#(if you want me to change anything or would prefer something else lmk!)

[softersinned]

@koschyei said: ❛ You know, this is an interesting and efficient method of murder. I need to write this down. ❜

The smile on her lips doesn't meet her eyes, and she tries to ignore the churning in her gut; she knows better by now than to trust anyone, let alone another politician, but she wants to, and badly. She can feel it in him, some sort of power that is at once old and incomprehensible to her, and there is a part of her that wants to sit at his feet and learn, and another part of her, a greater, a louder part of her, that wishes there were some way to sink her fingers into his chest and rip it out of him to keep for herself.

She has been powerless before and has learned to survive, even to thrive, in spite of it, but it did nothing to dull her hunger. She imagines power sometimes like an organ and she imagines what it would feel like to tear the power from another person and swallow it hole, blood staining her teeth, magic burning her tongue. She is a creature of want above all else. She always has been.

"I'm afraid I'm little help to you when it comes to the Anchor's power." Not technically a lie, but certainly not the truth. Astoria's left hand pulses a gentle, glowing green, and she thinks, not for the first time, that her blood sounds different now that it's been infected by the Fade.

But it was not the Anchor's power, this time; it was her own, and a power she understands plenty well. One need not tamper with the blood as a whole when one can tamper with the things that make it, and there is plenty of water in blood. To manipulate. To move. To boil. Not technically blood magic, but she knows enough by now of the chantry to trust that not technically blood magic is hardly a solid defense. She takes in a deep breath and immediately regrets it as the euphoria of battle fades and she feels the sudden and sharp pain in her chest that means her ribs have broken again.

The dead men at her feet steams like cooked meat, their skin reddened and bursting from the heat that had poured out of her and into them. Around them, the snow has melted enough to reveal the hard, barren ground beneath it. Had she known Koschei was near, she would have been more cautious, but the Venatori had caught her by surprise. Astoria tucks her hands into her sleeves and shrugs apologetically.

"If I knew better how it worked, I would use it better. Unfortunately, much of Solas' research into rifts is beyond me. I never received a formal training in magic and I'm afraid the theory seems rather muddy compared to what I learned at the augur's knee." She raises her eyebrows, retracts her left hand and holds it out to him, palm up, as if in invitation. (In challenge.) "Though if there's knowledge in Buyan that has yet to cross the Wilds, that could guide me, surely you would know it...?"

[planetpedri]

hey girly please can you do one with marc bernal where he’s super clingy after his injury and he just wants to be babied, tysm xxx

Generous heart — Marc bernal.

Pairing: Marc Bernal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend had never been a clingy person, but it seems this injury had changed him more than you thought.

Word count: 560+

Disclaimer/s: Acl injury, pain, light angst to comfort. mostly fluff though !

A/N: When do the injuries end UGHHH. Come back soon diva

Marc’s parents had been allowing you to stay over for the night more and more. Ever since his injury, they had claimed he’d been more down than usual, but whenever you came around, suddenly his spirits were lifted and he felt.. well, the closest thing to normal someone could with the injuries he’d sustained.

While sitting up in his bed, Marc uncomfortably moved around. At some points he’d wince in pain, trying to disguise his discomfort by looking to the side. Each time you’d remind him that he needed to verbally tell you if something was hurting, rather than pretending it wasn’t there.

So, you’d convinced him to just lay down, which he did, but not without pulling you down with him. A soft laugh escaped your lips as he tugged on your arm.

“Lay down with me.” He huffs, looking up at you with a forced scowl.

“Chillax, i’m going to!” You grin, slowly inching yourself from a sitting position down to a lying one. The second you were flat against his bed, he pulled you closer, using his right arm to slip under your head.

Once he was satisfied with the position, your head resting on his shoulder, he bent his head down to place a kiss to the top of your head.

You smile at the gesture before unlocking your phone and opening TikTok, scrolling mindlessly through the videos as Marc watched with you.

Thats how most of your days and nights spent together went. He would have you cuddle with him and watch whatever you had on your phone. In fact, he’d prefer you nearly laying on top of him on your phone, than you giving him space and sitting beside him.

Marc was never this.. cuddly before. You weren’t complaining, though. Just to make that clear. You loved it, in fact. But, it was new, and each time you couldn’t help but smile the whole time. You liked this part of him, the one you hadn’t seen much until recently.

“Wait!” He suddenly says, making your eyes widen and shoot up to him, “I wasn’t done with that video, scroll up.”

Letting out a long breath, you huff. “Holy shit, you scared me!”

A guilty look passes across his face, “sorry..” He says sheepishly, “just scroll up, please?”

Nodding, you scroll back to the last video. “Let me know when I can continue.” You chuckle.

“Will do.” He hums, “hey, wait.”

Groaning, you pause the video. “Yes?” You meet his gaze once again and you’re met with a smug smirk. Great.

“A kiss would do.”

Oh this little…

Rolling your eyes, you tilt your head back to grant him access to your lips. He takes the chance, using his free hand to place his thumb and index finger on your chin, tilting your head up a little further. You don’t think you’d ever get used to his kisses, they were always so gentle and meaningful and perfect…

Sighing into the kiss, your eyes flutter shut. “Anything else you need? You big baby.” You murmur against his lips, feeling the smile that forms on his.

“I am a little hungry..” He pulls away, cocking his head to the side. “Takeout?”

“Or we could get off our asses and go make some real food.” You suggest, but exit TikTok to open google. “What do you want?”

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any future marc related posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[megu-meow]

cinnamon girl - sukuna

sukuna x fem. reader (reader is Nanami's sister)

Part 3 of my Hockey Player Sukuna Series - Part 1 - Part 2

Lmk if you want to be added to the tag list! :D

This road trip is Sukuna's worst nightmare. Firstly, they're playing his old team in Kyoto, the one he left in the middle of the season in questionable circumstances. His last month with the team was in no way pleasant, he was benched and constantly frowned upon by his teammates. The moment he heard about his trade offer to the Wizards he jumped on it and left without saying goodbye to anyone. He knew he's gonna get roughed up during the two back-to-back games ahead of him and that the tension would be high while in Kyoto. Secondly, Nanami was breathing down his neck constantly, keeping an eye on him 24/7. Sukuna cursed himself for not being more subtle about the way he approached you, he loathed the attention he was getting from your brother. He still wanted his approval, now more than anything, but he was not sure about the price he had to pay to get it. Sukuna was a loner. Despite having good relationships with his teammates and brothers, he preferred being alone. He found most people bothersome and downright annoying. So having Nanami around him every second of the day was a nuisance and that's putting it lightly.

"Is it really necessary that you follow me around all day?" he asked, irritation clear in his tone.

"You want my approval or not?" the blonde questions. It is not like he was pleased with the situation either, but he needed to be thorough with his background checks. Your heart was fragile and he was determined to protect it with all his might.

"I do, but is it really necessary for you to follow me around all day? What's next? Are you going to hold my dick while I piss too?"

Nanami frowns. He might have gone a teensy bit overboard, considering how tame Sukuna's days have been so far. He has a very strict and particular routine that he follows without fail. He wakes up at 6 and hits the gym for exactly an hour and forty-three minutes. After that, he takes a shower and eats breakfast, the same thing every time. Four eggs, four slices of bacon, and an obnoxiously large serving of salad. Then he calls his brothers. Yuji always answers, because they have the same schedule and this is his downtime as well. Choso, however, sometimes has clients, in those instances, his call goes to voicemail. He usually listens to Yuji's rambling for about half an hour, afterward, he hangs up, sometimes in the middle of the sentence, and starts getting ready for team practice. The length of that varies based on the coach's plans for the day, but the routine after is all the same. He goes to physical therapy, showers, puts on a sweatsuit, and returns to the hotel. He has lunch, again, the same thing every day, in different variations. He then takes a nap and wakes up two hours before the game. He doesn't even try to memorize his pre-game routine at the arena, because it's insane. From taping his hockey sticks to putting on his gear in a peculiar way, Nanami has seen everything. One thing that stands out during his daily routine is texting you because he does that constantly. Nanami knows it's you because when it's anyone else he's frowning, his expression depicts nothing but disgust. But when it's you he's smiling, he scoffs sometimes, probably because you said something unhinged. Most of the time, he is grinning like a man in love. Nanami considers entertaining the thought that he actually is in fact in love with you, but that would be crazy. Nonetheless, it is clear as a day and without a doubt that he is infatuated by you.

Sukuna's demeanor changes on the last day of the road trip, on the day of their last game in Kyoto. He is agitated, downright distressed. Nanami doesn't understand this sudden change, sure, these last couple of games have been rough on him, the unhinged comments thrown his way by his ex-teammates might have gotten to him, but they didn't seem to bother him up to this point. Something must have happened.

"Dude, stop bouncing your leg, the whole room is quaking!" Satoru whines during team dinner, imploring Sukuna.

"Shut your mouth, Gojo, unless you want to go home to your girlfriend without your dick attached." he bites back with a frightening aura.

"That's enough!" Nanami explodes, grabbing Sukuna by the collar of his dress shirt, and dragging him out. The pink-haired centerman does not fight back, despite the sheer size difference between the two of them. He could easily dominate Kento in this situation, but he refuses to.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" the blonde questions "No bullshit, Sukuna, I can tell that you're on the edge."

His tatted face contorts - the last person he wants to mutter the following words to is standing in front of him. He never talks about his problems anyway, but this is utterly uncomfortable.

"She's ghosting me," he whispers, unable to hold eye contact with Nanami.

"What?"

"You heard me, Captain! Don't fucking try to convince me to repeat myself." he explodes, shaking the blonde's hands off his shoulders, trying to leave the room.

"Why? Did you do something?" Nanami's voice is nothing but emphatic. It makes Sukuna's shoulders deflate as he takes a deep breath.

"No." he says "I don't think so."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

"No! It's her decision, if she doesn't want to talk to me, I'm alright with that. It's just frustrating. I've been trying to act my best around you to get your blessing, but apparently, it was for nothing. What a pain."

Nanami sees right through his unbothered facade. He smiles, knowing that this idiot in front of him is down bad for his sister. That's why he calls you, to find out why you've been avoiding him.

"Why aren't you talking to Sukuna?" he asks after listening to your rambling about how fun of a day you had with Sophia and how Senna had chocolate milk coming out of her nose from one of Akane's jokes.

"Ugh, he told you about that too?" you sigh in frustration "You know, I really thought he was different, that he didn't talk shit about girls. He despises talking to the team about his conquests and relationships. I thought he would keep this on the down low, at least until our first date. And what does he do? He tells everyone in the locker room the first chance he gets."

"I was the one to question him about it," Nanami explains and your eyes widen "He doesn't talk shit. He only told me, so that I would give him my approval. He didn't want to go behind my back, he basically told me his intentions."

The way Sophia phrased it to you it sounded like Sukuna disgustingly blabbed to the entire team. The information your brother presented to you changes everything, your irritation with Sukuna disappears in an instant, but it's quickly replaced with guilt.

"Is he mad?" you ask timidly.

"Totally livid, downright lunatic." he says, his tone light, which makes you giggle. "Do you like him, Bambi?"

You think about it for a second. For the last couple of days, Sukuna has been nothing but a gentleman. He still annoyed you to no end, but he also sent you good morning and good night text every day. He texted you at every chance he got, telling you about his day, making you laugh at his stories about Satoru and how he loathes him. He listened to you complain about your unfair boss and your new annoying co-worker, about the shenanigans of your cat. He also sent a bouquet of sunflowers to your office, claiming that he finds any other type of flower stupid. "They're useless. At least with these ones, you can pull out the seeds, roast them, and use them for salads." he explains. Even thinking about him makes you smile.

"Yeah, I do like him." you say confidently and Nanami sighs. He cannot argue with that.

"Just text him back, Bambi."

"I will. Is that you giving your blessing, big bro?" you tease, making Nanami hang up the phone without saying goodbye. You laugh and you switch to the Messages app on your phone straight away.

However, Sukuna never takes his phone to the arena, because it's a distraction from his routine. So he doesn't see your message, making him go on a full rampage during the game. He's thrown to the sin bin at least six times for checking his opponents too hard, and he's constantly spewing insults at his ex-teammates, some of them personal, some of them just usual guy stuff.

"Hey Nanami-san! How is that sexy little fox of a sister of yours? I would really like to take her on a ride on my Zamboni if you know what I'm getting at." Mahito, the other team's first-line defenceman chirps the captain, and before Kento can react, he sees Sukuna fly by, with his gloves off, landing a powerful punch to the guy's face. Geto swears that the punch flashes black, which is not surprising, considering he and Gojo have a flair for the dramatic. The pink-haired lunatic lands punch after punch with a ruthless expression. This goes on until Mahito falls to the ice and the referees separate the two. As he is escorted towards the penalty box, Sukuna turns back to the defenceman and deliriously spits at him:

"Know your place, fool!"

Sukuna is thrown out of the game after that. You watch him on television, as he leaves the ice with a smile on his face, seemingly proud of himself for beating a living shit out of someone. But the fight gets the boys going, closing this road trip with a 7-1 win against the Kyoto team.

"Oh, Bambi..." you hear Senna's voice from beside you, a cheeky grin on her face. Sometimes you wonder how Satoru found a girl so similar to him. They are basically the same person, just different gender.

"What?"

"You sooooooo have the hots for Sukuna!" Akane teases.

"I do not!"

"Yeah, you do! But no worries, girl, we've been there. Guys are so hot when they fight." Senna explains.

"Sophia! Please tell these two that they are delusional." you look at your sister-in-law, imploring her to get you out of the uncomfortable situation.

"You are soooooo delusional, Bambi!" you hear her say and Senna starts laughing like a hyena. You huff out in frustration as you grab your phone to check if Sukuna texted you back. As soon as you see the message notification on the screen, a deep blush forms on your face and you cannot help, but smile.

"I will be expecting a warm welcome after getting home, sweet girl. It's utterly disrespectful to ignore someone who's trying so hard to win you over, my fragile little heart needs pampering." his text says.

And warm welcome he gets. On Sunday, at brunch. As soon as you see him step into the cafe, you stand up from your seat, going up to him, embracing his giant figure in a tight hug, whispering how sorry you are for ignoring him. At first, he is stiff, but after a couple of seconds, he relaxes, putting his bulky arms around your shoulders, inhaling your scent.

Nanami watches the whole scenario from his seat, content with the picture in front of him. The two of you arrived earlier, Sukuna insisted that the two of you have the time to catch up as siblings, another reason why Kento is pleased momentarily with his decision. He thinks back to the conversation he had with Sukuna after the game the night before.

"Thank you, for standing up for my sister, but you shouldn't have fought. That was stupid, we need you on the ice, Sukuna!" he scolds the pink-haired centerman.

"That bastard deserved what he got. And you guys did well without me anyway."

"I don't care, don't fight, you moron."

"I cannot make such promises." he grins.

"Can you promise not to hurt my sister?"

Sukuna's jaw drops at the blunt question, but he smiles nonetheless.

"Yeah, I can promise that, Captain!"

"Alright. One bad word from her, one teardrop, one disrespectful comment from you and you're done for, you understand?"

"Yes." Sukuna nods "Thank you, Kento."

