#with simple things like a soft smile and kind eyes

[tcfactory]

Thinking about an AU where the manual did cause Binghe to qi-deviate and ruin his cultivation potential exactly one year after he's taken in as disciple. Seeing that anyone would have suffered the same fate, it wasn't some kind of karmic punishment directed at Shen Qingqiu for being an unpleasant, hateful little thing (the self-hatred and projection is Real in this one) settles something in him, like a broken peace of him is suddenly jolted back into its proper place. It makes him lose interest in torturing Binghe any further.

That does leave him with a disciple that's not suited to his peak in any way shape or form, so clearly the next step is to have one of the other peaks take him off his hands. He subtly puts out word while Binghe is on Qian Cao recovering, so that anyone who might want the brat can take him after the next peak lord meeting, but there really is only one choice.

Out of the peaks with a physical cultivation style, Bai Zhan is out of the question on account of Binghe's ruined potential, Ku Xing doesn't take children this young and, in his opinion, Binghe is just too stupid and trusting to make it on Qiong Ding or An Ding, so clearly that only leaves Zui Xian. If the little beast is fortunate, eating all the spiritual food might even help him recover a little.

Perfect plan!

All he needs is to make up a good enough excuse as to why he allowed the little beast to cultivate from a faulty manual or let him be bullied. And he knows already how he's going to do it: he will let Qi Qingqi make the excuse for him.

"Qi-shimei," he says, the very picture of nonchalance, as if Liu Qingge didn't have a sword at his neck. "I know you assume that any disciple of yours returning to secular life will do so at the side of a powerful husband, but if that was not the case: how would you test if someone of lowly birth and no connections could survive the court environment?" Qi Qingqi thinks about it for just a moment before her mouth twists into an unhappy pout, eyes lighting up with understanding. "Let him go, Liu-shidi. It was not an attempt at murder, merely Shen-shixiong being a crafty old dog who made a test too harsh for Luo-shizhi." "But-" "Scholars, like my girls, are intrinsically linked to the mortal courts, as much sages and exemplars in the four arts as advisors in politics. If one has no allies, then connections must be made. Bullies that can't be fought head on must be outwitted or circumvented." She gives the fake manual a disgusted glance. "Ill intent and sabotage must be recognized, regardless of its source. Without these qualities, someone without proper backing will be dead the week they set foot in court." "Quite. Disciple Luo has failed each and every one of those criteria: he bent obediently to the whims of his bullies, made no friends or sought no help from anyone on or off peak, and kept cultivating from the faulty manual with a bullheaded stubbornness that surprised even me. I fully expected him to realize at least as much, but he proved too simple even for that." He resists the urge to smile when Liu Qingge reluctantly withdraws his sword. It's a sweet, if easy victory.

So Luo Binghe goes to the food and wine peak, where he can make friends, his heart (and to a degree his cultivation) can be mended and his trust in his higher ups isn't scorned or abused, but he never forgets that Shen Qingqiu sent him away because he found him too stupid for his peak. Shen Qingqiu picked him, only him, from dozens of potential disciples and was disappointed. He keeps striving, even years later, to somehow get Shen Qingqiu's approval, taking every opportunity to loiter on Qing Jing with food offerings and all sorts of excuses. He's almost as bad as the sect leader! They do, indeed, bond with Yue Qingyuan over being the frequent targets of Shen Qingqiu's ire.

Then one day when Binghe is around 17 a qi deviation splits Shen Qingqiu into two: the scarred, sharp-tongued and vicious Shen Jiu and the sickly, soft hearted and kind Shen Yuan, and Luo Binghe suddenly feels vindicated in his dogged insistence because the soft Shen Qingqiu likes him! It's literally the best thing in the world!! And maybe sect leader Yue helps him a few times to steal Shen Yuan away on some absolutely-not-a-date picnics, so it's really only fair that he helps him reconcile with the sharper Shen Jiu (Binghe can't see the appeal, personally, but as long as Yue-shibo doesn't want to take his Shen Qingqiu too then he's fine with those two doing whatever).

Everything seems to be going perfectly (QiJiu have reconciled, BingQiu are almost inseparable), but then Binghe leaves the mountain to gather ingredients for the very special meal he wants to propose with, trips and stumbles straight into the Abyss and the rest is SVSSS-typical miscommunication and demon shenanigans.

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

Index: Chapter 1 - Size of A Plum

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 2 - With a ‘U’ or an ‘O’ | ‘Ours’

Trent snuck downstairs carrying his laptop and he quietly crept into the office. He sat in the big chair leaning forward towards his Mac and hit print. He sat there impatiently waiting while trying to think of something cute he could write on the tickets he was printing. He figured it out eventually and jogged back up to your bedroom. Beams of morning light seeped into your bedroom through the window. You rubbed your eyes open to see that Trent was awake next to you. You smiled at your perfect boy in the bed.

“Morning, baby.” He cooed in a hoarse morning voice. The smirk on his face made your heart falter. You covered your embarrassed face with your thin pale pink manicured hands hiding from him. You muttered out a ‘morning’ interspersed between your giggles. Trent shook his head amused at the child-like action. “Happy Valentine’s Day, mummy to be.” He whispered, nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck, his hands caressing your stomach underneath your shirt. “Will you be my valentine, baby?” He whispered in your quiet room. You could feel his heart beating in sync with yours. Everything felt right. He pulled away from your neck to see the smile widening on your face. You rolled your eyes at him facetiously and nodded your head yes.

“You already know my answer. I always say yes, pretty boy” you draped your arms up around his neck and pressed soft kisses to his cheek.

“Want your surprise now or later?” He looked at you with a cheeky smile excited to show you.

“Hmmmm, I guess now sounds good.” You giggled eager to see what the surprise was. He said okay and reached over to his bedside table. He handed you a little card. One of the best things about Trent was his spontaneity. Despite his schedule and intense lifestyle he always managed to surprise you somehow. You opened a beautiful envelope. Inside were two plane tickets to the Maldives and a cute little note.

“Did you see one more in the envelope?” He cooed suspiciously. You peeked inside and there was a fake little tiny ticket for your baby he had printed. It was about half the size of a credit card so you missed it. You giggled. It was so cute he was already including your baby but also you couldn���t help but squeal about going on a holiday this summer just the two of you. No other boys, no crazy parties just you two together.

“Thank you baby! So so so much! I can’t wait.” You giggled, wrapping him a big hug. He gave you a kiss and you began your day. Although you didn’t have anything planned until that night. Trent was taking you out for dinner so after the pretty lazy day around the house you got dressed. You were going to a nice restaurant and landed on wearing a red Valentino mini skirt you were thrilled still fit you. You wore a gray sweater and a pair of black So Kate heels. It was fairly simple but lately getting dressed up was kind of bumming you out. Your changing body had you feeling insecure. You weren’t exactly ready to let go of your wardrobe once things really stopped fitting.

“C’mon little plum.” Trent cooed, he was referring to your baby after you had told him last night that was how big he or she was at the moment. He wrapped his arms around you standing behind your frame. His hands rubbed over your stomach. “You look beautiful, baby. Ready to go?” He cooed, placing kisses behind your ear. You hummed and grabbed your black Chanel flap bag. Trent had made a reservation at a restaurant you loved for Valentine’s Day. It was an expensive French brasserie he really didn’t care for but you absolutely loved. These were times that you knew he really would do anything just to make you smile, even endure watching you eat foie gras and escargot. To be fair, he was fine. Steak frites was actually something he liked so it worked in the end. You rubbed your smooth leg over his under the table as you sat discussing what you wanted to get for dessert. The whole dinner it was just about killing you that you couldn’t have wine anymore so sweets would have to do. From the moment you sat down it was apparent the waiter was a Liverpool fan. His face lit up when he saw Trent seated. Trent could tell as well. He was cordial but it was your night together so his focus was solely on you.

“Try this, T. It’s really really good.” You poked your fork into a tart holding up a bit for him to try. He gave you a love sick smile but said ‘no’ He didn’t want any because he was ‘in season’ so you shrugged it off. You bit a little of the piece you had offered him. Trent leaned over the table and took your fork from you abruptly popping the remaining piece of the tart on the utensil into his mouth. He cocked his head and gave a surprised face impressed with the taste. You raised your eyebrows at him feigning an annoyance that he changed his mind on trying it. “Oh now you want to try it?” You giggled. You fed him more of your dish and wiped the corner of his lips with your thumb unnecessarily wanting to glide your fingers over his perfect pout. He kept his hand on your thigh as you talked and talked about your future and gushed about how much you loved the other. It was another perfect date in the books of Y/N and Trent.

When you got into the car to head home, you leaned onto Trents shoulder as he drove. Wearing your once favorite heels was exhausting; you couldn’t wait to take them off so you sat barefoot now in the front seat next to him. Your arms wrapped around his bicep as he draped his hand over the steering wheel to drive. Your lips formed into a pout as you let go of his arm and brought your fingers to cradle his handsome face.

“Going to post me on your Instagram, valentine?” You giggled, squeezing his cheeks.

“Baby… I really don’t want to stir up the chaos. I can’t have you getting upset. You know you’re mine that’s what matters.” He tried to reason with you worried about the potential stress of peoples comments affecting you and your baby.

“You’re so dramatic, T! Just post me on your story at least! Tell everyone how much you love me! Pleeassse. It’ll be my Valentine’s Day gift” You giggled letting go of his arm to cross your own over your chest. He groaned, pulling into your driveway. He opened the door for you and let you climb onto his back. Trent carried you into the house as you held the Louboutin heels in your hand. When you got into the house he walked directly into the living room and gently plopped you on the couch. You couldn’t hold in your excitement seeing the coffee table in the room was filled with pink flowers. You pouted and reached out to pull Trent down into a hug. He sat next to you and leaned his head onto your shoulder as he began scrolling through the photos on his phone. He smiled, looking back on all the memories you had documented together.

“Okay, baby, fine. Not like a vacation to the Maldives isn’t a gift. Greedy girl” he feigned a look of defeat. Ultimately, both he and you knew he was never going to say no to anything you asked. You squealed, pressing a wet kiss on his cheek with a dramatic ‘mwah’ sound.

“My forever valentine” he mumbled under his breath as he typed it out over the instagram story. It was a picture of you two kissing in your back garden during a party, Trent’s hands on your ass, yours around his neck, bodies squished together. You loved that he picked such a PDA filled photo. It was a hot but mushy photo. You loved him so much. At the end do the day he didn’t care what people said about either of you online he just wanted everyone to know you were his and he was yours. You had posted a carousel in feed post on your own instagram. It was simple and not overtly showing him. A picture of your hand laced with his, a photo of your face squished onto his cheek on a plane, and a short video of you blowing him a kiss at Anfield. You captioned it ‘4 life 🤞’ with no tag. You smiled some more as you watched Trent jokingly roll his eyes before he hit post on his story. “By the way… this” he shook his phone at you. “Isn’t your gift, baby. Let’s be real.” He cooed. “Go ahead…see what you got.” he giggled seeing your eyes widen, really starting to inspect all the boxes in front of you.

“So if the surprise was the Maldives, then this is….?” You questioned him with a childish smile. You sat on the couch cuddled up close to him.

“This is because you’re my valentine, baby, and I love you very much.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. He handed the gifts to you one at a time. An extra large Dior candle, tan Prada shearling slippers, Baccarat Rogue 540, Dior x Rimowa carry-on luggage for your Maldives trip, and the gold Bvlgari Serpenti Viper you’d been eyeing for months. It was all too much. He completely spoiled you.

“You don’t have to do so much every year you know?” You tried to tell him but both you and he knew he would never have holidays go any other way. You were so appreciative of everything but he didn’t need to, you’d love him just the same.

“Oh! One more, baby. For the valentine we’re waiting to meet.” He cooed, handing you a little box wrapped with a bow. You untied it carefully and lifted the lid. You opened it up and there was the tiniest cutest Moncler fleece coat that had little bear ears on the hood. It was so fucking cute. You pouted at him. “I saw it the other day and I just wanted them to have it. It was so fun shopping for them, baby. Everything is so small.”

“You… and it are so fucking cute, T.” You cooed back. He hummed picking up the the tiny jacket admiring how small it was. “I have somethings for you too by the way.” You giggled. You gave him some real gifts; an Assouline coffee table book of Formula 1, a pair of Prada sneakers, a Louis Vuitton silver monogram speaker, and a bunch of other things you knew he’d like. Gifts were definitely a love language in your house. The thing you most wanted to give him though was a bit more exciting in your opinion and probably would be mutually enjoyed. You pulled out one final bag cheekily. You gave it to him and he fumbled through the tissue paper. He pulled out a sexy Fleur Du Mal pink and red lace piece of lingerie.

“Oh yeah?” Trent’s eyes lit up. You hummed a ‘mmhmm’ you snatched it out of his hands, got up from the couch and scurried upstairs.

“Are you coming?!?!” You yelled back down to him. Trent puffed out some air and shook his head in disbelief at how perfect you were for him. He stood up with his cock already beginning to harden just from the thoughts about you in that little piece of fabric alone. When he walked into the bedroom you were on your knees sat back on your heels in the lingerie.

“Well C’mere baby. Lemme see you first.” He cooed, grabbing your hand to pull you off the bed. You stood up with a cheeky smile looking at him. He walked around you and sat himself down on your bed. He gestured for you to twirl and so you did. “I might need a picture of this one. So fucking sexy.” He groaned looking at you. His cock tenting in his trousers. You giggled and walked towards him. You placed your hands on both his knees and slid them up his thighs. In an instant you found both of you naked, yourself on top of him. Your face buried in his neck. You let out a quiet moan as his large hand caressed your thigh, the other helping guide his cock into your entrance.

“Mmm fuck T…” you whined against his skin as you sank further down his length. He didn’t give you much time to adjust, too eager to start so he snapped his hips up into you hitting your g spot instantaneously. He kept you on his lap on the bed with his arm wrapped tight around your waist. His perfect lips sucked bruises onto your skin. Groaning everytime you clenched tighter around him. He brought his hands to grip your asscheeks thrusting harder into you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he murmured moving to capture your lips in a sloppy messy heated kiss. You moaned when you tasted him. He continued fucking his cock up into you while his hands caressed your back untill he moved them around your sides and then up over you to your tits. He rolled both nipples between his fingers. Your thighs quivered, straddling him when he pinched them. “So fucking beautiful” he growled. Trent lifted his head to look at you. The wrecked expression almost knocked all the wind out of you. The knot of pleasure between his eyebrows and the darkening of his big brown eyes was stupidly attractive. You felt your clit throb. You shifted on top of him to get more contact. He grabbed your jaw to kiss you softly in contrast to his harsh thrusts. He stole your gasp from you when his lips pressed to yours. Trent loved when you were like this. Soft and obsequious on top of him. All you wanted to do was please him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from how your tits bounced as you rode him desperately. His thumb smoothed over your raised nipple. He cursed feeling you clench again.

