#Calmer side of the ray

[comesatimecomesashadow]

white flag *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ uchiha madara x wife reader

cw *ೃ༄ reader is married to him + they have children together, angst (a bit), pining, mentions of blood.

fic type *ೃ༄ one-shot, part ii to 'le ciel'.

summary *ೃ༄ a continuation of the story of how your relationship with him came to be.

note *ೃ༄ my writing skills are rusty (its been a while) but this is a christmas special since some of you requested a part two.

masterlist *ೃ༄

   “My dream.. Is for you to be at peace.”  

   The sun began to set, it bathed the two of you in its soft golden rays as it hid behind the mountains. The fluff of the clouds graced the skies as the wind swept around Madara and you, as if to wrap you up together. Madara always looked calmer when he was with you. 

   Then again, he supposed it was because he had always been comfortable with you, ever since the two of you were barely fledgelings in the forest. 

   “For me to be at peace?” Madara looked away from you and to the thriving village being built before him.. And you. His eyes searched for something but you weren’t quite sure what. 

   “You’re always fighting, even now that the village is being built — You’re still fighting.” you noted. He glanced at you, who were at his side. He remembered his last altercation with your brother, how you sat at his side ready to heal him once your brother called for it. You were always so considerate of him, it was a quality he used to deem a weakness back when he viewed your clan as his enemy. Now that the two of your clans stood on the same side.. He quite liked that about you. 

   “Is that so? What makes you say that?” Madara inquired, leaning back on his palms while he sat beside you on the cliff. Of course, he knew he had been dealing with a lot due to the Uchiha growing more distant from him despite him being their clan’s leader. He and his clan had different views and he wasn’t quite sure how to take it. 

   And as if to shed a light on the problems he kept to himself, you spoke again. “I’ve heard things among the Uchiha..”  

   He turned to you, his expression placid. Madara sighed, “So you know they do not trust me.” 

   “I know that you’re doing what you think is best for the clan..” Your voice was one of understanding. There was a softness to it that Madara wasn’t used to. He wasn’t a man of many words and he hated when people hesitated to say what they wanted. He was more accustomed to the yelling and the fighting — maybe that’s why he felt he was incompatible with the peace that had settled between the Uchiha and the Senju. “But the times are changing- Our people are changing. It's hard to adjust after centuries of fighting, but I know that you have the strength to adapt.” 

   He gazed up at you as you stood from your sitting position, you looked determined from the way your sights were set on the village below. Then, you looked down to him, who was still sitting down. “I won’t let your efforts go to waste. So.. you can’t let them either.” 

   “Are you asking me or is that an order?” He stood up and smirked, he spoke with a playful edge to his question. 

   You smiled up at him, “In my life, I have never asked for anything. Not once. So, I trust that you’ll take into consideration what I am asking of you.” His black eyes met yours and for the first time in years, you saw a glimmer of warmth in them. He scoffed and walked past you. Your eyes lingered on him as you watched him walk away, only to stop for a moment. 

   “..I’ll consider it.” 

—

   After that conversation on the cliffside with Madara, your brothers started the talk on politics. Hashirama wanted Madara to be named Hokage over the village, but with his image and his past, Tobirama was opposed to it.Things were busier than ever following the end of the war and it stressed you out, sure, but you weren’t going to let Tobirama run the Uchiha name through the mud, not when the both of your clans had made the decision to come together and be at peace. 

   “It’s not a wise decision to outright make him Hokage just because you want to, brother.” Tobirama sat on the table and looked over some documents. “The village people don’t trust him. I don’t trust him.” 

   Your arms were crossed. You weren’t pleased with the way Tobirama was talking about them — or him. You never were. ‘There’s always room for improvement. We can’t just assume he’s a danger based on the fact that you don’t trust him, brother.” You weren’t for nor against Madara becoming Konhagakure’s leader. If he had the leadership skills and was able to handle the job, you didn’t mind it one way or the other. 

   Tobirama sighed, “I’m just trying to say that it would be a better idea to let the people choose.” 