However, Nanami regrets his decision during brunch. Because neither you nor Sukuna can keep your eyes off each other, the two of you share the stories of what you've been up to while you were apart, despite talking about them through messages. Nanami never felt so useless as he felt in that moment - third wheeling is truly a chore. But now he understands why you banned Sophia from Sibling Brunch because you felt the same way every time she joined. He feels terrible for only realizing this now, but the damage has been done, and he swears he's not going to push her presence at these events anymore. Nonetheless, Kento is glad to observe the dynamic between the two of you, the banter, the laughs, and the scoffs. It seems so fluid and easygoing as if the two of you knew each other through your whole lives. Sukuna seems so much softer, his rough and downright mean aura is replaced by a smile that reaches his ears, so genuine it's nearly frightening.

"Hey, Ken?" you ask, looking at him with sparkly eyes. "Sukuna and I are going on a walk, is that alright?"

"Sure. Take care!" he says and he embraces you, then shakes hands with his teammate. They have one of those silent conversations that boys have, but Kento leaves without saying anything else, but he makes sure to smile at you, as a sign that he is okay with this.

As you and Sukuna walk down the street to the park, you cannot help but ask him:

"Soooo... Is this our first date?" He looks at you in disbelief, he seems offended even.

"Do you really think that I am sloppy enough to take you here for our first date? I am a gentleman, y/n, this is what 15-year-old boys would consider a date, not me."

"Is that so? Then, when are you gonna take me on a real date?" you tease, but you're nervous that he might have changed his mind since he asked you out. You try not to show that, but Sukuna is perceptive. He knows, but he chooses not to comment on it.

"Really soon, sweetheart. Really soon."

🩵 Tag list: @ichorstainedskin @ureuphoriasworld @new-weather47 @deepchromatose @cvr2mya 🩵

[zeppeli-reelstallbun]

The Exception

<- previous - Chapter 1

[PAIRING] Bucciarati x Reader (afab-she/her) (multiple pov)

[SUMMARY] Your date was a disaster, and your expectations had already been low to begin with- but a good friend does what she must. Read the prologue first!!

[WC] 2.5k APOLOGIES they will not be this short in the future. These first two parts are plot important for setup reasons, unfortunately. Just didn’t want to put more than one pov in a single post yall

[!!!] language, concept is inspired by goodfellas, so a lot of dialogue and narration has been picked straight from that. not cannon accurate, google translated Italian, pulling things out of my ass in terms of locations and such, lmk if I missed anything,

[A/N] Woof, here’s chapter one as promised. They will be longer moving forward, I swear. Eh I don’t feel that bad, these were posted on the same day. Uhhhh yeah don’t know what else to say except that I got my nails done and now they’re a bitch to type with so that’s pretty cool. Also, merry early Christmas for those who celebrate :)

Also also, as someone who hates reading oc names in fics 99% of the time, the made up friend character means nothing to me and will be gone so soon. Toodles.

I can’t stand him. In fact, I’d call him obnoxious. He’s just sitting there, fiddling with his watch like this isn’t worth his time.

It had been like this the entire night, and you were beginning to wonder why you even agreed to join Lucia in the first place. It seemed like Guido was a decent guy, at least if you ignored his questionable taste in friends. Thankfully she was having a good time, sitting and laughing and leaning into his chest like she wasn’t hesitant to go out in the first place. Yes, your expectations had been low to begin with, but the behavior you witnessed at dinner was nothing but insulting. And then, before it was time to go, your date was rushing you out of the restaurant! It was ridiculous how he paraded you to the vehicle as if this were a successful night out, hand hovering over the small of your back until needed to open your door.

You didn’t feel like it was overdramatic to call this evening a failure. In fact, that word seemed a gross understatement even now.

If it weren’t for one exchange he initiated on the trip home, you might have believed the entire thing had been orchestrated to get you away from Lucia. At first, you were confused when he pulled up the driver's privacy screen; was he about to give you a reason to be concerned?

”I realize tonight wasn’t…” he paused, picking his next word carefully, “optimal.”

You didn’t give him a response, keeping your knees shifted away from him and your posture neutral.

He continued, “Mista didn’t invite me until yesterday. I already made a commitment to meet with my supervisor tonight, something I couldn’t change even if I wanted to. But he couldn’t really ask anyone else.”

“Lucia practically begged us to meet them again Friday-“ you began, getting ready to give him a way out.

“Guido wasn’t much better,” your date interjected. “I think he would have dropped to his knees if we told him it would secure a yes.”

In spite of yourself, a laugh escaped from the bottom of your stomach. He was witty, you realized. And worse, he delivered it in the same, dry tone he used in regular conversation. The combination left you speechless, if only temporarily.

“I won’t be able to pick you up,” he continued before you could object, “but I can take you home again, if you’d prefer. Can we meet at the restaurant?”

Fine. You thought as you nodded your head. One more chance. All things considered, I can give him the benefit of the doubt.

You didn’t think of anything else for the remainder of the drive. Not the fact that your date seemed to have a personal driver, nor the suspicion in meeting an employer so late in the evening. You were only focused on getting home and trying to put aside your personal frustrations for the next time you dined with Bruno Bucciarati. After all, he still took the time to walk you to your door. Did he factor this into his schedule? Did he plan to leave with time to escort me home instead of letting me third wheel?

But, you weren’t willing to think about that right now.

He hadn’t proven that he deserved it, at least not yet.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Guido was more than happy to drive you to dinner alongside Lucia, though you knew this was an attempt to gain your friend's favor more than anything else. Regardless, you appreciated the gesture. It beat walking halfway across the globe to reach the restaurant, which seemed to have been picked for its inconvenient location over anything else. Still, you wouldn’t complain. You didn’t need to worry about the transportation, and you likely wouldn’t have to pay for your meal again. He might have been closed off during conversation, but Bucciarati didn't even let you touch the check. Besides, it would be a challenge for the second dinner to go worse than the first one…

Perhaps that thought was responsible for your hesitance to admit he stood you up.

First it was five minutes. Then ten. Then fifteen, and you were escorted to your seats. Twenty, and the waiter checked in on the table. Twenty-five, and his friend explained that one more might be coming. Thirty, and you felt your hopes drop completely. Oh well, guess I dodged a bullet.

“I feel terrible. I don’t know where he is.” Mista finally said, confronting the elephant in the room. The waiter had taken their orders, it felt awkward pushing him back any longer. You had insisted the couple have some sort of date, you really didn’t care that things didn’t work out… It wasn't your fault Mista had unreliable friends.

“You know, he really liked you too,” he continued, turning to Lucia, “all he did was talk about her. He liked you.”

Sure. Maybe last night I could have believed that.

You were a trio instead of a double date that night. But you didn’t really care. Did you? Even second guessing that feeling of apathy made your stomach churn, why should it matter that one guy didn’t work out. Worse than that, however, Guido thought he was making things better by bringing it up every time he saw fit. What you thought would be simple enough to ignore instead continued to grow with each minute that passed. By the time dinner wrapped up, you considered yourself angry with the man.

With the same grating voice you had become accustomed to, Mista began to ramble again, “He should have called, I hope it’s nothing serious. He really isn’t like this, ever.”

“Then why don’t we do something instead of just talking about it.” You finally snapped back, dropping the fork from your hand. You’d had enough of the idle chatter, enough of the unimportant setup. It was time for Mista to put his money where his mouth was.

“What?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“Let’s go find him.” You were being dead serious, the extravagant wine in your system encouraging you to rip him a new one. “You know where he spends time, I assume.”

Pleadingly, you locked eyes with your friend, praying she would understand what you were telling her. He’ll do anything you say right now, he’s wrapped around your finger.

You don’t know why you even doubted her, she read your mind with ease. “Pleaaaase Guido-“ she whined, wrapping her arms around him while tossing her head back. “We could stay at mine if we’re out too late looking for him.”

Frankly, the tone of her voice left you impressed. I owe you big time, you said with your gaze. She rolled her eyes at you, unknown to the boy escorting them out. ‘Lord, you have no idea,’ you guessed she replied.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

While you assumed Guido would be a careful driver at first, all notions of the concept had fleeted by the time you reached Napoli Centrale.

You had nearly been ready to give up. In reality, you had only been driving for upwards of an hour, but it felt like you were trapped in the car with the couple for days. The sun had long begun its descent, street lights now illuminating the water lined streets. There wasn’t a man on earth worth all this trouble, regardless of how pissed you were at him. You were about to voice your defeat, when your friend's date caught a glimpse of the less than subtle blue hair. You didn’t even have the time to voice an objection before the car drifted to an enthusiastic halt.

Guido had given you an entrance, his brakes squeaking enough to burn rubber and announce your presence to the entire block. Whatever you decided to say, it needed to match that urgency. There was nothing left to do but open the door and step out of the car, fists clenched so as not to show their trembling.

Unaware of the storm approaching, Bucciarai recognized the vehicle, if nothing else. “Mista, I don’t have time-”

“You have some nerve standing me up.” You cut him off, slamming the door behind you as you made your way to the paved entryway he was occupying. “Nobody does that to me.”

He wasn’t alone, you noticed. Fuck. “Who do you think you are, some big shot? Think you’re pretty enough to be a casanova?” The group of men around him loosened up, muttering a bit at the show starting in front of them. One even let out a laugh at his expense.

You savored the look on his face, the perfect mix of shock and awe. His mouth fell agape, but he quickly pulled himself together.

Turning to take one more look at his friends, Bruno stood to greet you. His legs closed the distance with ease, and he brought his hands as he spoke. “Take it easy. Slow down, all right?” He smiled convincingly, eying you up and down to gauge how pissed you might have been. “I forgot. I thought it was next week.”

You threw your head back, unimpressed as you spat, “It was Friday. It was this Friday. And you agreed.” What did it even matter? “Fuck off-”

He took a step forward as you began to turn away, reaching out to grab your wrist. Gentle, you noticed, despite the stern command in its nature. “Hey, we can talk about this,” he nearly asked, “take it easy.”

The group of boys laughed at him. Any variation of ‘calm down’ is universally frowned upon when confronting an upset woman, how Bruno managed to forget this was unfathomable. For his group of boys, this was the luckiest day of their life. Finally, something to hold over the perfect mafiosos head. For you, however, this was the final straw.

“Talk about it?” You asked slowly, furrowing your brows and tilting your head as if saying ‘that’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.’

“Talk to you after what you just did to me?” You were smiling, shaking your head as one of the onlookers let out an ‘oooooooh.’

“Forget it. I’m not talking to you about anything.” You finished, pulling your hand back. That’s when you noticed it -- the look in Bucciaratis eyes that left you second guessing your anger. According to his dark gaze, you were something between predator and prey. A challenge to be untangled. A delicious meal laced with deadly poison. You wanted to gag for even thinking something so cliche.

Unknown to you, it’s not often someone speaks to Bruno this way. Unknown to you, this sparked his interest more than anything else. Aside from his superiors, this behavior wouldn’t have been tolerated… In all honesty, he would have put a stop to it immediately if you were one of his boys. If you were anyone else, he wouldn't have dealt with you at all.

But, here you were. Some civilian girl somewhere in between the two, allowed to make a public mockery of his shortcomings. The boys sitting behind him did not take this lightly, this you recognized if nothing else.

“I thought you would stand me up. You looked bored. You didn’t say anything. What do you expect? Hmm?” You turned, rolling your eyes while shifting your weight. His grip on your wrist gave him one final point of leverage over you. Pulling you back towards him once more, the two of you locked eyes.

“Well-” he began, eyeing you up and down again, “let me make it up to you.”

It must have been the way his gaze lingered. Despite your anger, a part of you never wanted anyone to look at you with that same hunger ever again. Only him. You wanted to capture Bucciaratis' look of yearning, it had felt like you deserved to. You had gone through this much trouble to obtain it, after all.

But still, he didn’t deserve a solid answer from you. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Next Friday,” he patted his jacket, taking a moment of composure to look for something, “I’ll pick you up at 8.”

Bold. Straightforward. It was a start.

“You’ll show up to my house at 8,” you corrected, beginning to walk back to Mistas car, “I’ll decide if you’re picking me up or begging.”

A chorus of laughter and mockery rang in your ears as you turned back to the car. If nothing else, that group of boys wasn’t going to let their friend hear the end of it.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

This is purely self indulgent slop, also, im about to go get so baked in my childhood bedroom - wish me luck

[ruershrimo]

HEEEYYYAAA SWEETHEART

so I saw your Christmas event thingy and wanted to request a #13 with lyney x reader, preferably fluff but not like overly fluff so it becomes cringe (I sound bitchy I'm sorry😭)

Anyways congrats on 2 years on the blog,don't forget to eat and drink, mwah mwah(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

the christmas mix | #13- baby it’s cold outside | lyney x reader

event masterlist

features lyney

notes: hiii<33!! thank you so much for requesting (and for being the first one too!!) aaaa!! anw I’m so sorry this came so late but I wanted to write something a bit longer (to be honest, I still feel like this one’s pretty incomplete, so I may write a part 2 for it!! I just didn’t want to take too much time so I just want to give this to you first.) and I really wanted it to be good because you seem so sweet aaaa <333. but ANYWAY thank you so much and have a merry christmas, mwah!! lmk if you need a rewrite of this and my apologies if there’s not enough (?) fluff (??) or if it's too short!!

warnings: none, except for the fact that it's fem reader, really (I hope that's okay!!)

summary: (set before the current events of the game) it's in the winter of his first show at the opera epiclese that he meets you. you think you may be falling for this stranger, this all-too-busy magician. it's alright if either of you have to go, though, the two of you can stay together-- it's too cold outside, after all.

The first time you meet him, the both of you are young and he’s a nameless stranger you meet at a friend’s party. You hit it off with him and glass bottles clink against each other before you bring the rim of yours to your lips and sip your fonta. 

“So, what brings you here?” you ask the stranger before you. He’s a new, unheard-of magician, you’ve been told. You think he’s the epitome of what magic should be in a world of surging elemental powers and mythical beings— a perfect mix of misdirection and secrets— with all his charm and mystery, and that little bit of dramatic flair he uses to present himself. 

“My sister and I were invited to perform, it seems,” he explains, taking his own sips in, “And you?” 

“Invited? Why, I just waltzed my way in like most of the others. Do you think I’ll be seeing you up there later, then, Mister…” 

“Lyney. Mister Lyney.” 

“…Mister Lyney.” 

“And you won’t be seeing me, anyway. I’ve told the host that my sister and I must attend to some urgent business concerning our first show at the Opera Epiclese tomorrow.” 

“Hm,” you hum, “The Opera Epiclese, huh? Glad to know I’m speaking to a future big shot. Remember me when your tickets are worth every gem and mora in Fontaine, won’t you? I don’t think I’ll be able to steal each and every one to see you again.” 

“Of course,” he grins, “And you won’t have to steal anything, I promise. Nothing would be worth as much as you.” 

“You’ve a penchant for words, I see. And here I thought budding magicians were often shyer than this…” 

“Our introduction to being in the limelight would not change my occasional sharing of the truth. Then he lays his bottle down on the table, and it’s silent and so very unlike how you thought he would based off your initial impressions of him, and so very different from how anyone else would after drinking fonta. He sets it down quietly, stealthily, as if if he were to clash any louder against the wooden table’s surface he would dart out of the host’s house while the liquid in the bottle barely moves, appearing like creases on a red velvety tablecloth. “But!” he exclaims, “Now I really must get going—” 

His voice is like a twinkle out of a music box, its melody even better than the one bursting out of your friend’s gramophone; his eyes are like a velvet coat that pair well with his cheshire cat-like smile; his hair is silky as it is silvery and you want to run your fingers through it. 

So you don’t want him to go. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

“Well, the magician’s life just so happens to be a busy one, dear [name]—“

“Oh? Mr Lyney, I don’t recall having ever told you my name,” you remark, quirking up a brow and holding him by the wrist as he begins to get up. 