“Oh fuck T.. I love you. Feel so so fucking good. I’m all yours baby.” You whined. The tip of his cock hit the spot only he knew when he rolled his hips up into you. You arched your back until your tits pressed against him. The wave of your arousal made a mess of his cock and dripping down onto your sheets

“Most beautiful fucking girl. All fucking mine. Feel so good f’me.” You both could feel your highs fast approaching. He slid his hand between your two bodies and down to your clit. You tipped your head back and Trent took advantage of the space pressing his lips to your neck. He nibbled on your sensitive skin scraping his teeth against you, marking you as his. Every movement of his tongue on you made it harder and harder to think. You felt the knot in your stomach grow tighter as Trent’s fingers circled harshly on your clit. “Cum on my cock, baby. Be a good girl and cum f’me.” He grunted out. The pleasure started to be too much to control. Your pussy clenched tight around him as your body was filled with white hot pleasure. Your warm, wet, and tight walls become too much for Trent to manage. Swiftly he was twitching and fucking you full of his cum.

“Fuck T…” you whined feeling his thrusts continue but slow. He emptied himself with slow lazy pumps. You both were completely breathless as he stilled keeping his cum nestled inside you. You collapsed into him more and buried your face into his neck leaving wet kisses. “I’m sleepy…” you whispered with a childish giggle. Trent smiled, pressing a kiss to you. You both attempted to come back to earth. He rubbed his hands up and down your spine before gently pulling out of you, his cum leaking down the insides of your thighs.

“I got you, baby. I know.” He kissed your warm bare skin holding you tightly against him. The word around you didn’t exist anymore, the only thing was the two of you. You were exhausted from the love making. Your head rested back on the pillows, you let your eyes close as you breathed softly. The air was thick and warm. It smelt like sex. Trent let you lay on his naked chest feeling himself melt under your touch while your fingers toyed with his hair. Trent frowned and let out a boyish groan when you suddenly stopped.

“Nahh. C’mon, baby, please…” He whined, grabbing at your hand to place it back on his head. “Don’t stop.”

“Okay, greedy boy” the pet name sent shivers down his spine. He somehow managed to grip onto your body tighter then he already was. He loved when you babied him. “So need aren’t you?” You teased with a giggle continuing to play with his hair. He only responded with a hum comforted by your touch. He let his eyes close for a while as you continued to gently play, scratching his scalp gently every so often with your long nails. He was so comfortable like this. Being with you was his absolutely favorite place to be.

You laid in the cinema while Trent sat watching a Europa League match on the telly. He had an away game he needed to travel tomorrow for this weekend so you were taking advantage of your fleeting time together. He looked so cozy bundled in a jumper. You cuddled up next to him dragging your nails over his abs under his top. He purred at the feeling.

An article had come out recently that made you feel sick. Something about how Trent was conceded, disrespectful, a bunch of things he wasn’t and couldn’t have been further from. You weren’t even sure if Trent had read it. You hoped he didn’t. He knew it existed sure, but you put yourself through the pain of reading it in full, breaking your heart that much more. People could never know him the way you did but it upset you so much knowing not everyone saw that he was perfect the way you saw. They couldn’t see the pain behind his eyes reeling over a loss, they couldn’t see him having banter with you making dinner, they couldn’t see him coming home with flowers just because, they couldn’t see the hurt he felt reading twitter when people questioned his place in the England squad, they couldn’t see him rushing from the airport to your home after away matches to get back to you. You curled up next to him and felt safe. You were wrapped up in his arms and his scent. It was so familiar, it made your heart soften as he explained some controversial call in the match. Trent was a constant in your life that you always could count on. It hurt when he was hurting. No matter what it was, he was there for you and you wanted to be there for him. You hated that you couldn’t control what people said about him. Just the same as you knew the intricacies of Trent, he knew them about you. Trent knew you so well without even having to ask what you needed. He knew immediately what type of mood you were in. He knew your body language so well. In this moment, he knew you were comfortable. Something about laying on his chest made your heart slow. You knew this is what feeling safe felt like, this is what true love felt like, this is what home felt like.

Trent was down in Luton for an away match. He laid in his hotel room the night before and gave you one of many habitual calls whilst he was gone. You were laying in your shared bed back up north and the ache of missing him washed over you. He looked at you with his toned tanned torso on display. He was so unintentionally sexy. You were having a hard time not just begging for him right now. You were desperate for his attention but you opted to be a bit more subtle. Trent was on a rant about how pissed he was that a certain referee was officiating tomorrow. You pulled the tiny tank top you were in over your head and swiftly reached behind you to unclasp the lace bralette you had one. Your tits bounced being released.

“Baby, what are we doing?” Trent grappled with his words. He was taken aback by your show. He could feel the blood rush to his cock. He was a goner.

“I need to get ready for bed, T. Keep telling your story.” You teased gesturing for him to go on. You were completely naked now in front of him. Trent found it hard to control himself. You grabbed your boobs, massaging them and playing with your nipples playfully with the hope of seducing him.

“If I play poorly tomorrow this is on you.” Trent said gawking at your hardening nipples. You usually tried to abstain from any messing about days before matches but it was only Luton. He reached for his cock and began stroking his length as he watched you.

“I will make a public statement apologizing for my hand in your form although to be fair… it’s your hand not mine.” He said as your eyes widened seeing his perfect cock stand at attention for you. He rolled his eyes but let out a groan when you sat further back opening your legs for him giving a sly smile.

“Fuck, baby. You’re driving me crazy. You’re so fucking fit.” he moaned as you ran your hands down your body and back up to caress your tits playing with your hardened nipples. “Such a fucking tease, pretty girl.” Trent’s mouth was agape in disbelief staring at your body as you continued dragging your fingers up before sucking on them being incredibly messy, spit pooling in the corners of your mouth, showing him as you licked around them like you would if it was him. He started to tug on his cock some more. You brought your wet fingers down to circle slowly and hard on your clit. You moaned as you picked up your pace.

“Fuck T, I miss you... I-fuck.. I need you.” you whined at the feeling of your quick pace dreaming it could be him. Your brain went fuzzy as your glassy eyes watched Trent work his big hard cock. You bit your lip. You wished he was with you with his hands on you but that couldn’t happen so this was the next best thing and it was feeling really fucking good. You loved the way his gaze felt on you. It was impossible for Trent to get tired of looking at your delicate body. Frankly, he probably could cum just seeing you and knowing you were pregnant with his baby was just doing different things for him.

“Be a good girl and cum f’me” he was barely able to grunt out the words completely enamored by the noises coming from you through his phone that he missed so much. You felt the knot in your stomach snap quick, cumming messily over your own hand. “That’s it baby, feels so fu-fucking good” he shuddered. “Shit baby, I’m gonna cum as well.” He said before he released onto his abs, breathing incredibly hard, eyes shut. You stayed on the phone for a while after cleaning up. Chatting about anything and nothing at the same time.

“Night, my beautiful girl. I’ll see you and our little baby tomorrow night.” You hummed and blew him a kiss. Trent hated watching you grab onto the little teddy bear he gave you before he went to the Euros. You always slept with it when he was away. He was embarrassingly envious of a teddy bear that got to be with you every night. Trent was supposed to be with you in bed not in some stupid hotel alone but work was work. When he came home the next day after winning his match you were long asleep. You watched the final whistle blow but after that you curled up in your bed. You tried your best to wait up for him but by the bedside lamp still left on it was obvious you had failed. Trent slowly crept into your bedroom and pouted at how cute you looked cuddled up in the bed. He turned off the lights and glared at the teddy bear tossed on his side of the bed. He picked it up and made a face moving it. He carefully got in to bed, replacing the bear next to you under the covers. He cozied up wrapping his arms around you pulling your body to him, laying his head on to your chest. You hummed sleepily but didn’t have enough strength to fully wake. You knew it was him. He listened to your beating heart as he placed his hand over your stomach where the two of you's baby was. The feeling of your warm skin made him melt. He was so in love with every inch of you.

“Okay. I’m going to have you lay back for me and we’ll put the gel on your stomach, it’ll be a little cold.” You nodded and laid back feeling the cool gel on your warm skin. You sat on the table at the doctor's office and watched Trent anxiously bouncing his leg up and down. He couldn’t take his eyes off the monitor. “Here is your little baby.” she cooed with a smile as the ultrasound wand stilled on your stomach. She clicked a photo. “Here is their heartbeat.” The sound filled the room. It was so quiet in there, you could hear the whooshing sound of your baby’s heartbeat .

“Oh my god...” you whispered in utter shock. Your hand covered your mouth. It was so real and surreal at the same time. Trent took your hand away from your mouth and brought it to his lips placing a kiss on your knuckles. He laid his head next to yours on the bed watching your baby with you. You noticed how Trent held his breath as the nurse asked if you were ready to know the gender. It made you smile knowing he was nervous too.

“And you are having….” The nurse drew out painful seconds as your anxiety skyrocketed. “Congratulations! You’re going to have a little girl.” She cooed sweetly. Tears appeared in the corners of your eyes. The love in Trent’s broke your heart in the best way. Unbeknownst to you, he really liked the idea of having a daughter.

“Holy shit, baby.” He finally let out the deep breath he’d been holding. Tears built in his eyes just the same. “We’re having a little girl.” He pouted, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Yeah, T… a little baby girl.” You beamed, pulling him down to squeeze him in a tight hug. He held onto you while the doctor printed out the photos of the scan.

“Doing okay, beautiful?” Trent asked as he drove you home. You were holding the images inspecting your little girl. He stretched his hand over to you to rub your stomach. You hummed with a childish smile still a little in shock, you finally knew what you were having.

“For you mummy.” You were sat in the living room days later when Trent came home from training with a big bouquet of pink roses for you. You giggled while taking them. They were beautiful and unnecessary but they did make you happy. He sat down next to you and changed the channel from what you were currently watching.

“Excuse me!?! Mummy was watching that.” You kept giggling trying to grab the remote back from him. He laughed holding it further away from you until you huffed giving up so he handed it back to you before pulling you into his embrace. You laid cuddled up to him and left what he had changed the TV to on, you really didn’t care.

“So mummy…” Trent giggled. “Is it mummy with a ‘U’ or an ‘O’ for you?” You hadn’t really thought about it. You guessed your daughter would have a different accent than yours. She would spell things differently than you do. “Just so you know, it will be a ‘U’ in this house. She will say mummy. Not having any mOOmmy nonsense” He dramatized an American pronunciation of the word and gave you a feigned stern face. You didn’t notice but maybe over the years you’d been living abroad your own accent started to change or mend. Your choice of words definitely started to shift to a more British vernacular.

“I guess it’ll be a ‘U’ then.” You giggled leaning back onto him. “Mummy” you mockingly said in a poor attempt to replicate Trent’s scouse accent. He squeezed you tight and you cozied up to him a little more. You watched tv for a while longer until you needed to get a worry you had that starting to plague you off your chest. “T…” you sheepishly called out looking up at him. “Are you upset we’re having a girl?” You asked timidly. It had been bothering you since you found out the gender. He seemed happy but you always knew a dream of his was to play footie with a son.

“No?” He laughed a little confused why you would think that. He rubbed his hands up your sides. “The two most beautiful girls in the world are going to be all mine.” He cooed. It was cute he thought that. It was an incredibly overzealous statement but cute nevertheless.

“I hope she looks just like her daddy.” You giggled pulling at his pouty bottom lip. He smiled imagining having a little twin. “I think I know what I want to name her, T.”

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?” He smiled at you. He thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. You leaned over you cupped your hand around his ear and whispered like someone else could possibly hear. You told him the name you were thinking and his eyes welled. “It’s perfect. Baby… I’m so thankful that you’re giving me a little girl, giving us a daughter. I can’t explain how amazing this whole thing has been already.”He cooed.

“T… you got me pregnant. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.” You teased giggling but he just squeezed you a little tighter to him sincerely. “I’m kidding, pretty boy. I love you and I already love our little girl so much” You cooed.

“I love my two girls. No one else in this world I’d want to start a family with.” He whispered as you continued watching TV.

“Are you going to make her play footie?” You laughed interrupting his focus on the program. Imagining your baby girl playing with Trent had your heart practically shattering. It was so adorable.

“Up to her, innit?” Trent cooed but he couldn’t help but visualize teaching his kids how to play. His eyes followed something on the screen then they fixed on you. He tilted his head and looked at you squinting his eyes. He smiled examining and memorizing every bit of your face. “C’mere,” he pulled you further into him. “You’re so gorgeous. Going to be the best mummy to her.” He pressed his soft lips against yours and you blissfully hummed. “That’s said with a ‘U’ by the way.” You both laughed clinging to the other.

“We have to make a plan to tell everyone soon, T…” you cooed as you laid in bed later that night. When your bump had begun to start show just a little Trent couldn’t stop documenting the growth. To be fair neither could you but it was cute he was doing it too. His camera roll was filled with pictures of you but as the bump started to form, the time of being able to hide it was starting to dwindle. Honestly it was hardy notable at the moment but you were always pretty fit and lived with a professional athlete so people might’ve started questioning if your body began to change.

“I know, baby. I think after we win the league. We could have a little party to announce her.” He whispered to you, spooning under the covers. Time flew and somehow you were nearing the end of the season and your little plum had grown into a grapefruit.

“Oh, feeling confident aren’t we?” You giggled. Liverpool had a great season. They were 5 points clear with a game in hand so you were merely teasing Trent. “Seriously though, are you sure? Maybe we should do something separate. I don’t want to take away from your accomplishment, baby.” You whispered softly back in the dark room.

“We’ll split it up if that makes you feel better but I wouldn’t mind. Maybe just our immediate families. I wanted to invite your family for the end of the season as well regardless.” He kept talking, continuing to brush his warm hands over you. You hummed, preferring that plan. It was sweet Trent wanted your family to come visit, baby announcement or not.

Marcel and George were over and the three boys were in the cinema watching another team’s prem game debating the controversial point deduction of a team about to get relegated. You had been feeling particularly lethargic that day. You walked into the room and the two two boys turned to acknowledge you and say hi still oblivious to the fact that you were pregnant. Trent turned to see you and his face softened. He held his arms out for you to come sit with him. You laid next to his strong body and wrapped your arms around him but weren’t comfortable enough like that. You pulled his shirt up and laid on his bare abs and chest. The heat radiating off his skin comforting your tired body. He chuckled at your need to be so close to him but he didn’t mind. He didn’t exactly have a body anyone would be scared to show off. You pressed your cheek on his warm skin and closed your eyes. Not to sleep, you just wanted to relax.

“Don’t want to watch, pretty girl?” He whispered quietly into your hair. You shook your head ‘no.’ Your one dainty hand was sprawled across Trent’s chest and he played around with each finger for a while as he watched the game occasionally talking with Marcel and George about it. “Can I get you anything?” He whispered again, tracing shapes on your back with his other hand. You smiled but shook your head ‘no’ again. Frankly you wouldn’t mind a water but laying on him right now was the priority. It felt so perfect, you’d rather die of dehydration than leave the man beneath you. A little while later another question came. “Can I do anything for you, baby?” He was so attentive. It made you feel like nothing could ever go wrong because he would handle every little thing but you took a second to really think about his question.