   Standing up, you decided that that was the best course of action. “It would, That way it’s fair to everyone. If that’s all, I’ll be taking my leave.” Hashirama nodded and bid you goodnight while Tobirama stayed behind with your older brother. Before you left, you turned to smile at them. “-and don’t stay here too late. If we’re trying to establish a government, we need to be well-rested.” 

   Hashirama chuckled, “We will. There’s no need to worry.” So with one last glance, you walked out of the office and headed out. 

   You looked around the streets and saw the dim light of shops being built still and a few campsites around the area. It was a work in progress, sure. But it was yours. It was Hashirama’s. It was Madara’s. For the future of the Uchiha, the Senju, the clans that had joined you and the other clans to come. As you walked around, you picked up the scent of freshly cut wood, water and.. Noodles? As you turned the corner, the smell of noodles and broth led you to a small restaurant where some of the other business began to open up. 

   The kana on the curtains read : ‘Ichiraku’ and you discerned that the aroma was coming from there. So without a moment's hesitation, you parted the curtains and looked around the quaint eatery. The cushioning on the stool was comfortable and the counters were clean — The businessman was clearly doing well for himself from the looks of it. 

   “Ah! Welcome, welcome! You’re ______ Senju- Hashirama’s sister, right? It’s an honor to see you!” said the young cook. You smiled at the warm welcome, it had dawned on you that people would probably regard you highly, especially since you had helped end the century-long war. 

   “Please, don’t mind me..!” You straightened up a bit, “The food here smells amazing, are you still open? I understand it’s quite late.” 

   The young cook waved you off, “Ah, Don’t mind that! Just for you, I have room for one more order, or two.” He chuckled a little and got to work on the noodles. “What would you like to order?” You looked up to the menu and saw various dishes that seemed way too good to eat. You couldn't decide for the life of you, so you told the young cook to give you the first dish he had ever made. 

   As you waited for your noodles to be served, you heard the ruffling of fabric. When you glanced back, you were surprised to see Madara standing there. He blinked. You blinked. 

   “What are-”

   “What are you-” ..

   “You first,” You chuckled. 

   He smiled a little while taking a seat next to you. “I heard your voice and well, It’s late so I was wondering what you were doing here.” 

   You nodded in understanding. You opened your mouth to respond but before you could, the young cook placed an appetizing bowl of noodles in front of you. “Here you go! Enjoy them and tell me what you think.” 

   “Will do.” You offered a smile before bringing the bowl closer and taking some chopsticks from the cup. “Anyway, I was just looking around the shops n’ found this place. The noodles smell good so I thought: ‘why not?’” 

   Madara rested his chin on his palm while he looked at you. You seemed so eager to have a bite and wondered for a moment what your expression would look like once you tasted the noodles. You raised your chopsticks and wasted no time in taking the first bite. Just as he expected, a bewildered expression graced your features not long after you took a bite. 

   You noted his gaze on you from the corner of your eye mid-bite. Thinking it weird for him to have his sights so ..set on you, you offered a bite to him. “Do you.. Want some?” 

   “Huh-? Oh, no it’s fine, i’m fine.” He stammered. 

   You smiled awkwardly, finding it humorous for a man like him to be stuttering. “You sure? You keep looking at my food…” 

   “I was looking at you.” he deadpanned. 

   “Oh?-” 

   “-cause you looked dumb.” He said, “Like a kid, getting happy over a mere bowl of noodles.. Stupid..” he muttered that last part under his breath. 

   You, knowing him like the back of your hand, saw his weak defense. There was clearly something more to the way he was looking at you, but you left it alone. You didn’t want to push him. 

   About an hour later, you were caught up talking the night away with Madara. You’d finished your bowl of noodles about thirty minutes ago, but just speaking and catching up with him after years of not knowing anything about him left you curious. The two of you laughed over the differences between clans, the awkwardness of residing next to one another and finally, the present and near future. 

   “And how are they reacting? Better I hope..?” 

   He reluctantly nodded, “Something like that. I think if I continue this overtime, I’ll gain their trust back.” 