The mister giggles, “I’ve heard of you before, of course. Our host informed me of who you were— and so did everybody else at this lovely soirée. Why, who hasn’t heard of the eccentric, renowned [name]? But I really should get going.” 

“Oh, but won’t you stay? It’s just so dreadfully cold out and it would be a shame if you and your sister were to get sick from the winter winds right before your grand show. Goodness, I’ve heard of the severity of all the snow and hail these days, and even some of my acquaintances have nearly succumbed to hypothermia due to it all!” 

He feigns a sigh, his voice like velvet wrapping around your eyes and ears and engulfing your senses, as he sits down again as you keep a firm grip on his wrist, “Well I hope they’re well into a good recovery, [name], but Lynette and I have the thickest coats and a great tolerance for the cold due to our brief time in Snezhnaya a few years ago—”

You pry a little further. “What got you into Snezhnaya, Mister?” 

“Oh, please, that’s certainly a story for another day—” he starts again, taking hold of his hat. 

“Well even if you wouldn’t like to tell me, Mr Lyney, I must know everything I can about you— everything you’d like me to know— in these few minutes you still have. So, please stay?” 

He sighs again, freeing his hat and his coat. “Alright, since you’ve been such lovely company, perhaps I’ll just stay for one more sip.” 

“Perhaps you could stay for one more bottle?” you cheekily suggest. 

“Five more sips.” 

“Please, just one more bottle…” you suggest again, “And come rain or shine I’ll be sure to come for all your future shows, whether they be in the Epiclese or not. Your first one’s tomorrow, right?” 

“…you, my dear friend, have a deal.” 

You laugh, “That took more convincing than I thought it would.” 

“Well you’re definitely persistent as you are eccentric,” he comments, digging into his pocket to reveal a deck of cards, “Now, allow me to show you a magic trick as we chat through our next bottle…” 

—

“Didn’t think you’d be the Casanova type,” Lynette jabs as he finally exits the building, “So you just left [name] there as she kept talking to you?” 

“Well, you know how things are,” he says. 

He already knows he can’t afford this. He’d been honing his magic for years from the streets to the halls of nobles’ houses to their rooms in the House of the Hearth for the sake of Father’s cause. If he were to let just anyone in, if he were to fall back from that tower of deception and secrecy and let it topple, then— 

“I’m sure that Father would be alright,” she states, a knowing, teasing lilt in her voice, “We won’t even be that late.” 

—

There are a handful of things you know about him by the second time you meet. That he used to perform solely on the streets and was then offered the chance to have a show at the Opera Epiclese after gradually gaining renown over the years; that like the cats he adores, he likes fish dishes; that he and his sister have a younger brother. 

The hall itself seems empty, the hues of each chair blurring together to form a sea of gold and red. 

“Why, it seems we meet again!” a voice echoes from behind you, then softer, it goes, “You’re earlier than I thought you’d be, though. And in the front seat.” 

“I know,” you smile, torso twisted, “I wanted to be extra early. And don’t ask how I got to the front seat, would you?” 

(In truth, you’d purchased it from someone who wouldn’t be available and was selling their front seat ticket at a much lower price than it should have been. No theft had occurred.) 

He moves in front of you. “To talk to me once more, I assume?” 

You pause and hum, tilting your head in an acted-out thought process. “Of course.” 

“Well,” he starts, “I still have more things to get ready backstage, and more props and tricks to prepare, so I don’t think I’ll be able to.” 

“Oh, I don’t mind, go ahead—”

He panics. “—But it’s you, so I’ll make some time. About five minutes, possibly— in truth, I do have a trick for you, dear [name],” he says, the words pouring out of him like a magician’s trick of pulling out an infinite number of differently coloured silks sewn together from his pocket. 

You lean forward in interest, and you try not to notice the barely audible gasp threat’s pulled from his lungs as he almost unwillingly backs away, then schools himself again. Maybe you were leaning in too much? “Show me, then,” you say. 

“Alright, then,” he begins, “I have a flower in my hands, and—oh? It’s disappeared!” he narrates, the sun-coloured flower vanishing with a flick of his hand. 

You raise a brow. 

“Now, have you noticed anything near your ear?” 

“My ear—?” Then to your surprise, you feel something tickling at the skin between your scalp and your ear, finding a whole stem tucked behind it. You pluck the flower away, bringing it to your nose and inhaling its scent. “Well, wouldn’t you know.” 

He giggles, “Do you like it?” 

“I do,” you reply, “I just thought you would’ve used a rainbow rose instead. But I love marcottes, too— they have such a sweet, light scent. Marcottes symbolise purity and sincere care,” you recite from a book you’d read, “And rainbow roses… well.” 

“Why, I’ve never learned of the language of flowers before,” he remarks, “…but I can start.” 

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t want you to take up too much of your time— a magician’s life is a busy one, no?”

“I suppose we all have to trade the time we have for something we care about no matter how little of it we have.” 

“Hm, I suppose so. Now, go—! Ten minutes have passed, mister!” 

“Oh—? But I’ve one more thing I need to say, dear [name],” he hurries, taking your hand and lightly pecking it, then letting his lips go and keeping your hands together, “You should stay later. It’s too cold outside for anyone to leave, but… if you need it, once everyone has left, you’re always welcome to stay and bask in the heating the Epiclese provides. Lynette and I will have to stay here for a while after, anyway.” 

You grin at his invitation— or his request, maybe. “I will.” 

“And, Lyney?” you call right as he turns back to face you again. “You’re always welcome to visit me in my own home.” 

You scribble your address on a piece of paper as people start to trickle in. It’s as if there are half as many people as there should be. It’s a sour thought, and, hopefully, in his next show, there’ll be more people.

The marcotte is tucked tightly between your index finger and thumb for the whole show. You bring its petals to your lips when the show is over. 

You hand the paper to Lyney after and you praise his show as you bid him farewell. You leave only a second earlier than he does with Lynette in tow. 

—

In the frigid winter weather, Lyney heads out, shivering, and buys a bouquet of rainbow roses as well as a book on the floral language of Fontaine. 

—

The show actually turns out to be a smashing success among the people who had watched it. The names Lyney and Lynette appear on the Steambird three days after the show, and you have the pleasure of reading an article about it, with details on a trick involving water and fireworks, written by one journalist Charlotte. 

The same day you read it, you open your door to see a bouquet of rainbow roses near your doorstep, hoisted and kept upright by the edge of the door and the wall. 

You wonder how they could have stayed alive without freezing, but you take it in. You already know who it’s from, even though there’s no name, no address— nothing. Nothing besides a note in elegant, cursive handwriting, saying “Thank you for coming.”

A dig through your house finally reveals an old vase of your parents’, a gorgeous, transparent vase of glass with patterns of roses embellishing it near the bottom that you trace with your fingers. You fill it with some tap water, remove the wrapping around the flowers, and place them in the vase. 

They rest near your bed and though the days are getting colder your heart warms at the sight of them every morning. 

So as it gets cold outside you think you’re falling for the all-too-busy magician, with his mystery and his tricks and his beautiful silver hair and violet eyes. 

You ought to invite him sometime during Christmas. And hopefully you can keep him for a while, too, as the fireplace crackles. It’ll be too cold outside, anyway. 

event taglist (please send an ask if you'd like to be added!):

wishing everyone a merry christmas ♡!

[lilolilyr]

I have an idea for an Andromaquynh modern AU fanfic

In it, Quynh moves back home to her parents after getting a degree at university she isn't really sure she can or wants to use. She used to think that she's a city girl despising the suburbs she grew up in, but now she thinks she was wrong about that or maybe her preferences changed, she doesn't much like the cities she studied in anymore, first she thinks it's because she studied abroad (in the countries of her ancestors) and could never quite connect to the culture there, but visiting a friend in a city in her home country shows her it isn't just that, she just prefers a quieter environment

In the meantime, her parents have moved to a different part of town and it doesn't really feel like coming home at all. Quynh still struggles with her place in life, she doesn't want to hang around on her parents' couch doing nothing forever but she doesn't know what else to do either and the thought of a regular 9-5 job in an office terrifies her, she has done enough internships in that kind of environment to know she can't stand it for long

Quynh starts taking long walks through the countryside, for her health because she hasn't really found any sports/active hobbies in the area yet (that's an aspect she really liked about the cities, there's always something interesting going on, she used to dance and try out things like shooting with bow&arrow and axe throwing), and to have quiet time to think away from her family. That way she gets to know the area quite well - she actually already knows it a bit because she really didn't live far away as a kid, but she never really walked through the fields on this side of the suburbs before

On her walks she sometimes comes across equestrians, and one time a horse throws off its rider and she ends up catching the animal, which doesn't seem to mind people in general just people trying to climb and sit on it - it won't stay the last time she comes across that particular animal, and she thinks she understands the horse quite well what with not wanting to do jobs they don't like just to be allowed to live comfortably.

Andy's the owner of the horse riding school, and when a girl falls off her horse (probably the one that doesn't much like its riders, Quynh calls it Big Guy lovingly not knowing what it's actually called) and needs medical attention, Quynh ends up taking the horse back to the stables and meets Andy there.

There's a bit of an age-gap between them and even once they meet and fall in love Andy is reluctant to commit to Quynh out of fear of tying Quynh to a life she might not really want, meanwhile Quynh is finally figuring out her place in life and she wants to stay with Andy.

I'll probably never write the full fanfic, I just don't have the time and motivation for it. If anyone's interested in getting the draft and adopting it, I'd love to hand it over for you to write it!

Post is okay to reblog :)

The draft I have is pretty much in bullet points atm, but I'd even go over it and clean it up a bit if someone's really interested in adopting the fic, and I'd be open to either chatting about it and giving more input, or you taking it and doing your own thing with it!

I don't have the time to write a longfic atm and I feel like what with the plot I'm thinking of, it really needs to be 10 or even 20k minimum to start doing it justice... That being said if sb wants to try writing a shorter version or is inspired by it to write anything similar, absolutely feel free! Just pls lmk once it's done so I can read it :D

I also already wrote a college AU horse girl!Andy longfic before, and while that one was happier and this one would probably have quite some angsty vibes before reaching its happy ending, it still kind of feels like I've done this before, also reducing my motivation for it even more :( which is a pity really because I do really like the idea.

If you want to take on the story reply to this or send me an ask/dm and we can figure out how to do this, discord/email/docs or whatever :)

My tog tag list - I know it's been ages, if anyone wants off this list or if someone new wants on it, please let me know! -: @bobeau-beaubo @lesbianlotties (daniwouldnever) @ongreenergrasses @eyeh0rr0r @cantteachanoldguardnewquotes @badwolfkaily @andramaquynhs @depresbianintheclassicalsense @andy-the-scythian @cryhardanddanceharder @my-gaydar-is-on-point @spookyvoidangelskeleton @bookerandy @jackwolfskid @cinnamonplums @cruzwalters @kayivy @blacks-phoenix @binariesarebullshit @tea-lizzard @prevalent-masters @aftermillennia @youssefguedira (pierremichelofavignon) @salzundhonig @moonlightbuckley @genyathefirebird (rupzydaisy) @nickydestati @after-a-millennium @spacewitchqueen @damnbert @not-so-good-omen (innocent-gayngel) @rhubarbdreams-blog @bedalk

[pawrty-time]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The Creature in Question

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

{Info/intro under cut}

⊰Pawrty⊱

💜Me💜

19

She/Her

New to Tumblr!

💙Pawrty-Time💙

Mood boards

Ideas/scenarios/random

Requests (Open! Read below!)

Maybe art! Who knows?

🤍Questions🤍

Q: What's this about...?

A: This account is to explore my Alterhuman identity! From what I've gathered so far, I am something that's a little bit of everything! Animalurge!

Q: What are your lurge types?

A: They are black northwestern wolf, arctic fox, a few different dog breeds, and cats!

Q: Will your content be centered around "pets" or "wild" animals?

A: I would like to have a balance! The beauty of domestication and being free both speak to me and I want to capture the essence of both!

Q: Will you post often?

A: Most likely not! My interests and what captures my attention fluctuate frequently! I will not make any promises!

Q: Where do you get your photos/videos/gifs?

A: Tumblr, Google, Pinterest, maybe elsewhere???

Q: Is your content SFW?

A: Tricky question! My only fear about saying I'm SFW is mentioning a game or other content that is "NSFW" or geared towards an 18+ crowd that I've molded into a particular context (i.e Ren Hana!). Maybe not safe for regressors??? I'm not sure! I'll make sure to tag the posts as such tho! Blocking me may work best for you! I understand ^^

Q: Requests?

A: Requests are never guaranteed! I do things at my own pace and can be overwhelmed easily! Think of it like a suggestion rather than a request, if I have the energy for it, I'll do my best! However, feel free to be as detailed as possible. It helps me out!

I'm open to various fandoms and darker themes but I have my limits! Don't hesitate to ask though! ^^

❤D.N.I❤

General dni stuff!

I'd prefer no Agereg! /nm

I block if necessary!

💚Tags💚

#Wild Pawrty - Animals that are not in a domesticated setting

#Pet Pawrty - Animals in a domesticated setting

#Pawrty Problems - My woes and complaints about misc things

#Pawrty Pics - Mood/stim boards!

#Pawrty Prints - Art/doodles

#Pawrty Noise - Asks/questions and suggestions!