“A kiss would be good.” You whispered giggling not being able to come up with anything more he could possibly do for you. You moved your face towards his and pursed your lips for a kiss

“I can do that for you, pretty girl.” He leaned into you with his soft plump lips. The kiss sent electricity through your whole body. You always wondered what people meant when they said they only had eyes for one person. This was it, like right now you didn’t even know Marcel and George were still in the room. You only had eyes for him, the rest of the world blurred. This is what love was. Right here with this boy. You pulled away with a big big smile.

“I always think it isn't possible for you two to continue to get more nauseating and yet here we are.” Marcel’s voice broke your eyes only for Trent reminding you they were very much in the room. You giggled and pressed another kiss to Trent’s lips while holding up a middle finger towards Marcel.

It got late so you went upstairs to shower, Marcel and George went home, and Trent stayed put in the cinema when he decided to FaceTime Jude. You weren’t totally sure how they even managed conversations with each other because they both yapped so much. How could one possibly get a word in over the other. Their friendship was really cute and you loved Jude. It just was a little funny when you did hear them converse. It was fast and chaotic, filled with inside jokes, riddled with stupidity and intellect all at the same time. They talked and talked; football, friends, upcoming England duties, general gossip, filling each other in on family. Although the latter topic was when things took a turn.

“Yeah we’ve been staying in a lot more. Y/N’s almost 4 months now so taking it pretty easy up here, mate.” Trent laughed and then stopped instantly when he saw Jude’s eyes widen, his face fall into complete shock.

“Erm, bro, what…?” Jude muttered out absolutely shaken. To be fair Jude was younger than you two so the thought of a baby in his mind was not only terrifying but it was hard to not think it was likely unplanned and a mistake.

“Fuck! You can’t say anything. Serious Jude, not a fucking word.” Trent rambled quickly starting to panic. He sat up more in his seat and ran his hand over his head.

“I won’t, I won’t mate. Are you serious though? Did you plan this? Does anyone know?” Jude rattled back just as fast but his surprised face dropped into one of concern.

“Yeah, we had been trying. Definitely a planned thing.” Trent laughed. “No one knows yet we haven’t told anyone. We wanted to make sure the baby and her were healthy and all that. Bro, I’m so serious you cannot say a word until we let everyone else know.”

“Course. Wow. Congratulations Trentski. That’s fucking mad. I’m really happy for you lot.” Jude giggled a little flustered by the news he just unearthed.

“Yeah, I’m absolutely buzzing. We’re so excited. Y/N is doing well so far and we just found out we’re having a little girl so I’m fucking gassed.”

“Ayye! That’s sick, mate. Congratulations, really. So you're naming her Judy right?” Jude teased but definitely laced with a bit of seriousness he hoped he’d be involved in his best friend's baby’s life somehow.

“Yeah, obviously. First name that came to my mind when I looked at the image of my beautiful baby girl and Y/N.” Trent joked sarcastically laughing. “Thank you though. Shit! Y/N is going to kill me that I told you. How do I tell her you know?” He started to worry. Jude laughed at his panic. Trent didn’t need to fret really, Jude wasn’t going to tell anyone.

“Just tell her it was important I knew because you’re naming her after me. Simple as.” Jude laughed. Trent rolled his eyes.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 3 xx

[codtrashsammy]

This is... love? (Simon Riley x Reader)

- SMUT SMUT SMUT - MDNI MDNI MDNI -

First time writing smut in a loooong time, so bare with me. Had an idea and ran with it. I hope you like it tho!

Simon Riley can fuck. But what about the first time you make love? Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You

Warnings: crying during sex (not the bad kind tho, promise), explicit sex, p in v, praise (heavy heavy like on god), gentle love making <3 bc our boy can fuck, but what about other stuff too?!

Of course, you’ve fucked. Simon has been your boyfriend for 3 years now, you’re definitely comfortable to explore that part of your relationship now.

Simon has had you bent over every piece of furniture in your flat, has had you in every bed in your house, in the shower, on the floor, a couple of times on the balcony even. He’s had you pinned to walls in sketchy bar bathrooms, he’s had you in the back of his nice looking truck, the bed of that same truck- fuckin’ everywhere. That’s all it’s been, it’s been fucking. Rough, fast- always fucking godly, of course, but it’s primal. Animalistic, and you love it- you truly do love it. But this time you want to do things different. You want to slow it down, you want to fucking relish in the man you’re lucky to call your own. You don’t want to fuck, you want to make love to him. Simon has always been… not exactly averse to your softer affections, as he’s always a very willing participant, but you sometimes notice he seems… overwhelmed. Like he can’t quite handle the raw, genuine emotion behind a soft, tender, lingering touch. His cheeks heat up, he gets this certain look in his eyes, and while he’s never been mean about it- he backs away from it. He shies away from it. 

You’ve tried talking to him about it- you’ve tried many, many times to bring it up to him. And yet the bastard always has a way to switch up the conversation, to change things around, to slip past the topic so easily- he can spin straw into gold with that mouth of his.

So, you’ve decided to take matters into your own hands.

You’re laying in bed, cuddled right up to him, your leg thrown over his hips and an arm thrown over his chest while you lay on your side, your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm. Simon’s hand idly plays with the ends of your hair, his arm wrapped around you, simply holding you to him as if to make sure you don’t slip away. 

Simon is seemingly lost in thought, eyes closed and body more or less relaxed- as relaxed as Simon can be when the man is always seemingly on alert to every little sound. 

“Hey, Si,” You murmur out, your fingers idly tracing random shapes against the fabric of his shirt. He hums to let you know he’s heard you, but otherwise doesn’t really react. Fuck, you love this man. You love every inch of him, everything about him. You even love that he always leaves the toilet seat up (you swear he does it out of spite) because you know you’d miss it if he wasn’t around to keep doing it.

“Can I try something?” You ask, tone soft and relaxed, casual. Not at all portraying the thoughts in your head, your secret little ‘mastermind’ plan. 

“Tha’s quite vague, ain’t it, love?” Simon grumbles out, voice low as if to match the atmosphere of simple peace and quiet. “Hmm…” You trail off, a playful smile growing on your face- not that he’s looking to see it, “I think it’s pretty simple. Either yes or no.” You quip with a nod, moving to lean up, resting your weight on your elbows so you can look down at him with a soft, gentle smile. And of course at feeling you move, his arm moves from around your shoulders to around your waist- always touching you, never wanting you far when he’s finally home. (You don’t realize home is you- but of course he’s never quite told you that). Simon’s eyes open at your movement, too. Pretty brown eyes, half lidded in his more-or-less relaxed state as he looks up to meet your gaze, his gaze soft in the way it only ever is for you- his mask resting along the nightstand by the bed. There if he needs it- but it’s rarely needed with you around. A warm light, easily able to lighten up even the darkest depths of his mind to keep his demons at bay.

“....yes?” Simon offers after a few moments of contemplation, a curious look in his own eyes as they scan over your face- looking for a hint of what possible fuckery you could be up to at this point. Your soft smile stretches out into a soft grin as you lean down, pressing your lips to Simon's and letting your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands come up, tracing softly up his chest, up his throat, along his jaw before settling to cup his cheek.

You can feel his breath hitch the slightest bit at the soft touch, the lingering touch. This is the kind of kiss that usually overwhelms him, but maybe he’s in a good mood tonight. Your thumb softly caresses his cheek while your tongues intertwine, and you can feel the moment Simon tries to speed it up.

You pull away, eyes still closed, your lips brushing against his as you speak, “No, no,”

And you promptly place your lips back against his own, not giving him time to start spitting his bullshit about how he’s going to make you see stars if you don’t stop teasing him- because that’s not the goal here. 

You shift your body, moving to straddle Simon's hips (a feat in its own right), keeping one hand cupping his cheek while the other moves to the hem of his shirt, slowly running over the skin above the waistband of his pajama pants, before delving under the fabric and feeling the softness of his tummy, touch so soft and gentle, so loving against his body.

Simon doesn’t know what to think, his own hands seeming to hesitate before they come to rest along your thighs, squeezing the fat there a bit roughly- but that’s okay, you can teach him. 

“Love your hands, Si,” You murmur as you finally pull away from the kiss, only to trail kisses down his jawline, slow and soft, occasionally nipping at the skin.

Simon let's out a grunt, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs before moving to cup your ass, pushing your body to force your clothed cunt to grind against his already hard cock, and a breathy moan leaves your lips from the stimulation- but damn it, you’re doing this your way this time.

“I’ll stop,” You warn, voice still soft, but there's… an edge to it for once, one stating that you really will.

A soft groan leaves Simon's lips, along with a scoff at the absolute audacity of you, “Love,” Simon says, in warning more than anything. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” You’re quick to say, before leaning back to meet his pretty, brown-eyed gaze, your hands moving to lift his shirt which he eagerly enough helps with, throwing the fabric away and down to the floor like it was the very thing that killed his family.

…a bit much, but you can understand his eagerness.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” You murmur out, eyes filled with nothing but adoration as you trail your hands across the familiar expanse of his chest, fingers running through his chest hair, thumbs brushing over his nipples before trailing down his sides. Your palms run over the subtle softness of his belly, where you know there is muscle hidden underneath.

A hiss leaves Simon's lips, and you can feel his cock twitch from where you’re perched in his lap. “Bloody ‘ell, love, the fuck ya doin?” Simon mutters, hands moving to grab your hips.

“Jus’ be good for me, yeah?” You murmur out, a soft, adoring smile on your face as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

The sight alone is enough to make you pause slightly. He’s not like this when you’re fucking- and you don’t even have his dick in you yet! His cheeks are flushed, not from exertion, he’s just flustered, his bottom lip between his teeth, brows pinched together with pretty glossy eyes. Almost like he could cry- but not quite. 

“You’re always so good for me, Si,” You murmur, grinding your hips against his own and letting out another breathy moan at the feeling, his hands tightening their grip of your hips in response. Just one look and you can tell he’s overwhelmed already- or at the very least getting there. But he hasn’t once told you to stop- he’s simply tried speeding you up, which you have no interest in. Not this time.

You grab his hands, kissing each of his knuckles before slowly dragging them underneath your own shirt, placing his palms against your breasts, his thumbs already swiping at your nipples, at the already peaked buds there. “Always takin’ such good care of me, my love,” You praise, and you reward him with another slow grind, beginning to set such a slow, but lovely pace, just enough friction to make you want more- but that’s the goal. A slow build, no rush, no desperation, just… slow. Loving. Gentle. Tender. Simon visibly gulps, his hands squeezing the flesh of your tits with a groan before he’s tugging your shirt off and adding it to the growing pile on the floor. He tries to buck his hips, tries to get your movements to speed up- but you simply lift up, ending the contact altogether, and send him a pointed look.

“Do ya not want me to fuck ya, love? What’s all this then?” Simon says with a huff, eyes narrowing slightly as they meet your own. Anyone else would say he’s frustrated- and yeah, partly he is. But you know your Simon, you can see that glossiness to his eyes, can see the slightest twitch of his brow- he’s overwhelmed- he’s not sure how to handle this, the softness, the gentleness. Simon likes to say he can’t be soft, can’t be gentle, can’t be loving. But it’s been 3 years with this man- you know he can. He just needs to be taught- it’s simply something he’s never had before, it’s not like he was born with the knowledge. “No,” You answer with a pleased, breathy sigh, resting your hips back against his own and beginning that slow grind once more, feeling his cock twitch at the action. “Don’t wanna fuck, Si. Jus’ be good for me, baby. Jus’ sit here, look pretty for me. Always so good for me. Jus’ let me love you, sweet boy,” You murmur out, eyes meeting his own and holding their gaze.

You trail your hands down his arms along his shoulders and collar bones, quite literally loving every inch of his skin.

Simon’s cheeks get hotter, the look he gives you is entirely overwhelmed, spooked even. Like the thought of being loved is absolutely horrifying alone.

“Be good? Kinda kinky, innit?” Simon mumbles out in response, looking at you with a quirked brow.

But you don’t stop. And he doesn’t stop you.

Clothes continue to fly off, positions change, but somehow you manage to remain in full control for once. And he lets you. Sure, you have to correct him at times, have to remind him to slow down, all with soft smiles and gentle praise- and he eats it up like a starving hound.

Even now, as moans and breathy praise leaves your lips, Simon being vocal, a rarity on it’s own, at least to this extent.

“Feel s’ good around me, love, fuck, so good,” He fucking babbles, his cock dragging along the walls of your drooling cunt at a slow, but steady pace. You’re underneath him now- stereotypical missionary- but it’s divine.

You pull Simon’s head down, pressing his forehead against your own, your legs wrapped loosely around his hips as his cock drags deliciously over all those sweet spots inside, the soft mound above his cock pressing against your clit with every. Single. Thrust.

It’s a slow build up, so slow, and while he focuses on clenching his fists into the sheets above your head, resting on his elbows on either side of it, you focus on touching him, praising him.

“Always so good to me, baby,” You practically purr the words.

“I love you so much, Si, so much,” You say, breathless as your back arches, forehead pressed to his and eyes closed in bliss of the slow building pleasure.

“Like you were made jus’ for me, sweet boy,” Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, one of them tangling in his hair.

“Love how you make me feel, Simon,” You moan out, legs tightening their grip around his hips.

If your eyes weren’t closed, you’d see how Simon is looking at you right now. Simon is looking at you like you’re a fucking goddess… but the vision is blurry, from the pure overwhelming, unshed tears in his eyes. God, he’s pathetic, isn’t he? Crying? During sex? But he can’t even entertain the thought- thoughtful praise continuing to spill from your lips as he continues his slow, languid, deep thrusts. 

He focuses on the feeling, on the way your words are soothing parts of him he didn’t care to recognize were broken, he focuses on the way your hands trail across his skin so fucking lovingly- as if he’s actually worth something. As if he’s someone and not a monster. As if he doesn’t have hundreds of lives taken by the very hands you praise for touching you.

No- no, none of that matters right now, as for the first time in his fucking life Simon Riley doesn’t fuck- he makes love. 

“God- g-gonna make me cum, Simon- fuck- love the way you make me cum-” You whimper out, back arching into him and fuck, Simon can’t take it anymore.

Simon doesn’t know what to think. Sure, the pleasure is mind-numbing, your pussy always feels so fucking good when it’s wrapped around his cock like this, but it’s damn near tripled by the pure feelings you’re forcing him to feel. The way his chest burns, but it’s so good- he can fucking feel the love you have for him, the way you hold him in your heart, the way you think of him as though he put the very stars in the sky for you and you alone. And he would- fuck he absolutely would. He’d give you the world should you ask for it- fuck he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

He doesn’t speed up- he wants the slower build up, too, doesn’t want to rush it, but he’s going to shatter if more praise leaves your lips so he presses down, slotting his mouth against your own, a minor distraction really.

You can feel the wetness to his cheeks.

You know it’s not sweat.

Your hands move to cup his cheeks so softly, so lovingly, so gently. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure builds until that band finally fucking snaps, and you’re on cloud nine.

Simon buries his head in the crook of your neck, his hot, thick cum shooting ropes into you as your cunt squeezes his cock like a vice, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

You’re both panting, but Simon's head stays hidden- you know why, you can feel the tears against your neck, but you don’t say anything.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you come down from your high, nuzzling your cheek against the top of his head.

