humans or for humans. It comes from wolf shadows and works only on them. Tell me Violet, what exactly is your problem? Can't find a job to your liking? Or can't be bothered to put in any effort or thought into one?"
"You should learn how to shut up," Violet was downright hissing. "So it doesn't cost you that precious job of yours."
"Are you pulling the strings now, Vi? If you at least read the crap you put on those stickers or actually went 50 kilometers to the east to see what your ideas looked like in practice in the Sowjet Union-"
"That you came from to steal our jobs and places at universities," Cami said, looking terribly proud of herself for pitching in. "Little Slavic refugee and a thief."
This is the EU, you idiot. I have every right to he here. Seline stood up, making a mocking motion as if she was tipping her head to the two witches, heart racing. "Your intelligence knows no bounds. Have a good evening, bitches."
She made to move behind the bench and to the other side of the park, when a tall figure suddenly appeared out of the shadow, blocking her way.
"If only you stayed a little bit longer, Sel," Violet said in the sweetest fake voice she could manage. "You might have had found a wolf to protect you."
...
"Isaiah, you are overreacting."
Isaiah didn't slow down at Matthew's protests as he hurried down the street, into the direction of Seline's last class.
"She should have been home hours ago."
"Yeah, maybe she found a bookshop on the way and forgot about time again."
"She is not answering me."
"Do I have to remind you of the speech she gave us both about being constantly available? She knows how to turn it off and all that crap." Despite his reassurances, Matthew jogged behind Isaiah at the same pace.
The streets were basically empty at 11 on Monday. Isaiah let his shadow up to have more senses to search with. His shadow eagerly consumed the darkness and the streets around, melting into it.
It sensed another intense eagerness just ahead of them.
Isaiah sped up into an outright run, Matthew close on his heels.
He didn't catch Seline's scent until he was almost there. They stood upwind with buildings all around, it was hard to track.
But it was Seline alright. Circled by a bunch of wolves who were throwing her around like a volleyball. Frozen solid in their grip, tyring not to show a reaction. Sign of fear or pleading would just rile a wolf up.
Wolves technically shouldn't harm witches. Witches had a powerful calming effect on them, making it very hard to be hostile to them.
But there were other witches present. Two altogether, standing a bit to the side but with good view. A wolf head over heels for a witch would be capable of many impossibilities.
The girls noticed them first, the one with blue-violet hair immediately positioning herself between them.
Matthew stopped at the sight, unsure. Wolf should not harm a witch. Not only was it physically uncomfortable, felt entirely wrong for a wolf to do so, it was strictly forbidden and looked-down upon.
A wolf should not touch a witch without her permission. Touch ment connection and connection meant magic.
Isaiah had not decided what to say yet, but he did not feel any qualms. "You let her go right now," he said quietly. "This is the only warning you will get."
The violet witch smiled widely as the wolves behind her looked up, sneering.
"I don't think you are paying attention, pal," one of the wolves said. "It's six of us. And it's only two of you. You really want to fight us?"
Might makes right kind of idiots? Fine with him.
Isaiah noticed Matthew's hesistant look, not seeing a way how to get to the wolves around the two witches he wasn't supposed to touch.
Isaiah didn't wait for him. His shadow was up and about in the darkness, covering the ground underneath them. One quick twist and they were all falling down, feet flying up as if he pulled the carpet underneath them.
The girl's smile turned into a surprised grimace.
Before anyone could move Isaiah used his shadow to sweep over the wolves, rolling their shadows one by one with smoothness of years of experience.
He stepped closer, pushing the two witches out of the way as they yelped, looking down. His shadow didn't need a straight path. And he had enough control not to touch Seline in the midst of them.
She was standing upright in the middle with a stony expression. But her arms were wrapped around her, her hair was sticking in all directions. He scanned her for any signs of blood or injury.
Not finding any didn't really quell his anger.
"I thought you wanted to fight," Isaiah said, turning back to the wolves crawling and moaning on the ground. Three were shivering without their shadows, one was curled up holding his head, one was even passed out. Rolling a shadow was never pleasant.
The last one, the one who spoke, was crawling away. Isaiah quickly closed the distance between them, kicking him into the stomach. And then in the face for good measure.
He took him by the collar, easily lifting him with one hand. "You come after my girl again, I'll rip your arms off, you hear?"
The wolf shook violently than nodded.
Isaiah turned around, his shadow riding around in satisfaction, brimming with happy aggressive energy. It wanted to make good on his threat right away, wanted to rip them to little pieces along with the witches.
Isaiah looked back at Seline and down, suddenly self-conscious of how much of those desires she could read from his expression.
Seline said nothing, retrieving her bag from the ground.
She did not take his hand, when he offered it.
...
Isaiah was sure he had fucked things up spectacularly. He went all scary in front of Seline, did not even wait for Matt to back him up. He just rushed into it with killing intent.
The way Seline got scared from Matthew's shadow, how she cried and shut him down for weeks to come was fresh in his mind, making his chest tight and dread pool in his stomach.
