#why does it have to be work OR chores ONE OF EACH AT LEAST COME ON

[facetsofthecloset]

Me coming home from work with groceries: Ooh I got some nice stew meat I can’t wait to make stew when I get home! 🥰

Me at home: 🫠 floor time never speak to me or ask me to do anything ever again 🫠

[ronearoundblindly]

For the every Cevans character, what is each one’s favorite position in bed? 😏😆

Fac-i-na-ting. I have categorized them into similar positions and then broken down the specifics or variations. No, I do not know the actual names of a lot of positions. I use the terms 'top' and 'bottom' but NOT in a BDSM way.

Sincerely, MINORS DNI. Warnings for very smutty descriptions of each of these characters 'in the act' and just...do I need to warn you about how much I was sweating during this???

'Top' Positions

Curtis Everett - Jimmy Dobyne - Steve Rogers - Ransom Drysdale - [Bucky Barnes]

Curtis is a cramped-quarters kind of lover, like you have been fucked up the bed until you and he are pressed against that headboard like a pretzel on a baking sheet. Gahdamn, he is intense. He threads an arm beneath you to make sure you're as close as possible. He grinds his pelvis into you, loving how his balls slap your ass. He likes it real sweaty, but he'll help you clean up in the shower, too. Dirty boi. 😮‍💨 We need him.

Jimmy and Ransom like you bent over but in different ways. Ransom just enjoys doggie-style. He feels awkward with too much eye contact and doesn't have to worry about that from behind. Jimmy is exceptionally good at spontaneously pressing you back or down onto a counter or the couch or perhaps a fence outside. 😳 He's oddly into fucking with at least some clothes on, but not because he doesn't like your body. He has a thing for choosing sex over chores or other obligations, so he and you are dressed for doing whatever else. It's just a little naughtier that way.

Steve is--I'm sure we can all agree--a missionary man. He looooves that eye contact Ran is so afraid of, but BUT! Steve's also a most considerate gentleman. He worries about putting too much of his weight on you, so his actual favorite position in pinning you against a wall (or mirror or window, etc) because he can lean into you without fear. He also enjoys that you get very, very excited for him to hold you up like that. You wrap around his neck and kiss him like it's your purpose in life. You get handsy, and that's about his favorite part...

[I know you said CE characters, nonnie, but Bucky just sneaks in, sorry!]

Ngl, Bucky took me the longest to figure out, and I'm not entirely sure he has a true 'favorite,' something he likes a good deal more than other positions. I have, however, landed on Bucky going braindead and gooey inside when he gets you in a mating press. There's, uh, a symbolism to wanting him and his cum inside you for as long as possible that hits all the right buttons to shut him down to the rest of the world for a while. He likes to sit back afterward and grip your knees to keep you right there until some drips out as you clench around nothing. You aren't empty though.

[Why. the fuck. does Bucky always get so 🥵 in these?]

'Bottom' Positions

Johnny Storm - Jake Jensen - Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd lets himself be lazy. He legitimately tucks his hands behind his head like he's at the beach and taunts you to work harder. He's so used to ordering people around and being quite active. Unless he has some aggression/frustration to work through, Lloyd needs to not be bothered with effort. It's your turn. Put your back into it.

Jake lets you control everything. Let's be fair: Jake is just happy to be here, ya know? He gets to be naked, he gets to see you naked, and he is going to come no matter what. Use him to your heart's content. Don't try telling him not to touch you (like an order or a deprivation game) because he can't stop himself. Every other order or request, he's game for, but on his back offers the best view of you--and technically, his glasses fog less 😬.

Johnny straight up loves when you ride him. He controls everything from below, though, because it's not actually about you taking over. He loves guiding your hips. He loves fucking up into you. He loves already being prone to fall asleep faster. [Go on, try to tell me I'm wrong. ::listens:: ::crickets:: Yeah, that's what I thought.] It's a win-win-win situation. All around cannot fail to please him. Johnny is definitely the type to assume that what feels good to him feels as good for his partner.

'Side' Positions

James Mace - Ari Levinson

Mace technically changes positions so much it maybe doesn't count as 'side,' but he's so playful, I'll allow it. His favorite sex, in general, is filled with natural ebbs and flows, quicker frantic times as well as soft doting and sweet, blissful enjoyment. A position that puts either him and you a hair's breath away from taking over is ideal. He wants to enjoy your company as much as your body. Mace can do both of those things in many, many different positions.

[Mace is quickly becoming a sleeper-fave of mine, my gawd. He's 😘🤌]

Finally, if Ari doesn't scream "wants to wake up fucking you," I don't know who does. He's spooning you, or coiled together with you someway, and just...ready when he sees you first thing in the morning--or in the middle of the night. Why bother moving much? He'll lift that leg up for you. He'll wrap around you to cup your breasts, play with your nipples, and rub your clit. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Doesn't have to do with the position you're in, per se, but Ari also gruffly whispers other shit he'd like to do to you in your ear. It's vaguely easier to do that when your heads are on the same pillow, just saying.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would..." Asks; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I successfully scheduled a post! Look at me, learning and shit...

[d3wdropz]

Sukuna NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: fem!reader, nsfw, smut, trueform, overstimulation, degradation, fingering, oral (fem receiving and giving), creampie, breeding, doggy style, cowgirl, mating press, light spanking, hairpulling, fingering, blowjob, dom! sukuna, p in v, no protection, double-dickery, and that's all (I think)

A/N: hiii! I have never really written a fic on tumblr so i'm hoping it goes well- plz have mercy on me and my horny ass

Thank you @roseschoices for the beautiful banner!

♡- Dominant. A rough dom at that. Also kind of demanding, but only bc he knows you love it

♡- He loves being in control, refuses to let you top or call the shots. If you think riding him helps, you are so wrong. Sukuna's just gonna grab your hips and start pounding- best thing to do is hold on tight and enjoy it

♡- His punishments are never like BDSM extreme with whips and chains. In his mind, sex has an end goal and prolonging it can be fun, but not when it feels like a chore for him. Sukuna loves some bratty behavior, but it gets on his nerves sooo fast

♡- Sukuna just expects you to be an obedient little girl, but if you're not be prepared for some rough backshots and hair-pulling that leaves your scalp sore

♡- He won't slap your ass hard, more so as a way of warning you when to shut up

♡- Speaking of hair-pulling, he uses your hair/head like it's some fucking handlebar- especially when you give him head. Bc he has you in an iron grip, he gets to choose the pace, how deep you take him, and whether you swallow or not

♡- He has definitely said shit like "Come on, slut- I'm keeping you here until you swallow" and he means it. So either guzzle that baby-batter or get ready for a long night

♡- You'll have one of his cocks in your mouth while jerking off the other. That's not enough tho, best believe he wants both sucked dry

♡- Sukuna doesn't just like getting head, he'll dive into your pussy for hours. And he's not just gonna eat it, he's gonna take his time sucking on your clit and scissoring open your cunt until you're crying

♡- Your thighs will be clamped around his head, hands pulling on his hair, begging for him to give you a break. Sukuna just chuckles and watches you shiver from the vibrations before he uses one pair of arms to hold your thighs open and the other to work you to your next orgasm

♡- He degrades you in the best ways, not that "You're my bitch" type shit, but the really good stuff

♡- "My poor little slut's getting sensitive" he says as he speeds up his thrusts, "Don't worry, just need you to cum again for me. Promise this'll be the last one" fucking liar

♡- One of his favorite positions is the mating press. One cock fucking you open, the other bumping against your tummy while you beg for more- or in you ass, depends on his mood

♡- He cums so much, it's thick and a little sour but very creamy. One load from just a singular cock leaves your mouth flooded. And bc of his double-dickery, expect to be stuffed full

♡- Sukuna believes the only place his cum should be is inside you, he doesn't care if it's your mouth or pussy, long as it's not wasted

♡- When he is in the breeding mood, expect at least six rounds. Three for each dick, and atleast two orgasms for you each round

♡- He loves fucking you stupid, overstimulation is his favorite thing. The main reason is because Sukuna loves watching you go dumb on his dicks

♡- "Fuck- that's my girl" you can barely hear him over the sound of his thighs slapping against your ass, heavy balls smacking at your clit "Can feel you getting closer- that's right, princess, come for me"

♡- Sukuna's pride is also a big reason why he loves making you cum so much. He wants you to know that nobody else will make you feel anywhere near as good as he does. Gets a shit eating grin when he feels you tighten onto his cock for the fifth time

♡- No matter how much of an asshole he is, he knows that taking both cocks at once is a process. The day you finally give the okay is gonna be when he spends twice as much time prepping you

♡- For once, praise is going to be flowing from his mouth "Doing so good for me, baby" and "Just a little more, you can take it" are just a few examples

♡- He'll eat you out, then finger you for hours until you're begging for his cocks

♡- Which I forgot to mention that one of his fingers alone is as thick as like two of your own

♡- Back to the fucking- he wants to get you into a fucked out headspace to help ease the pain, so prepare yourself for five rounds, eight orgasms, and atleast two squirts until he finally gives you both cocks

♡- You will be thankful he did all that prep cause damn, those cocks are big. One alone is like 9 inches, and so thick you can barely wrap your hands around it. So both at the same time is a tight squeeze

♡- Enjoy the view though, cause this man is going to lose it. You're tight pussy squeezing both of his dicks is gonna make him forget everything and just jackhammer your pussy

♡- Sukuna will be whimpering "Oh shit- fucking best pussy I've ever had. Fuck, that's my girl, take it- take it"

♡- By the end of it all, you'll be stuffed beyond belief and practically passed out

♡- If it means anything, his aftercare is. . . okay. He'll clean up the mess he made, give you some water, and fall alseep with you wrapped in his arms

♡- Overall, 10/10 experience- would recommend

[weskie]

Love in The Stars (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

s.t.a.r.s wesker, fluff, wesker being treated softly (like he deserves!!!), wesker treating you softly (like you deserve!!!) | Fic Directory

Sometimes you catch him. 

When he thinks no one's watching, that the attention is elsewhere, Wesker lets his mask slip. That cool, indifferent demeanor fades. His stiff upper lip settles and his eyes soften, often gazing down to the ground. Something within him shifts as if overtaken by a profound sadness. 

It makes you understand why he wears those sunglasses all the time. You just happened to be at the right angle to see it anyway. 

You don't know how to bring it up. How do you tell your Captain such things? That you've caught his sorrow on full display would be a confession that you stare, which would be more than you want to let on. Of course, such musings are short-lived once his eyes suddenly flicker up to meet yours. They widen slightly, as if taken off guard, and then that mask of his returns in a flash. 

Cool, calculating indifference. 

From then on, you find yourself with a drive to interact with him more– anything at all, really, to cheer him up. You bring him his paperwork, his coffee, each one delivered with a warm smile and kind eyes. You stay late, always making small talk with him as you both lock up and head to your respective homes.  It’s awkward at first.

And then it’s not.  

It comes as a shock the first time you see a flicker of happiness in that icy gaze of his. A glimmer that grows, a spark that catches, and a warmth that spreads to both your cheeks and his– becoming more apparent with every interaction. 

Your run ins become less and less like those of a Captain and his subordinate, and more like friends on the verge of something forbidden and beautiful. 

One night, after the rest of the team left from their mandatory overtime, you nudge his office door open, coffee in hand, and find him with his face cushioned on his arms. His glasses lay aloft in his limp grip as if he'd only meant to rest his head momentarily before crashing altogether.  You smile sweetly at the sight.  Though he’s clearly exhausted, he still looks peaceful in his own way.

A glance around the room turns up no sight of anything to drape over his shoulders, but an idea hits you.  You scurry back to your desk to retrieve your jacket.  It’s nothing too thick– just a light knitted fabric.  Just enough to keep him cozy. At least you hope so, anyway.

You hold your breath as you lay it over his back.

He neither shifts nor stirs, so you simply turn off his clunky desktop monitor and office lights.  You leave his door cracked slightly so he’d have at least some light when he wakes.  

You head home that night with a soft smile on your face, giddiness bubbling in your chest at the image of him snoozing all but burned into your mind’s eye.

You’d never seen him look so serene before, and it’s hard to stop the thoughts of him like that.  What you wouldn’t give to be met with such a sight as you lay your head upon your own pillow…  To hear Wesker’s gentle breaths as he slumbers next to you.

You’ve never been a morning person, but you wager you might be if you could wake up to the sight of him.

Alas, you don’t. And that’s why it’s such a chore to drag yourself through your morning routines and back to work the next day.  Things are mundane as ever, though you do lock eyes with your Captain on more than a few occasions.  His smile is soft and warm, a slight quirk of his lips just subtle enough to avoid drawing attention.  In what world does Captain Wesker smile like that, you imagine would be the question that makes the rest of the team suspicious.  All the same, you know he knows exactly who covered him up the night prior. 

Not that it was difficult to figure out.  Even if he didn’t recognize your go-to zip-up, he still had access to the security cameras.  Puzzling, though, is that he doesn’t give it back to you as soon as he sees you, nor does he do so later in the day.  Even as the team leaves, all of them trying so terribly hard to pressure you and Wesker to join them for lunch, he makes no mention of the garment.  

You decide to be a little bit bold and snoop.  There would be no consequences to being caught, and you’re positive you could spin it as trying to see if he was busy before you came in to talk, so you huddle against the wall and lean over to peek through the blinds to his office window.

He’s invested in something on his screen, and you can faintly hear the sporadic clicking of his mouse as he works. Your cheeks go up in flames and a beaming grin makes its way onto your face when you catch the sight of his left hand.  Atop his desk rests your jacket, neatly folded, and on it rests his hand.  You can clearly see Wesker toying with it between his thumb and forefinger, almost as if it were meant to soothe him.  

Perhaps he was waiting for you to retrieve it yourself.  Maybe he felt no obligation at all to give it back.  Either way, it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

As you all but tip-toe back to your desk, you decide it’s his for as long as he wants it.  

It goes unmentioned even as the two of you leave later that night.

Long after you’ve settled into bed, you find yourself wondering what his reaction must have been when he awoke.  You drift off imagining all the different scenarios.

You’ll never know that he pulled the fabric close to his face and nuzzled it, inhaled your scent and committed it to memory as best as humanly possible.  Somehow, even with an aching neck from the odd position he’d drifted off in, he found that morning to have been one of the best he’s had in… a long time.