“Love you so much,” You whisper out, running a hand through his hair, still slightly breathless.

You can feel Simon place the softest kiss to your neck, arms squeezing you almost too tightly, but you don’t say anything. 

You know your Simon. He’s not a monster. He’s not a killing machine. He’s a man- your man. Simon’s not unlovable, he’s not broken. He’s not stupid for simply not knowing. He’s not stupid for simply needing to be taught.

And you love him. Gods, do you love him. You’ll teach him. You’ll teach him it’s okay, he’s safe here, in your arms. He’s safe to love, to cry, to breakdown, he’s safe to get the very things he’s never had- and you’ll give them willingly.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. His now soft cock still buried in your cunt, his tears have subsided awhile ago, but he’s still unwilling to move from his spot- not that you’re complaining. 

It’s so quiet you barely even hear it, but fuck, you’re so glad you did.

“Love ya,” Simon mumbles against your skin, his voice so quiet, hoarse and rough. But so very soft, so very gentle. Yeah. Simon Riley can fuck like a god. But Simon Riley is learning how to love you fully, how to make love to you fully- and he wouldn’t change a thing. Neither would you.

[lady-of-endless]

I THUNKED A THOUGHT! Because of Jotaro's stoic and reserved nature he is most likely not into PDA, HOWEVER. What if he used his stand instead? It's not public, and non standusers can't see stands!

So with that information, may I request hcs for part 3 joot giving PDA to gn s/o through Star Plat?

Jotaro showing affection with the help of Star Platinum headcanons

Author's Note: YES! I love it when some ideas I once had get requested, it feels like we're sharing the same neuron. Thank you so much for this. I love Joot and Star Plat, big cuties. I hope I got it right and you'll enjoy!

- Once you accept this type of affection, you'll discover that Star Platinum is a very clingy Stand to the ones Jotaro cares for. And Star Platinum, much like his owner, has no shame but the difference is that his Stand doesn't grasp the concept of PDA, he's just happy to be able to express his attachment to Jotaro and you.

- It starts with Star Platinum staring at you with big eyes whenever he's around you, almost scaring you as you turn around and see him like that. He is a simple warrior Stand who likes to stare at pretty things and people, don't mind him.

- From the beginning, we know that Star Platinum manifested to help Jotaro but he was rejected as a protector and pictured as an "evil spirit" instead. Seeing how Jotaro didn't accept his presence at first, Star started spoiling him by bringing everything Jotaro liked. Expect him to do that to you as well. Snacks, flowers, things he things you enjoy.

- Jotaro will scold Star Platinum for spoiling you like that but that's all. He doesn't tell him to stop though, realizing how this might be a good compensation for his lack of PDA. He can't help but sigh and let it happen.

- Star Platinum does whatever Jotaro wants and is a softie so once he gets the green light from Jotaro, get ready for affection. You won't notice it but before any move, Star asks Jotaro for permission. For example, if he wants to hold your hand, he points at your hand, looking back at Jotaro until he nods and gets the sign that it's alright to touch your hand.

- Whenever Jotaro feels his hands itching to touch you while you are in public, he'll just have to stare at you until Star Platinum understands what he has to do. He feels your warmth through his Stand's touch and he's pleased.

- Jotaro rolls his eyes at everything. He thinks that Star Platinum is going soft because of you. But guess what? Everyone knows that a Stand is an extension, a manifestation, of the soul and that only means that deep down in his soul, Jotaro craves giving you this kind of affection but doesn't allow himself to show it to you just yet.

- Star considers you a part of Jotaro since he notices how much he cares about you and how much he feels about you. So, whenever you're in danger, he's there, protecting you just like he protects Jotaro. Above all affection, you feel protection from him the most.

- Other stand users are going to be petrified when they see Jotaro's tall frame and intense look on his face next to you and a huge-looking purple Stand looming over you from behind while you're there just smiling, minding your business. You're going to have scary dog privileges with both of them.

- Star Platinum's favorite way of being around you is by having his large arms around your torso from behind. (a bit similar to the gif I attached)

- Jotaro notices that you enjoy this affection so he keeps it going in public until he's alone with you and it's his turn to be affectionate without the help of Star Platinum.

[starsurface]

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Regressor Bi-Han w/ CG Liu Kang (Fic)

WARNING: Mention of body horror!!!! Not much but some!!

A Lin Kuei did his missions with seriousness and honor.

Do the job, do it good, do it right, do it fast.

And the Grandmaster was no exception to this code.

"Thank you for accompanying me," Liu Kang tried to smile as they walked. "I know you have greater things to do."

"We're clearing out Shang Tsung's laboratory. We've relocated the . . . people who were already inside," Liu Kang re-explained. Bi-Han struggled not to roll his eyes. "It's more collecting his paperwork and notes. They're important, and we need to get to them before he thinks about coming back."

". . . Is that all?" Bi-Han held back a sigh. He could be doing important Grandmaster work. Instead he

And on the verge of slipping too, Liu Kang truly did hate him.

Well, he didn't hate him, Bi-Han knew this. He also knew that Liu Kang could have requested anyone for the job. But he had specifically requested for him. Why? It wasn't that he didn't like Liu Kang . . . Kinda. He made the Lin Kuei soft, weak.

But Liu Kang was also a childhood friend. Bi-Han saw him around the temple much growing up, speaking with important matters with his Father and Mother. Saw him help train Kuai Liang with his promancy.

He wouldn't say he hated Liu Kang. If anything, his company was enjoyable. If he needed Liu Kang to shut up so that he could think, the God would. If he needed deeper or clearer explanations, Liu Kang didn't look at him like he was stupid or unfitting of Grandmaster. The elders did, but Liu Kang set them in their place more times than Bi-Han could count.

He gave him friendship with an open hand.

And gods did Bi-Han hate it sometimes.

But in other words, Liu Kang wanted someone who didn't respect him as a God. Who didn't worship the ground he walked on.

And didn't talk his ears off the entire walk to an unexciting, potentially dangerous trip.

Bi-Han knew that when Liu Kang said people, he was being generous in his description. Not all were lucky as Syzoth. Not even Syzoth was as lucky as he tried to lead on.

But if they were just collecting his book? Books? They should be done with this quickly. And then he could go home, hide in his room, and probably take a nap.

The elders had been so mean all week, he was tired of their crap. He was tired of his workload. He didn't even want to be here.

Liu Kang sort of made up for it though.

"Yes, that is all," Liu Kang nodded, opening the door to Shang Tsung's laboratory. "It's practically already cleared, we're just double-checking."

The job was simple, easy.

. . . Too easy.

"You just didn't wish to go alone," Bi-Han said.

Liu Kang didn't reply as he walked into the old laboratory.

Bi-Han grumbled something before following.

The laboratory was practically wiped clean on the top floor. Bi-Han was lucky that he wasn't checking the prisons, he was sure just the sight would cause him to slip then and there.

The only things that really remained were some desk bolted down. But Liu Kang and Bi-Han began to search everywhere they could.

It wasn't until he did a double take at the floor that he saw a book.

Hidden. Or, more likely, fallen in between the cracks between the table and the wall. It was a tight squeeze, but Bi-Han was able to get it out.

"Lord Liu Kang! I have found-"

Bi-Han opened the book, and the front page itself was just horrifying.

Body mutilation, extreme body mutilation. Stuff only Havik could do.

Bi-Han gagged at the sight, slamming the book shut as he stumbled back.

In his stumble, he fell flat on the floor.

Bi-Han shakely pointed to the book. Normally he wasn't this affected by those types of pictures. He had grown up with that kind of stuff. He should be fine, why wasn't he fine?

Why did he have to feel so scared? Why was his body all shakey? Why wasn't he able to just brush it off.

Liu Kang rushed to his side, checking Bi-Han for any injuries. He was thankful that Bi-Han had just stumbled. Even he didn't want to look through the book later.

"THank goodness your okay," Liu Kang stood up, holding his hand out. "The notebooks are . . . something else entirely. They're- Bi-Han? Are you alright?"

Liu Kang knelt back to Bi-Han's height, watching as Bi-Han took shallow breaths, trying to control his breathing. Trying not to cry.

In all the years he knew Bi-Han, he could only count on one hand, maybe two, of the times he's seen the boy cry.

Bi-Han was shaking too, it was something Liu Kang had barely ever seen.

He gently grabbed BI-Han's hands, wanting to help ground him. His movements were slow, and gave Bi-Han enough time to pull away or yell at him.

But instead, Bi-Han grabbed his hands, tackling himself into Liu Kang's arms.

While it surprised the God, he squeezed Bi-Han in a firm hug.

And Bi-Han allowed himself to try and slip just a bit.

But instead, he just dropped.

And with his drop, he began to heavily sob.

"It was-!"

"I know," Liu Kang shushed him, rocking him gently.

"And it-!"

"I know," Liu Kang cut him off. "Don't think of such things, they've all gone bye bye. Someone so small should have never had those types of pictures. You're okay, you're all alright."

Liu Kang continued to rock Bi-Han, holding him firmly as he continued to whisper to him. Bi-Han hadn't felt this fuzzy in so long. He hadn't regressed in weeks, continuing to push it off to do this or do that. And everyone was trying to boss him around or try to 'help' him with his work. He was done. 

He was small, vulnerable, and scared. 

He was scared. 

He hadn't felt this amount of fear in so long. What was he scared of? The pictures? or the fact he was sobbing in Liu Kang's arms? Or the fact that Liu Kang knew he regressed? How did he even know? Did Tomas or Kuai Liang tell him? Sareena wouldn't betray him like this.

"Let's get you back home, alright?" Liu Kang whispered, standing up, carrying Bi-Han in a princess-style hold. Bi-Han didn't protest much, hiding in Liu Kang's shoulder.

Liu Kang made a portal, sliding the book inside before walking in himself. He slide the book under Bi-Han's bed, keeping that in memory so he'll be able to receive it later. Right now, Bi-Han was his main concern.

He always had a sneaking suspicion that Bi-Han regressed. He knew Kuai Liang and Tomas regressed. He knew Bi-Han took care of them. But sometimes when Tomas was small, he'd call Bi-Han 'Bi-Bi', and Bi-Han would become tense and try to quickly excuse himself. One time he tried to see Bi-Han one night, only to find Sareena making a bowl of goldish and mac and cheese. Neither of them spoke of that night.

Had he known Bi-Han was so close to dropping, he would have never had asked him to accompany him.

Liu Kang tried to sit Bi-Han on his bed, but Bi-Han continued to cry, holding onto him tightly. So instead, he held Bi-Han, shifting him to his hip so he could pace around, bouncing the boy.

It took a while, a very long while, until Bi-Han calmed down enough to soft cries and sniffles. At some point he had thrown his mask off. Putting a hand over his mouth and nose to try to silence his crying. Normally he didn't cry loudly, but he couldn't help it right now.

"Stop, you won't be able to breathe like that," Liu Kang worried, gently prying Bi-Han's hand off his mouth. Bi-Han began to suck on his thumb instead. "Do you have a paci?"

A paci? That was funny. He was grandmaster, he couldn't have a pacifier. What if someone found it? How was he going to explain it?

But goodness did he want one. He wanted one so badly. Before he completely gave up on the idea, he use to dream of a custom one. Probably baby blue and white, he liked blue. Maybe a bear on it, that would be cute.

Bi-Han shook his head and Liu Kang nodded. He couldn't lecture Bi-Han for sucking his thumb when it was all he really had for comfort.

"'Oor," Bi-Han mumbled, giving a small point to his door. He didn't like the fact it wasn't locked. SOmeone could easily walk inside. He couldn't have that, he just couldn't.

"Do you want the door locked?" Liu Kang asked, receiving a weak nod. "Alright, I'll shut the door."

Liu Kang realized how small Bi-Han had slipped, he couldn't be more than a few years old. Liu Kang was lucky that he had experiences watching littles this young, both for negative and positive reasons. 

Like times were Raiden had slipped extremely young after a long day of training, happy to be in his Dada's arms. 

Or where Syzoth would run and cling to him for sanctuary, sobbing and babbling for Dada to protect him.

Bi-Han suddenly gave a soft whine, making grabby hands for the bed.

Liu Kang sat on it, letting Bi-Han sit on his lap. Resting his head on the God's shoulder and sucking his thumb. He seemed better, not as freaked out.

If anything, he seemed sleepy. Very sleepy.

"Is it ni ni time?" Liu Kang asked softly. Bi-Han hiccuped and shook his head. "No? My my, that's a problem then. What do you want to do, Snowflake? You wanna just sit here and cuddle?"

Bi-Han made grabby hands for his bookshelf. Liu Kang carried him over and Bi-Han struggled to get an incredibly thick book out. Liu Kang helped him grab it, but Bi-Han had almost a death grip on the book.

Bi-Han liked this book. It was a safe book, not a scary book like Liu Kang's book was.

It was also one of the only comfort regression objects he had.

An easy excuse too, it was a gift from his mother long, long ago.

"A book full of nursery rhymes?" Liu Kang smiled, sitting back on the bed, letting Bi-Han practically lay on top of him so he was comfy. "Do you have a favorite one? Or a request?"

Bi-Han whined at Liu Kang's questions, running his finger over the content page. He was tired of Liu Kang being silly. He just wanted his stories.

Liu Kang nodded and pulled Bi-Han close to him. He expected at any time to be pushed away. But instead, Bi-Han accepted his warmth.

Bi-Han fell asleep somewhat halfway through the third rhyme. Poor thing was struggling so badly to keep his eyes open.

He gently put the book on Bi-Han's nightstand, but made to attempts to get up.

He had a hunch that when Bi-Han woke up, the poor baby was most likely going to still be small.

And the hissy fit or freak out afterwards was something he needed to be there to help with.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[bottombaron]

there is no way that Guillermo’s pussy wouldn’t drive Nandor absolutely mad with power

[rkvriki]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ things that make their heart flutter

HI I KNOW I'M BARELY ACTIVE ON THE TIMELINE IM SO SORRY LMAO. something really intersting is coming very soon so keep an eye out hehe!!! make sure to leave feedback and reblog! my requests are closed and my talk box is always open so lets talk!

WARNINGS ! mentions of hoon feeling down; my inspiration to write this was very low so the las ones ended up being longer than the first three im so sorry :'); mentions of won being stressed; ni-ki not being proud of himself :(

word count: 1.5k

୨୧ LEE HEESEUNG !

– kissing him when he’s still half-asleep

the sun rays started shining through the curtains, hitting your eyes. you slowly opened them trying to adjust to the strong (late) morning light. it had been a long week and you needed to sleep as much as you could, giving your body the rest it needed. you stretched your body before turning to the side, seeing your boyfriend still asleep with his arms stretched by his head. you smiled softly at the sight before you, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. when you pulled back you watched as his eyes fluttered, still in between sleep and reality. heeseung opened his eyes, trying to look at you, but sleep was stronger than him and his eyes closed back again. you let out a quiet laugh and leaned down to kiss his pouty lips this time. the corners of his lips twitched upwards and his cheeks were getting warmer, making you chuckle at him before kissing his cheek and getting up to start your day.