   A warm smile found its way onto your lips upon hearing the news. “I think you will, all we need is time.” You looked up at the moon. It was smack dab in the middle of the sky, evidence that it was way past the time you usually slept at. But for some odd reason, you didn’t feel tired. Walking with him through the dirt roads was therapeutic for you in a way. “I wish my brother understood that..” you sighed. 

   “Hashirama?” 

   You shook your head, “The other one.” 

   Madara sighed heavily, “Ah, Tobirama.. I believe he hates me, he thinks I'm a threat, correct?” 

   You nodded, “Yeah.. To put it bluntly, I think he’s still caught up in the old ways.. Though I can’t blame him. But still.. I think you’d be a great Hokage, given the chance.” 

   “Hokage? Me?” Madara chuckled. “Is that what the three of you are trying to decide?” 

   “We need to establish our leader but I don’t want it to be the three of us deciding that. Tobirama thinks the people should choose — and frankly I agree with him.” You continued walking the dirt roads with him. Amidst these hectic days, the times when you got to see Madara or just speak with him were the times you cherished more. 

   Around him, you didn’t have to be a political leader or uphold public appearance. WIth him, you could just be. 

   As the two of you wandered around, white particles around the two of you began to fall. The beginnings of winter, it seemed. “Do you like the snow?” Madara asked you. His demeanor notably softened after your time spent at the restaurant. 

   “I do, actually. I never got to enjoy it much, though.” You reached out a hand to the snowing sky. It was the end of the month, soon it’d be the start of a new year. 

   “Why not?” 

   “Bloodstains.” you said simply. “There was always bloodstains.” 

   Madara didn’t respond. He just watched as you collected particles of snow on your hands, watching them melt due to the warmth you emitted. You always had a habit of leaving him speechless. “Not this year,” he said. He spoke with such certainty that you grew curious of his thoughts. Did he have faith in this village? Did he think it would work in the long-run? 

   “You sound so sure of yourself.” You spoke, with a slight smile as you watched the snow turn into tiny water droplets on your palm.  

   He turned to face you, you were compelled to gaze at him in the same way. 

   “If there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s to have.. Hope.” The word felt foreign on his tongue, but he couldn’t think of a better one. It was true, after all. Since the two of you were kids, you’d always had an inextinguishable hope. One that nobody, not even him in his most regrettable moments, could put out. 

   “I..” You didn’t know what to say to that. You were proud, of course, but .. It was odd to hear him so optimistic. “Really?” 

   He nodded, a smile gracing his lips as he looked down at you. “I used to think it was trivial, that it was just some flimsy thought to make yourself better.. I saw how the village only kept thriving, how more and more clans kept joining us and..” The warmth in his eyes was unlike you’d ever seen before. “I realized you and Hashirama were right. We were still able to achieve the peace between clans that we’d always dreamed of, thanks to the two of you.” 

   “And you.” you nudged him playfully. “You were the one who accepted Hashirama’s offer, so it’s thanks to you too.” 

   Madara never thought a smile could look as pretty as yours, it was something that remained unchanging. 

   Even after choosing to marry him years after the establishment of Konoha and even after giving him three children of his own — your smile remained the light in his life. Madara would never forget how happy you looked when you first got to enjoy the snow in the forest, or the countless dates at Ichiraku that you dragged him to simply because it was the first meal the two of you had eaten together. 

   Now, the two of you were older.. And parents at that. But that only made his love for you increase evermore. He never would have imagined himself to be your husband or the father that you made him, but he wouldn’t exchange it for anything else. You had made his dreams possible and he only hoped that he had made yours possible as well. 

   As he gazed down at your sleeping form on the day after his birthday, Christmas day, he could only smile and place a chaste kiss on your forehead. To his surprise, you smiled at his gesture, which only served to give you away. “Awake are we?” 

   You nodded and adjusted your position to lay your head in his lap. “I have been, for a while now actually. I was wondering when you were gonna notice.” Your voice had a playful lilt to it. He had grown accustomed to it by now. 