He plans another Friday for overtime.  He has to know if you’ll do it again.  

And you do.  He leaves your jacket strategically placed on the back of his swivel chair and feigns sleeping.  In you walk, fresh coffee in hand by the scent of it, and he hears you huff a small laugh.  God, he loves the way you think of him.  All your little ways of taking care of him…

The mug settles on his desk with a soft thud.

You admire him for a moment before grabbing your jacket from the back of his chair and draping it over his shoulders.  A thought runs across your mind that’s too good to ignore, and all too dangerous.  Then again, you’ve come to know your big bad Captain for the sweet man he truly is. There is infinite kindness under his stoicism. 

You lean down and press a kiss to his temple, lingering perhaps a second or two longer than you should’ve.  His skin is warm beneath your lips, and the faded aroma of his cologne blends sweetly with his natural scent.  

That warm fuzzy feeling blooms in your chest, only it turns to abject horror when you pull back and find him grinning and peering up at you.  Your eyes go wide and you freeze.

Oh no…

“You sure know how to tuck me in,” he says nonchalantly.

You’re mortified.  Neither of you have ever pushed this boundary before– never discussed it, either.

You watch Wesker raise his head from his arms and reach for the coffee you brought him, sipping at it with that same grin still etched on his face.  An apology stutters off your tongue in disarray as he stands from his seat to loom over you.  With a curled finger, he tilts your face up to look at him.

You can see in his eyes that he’s only half as confident as he seems.  Part of you is relieved.

“Thank you,” he says, thumb brushing over your lower lip, “for being so sweet to me.”  Your heart hammers a million beats in the short time it takes him to lean down and press his lips to yours.  Your breath catches, your head swims– you all but totally malfunction before some degree of sense hits your mind and you lean into it.  He kisses you slow, thumbing at your cheeks as if to soothe all that anxiety he’d struck into you just mere moments before.

You can’t describe it, but there’s a hint of desperation in the way he moves.  Lips pressing hard, hands pulling just a little more than necessary to keep you right where he wants you.

Like he’s afraid letting go will dispel the illusion.

How terribly understandable.  In a way, you yourself fear that you’ll open your eyes and it will all be a dream.  Perhaps, worse yet, you’ll still be standing there, pit forming in your gut, as your Captain lectures you on the importance of boundaries and personal space.  

Thankfully it is your dreams that come true, not your fears.

Even after your lips part, he doesn’t release you.  His hands remain at your cheeks and he presses his forehead to yours, sighing through his nose as a smile wider than any you’d seen before graces his face.

It’s only understandable that you’d want to kiss him again, right?

And again.

And again.

And again…

He’s got you backed against the edge of his desk by the time you both stop to breathe properly. Wesker makes a move you don’t anticipate.  His arms wrap around you, drawing you into a tight hug.  He buries his face against the crook of your neck.

You swear on everything you hear him murmur a thank you.  You may not understand why, but it doesn’t matter right now.

Not when those pretty blue eyes sparkle at you as if you were brighter than all the stars in the sky.

[memoria-99]

Time limit premise in Ikemen series... and why Vamp is the worst in that sense

Don't misunderstand, I really like Vamp and this has nothing to do with my personal likes.

So the setting of each Ikeseries game from Cybird is like this

Sen: MC who time traveled, 3 month time limit

Rev: MC who went to another world, 1 month limit

Vamp: MC who time traveled, 1 month time limit

Ĺive: MC who was living in that world, no time limit

Gen: MC who was living in that world, no time limit

Pri: MC who was living in that world, 1 month time limit

Vil: MC who was living in that world, 1 month time limit

And among these, the one that this time limit premise is done in the poorest way is Vamp.

This is mostly because MC has only a month(or two, in the later routes but still) and once she leaves she can never come back.

Well, ok you could fall in love in a month, that's acceptable, but giving up your whole life in 21st century for the dude who you've only known for a month? To make matters worse, this MC is good at speaking multiple languages but it's just necessary for everyday life, not like it helps her significantly or makes her a job. The only thing she does in 19th century France is to do chores with Sebastian. I mean, of course that's an important work, yes, but... it has nothing to do with her specialties or dreams or anything. In the worst case scenario if she breaks up with the dude, her choice to be with him leaves her nothing. She just wasted her time doing chores in the random mansion.

At least Sen MC has 3 months, which is absolutely better than one, and she actually has a proper job to do with her specialty in that timeline.

Rev MC is from another world but going back and forth between her world and the guy's isn't very much of a big deal compared to Sen or Vamp. Just wait for a month and she could always go to another world and vice versa.

Live and Gen MCs are in the same world with the guys and don't have any kind of time limit so they have nothing to be bothered.

Pri and Vil MCs have 1 month time limit, but still they're in the same world with the guys so they could always meet even after the deadline, if they really wanted to.

But Vamp MC only has 1 month, and she'll never see the guys again once she leaves that timeline. So she's like "Oh I love him so much, I don't wanna leave him" but 1 month is not enough time to decide whether you could give up all you had including careers, dreams, family and become the housekeeper only for the sake of love.

And this isn't Cybird's game, but Court of Darkness from Voltage has a similar setting, MC going to another world(without the time limit). And at least this MC is an orphan and she mentioned herself that no one will be there for her even if she went back. So it's more acceptable that she chose life in new world, since it's pretty much indicated that she doesn't have much attachment to her previous world.

But Vamp MC? She has family. She has friends. She has job. Why in the world would she abandon all those just for a guy she had just met.

[junislqve]

⟡ stay in my memories

when you had finally started to accept your past, it comes back to haunt you

pairs ex!jake + reader content angst kissing jake being toxic wordcount 1404 — find my other works

note ending is highkey rushed and was supposed to be happy, but this is self indulgent, so! i also listened to memories an ungodly amount while writing this

YOU HUFFED AS YOUR DOORBELL RANG FOR THE SECOND TIME. it was 11pm. a few minutes ago, your friend had just left after picking up her cat from the week-long vacation she had with her boyfriend. you had sensed she’d forgotten something.

when it rang once more, you begrudgingly stood up dragging your legs to the front door. the lights to your small living room was already off save for one that was only enough to illuminate the front door.

you sigh as the door click open, “you really need to stop forget-” 

“hi, babyy” 

your heart dropped. not because of how the man in front of you accidentally stumbled and now practically has his boy weight supported by you, and also somehow not because of how his hands circle your body and rest on your waist like how it used to.

it was his voice that did. 

his voice that you swore on everything you would never want to hear again. hating how it sounded so much you’d bail on any man that sounded similar to him or had his accent.

how could you not when only a few simple words uttered with that voice had your mind reeling? repeating the same heart wrenching sentence in your head over and over again, it engraved itself.

it was pouring outside. you’ve been very stuffed with schoolwork and your finals coming up. papers spread out everywhere on your table and books scattered on your bedsides and floor. 

you felt a tickle on your ankle and watched as your dog rubbed its side on your body, begging for attention. you chuckle, dropping your pen and bending down to pick her up. sitting her on your lap as you rubbed its back. 

“i’m sorry, i just need to finish this paper and i’ll promise i’ll give you some attention, okay?” you coo at her, it hung her head low but complied, laying her head on your lap. 

a moment later, your phone lit up. you stared at the caller and with no hesitation immediately picked it up, a smile growing on your face, “hi, babe-”

“let’s break up”

you stopped. the pouring rain seemed to have hushed in a matter of seconds, the air around you felt constricted. your dog stayed silent, looking up at you in confusion.

“what?” 

“it’s just going to be hard keeping up our relationship in the long run. i’m graduating and you still have two years” 

“so?”

“so i don’t want to hold each other back” he sounded frustrated. 

“so that’s it?” you ask, voice heavy. “you’re going to leave me because you don’t want to wait two years for me?”

“you’re twisting my words”

“that’s exactly what you said, jake” 

“i’m sorry”

no he’s not. 

“no, you’re not” you say, you wait for a second too long before hanging up. you damn well know he’s not, because if he was you wouldn’t be crying as hard as you are right now. your chest wouldn’t have felt as painful as it does.

there was nothing but confusion that clouded your mind the following days. you were trying to reason with yourself why he’d ever break up with you. 

your boyfriend is the sweetest yet most comforting guy you’ve ever known. or at least, was. you thought there must be something wrong with you.

everything reminded you of him. back then, you thought you hit the lottery when he landed as your first love as well as your first boyfriend. you never doubted your relationship, he was always there for you whenever you needed him and you never turned him down if he needed a shoulder. 

every waking moment after the breakup felt plain to you. habits and hobbies turned more of a chore, some of the things you did were picked up from his habits.

you were quiet about your breakup. it took a total of 13 days until anyone found out. your friends having to fish it out of you when they felt how quiet and more zoned out you’ve become.

for three months, jake’s name was not allowed to be uttered. it was a rule your friend made. she knew anything correlated to him could tip you off, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

she didn’t know that you’d still visit his old album from time to time just to feel something. to remember all the ways he loved you and all the ways he wasn’t there to, anymore.

you can’t let go the feeling of how he would hug you, all the times he would kiss you giggles filling out every corner of the room. the moments he’d lay on the bed with you, whispering sweet nothings lulling you to sleep.

you still can feel all of that, a ghost of the past you were never willing to let go.

you wished time could heal all of you completely. because now when you swore you have finally started to move on, he has his body slumped on yours, breath fanning your neck.

“jake?” you curse yourself from how quiet it came out. your voice wavering, your breath shallow before you slowly walk in, his body still slumped on yours.

he hummed, “i missed you” he dug his head deeper into your neck, making you physically sick.

you tug him off, stabling him by his shoulders and you wished you didn’t. you could see his state now. his hair was all messed up, face tinted red from drinking and he had that pout. his eyes attempting to blink itself awake as he looks at you through sleepy eyes.

“jake” you say again, finding your voice. that pout of his grew at your tone.

“don’t you miss me?” he asks, voice so soft you almost gave in. his hands still hover on your waist and you’d lie if you said you weren’t fully aware of it. 

“i’ll grab you some water” you say, walking out of his reach. the heat from his body slowly seeping away as you walk to grab a glass of water.

you turn back to see him sat on the couch, his head laying on the arm rest, legs sprawled sideways. tapping him on the shoulder, his eyes crease open along with that smile of his. your heart clenched.

he grabs the cup and downs it in one gulp, “thank you” he says quietly.

when you were about to grab it and walk back to the kitchen, jake had tugged your shirt causing you to topple on top of him on the couch. 

“you haven’t said you missed me back” he said, head buried in your hair, breathing you in. 

you gathered all of you to push against him and stand up, “jake, stop”

“i know you’re sober”

it barely showed, but you could see the slight waver of his smile.

“i miss you” he says for the third time tonight, eyes open but still slightly glazed.

“you’re being selfish” tears start to well up. it’s overwhelming to say the least. how could he just show up at your doorstep months later giving you false hope? after everything he’s made you go through.

“i know” he starts, sitting up slightly, “and i know i have no right to come back here begging for you to come back. but i miss you”

“you should leave” you look away.

“please”

“jake”

“i’m sorry” he says, “but i’ll do better this time”

maybe it was those eyes that convinced you, or the sliver of sincerity you pretended to see in his eyes or maybe once again it was that voice that allured you. but you gave in. 

he brought you in for a kiss. one that you’ve undoubtedly miss all these months of being apart. jake just knew how to bring you back into his arms. he held you all night long and between the kiss and the cuddling, you dozed into a sleep you haven’t felt for months.

you shifted, you peek at the light hitting your eyes from the slip of the curtains. 

you rolled over, the space beside you, cold. 

you sat up, the blanket falling off your body as you looked around the living room. trying to grasp at the hazy memory of last night.

the table in front of the couch is neat. when your eyes focused there was a scrap of paper placed on it.

‘i don’t deserve you, i’m sorry

-love, j’

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[hg-aneh]

Hi,ik I've been asking questions frequently but I'mma do it again bc I'm that petty;

In the AziraCrow relationship/marriage/or whatever. Who do u think is the housewife/husband? 😀

if we're talking about traditional gender roles applied to marriage ((which i believe would NOT apply to them in canon as they're both nonbinary supernatural beings)), i have to preface this by saying that i rlly don't agree with them as a concept

[if ppl choose to engage in them and not judge others for not doing so then good for them (idgaf akfbsjf)]

i hate that they're still being imposed onto people and that they haven't been left in the past for some contexts

i also want to clarify that the following """analysis""" I'm going to make is all for the sake of poking fun at gender roles and satirizing their entire existence.

Having said that, these are my headcanons:

Aziraphale-housewife, Crowley-husband

Why? Simply because husbands are fucking useless and I like to bully Crowley cuz he stinks and he sucks c0ck and b4-

I'm just goofing around 😭

In my little bubble world, they'd be neither (or both if you wanna see it from that POV)

Let's start with this:

If we take the definition of a traditional husband, which is basically "i work and do nothing else cuz I'm a man and men have their mommies i mean wives do everything for them" and take the Work part away, which is what we'd do if we were to place the ineffables in the south downs aka their retirement shack, then you get a useless fuck

And in reality, they both do jackshit (that's the whole premise of s1) so????? does that mean they're both husbands???

For further insight let's try to affirm Aziraphale is the housewife.

Aziraphale bakes, so he's probably a decent cook too; that's "housewife" material. He also happens to be very pretty and plump and a blonde, which I've been told are pretty ladylike things to be (/sarcasm)

(There are no pretty male blondes in ba sing se good omens)

He dresses in light, dainty clothing and talks with an accent only girls and women talk with, as well as getting his nails done and using make up for his magic act, and he says "please" and "thank you", which are things only women do (I'M BEING SARCASTIC. I'M BEING VERY SARCASTIC. god i hate gender rolesAAAA)

Now this is where the comparisons end cuz let's face it, Aziraphale is a lazy fuck.

You KNOW the bookshop smells like mold and he just miracles it clean every now and then.

He'd rather sit his plump (pretty) blond ass on the couch and read the day away than actually get to doing the baking and cooking or caring for the kids (plants) if it's not a hobby activity

Now let's do the opposite and try to affirm Crowley as the housewife.

He's clean (does the cleaning), he's of service when needed, he organizes when he's stressed (read the book), he- he drives a car...