୨୧ PARK JONGSEONG !

– looking at him from across the table

you and jay had been invited to a dinner with all of your friends. it was in a very fancy restaurant. high ceilings and big chandeliers. you were sat with your girlfriends while he sat with his friends, further from you. you hadn’t seen them in what felt like forever, work had been keeping all of you busy now that the year was ending. you were all engaged in a conversation, keeping up with everything going on with each other and spilling the latest gossip at work. you were so immersed in the conversation you kind of forgot jay was there too and this wasn’t just a casual dinner with your friends so you looked behind you and saw jay with his sleeves rolled up, laughing with his own friends. it was in moments like this you wondered how you had scored a man like this. too lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice jay looking back at you. when his eyes made contact with yours, you playfully winked at him, making him look away while blushing, making you laugh at his behaviour as you tuned back into the conversation.

୨୧ SIM JAEYUN !

– brushing his hair away

it was one of those peaceful days where both you and jake had a day off from work. jake had slept over at your house and you two spent the whole day basically doing nothing but enjoying each other company, which is something rare since lately he’s had a busy schedule because comeback is just around the corner. you had a whole movie marathon planned for the day and you were already on your fourth movie. the clock had just hit 7pm and you were starting to feel sleepy. jake was currently lying with his head on your lap as you were sat with your legs spread on the couch. you looked down at him, seeing him focused on the movie, his cheeks flushed from sleepiness. you smiled softly at the sight, your hand making its own way down to his cheek, caressing the soft skin. he looked up at you, smiling softly as he tried to rub the sleep off his eyes. his hair was falling on his eyes so your hand moved upwards to brush his hair away from his eyes. he closed his eyes at the touch as he felt his cheeks warm up and his heart flutter at the simple yet affectionate action.

୨୧ PARK SUNGHOON !

— running your hands through his hair as he speaks

today had been a long day for sunghoon. everything felt like it was going wrong. from the way his day started with him forgetting to bring his umbrella and getting soaked on his walk from work, him continuously making mistakes during dance practice to him spilling his drink he had ordered along with some food for lunch. his day was not bound to go well and he had already accepted his fate. he was so frustrated with himself. hoe could he keep making stupid mistakes during rehearsal? even though everyone kept reassuring him it was fine to have off days he just couldn’t be easy on himself. he just needed nothing but spend time with you and feel your confronting presence. sunghoon was currently lying down in your bed as you sat on the edge of it by his head. you were letting him ramble about his day. since the moment he stepped inside your house you knew something was up with him and if you didn’t insist on him he would just bottle all those feelings up. he was ranting about all his unpleasant events of the day as you looked down at him with a soft gaze. as he spoke he felt your hand starting to caress his hair until it was running smoothly through its strands, making him stutter his words. you laughed at him as he covered his face, hiding his blushing cheeks.

୨୧ KIM SUNOO !

– the way you stare at him when he speaks

sunoo is a very talkative person and he isn’t ashamed of it. he loves talking about the things he loves and sharing them with you. every time he is telling you about something that happened to him he will not miss any details. you obviously didn’t mind, you loved listening to him talk and you would do it for hours (as if you didn’t already). every time you didn’t see each other for a long time, like when he went on tour he would tell you everything that happened while he was abroad. it was happening today. sunoo had just come back from tour and you both missed each other more than anything so you took a day off to spend together. you both walked through the centre of the city, walking by the river as you watched all the people gathered there. you went shopping and stopped by a plush store and sunoo literally begged you to let him buy you one just because it resembled you. now, you were both taking a break in a cafe, eating every kind of pastry while drinking hot drinks as sunoo told you funny stories that happened during their concerts. you watched as he spoke with such a happy face, showing just how much he loved what he did. your head was propped in your hand as you stared at him lovingly. he stopped talking, hiding his blushing cheeks, scolding you for looking at him in such a manner. you just smiled and leaned forward to leave a peck on his lips.

୨୧ YANG JUNGWON !

– holding his hand when he’s stressed

being a leader is probably the hardest position to be in a group, especially when you’re a young one. now, jungwon loves being a leader, he loves to know that the members rely on and trust him like no one, but when he is expected to give speeches wherever they go, it gets him really anxious and even stressed. he’s done it multiple times and he almost always used to it, but sometimes, like today, he needs to talk to a bigger crowd in a bigger event. he’s been restless for the whole day, reading his script over and over again, trying to memorize it. you heard it so many times you could probably do the speech yourself without looking at the paper. he was sitting next to you on a couch backstage. his leg was bouncing up and down and he was sighing way too many times. you were getting worried he would get it all wrong just because of stupid nerves. you grabbed his hand, making him still in his movements. he looked at you and you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, making him smile and nod at you appreciating the comfort you were trying to bring him.

୨୧ NISHIMURA RI-KI !

– communicating without words

ni-ki loved performing more than anything in this world. it was what he did for a living and he couldn’t be more grateful for that. everyone, even without an artistic eye, could tell he was damn good at what he did, but somehow, he was never proud of his work. he would always point out flaws here and there that nobody noticed. he was too hard on himself and it made you sad that he couldn't see how good he does when he’s on stage. today was an important performance for him, he was going to have a solo dance project and he had been practicing so hard for it there was no way he would make a mistake. ni-ki had invited you to watch the recording and you gladly accepted. you watched him as he danced with the two backup dancers with such good chemistry. when the recording wrapped up he had to walk straight to an interview. he was walking past you and from the looks of it he wasn’t too happy with the result of things. he turned to look at you, seeing you nod proudly at him as you silently clapped and gave him a thumbs up with a grim, making him smile as looked down to the floor, visibly flustered and warmed up cheeks.

[jyoongim]

Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!

This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!

⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!

—————————————————————————————

No one suspected a thing.

You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.

Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”

And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.

Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.

Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.

————————————————————————————

You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!

Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.

At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it

But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.

Especially Alastor.

Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.

Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.

A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.

Vox.

You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”

”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.

You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ” 

You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”

Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?” 

Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.

You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”

The phone call ended and you were in tears.

You didn’t want to go back. 

You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself. 

You liked the friends you had made here.

You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.

————————————————————————

“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.

You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.

You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.

”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”

You fiddled with your hands.

”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”

Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.

”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”

You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.

Of Vox and his plan.

The deal between you and Vox.

The reason you came to the hotel.

Everything.

”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!

Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.

Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.

The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.

His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.

 You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.

And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.

However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.

You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.

”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.

”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.

He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him

He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”

You wiped at your eyes “how so?”

“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.

He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox” 

He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.

”I know just the thing hehehe”

————————————————————————————

You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.

“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.

Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.

”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.

Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.

”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.

“I know you will baby” 

He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.

Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.

”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat. 

“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”

His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.

You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.

”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.

Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.

”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.

”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”

Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.

The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat. 

“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”

Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.

Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.

In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.

Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.

Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.

”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”

[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞.

✦ in need of a kiss? well, feel free to pick an experience from our finest collection! perhaps you’ll find one suited perfectly to your tastes?

(or, in other words, the types of kisses they give, and what it’s like to kiss them.)

✦ featuring: aventurine, dr. ratio, jing yuan.

✦ warnings: very kiss focused, not proofread.

✦ notes: these characters with this concept were particularly inspiring today, so i jotted down a little something really quick (might add more characters later in a pt. 2 later? idk)

also forgive me for any characterization errors please i'm still studying them

aventurine.

his kisses are greedy. 

he’s greedy, far too greedy, and selfish to boot— he wants everything you have to give, all for himself. he tastes like a burst of citrus on your tongue, always, always keeping you on your toes, his lips sneakily capturing everything they can, right down to the slightest sound that leaves your lips.

he wants as much of you as he can possibly get, and he’s perfectly capable of drawing it all out from you, bit by bit. he just needs the right bargaining chip, and he has it already, doesn’t he? 

a kiss, for a kiss.

 a fair trade, wouldn’t you say?

(he doesn’t make deals that don’t pay off, after all. and this thing he’s doing with you? well, it sure is raking in the profits.)

veritas ratio.

dr. ratio doesn’t do things in half measures. when he kisses you, it’s all or nothing; he will put his all into it.

he doesn’t confine himself to your lips, either. the philosophy is simple: what kind of learning would one hope to achieve by limiting themselves?

his hands travel all over, learning the wheres, the whens and the hows, almost as if he’s trying to see how you tick, while his lips embark on a journey of their own across the skin of your face, your jaw and your neck.

he kisses with diligence and precision and passion, meticulous and methodical, quickly adapting his methods to even the slightest of hints you send his way. every action he does is intentional and deliberate, so why should this be any different? 

oh, but make no mistake, for all his versatility and straightforwardness, he will not make it easy for you to keep up with him. 

but you can take a challenge, can’t you? 

jing yuan.

he is gentle, he is soft, he is slow— he kisses in the way that honey flows; lazy, languid, almost hypnotizing, like he has all the time in the world. he savors you the same way he savors the tea that lends his lips the subtle bitterness they carry, but they taste sweet all the same.

when he pulls away, a smile graces his face, one that lights up his eyes with adoration. soft as they are, they still command your undivided attention with the way you cannot seem to tear your gaze away from him. his hands still remain on your person though, holding you impossibly close.

and when he tenderly cradles your face in his palms, worries evaporate into air, thoughts slip away to spaces unknown, and moments stretch into lifetimes.

[steddielations]

Upstaged | Part 2 | Part 1

It all makes sense.

When Eddie comes back from taking photos with the fans, he looks a little sheepish for the first time. Steve has about a million things to ask, mostly he just wants to laugh about the fucking odds, but he remembers the grace Eddie extended to him about the press ordeal.

Instead, he settles back with his lime soda and a simple question, “So, what kind of music are you into?”

A grateful smile breaks out across Eddie’s face, ecstatic to dive into that with Steve. Their lunch extends into dinner. Steve doesn’t have anywhere to be these days and Eddie practically jumps up and down when the meeting he was in the area for gets canceled. They stay there for a couple more hours, just talking. 

Their music taste overlaps at certain points, Eddie talks about how getting his first guitar from the pawn shop pretty much saved him, Steve recounts a little league story that makes Eddie laugh so hard he chokes on his soda.

It’s the most monumentally casual time Steve’s ever had with a new friend in public and he’s not ready for it to end. Even after exchanging numbers and promising to meet up again, they still linger together outside.

“So uh, I remember where I know you from now."

Eddie leans against the side of the building. It’s getting dark, they’re tucked away from any eyes so Steve freely scoots closer to Eddie, waiting for him to explain. He does after a moment, seeming nervous and fiddling with his rings.

“I hate to ask, but my Uncle is huge into baseball, especially you and your general all-around-awesome thing. There weren’t players like you to look up to when he was young, all that. I’ve seen you on his tv so many times, you’re basically part of the family— ah shit, that’s weird, sorry,” he cringes a little, scrunching his nose in a way that makes Steve’s chest clench with affection, “But he’s getting old and like I said earlier, he’s my rock, he raised me and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least ask you to come see him sometime.”

The way he rambles is pretty endearing, looking at Steve with a wide-eyed hopeful expression, as if there was even a chance Steve would say no.

He reaches out, gently takes Eddie’s hand to stop his restless fidgeting, “You want me to meet your folks already, hm?”

Eddie lets out an amused scoff, looking down at their hands and back at Steve like he can’t believe it. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Steve.” 

Steve knits his brows, “Why’s that?”

“C’mon man. Y’know how hard it is to find someone who can handle this lifestyle, let alone all the shit that comes with me,” shaking his head a little, Eddie smiles but there’s something aching in it, “Then the nicest looking guy I’ve ever seen comes outta nowhere and saves my life, agrees to go to lunch, happens too know as well as me that life in the limelight ain’t always pretty and turns out to be one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

His fingers thread through Steve’s, holding tight like he’s not sure it’s real. “Even if I never see you again, I’m gonna write songs about you. I’d take you home and keep you right now if I could, but that’s not happening.”

There’s a part of Steve he’s kept shut down for years that comes pumping through his veins then, hot and alive. He realizes that he’s been trying so hard to keep his life as normal as possible that he’s been missing out on actually living it. Now he has this wonderful, crazy, wonderful man spontaneously in front of him and he’s not letting him slip away. 

Steve moves in, slowly crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s eyes go a little wide with surprise then darken with desire. Steve watches his face shift through so many emotions, his mouth parting with a soft gasp, wanting this just as badly as Steve.

“Wanna bet?” Steve asks before he crashes into Eddie again. 

This time it’s a hot press of lips instead of a full-body collision, but it’s just as breathtaking.

Steve deepens the kiss, thrill prickling all across his skin when Eddie opens up for him right away. Steve licks passed the bright hint of lime on their tongues to get to Eddie. The heady taste of him makes Steve’s world spin, all the desperate noises between them going straight to his head.

“Want you so bad, Eddie, wanna keep you too,” he threads his fingers into all that hair, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Eddie, “God, just wanna have you.”

Eddie chases his lips, “You can, Steve, you can have me— please do.”  

Steve loves the sound of that, going in for a longer, more indulgent kiss before pulling back.

“You can’t take me home tonight,” he professes hotly against Eddie’s lips, “My place is closer, you’re coming with me.”

[babydollmarauders]

PHASES — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which luke is pining for the girl he knows he’s destined to be with

notes: 4.3k words. this is a new style of writing for me and i truthfully don’t know about it but it felt right for this fic.

Luke Hughes knows a lot of things.

he knows hockey. he knows history. and he knows that in this moment, drunk on cheap beer and lip locked with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, she and he are destined to be together.

but life and love are never simple. drunken hookups between best friends don’t just automatically make them a couple. and no matter how badly he wants to scream that she should be with him, he knows he has to wait it out; give her time to come to the same realization that he did two years ago.

her back digs into the armrest of the battered couch, her legs draped across Luke’s own as his fingertips grip her upper thigh. their faces are drawn together, her hands tangled beautifully in his curls, pulling him closer toward her vodka soaked lips.

“Lukey,” his name rolls off her tongue like a whispered prayer, causing a singular beat to skip in his heart.

“what do you need, doll?”

“you.”

and her singular word is the driving force that brings Luke to his feet, her hand laced with his as he leads her to his bedroom. the people in his apartment cast away from his mind, only one person occupying that space.

her.

surely, Jack can handle the party that he threw, no one would miss Luke.

and that thought is what leads them to his room, their bodies pressed together in mere minutes. the next few hours spent tangled between cotton sheets. his feverish touch making her body shake, and her soft sounds causing an intense sensation of need within him.

hot breath mingles, their lips rarely straying from each others. sweat coated skin sticking together as they christen his bed for the umpteenth time. neither mind clear, they find solace and pleasure with her legs wrapped around his waist and his sloppy thrusts bringing them to the highest points.

and when they call it a night, Luke’s hand slamming the car door shut after she falls into the backseat of an uber, he falls back into the same spot he started the night.

waiting for fate to bring her home to him for the final time.

***

the restaurant feels suffocating, her dress itchy, causing her to wiggle uncomfortably in her chair.

her date doesn’t even seem to notice, rambling on once more about how cool it is that she works for the New Jersey Devils.

“i mean, you must get to be around the players all the time, right? how did you even get that job?” what was this one’s name? Carter? Carson? it started with a C, right?