#Animalurge - A coined term for my experiences

🖤Etc...🖤

This account is me expressing myself, figuring out this "part" of me, having some fun, and whatever else my silly little self thinks is cool atm. I am experimenting and ever changing, so mistakes are bound to happen! Lmk if anything is out of order, I'll do my best to figure it out 👍

Thanks for reading! <3

[yongislong]

ideal types + dreamies.

genre: fluff? haha

note: ty anon! i hope this is what you meant! this is just my opinion btw i don't know what these mfs like, i tried not to do body types or anything like that bc... ya lol. lmk if anything comes across as harmful! not proofread...

mark... would probably want someone who is just very chill in general. an ambivert for sure. someone very genuine, personable and freindly. someone who can go with the flow but is also so naturally funny. he laughs at everything so that shouldn't be too hard LMAO. loves people who have good music taste. LOOVE a street style type of person. dancer maybe?? someone who he can spend alone time with and fully drop any act he feels he needs to put up. someone who makes him feel safe and comforted. i don't think height matters to him since i think he's pretty secure with himself! likes someone with a loud laugh hehe. someone poc probably. prefers longer hair but will hype you up no matter what you look like because he genuinely finds you perfect. someone who hypes him up as well

renjun... someone artsy for sure! probably someone softer and a more... calming? aura? if he can sit in silence with you and still feel fulfilled i think that's perfect for him. someone shorter maybe? likes full cheeks. doesn't really matter what style for him tbh, he has a pretty dark academia style so if you're similar that cool but if you can change the way he dresses and have him explore new things, he is so down for that. someone who supports him and comforts him when he's having a hard week/month/etc. someone who likes cafes and museums. likes unique features. bubbly personality but also someone who is silently observant. a sucker for intelligent ppl

jeno... hmm... someone cool for sure. likes darker styles i feel like? but also likes it when you dress in lighter colors and stuff as well! doesn't matter what length your hair is, but likes pixie cuts tbh. i feel like he likes more quirky people since he can be a bit serious sometimes. shy boy/excited cute partner trope for sure. someone more assertive. nice smile so you can both be known as the cute smile couple muahaha. like someone who he can go on hikes with and someone who likes nature, dogs and enjoys being more adventurous. would like someone to nurture him tbh, like not baby him but... can take care of him and make him feel loved and relaxed. likes to feel wanted and manly most of the time though. giving very wattpad bad boy whos also a sweetheart?

haechan... someone shy probably so he can be brought back down to earth LMAO but again!!! i think as long as he clicks with someone, he won't really mind. likes to reassure his partner but also likes someone who is driven and passionate about something. would enjoy being around someone who enjoys watching movies and tv. looots of movie dates. someone in a more vintage style would be very intriguing to him. likes people out of the norm. think of chae from twice in regards to style. someone confident no matter what people say about them. likes to be able to have emotional conversations and be open about issues so someone more mature in that aspect would be appreciated. likes clingy people tbh. someone who's probably a bit more structured

jaemin... likes people who are hard to understand. likes people who dress and act however they want to. would support you no matter what LMAO. someone respectful and polite and full of love. animal lover. he pegs me as the type of person who goes for personality more than anything else, if he finds you attractive its just a plus LOL. definitely someone who's an ambivert. someone who can keep up when he's more excited/extroverted but also someone who can sit, cuddle, cook and read in silence with. definitely someone cute! especially if they seem more intimidating on the outside. he finds that juxtaposition really charming. maybe someone short but i don't think it would make or break anything. a poc lover, SLAAYY. hates try-hards or pick me's. someone who can give him confidence and vice versa

chenle... someone more emotionally mature and go with the flow. someone who is consistent. probably someone smart but not necessarily academically? like someone who is wise! life smart LOL. someone who enjoys cooking and shopping together. likes someone who is able to drive him forward if he feels stuck. someone who's really nice. like really REALLY nice. someone who can teach him good values and helps him see life through different perspectives. doesn't really care too much about style, i can't see him being with someone who is heavy heavy into fashion unless its more leaned towards street wear. just someone really cool, yknow? enjoys introverts because he likes to be able to be the only person to see you come out of your shell

jisung... short extrovert HAHA. he's pretty tall so tbh... most people are shorter than him so it doesn't really matter. but i love the trope of him being super quiet with a partner who enjoys peppering his face in kisses and bragging about him to all their friends. carefree person for sure. someone who can let him look at hard situations and help him alleviate his anxiety and let him know everything is gonna be okay because he's trying his best. likes darker styles. i think of like 2014 tumblr when i think of him LMAOO. so yeah... maybe something like that but modernized? likes bangs. loooves people who are naturally cute. likes people who get flustered easily haha. someone who's not embarrassed to show that they love him

[cadiacore]

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡ night sky: chapter two | ruhn danaan x fem!reader

warning(s): implied sui*idal thoughts, depression, anxiety, fluff, angst, Ruhn being the biggest sweetheart, and bad parents. if i missed anything please lmk!

a/n: hello friends, i cannot believe i finally finished this after two months. depression and anxiety have been really kicking my ass lately. also, sorry for the late post, i got caught up in editing lol. i hope you all enjoy and if you liked this chapter please leave some feedback, i would love to hear your thoughts and theories. if you would like to be on the taglist, please send me an ask or tell me in the replies! thank you! xoxo

   Everything too felt heavy. Exhaustion and irritability had a tight grip over Y/N’s emotions. It had been weeks since she last saw her new friends. The paperwork that had to be done by midnight, sat blank on her laptop. She wanted nothing more than to sleep.

   Each day, Y/N prayed to not wake whenever she did sleep. They say isolation makes everything worse for someone who is already vulnerable. However, Y/N had always thrown herself into her work. All the paperwork needed done anyway. If she had any chance of moving out, she would need to work more and harder. She placed her hand over her heart and began to count. It was a trick Fury had taught her when she was still around. Work use to be fun and she enjoyed doing the paperwork, and enjoyed doing forensics. Now? She did it to survive. 

   Just at the thought of having to go to work made her want to cry. Like she was to do now. She needed to breathe. Being in this house didn’t help matters. Y/N rubbed the middle of her chest and closed her laptop.  She obviously wasn’t getting any work done by just sitting and staring at it. A walk would help her clear her head. 

   Her heart began to pound harder against her ribcage, and her airway began to cave. She definitely needed to get out of the house. Y/N grabbed her denim jacket that hung on the hook and pulled it on. 

   She didn’t bother to bring her phone, no one ever bothered to call her anyway. 

   As she walked down the side of the street, she noticed the lack of activity in the city. No dive bars had their doors open, no sound of vehicles, or people arguing. That was unusual for a Friday night. Goosebumps began to run across her skin as she continued to walk. The further she got into the city circle, the worse she felt. Dread, doom, whatever it may be, it made her skin crawl. Something was terribly wrong. 

   As Y/N approached the bench Ruhn was already there. He was sitting with someone else who she didn’t recognize. She decide to change her direction towards the docks. In any case, she didn't really feel up for a conversation and preferred not to disturb anyone. Once she found a spot on the dock that was a good distance away from everything, Y/N let herself cry. 

   She drew her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on top of them. How was she supposed to live up to her parent's expectations without sacrificing her sanity? Maybe it was the price she had to pay for being born in the family she did. She hated to say it but she hated her parents. That thought weighed heavy on her heart because she really did want to love her parents but can’t. Not when they treated her like shit. Y/N groaned. Her sweater was soaked with tears and she knew she looked like a wreck. When she looked in the mirror that morning, she had dark circles around her eyes from the lack of sleep. She sighed and wiped her tear stained cheeks with the back of her hand. 

   Thats when the most horrifying thought slipped into her mind, 

   What if I disappeared? 

   Nobody would notice and she could finally have a sense of peace. At the thought her heart began to race once more. Her hands were shaky and her breathing became uneven. She didn’t understand what was happening to her and why she had become so emotional. She didn’t even know she was rocking herself until someone laid a hand on her shoulder. 

   Y/N jumped but when she saw Ruhn’s face, the fear left her. His touch sent shock waves through her body and it…soothed her? 

   “Hey, what are you doing out?” he asked, his voice so gentle that it made her want to cry harder. No one had ever spoken to her like that. 

   Y/N sucked in a breath and picked at the tears in her jeans, “Trying to clear my head,” When she exhaled, it came out shaky.

   In the night sky, the Starsword glinted against the moon above both of their head causing a halo effect around Ruhn. “We haven’t seen you in a while,” he said and she could have sworn there was a hint of sadness in his tone. She let it go. 

   The prince waited as Y/N swallowed down the lump in her throat and said, “I feel defeated,” she said, 

   “How come?” 

   “Stress, and trying to live up to impossible expectations,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair, barely holding back tears.

   “If they’re impossible, why try to live up to them?” he asked, 

   He had a point. 

   Y/N knew she couldn’t keep up this impossible task she set for herself, but when someone takes the light from you, how desperate would you be to get it back? Everything. She wanted the light that Fury involuntary took from her. It was never her sister’s intention but Y/N envied her for all the praise she got.

   “They want me to be someone I can’t. They want a daughter who is tough, and doesn’t show her feelings, to be smart,” Her voice trailed off,

   “You don’t have to be what they want, you know?” he said. Y/N pressed her palm to her temple and stared at the prince,

   “It’s stupid but I don’t know how much more I can take. I don’t want to be here anymore. I can’t even call that place home. They make me want to…die.”

   Saying those words aloud made her sag with some relief. She was taught to suppress her feelings because they insignificant to her parents and to other people. If her mother heard her right now, she would throw a fit.

   “You won’t, right?” 

   “Won’t what?” 

   “Die.” 

   Silence hung in the air between them. If she said she wouldn’t, she would only be lying to him and that was the last thing she wanted to do. Before she could say anything, he drew her into his arms and rested his chin ontop of her head. Why was he being so kind to her? 

   “You don’t need to die for things to get better. You need to live and be who you want to be, it won’t always be this way,” he said quietly as he rocked her,

   “Why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before?” she asked, 

   “Because I have. I’ve talked myself out of doing it,” 

   Y/N looked up and met his eyes. She could see the shadows of pain and sadness in his eyes and she believed him. 

   “Do you want to stay with us for a while? I would feel better if you were away from your parents and where I can watch over you,” he said. The question caught her off guard since this is only the second time she’s talked with him. “It’s only if you want to, of course,” he added quickly, 

   Yes. Yes, she did want to be around him more and yes, she wanted to be away from her parents. She pressed her forehead to his chest and nodded, “I’ll stay with you but there’s one downfall,”

   “And what would that be?” 

   “I can’t cook,” 

*two weeks later*

   “Flynn, can you get the door!” Y/N called out as she pulled the cake out of the oven. All she had to do now was wait for it to cool then ice it. Since it was Bryce’s birthday, she wanted to do something special for her friend, so she baked her a cake. 

   Y/N did have help from the three males she currently roomed with. They helped grab things from the top shelves and ran to get ingredients from the store. Without them, this would have been a mess. Her mother had never really taught her how to bake but with help from Ruhn, she learned pretty quickly. 

   “It’s Hunt!” Flynn called from the other room. Y/N was thankful Hunt had been able to help set up the surprise party for his Mate because she has never planned anything for someone else before. Of course, Flynn and Declan helped when they could but Ruhn was the most help. He told her things about Bryce that could be incorporated into the party planning such as her favorite colors, her interests, what music she liked, the whole nine yards.

   “Oh good!” Y/N took off her apron and placed the presents next to the cake,     “Hey Flynn, will you get drinks ready? I’m sure she’s going to show up earlier than she said she would,” 

   “You’ve got it, Y/N/N,” he said, taking Declan with him. 

   “Now for the most dreaded part of making a cake, the icing,” she sighed,

                                                ________

   The party was a success. Bryce loved her cake and everyone was happy. 

   Y/N was happy. 

   She sat next to Ruhn and sipped her tea as Bryce opened her presents. It was a shitshow about the whole ordeal with the Archangels, and Y/N surely needed a distraction too. With being so busy in her new position in the Aux, she deserved a break. She was no longer just a C.I. for the Aux, she now worked with Ruhn and Flynn. Mainly for basic things but when she spent her days with Declan, she was scanning footage. 

   Ruhn shifted toward her, draping his arm over the back of the couch, and grinned at her, “You look happy,” he said, 

   “I am happy. You gave me something to be happy about, and I don’t know how to repay you for it,” 

   “You don’t have to, Y/N. I did it because I care,” Ruhn smiled at her and her heart threatened to melt. 

   In that second, something tugged at her ribcage. She placed a hand on her side and held it there. It wasn’t painful but it was uncomfortable. The prince looked to where her hand was and his eyes widened, “Y/N?” 

   She must have made some type of noise because now everyone looked at her. The attention made her cheeks heat but Bryce tugged Y/N into the kitchen, “Bryce?” Y/N whispered, 

   “I know, It’s okay. Are you okay?” 

   “Your brother is my mate,” 

- there will be a part three! 

[softersinned]

@murdcck​​ / starter call.

If she takes the time to consider her options for things she could have done this evening, she will find that there are about a thousand better ways for the night to have ended. For instance, she could be locked in a traffic jam. Her bathtub could have overflowed and she could be cleaning up a flood in her bathroom. Someone could have broken into her apartment, tied her to a chair, and stolen all of her money, art, and the keys to her car, and it would still be less stressful than tonight is proving.

          Astoria taps an idle rhythm against the table as she waits, certain that she’s being left in here to sweat it out. And she’d be a liar if she pretended that it wasn’t getting to her — it’s Wilson Fisk, of course it’s getting to her, she’s not so much a fool that she imagines she can bat her eyelashes to get out of this one — but she’s going to pretend it anyway. The only way to let this get worse is to show weakness. So she keeps her breathing calm and measured, hums idly to herself as she waits, foot swinging in time with the song she’s singing under her breath, tries not to sweat to death in the summer’s heat.

          God, she misses Boston. Nobody ever did this to her in Boston.

          The door finally opens and Astoria looks up with a serene smile. Not Fisk himself — she’s not important enough for that — but one of his lieutenants. One of his favorites, if rumor is to be believed. The tapping of her fingers stops, and Astoria lets out a little hum of disapproval as she uncrosses her legs and plants both feet on the floor.

          “I’ve stayed here as a courtesy,” she says after a beat, “because Mr. Fisk wanted to ask me about what happened tonight. Least you all could do is crack open a window.”

[writefightandflightclub]

At ease, soldier (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader)

What is this? This is 8/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. (More deets in pinned post). The prompt is “I’ve never seen you dressed-up like this and **** you’re hot.”

Summary: when Santi moves in with you following his divorce, he didn’t anticipate seeing you in THAT DRESS. It does things to him, and has him reevaluating everything he feels for you, and everything he thinks he knows about home.

Author’s note: this has divorced!dad!Santi, so it’s a bit different (marriage / child not with reader). This might not be my best thought-out one-shot ever, or my best portrayal of Santi, but it is what it is. I personally think the thing reader does is adorbs, fight me if you disagree :P I really hope you like it! <3 Thank you as always for reading, commenting, and sharing. It means the world.

Rating: M/E (18+ ONLY, Minors do not read or interact. Thank you.)

Word count: this is not as long as some of the others! Hurrah!

Warnings: masturbation (m); Santi has super sexual thoughts about reader and they’re not together- they are written but not said out loud. theme of divorce but not too angsty. few mentions of shared custody / parenting (not reader’s child). Food mentions. Swearing. Kissing. Lmk if I missed any.

GIF: @realoscarisaac​

Tagging: @isvvc-pvscvl​ @anetteaneta​ @stardustkenobi​ @casifer-is-king​ @foxilayde​ @tlcwrites​ @aellynera​ @kindablackenedsuperhero​

“Hey, look. Thank you for this,” Santi says, softly and sincerely as you cross him again in the hallway, halting you with a hand on your shoulder. The heat from his palm bleeds through the thin fabric of your t-shirt and you consider wresting yourself sharply away from the pleasant torment of him. At the same time, you consider leaning in to his warm chest and staying there, so help you, curled like a leaf against the sturdy trunk of him.

He’s moving in with you, following the long, drawn-out process of his divorce. It has been a long time coming, but his marital house -which he has lived in alone going on a year - has finally been sold-off and split with his ex. And so, here he is, treading lightly and making himself small in your home - as if this isn’t somewhere he’s been loud and brash and welcome ever since you bought the damn place.

You can tell he’s grateful. He’s expressed it enough times. It’s the apology in his eyes you can’t stand - as if he’s some kind of burden. He’s been through a lot, but you want him to walk tall, instead of stooping under the weight of his “bad decisions”. He blames himself for a lot of things that you don’t think he ought to, not least the collapse of his marriage. She had cheated; although, he insists there were problems long before that. Perhaps even right from the beginning. He’d always been a travelling soldier, and even after he was discharged he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“I promise. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I get back on my feet,” he adds, self-consciously smoothing a hand over his scruff.

You smile softly. His promises still mean something to you. Even if he hadn’t seen through the promise of his marriage, you know he had tried. You know his word is never given lightly.

It’s hard. To start again, all over again. You know. You, yourself, were rattling around in a house too big for one, bought for two, perhaps meant for more - but that hadn’t worked out either. You’d had to forego promises you made as well.

“There’s no rush. Honestly.”

There isn’t. Between the legal fees and alimony, and carving up his assets, Santi needs a little time to get his finances together before he can consider his own place. You’re happy for him to take all of the time he needs. Out of the options available to him, you had been both the preferred one, and the last to offer. The other boys don’t have space. He’d considered a houseshare, but he needed somewhere his little daughter, Ava, could still come to stay on weekends.