OH SHIT. MAN ACTIVITY!!!!!🤯🤯🤯 (we're still being sarcastic here, it's not over EFJSJF)

In all seriousness though, trying to fit these two into gender roles, even as a joke is kinda difficult even in headcanon-land ajbfsnf

At least that's my opinion

For every traditionally "feminine" thing you have one of them do, the other outdoes that by a mile. And vice versa with the traditionally "masculine" things, like "being useless" and "car" /sarcasm is back.

So which one would be which? I think they're both dumbasses who fight over who gets to do what in the household (neither of them wants to do anything except for cuddling) and come up with an agreement to divide each chore :)

y'know, like normal people in a functional marriage (my parents lol)

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Just hear me out,

Wild west outlaw König.

That's all ,please and thank you❤️

P.s I love love love your work and you inspire me so much more than words can express,so thank you so much

Wild West Outlaw König Headcanons

Warnings: Outlaw König, König Kills People, Obsessive König, König (DEEP) in Love, Looting, Kidnapping, Implied Smut, Non-Explicit Descriptions of Smut, Dominant König, Submissive König, Mention of Ghost, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You.

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words, my lovely ! Your kind words have touched my heart, and I hope your creative endeavours flourish <3

Man owns a pair of handcuffs and KNOWS how to use them.

Let’s work on the assumption that he kidnapped you.

Perhaps you were already partially romantically involved but your family would never let you marry someone like König, so he stages a robbery and takes you as part of the ransom.

One he has no intention of accepting any payment for because he’s never letting you go.

König’s monstrous proportions make it easy for him to physically overpower aggressors – other bandits, outlaws, authority figures.

However, he does pose something of a hazard to himself because there’s (much) more of him to hit.

Luckily, he’s straight out of a situation the minute it gets sticky – as if he just disappears into thin air.

Just one of the reasons why he’s called the Phantom Outlaw.

Not to be confused with Ghost, who is also an outlaw but never leaves a trace (or a witness), making his reputation far more ghoulish than König’s.

Though, König does excel in the fear factor, his sheer size and notoriety – his trenchcoat and mask the very visage of Death – forcing everyone who sees him to relinquish their goods in exchange for their lives.

Speaking of, König’s ability to swing thousands in cash makes for a happy home life, given how he spends much of his fortune on you.

Clothes, jewels, literature, instruments, automobiles: you name it, you’ve got at least a treasure trove of each.

Even if you try to resist these gifts, König refuses to let up.

“Can’t have my precious little Engel going without, can I ?”

So, in return, you typically handle all the chores, though König insists you don’t have to.

“It’s not like we can hire a maid to do it for us, can we ?” you tell him. “Especially not when there’s a handsome bounty on that even more handsome head of yours.”

Said bounty is what makes it difficult for the two of you to stay in one place for too long.

And whenever you move, you always try to make the house a safe space for König.

Blankets in his favourite chair, his favourite meal on the table for him whenever you know he’s going to have a rough day, a bit of fun before bed, etc.

You can tell whenever he feels really comfortable, because he takes up three quarters of the bed, just sprawled out like a rapidly growing infection.

And you always fit neatly against his side. Or on his chest.

König calls you his “Little bunny” (or “Bun-Bun”) because of how small you look when you’re nuzzled into his chest.

He never takes you, or anything you do, for granted.

You don’t know this (so keep this a secret between you and I) but König watches you when you sleep. More than you’d think.

Truth be told, the outlaw life terrifies him.

Sure, he has the swagger and the notoriety to make off with thousands in gold, jewels, and lavish material items, but, really, his greatest, most prized treasure is you.

There is only one of you. You cannot be bought, or replicated, or found in the wild like an ore of purest diamond.

Simply put, König’s success is entirely down to the fact that he can’t be caught lacking.

If he ever was to, he knows he’d lose you. Whether you’re taken by a stray bullet in a shoot-out or your town’s rangers come to tear you from his cold, lifeless grip, König takes every precaution to circumvent these tragedies by remaining the fastest hand in the west. And the most ruthless.

Even for an outlaw, his kill count is exceedingly high.

And it’s no coincidence that the numbers began to climb after he met you. Fell in love with you.

People who he’s seen giving you lecherous stares, or those he can sense have poor intentions, he’s taken them out the back and absolved the world of their presence.

And, at the end of every excursion, every execution, every haul, the weight of the world falls from König’s shoulders as he comes back to you.

He takes his mask down around you, hangs his hat upon the coat rack. You’re the only person who he shows his face to.

But, whenever you can tell a fragment of the day resides pinned in his mind, shrapnel of his self-inflicted lifestyle, you make sure to service him before bed.

How he likes to be serviced can change on a day-to-day basis. He’s not fussy.

The only thing that changes is whether he wants to be handled by you or if he wants to slam you into the pillows.

Possessive sex <333.

“Tell me you love me,” he rasps into your ear, pinning you to the mattress with his body, making escape an impossibility to you. “Tell me I’m the only one that will ever have you like this,”

As stated previously; he has a pair of handcuffs and knows how to use them.

Or, if they’re too far out of reach and he needs you bound now, he’ll use rope. Or even just his hands.

Eye contact. The whole time.

It’s as if a different person inhabits him when he gets like this; something dark and jagged, no mere demon, possesses his form. And, by extension, yours.

König’s not stopping until you’re full, he’s empty, and he’s confident you’re not leaving the house for the next few days.

But, when König is feeling fragile, he lets you take the lead.

Just lies back while you’re on top of him, calling him your “Good boy”, “my Prince”, “my protector,” – anything that reaffirms that he holds a great deal of importance in your life.

More often than not, he ends up with tears in his eyes.

Nobody has ever been so gentle and loving towards him as you have. And coupled with how you’re taking him slowly, taking the time to make sure you’re hitting all bases and he’s thoroughly loved, sends him over the edge.

Kiss his tears away and his soul leaves his body.

It’s times like these that, more than anything, König wants a simple life. A paroxysmal desire to lead an ordinary existence where the two of you can live together happily, without the threat of being chased out of town every few months.

And, maybe, one day, even have a family together.

Until then, König will continue to dream, to give you a lifestyle of sapphires and gold and every delicacy the human mind can conjure.

And whenever he looks at you before he leaves, he sees his good luck charm, the light at the end of his tunnel. And, most importantly, the embodiment of love itself.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[inbloomwriting]

If I had you II Jamie Tartt

Plot: Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. Reader thinks it's the easiest thing in the world. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Notes: This is inspired by the song "a daydream away". It's 5.2k words of pure friends-to-lovers sweetness.  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. It’s a chore to love him, the real him not the overly confident golden boy he portrays on the pitch. Just look at his track record, that just proves his point. Sure his mom loves him, he never questioned that, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for her. He’s convinced he’s made her cry more than once with yet another stupid decision. Then there’s his father who loves nothing more than to belittle him and lay out all his flaws for him and the world to see. And if even your own dad doesn’t love you, how can you expect others to. 

So maybe that’s the reason he doesn’t let anyone close enough to even begin to love him. Sooner or later they’ll figure out how much of an effort it takes and that he, of all people, truly isn’t worth it. 

And maybe, perhaps, that’s also the reason he doesn’t allow himself to explore the feelings he harbors for his best friend. He tried to deny them to himself for so long. Tried to pass it off as pure, unfiltered friendship. That’s bullshit though. He knows the feelings are there and there is no use in denying them. That doesn’t mean he can ever allow himself to act on them though. He’d just fuck it all up, the way he usually does with everything he touches. 

The shiny hardwood floor feels cold and smooth as he sits leaning against the kitchen counter, legs stretched out before him. A smile is permanently etched onto his face as (Y/N) talks about something that happened at her work today. He should listen, it’s probably a fun story judging by the way her giggles make her stop talking every few seconds. He should listen but he is so enamored with her that he can not pay attention to anything else. In a perfect world, in a world where loving him was easy, he’d lean over and kiss her. He'd kiss her silly and she’d kiss him back and life would be sweet and it would make sense. In that perfect world, she would love him back the same way he loves her and it would be easy and he’d deserve her. 

But that is not the world he’s living in. That is not his reality. Just a beautiful daydream he allows himself to escape to every once in a while. Loving her in a daydream is safe. It’s secret and quiet and there is no hurt there and no rejection. 

“Why are you grinning like that, huh Tartt?” 

She asks before taking a sip from the beer bottle clasped tightly in her hands. It’s an unusually hot summer’s day. One that makes it impossible to do anything but sit on the floor in as little clothing as possible and drink one cold drink after the other. Even if that means getting a little tipsy on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Nothing. Just happy to have you here. Missed you.”

“We didn’t see each other for a week and you already missed me?”

He misses her the minute she leaves. It’s like his heart isn’t complete if she isn’t there but he can’t really say that can he? Friends don’t tell friends things like that. And a friend is all she is. His best one but still. Telling her any of this could jeopardize their friendship and Jamie doesn’t think he could handle life without her. Not when a week already felt like torture. 

“Well yeah, I’m proper shit at cooking. I need you to feed me.” 

“Oh, is that so? Thought Mr. Bigshot footballer could get free food at any restaurant he fancies.”

She’s teasing but never mean and never hurtful. That’s something he cherishes so much about their friendship. His feelings, his fears — all of it is safe with her. There is no hurt or pain or fear. Just her and her friendship and warmth. And a pair of open arms ready to catch him whenever he stumbles and falls.

“True. But some fancy place in Mayfair will laugh at me if I ask them to make me dino nuggets, won’t they?”

Her laughter, he decides then, is his favorite sound in the world. It makes everything feel alright even if it’s just for a fleeting moment. He needs to keep his feelings locked up in that beautiful daydream because he can never lose this melody her laughter creates. And anyway, he wouldn’t even know what to do if he ever really had her.

— It’s not like she’d say yes anyway.

“You’re probably right about that,” she says and leans her head against his shoulder. And though it’s muggy and hot and he’s sure he can feel their skin stick together, he doesn’t shake her off. She’s part of his heart already, might as well melt into one completely. “You want me to make you some nuggets?” 

“Nah,” Jamie replies and places a soft kiss on the top of her head. Friends kiss friends on the head all the time, everyone knows that. Right? "That's okay. Already had a Kebab with Roy earlier.” 

“You guys are becoming friends then? Should I be worried I’m gonna lose my best friend status?” 

Jamie lets out some mix between a chuckle and a scoff. As if anyone in all the world could ever replace her. What a ridiculous thought. 

“Well he doesn’t make me nuggets, does he? No alphabet soup either. So no. Not yet.” 

The little shake of her fist she does in victory makes him grin even bigger. He must look like a damn fool. 

“I should probably get going sometime soon, I need to finish up some work and do laundry and do all that boring adult stuff that’s waiting for me at home.” 

There are lots of things he should be doing instead of sitting on his kitchen floor on a Tuesday afternoon getting half drunk on cheap beer and half on his overwhelming love for her. He’s sure there are a bunch of texts and emails waiting for him to sort through. Keeley might be popping a blood vessel soon if he doesn’t answer her about that brand requesting to work with him on some ad campaign. And he will get back to her — soon. 

Right now it doesn’t matter. Right now all that matters is him and (Y/N) and their little corner of safety and — home.

“But I don’t want to.” 

“Yeah, me neither. Just want to sit here with you and — “ 

“ — hang out?” 

“Mh. Hang out.” 

That was not what he wanted to say but none of the words ghosting through his head are meant to be spoken out loud. They are his to feel and think and keep hidden and quiet. 

“Good, we can hang out a little longer I think.” 

And he’ll take what he can get. All the precious minutes she grants him he cherishes. 

Right now could last forever and he wouldn’t mind at all.

Not as long as he’s with her.

Some early 00s pop song is blasting from the speakers of the bar. Everyone’s in good spirits and drinks are flowing freely. 

(Y/N) is leaning against the bar talking to Colin, laughing about something he said, radiating joy and happiness. 

She loves his friends, his boys, his family. Jamie loves that she loves them so dearly, so fiercely as if they are her own family. At this point, they might as well be. She remembers all their birthdays, drops by unannounced with cookies for everybody, cheers them on louder than anybody else. Hell, she even gets Roy to smile and that’s quite something. She’s as much a part of the AFC Richmond family as she is a part of his life. 

“Jamie-Jam-Jam what are you sulking over here for,” her voice cuts through the crowd and the music as she slides into the booth next to him. She looks gorgeous in the hazy neon lights. Then again, she always looks gorgeous. 

“Not sulking. Just — thinking.” 

“About what?”

You. He’d say if he was honest and not such a coward. You and how much I adore you and how hard it is not to tell you any of this and fuck up our friendship. 

“Was considering getting me nipples pierced. I’d have to take them out though and I imagine that would be quite annoying.” 

“Probably,” she agrees and nods her head before adding “It would look sick though.” 

“Right? I reckon it would.” 

She laughs at that and once again it shakes his entire world. Like little earthquakes inside his heart. 

Her voice is quieter after her laughter subsides, soft and gentle, and with the loud music it feels like her words are only meant for him. “I like this,” she says almost wistfully.

“The song? Who’s that, Rihanna?” 

“Not the song, silly boy. This — “ she gestures around the room towards all their friends, dancing and laughing and having the time of their lives. And then she motions to the two of them, secluded and safe inside their own little bubble. “escaping our busy lives for a moment.” 

“Lot of journalists would disagree with you there, love. That my life was busy.” 

“They don’t know you like I know you.” 

There’s a sincerity in her eyes, a warmth, something he can’t quite explain. It’s familiar and foreign all at once. 

“No one knows me like you do. You had pity on Jamie Tartt, messy little prick from math class. They just know Jamie Tartt, the footballer from Richmond.Still a prick but now with better hair.” 

Before he knows what’s happening, her hands take hold of his face and gently rest against his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. Really look at her.

“I never had pity on you, Jamie. I thought you were funny and exciting and infinitely cool. That’s why I wanted to be your friend. And I was right! About the funny part, not the cool part.” 

“Obviously.” 

“But I never took pity on you. I don’t think you realize how highly I think of you. Now let me get a sip of that drink.” 

He’s still in some sort of haze brought on by her words when a groan coming from her shakes him from his thoughts. Her face is all scrunched up in disgust as she places his glass back on the table. “Ew, what the fuck is that?” 

“I’m not sure, honestly. Barkeeper said she’d mix me a Jamie Tartt and I was like fuck yeah, a drink named after me.”