   He chuckled at your words. “Oh I noticed alright. I’ve been up longer than you have.” 

   You smiled playfully and sat up to look at him better. “Liar.” 

   “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

   You poked his cheek before getting up to head to the closet. Unbeknownst to your husband, you had made a little present for him and hid it in the closet so he wouldn’t find it. He lifted a brow when he watched you come back and offered a small box to him, wrapped in red gift-wrap and tied with a black ribbon. “What’s the occasion?” 

   Now it was your turn to laugh. “It’s Christmas, did you forget?” 

   “Oh.” He accepted your gift and looked at the carefully wrapped box. “No, I didn’t.” 

   “Alright well, open it!” You sat in front of him, eager to see his reaction. “It may not be the best, but I tried to make it myself instead of just buying it.” 

   “..?” He carefully lifted the top part of the box and was surprised to see a hair accessory- A handmade hair tie to be exact. “You made this yourself?” He lifted it up to inspect it. The tie was made up of red threads, it felt soft in his hand so he guessed silk. It had accents of black along the ends of it as well. 

   You nodded, “I did. I wanted it to be a little more special.” 

   Your thoughtfulness brought a smile to his face. “Do you want to tie it on for me?” With a nod, you made your way to his side and began braiding a bit of his spikey black hair. “A braid?”

   “Mhm, I like how they look on you.” 

   A familiar warmth set in his heart as you watched you carefully braid through his hair. Sometimes, he thought you loved his hair more than him but you always denied it saying that you loved his hair because of him (and that he’d better not cut it off ever because he’d be six feet under before he ever thought of doing such a thing.) 

   A comfortable silence had settled in between the two of you before Madara broke it. 

   “Has your dream come true?” 

   You weaved the strands of hair meticulously. “My dream? About the village?” 

   He shook his head a little, careful not to disturb your work. “The other one.” 

   It took you some time to find what dream he was talking about, until the memory flashed in your mind. “The one I told you about back on the cliff?” 

   Madara nodded, “Has it come true?” As you tied the braid together using the handmade hair tie you’d made for him, you reached out to cup his cheek.

    “Yeah. More than true, I’d wager.”

tagged *ೃ༄

@valerayne @emneedshelp

[chanranghaeys]

☀️ the boy who was the sun

How fitting that you meet him once again under a sky that casts a million colors, the same way that your life turned into a million colors all at once from the moment you first met him?

pairing: lee seokmin x gn!reader word count: 1.6k+ genre: angst to comfort to fluff rating: g tags: exes to second-chance lovers, implied breakup off the page, dk is like the sun :(, sunsets are also beginnings warnings: mentions of family and career pressure

a/n: this is completely inspired by @svtreverie and her words, in turn inspired by hozier’s “shrike,” so in turn i have lifted some passages from you and your brain. i love you, c. please note that i started this in april 2024 because of you, and i finally have the chance to finish it now. i dedicate this to you. dedications also to fellow cuties g @tusswrites and @miniseokminnies bc i can hehe. happy dokyeom day! ☀️

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The sunset came upon you suddenly as you turned the corner, the sun coming out from behind the buildings that shielded its setting rays. You always thought that the sun shined brighter when it set, as sunrises were always softer. Besides, you never really caught the rising of the sun as a self-professed night owl, waking up when it was already high above the world at its peak.

It was the peak of the golden hour. Today, it was a hazy rose gold mixed with pinks and purples that were still warm with the glow of day. You preferred sunsets this way, calmer and less harsh than the torrid streaks of red, yellow, and orange. You wondered what was so special about the past few hours for your eyes to be blessed with this sight.

You didn’t frequent this city often, but that has changed recently. In past years, you used to come here as a young adult starting out in the corporate life. You would wait for your father to fetch you after work so you could come home to a house that lacked a certain warmth, a warmth that you have only felt in numbered moments—memories that were branded in your mind, with some that you’d rather forget.

But time has changed you, and you now shadow your father’s footsteps as next in line to his company. It took a while for you to—as your parents put it—“come to your senses,” but fate had you surrender to it. Your feet moved on impulse as you followed your father’s footsteps, denying that it was against your will.