You have space. Ava adores you. You were spending a lot of time with Santi anyway. For all those reasons, it was a no-brainier. You’d only hesitated so long in offering due to your impossible, undying love for the man. Did you really want to do that to yourself? To torment yourself with him, in your home?

“It’s no problem at all, but I do need you to haul this stuff inside a little faster, okay? I still have a date tonight, slowpoke.”

“You got it, boss.”

You chuckle, punching him playfully in the tricep, and traipsing out to the lawn to pick-up another box.

Perhaps it was ludicrous to go on a date tonight, of all nights, but at least you admit to yourself that it is an exercise in majorly over-compensating. It is some conscious attempt to signify how Not Into Him you are, and you are hoping -if the guy is cute enough and the sex is earth-shattering enough- that perhaps you could even convince yourself.

Aside from your well-established feelings for him, this whole arrangement is pretty dangerous. Santi is too easy to be around, and if you let yourself sink into the cosy bubble of his company, you fear you will never think to look for anyone else again. Whilst that would be just fine with you - Santi, on the other hand? He’s never been interested in you like that. Probably hasn’t ever entertained the idea of it. Besides, the timing between you two - even if there was something there- has never been quite right. There was always some mission or woman or man or bad decision getting in the way.

You sigh, as you bend and pick-up a box, feeling like your date is already doomed as thoughts of Santi swirl relentlessly in your head.

You can hope, perhaps, that it won’t turn out to have been a terrible decision to invite him into your home. Perhaps living with him will even help you get over him, once and for all, in a way that nothing and no-one else has managed to. You could discover all of his annoying habits and start bickering over whose turn it is to take the bins out until you hate each other, perhaps? However, somehow you think this is unlikely - when you’d broken up with Malik, Santi’s presence in your house had gotten you through. His laugh and his warmth had curled into every corner of this structure and nestled there, driving out all of the cobwebs. Santi made this house a home again, before he ever lived in it. In a way, you dread to think what will happen now.

“Make yourself at home, okay?” you encourage - this time as you cross him on the landing. “Put your stuff wherever. Take up some space. Hang your guitar above the fireplace. Hell, get a new one. Hang that too.” That had been a point of contention with her. “Paint your bedroom black, like you always wanted when you were a kid, whatever you want.”

Santi smiles warmly at you as he gets the message you’re so desperately trying to hammer home. You don’t want him to shrink himself into a corner. You want him to be at ease here. You want him to feel welcome.

With words escaping him, Santi’s hands wind around the back of your head, and he casually leans over, planting a quick but heartfelt kiss of gratitude, right in the middle of your forehead. “I love you,” he says freely, and, as he trots abruptly down the stairs, you only wish he meant it in the same way your heart sings its reply.

You do want him to relax here. He’s carried so much for so long. He’s carried it halfway around the world and back again, and the man deserves the break.

****

“Can I ask your opinion?” you call through his new bedroom door, cracking it and poking your head in as he responds affirmatively.

“Sure, come in.”

Santi watches as your body follows the path of your head, the slow reveal of your striking dress oddly tantalising, and sending a subtle surge of heat through him which he wasn’t prepared for. 

“How do I look?” you say apprehensively, holding out your palms before doing a little half-swivel, one hand poised on your hip.

Santi’s extremely conscious that his eyes widen, and he swears he must look like a cartoon, feeling like they’re popping out of his head in surprise when he clocks you.

You’re wearing a form-fitting, flattering dress. It’s long, and it hugs you perfectly where it touches, with subtle hints of leg and cleavage where the luxe material gives way to soft, inviting skin. Your hair and make-up are different than usual too, and you really look the whole package - so much so that Santi takes a minute to form a coherent thought, beyond the low whistle he expels when he sees you stood before him.

Shit - he knows it has been too long since he said anything, and yet all he can muster from his slack jaw is a feeble croak.

Wow. Holy shit.

Santi is a little thrown. Your body looks amazing. You look sultry and sexy, and like sex-on-legs, if he’s honest. He tries to think or speak, but he’s not sure if he’s ever seen you dressed-up quite like this, and you have him feeling more than a little stupefied.

He gulps.

It’s not as though you look transformed, or anything. You’re an attractive woman, always, and the dress simply highlights that. No change there. But the way he’s responding to you is something new, and not something he entirely understands. Perhaps he simply became so used to seeing you clad in fatigues and sweats and overalls, usually covered in mud and sweat and blood. Perhaps he’s spent so long schooling himself into believing you’re someone he couldn’t and shouldn’t hit on -his friend- that he simply buried it. Buried it under his missions and his marriage and his house and his divorce. But now that all of those things are gone, and all the silt stirred-up, perhaps there is space for it to resurface? Now that, for the first time in a long-time, he feels at ease, and, here you are, looking like that?

Oh boy. His eyes trail over you further as though he can’t get enough. His gaze snags on the places the dress clings to you, providing a subtle outline of your form. He lingers on the places where you’re practically busting out of it- he likes those places especially.

He likes it a little too much, he realises, as he experiences an involuntary rush of blood to his cock, and he subtly rearranges his hands in front of him to disguise the fact as he stands to attention for you. 

Fuck, what would Frankie say? Santi thinks, as he reaches for literally any wholesome thought where none seem to exist - in his mind nor his vocabulary - while he’s looking at you.

“You look nice,” he manages to say, but that’s not how he’s phrasing it in his head. Not at all.

I wanna shove my tongue between your thighs, honey. I want you to slip those red lips down on my dick until you drain my balls dry.

“Nice?” you bristle. “Nice, Santiago? I don’t want to look nice.”

“How do you want to look?”

Naked, on my bed? Or, maybe that dress hitched all the way up. Those juicy hips of yours being marked by my hands as I bounce you on me until I fill you up.

You cross to the cheval mirror at the opposite side of the room, further examining yourself.

Holy shit, you look good from the back too.

Santi may be a lapsed Catholic, but he certainly feels like he needs to visit confession with the thoughts he’s having about you right now. He swears he must have started visibly sweating.

“I don’t know,” you say, softly twirling. “Bangable, I guess? Come on, you’re a straight, hot-blooded male. If a woman turned-up to a date wearing this, would this do it for you? It’s not too much?”

He gulps. “Yes. Yep. For sure. That’ll do it.”

When you flick your eyes back to him, with a soft, humble smile, laced delicately with an inner confidence, he finally has a wholesome thought again:

You’re beautiful.

“I think it’s a little too much... but I guess we’ll find out,” you sing-song, his eyes following your hips as you wiggle back to the door, before turning back to him over your shoulder. “Do you have everything you need before I go?”

He looks at your plush red lips. He licks his own.

I need you on your knees.

Oh well, he’d managed to be wholesome for all of two seconds. That was something.

“I’m good,” he pushes out. “When will you be back?”

“Don’t wait up,” you breeze. “He has a nice pad, so if it works out I think we’ll be heading to his place.”

His place?

Santi can’t help but wonder why he’s suddenly imagining what sounds you might make underneath another man. Hell, whether he could double the intensity of those pretty noises under him instead.

This is not ideal. This is not ideal at all, when he hasn’t even made it through day one.

He hasn’t felt this... aroused in a long-time. Not since long before things went south with her. He hasn’t been this hard for a woman in just as long. He’s been hard in the sense of a mechanical, routine need, sure, where he has the basic need to pleasure himself; but this is something else. This is potent. This is lust, raw and consuming. This is not a general need, but it is startling in its specificity.

As you leave, and he takes himself urgently out of his pants, he understands that this is all for you. Moreover, as he winds his hand around himself, and works his shaft to the thought of you, he has the best orgasm he’s had in a long time.

When he’s done, he has some severe post-nut clarity, feeling guilty that he has moved into your home and spilled himself on your sheets to the thought of you; on day one, no less. It’s not very respectful.

But at the same time, he’s caught in a spiral. It’s like you have flipped a switch in him.

And, as much as he feels a little guilty, and a little terrified by the sudden onslaught of his desire, he feels oddly at ease. He already feels at home.

****

Santi is curled-up on the couch when he hears your key rattle in the door, and you tread in looking just as breath-taking, but a little more sombre than earlier. Having already shed your coat and kicked-off your shoes at the door, you collapse into the arm chair opposite him, your dress ballooning momentarily with a waft of air.

“It didn’t work out,” you explain solemly, answering the question on the tip of his tongue. He flicks off the distracting TV he was half-watching to give you his full attention.

“How?” he asks, leaning unconsciously forward in his seat, his eyebrows raised and mouth curling in a soft sympathetic smile. “There’s no way he didn’t like the dress.”

“Oh, he loved the dress. But I didn’t love him. He was a bit of an ass, actually. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You okay? Did he hurt you? Say something to you?” Santi searches your face urgently, his eyes suddenly intense and muscles coiled. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

You lean forward in your own seat and pat him on the thigh. Your perfume wafts over him. You smell delectable. “Stand down, Garcia. You’re fine. I don’t need anyone knee-capped. I’m just tired.” You stand, and his chin tips up to follow you. “Gonna wash-up and go to bed,” you add, tiredly. “Your night okay?”

“Yep. Fine,” he says briefly, more concerned with you. You look a little sad. A little wistful, he thinks. “Think I left my entire box of underwear in ‘Fish’s car. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.” He smiles up at you gently, with those deep, brown eyes of his, as that earns a light laugh from you. He saws his hand over his chin, gaze remaining soft as he watches you disappear and bid him goodnight. You swing around the doorframe as your hand clutches it, a trail of diaphonous fabric floating after you, as though you are a vision which could disappear in a cloud of smoke. It scares him that you would, he realises. He’s usually the one who disappears. Who retreats.

He watches you slink away, his mind already busy, working on how he might pick you up from your slump, and he plods to the kitchen.

You are upstairs in your en suite when he calls in to you, and, once you admit him, he transfers a steaming mug of sleep tea to your night-stand as a little pick-me-up. A small token, but one that makes you gasp in a breath, looking at his thoughtful gesture in confusion and surprise. “Thank you. That’s sweet of you.”

“Don’t sound quite so surprised,” he says thickly as he approaches you where you hover next to the sink. “Just because she ditched me doesn’t mean I’m a total write-off. I do have some redeeming qualities.”

He wraps his hands around the back of your head and he pulls you to him, planting another kiss to your forehead; but this time, in the dusky bedroom light, it hits different. It is slower and softer, and he looks far more comely. It sends a hot flare of yearning through you, blazing into every nook of you.

“I know that,” you say steadily, your fingers and thumb reaching up to play idly with the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. Your fingers brush his arm before you check yourself, turning away from him and towards the sink so that he can’t see your desire catching like a flare - and instead you continue to cleanse the make-up from your face, grateful for the cover the activity provides. “In fact, maybe I should have gone to dinner with you,” you snicker, innocently, before you think of the full implication of your words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean like that...” you hastily backpedal. “Just because we live together I’m not planning on getting ideas.”

“It’s okay,” he says, voice low and steady and soothing enough to halt your ramble. “You can go getting ideas if you want to.”

You whip your head towards him, a gulp trailing down your throat, as you see the vaguest hint of a suggestive eyebrow, of a smug smile dancing at the corners of his lips. You will yourself to remain in place; to avoid the call to lean in to his inviting lips or chest - even if he’s not giving you any signal that he would move away if you did.

You are hot aren’t you? Santi thinks. More than that; you are beautiful too. Now that he’s allowing himself to notice it, he can’t stop noticing it.

Seeking air, and space, the world shrinking to a dot, you tear yourself away from the sink and stride out into the bedroom, posting yourself at the door and signifying it is time for him to head out too. He takes the hint, and he comes to stand opposite you in the hallway, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweat pants.

“How are you doing?” you ask breathily, not knowing what has come over you but trying to push this heady, unravelling feeling away. To bundle it up and bind it back down. “First night in a new place?” You consider it, chiding yourself. “I should have been here. This whole date thing was stupid.”

It’s not a new place at all though, Santi thinks. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever been somewhere more familiar. Anywhere more like home. Not even with her - Ava notwithstanding, of course; that little girl is his pride and joy.

When Santi doesn’t answer, his eyes softly glowing at you instead, you reach to fill the silence, lest you fall all the way into the pit of yearning. “Maybe us living together is a bad idea. This is day one and you’re already counselling me through a bad date.”

“What else are friends for?” he smiles meaningfully. Gratefully, again. You can tell what he’s likely thinking. He’s thinking about all the times you have counselled him through years of bad decisions. You’ve always been there for him.

“Right.” Friends, you remind yourself, as the hall-light pools around him like spun gold.

He reaches his sock-clothed foot out to gently bump yours. “Well, don’t take tonight too hard, okay? You’re a catch.”

Feeling bashful, you fold you arms and smile, looking down at the floor and away from the vision that is him.

You kick your foot out to boop his in return, with your sizeable, fluffy slipper. “Well. You’re pretty bangable too, you know. Someone will snap you right up, as soon as you’re ready.” 

Someone.

He turns his mouth downward, and tilts his head to the side. “Hmm,” he says as if considering your point. “Kinda looking for a little more than a bang though. I want someone who can be my best friend too. And... best friends? They’re kinda hard to come by.” 

Your heart hammers in your chest. His tone is casual, but his eyes are earnest, and your desire unravels like spools of red ribbons from your core.

The way he’s looking at you, from beneath his lashes, a smirk developing at the corners of his lips has you almost collapsed to the floor with yearning, and you think, if he doesn’t step away from your door soon, you will find it hard to resist the temptation to drag him inside - if he’s willing. You will be tempted to let these ribbons wind around him and coax him to you.

However, Santi simply lets his comment hang in the space between you as you fumble for a response, before turning away and shuffling down the hall and towards his room. 

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he calls, the pet name lighting you on fire. Beautiful.

“‘Night,” you call back to him, as casually as possible, before disappearing hurriedly inside your door and throwing yourself face down on to the bed with a silent scream.

Santi, for his part, reaches his respective room, and throws himself backwards on to the bed, having to fight the urge to run straight back to your room and kiss you senseless, if he’s honest. As he sighs out a huge breath and brings his hands up to his face, a light chuckle befalls him, and he has to consider what’s so funny. He lands on it quickly.

She - his ex-  must hate this living arrangement, he realises. She’d always thought the two of you had something. She’d insisted. Had gotten mad jealous over it too. In all honesty, Santi had never seen it. Or, not at the time, at least.

Perhaps the timing had never been right.

...Not until now, perhaps?

****

The atmosphere is different in the morning. More settled, thanks goodness.

You’re up earlier than Santi, and you get to work in the smaller guest bedroom, which you had kept off-limits to him the day prior. When you’re ready, you call down to him - he’s in the kitchen getting a head start on breakfast- insisting that he comes upstairs.

He pads up to find you in the hall, stood with a huge smile plastered on your face.

“I have a surprise for you,” you announce to him, and, a curious, happy look blooms over his sharp features.

“Okay,” he says, oblivious, but his interest piqued as you swing the door open and hustle him inside ahead of you, clinging to his t-shirt.

“It’s not finished yet,” you explain from behind him as he moves his head to look around the room, freshly painted and carpeted, and entirely different to how it looked before. “Ava still likes purple, right?” you say to his back, delight infusing your voice as he takes it all in. “Oh, and the birds-“ you point “-the boys and I each painted one. Benny’s is super wonky. I know it’s cheesy as all hell, but we wanted to remind you that you -and Ava- you’ll always have us as family.”

Santi doesn’t say anything. He can’t. He’s speechless with gratitude. It is all he can do to look around the room and take in all of the details. The little bed and princess canopy, the shelves lined with a few books to start her off.

This is something he didn’t dream he would be able to give Ava again for a long time. At least, not without some coordinates and a shovel.