“It’s disgusting. Did you shag and dump her at some point? Like, is she mad at you for some reason?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman before in my life … so yeah maybe.” 

Shaking her head with a smirk on her face she grabs a hold of his hand and pulls him out of the booth and towards the bar on the other side of the place, the one with the older male bartender with the impressive beard.

“You ever had a thing with him?” she asks as she leans against the counter, trying to get the man’s attention.

“Nah, I’d remember that facial hair.” 

From then on the night tastes like tequila and beer and it feels like a warm hug. She doesn’t join in on all his drinks, stops herself after a beer and a shot, but she does join him in all the other shenanigans. Like when they make up ridiculous backstories for strangers and have a laugh about some corporate douchebag trying desperately to get with some woman who clearly has no interest in him. 

“Henry from accounting.”

“Nah, that’s Charlie from HR.” 

“Well, either way, Maisie from South Shields is not interested.” 

He could stay here forever, laugh the night away. Drunk on happiness, on love — and also on quite a lot of booze. 

“Come on, Jamie-Jam, “ she says and hands him his jacket. She’s all gentle hands and gentle eyes. “Let me give you a ride home.” 

“We’re going home?”

“I think it’s time. Think someone had a little too much.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He is but also not. He’s sorry for being a burden — again. He’s not sorry for letting himself enjoy a night of unadulterated happiness with the people that mean the most to him.

“No need to apologize, Jamie. I’m glad you had fun. Now come on, silly boy. I’m tired.”

And when they step out of the place and into the night, all sweaty and hair a mess, he thinks that of all the things his eyes have ever seen, the best by far is her. Then and always. 

London passes by in a blur as (Y/N) drives them towards his house. All the bougie buildings and the iron fences and the trees in the parks, it’s all one kaleidoscope of color, a smudge of light and shadows. 

It’s not like he can really focus on that though. Partly because all he can think of is her and partly because he’s absolutely wasted. Mostly her though. Definitely mostly her.

“Did you have a good time?” his voice slices through the comfortable silence.

“I always have a good time when I’m with you, silly boy. Did you?” 

He rests his cheek against the smooth leather of her car seats and regards her with an infinite sense of wonder and adoration. In any other situation, this position would be deeply uncomfortable but he’s numb to anything but the beating of his heart and the strings that pull him towards his best friend.

“Obviously. Had my best girl with me. “

“Keeley?”

His eyebrows raise in confusion. “Keeley? No you numpty, you!” 

“Me?”

“Why would you think I was talking about Keeley?”

He wishes he could see the look on her face. This is not a car conversation. 

“Uh, she’s the only real adult relationship you ever had and you had a poster of her on your wall. Makes one think things. In fact, I believe that poster is still up.”

Jamie can’t help but scoff at her words. Not in a dismissive way necessarily but this whole conversation seems so silly to him. Yeah, he loved Keeley in a way and yeah she’s still one of his best friends but never has she come close to (Y/N). Keeley hardly ever got to see the real Jamie, the one that didn’t hide behind this larger-than-life footballer persona. (Y/N) met him before that persona even existed.

“Stop thinking things then. You’re my best girl, always.”

He still can’t see her face since she is looking at the road in front of them, but he can see the smile pulling the corner of her lips upwards, and for the moment that’s good enough for him.

Her car comes to a stop in front of Jamie's house but while he drags himself out of his seat, she stays put. 

“What are you doing, love?” 

“Dropping you off?” 

“Are you not coming inside then?” 

“Do you want me to come inside? We spent pretty much all week with each other, I thought you might be sick of me by now.” 

A ridiculous thought if he’s ever heard one. He could never get sick of her. They could be glued to each other for the rest of eternity and he wouldn’t mind one bit. 

Even in his drunk state of mind though, he realizes that’s not something he can tell her. That crosses out of friend territory. So he just chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Do I want you to come in? What a dumb question is that? Of course, I do. I have a bag of those disgusting spicy crisps waiting for you in my kitchen.”

“In that case —” 

10 minutes later they’re sitting on his couch, her legs across his lap, munching away at those god-awful crisps as some overly dramatic American home renovation show flickers across the TV screen. 

In moments like these, love lives here. In these walls and on this couch. And it’s terrifying because thinking about love also makes him think of the possibility of losing it. But every once in a while, Jamie lets himself feel a tiny bit of it. Just enough to keep him going. 

“Hey Jamie,” she speaks up, her face only illuminated by the light coming from the TV. She’s wearing his shirt and he wills himself not to focus too hard on that because that will cause images to ghosts through his mind that he can’t allow himself to ever think about. Images that cross every line ever drawn when it comes to friendships.

“Yes, love?” 

“You’re my best boy too. Not sure I ever told you.” 

He doesn’t answer, not in words at least. But he squeezes her legs as they rest on him, and he hopes she knows. Oh god if only she knew. 

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. (Y/N) knows he thinks so because he let it slip once or twice when he was drunk and his words were all jumbled and his mind was all hazy. 

And every damn time it breaks her fucking heart. Because loving Jamie Tartt is the easiest thing she ever did. It comes as natural as breathing. It feels like a nice ray of summer sun on her skin, sizzling and exciting and warm.

Loving Jamie is a gift.

Now if only there was a way she could make him realize that. But every time he lets himself be even a little vulnerable he is so quick to cover the cracks with stupid jokes or misplaced arrogance before a real conversation can happen. 

She needs him to realize it though. To understand that loving him isn’t difficult. Because how can you tell someone you love them and make them understand just how much they mean to you when they deem themself unlovable? 

Turning her head to the side she looks at his sleeping face. Somewhere between Fixer Upper and House Hunters, he fell asleep, leaving her alone with her thoughts. He’s snoring something awful but she still thinks he’s adorable. Jamie has a mischievous, lovable quality to him that just makes you open your heart to him whether you want to or not. Yeah, sure, he’s let people down, he’s done shitty things, but he’s trying. He’s learned and he’s changed and the price for being young and stupid and cocky should not be a life spent questioning if you deserve other people’s love. 

Jamie Tartt is not hard to love. But loving him and not being able to tell him because he doesn’t love you in quite the same way, that’s just fucking cruel.

The air is loaded with static. Everyone is on the edge of their seat. (Y/N) is huddled in between Rebecca and Keeley, holding their hands and nervously biting at her lip. Emotions are running high as Richmond is playing Manchester. Correction — they’re not only playing them, they are kicking their asses.

It’s 2-0 for Richmond and they’re already 1 minute into the 3 minutes of additional time. If Manchester doesn’t get a miracle, Richmond wins. The thought of that makes a fluttery feeling spread in (Y/N)’s stomach. If this is how she feels, she can only imagine what Jamie must feel like. 

1:30

2 minutes

2:30

3 minutes.

“Blow the whistle. Come on. Blow the fucking whistle.” 

And as if he heard her pleading, the referee blows the whistle giving Richmond their win. 

Laughter and cheers and songs fill the air as every Richmond fan is on their feet celebrating a win they so desperately wanted and that the team fought so hard for.

The win Jamie fought so hard for. 

She tries to find him across the pitch but there are too many people, hugging and celebrating, too much noise. She just hopes he knows how proud she is.

And she hopes that somewhere out there his dad is watching. Sees him win, with the team he doesn’t approve of. Watches him succeed and be the man he never was and never will be.

She hopes somewhere deep in the inky black pit that is his heart, he finds a glimmer of pride for his only son, even if it comes entirely belated.

Jamie has won quite a few matches by now and it’s always a great feeling but some wins stand out. This is one of them.

His heart is filled with gratitude and pride, and his entire system is flooded with adrenaline and utter euphoria. He’s positively buzzing as the team gathers in the hallway leading toward the locker room. Some of them have been whisked away to give short post-match interviews — as if there is much to say other than how fucking awesome it feels to win — while the others are waiting for them to come back so they can all meet up at the locker room for some after match briefing. 

“Superstar, you did it!” 

Her voice carries through the hallway above the rest of all the noise. Like a siren calling out to him, she can’t hear anything but her, it all shifts into the background.

She weaves through the crowd like a fucking goddess in blue. He always thought she looked good in the Richmond colors and seeing her with his name on her back never fails to make his heart shutter with delight. But there’s something about today that makes this even more special. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline of winning. Of making his mom proud and proving his dad wrong. Of proving himself wrong. Maybe it’s seeing her in his kit, with his name and his number smiling that radiant smile of hers. Maybe it’s a combination of all these things. But something makes his brain short-circuit for a moment. Just a fleeting moment but long enough to make him push through the crowd until he’s standing in front of her, matching smiles on their faces. Just long enough for him to softly place one hand on her waist and pull her closer, so unbelievably close. Just long enough to cradle her face in his other hand, gentle and careful, like the most precious thing in the world. Long enough for him to place his lips on hers in a kiss so sweet, so long in the making, it feels surreal. It feels like he’s still stuck in his saccharine daydream.

And then reality snaps back and he pulls away, opening his eyes to a smiling (Y/N) staring back up at him through curious eyes.

“Silly boy, what was that?” 

She doesn’t sound upset, in fact, his delusions might even make him think she sounds delighted. 

“I — “ 

“Jamie, locker room. Let’s go, boy!” 

Ted’s voice calls out to him all full of glee and jubilation. The guy sounds even more chipper than usual and that says a whole lot. 

Pulling away from her feels like having a bubble suddenly popped. Every what-if that has been clouded by post-win euphoria suddenly bears their ugly head again. Sometimes Jamie wishes his thoughts weren’t so fucking loud all the time.

“Go, your coach is asking for you. I’ll see you at the after-party. We’ll talk then, yeah?”

Only they don’t because, for some inexplicable reason, Jamie avoids her like the plague.

Everyone is gathered at the bar for celebratory drinks, it’s a private function, just the team and family and associates. Spirits are high, everyone’s excited. And all things considered this night should be magical. Only it’s not, because once again Jamie refuses to let himself be loved.

Rejection tastes bitter. It’s sharp and metallic. Rejection also tastes quite a lot like tequila.

The salt, the lime, the liquor — it’s supposed to make her feel better. It’s supposed to mend the cracks in her heart, if only for a night. 

It doesn’t do any of that, it only makes her fucking sad.

How foolish of her to believe that he’d feel the same, that he’d finally pick up on the hints she’s been dropping for over a decade and reciprocate the feelings. Maybe they never stood a chance anyway. Maybe —

No, actually fuck that.

He can’t do this, it’s unfair. You don’t kiss someone, not like that at least, and then ignore them for the rest of the night. Especially not when that person is your best fucking friend.

Bumping against people left and right, she makes her way across the room to stand next to a smiling Jamie deep in conversation with a pretty girl, who (Y/N) is quite sure is the sister of one of his teammates.

“I need to talk to you.” It’s not a request. Not this time. This conversation has been a long time coming. It’s time, she thinks, to finally be brave. One can only swallow down their feelings and emotions for so long, until they come bubbling to the surface like a fucking volcano rolling over Pompeii. She just hopes that once the dust settles there will be hope instead of death and destruction.

“Uh, kind of in the middle of something here.” 

She can’t stand this part of him. This fake, unbothered cool guy who has no empathy for her or anyone other than himself. She hates it mostly because this is not the real Jamie, just some cardboard cutout version of him.

“Too bad, that'll have to wait.” 

She doesn’t give him another second to resist or shake her off, just grabs onto his arm and pulls him through the crowd and towards the exit.

The nightly London air feels cold against her skin, making her shiver as goosebumps appear on her arms.

“What the fuck is going on with you?”

“What the fuck is going on with me?”

He can’t be serious.

“Yeah. I had something going there. She was well fit too.”

The urge to smack him across his stupidly handsome face is seriously fighting her desire to kiss him again right about now.

“Good for her but you owe me a conversation.”

“(Y/N), I — “ 

The way he rolls his eyes so dismissively, so suave and cool, it’s like a dagger straight to the heart.

“No, you know what — fuck you, Jamie. I know you have a hard time letting people in completely, and I get that that’s something you have to work through on your own time but the way you're treating me right now is really shit. You can’t kiss me like that and then run. I’ve been waiting for that fucking kiss for over a decade.” 

“What?” 

He looks at her with the signature Jamie Tartt look of confusion and innocence. Like a damn puppy or something. And if she wasn’t so annoyed, so hurt, maybe she’d find it endearing.

“I’m in love with you, Jamie. I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. I’ve been in love with you since I was sat next to you in class and you asked me if Pythagoras was that French guy. I’ve loved you when you were just a chaotic teenager. I’ve loved you when you won your first game and when you lost. I’ve loved you when you signed your first contract and when you made a complete fool of yourself on that ridiculous tv show. And I love you now. So to think you finally picked up on it and reciprocate my feelings was — I was so happy, Jamie. Only for you to completely ignore me for the rest of the night. I don’t deserve that. Not from you of all people. “

“Will you let me talk?”

“No, I’m not done yet.”

“Alright, go on.”

“I love you, Jamie and I know you think I shouldn’t and that you don’t deserve it, but guess what? I don’t care. I love you anyway and I am not asking for permission to love you. That’s not how it works. And I don’t love you despite your flaws, I love them too. Even your stupid 2003 looking haircut and your ridiculous clothes that make you look like a male Bratz doll sometimes. Sorry people in your life made you feel like you had to earn it just because they couldn’t see how phenomenal you are. Just you, Jamie Tartt, messy little prick.” 

Silence wraps around them like a thick blanket as a moment passes, then two. Jamie raises his eyebrows in question.

“Can I?”

“Yes, you can!”

“Jesus, alright. Stop yelling at me.”

“Well, I’m upset!”

“And I’m sorry about that. I never meant to upset you. Ever. I just — do you remember that one birthday, I think I turned 12, when me dad showed up and he was just being his usual asshole self and he made me play against him and then yelled at me in front of all the guests when he won? “

She sure does. Even at 12, she wanted to put her tiny little fist straight between Mr. Tartt’s eyebrows. “Yes.”

“You sat with me when I went to my room to escape. Refused to leave my side. Called my dad a wanker and you made me laugh. Then you got me a piece of cake and we ate it on my bed while watching Spongebob.” A smile plays on his lips as he reminisces about that day.