Besides, did you really have a choice in the matter? In the end, nothing did, anyway.

Today you were alone, and the end of the work day allowed you to finally take a deep breath in this corner green of the bustling business district. Some voice in your head told you to take a walk rather than book a car to take you straight home to the solace of your room in the cover of night.

Maybe subconsciously, you were also looking for the motion of your feet in a place separated from the confines of your comfort zone. Just for today.

The park was busier than usual, with more people both strolling and rushing on opposite sides of intersecting paths. Thankfully, you found solace in the anonymity that the crowd provided you; The joggers in their pace, the kids blowing bubbles at their parents’ faces, the dog walkers and cat lovers, the cliques that perched on their picnic blankets—no one knew who you were, the heir to one of the country’s largest conglomerates. A title whose weight you wish was never hung on your shoulders.

You looked up at the sky once more, savoring the brief moment that nature’s canvas was showing everyone before it was swallowed by the inevitable dark. Phones were raised and camera lenses pointed at the stunning scene in an attempt to capture the fleeting phenomenon. You decide to do the same.

You snap the sky at every angle, finding the best one you can while turning around in place. You realize that you must’ve looked so silly doing so, but again, no one knew who you were anyway. Just when you thought you were satisfied, you raise your phone once more for one final photo. You look at the screen and through the lens of your phone camera, you see him.

Wait a minute. You shake your head and lower your phone to look at the person with your own eyes, making sure that they aren’t deceiving you. They weren’t.

He was in front of you, a few meters away. He was transfixed by the colors above him, doing the exact same thing you were doing just moments ago—but you knew even until now that he’d work harder for the photo. He wasn’t using a phone, but his trusty mirrorless camera snapping away at the sky. He lowers the camera to eye level, capturing the chaos through his lens of calm.

His lens traveled, looking for the next subject to immortalize in a photo. Before you knew it, the lens was aimed right at you.

He froze.

You could just imagine the thoughts going through his head as he lowered his camera. You didn’t care if you were standing in the way because you couldn’t see anyone but him.

Him. The boy who was the sun—your sun. The boy whose light was so bright that it was blinding that it always hurt, but in a good way.

The boy whose light was so bright and blinding, that in the end it just hurt.

Instinct took over. And while it hurt your heart to do it again, you looked down and turned around, away from the only source of light to ever grace your life.

Because you could not do it any longer.

You could not burden him with pressures that were beyond his control. You could not bring him back into a world where the only words for him were, "You don't belong." You could not let him back into the darkness you have made for yourself. You could not protect him from yourself if he reenters the tall walls you have built around you.

In the corner of your eye, you see him start to move, and you begin walking as quick as you can. Your mind started to fill with thoughts you worked so hard to push away—thoughts, memories, unspoken words, and everything else that was for him and no one else.

You refuse to believe the heavy footsteps growing louder as they neared you. You refuse to believe that he would actually still reach for you after the way you pushed him away all those years ago. And even when you felt the grip of a hand on yours, you still refused to believe that it was his fingers and his palms that caught your wrist, how naturally it fit, closing around it as if was a sheath to your sharp edges.

You hear it—your name from his voice, so indelible in your mind, for all its lilts and tones when he both spoke and sang. His voice, that you have not heard in five years, immediately brought you back to the day you first met and all the days since then.

His voice that, in one second, immediately broke down the walls that you put up around yourself since that last day.

You find your voice, surprising yourself that you did. “Seokmin. Hi.” You were breathless, and your voice showed it.

“Hi.” He replied, and he smiled, the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen, breaking out from his face, one that could not hide the pure emotion. “I’m so happy to see you here.”

Before you could register what happened, you found yourself replying involuntarily, “Me too.”

And with that simple statement, something shifted in you.

Five years have changed you, there’s no doubt about that. And in those five years, you’ve come to terms with the painful truth behind why you let him go, with the question of “Why?” still haunting your every moment of regret.