He rasps one hand over his stubble, and you come up beside him, seeing that his eyes are full with tears, and his face pinched, as he fights to supress his emotions. He doesn’t cry often, and there’s not a lot that can reduce him to tears, so you can tell from his reaction how much this all means to him.

Your voice and your manner softening, you slot both of your hands around one of his and give him a squeeze there, before rubbing soothing circles into his back.

When you speak again, your voice is full, cracking with emotion. “I know this can’t be easy, Santi. And you need to know that you are home for Ava, wherever you are, whatever happens. But I thought this would help a little too?” He sneakily thumbs away a tear from the corner of his eye as your words overwhelm him. “I hope I didn’t take too much of a liberty,” you continue, looking around the room, and wandering deeper into it. “Thought I’d get it half-done and then you could choose the rest with Ava tomorrow?” 

You turn back to him, smiling over your shoulder before turning all the way, your expression bright and hopeful and everything he hasn’t been able to muster for himself.

Still choked-up, Santi takes a few steps forward to meet you in the centre of the room, his long lashes beaded with diamond-like tears. He takes your hands in his, one to each side, and he presses his forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” he rasps, his voice full of holes, and your own eyes overflow too as his hands squeeze yours, happy that he’s happy, and sad that he’s in pain too.

After a few moments like this, the yearning creeps in, and, lest it invade everything, you extricate yourself from him gently, padding towards the door and offering, in a soft voice, to give him a minute alone.

“Wait,” he says, his voice catching you as you reach the hallway, evidently yielding a great deal of power for such a breathy thing, and it halts you in your tracks. “Can I try something?”

“Try what?” you ask, your heart and your voice fluttering in tandem, as Santi moves towards you in the hall with purpose.

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes search yours, brimming with emotion and softness and yearning too, his thumb and forefinger coming-up to clasp your chin tenderly in his grip.

“Is this a good idea?” you babble, as his lips hover moments from yours, and you are drawn to him with an achingly slow gravity. “You’re emotional, and you’re rushing and maybe you’re projecting or... maybe a million other things and I... really like you,” you say, raising your hands in between you, your palms pressed to his chest as your voice catches on hooks in your throat - keeping him at a slight distance before you can succumb to him. Immediately, he stops his advances, one hand winding gently around your waist. “Santi, I mean, I really like you,” you elaborate, you voice brittle and coming undone.

As much as you want this -have wanted this-you couldn’t face being one of his whims or mistakes or bad decisions. You couldn’t face being something he ended up leaving behind. He means too much to you for that.

Sensing your pain now, Santi smiles softly at you, not angry or offended in the slighest, but nodding in understanding. Tenderly, he trails the pad of his thumb along your jawline, and across your lower lip. He still finds apprehension in your eyes, and so, instead of the kiss he craves, he holds your head gently with one of his hands, and he dips forward to plant a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, your eyes fluttering closed and a single tear spilling out of you as it lands.

Then, he pulls back, both of you wearing watery smiles, and feeling more than a little frayed around the edges.

“I get it,” he admits, nodding slowly. “On paper, this seems like another of my bad fucking ideas, doesn’t it? But...” he explains softly, eyes shining at you. “I feel as though I finally have things figured out. I feel like I know where I’m supposed to be.”

You nibble on your lower lip, a tentative, shy smile brewing. “Guess that was one powerful dress I wore last night, huh?”

“Hmm,” he considers, with a gentle chuckle. “It was, for sure, honey. Honestly though? This sports bra and overalls get-up is doing it for me too,” he admits, with a lopsided grin, nodding down at your DIY outfit. 

You examine his eyes in disbelief. You can’t believe that he’s looking at you like that. Like you’ve always wanted; and yet... you essentially knocked him back, your nerves and anxieties getting the better of you, despite his lips being moments from yours.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you gulp, eyes heavy with apology.

“Don’t worry,” he says, tilting his head towards the end of the hallway. “Let’s go make some more coffee. Also, I think you deserve some pancakes, sweetie.” He offers his hand to you and with a gentle song in your heart you take it, Santi leading you back downstairs into the kitchen.

You giggle, suddenly giddy as you shake out your remaining nerves and shock and doubts. As you settle.

By the time you watch Santi open-up the cupboards and search inside, turning back to you to ask if you want chocolate chip pancakes, a tiny note of delight in his eyes, he finds you looking at him with a gentle heat, brewing and eddying and clasping him in its tendrils, dragging him under with you. It causes him to double-take as he looks between you and the food-stuffs, until you have his whole attention. Until the world around him shrinks to you.

“Santi,” you suspire, tugging on his t-shirt to spin him towards you, your voice shaking like a leaf. “You took me by surprise up there. Any chance we can... C-Can we... try that again?”

A gulp trails down his throat, mirroring the heat sinking and settling into your core, even with the mere anticipation of his lips brushing against yours; of feeling his warmth where you have long been cold. You watch his tongue darting out to whet his lips, and it is as though you are already parted for him with the motion, your own lips already spread to accomodate the way he will delve into you, opening you up for him.

Then, Santi surges forward, hands holding you securely yet softly at your back and gathering you to his mouth, as if he is parched of you, all the yearning collapsing in on itself in one final surge as he flows into your arms. Yet, for all the force of your yearning meeting in the middle, and for the harsh initial crush of your lips, when the wave crashes, it is delicate and soft, his hand cupping your face and his tongue a delicate interlocuter, uttering promises against yours. Promises you are sure he will keep.

As the kiss deepens, you truly feel him, hard and sturdy everywhere around you except for this molten, supple tongue which courses into your being like a trail of fire. His kiss is like starlight tossed into a dark pit. You are lit but your hunger will never be sated; and instead you will kiss him and devour him again and again, opening yourself up to him to feed the dark.

Suddenly, with this kiss, his warmth is on you and filling you and one with you, unravelling, and you wonder what you ever did without it. How you ever felt at ease with this yearning within you; although, you suppose you didn’t. You suppose you longed for this divine quickening and stilling, this slickness and friction. You longed to feel him, and most of all, you longed for him to yearn for you in return.

And, finally, as the kiss wanes and you hold each other tightly, Santi considers that although he planned to stay in your house for a mere few months, he has a feeling his stay by your side will be far longer. And, on your side, as you hold him against you and this house feels like a haven in ways it never has before, you are content in the knolwedge that your travelling soldier is finally at ease.

Finally at home.

A home for one, but meant for more, finally fulfilling its purpose.

[folkloreguk]

Shower Thoughts

A/N: I like writing about personal emotions a lot…this feels a little like writing a diary but also like self-therapy and it really helps me. I hope anyone who also feels this way knows that they’re not alone with those feelings. Also happy birthday to the sweetest @sunghoonied!! I wrote this thinking of you and I hope you have the best day ♡ PS. I didn't proofread this so if you find errors kindly lmk please! x

genre: optional bias (male), meant to comfort you, angst, fluff, talk of loneliness / anxiety but with a good ending!

words: ~ 2.5 k

taglist: @lovely-ateez, @mochi-ficz, @soundsofminho, @runaway-fics

People said that walking was supposed to clear your mind. But then why was it, that you had gotten so lost in your worst thoughts out there? The time spent in fresh air was meant to let your mind wander to calm places and smiling at strangers should have made you feel less lonely. But with every step you took and with every passing face your body felt heavier. Not only did you carry your figure, but the crushing burden that had been nagging at you for weeks.

Watching others stroll around the streets seemed so easy. And perhaps it should have been easy, after all. It made you wonder, maybe you were the only one whose mind was constantly covered in dark rain clouds. Maybe everyone had their place in the world, and they knew just where and with whom they belonged. Surely, they didn’t overthink every conversation they had with a random stranger. Did their brain also function merely on autopilot in public, while the back of your mind was chaos of doubt and fear? Was there anybody else who spent day to day worrying about never finding someone who could deal with the burden of you and your issues? How was somebody else going to love you if you were this sad?

Those people that care about you are the ones you should be honest with, after all. There was no brushing off the How Are You question with a quick “I’m fine”. How could someone deal with the real answer you would give? You didn’t want to pull anybody down with you when you were hurting. So then again, maybe it was for the better your apartment was always empty when you came home. With no one to ask you about your feelings, you couldn’t cause anyone else agony and worry. Your own pain was enough – one person was enough to deal with it.

You shoved your shoes in the corner next to your door. If it wasn’t for your mental state, you would’ve guessed your jacket was a hundred kilos heavy. But even after you had peeled it off, nothing changed. You dragged your body to the bathroom.

You’d be so proud if only you could go one day without crying. And you had almost made it, had it not been for the godforsaken shower water. There was something about seeing the droplets on your skin and on the tiles that caused your tears to come out freely. The noise of the shower made you feel shut off from the rest of the world. Now it was just you and your salty ocean tears. The tears united with the shower water. It was hard to tell which drops on your cheek had originated in your swollen eyes and which had fallen from the shower head. This way, it seemed almost as if there was an invisible force that was wiping over your face, trying to appease your sobs.

But there was nobody. And that was why you only cried harder. If only you had listened to your own words when you tried to cheer yourself up. Then maybe you would feel better when you wrapped your arms around your own body. You were desperate. The notion that someone could hold you like this, one day, should have gifted you at least some form of hope. But no, you knew it wouldn’t happen any time soon. Not with this mindset and your sadness.

You hiccupped helplessly. This was all so tiring. Before you knew it, you sat down on the shower floor under the hot stream. At least there was no one waiting to get into the shower after you. So you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about blocking the bathroom and wasting all the hot water. For a few minutes you remained on the floor, drowning out your cries under the splashing sound. You felt the impulse to scream. Look, I’m here! I’m a person with interests and passions and emotions! Doesn’t anybody see me? I’m sick of only existing! Won’t somebody teach me how to live?

But at most, that would cause you a noise complaint. If only you weren’t so terrible at talking to people. Maybe you could make a friend someday – when your anxiety got better. Like in a trance, you finally switched off the water and grabbed your towel. You were so utterly lost in your thoughts, that everything went by as if you were only watching from the sidelines. You got out of the shower, dried off, put on some body lotion – an attempt at self-care – and got dressed in the most comfortable, baggy clothes you owned.

What on earth would you do tonight? There really were only so many ways you could have fun (or rather distract yourself from feeling down) when you were all by yourself and everything reminded you of how lonely you were. The option of just going to sleep slipped past you. But you weren’t tired enough. You knew you’d lie awake for hours, left alone with your thoughts. And crying yourself to sleep was the last thing you wanted right now.

So you opted for the most mainstream idea: Netflix. You plopped down on the sofa, a steaming hot cup of tea on the small table in front of you. Now you only had one thing left to do. You needed to choose some stupid show and let the problems of tv characters invade your brain and pray they would shove out your own issues. You weren’t even hungry. Although there was a part of you that wished it could have eaten your weight in chocolate, but you knew that had little to do with hunger.

Just as you reached for the remote control, the sound of your doorbell made you jump. I’ll just let it be. They’ll think I’m not home and leave. Those thoughts came right away. It made you curse yourself. You had just cried over feeling alone, but now you’re shutting out some random neighbor who probably just needs some tiny favor from you. Way to go. So, more to prove a point to yourself than to be friendly, you stepped to your door and opened it.

“Hi.” It was your neighbor. Your handsome, kind neighbor, who you always met at the local grocery store. You were so mentally exhausted you didn’t even feel self-conscious about looking the way you did. Although you hoped your eyes had recovered from the redness, at least a little. “Hi,” you greeted him back.

“Look, I really don’t want to be intrusive. And if you want me to leave, I will,” he said. He fumbled with his hands, as if he was nervous about his words. “But I kind of heard you…cry…in the shower. And I know you live alone, and I figured if you’re crying you probably don’t have any company. I guess I just wanted to check whether you’re okay. Do you have someone to talk to?”

With every word your heart only sped up. You felt like a trapped rabbit in a corner and the meaning of his message only sunk in slowly. Yes, of course. I’ll call my friend and talk to them,you wanted to say. But that would have been a massive lie. And you just couldn’t lie to him. Not when he stood there, in his fuzzy sweater and fresh-out-the-shower damp hair, with eyes so worried and attentive. You weren’t sure if it was from how touched you were by his concern for you, or if it was your sadness catching up to you again. Before you could swallow your tears, your eyes filled to the brim and your vision turned blurry.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, not sure what for. Hurriedly, you used your sweater paw to wipe your leaking eyes. You didn’t want him to feel bad for you, but now you had achieved just that and more. Your embarrassment set in and you finally came out with the truth. “I don’t have anyone to talk to.”

“No need to be sorry. It’s alright. We all have those days, don’t we? I just want you to know that you’re not alone. And I have nothing to do…so if you need someone to talk to, or even just to keep you company…I can stay with you for a bit…or you can come over to mine. I just don’t want you to feel alone. But if you would prefer to be by yourself, that’s okay. People deal with things differently.”

You were so baffled that your ability to speak completely fell through. The idea of someone, an almost-stranger, going so out of their way to make sure you were okay blew you away. He knew nothing about you. But here he was, taking a chance on you, nonetheless. Only then you realized you probably looked like a fool, staring at him but failing to answer. Quickly, you prompted yourself to open your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.

“What were you doing just now?” he asked. “Any plans for the evening?”

“I was going to watch a movie, I guess,” you said. “And I think some company would be very nice.”

He smiled at you like was your childhood best friend and you had just reconnected after years of being apart. That’s why it felt the more natural to let him enter your apartment. You got into small talk about what it was like living in the building and how his apartment had a mirrored structure to yours. The simplest conversation took your mind off your sorrow right away. You felt like thanking him would be a little dramatic after he had barely settled on your sofa, so you kept it to yourself. Either way, the small smile on your face felt like warm, soothing sunlight on your skin after eight consecutive days of rain.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” he asked. You thought for a moment.

“No, I think I’d rather just distract myself,” you said. Even though you were grateful for having him here, you feared if you spilled your guts to him you would only scare him away.

“Alright,” he said without judgement. “What film were you planning on watching?”

And so you started your movie. There was a respectful distance between you on the sofa. But his simple presence next to you was more than you could have asked for tonight. He was like a heater, providing safety and comfort in the coldest winter. Hearing someone else chuckle at the jokes in the movie along with you was magnificent. His laughter sounded like a rainbow. It seeped into your body and your soul straightened up and bloomed like a parched flower being watered after all this loneliness.

But even under all the light, your problems were still here, waiting to nag at you. You knew they would consume you when he returned to his own apartment later. They would laugh at you for trying to socialize but staying closed off as always. Just because someone saw you didn’t mean they understood you and who you are. And how was one supposed to make human connections if they treated their thoughts like strictly confidential information in front of everybody? No, you had to tell him.Impulsively, you pressed the stop-button on the remote. He shot you a questioning gaze.

“I- I think maybe I do want to talk about something,” you confessed.

“You can tell me anything. I promise it’ll be safe with me. Let out whatever bothers you,” he said. His lovely, warm eyes were inviting like a haven for you. So you just started to talk. All your frustrations and reasons for anxiety were exiting your lips, floating all around you in the room. Airing out your weary brain finally, after holding everything in for weeks, was uncaging and nothing had felt this good in so long. Although your sadness wasn’t something that could be fixed by doing a task, the more thoughts and worries you explained to him, the easier it became. It wasn’t long before you felt your tears well up once more.

“It’s okay,” he said with his hand on your shoulder. This time, you didn’t try so hard to blink them away. Where there were emotions, there were tears, and he was right. It was fine to let them out. Through sniffles you finished telling him your issues.