“I was 12 and I didn’t know a lot but I knew that night that I was in love with you and I immediately promised myself I wasn’t gonna do anything about it. Losing you is the scariest thing I can think about and my track record with people is pretty shit, honestly. So yeah I didn’t want to even risk fucking up with you. Rather have you as a friend than not have you at all.”

“So why did you kiss me earlier after all?”

“For one, you looked so fit in blue, with my name on your back. I was full of adrenaline and just so fucking happy. I uh — I think my mind was telling me that it’s finally time to be brave for once.”

Hearing him say it, it’s something she never expected but always hoped for. She’s played this scene out so many times in her dreams and yet she doesn’t know what to say or do now that it is actually happening.

“So what now?”

“Well, if you let me, I was gonna kiss you. Because if you think that other kiss was great, this next one is going to change your life.”

As those words fall from his lips, (Y/N) can’t get close to him quick enough. Pulling him towards her by the front of his shirt. Closer and closer until there is no room left between them and he gently nuzzles his nose against hers. 

“Jamie Tartt?” 

“Hmm?”

“Change my life!”

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thought so. And maybe a part of him still does and always will. But kissing (Y/N), his best girl, the fucking love of his life, it feels quite easy to let himself be loved. 

Feels as easy as breathing. And for once in his life, the reality is so much sweeter than the daydream. 

[dreamwritersworld]

The chore. Part 2 (Sully family x reader)

this is part two of my first story! :) I decided to add the healing and growing of our character to ease the pain and panic that mayyyy or may not come in the next part 😭. I hope you enjoy it! 💕

Tuk had only just now fallen asleep since it’s been a couple of hours flying. I know that sooner or later she’s going to be hungry so I decided to take a break and go out hunting for our meal. I laid her down safely with my Ikran while I went to go hunt. It had only been an hour since I left so I whistled to see if Tuk was at least up, patiently waiting for a whistle back. She wasn’t thankfully but I was indeed so tired so I just decided to set our meal and future meals for the flight ahead.

I slept longer than expected not as much as Tuk though, I could only hope that the trip wasn’t taking a big hit on her. So I started preparing the meal that I hunted and started a fire, moved Tuk even closer in case she was cold. We ate and got back to flying. A couple of days passed and I can tell as much as Tuk tried to hide it, she was tired of flying and searching for “a place to settle”. She just constantly asked me “are we almost there?” All I had to give her was “We’ll see Tuk-Tuk! Just hold on goofball! :)” I don’t have a plan but I hope she doesn’t notice, she should be at peace and I can’t cause anymore trouble, especially since I’m the reason she wanted to leave the forest.

It wasn’t until a couple of hours I felt tears and a frustrated sob that I noticed Tuk was over hiding how she felt. “Im tired of flying. I want to go home. I want to settle wherever you said home would be. But we can settle another place can’t we? I just want a home.” I couldn’t do anything but hold her while she cried because I knew I had to keep going. I soon realized she was starting to catch a fever, a really bad one so I was in a hurry to find a clan to approach.

Her fever was only getting worse she was hanging on but I didn’t have much time. I feel tears build up, feeling like I let her down until I see huts I think we’re close to something. I hear calls, announcing a newcomers arrival, my arrival. I hold Tuk in my arms crying begging for help. “I do not come to harm anyone Please. Help my sister is sick and it’s only getting worse.” I see the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik coming towards us and I take a kneel to show some sort of my respects since I am holding Tuk in my arms.

“Why do you come here on our island for?” The woman speaks. “I seek a place to call home. A place to settle. I understand I am different but I will adapt. WE will adapt. We will learn your ways but please accept us. My sister is burning up and- please just heal her please.” The two turn to each other and discuss with their eyes as I wait and hold Tuk tight “Sister it hurts, everything hurts”

“I know Tuk, I know it’s ok just hang on” they turn back to me and the Tsahik says “Come with me child.” I follow quickly, hearing the Olo'eyktan urge everyone to return to the normal “Everyone go back to your duties!”

I stand by watching her do her work by the time she’s done Tuk is feelings better but quickly rested. The Olo'eyktan walks in as soon as she is done and she turns to me and says. “My name is Ronal, this is my husband Tonowari. How long have you been out flying?” I look up nervous to speak “M-my name is y/n. Who you just treated is Tuk. We have been flying for a couple of days now.” Silence is between us as she contemplates her next words “You seek a place to settle yes? Well you must learn our ways as you already stated. You must not fall behind.”

“Yes, yes I understand thank you. Thank you truly” She takes a moment to look at my face “Child, what is that scar?” I watch as she touches it. “Oh, it was from a fight I was in. Trust me I don’t do those anymore.” She laughs at how quick I was to cover it up. Then they decided that although we were newcomers, we shouldn’t have our own mauri since we were young. I couldn’t argue this since we are their guest, so they settled us comfortably into a far corner of their Mauri.

Finally a real sleep.

I woke up to a meal being cooked and settled on the table. I had greeted the leaders and introduced myself to their children. The girl, Tyseria lead the conversation asking about Tuk and I’s interests and hobbies and we all seemed to get along until it was time to clean up and I was asked to stay longer while the two siblings did chores. Tuk had walked away into our corner to start beading a bracelet with the new materials Tyseria gave her.

In a gentle voice Tonowari said “We do not mean to bring harm but we must know what went wrong seeing as you are a child taking care of a child. How has it come to this?” I looked down slightly saddened taking in what he said as it was true and seemingly sad. Although I had to be honest and stay true to my word, I told them everything, every detail, every word ever spoken about why I fled the forest.

“Well then y/n…we will take care of you and house you. It seems as though it is in your nature to protect the innocent, you have a strong heart. So I am sorry that on that day, the day you were once again shut out and left to die. No one was there to lift you up into their arms, the way you lifted others like Tuk into yours. No one cared for you the way you should’ve been taken care of then, so allow us to care for you now. It’s time to be at peace Y/n. ” and for the first time ever it was ok to cry, cry tears of happiness and comfort. I was finally going to be at peace.

So that’s what they did. We soon became daughters to them. I grew close with Tyseria, took care of Tuk and surprisingly got along with Aonung even if we seemed to always leave conversations with both of us blushing like crazy. At some point it was hard, to lose old habits. I was so used to being on my own and taking care of Tuk I sometimes lost sight of how others perceive me…just a kid.

*flashback*

I unknowingly over worked myself, fighting to show I can still stay on the island, a war nobody even knew was happening. Once Ronal told me to stop working as my hands were starting to bleed, I accidentally got upset and told her “I can’t stop I need to keep going, stopping means I don’t care anymore.” It wasn’t until then Tonowari and Ronal pulled me aside to talk is when I realized this isn’t like before, I’m not alone.

“All right, your not alone anymore and your not a bad person for leaving. You did not come out of the womb as a frustrated person Y/n. You. Y/n, came out of the womb a beautiful child who unbeknownst to her had a couple of wires crossed. So when you have finally received true love. The love you were always meant to have, it set something off in your brain that wants to deny it and keep fighting. You have been fighting a losing game since the first day you were in your other parents care. So you can sit here and continue looking me in the eye and say as calmly as can be, “I’m fine, it’s not big deal, I’m not thinking about it anymore and I am no longer upset at my past.” That. My child, is the disease of silent frustration. It is deadly. The hardest part about having this disease is that no one in the world can see it besides the ones that hold you close. And that is why we are here to show you we care, we are not leaving, we are not going to ignore your feelings, and we will go through this together. As long as we are here no one can hurt you” *

It was moment like those when I needed someone to pull me out of my old habits, even Tyseria and Aonung did.

*Flashback*

I was looking over Tuk while she slept, it had only been a couple of days since we arrived but I was still pondering over the fact that I could’ve lost her if I had no solution to her fever. “What are youuuu thinkin?” I heard Tyseria giggle and say. I stood quiet considering if I should even say anything with the two siblings in the room but I decided to anyways “I thought Tuk would be the one…finally.” Confusion was written on their faces until Aonung said “the one what y/n?” I looked back down “the one who’s life I didn’t harm.” I immediately feel their hugs as Aonung said “you didn’t do anything wrong y/n, you did the best for her.” *

So yes it was difficult, but I made sure we knew their ways and observed everything to show Tuk to be better. We got many eyes and compliments because we learned at a quicker rate and speed than anyone at the island ever did. I didn’t want to overwork Tuk, I could never do that to her so instead while we were doing extra practice I taught her in games, the same way we did in the forest. It was going good and she maintained a smile until we were entering our home and I mentioned us having to practice breathing techniques. That’s when she got frustrated.

“No Y/n I can’t do it. It’s hurts. I can’t practice breathing. It’s easier for you to do when you already know the ways. This is the only thing I can’t and won’t do.” I sigh contemplating my next words, this is about survival and if I need Tuk to be safe I need her to learn how to breath underwater especially since she is surrounded by it. “Tuk please I know it’s hard and trust me I don’t know the ways fully either but we will learn. Together.” She’s silent considering what I’ve said “You made it so that we don’t have to fly anymore Y/n, so we that we can be together still. We’re safe now.” I glance down and smile “yea I guess we are” we sit for a moment enjoying the view of the beach. “All this. It’s worth it. All those times you would ask me if we’d find a home, all I could ever tell you was “We’ll see” and your face would fall every single time.”

“It’s better than saying yes and lying to me.” Tuk admits. “That’s what I told myself. But you want to know something I didn’t tell you? I never had a plan, I never knew where we were going. I never knew anything. I just fought and fought and fought and hoped you didn’t notice. I hoped we’d find something before you did. Did I do a good job?” My voice cracks as I start to tear up hoping I didn’t ruin her. “Of course you did sister! Are you crazy?!” I laugh and continue “When I was about to leave and you swore that you didn’t want to stay. Tuk, I fully believe if you hadn’t come I’d probably be lost. I was right to hear you out back in the forest, you made a request and I just had to trust myself and you to make the hard call. To take you with me. How did I get so lucky?” Tuk smiles and says “You made it so we can so thank you. For everything” I take a moment to stare at her and hold in the morning before saying “your welcome, for everything.”

We clean up the Mauri for awhile and continues the night like normal instead this time I felt a small hand reach out to me. “Can I..? Could I maybe sleep with you tonight.” Something we hadn’t done it in what feels like years. “You know like I did when I was little.” I agreed inviting her in. “Yea I-I’m not scared, just tired.” I smiled at her trying to reassure me while she hugs me in silence “….Tuk you’re still little” I hear her laugh and sigh “yea I know” and we drifted off into sleep.

Hope you enjoyed my loves :)!!! 💕

[nomi-c]

Drawn to you

{Bang Chan x Reader}

Wordcount: 3,5k

Genre: Best friend to lover, Smut, Pet names (sweetheart, babygirl, baby), cursing (fuck) dominant Chan, oral male receiving, unprotected intercourse (but on the pill!), fingering, trainee chan

A/n: as always with my ff's this ff isn't meant to represent the artist in any way or form.

-Minors don't read-

--

Ever since highschool Chan and you were best friends, you fell for him the moment your friend introduced him to you but you never acted upon them. Instead you watched him fall in love, and helped him through his first break up, and as time passed you saw him fall in love again, and eventually you saw him break up again.

You always were his first supporter, and his shoulder to cry on. Years and years have passed, but you? You stayed the same.

Sure you dated here and there, but it never lasted. Something always felt off and you didn't stick around long enough to find out what it was.

So right after college you and Chan decided to move together, since both of you couldn't afford the apartments on the market by yourself and you didn't mind each others company in the least.

And to say the least, it all worked well.

Both of you would split the bills and the chores and you also did movie evenings every other Saturday if your schedules allowed it.

You wished you would've done a move on him when you first met, but truth to be said you were just too scared to do so. The many bad encounters you had left ugly scars on your body just as much as on your trust towards people.

With a sigh you try to put an end to your spiraling thoughts about chan. You close your phone and place it on the nightstand before you get out of your bed. Watching the latest tiktok trends doesn't help you with the Intruiging couple trends that keep on showing on your feed.

Once up, you put on a oversized hoddie over your tanktop and dress in a random pair of sweatpants to do the chores. Since today (if you could already count it as that- seeing as it only was shortly past midnight) it's the fresh start of a new week, meaning it's your cleaning week.

Mentally checking the list you and Chan made years ago, and that you memorised and knew by heart, you knew the first point too well... cleaning the bathroom.

Both of you liked that point the least but it had to be done anyways, and this week it was on you again to keep the bathroom clean.

After leaving your room, you put your headphones in and head to the storage chamber to get the cleaning stuff you'd need.

Better get the least favorite chore done first, you think to yourself while loading your hands and hoodie pocket with cleaning supplies.

Everything around the apartment is dark, as expected at this time. Which surely is completely normal for the most people you knew... but definetly not for Chan.

Your brows furrow in confusion when you see no beam of light coming out of his room. Usually at this time he is still awake producing music for his group's debute soon, or he is with Minho and Hyunjin on parties like the famous club in town where he always wants you to accompany him to.

Shaking your head slightly you rule out the second thought right away. He would've told you if he left the house just like he always does. You think to yourself as you walk into the bathroom quietly.

Chan always used to be famous among girls, and admired and looked up to by boys up until now, and honestly? You could more than understand why.

All it took was one look of him, and one dimpled smile of him to make all the girls swoon, though he never was a player and took great care in making that clear in the thoughtful way of his. He just was a naturally flirty guy which many girls often misunderstood.

And when it came to Boys he was always a strong shoulder to lean on as well as a protector and through and through the most loyal friend to count on.

He often takes the responsibilities and matters in his hand which naturally made him the leader of basically everyone around him.

Knowing all of that, it didn't surprise you when weeks ago he happily told you that he got the position as leader of his upcoming group where Hyunjin and Minho were also a part of.

After switching on the Light you get to work fully focusing on scrubbing the floor first, before you would move to the toilet and while the toilet soaks the shower and for the very last you plan to scrub the sink. As always the music got the best of you, and soon enough you started humming and dancing to the songs.

You almost finished cleaning the floor when unexpectedly a pair of arms sneaks their way around your waist and pulls you back softly.

You try to surpress a scream as you instinctively drop the mop. Just when you're sure you calmed down enough to speak, you rip your headphones out. "God Chan you scared me to death!" You say with a annoyed grimace and a slightly shaky voice, while holding your hand to your still fast beating and aching heart.