Seline said nothing on their ride back home and didn't look at any of them. He wasn't sure how to interpret it, she was very hard to read, when she didn't want some kind of emotion to show. But it must have been fear. What else could it have been?
Fear from what just happened and from him and from being involved with wolves in general...
When they arrived at their apartment, she went upstairs immediately. Clear signal she wanted space.
"This is going to be a problem," Isaiah said quietly, staring at the staircase.
Matthew bumped into his shoulder. "What do you mean?"
"Well, look at her! She is terrified of me!" He turned around to lean his forehead against the wall.
There was angry stomping on the floor above them. Then a slam of the door.
"Yeah, I don't think fear is what we are talking about," Matthew said dryly. "She looks pissed to me."
"Huh?" Isaiah said intelligently. His brain was short-circuiting at how he just went all Executioner in front of his girlfriend.
"Yep. Stop making guesses and go talk it out. No point worrying about something that might not be true."
"But- Did you not see-"
"I saw fine. It was plenty cool, if you ask me," Matthew said with a smirk. "Shoo."
Isaiah shook his head in exasperation, but went up.
Seline was in the process of changing and getting ready for bed. She slammed the cupboards violently behind her, the doors creaking painfully as she threw them open and then shut again.
Isaiah slipped inside her room, a little stunned by the display. He couldn't remember if he had seen Seline like this before.
"Ehhh...are you okay?"
She gave him an indignant look. "I'm fine! Perfectly fine!"
Isaiah watched her as she glared at her discarded jeans and shirt on the bed, in her PJs already, suddenly grateful Seline's affinity was water and not fire.
"Why didn't- you could have called me, you know?" He said tentatively into the silence. "I would have come sooner."
"I didn't need you to come."
Isaiah's eyebrows knitted together. "Well, then you could have at least called Matthew or messaged us where you were, so if something happened, we would know to look for you."
"I don't need-"
"You message your mother when you go to school and arrive home, why the hell can't you do the same for your pack?" Isaiah interjected, voice jumping up. "If you don't want to see me, fine, if you- at least let us know you are okay. Not to mention you weren't-"
"If those cows didn't bring their wolves, I would have been alright," she said, turning back to him, her chin up.
"I don't doubt that, but they had wolves around and it's my duty as your packmember and packleader-" Why was he defending his desire to protect her again?
He knew it was the wrong thing to say by the furious look in her eyes.
"Look," he said, pressing the bridge of his nose. "Wolves are dangerous, the city is dangerous and I just want to keep you safe. You can at least make sure of that, right? If you need a break from-from me or if you are disgusted or scared of me right now- there are still ways how to-"
"What are you going on about?"
"You didn't answer my messages or my calls all day," Isaiah said. "I thought something was wrong or that you were upset with me."
Seline watched him silently as if that wasn't all.
"And...right now...That must have been scary, right? I don't blame you for-"
She gave a dramatic sight. "I was upset. But not with you."
Seline approached. Isaiah suppressed the urge to back away, keeping the space he had drawn around her in his head untouched.
Seline's eyes widened at something, then she took the last three steps between them to stand right in front of him. "I'm not scared of you. That was actually...really nice of you. To defend me like that."
"Yeah?" He rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. "I don't want you to see-"
"I have never been scared of you. Wolves, sometimes, and yelling maybe, but not you. You would never do anything to hurt me." She took his face between her hands to make him look at her.
Isaiah let out a relieved breath, putting his hands over hers on his cheeks. "Okay. That's good, I'm glad. So what were you...upset about before?"
He watched her face intently, and his heart jumped into his throat where there were suddenly tears spilling over her cheeks.
"Sel?"
"I don't-" she broke off with a shuddering breath, ducking her head. "I don't want to need you this much."
"I'm sorry - what?"
"It's like I depend on you to protect me, and-and I'm doing it all wrong. I'm not supposed to tell you stuff like this, but I wanted- I want to be with you too much." She let go of his face, hugging herself.
Isaiah had the distinct feeling he was missing something. "And that's bad how?"
She looked up at him, her eyes even bluer from the tears.
"Isn't that kind of why we are together?"
Her blond eyebrows met in the center of her forehead in annoyance. "Don't you understand how bad this is? You...you are better than my solitude."
Isaiah frowned until he remembered the quote she meant. It was one of the quote books that they read in the evening to each other, sometimes to discuss them. My alone feels so good, I'll only have you if you're sweeter than my solitude.
His heart was fluttering in his chest at the proclamation as he understood what this meant.
Not needing more reassurance than that, he scooped her up from her feet, hugging her to him. No way he was allowing his girlfriend to feel so sad about caring about him so much.
He dragged her into the bed, arms wrapped snuggly around her, and she reciprocated, hugging him just as tight around the waist. Like she couldn't get close enough.
„Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within," he said into her ear, nose in her hair. "You know that one? Cause that's how it feels to be with you."
Her breath hitched against him, her face buried in his chest he wondered how she could even breathe. But he couldn't make himself let her go.
He wondered how he ever could again.
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