“Is this okay?” he asked, gently putting his arm around your shoulder to hold your shaking figure. You hummed and nodded in agreement. His warmth was like a blanket to shelter you from the anxiety, if even just for a short while.

“I don’t expect you to know a solution,” you said. “I need to wait for it to get better. It’ll get better, eventually.”

“You’re right. It will all resolve,” he said. “I’m sorry things are so difficult. But you’re not alone, okay?”

You nodded again.

“Time will heal, I promise,” he said. “And until then, you have to hold on and keep going. The world’s a little cruel sometimes, when it shuts out the ones who struggle and don’t do as well as others. But you’re as much of a part of it as any other human on the street. And you’re just as important as them. You weren’t born to be successful or to achieve things. You’re here to live and be happy. So promise me to take care of yourself, and be gentle to yourself. Because you’re the only person that will be with yourself every second until the end. Please don’t be hard on yourself and have patience for good things to come around. And if it all feels like it’s too much for you, don’t feel guilty about reaching out for help. You can always ring my doorbell if you need something.”

“Thank you so much,” you cried. Your cheek rested on his shoulder and you sat in silence for a while. It was unbelievable which wonders such a small conversation between two people could do. Your heart felt lighter and the thoughts were no longer racing through your head. Peace was settling in, and you welcomed it more than ever.

“Now that I’ve told you about me, what kind of person are you?” you asked through tears. He chuckled a little. All you knew until now was that he had a heart of gold. Which, to be fair, meant your impression of him was off to a pretty good start already. Your thoughts were cautious as you wondered…Maybe he could be my friend.

You abandoned the movie. Instead, you spent all evening chatting about whatever came to your mind. You discussed childhood dreams, favorite dishes, your best playlists down to the cutes dog breeds you had ever seen. It felt great, getting to know somebody. And your suspicions came true. His big heart wasn’t the only thing admirable about him. He was funny and knew just what to say when you felt awkward or shy. When you slipped into bed that night, you did so with a smile on your face. You had always told yourself that you weren’t alone. But sometimes, the most optimistic person needed a small reminder coming from somebody else. Here was yours.

[divinefireangel]

You are my Honey and my Forever Moon

SF9 Inseong x Wife! Reader Fluffy Smut.

ADORABABY ADORABABY ADORABABY ADORABABY ADORABABY ADORABABY

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: I finally got to finishing this request!! 🥳 Not gonna lie I kinda like this one lol. I have a free day tomorrow so let's hope I post tomorrow as well����

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 18+ ages and female readers (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). Tbh all can read it. Soft sex. Unprotected sex (just don't do this unless you want kids). Probably slow burn I'm not sure. Sexy but soft Inseong 😂. Lmk if I need to add more! Italics is flashback.

Requested: YES. By our fav @inseongsfoxybae

Hey, babe Sush 🥰🥰🥰 Can I request something?

Would you mind writing a honeymoon scenario with Seongie? Smuty and with a lot of softness at the same time 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh babe I hope you like it and that this makes your day a lil better 💞❣

1.8k Words

Staring down at your left ring finger, you traced the new golden band that your finger adorned. Smiling, you remember the moment that changed your life forever. Finally, you were each other's happily ever after. How did you get so lucky to have Kim Inseong fall in love with you, you'll never know. But what you do know, is that there is no one in the world whom you can love as much as him.

You remember the look he gave you just before you got wedded, standing opposite you holding your hands in his, that always fit together like a puzzle, the moment in which you knew, there is no one who will love you as much as him. Seeing his love filled expression, reminded you of every single time he looked at you like that. The first time he saw you on your first date, the first time he saw you all glamed up, the first time he saw your natural perfections, the first time he saw you naked, the first time he kissed you, the first time he smiled at you, the first time he smiled because of you, the first time you made him laugh, the first time he saw you laugh, the first time he saw you dance your little happy dance because you got your favourite food, the first time you told him you loved him, the first time you held him when he cried, the first time you let him sleep on top of you after a long day and the first time he realized you were the one he was looking for his entire life.

And since all those firsts, he's looked at you the same way. Because he doesn't know how else to look at you. You, his soulmate, his eternal love, his forever and forevermore.

Gathering the crowd's attention, the officiate began the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved, we are present here, to experience the blessed union of Ms. Y/N L/N and Mr. Kim Inseong. As I start, I have a passage to read, written by me, about falling in love.

When you hear the word falling, it's generally assumed to be a neutral word. No one prefers to fall willingly. But falling in love, is one of the purest ways to use the word falling. Not a single person is scared of falling like this. Falling from a height of course is scary for most." The crowd laughs at this remark. Smiling, the officiate continued.

"Well now really when we go back then to falling in love. And say it's crazy. We don't say rising into love. The moment you enter any kind of human undertaking relationship, you've given yourself up. But this is the most powerful thing that can be done. Surrender, you see. And love, is an act of surrender to another person. I give myself to you.

These two young people standing here, in front of each other, have surrendered themselves to one another, creating a strong bond, and I pray, that it only gets stronger with time." Staring into each other's teary yet love filled eyes, Y/N and Inseong slipped on a band on their ring fingers to indicate their eternal love.

"What are you thinking about my love? " Handing you a glass of champagne, your husband asked you.

"Just..... Us. "

"Us? " He questions chuckling, sitting next to you on the couch in your hotel room, which is rented for your honeymoon.

Humming a yes, you lean in to kiss him. Meeting you halfway, Inseong attached your lips together, as a hand stroked your hair.

"Don't you want to change into your nightwear? " Tilting your head innocently, you looked at your husband in curiosity.

"I kinda have other plans." He said sheepishly grinning at your confused demeanour. Placing the two identical glasses on a table nearby, Inseong grabs your face gently with both his hands, connecting your lips again.

Carefully he moves his hands to your hair, trying to find for things that may hurt you when you laid down on the bed. Removing the U pins from your hairbun, he slowly lets your hair down. Breaking the kiss completely, staring at your with a soft smile, warming your heart, he moves to remove your earrings and other jewelry.

Chewing in anticipation on your bottom lip, you lift your fingers to unbutton the buttons of his dress shirt. This action isn't something foreign to either of you, having done this multiple times before in the past. But this time, today, right now, is just more softer, more intimate.

By the time you finish his dress shirt, he's already pulled down the zipper of your dress.

Admiring you again, he moves his hand to the side of your face, slowly pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

Moving the same hand to the back of your head, he tilts your head up, engulfing your lips again in a needy kiss. A kiss of this type from him never fails to make you lose balance, lose your sense of presence of mind and makes you aroused enough to close your eyes as a your lower abdomen starts heating up for attention.

Breathing into each other, you stand up taking his hand and pull him towards the bed, stopping at its foot. Slowly you slide off him shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall on the floor. Looking up at him through your lashes, you bite your lower lip, as you feel yourself getting wetter by the minute. How can you not be wet when you have such a sexy husband? Smirking a little, Inseong traces your skin from your neck to your shoulders to your back, gliding your dress down near his shirt. Taking your delicate hands in his, he gazes down your body, the tent forming in his pants approving your pretty lingerie. How did he get so lucky to have found you. You goddess of a being, so in love with him, a mere man who worships you more than anything.

Placing your hands around his neck, he leans down to kiss your lush lips, as his hands go down your body, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra, and settling on your waist for a moment, before going down to reach the back of your thighs. Lifting you up without breaking the kiss, Inseong kneels on the bed as your legs wrap around him in instinct. Laying you down lovingly on the bed, your husband looks into your eyes, with that sweet look of his. For him although, he feels like he is looking at you for the first time ever, starting from your forehead to the distance between your eyebrows, to your cute nose and to your parted lips, waiting to be kissed again.

Swallowing in the sight below, his lips find themselves at the base of your jaw. Sucking there lightly, Inseong rolls his hips such that his clothed length rubs against your core. Even with so many layers you could feel the outline of his dick. Kissing down till your neck and collarbone, he continues to grind into you, groaning when he feels your nails scratch his back.

Gasping at a sudden forceful thrust, you wrap your legs tighter around his waist. Detaching his lips from your body, he sits on his knees, looking down at your, enjoying the view of you in your loving needy state. Making eye contact, he unbuckles his belt removing it sexily, followed by his pants and boxers. Placing his hands on your bent knees, he moves his torso up as his hands glide freely from your knees through the top of your thighs, coming to a still on your hips.

Leaning down, Inseong kisses your lips again, as his fingertips trace the upper elastic of your panties. Grabbing ahold of them, he peels your panties down your legs and throws it to the side. One of his hands comes next to your head to support himself up as he stays close to you, kissing till you run out of air in your lungs, while the other takes liberty to part your folds.

Sighing into your mouth, he spreads your wetness from your entrance to your clit, giving it a few strokes to stimulate you more. Moaning into the kiss, you silently beg for more, wanting more, more of him in you, taking you to paradise.

Removing his fingers from your folds, he breaks the kiss just to rile you up more by sucking them as his eyes never left yours. Biting your lip you look at him with pleading eyes. Dropping his cockiness at your cuteness, he slowly guides the head of his cock to your entrance, nudging it in little by little, letting you get used to his size. Pecking your forehead repeatedly Inseong bottoms out into you. Stilling for a moment, he takes your hand in his free hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles.

Melting at this sweet gesture, you intertwine your fingers together, as your eyes close overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock starting to move back and forth, in and out of you slowly. Petting your hair with the hand that's next to your head, Inseong joins your lips again, but only for a small kiss. He then proceeds to kiss your cheeks, your nose, your eyebrows, your eyelids, your chin, your jaw, your forehead and back to your lips, all while rutting his pelvis against yours in a loving pace.

This isn't the first time he's made love to you. He's done that multiple times and more. But now, you are his wife and he wants nothing but to take care of you and your burdens and to keep you happy. He wants to spoil you in every way possible. He wants you fulfilled to the maximum extent, and he will do anything for you and your future together to be as perfect as possible.

Moaning his name, when you feel yourself coming closer to the edge, you clench your walls around him. Shuddering in response, he increases his pace to help you both have a blissful orgasm. Nuzzling his nose against yours, he squeezes your intertwined fingers looking back up into your eyes, wordlessly conveying that he is close. So so close to you.

"I love you" He whispers roughly, feeling his release approaching.

"I love you too" You gasp as you tighten your legs around him, clenching your walls as you come undone below your lover. Repeating your name as if it's the only word he knows, Inseong comes down slowly from his high, falling on top of you as slowly as he can.

Pressing your foreheads together, you catch your breath, hugging each other. Setting his head in between your shoulder and neck, Inseong starts to feel drowsy. How cute, you think fondly as you wrap your arms securely around you lover, your husband, playing with his hair as he drifts to sleep with you in his arms, and you following him soon after.

[depressing-debbie]

Hey, I was wondering if I could get fluff alphabet headcanons for Erwin please?

Of course!! 

Look at me! Posting twice in one day!! If anyone has any requests lmk bc I actually have motivation I guess!

Fluff Alphabet: Erwin

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

He’s a big fan of both the traditional romantic dates, as well as more creative, personal dates. I think he’d want to go for a nice walk, tour a museum, or maybe go to the library/bookstore, or for a special occasion, a really fancy dinner with candles and everything.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

In terms of a physical feature, he would probably first notice his s/o’s eyes because he makes intense eye contact, and because he thinks you can tell a lot about a person from their eyes. But in general, he admires their spirit, and he thinks they’re absolutely stunning when they’re passionate about something, or when they’re focusing hard.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He’s amazing at comforting his s/o, largely because he just knows them so well. He would be able to read what they’re feeling and know when they’re upset, first of all. He would probably put on their favorite movie or music, grab a giant blanket, and sit with them. If they want to talk, he has really insightful advice. If not, he’s content to just wrap his arms around them and physically comfort them. (which always works, by the way, because just try to name a single person who wouldn’t feel better after a hug from Erwin)

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

This man absolutely pictures the most simple, “boring” future with a nice house and a family, with family vacations and yardwork on Sundays. The idea of stability and calmness appeals to him so strongly, and even though he’d be content with just about any future that his s/o is involved in, that’s his dream.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

They’re equal when it comes down to anything important, but I think he’d lean towards being the more dominant person in the relationship. He’s a traditional guy, and unless it bothered his s/o at all, I think it’d make him happy to be the one to pay for dinner or make date night plans, that sort of thing. But again, they’re equal everywhere it actually matters.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Fights don’t happen often, but they can be a little bit intense when they do. If they’re arguing about something small, he’s immediately looking for some kind of easy compromise, which he’s excellent at. They only really fight over things that are especially serious. He’s too smart for his own good and he’s got impressive arguing skills, but he’s never setting out to hurt his s/o, just explain his perspective. Arguments can be heated, but they never last long, and again, they’re not common.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

I’m not the first person to point out that Erwin has a lot of self doubt, and his reputation has sort of brainwashed him into believing that he’s not deserving of good things. Because of that, their relationship surprises him all the time, and every day, he expresses to his s/o how much he appreciates them.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He’s completely honest and open with his s/o. There’s no reason for him to lie, he wouldn’t want to hide anything from them. And on the off chance he screws something up, he would rather work through it with them beside him then hide and deal with it on his own. 

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Like I said, he has big issues with his image and self worth. His s/o and their relationship are slowly helping him to recognize that he does deserve to be happy, and they help him to become more optimistic (whether they realize it or not). On the other hand, I think he would be committed to helping his s/o recognize their own worth and importance in return.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He’s not a jealous person in general, although he does get a bit protective. The only time he would interfere is if he can tell his s/o is uncomfortable or annoyed, in which case he’s more than willing to step in and scare the person off. But again, that’s more out of concern for his s/o than actual jealousy.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Just look at that man and tell me you don’t think he was a good kisser. Probably a bit more reserved, especially for their first kiss, but still surprisingly passionate? Like he’s trying to physically portray how much he cares about them, if that makes sense. 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He definitely thought about it for a little while before hand, not because he was nervous or unsure, but because he wanted to make sure he said it in a meaningful way. He definitely set up a special little date, like a picnic or a dinner, and even prepared a short little romantic speech, and it was very sweet. 

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He would LOVE to get married. If that’s not what his s/o wants, that’s perfectly fine, and he’d be happy to find a different way to express their commitment. But marriage sort of feeds into his idea of that perfect, stable future, and besides, he would jump on the opportunity to show his s/o how much he appreciates and cares about them. He’d come up with the most romantic, slightly elaborate proposal, probably not something public, but very grand. And of course, not much would change once they were married, but he would relish in that perceived sense of routine and stability.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Again, being the traditional guy he is, he’s big on traditional, slightly old fashioned nicknames. Mainly, it would be “angel”, but also “darling” or “love” (it’s very sweet).

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He’s pretty reserved about his feelings publicly, so it wouldn’t be obvious to outside people. People close to him might notice that he becomes a bit more optimistic and laughs a bit louder. With his s/o, however, he’s totally transparent, and he tells them over and over how much he loves them. Not that he has to, of course, because his body language makes it pretty obvious to them as well.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Definitely not big on PDA. He’s upfront about their relationship as long as his s/o agrees, it’s not something that he would want to hide. He’s fine holding their hand in public or wrapping an arm around them, but not really anything more obvious.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship.

He’s a surprisingly good dancer? Like, ballroom dancing. When one of them has had a stressful day, they put on old music and slow dance in the kitchen (it’s so romantic).

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s so romantic!! If you haven’t already figured it out, I really think he would like some of the traditional cliche romantic gestures, like roses or a candlelit dinner. But he’s also really creative, and he’d plan gestures that relate to his s/o’s interests and such. 