When you look up your heartrate picks up again, but this time for a whole different reason. Your eyes connect with Chan's in the big mirror across from you, and you see his wet hair drip on your bare shoulder from where it runs down your arm slowly as he leans his head down to rest it on your shoulder.

You try to ignore the dimpled smirk he gifts you with as your eyes fall on his muscular and veiny arms that are still draped around your stomach.

You also don't fail to notice that he's not wearing a shirt as well, which for him is pretty usual except the fact that he never hugged you wet and shirtless before.

A bunch of butterflies starts roaming in your stomach at the sudden proximity of you and him and his natural body scent that you swooned over one too many times over the years.

You knew Chan could pull girls left and right without even having to try, but you never noticed just how effortlessly hot he was without even trying.

Maybe it's the fact that he's shirtless. You think to yourself, but know damn well that you saw him like that countless times before.

Your thoughts took you back to your expedition to tiktok and the new trend you saw called the Kabedon challenge. After all he's the only guy you would want to try any if those couple challenges.

What if I ask-

You mentally slap yourself for even taking this into account, as you try to regain composure which considering the fact that he is basically flush against your back, half naked and drenched in water, it's safe to say its damn near impossible.

You feel your cheeks heat up at your highly inappropriate thoughts towards him, and the euphoria you get from his slightly tighter grip around your waist.

"Why are you cleaning at this hour, sweetheart? shouldn't you be in bed already?" He asks you with a soft voice and a dimpled smile, as his thumb mindlessly starts drawing slight circles just above your belly botton.

Heat pits in your lower regions accompanied with a stong pull that causes you to press your legs together to ease some of the pressure that's building up in awful speed.

Embarrassment creeps up Inside of you at how heavily you respond to every touch and undefinable glance at you right now. You could blame it on the music, because you never listened to innocent songs, but you had to admit the songs only slightly ramped up all the emotions you've been carefully hiding away for years.

Shaking your head slowly to regain some of your senses back, you try to answer Chan's question, that damn near slipped from your mind.

"I wanted to clear my mind. Why are you here at this time? Shouldn't you make music or be out with minho and hyunjin?" You ask him quickly while trying seem calm and collected which you're pretty sure you failed miserably.

His soft Chuckle makes you turn around towards him, and you can't help but gasp as you take in all the godly glory in front of you.

"I just got out of the shower, i think you-" You hear him talk, but you can't be bothered to listen as your eyes slowly scan Chan from his dripping wet hair, over his beautiful and defined face, to his plump lips, and finally all the way down his neck where the remains of water rolled down his well defined abs.

Almost hypnotised, you follow the little glistening droplets making their way down his v line, where they get absorbed by his low hanging black sweat pants and boxershorts.

Only when you hear him slightlyclear his throat, you realise where exactly you're been staring at. Your eyes snap back up to his instantly, where you meet his deep brown eyes.

Embarrassed from being caught staring at your Best friend's body like he's a 5 star michelin dish, you quickly turn your back on him and swipe stray strands of hair out of your heated face.

While trying to avoid looking at him again, you bend down to quickly pick up the mop and get back to work. "You know, I thought I was by myself because there was no light from your room..." you begin to say but trailoff when you sense him right behind you.

When you dare to look at him again over the big mirror, you see his eyes trail over your face and neck slowly but intensely, as he turns you back around by your shoulders softly.

Your heart starts racing in your chest when his eyes land on your trembling lips.

The same lips that to your demise always began trembling when you got really nervous. And you knew in the way Chan's eyes visibly darkened, that he knew that too.

Seconds passed while you just stood there unable to move while Chan musters your face closely.

The temptation almost eats you alive to just close the small distance and risk it all. You always had little flirts here and there but it never got this far between you. You could swear by the intensity of his stare that he could actually hear your hammering heart.

And when he actually starts to lean in slowly, with his eyes trailing from your lips to your eyes and back, your brain malfunctions. "Can you pin me up against the wall?" You blurt out loudly.

Instant embarrassment hits you when you realise your words. You could've said anything else but this??

You try to hide your face behind your hands, but Chan is faster. Holding you by the wrists he pulls you close to his chest.

When you dare to look up at him still ashamed, you see a dominance and fire in his eyes that you never saw on him before "Say please." He demands with a dark and raspy voice.

Your eyes go big and you start to back up instinctively with a heart rate going surely over 100mph. You felt like the peaceful deer in the beginning of twilight that got caught by Edward and surely became his snack.

And before you fully realise what just happened, you find yourself trapped in-between Chan and the sink. For one split second you wonder if this all is a way too realistic dream, and you would wake up all too frustrated.

You take a quick flat breath when you quickly try to correct your slip up. "Chan, i didn't mean-"

Your words get stuck in your throat when he puts a finger over your lips to shush you. Your hands instinctively take a hold on his hot and damp chest to support your weak legs. "Don't tempt me sweetheart, I might actually take the offer." His voice suddenly dropping an octave.

"I-" You gulp hard in an attempt to ease the knot in your throat. Your mouth seeming dryer than the Sahara when you lick over your lips in an attempt to calm yourself down.

Chan's hot gaze tracks every slight movement of your tongue with sharp intensity before he leans close to you. "Perfection." Hearing his smoky voice right next to your ear causes your emotions to get the best of you as your knees start trembling with anticipation.

Taking a deep breath you back up enough to look into his eyes. "Please." Your voice almost sounds like a whine, which you knew would haunt you for months later on.

Chan's muscles flex for a second. "You drive me insane babygirl." He growls in your ear.

Your head falls back at the vibration of his voice on your neck. "Please pin me up against the wall Chan." You begg as the new nickname hits you like a truck.

A heartbeat later chans hands grip your waist tightly as he spins both of you around. His Hand wanders to the back of your head to soften the impact when he presses you up against the wall.

His eyes bore into yours when he pins your hands over your head single handedly, and his left leg finds its way in-between your legs.

His hot breath fans your neck softly, as his soft lips stroke over your soft spot in a feathery soft way. "Tell me to stop before I completely lose it baby." He mumbles in shallow breaths while his left hand makes its way to the hem of your top, his fingertips softly grazing the soft skin on your stomach.

Your eyes close shut at the sensation. You had boyfriends before but gosh none of them could make you feel like this, no one could compare to him. Deep down you always knew it, right from the second your eyes met. Hell you already were drenched and close to the edge and he hasn't even really done anything yet.

Taking together all courage you have in you, you open your eyes with a clarity you never felt before. Your lips find his in a tender kiss as you roll your hips against chan. A breathy gasp leaves your lips and your head falls back when you feel his big and rock hard erection pressed up against your stomach.

Both of you shudder equally at the sensation, and with a blast you see his selfcontrol evaporate. Pulling you close by your neck, his lips crash on yours in an all consuming kiss.

Your tongues instantly fight for dominace in a battle you were bound to lose and soon enough, he releases your wrists. Your hands instantly find their way into his damp hair pulling him impossibly closer to you while his hands grip you by the hips to lift you off the ground. "God you have no idea how long I imagined this to become reality." He tells you between pants.

You can't help but moan his name as you tug his hair hard, his words and the way he kisses are taking you high above the clouds and hit you like a train at the same time. "Please don't stop." You whine between kissing breaks.

"Wouldn't dream of it baby." He mumbles in your neck before taking off your hoodie, leaving you in your white tanktop with nothing underneath.

When chans heated gaze falls on your clothed breasts you feel his Dick twich on your still covered core. His breathing quickens and a strangled "fuck" leaves his lips.

Your nipples already start to hurt from being neglected which he to gladly takes care of when he pinches your nob softly though your top.

You almost scream in extasy while your back arches and your hands dig in his broad back. "Chan plase, i need you." you whine while your hands greedily travel down his defined abs trying to reach what you desire the most. With another growl he lifts you from the wall and walks both of you both to the shower in quick steps.

Without breaking the kiss, he turns on the water before he yet again presses you against the wall. When he sets you back down to the floor his right hand grabs your neck to pull you closer to him. Your hand however has a mind of its own.

Sliding your small hands into his pants, you wrap your hand around his pulsating erraction and start stroking down his length to the very tip where your thumb circles the tip and swipes away his precum.

His head falls back as a broken moan leaves his lips. "Fuck Y/n." Your core contracts painfully by the heavenly sounds he makes when you additionaly start to kiss and lick down his defined abs making your way down to your knees.

Once down, you look back up at him with big and innocent eyes that doesn't match the evil smirk that decorates your lips.

Another growl leaves his lips at your sight. All wet and your tits on display beneath the white tanktop. He leans against the wall to cover you from the stream of the rain shower you both insisted on getting when you moved in.

Still smirking, you pull down his sweats and boxers in a swift motion, enjoying the view of his big erection springing free before your eyes.

You don't waste a second and slide your tongue along his shaft and peck his tip before you lick your lips to get a tiny taste of him already. A needy moan leaves his plump lips along with a incomprehensive needy mumble.

You feel his leg muscles flex under hands when you wrap your lips around him and start bobbing your head in a slow pace, while closely observing his facial expressions.

Chan shudders notably, a loud moan leaving his lips. With another painful tug in your core you add your hand to cover all of him where your mouth doesn't reach just yet.

His right hand that doesn't support him reaches down to your head where he softly caresses you.

Looking up at him once again, you take all of him in and hardly suppress a gag. He moans your name loudly as his hand starts to fist your hair harshly, as his hips start to rock instinctively towards your mouth.

Your watering eyes connect as you pick up speed and ignore the barely hidden moans and gags your neighbors would surely hear.

Your hand travels down to your pants, which you pull down quickly and insert a finger soon enougn a second one in yourself to ease your heavy want to feel him deep inside of you. Matching chans pace you pump your fingers at a fast pace while each moan of you makes him curse throaty in-between moans. The drizzling water from the shower and worries about your neighbours being long ago forgotten and overpowered by each of his moans and thrusts of his hips.

You feel your climax building up strong and rapidly when he twiches inside your mouth indicating that he's close, and right before both of you fall apart, Chan pulls out and pulls you back up heavily panting. Your forheads connect as the warm water starts to drizzle on your overheated body once again. "I want to burry myself deep inside of you and fuck you senseless baby" nodding, a whine leaves your lips when you mouth a incomprehensible answer.

Heavily panting chan leans forward and kisses you passionately before he pulls back. "are you on the pill?" He asks you as his lips kiss down your body and his hands pull your tanktop down just enough for him to take one of your nipples in his mouth and start softly sucking on while his other hand massaged the other.

Your back arches as your hands grip chans hair tightly, once again feeling on the edge.

Collecting your last braincells, you answer his question. "I was about to stop taking them.... but wanted to end the package first-" Chans doesn't wait for your full answer when his lips crash back on yours as he rips your shirt off of you in a flowing motion before he tosses it somehere around you.

You feel him smirk against your lips. "Good girl"

Without warning he lifts you up again and slides into you, streching you out to the limit. Both if you moan at the incredible feel of it.

He kisses you fiercely as his hand flicks and squeezes your aching nipple. He holds still inside of you and only when you nod against his neck he starts starts to move.

Your eyes roll back by the exquisite stretch with each strong stroke of him. Your mind goes more blank with every hard thrust, each kiss, and each rough moan that leaves his soft lips.

Your mouth hangs open and mumbles his name in-between your loud moans. Chans lips travel to your neck where he kisses and sucks on your sensitive spot causing you to yelp as your core contracts against his length. "Chan....Close..." you pant as your whole body starts to shake for the second time and you start seeing starts.

Chan grabs your wrists again and pins them above your head, his hips shuddering slightly. "Did you want to get pinned against the wall like this?"He asks you with yet another strong thrust of his hips and squeez of your breast.

You whimper nodding your head heavily. His lips catch yours fiercely once again as he pulls on your bottom lip with a slight tug. "With me being inside of you, fucking you senseless and claiming each and every piece of your beautiful body as mine?" A particularly loud moan leaves your lips at balls deep thrust that emphasised word mine. "Y-yes."

Chan picks up even more speed kissing you all over your face and neck as he pulls your left leg up further to reach you deeper and thats when you fall apart, his lips land on yours in heartbeat to catch your scream of relieve as the tidal wave hits you hard. With every kiss and every thrust, and roll of his hips you whisper his name against his burning skin and shortly after you he reaches his high too while calling out your name.

Between small kisses and each moan of your name you both come down from your high. You don't know how much time has passed with both of you kissing each other and you still being burried deep inside of him, before he slowly slides out of you with a shaky breath.

Your eyebrow rises when you feel him getting hard against your stomach once again. After lifting up your eyes again you see him smirk before his face gets serious, and he gives you a kiss on your forhead, His hand caressing your cheek softly. "I like you Y/n." He tells you in a gentle voice, as he turns back into the sweet, loving and caring boy you knew.

A big mile spreads on your lips when you begin to speak. "I like you too Chan, ever since the moment I met you."

Chans eyes widen in surprise before he breaks out into the widest smile you ever saw on him.

His lips connect with yours in a gentle and loving kiss as he carefully carries you out of the bathroom. You give him a questioning look as he guides you to his room.

Chan laughs softly, as he opens the door skillfully with one elbow. "I fucked you as your best friend, its only fair that I love you as your boyfriend now."

You Kiss him softly and smile against his lips. "Boyfriend" you repeat in a dreamy voice.

Your gasp in surprise when Chan lays you down on his bed softly. The dim Red led lights hugging his delicately sexy frame in all the right ways when he leans above you. "Chan- we drench the bed...."

Chan kisses you slowly as his hand draws soft circles on your stomach once again. "Doesn't matter baby, we have you bed and the couch as well, which I'm sure we will definitely make good use of too later."