“i went to University of Michigan. graduated a year early with a degree in sport management, and after working with the hockey team there, i was able to secure a spot working for the Devils.” she smiles, a weak timid thing that barely even reaches her cheeks, “but yeah, i do spend a lot of time around the players. kinda my job to get content of them, ya know?”

maybe-Carter chuckles, nodding his head, “so are you like, friends with any of them?”

‘oh, here we go’ she thinks.

“i went to school with Luke Hughes, he’s kind of my best friend.” it was an instinct really, an involuntary reaction; for a smile to creep across her lips when she talks about Luke, “but i can’t really say much about him or the guys, they’re people too and they deserve their privacy.”

“right, totally respect that,” he nods, his lips falling into a tight line, and she can’t help but notice that they aren’t as pillowy as Luke’s.

his lips don’t nearly look as comforting to kiss. and his curls; they don’t… curl the way Luke’s do. rather he has a head of tighter curls, unlike Luke’s unruly mess of loose curls and waves mingling together. his eyes aren’t the right color either, erring on the side of a blue closer to Jack’s; which makes a shiver run down her spine, discomfort settling within her.

“are you cold?” he asks, catching sight of the goosebumps that spread across her skin. he huffs a condescendingly toned laugh before continuing, “maybe you should’ve brought a jacket, restaurants run cold.”

that was where she drew the line. with his obnoxious attitude combined with his interest, which only peaked when discussing her job, y/n was surprised she lasted as long as she did.

and if the fact that he wasn’t similar enough to her best friend played a small part in her leaving? well, could she really be blamed?

after all, it was Luke’s fault.

it was Luke who made the first move his freshman year of college, both of them tipsy on drinks made by Dylan and his heavy hand with rum. it was Luke who made the sophomore girl fall for him two years ago. it was Luke who drunkenly tells her he loves her as he buries himself inside of her, knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge. and it was Luke who has her going on at least five dates a month, trying to force the Devils rookie out of her heart.

or at least, she blames it on Luke; because she couldn’t allow herself to admit that she fell in love with him of her own accord. she can’t allow herself to confess how quickly their drunken hookups turned into something more for her. and she certainly can’t dwell on the fact that she hasn’t put a stop to them. how could she? those are the only moments that she can let herself believe, even for a moment, that she could be his.

because despite how badly she wanted it, she could never be Luke’s. not in the way she wants to be. no matter how hard she tries, she can never find the words to express how much he means to her. how much she loves him.

*

Luke laid on the couch, the springs digging into his back uncomfortably.

“dude, we really need a new couch.” he huffs, “and why am i laying like this? i don’t think people actually lay down in therapy outside of tv shows.”

“shut up, i’m taking notes.” Luke’s eyes drift to his older brother, who occupies the space of the living room chair.

“notes on what? i haven’t even said anything!”

“you don’t need to. i’ve listened to you bitch and moan about y/n for two years, i’m writing what i can remember.” Jack explains, his brows furrowed in focus as his pen scribbles messily across the notepad on his lap.

“why did i let you talk me into this?” Luke rolls his eyes at his brothers antics.

“because you’re pussy-whipped and you’re playing like shit.” Jack looks up from the notepad, straightening his posture and settling his focus on Luke.

“is that a medical diagnosis?” Luke jokes, his brow raising as he chuckles.

“no, that’s brotherly criticism. you get that for free, courtesy of the nine months we each spent in mom’s womb.” Luke cringes at his brothers words, shaking his head.

“don’t talk about mom’s womb.”

“just speak, dude. what’s going on in that curly head of yours?”

Luke sighs, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. his hands fiddle with the cellphone that lays on his stomach, impatiently waiting for the text that he knows will come through.

it’s 10pm on an off day, he knows she’s got a date tonight. he also knows how her date will end; soon enough she’ll be texting him a long paragraph about how men suck and asking him to remind her why she can’t become a nun.

“well, i told you, i know she and i are meant to be together. i can feel it.” Luke starts, quickly cut off by the familiar grating voice he’s known his entire life.

“yeah, yeah, you’re a simp. move on.”

“has anyone ever told you that you’d make a horrible therapist?” Luke questions, head turning once more toward his brother.

“i can’t say anyone has, no.”

“yeah? well then, i’ll be the first.” he glares, “stick to hockey.”

“just keep talking, Lukey.”

“i think it’s getting harder to wait for her.” Luke confesses, and it feels like a small weight has been lifted off his chest; progress.

“so you wanna move on?” Jack asks, his pen scrawling along the paper again.

“no!” Luke huffs, sitting up on the couch to turn towards his brother, who quickly strikes out whatever he just wrote down, “i’m just saying that- that this whole waiting game is fucking with my head. Phil said i had to wait it out. he told me not to pressure her. practice my patience and let her come to the realization on her own.

“but, what if it goes on too long? she’s always going on dates, what if she meets someone else? what if it takes her ten years to realize what i realized like a month after we met?! what if she gets married before she realizes?”

“too many ‘what if’s’, dude. you’re hurting my brain.” Jack groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Luke, already in an emotional spiral, rolls his eyes, “what brain?”

“hey! i’m trying to help you here! don’t insult me!” Jack stands up, notepad falling to the floor and his hands drawing to his hips as he glares at the rookie defenseman.

“well you’re not much help.”

“you want my advice? either keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.”

“i’m going to bed.” Luke grumbles, pushing past the shorter man to go to his room.

“don’t forget, no morning skate tomorrow!” Jack calls out as Luke’s door clicks shut.

as Luke strips down to his boxers, his phone lights up on his bed, vibrating amongst the cotton sheets. and as he sees her name flashing on the screen, butterflies flutter in his core, making him swallow harshly in attempt to stop them.

he doesn’t even get a word out after accepting the call, her voice filtering through the speaker, “men suck.”

“oh yeah?” Luke can’t help but laugh at the repetitive cycle, “tell me more. how do we suck?”

“you just do, okay?” her tone is biting before she takes a sobering breath, “all he wanted to talk about was the team. i could practically see the walls shut down around him once i told him i couldn’t dish out the hot goss on players.”

“i’m sorry, y/n.” he’s not sorry. not even a little.

“remind me why i can’t be a nun?” her voice is distant as she takes the phone away from her ear so that she can unlock her apartment door.

“no tiktok and no sex.” Luke echoes for what feels like the hundredth time.

“right.” she kicks off her shoes, bumping the door shut behind her as her cat darts around between her legs, rubbing against her nylon tights, “you ready for the game tomorrow?”

“yeah.” no.

“good. i’m gonna go eat my weight in ice cream and scroll tiktok. goodnight, Lukey. thanks for the reminder and for listening to me rant.”

“any time. goodnight.”

as Luke lays in bed, he falls asleep with Jack’s advice echoing in his head.

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

meanwhile, y/n slumps on her sofa, a pint of ben & jerry’s in her hand as she looks down at the little ball of black fur that’s taken up residence by her feet.

“have you ever been in love, Sir Nightingale?”

the cat blinks back at her, patiently waiting for her attention. which comes in the form of her fingernails scratching lazily under his chin.

“i have.” she continues the one sided conversation, “it fucking sucks. never fall in love.”

***

the game was an absolute shit show.

Luke had taken a shoddy penalty in the first period; for delay of game, out of all things. which lead to a power play goal by the opposing team and leaving the Devils down by two.

it was only about five minutes later that Luke got an assist on a goal of Jack’s, but ultimately, the game still ended six to two, not in the Devils favor. not only did the team get yelled at for their lack of adequate effort, but Luke was singled out for at least two turned over pucks, which lead to opposing team goals.

and to make a bad night even worse, when all was said and done and Luke was finally showered and ready to just go home and wallow in the loss, he left the locker room to find y/n chatting with one of the equipment managers, Ben.

her hair twirled around her finger as she laughed at something Ben said, a red flush on her cheeks. Luke felt deflated, to say the least.

it was always someone else.

never him. never Luke.

he felt overlooked, and perhaps even unnoticed. it was like she never even saw him as an option, only ever the object of her desires when they were both tipsy and horny and already together.

and yet the feeling was still there. settled low within his gut, he still knew; he’s the one for her. he knows. he’s fairly certain that deep down, she knows it too.

is it his age? it’s only a year’s difference, surely it doesn’t matter, right? it was something else. it had to be, but he truly didn’t know what.

“y/n.” his voice carries through the hallway, settling in her ears and catching her attention.

turning towards him with wide doe eyes and parted lips, she smiles, “hey!”

“am i still giving you a ride home?” Luke’s expression is stony, giving nothing of his feelings away. though, he can’t help the way his eyes gravitate to the man behind her, Luke’s blank stare making the man cower just slightly.

and Luke almost felt proud of that. almost.

“actually, i think Ben and i are gonna go for some drinks. i’ll catch up with you tomorrow, yeah?”

his shoulders slump, his posture crumpling the same way his heart did in his chest.

“yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Luke barely gets two steps closer to the arena exit before her voice calls out, stopping him in his tracks. her heels click against the floor as fast as she could move, before she pops up in his vision.

“you played good. a few mistakes are normal, it’s your first full season, the most games you’ve ever played,” her voice is gentle, her eyes peering up at him softly through her wispy lashes, “i’m proud of you. don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?”

her arms wrap around his torso before he can even respond, her face buried in the chest of his suit. and before his heart can reach a normal pace again, before he can wrap his arms around her in return, she’s pulling away.

with a wave of her hand and a small but awe-strikingly beautiful smile playing upon her lips, she’s walking away. back to Ben, who waits for her by the arena exit now.

and once more, Jack’s voice is back inside Luke’s head. driving him absolutely insane as he watches the love of his life walk out of the building, giggling at something another man said.

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

*

keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

tell her how you feel.

“tell her how you feel.” Luke wakes with a startle, his head knocking against his brother’s, who was leaning over him.

Jack curses, hissing in pain as he holds a hand his forehead.

“what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Luke groans, voice groggy as he takes in his surroundings.

“i got up to take a piss and i could hear your phone blowing up all the way from the bathroom,” Jack explains, “shit, you have a bony ass head.”

“it’s called a skull. i know yours doesn’t house anything inside of it, but even i assumed you’d know what it is.”

Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “ya know what? just for that, i take back my advice. fuck off and die alone, what do i care?”

“why were you giving me advice at-” Luke slides his phone off his nightstand, checking the time, “two in the morning?”

“she’s blowing up your phone.” Jack scowls, “something something men suck something something maybe being a nun is worth the no tiktok?”

Luke feels an odd sense of relief as he looks at his recent texts, finding exactly what Jack had described.

well, without the ‘something something’s.

“pretty sure you were saying her name in your sleep too,” Jack smirks, backing away towards the bedroom door, “tell her how you feel, dickhead. put you both out of your misery so i can get some sleep and not listen to your incessant whining.”

with that, Jack leaves, the wooden door clicking shut in its frame behind him.

reading through the texts, Luke gathers that she and Ben didn’t get very far into the night together, seeing as her messages were still legible, something drunk her could never accomplish.

the thought brings him an unnecessary amount of joy. but then he’s hit with an overwhelming sense of annoyance, remembering he’ll have to go through this process all over again soon.

truthfully, he doesn’t know how much more he can take. he’s not giving up on her, on the contrary, maybe Jack is right. maybe Phil couldn’t give advice for all women and maybe Luke should just stop waiting.

she wasn’t coming to a realization quick enough and honestly, Luke is fucking tired. tired of drunken hookups. tired of listening to her rant about failed dates and sucky guys. tired of being overlooked as an option. tired of his feelings going unnoticed.

the dial tone was ringing in his ear before Luke even realized that he had made a decision, like his hands were working on autopilot. like his heart knew what he would decide before his brain did.

“hey! did i wake you?” her words weren’t slurred, Luke noted. that’s good, she doesn’t even sound tipsy. she’s in a sound state of mind for his confession.

“no,” he shook his head, despite knowing she could see him, “well, yes but no? you didn’t wake me up but Jack did, he could hear my phone buzzing.”

“oh shit, i’m sorry! we can talk tomorrow if you wanna go back to sleep, i’m just about to-”

“i love you,” immediately, Luke is regretting this decision; the silence on the other end of the phone making him bite his lip in anxiety.

“what?” her voice cracks as she giggles, “Luke, are you drunk? did you drink before you went to bed?”

“no,” he groans out, his head dropping back in frustration, “i swear, i haven’t touched any alcohol tonight. just listen to me.”

“i’m always listening to you, Lukey.” her eyes widen as she sits on the edge of her plush bed, “i just don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“i love you,” he repeats, rolling his shoulders in attempt to psych himself back up before he takes a deep breath.

“i’m in love with you. i have been since freshman year. i think that somewhere deep down, you know just as much as i do, that you’re meant to be mine. and i’ve waited two years for you to realize it. i’ve been patient, i’ve held back, i’ve waited on the sidelines while you go out on dates and i’ve listened to you rant about men. and that’s no problem; when i’m done, if you decide you’re still not ready, i’ll continue to wait for you. because even if you’re not mine, i’m yours, y/n. but, i need to get this off my chest and i need you to know that i’m in love with you. my life isn’t complete without yours. and when you’re ready, i’ll be here waiting for you. i’ll always be here. when you’re ready for the drunk hookups to turn into sober love, i’m gonna be right here. because i think that’s our fate. i think that we were destined to find each other and i think we were meant to have this storyline in our love story, and i know that one day you’ll realize it too. you can tell me i’m insane, you can tell me you don’t feel the same, you can even tell me to fuck off, if that’s what you wanna do. i’ll back off, i won’t say another word, but i’ll still be waiting.”

y/n is silent, her hands shaking as she breathes through the tears that roll down her cheeks. in return, Luke is quiet too, patiently waiting for her to digest everything he just confessed. every built up feeling that he just let slip out of him.

“i love you too.” it feels like all the weight she’s been shouldering has been listed off of her with the utterance of those four simple words.

“you do?” he feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s just been knocked against the boards and his lungs forgot how to take in oxygen.

“yes. Luke, why do you think i go on those dates? have you not noticed that almost every guy i go out with resembles you? i didn’t know if you felt the same way, i didn’t know how to tell you how i felt without risking our entire friendship going up in flames. Luke, i’m so fucking in love with you and it hurt. for two years, i’ve reveled in our drunken moments because i thought that was all i’d ever get. i dreaded the day that you would meet someone and tell me it has to stop. i fell for you so hard and it was so scary and i just- i had to try and move on. i had to try and meet someone before ultimately, you did. because i knew that if you told me you met someone, and i was still in love with you? i would never recover from that, Luke. i wouldn’t. and now you’re saying this and i, god i feel so fucking stupidly in love with you. you don’t have to wait anymore, because i realized i love you a long time ago.”

Luke pushes out of his bed, any interest in sleep lost to him. pulling on a hoodie and an abandoned pair of sweatpants from his bedroom floor, he doesn’t even bother telling Jack that he’s leaving.

“god, i need to kiss you.” he slips on his nike slides, his fingers nimbly plucking his keys off the hook by the front door, and as quickly as he could manage, he was out of there.