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He absolutely supports his s/o in anything they do, and he believes in them probably more than anyone else. He knows they will succeed in anything they put their mind to, and he takes it upon himself to offer help and support, doing whatever he can to help them reach their goals. It makes him actually really happy to see them setting big goals because it shows that they are choosing to believe in themselves, and because he loves seeing that they are passionate.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He’s more a routine kind of person, he likes the stability and comfort in some level of repetition. With that being said, he’s also definitely open to being adventurous, so like trying new restaurants or traveling together, so it would probably be a mix of both.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He’s incredibly understanding, he just knows his s/o so well. Erwin has very strong observational skills, and he learns pretty quickly how to read their emotions. He does sometimes have trouble relating to their issues, but he will always sympathize and comfort them, even if he can’t understand it. 

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His relationship is really important to him. Obviously, he’s pretty work oriented, so there genuinely might be some issues there if the two start to clash. But he also actively prevents that from happening, making time for both because he cares about his s/o SO much.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He really likes watching documentaries with his s/o. Learning about something new and interesting, and being able to share that experience between the two of them, makes him happy. And when he gets really into the topic, his s/o can see the excitement on his face, which is really cute.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He comes across a bit cold in general, but he’s actually very affectionate with his s/o. Especially when he’s stressed or upset, he just wants to curl up with them and forget about outside pressures. I also very specifically think that giving his s/o a quick little kiss would be part of his morning routine before they part for the day.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He misses them when they’re gone for a while, but he just throws himself into his work until they’re back, which he doesn’t mind at all. He’s busy, and his s/o probably is as well, so it’s unfortunately not unusual for them to go a little while without seeing each other. They always make up for it with an extra special date night afterwards, though.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’s a strategist at heart, so of course he’d be willing to put in the effort and come up with ideas on how to keep their relationship strong. I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes up with literal written plans when it seems like they’re a little out of whack.

[hologramband]

One Day p1

Alive!Luke x Fem!Reader Modern AU Word Count: 2.6k A/n: hehehe here’s the first part! I have it mostly planned out, there should be 3-4 parts! Lmk what you think! Summary: A shy girl is used to floating under the radar, keeping to herself most of the time, all was well until an opportunity fell into her lap, but what will these new people bring with them?

You were really good at staying right under everyone's radar at Los Feliz. You knew everyone, everyone knew you, but you didn’t have anything more than just a surface relationship with your classmates. You didn’t mind that, it was harder to get hurt this way. You got accepted to the Performing Arts High School with your ability to dance, but have always found your real talent lies within your visual art. Whether you were using paints, pencils, or a pen, you loved the way that your hand flew over the paper and created an image that represented your many different emotions.

In a way it made sense how you loved both dance and drawing, both sharing the flowing of movements to express things that words cannot. It was easier for you to express your emotions and thoughts in these mediums since social connection was hard for you. You had tried it once, really connecting with a person, but it ended up coming back and hurting you, causing you to shut down, so you weren't in a rush to try again any time soon. You floated down the hallways with ease, only having to stop at your locker to grab the remaining textbooks you need for the next few classes. While you were stopped you heard your name called from across the hallway, looking up to see Julie raising her hand in a small wave. “Hey, (y/n)! I like your top!” She came to a stop by your locker smiling. “Thanks! It was my moms, she just found this box of old clothes from when she was in school, this one just really stuck out to me.” You smiled down at yourself and looked back up at the girl to see three boys approaching. You felt heat subtly rise to your cheeks and you tried to focus your eyes on Julie. “Hey Jules, you ready to go to class?” Luke spoke as soon as they reached her side, sending you a nod of acknowledgement when he noticed you standing in front of them. Alex and Reggie both raised their hands with small waves in greeting to you. You smiled in return and turned back to close your locker, swinging your backpack on in the process. “Well, I gotta get to class too, see ya around.” You smiled back at the group and heard Julie call after you. “See you in Art!” You turned slightly and waved in return. Julie and you were pretty decent friends, you talked to her more than anyone else at the school, she had a good balance of how to get to know you without pushing you. You had met the boys a few times in passing, much like the previous occurrence, them not really speaking much more than a ‘hello’ here and there. There was something about Luke though, he never failed to send a storm of butterflies loose in your stomach. He probably didn’t even remember your name, but you could remember all the details of his face, not in a weird way, just in an artistic way, ya know? He had such a coolness about him, like he could totally embarrass himself but brush it off like it was nothing, like he meant to do it even. You thought you were getting better with your anxiety around people, but as soon as that boy was in front of you, it seemed as if your brain forgot how to function. You shook the boy from your thoughts as you continued through your day, classes went by like they typically do, all your general classes like math and english were in the first half of the day, the second half being taken by your dance class and then art. It was simple to say that you much preferred the second half of classes. In dance you went about as normal, running through a few routines and while wrapping up your teacher mentioned something about a new project that would be announced tomorrow. After changing you made your way to your final class where Julie had already arrived and claimed a table for the two of you. “Hi!” she smiled up at you. “Hi! How were your classes today?” You replied, starting a conversation that you hoped would carry throughout the class. You really did like talking with Julie, she was so sweet and really made you feel like she wanted to get to know you. The first day of class she noticed you were sitting alone and she took this as an opportunity to introduce herself, commenting on the particular band tee you had on, being able to strike up a conversation instantly. You admired her for this, the confidence she had when walking in a room was just astounding to you. The two of you went about the class in a way that you similarly would, talking about this and that while sketching away in your respective books, her only pausing to write ideas in her song notebook when an idea would hit. The class you were in didn’t have many actual assignments, just that you needed around 3 small pieces turned in periodically and one larger one for your final at the end of the semester, it made it an easy free flowing environment where there wasn’t too much pressure to stress on any one thing. Before you knew it the ding of the bell was going off overhead and you and Julie started packing up your things, she quickened her pace when she saw the boys waiting at the door for her. “You guys have practice today?” You giggled at her rushed movements. “Yeah,” she laughed as she zipped her bag closed, “Luke and I just finished up a new song too so I’m really excited to get back to the garage to figure out the music behind it.” She smiled up at you and you returned the affection. “Well don’t let me hold you up! Hope it all goes well! See you tomorrow!” You waved to the girl as she ran to the door, only pausing to throw a wave back at you. You laughed and shook your head at the girls' antics and went about your day as usual, starting your walk back home, you didn’t live too far and enjoyed the fresh air and time to recollect after the school day. After getting home you grabbed a quick snack and retreated to your room to finish a sketch that you had been working on in class today. Digging through your bag your heart rate increased when you pulled the red covered book to see the top covered in multiple stickers, this wasn’t your book, it was Julies song book, meaning she was currently in possession of your sketchbook. She must have grabbed yours on mistake when she was packing up quickly. You lightly sighed as you pulled out your phone to text her about the accidental switch-up. She replied instantly just realizing the mistake herself, then invited you over to switch them back and possibly hear some of the songs they were working on, looking for an outsider's opinion. You hesitated in saying yes, did you really need your book back that bad? Sighing, you sent back an okay and asked for an address, as nervous as you were to hang around the guys, more specifically Luke, you remembered how excited Julie was to go over the new song, the one that was probably sitting in the book you were holding in your hands. You threw on a light jacket and grabbed your backpack, for reasons unexplainable to you it just always just felt safer to walk around with a backpack on, and you were on your way to Julies. You could feel your nerves rising with each step you took towards her house, by the time you stood at the end of her driveway you felt like your heart was in your throat. “Calm down, (y/n), it’s just a little hangout to get your book back and hear a few songs, no biggie, nothing to fret about at all.” you whispered to yourself, taking one last deep breath before continuing your walk up her driveway. You had just come into view from the garage when you heard Julie calling out your name. “(Y/n)! How was your walk?” Julie ran out to meet you, now walking beside you into the garage. “It was good! You actually live closer to me than I thought, it was only like a 15 minute walk,” you smiled at her and you continued the small talk until you looked up and met eyes with the brunette guitarist. “(Y/n), these are the guys, Alex, Reggie and Luke,” she introduced them to you and you raised your hand in a wave. “Yeah, i’ve seen you guys perform before, you’re all really good!” you smiled and met each of their gazes. “Thanks! And that was all our old stuff, just wait until you hear what we have coming, um..” Luke stuttered realizing he didn’t know your name. You went to say it but Alex beat you to it. “(Y/n) you idiot,” he hit the back of Luke's head, while rolling his eyes. A blush rose to Luke’s face and he laughed it off. “I-I knew that, I-I just-” “You’re at the school for dance right?” Alex spoke again, interrupting and trying to take the attention off of the stuttering Luke. You smiled and nodded. “Yeah! I’m on a dance scholarship, so that's my main focus but my second is visual art, which reminds me,” You take your backpack off and pull out Julies song book, “here’s this!” She smiles and takes it from you. “Ugh thanks so much, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost this, Reggie can you grab her sketchbook? It’s on the piano!” Julie opened her book and smiled looking at the page. “Oh wow,” you heard Reggie mutter causing everyone to turn to him, “(y/n) this stuff is like, really good.” You blushed and looked down at your feet, you’ve never been good at accepting compliments. “Dude, boundaries!” Julie muttered reaching for the book, but Luke got to it first, taking his own turn looking through the pages. Your heart jumped when he started smiling at the pages he was flipping through, you didn’t have anything in there that you kept hidden, it was just that no one had ever gone through your work before. “You have so many different styles, this one is like a cartoon, but then the next one is like hyper realistic.” Luke looks up to make eye contact and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks. Alex took the second of him being distracted to pull the book away from him and hand it back to you. “I’m sorry for them, they still haven’t figured out what it means to respect someone's privacy.” He narrowed his eyes at his two bandmates. “You know,” you opened the book in your hands to search for a particular page, “I actually have something of each of you individually. I sketched them out the night after I saw one of your guys’ gigs.” You scrunch your face in concentration, you feel everyone rush to stand behind you when you finally find it. You look around at them to take in their reactions, their eyes were all glued to the papers you were displaying in front of you, Reggies mouth falling open. “Oh! Is this why you asked for the pictures my dad took of that night?” Julie looked up at you. “Yeah, I wanted to be able to add the details of everyone's chosen instruments and get some added information on where the highlights were from the lights,” you looked at each of their faces again and made a rash decision to gently tear the pages from your book, handing them to each respective person. Each person held them gently in their hands, then looked up to you in amazement. You just shrugged your shoulders in response, not knowing what else to say. “Well,” you looked out the window and saw the setting sun, “I better start my walk back to my house, it’s getting dark and I wanna get back before that happens. Enjoy the pictures guys!” You smile and turn to walk away, all the band still shocked to silence. “She’s never torn a page from her book before,” you hear Julie tell the boys as you walk further down the driveway, smiling to yourself. It was true, you never pull pages from your sketchbook, not this one at least, it was the better quality of all the other ones you had. You typically just used the less expensive books for class, you go through all the pages so quickly you didn’t want to waste the one’s in your higher quality notebook for the rough sketches, but the pages that you drew the band on were in the higher quality notebook, you had taken the time to really get them right, and they turned out fantastic. Your mother had always told you to spread joy where you can, and after seeing all their faces you knew that it was only right to let them have the pages that they were looking at. You arrived home and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, there might be something there with them, an opportunity to make new friends, to open up. This idea makes you both nervous and excited, you let these thoughts and ideas later lull you to sleep. --- The next day at school you were walking to your locker when Julie caught your eye, she was waiting in her phone by your locker door. You would usually see her in passing in the mornings, but this is new. “Hey Julie, what’s up?” You greet the curly haired girl at your locker. “Hey (y/n)! Not much really, just watched to catch you this morning and run an idea past you…” She smiles and looks around her before returning her gaze back to you. “Okay? Is everything alright? You seem nervous,” you giggled at her antics and went back to putting the combination into your locker. “Yeah, yeah, I just know you take a while to open up and get close with new people, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything you aren’t ready for, but the boys and I were wondering if-” She gets cut off by a yell from down the hallway. “JULIE! HAVE YOU ASKED HER YET?” You turn to see all three boys running towards you, Julie facepalming at Reggies yell. “Geez Reg, she literally just got here. There's no need to yell,” Julie rolls her eyes at them and looks back to you. “Anyways, we were wondering if you wanted to make more designs and stuff for the band, like for posters and maybe album art one day.” She smiles at you after finishing. “You-you want me to… really?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Yeah! We all really like what you did with those portraits, and you’re pretty chill letting us keep them and all, we want you to be a part of our band, even if it isn’t you on stage with us, you’ll keep things looking cool.” Luke says as he leans against the lockers beside you. “Plus, then you’ll be able to hang out with us more!” Reggie pipes in. They all look at each other then back at you. “So,” Alex smiles at you, “What do ya think?” A million thoughts fly through your mind at once, they really want you to hang out with them more? They liked what you did? You looked at them all, looking back at you, and smiled. “I’d love to.”

tag list ✨

@gia-kerks​ @fangirlangioma​

[gyroist]

GYROIST’S RULES.

↺ please read everything before following / interacting and requesting. 

i’m very lax with these rules and they may change from time to time, be sure to read this post every once in a while to make sure. i only ask you respect my boundaries n such, thanks.

GENERAL RULES.

↺ i will mostly use this blog for NSF/W so i’m asking that anyone under the age of eighteen does not interact. i don’t particularly care for ageless blogs but i would prefer it if you had your age displayed somewhere. if you follow me and i see you’re under 18, i’ll only soft block you as a warning first. then, if i see you again it’ll be a hard block; sorry.​

↺ don’t bring any discourse onto this blog, i don’t age up characters and i don’t particularly care for ship discourse. i don’t like ships deemed problematic but i also don’t care if you or anyone else does. none of my concern, really. if you see a ship you don’t like, don’t tell me about it cause i literally do not care lol. if it isn’t harmful in anyway, leave it be.

↺ if you see me missing any tw/cws or i tags i missed, please lmk! i don’t always catch these things, sorry. 

↺ im generally very friendly, feel free to talk to me whenever. 

REQUEST RULES.

↺ only writing for steel ball run right now!

↺ do not send a request if my requests are closed, it’ll be ignored.

↺ please PLEASE specify if you want gender neutral , afab or amab reader. i write for them all! (though, for all of them i’ll use they/them) 

↺ HEADCANONS -> 3 characters max. SCENARIOS -> 2 characters max

↺ request box closes at 8.

↺ i only update on the weekends, if i miss a weekend wait till the next one. i do not post every single weekend ; i’ll try but it’s not guaranteed. 

↺ please refer to the format list below, it’ll tell you all the different formats that i do and how much words it’ll contain.

headcanon - varies , usually contains a drabble though. drabble - 100-250 words.

scenario - 300 - 650 words.

one-shot - 850 - 1,000+ words. 

KINK LIST. 

will do and won’t do’s.

WILL DO.

YANDERE.

DADDY KINK.

MOMMY KINK . FEMDOM

SPIT.

CNC.

CORRUPTION.

FACESITTING.

BREEDING.

FORCED FEMINIZATION.

ROLEPLAY.

DACRYPHILIA.

SOMNOPHILIA.

BLOOD KINK.

KNIFE PLAY.

SIZE KINK.

DUMBIFICATION.

DUBCON.

PEGGING

LACTATION

THREESOMES + POLY

WON’T DO.

noncon

incest / stepcest / pseudo incest

age play

pregnancy.

anything w/ scat or piss lol.

if there’s something on the list that you’d like or are unsure of, just ask!

back to main navi.