--

Authors note: I tried to proof read the ff for any mistakes, but maybe I didn't catch all mistakes.😅 But I still hope I did a good job with this ff that spontaneously roamed my mind. (After stumbling on that pin me against the wall part from one of his lives) 😂

[amethyst-halo]

decided i want to work on everything stays au so post time stop oh my god why is this so LONG

when the bros start fighting after failing the family harmony, grandma rosiepuff steps in and stops john from leaving. when they try to point blame, she puts her foot down and tells them to stop and apologize to each other. all of the older boys are too stubborn to, but baby branch feels guilty and takes the blame for everything going wrong. floyd, spruce, and clay all go to comfort him, and john realizes what he's doing is ruining the band for them. he apologizes to all of them, recognizing he'd pushed too hard and set too high a bar.

they decide to take a break from the band and focus on just being brothers instead. everything is okay for a while; they goof off and mess with each other, help their grandma with chores, etc. as brothers will do. branch is a happy little thing, though pretty anxious, and while his brothers still fight with each other, things are good. but rosiepuff gets taken the next trollstice, leaving the boys on their own.

the boys are devastated, of course, and things are pretty rough for a while. john and spruce share the brunt of rosiepuff's role as the parental figures, doing their best to comfort the youngest three and keep the pod running. branch is struggling the most with comprehending what happened, as he hadn't lost anyone before, and doesn't fully grasp for a while that rosiepuff isn't coming back. things are okay eventually, but it's a hard time for a while.

john is still keeping everyone on track of their chores and such, but mostly likes to let them goof around. he still writes music in his off time, and likes to help branch plan his bunker hideout. he prefers being outside most of the time, and likes to find weird bugs and plants to show his brothers and teach them about them.

spruce leans way back, no longer feeling pressured to keep up his heartthrob persona. he takes up the cooking and gets super good at it, and overall is very relaxed. he likes to climb high into the tree to bergen-watch at the top of the cage, and sometimes talks one of his younger brothers into going up with him.

clay indulges in his interest in learning and graduates super early; he's the first to graduate troll school (which im just basing on the us school system bc thats what i know aksjdhjk), with john having dropped out when rosiepuff was taken and spruce still in his last couple of years. while he still likes to goof off with his brothers, he takes on a more serious persona with other trolls and likes to keep up with his sad book club. he becomes pretty good friends with the older princess, viva.

floyd still wants to go solo, and ends up doing little gigs and such around the tree in his spare time. he doesn't want to leave his brothers, so he never gets huge, but he manages to set himself a name. he's fairly quiet and struggling a bit with the always-happy-ness of pop trolls, but he does his best to keep it to himself, at least around branch.

branch himself is a fairly happy kid. he's got a paranoid streak, though, and struggles a lot with being alone, so he's usually stuck to one of his brothers. he's fairly shy with other kids and doesn't seem keen on making friends, but he gets coaxed out of his shell sometimes. he loves to plan his hideout and share his ideas with his brothers, who are all getting a little concerned about how much he wants to hide.

a couple of years after the band's hiatus, branch and spruce are doing laundry up on one of the higher branches of the tree. branch is enjoying himself, singing a song john had taught him while spruce works. he doesn't notice the approach of a bergen until spruce shouts, and the next thing he knows, he's falling out of the tree as spruce is grabbed in his place.

branch is sure if he hadn't been singing, this wouldn't have happened. he had brought the bergen to them by singing, and now his brother was gone.

clay and floyd find him at the base of the tree, and they know something is wrong. branch blurts that it's all his fault and spruce is gone, and they try to tell him it isn't his fault. they take him back up to the pod to john, who won't believe that spruce is gone. john goes to look for him and clay has to follow, leaving floyd to comfort an increasingly distraught branch. john initially thinks its a bad prank by spruce and clay, but clay gets through to him that spruce was really taken.

when they get back to the pod, floyd is all but freaking out, and branch is silent and gray.

things are more subdued after that; john and clay get more serious with their younger two brothers, floyd loses a lot of his energy for things and mostly just tries to make sure branch is sleeping and fed, and branch... he's a shell of his former self. he refuses to speak, let alone sing, convinced he'd only get his other brothers taken. he pours all of his focus on planning his hideout bunker, refusing to try and play with other kids or go along with his brothers' activities.

it gets a little better over time, as the initial grief fades. branch is still gray and refusing to speak, but he is slowly talked into acting like a kid every once in a while. his brothers also get better over time, john and clay's fun sides and floyd's energy slowly returning. john pushes himself to be better faster, determined to be there for his brothers, but it does lead to clay and him getting into more arguments, and floyd sees right through his facade most of the time. but it gets better, and branch's old colors even begin to return, albeit slightly.

with spruce, he gets taken to the bergen castle, where he manages to escape the bergen's hold. he has a little cat and mouse chase, but he squeezes into a hole in the walls and gets away. in the chase, though, he lost his pathway out, and all of the bergens are looking for him, so he can't escape right away. he's forced to hunker down and wait, so he starts exploring to find a way out.

his main hiding space ends up down in the basement, close to bridget's room. he doesn't dare let her know about him, but he does listen in on her struggles with her work and emotions.

he makes a few attempts to escape over the next while, but each time ends up with him being chased back into the wall. he manages to figure out his escape path, at least, but all of his attempts are squashed one way or another. one of his attempts to escape nearly goes wrong as chef catches him and almost kills him with her knife, but he manages to move away so all she catches is his tail, causing him to lose most of it.

a couple of years after spruce is taken, the escape tunnels are finished. john does his best to keep all of them together, but when they get out on the other side, clay is missing. john tries to go back in to find him, but the tunnels start to collapse and he's pulled out of there without clay. they wait, and wait, until king peppy begins to leave, meaning there aren't any more trolls to save.

the brothers are devastated; john blames himself for losing track of clay and basically shuts off, and branch loses any color he'd gotten back. with john near unresponsive, floyd takes charge of keeping them with the group and such, distracting himself from his grief.

spruce hears about the trolls disappearing from his place in the wall, and while he's glad they seem to have escaped, it seriously deters him from trying to escape himself, as he's not sure he could find them. he loses hope, which means he loses his colors.

clay, meanwhile, managed to escape the tunnels with viva. he wants to go back to find his brothers, unsure of if they made it out, but viva stops him. he's forced to hope for the best, as he and viva find the other trolls who were separated, forming the group that becomes the putt-putt trolls.

everything is... hard, for the first few years. branch's anxiety and paranoia only gets worse, and john dory is zoned out most of the time, so floyd is forced to be the one in charge, making sure his brothers are taken care of and doing whatever he can to help with setting up the new village. floyd eventually gets sick of it and encourages john and branch to build branch's bunker, figuring it'll keep them busy. it works, and john slowly comes back to himself while helping branch dig and plan.

spruce is pretty lost back in the castle; he knows the place like the back of his hand now, but he kind of resents it because he just wants to be back with his brothers. he's spent a lot of time near bridget by proxy, and one night when she's despairing over her feelings and workload, he accidentally gives himself away. to his surprise, she isn't as eager to catch him as every other bergen, and is more curious about how he'd escaped for so long. the two end up talking more; spruce finds himself worrying about her like an older brother, and she makes a point of sneaking him more food and other things he needs where she can in return for his company.

at some point, spruce nearly gets caught again, getting cornered by one of the cooks- the chef is exiled by this point- who nearly kills him again. the side of his face and his ear get caught and injured pretty badly before he can get away, and he manages to get to bridget's room before collapsing. bridget is wildly alarmed and does her best to patch him up, but the injury scars and his hearing is damaged on the one side. still, he's incredibly touched by her care for him, and while he's not as bright as he used to be, his colors do come back.

back in the village, john and branch build most of the bunker together, floyd pitching in where he can while also working on his music and running errands and such. when branch is older and more independent, john decides to start making trips back to the tunnels in an attempt to find clay. floyd isn't thrilled, worried that john is still stuck in the past and not letting himself heal, but he can't really stop him. john doesn't have much luck anyways.

floyd himself is struggling a lot of the time under the pressure of taking care of branch and john while also maintaining a social status and dealing with his own grief, and his colors dull slowly over the next several years. it's gradual, to the point it's hard to notice, so john isn't super perceptive to it. eventually, though, floyd gets sick of john ditching them all the time to dig in the tunnels and they argue, and floyd finally blurts all of his struggles in the heat of the argument. he crumbles, the last of his color fading, and john feels awful. he does his best to apologize and comfort him, and promises he's going to take care of them properly and stop going back to the tunnels, stop being stuck in the past when the present needs him.

i don't have much planned between that and the start of the first movie tbh. branch stays gray and silent, john does his best to care for his brothers, floyd does gain dull colors again at some point and keeps up with his solo career and is probably the most social of the three of them. spruce is kinda just surviving in the castle walls. clay's doing hot girl putt putt shit. etc

movie 1 is fairly the same to start. the party lures the chef in and trolls are captured, but it includes floyd, who attended the party to be polite, and john, who tried to go save him. branch and poppy go after them and branch is even less inclined to put up with her shenanigans along the way. im not gonna lie i haven't managed to figure out much of any of the movies from there.

i know that spruce reunites with his bros while they're trying to rescue the snack pack and such, and is a major advocate for trolls and bergens not being as different as they think.

between movies 1 and 2, about a month before 2 starts, floyd sets off for a gig at mount rageous for his solo career stuff, which :) is fine :)

i don't have much else figured out yet for some reason it is eluding me way more than any other au has so. i'll figure it out aksdjhjkhdjfh

[lizz-crimson]

So No Head? (Shinnok's Head X Reader Part 3)

We back!

Summary: Shinnok spirals as he realizes he actually does things for you, even when you don't ask.

Tags/Warnings: Cursing, knife wound, Deliberate decapitation, Shinnok spiraling, Netflix, grocery shopping, Two Johnny Cages oh god, goofiness, Shinnok eats a lot, gender neutral pronouns (please let me know if there's any mistakes!)

Words: 2149

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

---

It was an odd thing. To see a once powerful Elder God scarf down so much food. Apparently, losing a chunk of his power had made Shinnok's apatite skyrocket. As he savored every bite of cheap, frozen eggrolls, you hoped he didn't mind they'd come from the main back of your freezer. He'd eaten you out of house and home, and it had only been a couple days since he regained his body.

As you finished up your own meal, you asked," You get enough to eat?"

Shinnok, with a mouth full of eggroll, nodded. You nodded in turn, sitting back in your chair with a sigh. Your fridge was empty, as were your cabinets. All except for a small container of cinnamon, which Shinnok practically hissed at once he tried some.

Besides the food, Shinnok had behaved okay. He slept on the couch, quite a bit more entertained now that he could scroll through Netflix himself. You two argued over what to watch now and again, but you both ultimately settled on animal documentaries each time. It was hard to find the fallen Elder God intimidating when he was so enthralled in lion pride dynamics.

"Y/n, what are you making for dinner?" Shinnok asked.

You huffed, sitting up. Shinnok's bottomless stomach was slowly killing you. And considering he ate a whole cake, it was probably doing the same to him.

"Water soup," you replied curtly. Shinnok raised a finger, about to ask, but you cut him off with your hand. "You've eaten everything. There is no more food."

"Lies. I know you must have something."

"I don't."

"Then what will I eat?"

"We. And nothing." You push yourself up and out of your chair and start doing the dishes, taking Shinnok's empty plate. Shinnok sputtered as if your lack of food was a malicious joke. You again raise your hand, splashing him with a bit of soapy water. "There is no more food. I'll buy more tomorrow."

Shinnok groaned. He used to be all powerful, feared, and worshiped. Now he had to conform to a mortal's schedule. "Fine, I will accompany you," he huffed. If he was made to wait for his meals, then he'd at least get to pick what he wanted.

"Yeah, that's a hard no," you said.

"What? Why?" Shinnok asked, his voice daring to grow angry when he looked like a hellish priest.

"No offense, Shinnok, but not even Wal-Mart would let you inside the building," you replied, now drying the dishes. "I'll go by myself. I'm sure I'll be back with something you'll like." He'd eaten everything else; no doubt he'd eat whatever she'd bring home.

Shinnok pushed himself up from his chair, his hands going behind his back. "Bah.." he grunted, then sat on the couch. You rolled your eyes and started putting the dishes away. He was a whiny sonofabitch. Still, you two tolerated each other.

Shinnok wasn't accustomed to all this, and even with his body back, he couldn't help but feel frustrated. Damned Quan-Chi for taking his throne like that. He ought to just kill him himself. Even so, as he looked your way, he stared. You'd become so… normal to him. Even though you went against literally everything he originally stood for. He didn't mind waking up to the loud music you played while you took your morning shower. He didn't mind watching the apartment while you were at work. He didn't mind 'earning his keep' by doing chores. He'd become some kind of well-treated servant. Some butler. Some… what was that one anime called?

He quickly scrolled through the shows he'd watched on Netflix, and the anime he was thinking of came into view. Ah, yes, househusband; that was the word.

As the anime played automatically, Shinnok's brain seemed to let the word sink in. Particularly the husband bit. He glued his gaze to the TV, praying to himself that the warmth on his face was from embarrassment and nothing more. Maybe talking to you had damaged his brain, as he thought would happen originally.

Suddenly, your body landed beside his. "Is that 'The Way of The Househusband?' Move it; I wanna watch!" you said, nudging Shinnok aside with your hip. The fallen Elder God sputtered and nearly jumped to the opposite end of the couch.

"Don't just-!" He was cut off by a Coke being shoved into his hands.

"Found one for you," you said, your eyes on the TV.

Shinnok's nose curled. He snapped his head back to the TV, about to open the can, but paused.

"You didn't shake this, did you?" he asked.

"I might have."

The next morning, you were at the grocery store as promised, list in hand and mailbag on your shoulder. You'd started using it as a plain old purse after Shinnok got his body back. Since he was no longer a head, you figured it could be of better use that way.

Which is probably why you didn't notice the familiar weight in the bag.

"[Y/n], are we at the store yet?"

"Oh my god!" you yelped. You frantically open the bag and see Shinnok's re-decapitated head looking back at you. "I-what-are you serious?!"

"Shhh!" Shinnok shushed you. "Someone could hear!"

You were appalled. Quickly, you covered Shinnok up and dashed into the bathrooms. You're quick to lock a toilet stall behind you.

"What the fuck?" you ask, pulling Shinnok out of your bag. He looked just like he did before he got his body back.

"What?" Shinnok asked, not understanding your confusion.

"Where's your body?" you asked through gritted teeth, prying anybody else in the bathroom just thought you were high or something.

"Back at the apartment," he replied similarly.

"What the fuck do you mean 'back at the apartment'?" you laugh out of shock.

Meanwhile, a beheaded Shinnok lay limp on your couch, covered completely by a blanket. You just thought he'd been sleeping..

Shuttering at the thought, you placed Shinnok back in your bag.