“you can kiss me tomorrow, Lukey.” she smiles, finally rising from her bed to finish her nightly routine.

that is, until she hears a key turn in her front door. her eyebrows pull together as she wonders out of her room, greeted by sight of a disheveled Luke in her apartment doorway, who looks like he just ran down the stairs to get there.

hanging up the phone, she grins back at the tall boy.

“or i can kiss you now.” a playful smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he taking wide glides over to her.

his hands find her cheeks, his thumbs wiping gently over the supple, tear stained skin. the apartment is silent, their heartbeats racing as she gazes up at his beautiful eyes.

“or you can kiss me now.” she echoes, her words mumbled and low.

that’s the final straw, the confirmation Luke desperately needed, and finally, he allows his head to dip down. her lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly of mint ice cream, and warmth spreads across his body, starting at his chest and almost blossoming across his body. Luke feels at home.

her hands desperately cling to his hoodie, as though he’ll disappear if she lets go, and his slide back to cup the nape of her neck. she has no desire to pull away, but her lungs spread with fire until she’s forced apart by the need to breathe.

“i love you.” she whispers, eyes closed as she rests her forehead against his own, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she bites back a lovelorn smile.

“i love you, sweet girl.”

“please don’t go back home. spend the night?” she finally opens her eyes, her head tipping back as he straightens up.

a pink hue glows upon his cheeks, and she can’t resist letting the backs of her fingers gently graze over the heated skin.

“not going anywhere, baby. staying right here.” his lips brush against her forehead, leaving a fleeting kiss in their wake and making her heartbeat flutter within her rib cage.

it feels right, the way they go about a new bed time routine. luke’s arms wrapped around her waist as she brushes her teeth, his eyes boring into her reflection. her head on his chest as they fall asleep, his alarm on for them to wake up for morning skate, together.

and if they were holding hands when they walked into the rink, if they were a cheesy couple who kissed before he entered the locker room, if his smile was a bit too wide in the tiktok she filmed for the Devils socials, if she chose the question ‘do you believe in fate?’ solely because of him, could they really be blamed?

[readychilledwine]

hii!! i’m in love w your writing!!❤️❤️❤️ can i please request one where it’s azriel x reader. Feyre sees azriel wearing a ring on his left finger and asks,

” i’ve seen you wear that ring forever azriel, what does it mean? ”

” it’s my wedding ring ”

and her jaw drops bc she didn’t know he even had a lover.

” who is she? do i know her? what is she like? ”

he smiles faintly and says

” her name is y/n, she’s my mate and wife and she isn’t a warrior like us, she works at a library downtown. you don’t know her, only rhys and cassian do. we have a house in the outskirts in velaris. she is very sweet and i love her more than anything, our daughter is- ”

” YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER ????? ”

he nods and tells them all about her, he asks if feyre wants to meet reader and their daughter and feyre smiles and nods. He asks reader in the mating bond if it’s okay to bring her, nyx, rhys and cassian to dinner. reader says yes and azriel tells feyre he’ll pick them all up tonight before leaving to help his wife prepare. Reader meets feyre and become friends instantly, nyx and their daughter become friends aswell.

” how did i not know this?? this makes so much sense now. How he never sleeps here and he’s gone for days sometimes but not on missions. ” feyre asks rhysand.

”don’t worry i didn’t know for a long time either, Az is a very private person, he is extremely protective of his family. i’m glad he told me at all. either way he’s still a mystery sometimes, i learn new things about him all the time and i’ve known him for over 500 years” rhys says and laughs knowing your perfect for his brother 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️😭🥹😍

Haven

Warnings - none

A/n - I played with this for a while, rewrote it several times, and then made something that met in the middle of what came to mind, but still stuck with the request. Hopefully, you love it, dear 💜

Feyre had been in Velaris for 5 years. 5 long years and she had yet to figure out why Azriel kept a simple black band on his left ring finger at all times.

The two of them were on the couch, Rhys across from them, as they looked over maps of a few of the Illyrian Camps that had been recently renovated. The new cabins, mess halls, and dorms were a huge success, and figuring out the same layout for the remaining few was a huge topic of interest for the three smaller camps.

She glanced at the ring one more time before tapping it. Rhys and Azriel both looked at her, brows raised. "So, not magic," she muttered to herself. She tried spell cleaving it, "And not a ward or shield."

Azriel blinked at her, brows knit in silent question. Rhys had his hand over his mouth, hiding his amusement. Leave it to his wife to provide entertainment without knowing it was needed. "I-" she sighed. "You wear this ring all the time. I'm trying to figure out why."

Both of the males chuckled. "Probably the same reason you wear your wedding ring, Feyre Darling."

The High Lady made face, tapping the ring again. "Don't be ridiculous, Rhys. I would know if Azriel was married."

"Evidently not, my love."

Feyre and Azriel held eye contact, the male then going back to the maps. "Since I have extensive time in Steppes Peak, I think it would be easiest to move the mess hall here, at the base of the mountain, maintain the warroom in the carved out cave, and build better dorms here," he pointed to an empty part of the map.

Rhys nodded, drawing it out on the empty map he had. "I'm sure y/n will agree with whatever you say."

"Okay, stop." Feyre crossed her arms, pouting slightly at the two of them. "Azriel isn't married, and making up some name to make me feel stupid isn't kind."

Azriel sighed. He leaned back while dropping the scent ward he kept on himself at all times. He watched as her face fell. He knew his scent, chilled air and cedar, was the predominant one in the mateship, but now a soft floral scent, something like lavender and warm honey clung there softly.

"I've been married for longer than you have been alive, Fey." Azriel patted her hand. "I have a daughter older than you and another younger than Nyx."

He watched as her face fell, a small amount of hurt flashing across it. "Why didn't you tell me?" She paused, looking at the sleeping heir in his craddle. "We could be having play dates. I could have a friend who understands."

Guilt settled into his face as he pulled her into him. "I torture people for living, sweet sister. I execute people on your orders. I imprison people with a flick of your wrist." He tilted Feyre's head up. "Y/n has no combat training and refused to learn. She likes to sit at home writing poetry, baking, and cuddling our children. I do not bring her around or introduce them to anyone to keep them safe." His face held the ghost of a rare smile. "I think I've brought her to meet Rhys and Cassian once."

Rhys nodded. "I've met her once here and several times behind your back in town. Especially after my first niece was born."

Feyre kept her gaze on Nyx. "He could have a friend," her voice was distant.

Azriel stood, placing a kiss on her forehead as he did. "I'll be right back." Rhysand's smile grew wide. Folding the maps and putting them away. He moved to the liquor cabinet, bringing down one of his more expensive wines.

Azriel reappeared with you and both daughters in tow. Your oldest ran to Rhys, jumping on him and holding him tightly, her wings fluttering with joy as she did. "Hello, Amara," he nuzzled into her hair. "Missed you so much, baby girl. Cassian is on his way."

He walked with her in his arms to the table, setting the wine down and then carried her over to Feyre. "Would you like to meet your aunt?" She allowed Rhys to set her down and turned toward Feyre.

There was little question she was Azriel's. She was the beautiful artists dreamed of painting. Soft classic features framed with inky black hair that fell in gorgeous curls. "Feyre, this is our niece Amara. She's 56. She was my favorite suprise when I got home from the mountain."

She smiled shyly, keeping close to Rhysand. "Hi."

"Hi," Feyre didn't know what came over her, pulling the Illyrian female close to her and holding her. "I'm so excited to meet you."

Amara wrapped her arms around Feyre, returning the gesture. "Me too. Mom and I have been BEGGING dad for a while. But you know how the bats are."

The door slammed open, rushed loud footsteps and a panting filling the hall. "Where's my baby?!"

Amara pulled away from Feyre, smiling softly before moving away from all of them. She was rushed by Cassian, lifted up into his arms as he spun her.

Feyre looked to her side, noticing Azriel next to her, holding a swaddled bundle. "This is Iris. She's a month younger than Nyx." Azriel wouldn't look away from his daughter and her peaceful sleeping face. "I fear the day she loses her chipmunk cheeks."

Feyre looked around the room, trying to find the reason this was happening and felt her heart shift when she saw you, arm wrapped around Rhysand's bicep, looking at Nyx.

You were wingless, long dark hair braided back. Soft leggings and a sweater that was a few sizes too big covering your frame. Cassian had moved next to you, bumping you with his arm and smiling down at you. "He's so beautiful," your voice was a melody, a soft echo that brought calm to the room. "And so sweet. Look at those rosy cheeks."

Rhysand pulled you away, moving you back to Feyre. He handed you to Azriel, arms out expectedly. "Don't make me command it."

The shadowsinger placed his youngest in Rhysand's arms, hands shaking despite the trust between them, "Be careful with her. Please." Rhys nodded, moving over to Cassian. "Feyre, this is y/n, my wife and mat-"

Feyre didn't allow him to finish, hugging you instantly, tears lining her eyes as she did. "Please tell me we can be friends and cry about our babies together."

"I didn't realize that would even be a question. Of course we will be friends, and of course we will cry about all of the things. Our mates don't get it. Cassian, though, Cassian will join us."

The warlord stuck one finger in your direction. "Let me love them in peace, y/n."

You leaned into Feyre, "Has he cried while holding Nyx yet?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah. Big illyrian baby."

"The worst, aren't they? Rhysand, did you want me to make dinner?"

The High lord looked at Azriel, a small look of guilt on his face, "Please."

You squeezed Feyre's arm, kissing Azriel as you moved towards the kitchen. "You know where to find me if she needs me." He nodded.

Azriel moved to Cassian, watching like a hawk as the general snuggled the small babe in his arms. Amara was sitting by Nyx a look of love and adoration on her face as she sighed.

"She's perfect for Azriel in every way," Rhys stroked Feyre's hand. "I was nervous at first too when he brought her home. I was even more nervous when his fears manifested in the form of being deeply private with her. But she is perfect for him."

Feyre nodded, watching as Azriel glared as Cassian due to the loud squeak his baby had just let out.

"His girls are beautiful." Rhys hummed in agreement. "Y/n is beautiful."

Feyre moved to Amara's side, sitting next to her and smiling as her niece started asking questions.

She didn't realize it until now, but this was the missing piece. The part of the puzzle that had sat empty despite every thing around it being done. You and your girls were that lost center.

Now she just had to convince Azriel to keep bringing you around.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

[suguru-getos]

jjk men as the type of yanderes:

characters included: gojo, geto, yuta, megumi, sukuna

gojo satoru:

yandere tendency: manipulative, overpowered, soft.

gojo satoru is the type of yandere who will be fine with most of your antics. his little baby trying so hard to annoy him? how absolutely adorable of her. the thing is, he also knows he is too powerful for you and that subjecting you to that power is going to have consequences. he's always kind, nice, happy-go-lucky around you. he tries to take the subtle route, ask you out for dates and stuff but he lacks patience. he has so much love to offer he can't wait for you to reciprocate. he would eventually just kidnap you. however you get everything you want and need. he wouldn't even take your phone away, just don't talk to men and don't even… dare. to talk. about. leaving him. that triggers him. the only time he has been truly, unforgiving and blinding hot with his rage was when you fled away from the gojo estate. you saw him dancing around in the sky, floating with a maniacal grin as you tried to hide amongst the flooded trees in the estate where he just chanted. "no matter where you go, I will find you always, come out on your own and you won't see daddy's punishments." he meant it, and you didn't have the guts to disobey him. like a squeaky, meek rat, you came out from under one of the trees, satoru in front of you looking down with gritted jaw. "haven't I given you enough?" his hold on your jaw is firm as he picks you up, tosses you over his shoulder and walks back to the estate. his coldness is difficult to handle since he's always simping around you, but let's say you needed to re-assure him that you wouldn't leave by giving him your first kiss. he doesn't really do forcing but you'd much rather have the old satoru back. this one has trust issues and this one knows how to manipulate you. "you know one of these days you'd make me so angry I kill everyone you hold dear princess. it wouldn't be something I would want to do… but I- i- just lose control." scary, nice, and ever so kind and manipulative>

geto suguru:

yandere tendency: hot and cold, gaslighting, extremely loving.

suguru is simple and patient. as long as you are in front of his eyes he does not mind anything at all. however, there are times when his carefully twisted smile turns into a frown whenever you disobey him. suguru is good to you when you are good to him. if you do not listen to him then there are punishments for everything. maybe you wouldn't get to talk to your friends for a week. "you don’t deserve me being so kind when all you do is hurt me." suguru knows how to bend you to his will, when you get rebellious over it and ex: stop eating food, he does not have any problem forcing food down your throat by keeping one of his curses latched to your body. what else can you do? vomit it out?? out of sheer spite?? suguru geto has a solution for everything. if you do so, he's going to pretend he's surrendering, hold you in his arms and be so kind as if he's so guilty for making 'you' act up. if only he'd been good enough yeah? then you wouldn't be so rebellious. he's going to be so good, show his true devotion to you. aw? why're you crying? he's just trying to make you cum! over and over and over! hey! it’s just body worship. don't squirm away angel… at the end of it you're a sobbing, overstimulated mess and bent down to his will. suguru can make punishments sexual because he's delusional enough to think that giving you painful pleasure is not equal to hurting you. he would give you so much aftercare though, call you perfect, call you a champion for dealing with it, give you body massages, if you really don't bend to his will… he's manipulative enough to kneel down and stain your thighs with his tears as he leans his head on your thigh and mumbles how sorry he truly feels.

yuta okkutsu:

yandere tendency: too nice, forgiving, delusional.

yuta knows being couped up like this does not feel nice. he calls you his little hummingbird. because you sound so adorable begging and screaming to be freed. if only he could do that. "the world outside is really bad baby, I'm sure you don't know that and I'm so glad you don't. I will make sure you wouldn't know anything about it as well." he has you on his lap, forcing a hug and tearing up whenever you resist. his heart gets instantly broken when you resist his affections though. that… makes him extremely dramatic. why would you do that to him? hasn't he been nice? yuta would never willingly, knowingly hurt you. never… but accidents happen okay? especially when someone loves you so much, then the betrayal also brings the worst emotions there is. he would 'accidentally' break your wrist by holding you too tight when you're squirming away, would accidentally cause you dizzy spells by kissing you too hard. you're just so delectable and so easily broken how can someone like him keep steady? after the accidents happen yuta changes, he almost goes… distant. as if he does not trust himself around you. around his precious little baby… until it re-starts all over again. however, he does have a stern belief that you love him too. you're just too shy to accept. his beautiful, shy little thing.

fushiguro megumi:

yandere tendency: stern, disciplining, in-control

fushiguro is no stranger to the twisted feeling that brims within the depths of his heart whenever he sees you. but he also knows that it would be futile to expect you to feel the same. he knows he needs to earn it. but god- when you love someone else already? why did you have to do that? can't you really see you were meant for him? the logical part him tries to overpower the illogical, love-sick version and fantasy of you taking his cock and belly full with his kids but falls in vain. megumi really is sorry… when he strangles your partner to death in front of you. he really does not want you to see it, but then how else will he show you what he is capable of? what he can do if you do not listen to him? he lets you take your space after and grieve in his bedroom, which is now your shared bedroom. the first few weeks, you're too terrified of him to not listen to him. however… he doesn't even touch you. you just have a few set of rules. eat on time, sleep on time, come to him for anything and forget about everything except him. he would sit beside you and run his hands through your hair, soothing you through the breakdowns. "I will tolerate this for as long as you need, but do know… that man is dead for a reason. no person in love with you is allowed to live. except me." megumi is almost unhinged with his feelings and there would be repercussions. for example: you said you would rather die than love him? how can you say that? have you seen the future? no right? then how could you say that? nothing breaks a brat better than some spanking. the humiliation intermingled with the pain is sure to set you straight. and yes- it does. at the end of it, you're too bent to his will, seeking comfort from him as you cry out against his chest and he softly coos sweet nothings against your ear.

ryomen sukuna:

yandere tendency: sadistic, lethal, manipulative, selfish

half of the time, sukuna does not acknowledge that he has fallen for a human. you're torn with the king of curses fighting with his own self, and still keeping you close. sukuna does not show affection normally. he is the master of evil, the pure reincarnation of all the negativity. at first he would keep you with him. his true form is too big and too scary for you to retaliate either. you just need to be a puppet. he hates and loves it how you are so teeny tiny compared to him. a feeble little human, his little lamb. he often threatens you with pure violence. he would rip a finger out and heal you with reversed curse techniques since he does not like his masterpiece broken. rules are simple: you do what sukuna sama desires and what sukuna sama wants. otherwise- you suffer the punishments. there are times where he had been cruel enough to eat your past relationships in front of you, alive, the sound of gnawing at flesh as he consumes them while the high adrenaline keeping them alive is your worst nightmare. you are allowed to throw up, it is a gory sight of course. but then you must apologize for being filthy in front of your master by sitting on both his cocks. very unhinged, the scariest yandere in the jjk-verse imo.