"Let's just… Lets just get this over with…"

During your shopping, Shinnok bombarded you with many questions about all the different foodstuffs he spotted while peeking out of the mailbag. Luckily, it was early, so there weren't many people in the store yet. You tried to make the shopping trip go by as quickly as possible, and any time you spoke to Shinnok, you put your finger to your ear as if speaking via Bluetooth call.

You groaned as you looked at the prices of all the fresh produce. Prices had gone up lately, and you had no interest in paying five dollars for a head of lettuce. You pushed your cart on by.

"I thought vegetables were important for you humans?" Shinnok said, raising a brow.

"They are, but the price is awful, so we'll wait for a sale," you said. "I oughta just grow my own at this point."

"Why don't you?"

You sigh. "We don't live in the countryside, Shinnok. Don't you know how much space you need to make a garden?"

"Then move there?"

You caught the attention of a few staff members of the store when you straight-up belly laughed. You were quick to shut up and push your cart along. You lowered your head, whispering.

"Believe me, if I had the option to, I'd be deep in the Appalachian Mountains by now. I'd rather deal with cryptids than New York as a whole."

You spent the rest of the shopping trip explaining what cryptids were to Shinnok.

Later, you're carrying two mountains of groceries to your apartment door. When you finally unlock the door and push it open with your forehead, you were frozen in place as Shinnok's body hung limply off the couch. The blanket that had been concealing him had fallen to the floor. You close the door behind you quickly, making sure nobody sees. You fling your bag onto the couch, with Shinnok groaning in displeasure as he rolls out.

"I assume you can attach yourself back, right?" you asked, hands on your hips.

"Yes, yes.." Shinnok rolled his eyes. "Come. I'll need your aid."

You nodded and picked Shinnok's head up. "Now what?"

"Just hover my head over the stump of my body, and I'll reattach," he instructed.

Lowering yourself to your knees, you set Shinnok's body up a bit, then hover his head over the stump of his neck. At least he hadn't bled all over your floor..

A red glow appeared between Shinnok's two body parts and began to swirl around, engulfing both his head and his neck stump. You closed your eyes when the light blinded you. When it died down,… Well, when it died down, you were still holding Shinnok's face, attached to his body once more.

The two of you kind of just.. looked at each other for a bit. Shinnok, feeling a rather uncomfortable sensation in his chest, broke the silence when he couldn't take it anymore.

"You can let go now."

"Right, sorry!" You snatched your hands away. Shinnok stands along with you. Both of you kept your heads turned away, as you do. Luckily, your gaze fell to the mountains of groceries, and you used that to transition away from this awkward situation. "Come on, let's put these away," you said.

Shinnok grunted curtly and began helping you put all the food away.

Shinnok couldn't help but look back at you, sneaking glances. You had been good to him. Something he didn't deserve in the slightest. And as he put the spices in the order you told him to, arranged the frozen foods in the freezer, and helped you cut up pork for dinner,… he couldn't help but feel like he wasn't doing enough.

He hated that feeling. Why? Why did he want to do something for you, his jailer? Why had he still been teaching you dark magic? Why had he not returned to the Neatherrealm and overthrown Quan Chi? Why did he want to sit next to you on the couch? Why does his fucking chest hurt?

"OW!"

"Shinnok?" Your head snapped in his direction. He'd been cleaning the dishes. It was odd, as you hadn't even asked that time. The bit of blood on his palm and the kitchen knife on the floor alerted you, and you went over to him.

"I'm fine," Shinnok said. He was about to put his hand away, but your own hand took it before he could. He froze.

"Always do knives by themselves when doing dishes, okay?" you said, taking a mini-med kit from the counter and dressing his wound.

There it was—that sensation in his chest again. You bandaged his hand so skillfully. You'd done this before, clearly. Likely to yourself. Stupid mortal. Stupid mortal, with your gentle hands and good food. Wretched mortal for the kindness. Abhorrent mortal for the.. the.. well, everything!

"…Right," he replied.

That night, Shinnok lay on the couch. You'd long been asleep. You had work tomorrow, after all. Shinnok already agreed to vacuum the apartment while you were gone.

Damn it all. He wasn't helping himself by doing all these things for you. He felt like it wasn't enough, which he hated.

After another hour of spiraling down a tunnel of why, how, when, and curse words, he came to the decision that he would need to do something else for you. Something other than doing dishes or helping cook. He needed something big, something that would sate his desire to just do things for you.

You'd left your phone on the kitchen counter. Shinnok had a pretty good idea of how to use it. It turns out Netflix can teach an old god new tricks. Now… where was he?

Chats: Two Johnny's, One [Y/n]

[Y/N]: Johnny Cage.

Annoying Johnny: Yo, [Y/n]! Dude, you will not believe the hottie I have in my bed right now! Wanna pic?

[Y/N]: This is Shinnok. I have no interest in your hottie. I need something that requires your wealth.

Old Man Johnny: Woah, what? What the hell are you doing with [Y/N]'s phone?

[Y/n]: Why are there two of you?

Old Man Johnny: Long story now what the hell do you want?

Annoying Johnny: Chill out, old me! Clearly Shinnok saw my new movie on Netflix and wants in on the next one!

[Y/n]: No. That film was horrendous. I demand you both listen to my words!

Shinnok growled at the phone screen. Two Johnny Cages… What was his mother thinking?

He jolted when the phone began to buzz in his hand. He quickly tapped the green symbol and put the phone near his ear, like he'd seen in the movies.

Johnny Cage, the older one, spoke.

"What the hell are you planning?"

"Something for [Y/n]."

There was a pause on the other line.

"For [Y/n]?" Johnny asked.

"Yes. For them," Shinnok replied.

Johnny rubbed his temples.

"Okay. Hit me."

---

Shinnok: ew feelings *barf emoji*

Heyo, hoped you liked this part! I plan on one more part to this so stay tuned! Also this story is now on my AO3 account! The link is on my pinned post! This part will be added there soon!

These vine reference titles are getting outta head *bu-dum-tis*

[quietwingsinthesky]

Jackie and Rose for this prompt sunday?

-🌺 Anon

hellooo flower anon :3 delivery!!!

“It hasn’t been three days, has it?” Rose asks as she watches Jackie make dinner. She doesn’t have what she’d like to make anything worth eating. After all, she wasn’t expecting her daughter home.

“No,” she says. It was a flimsy lie anyway. Rose crosses her arms and leans against the counter.

“Alright. How off was he this time?” Rose says it like it’s nothing, like it’s drinking milk from the jug or not wiping boots off at the door. Time travel is turning commonplace for her, and that scares Jackie more than she can say.

“A month.” What she wouldn’t give for Rose to hear that and say, well, that’s too long, that’s too many times, that’s too many mistakes. Rose laughs.

“He’s getting better!” She tucks her tongue between her teeth. Scarier than time travel is the look in Rose’s eyes when she talks about the Doctor, who she never becomes used to, who never bores her or disappoints her. Who makes himself scarce when Rose comes home and steals her daughter away again at the end of each visit to take her to the other side of the universe. Jackie is afraid she’ll look at her daughter one day and see her pupils replaced with stars. How can Rose find her way back, if that’s all she can see? “I’ll get him for you, Mum. No wonder he wouldn’t come in.”

“Are you staying tonight?” Jackie asks. She wants to ask How long was it for you, and Why do you dress different, sweetheart, I barely recognize you, and Could you leave him, Rose? Stop scaring me, and come home.

“Just for the night,” Rose says as she rolls her eyes. “No extra mouth to feed tomorrow evening.”

“Good, then you’ll do the washing up.” Rose’s mouth falls open.

“Mum!”

Jackie turns to her daughter. Rose stands taller than she used to. She looks for the little signs of wear on her, a bruise faded, split-ends where she hasn’t cut her hair, nails bitten short, but none of them tell her how much of Rose’s life she’s lost. A month, like it feels she did? Or more? Because Rose could disappear for years and years and show up the next morning like it never happened. She’s slipping between Jackie’s fingers.

Maybe that’s what being a mother always ends in.

Rose isn’t safer here, not really. Better than anyone ever should, Jackie knows that. She walked Rose across the street hand-in-hand past the age where Rose complained. She always waited when she was late from school, from work, giving herself gray hairs whenever she heard an engine rev across the street.

And while Rose is still complaining, “-and there’s barely even any dishes, and-”, Jackie hugs her close. Rose goes quiet immediately. She tucks Rose’s head down into her shoulder and holds her breath so Rose doesn’t hear her remember, like she always does, that her little girl shot up just that bit taller than she was. Rose wraps her arms around Jackie. “Is something wrong?” Rose asks.

She asks like the world might be ending. Maybe for her, it always is now.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jackie says, and she reaches down for the unending years and years of annoyance of raising teenage Rose to fill her voice with enough exasperation that Rose just sighs into her shoulder like she’s being ridiculous. “I love you.” Whoever that might be, Rose.

“I love you, too.” Rose is looking at her a little funny still, brow furrowed. “So, did you want to order in tonight instead of cooking?” Jackie’s about to say yes, before she realizes what Rose is trying to pull.

“We aren’t getting take-out so you can wriggle your way out of chores.” Rose laughs.

And out of all the other things Jackie has noticed about her daughter that terrify her to her core, at least she has this: Rose laughs so much louder and so much brighter now.

[blueisquitetired]

As promised, here is the short Dad!Ingo oneshot I promised!

Wordcount: 600ish words

Rated: G (E FOR EVERYONE AHHHH I TYPED THE WRONG THING INITIALLY)

Tags: no in//st, submas, fluff, angst, Dad Ingo, and Author Chose not to Use Archive Warnings

Consider this a mystery box fic.

The Soft Quiet of an Early Morning

Emmet yawns as he stumbles out of his room, the bright morning sun shining painfully into his eyes. He smiles when he spots Akari sitting on the counter, chowing down on an oran berry. Blue juice stains her cheeks.

“Enjoying yourself?” Emmet asks as he ruffles her hair, laughing as she attempts to bite him in recompense. He probably deserves it. He doesn’t care.

Leaving the girl to her early morning snack, he turns on the stove and begins making a proper breakfast, humming a popular tune as he goes. Akari joins in his melody a moment later, and the two enjoy a peaceful morning.

Breakfast is just about done when Ingo stumbles out of the bedroom, his face still covered in pillow creases. The corners of his lips perk upwards as he spots them.

“Good morning you two.” He rumbles out, coming over to lift his daughter from the counter top. “Up early again I see.“

“Maybe you are up late.” Emmet counters, as Ingo tries to wipe the berry juice from Akari’s face.

“I see no reason to rise early on the weekend.”

“Foolish. Your sleep will suffer. Routine is key.”

“Tsk. And you call me the kill joy.”

Akari barks out a laugh at that, and Ingo’s expression turns soft. It warms Emmet’s heart that despite their tragedies, they can still have moments like these.

“Breakfast is ready!” He calls as he turns off the stove, carting the meal to the table. Ingo and Akari follow, the former releasing his daughter to her personal seat, painted a bright red. He sits himself a moment later, and Emmet begins serving up breakfast.

“Did you sleep well?” Ingo asks Akari as they begin to eat, a bit of worry seeping into his tone. “I know your slumber has been quite poor lately. Was it better today?”

Akari just nods, a jerky motion. She’s not much for conversation.

“Good. I am glad to hear it.”

They chat about the battle subway and recent events over the rest of breakfast, Akari eventually wandering away after she finishes her food. She doesn’t give any warning before she does, but that’s to be expected really. Why would she bother?

“She seems to be settling in well.” Ingo muses as the sounds of joyous pokémon waft in from the other room. “I was worried that Nimbasa would be too much for her, as it is such a departure from what everything she has ever known.”

“She does seem happy.” At least that’s what Emmet assumes. She can be harder to read then even Ingo.

“Yes…. yes she does.”

They listen to the muffled shrieks of playing for a moment longer, before eventually continuing with their morning chores, getting ready for the day. Akari only returns when they set out meals for their pokémon, hanging from her alpha gardivor’s arms.

“Did you have fun?” Ingo asks, as Akari is dropped into his lap, her Pokémon wandering off to eat breakfast.

“Mhmm.” Akari responds, leaning against her father.

“That’s good to hear.”

Emmet smiles at the two, daughter and father enjoying each other’s company. He had never expected Ingo to return with a child, but he’s glad that there was at least one positive thing that came out of his brother’s unexpected departure to Hisui.

Still, Emmet wished that such a blessing could have come without such steep costs. That his brother didn’t have to leave, didn’t have to lose his memories and be hurt so thoroughly. That his niece didn’t have to work to belong, didn’t have to suffer because of some callous god.

That Akari didn’t have to die.

That his niece could still be a bright and talkative teenager, and not the silent zorua she had become.

Still.

Emmet would take what he could get.

Better this then nothing at all.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Prompts 10, 11, and 12 with Jason

The breakfast sandwich was mid :(

SOULMATE AU

SHARING CLOTHES

You steal one of his shirts. And of course it hangs loosely off of you regardless of your own build.. jason wont outwardly react that much but he is feeling a little.. giddy inside.. he thinks you look so adorable.. are his clothes comfortable? Did you miss him? He feels a little pang at the idea you might do it because you miss him.. he makes a mental note to try to plan a little forest date for the two of you.. you're open to borrowing any of his clothes just as long as it's not his mask.. the mask is off limits

DOMESTIC

Very calm, if we're not factoring his work in. Its actually rather peaceful all things considered, you don't need to worry about society and its rules. You can just stay in your shared cabin and just. Exist in peace. Jason is fine with doing the more.. heavy duty chores such as fixing the structure of the cabin, and you tend to cook and keep things tidy. You both start a garden together to become more self sufficient, at least more than Jason was before. It's definitely an adjustment getting used to this new life, but it's not the worst especially when you have a giant man at your heel ready to give the entire world to you

You share wounds. Of course before you two found each other Jason never understood why he'd randomly come across random bruises or cuts, not that that it hurt all the much. Hes been through worse, afterall. So imagine his absolute horror when he realizes any injury he gets is mirrored onto you. Every stab, slash, and bash. All of it. Whether you tell him or he connects the dots himself it's almost enough to make the poor man shut down. He has an obligation to keep crystal lake empty, or at least he feels he does.. but he also has an obligation to protect you. He cant give either up.. it's a tough situation and the best he can do is try to be careful when he goes out. But how can he be more careful when his mind starts to become more and more preoccupied by the thought that you've been roughed up due to his past recklessness?