[o4i0n]

do u guys think miguel gets hard if ur nice to him ., miguel nation what do we think 

reblogs, comments & likes r highly appreciated !

it’s not like you being nice is anything out of the ordinary—if anything, it’s one of the things that comes the most naturally to you and what others notice whenever they catch you around. your care comes in the form of small, gentle reminders, shared smiles when your eyes meet another’s, or asking how things are when you pass by someone else to make simple conversation. nothing special, really, but it’s sweet. 

miguel o’hara thinks that it’s too sweet, but it’s more of a ‘him’ problem, if anything. he’s not even supposed to be this worked up over something as careless as your hand brushing against his shoulder to let him know that you’re there for him that’s coupled with a chipper ‘bye!’ thrown his way before you turn around and leave, but he is. every time you leave him be, the throbbing ache that settles between his legs grows a lot heavier, and he knows that if he deals with it, it would just make things worse. 

it’s not like he has any plans to stop, though. he may be growing tired of the countless times he’s caught himself thinking about you, the image of your pretty self occupying his mind so much that he swears he sees you even when he closes his eyes, but the scenarios that he’s so keen on turning into a reality make the job a whole lot easier. there may be a twinge of guilt that crosses his mind after he spills into his hand once he’s done fucking himself raw into his fist, but he tries not to thinking about it too much. even when you’re not there, you’re still assisting him in some way. 

which is why he thinks that the universe is playing one massive, fucked-up prank on him when you chose the worst time to drop by his office—that dark, secluded area away from everyone else that he considers an office, anyway—and get greeted with the sight of him biting down on his fist while he furiously ruts into his hand in an attempt to get off. the need that emanates off his body is palpable; no matter how fast he’s stroking himself or how desperately he’s letting his fingers swipe over his leaking tip as pre-come trickles down the remainder of his length, he still can’t come. right now, the sounds that he’s making have more emotion than in any of the words he’s spoken to you, or to anyone, for that matter. it doesn’t make it easier that he’s suddenly terrified of how you’d treat him after seeing that spectacle of pure desperation on his part once he notices you’re there. 

but you, being you, are nothing short of understanding. when miguel asks you to leave (well, he kind of shouts at you because you were never supposed to see anything like that), you’re so caught up by what you saw that you stupidly offer to help him out, your voice and demeanor taking on your trademark shyness. 

miguel is many things, and you know him to be an incredibly efficient man. everything that follows is a blur, and you end up sprawled out on his desk, your clothes haphazardly tugged out of the way so that he could take up up on your offer. 

“you’re too fuckin’ nice,” he whines, wasting no time to peel away your panties and drag his fingers over your entrance. it almost sounds like he’s complaining at the fact that you are the way you are, but he doesn’t say anything. as his fingers curiously prod at your pussy to spread you nicely for him, his free hand is wrapped around his cock, dripping with his own arousal as it lays heavy in his fingers. 

a soft whimper slips out of your lips as he toys with your body, and it’s only sinking in now that you’re not sure if you can take all of him. but he needs help, right? he needs to feel better, so you keep your legs apart for him while he rubs the head of his cock on your sensitive clit. 

when he hears that, it takes all of his self-control to not sink his cock deep into your sweet little cunt right then and there. “i just—s’too much for a guy to take,” he mumbles, trying to push his tip past your soaked folds, because he’s so nice to let you off easy for now since he knows he’s big. “i never know if you’re teasing or not.” and it’s true; the way you tread so carefully and so gently with everyone, especially with him, makes him wonder whether or not this is your way of being coy. “it’s like you’re begging me to fuck you.” 

miguel doesn’t know where all these words are coming from because he knows for a fact that he’s not all that open with anything, much less with things this personal. however, there’s something about the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes and being completely exposed in a way he’s fantasized about for so long that it sends him reeling. 

you’ve been so nice for him, going above and beyond for something you don’t even need to do; of course he needs to return the favor by making you feel good too! it’s only fair, after all, that he shows his very specific way of thanking you. 

the moment you give him the go, he slides right into you, your wetness and his pre-come making it easier for him to finally feel what it is he’s been dreaming about for so long. he can’t stop the low moan that escapes him when he feels your warm walls enveloping his cock, your pussy so accommodating and welcoming, just like you. he’s so relieved that it’s not his hand that’s making him feel this way anymore; immediately, he wants to bottom out, to bury himself so deep inside you that he’s positive his tip nudges against your cervix. he never thought that you’d be so kind as to let him fuck you, and he’s so eager to draw out all those sounds and reactions when you let him take you. 

he pushes in deeper, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit because he knows it’ll make you whine. “don’t think i can control myself, pretty girl,” he groans out, all the sensations hitting him like a ton of bricks, and he’s resisting the urge to move right after as you’re adjusting to him. you’re equally as fucked out as miguel and he’s not even all the way in yet. “i won’t stop until you’re crying for me, okay?” 

first time dabbling into smut writing so please be kind nyahaha also if there r grammatical errors no there aren't haha wdym

[diejager]

how does a (monster AU) phoenix! reader sound? ...I kinda imagine 141 (except price) getting a heart attack when reader takes a bullet and bursts into flames and then a heap of ash, and then (im pulling a harry potter description of pheonix but its ur choice) the most ugly bird or something pokes their head out of the ashes and they're like '...oh'.

I remember watching Fawkes burning and turning to ash before he popped his head out. So adorable.

Ashes Cw: burning, death, rebirth, tell me if I missed any.

Ghost knew when someone was lying, able to sniff out a liar within a mile. Your dimmer smile, shorter laughter and exhaiusted expression, nothing seemed to make your days better than a warm bump of tea once or twice a day to sooth the ache in your bones and the strain in your muscles. He’d approach you with a clear mind, wanting to get to the bottom of your sickness, why you’d occasionally cough, voice weak and breathy until it cracked. You told him you were fine, that it was just the weather affecting you, but he’d seen this kind of sickness before, a cold that sunk into the bones and clogged every sinuses with intent —sick and vulnerable.

He wasn’t alone in this thought, Alejandro and Gaz shared similar doubts, coming forth to Price with their fears rather than sneaking around like he did, but Price had waved them off, telling them that it was a seasonal thing, you got sick from time to time and rose back from it as if death failed to catch you. This did not seem like something simple and mundane, Ghost could see death follow you like it followed him, it was ever present, so much so that Alejandro and Horangi - the two with the weakest nose out of the four - could smell it ooze off you like a dark miasma plaguing your body.

It seemed as if the both of you shared something that the others weren’t privy to, a low whisper in the dark that they failed to catch or the secret you shared through confidentiality higher than even a colonel. The captain knew you before you joined them, forming a tight connection through past trauma and fuck ups. Perhaps that’s why Price seemed almost chipper about your saddening state.

It seemed that Ghost was kept in as much darkness as the rest, the higher ups had kept it hidden from him, from König and from Alejandro who should’ve had the jurisdiction to have access to your documents. Especially after seeing you burst into flames after being shot in the neck by a surviving sniper (Ghost was quick to shoot him down), body gone in a coud of ash and dusted feathers. He panicked, but he wasn’t the only one to rush towards what remained of you. Despite their panicked mumbles and frantic thoughts, Price had reassured them that it was normal, that you were still alive —all they had to do was wait a few seconds for you to reappear.

Appear you did, a small, ashen head, beak the length of a child’s thumb, small ad brittle, big, rounded eyes blinked at them, narrowed in confusion until you called, a tiny croon from a chick’s throat. You shuffled your way through the mess, featherless wings flapping as you hopped towards Price, who quickly met you half way, picking you up with one nimble swoop.

“Look at you,” Price cooed, pressing his thumb to your forehead, feeling the soft, newly grown feathers that glowed white, “About time you burned, yeah?”

“Fuckin’ hell,” it was the only thing he could answer with when his mind was building up these theories, every little thought in his head went to understand what and how you were made. It was as close as Soap’s Steamin’ bloody Jesus or König’s dumbfounded Was.

“Is that why you told us not to worry, Captain?” Gaz’s ability to think clearly in adrenaline-inducing moments was a blessing, able to restrain his unending thoughts to connect two together and conjure up a sentence - a few words, a mumble or a plea - to understand whatever happened to you. “What happened?”

Price let out a deep rumble, a laugh from his belly, deep and amused, a striking contrast to their worried frowns. He handled you softly, petting and pinching at the young feathers growing on you while he turned you around, showing them how Price held you with such careful ease and soothing smile. Ghost doubted that Price didn’t have any prior experience in caring for you, seeing how loving he was with you —like a lover caring for his sickened, or a dragon guarding his treasure, Ghost wasn’t sure which one was right.

“Hunter’s a phoenix, “ he smiled softly, eyes gleaming with too much glee, a silent laugh at their sudden bewilderment, approaching you slowly to admire you themselves. “They burst to flames every three years or so, the last one was around five years ago- long overdue for a reset.”

Soap and Horangi were the first to attempt to touch you, the excited dog and the curious feline, tentatively poking at you with a finger until you pecked it, annoyed by their incessant jabbing. You let out a shrill cry from your throat, small and hilariously fierce for something so small and fragile. You crawled to the ends of Price’s fingers, wings flapping to urge them to pick you up instead of pointing a finger and cooing at you as if you were an exotic animal. You somewhat were —exotic, that is.

“A wee thang, aye, Cap?” Soap awed, cradling you in his palms, you weighted so little, as light as a feather on Gaz’s wing.

“Ugly as a rat too,” Horangi snickered, making light of the situation that had made their hearts stop.

You screeched, shaking your head wildly at him, his shoulders bobbing while you showed how offended you felt by acting out, an angry, little chick putting on a show of aggression and courage. His dark thoughts receded, Ghost’s fears and demons falling back into the depths of his mind when his eyes met your beady ones, round and doe-eyed, your age shining through the innocence of a newly-hatched. It made him wonder how you’d look once your feathers grew out, would you be as majestic as the stories portrayed phoenix did, with your great wings and great strength, feathers bathed in the sun’s warm embrace and tipped with the power of undying flames of power. Phoenixes were seen as symbols of immortality, resurrection —of life and death. Untouchable by death and favoured by life, you would live in a cycle of ashes and flames, embers cracking until it softened to flickers, a soft, gentle flame ready to yield to nature.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143

[yzzart]

okay okay hear me out: an interview compilation made after y/n and tom are public about their relationship that consists of all the moments they nearly slipped up/did slip up BEFORE they were public that fans didn't pick up on until it was confirmed

almost caught.

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: after you and Tom assumed your relationship, your fans carefully observe every detail of all of your interviews.

word count: 576!

notes: this request got me so much, anon! you guys're so creative and keep requesting!

"Who would you…" — Taking one of the small cards, which contained some questions and questions, the interviewer read it carefully. — "…rather be struck in an elevator with?" — After reading, she moved her eyes to each of you, waiting for the answer.

In a pure coincidence, or irony of fate, you and Tom tilted your heads towards each other; meeting in a look of complicity, with arched eyebrows. — Blyth could see your lips trembling in an attempt to hold a cheeky smile and almost risking laughing along.

Oh, the answer was so obvious and risky but it had to be kept secret, even at a certain point.

"We're talking a trivia quiz today." — The producer, behind the cameras, explained, duly and carefully, to you; pointing to the cell phone that Tom was holding. — And you can play together or you can compete against each other." — She clapped her hands, ending the explanation and leaving the two choices to you.

"Oh, no." — You spoke slowly, resting your hand on your knee and leaning towards Rachel, who was laughing and thinking about what could happen.

"She'll want to compete." — Tom exclaimed, pointing, indiscreetly, the cell phone that was in his hand, towards you and looking at the producer. — "I know you, my darling." — Now, he started to direct his eyes at you accompanied by a confident smile.

"Oh, shut up." — Your hand rested on his arm, slightly pushing him. — "And of course I'm going to compete." — Blyth raised an eyebrow as Rachel and Josh laughed. — "Just to watch you lose."

“Oh my god, Y/N!” — The interviewer's lively and expressive voice caught her attention, shaking the microphone a little frantically. — "Come here!" — She asked and Tom turned towards you, expecting you presence next to him.

Holding onto a part of your long and majestic dress, you directed your steps towards the meeting point where they were. — It was a simple surface, like a small stage, with only two steps to climb; it wasn't risky or complicated. — Tom tilted his hand towards you, wanting to help, and you held it; feeling the coolness, not bothersome, of your rings.

"You look so beautiful." — Tom whispered, and the camera recorded the moment he leaned into your ear, distributing a quick kiss through your hair. — "You always are, actually."

"Look who's talking." — Your brief laughs came into sync. — "Thank you, my love."

"Hi, i'm Tom Blyth!" — The camera centered on your presentation, your hand waved briefly at your along with a soft smile, slightly showing your teeth.

And also, biting your tongue to stop yourself from laughing at the joke that you and Tom had joined in on. — He was the one who suggested it.

"And i'm Y/N." — Tom nodded, shaking it just once, and quickly raised his eyebrows.

"I was going to say the same thing." — The oldest rested his arm against the back of his chair, before looking at the floor at a fictitious point and, quickly, looking at your face. — "Really."

"We have a kind of connection." — You clicked your tongue, pursing your lips, and moving one of your hands pointing at you and Tom. — “A connection indeed.”

"Like, soulmates, right?" — He leaned down, raising his index finger and pointing to his head, then to your; signaling possible telepathy and joking about it.

"Yes!" — Your laughter extended with Tom's, and the interviewer's, and you started to make the same movements, at a certain second getting in sync with him.