On the worst nights, you find yourself wrapped in the jacket he put around your shoulders for the last time, right before you parted. The one that granted you his faithfully unfailing warmth in the cold, grateful it was there to catch your tears.

On the best days, you absentmindedly hum the tune from the LUCY song he said was his favorite, the one that you came to love just as much as he did. Whether you knew it or not, he was still in everything you did.

Because one thing you knew and you were sure of—you loved him, with every piece and fiber within you. You loved him hard, too hard, so much so to the point that you had no choice but to let him go.

Yet here you are, with the life-shattering realization that you still love him, titles and labels and families and the whole world be damned, because the man standing in front of you was the same man who still had his heart on his sleeve. You could see it in his smile.

How fitting that you meet him once again under a sky that casts a million colors, the same way that your life turned into a million colors all at once from the moment you first met him?

In the midst of the crowd and the afterglow of the sunset, in a place where you could trust to remain unseen and unknown, you find once again the only person who was and is still the light in your darkest days. How could you have ever denied this plain and simple truth?

It was with his smile that you felt it again—it was so bright that it was blinding, and an ache in your heart spasmed at the warmth that spread from it. It hurt, as it always did these past years, but now…it was in a good way again.

The setting sun gave way to the dusk. Artificial light replaced the natural glow of the day to keep the surroundings lit. But underneath its canopy, you couldn’t help the light blooming again from within you, slowly making its way to the smile that formed on your lips.

With the glimmer of this newfound light, you resolve to fight every single instinct within you—to walk away, to move your feet in the opposite direction, to run from the feelings that you have always avoided.

You start small, with one, two steps towards him. You could whisper, and he would hear it because he knew that as long as it came from you, it didn’t need to be shouted. He knew that you’d fly like a bird to him now if you could.

Because nothing else but your truth can illuminate the path ahead of you. And your truth was standing right in front of you.

[mykoreanlove]

channie's way of helping you relax

“Sweetheart, can you come here for a minute?”

Chan was sitting on the living room’s floor with his back leaned against the black leather couch. His hands motioned you to come sit in between his legs, fully positioned in the safety of his embrace. You felt his strong arms wrap around you and leaned back against his broad chest. A warm feeling overcame you, like finally sensing the first rays of sunshine after a gruesome winter.

“I want you to close your eyes”, he said gently. You did as he told but only for a second as your curiosity got the best of you. He instantly noticed and scolded you for your behavior.

“Ah ah, bad girl. Close your eyes, baby girl. Be good for me.”

This time you obeyed – with eyes closed you leaned even deeper into his body.

“Good girl. I want you to take some deep breaths for me, okay? Deep breath in through your nose and deep breath out of your mouth.”

You felt his chest rising as he demonstrated the breathing and joined him, getting calmer and calmer by his side.

“In and out”, he calmly orchestrated.

“Can you feel yourself relax some more, baby?”

A sweet smile formed on your lips, deeply touched by his care for you.

“Now breathe normally and just listen to my words, okay?”

Your breathing stabilized and you felt peaceful, like a wave of calmness had washed over you, taking away all the stressors of daily life. You surrendered to the moment and only focused on Chan, simply listening to his deep and raspy voice like he wanted you to.

“I am so in love with you, y/n”, he declared softly.

“Like, crazy in love with you, baby.”

“Do you even realize that? Do you even realize what you’re doing to me?”

“I’ve never met someone like you. Someone so beautiful and captivating, so smart and charming. I feel like I am dating my best friend. My goddess. My soulmate…”

“You make me a better person, baby. Thank you for that.”

“Thank you for always staying by my side and forcing me to sleep and eat and relax.” A small giggle escaped your lips.

“I wanna take care of you forever. I wanna make sure you’re safe and that you take your vitamins and get a bite to eat. I wanna make sure you’re hydrated and in good spirits.”

“I wanna make you feel loved, y/n.”

“Every. Single. Day.”

“I love you, y/n. Like so fucking much.”

“Our love is special, don’t you think? It’s not only sexy and passionate but also nurturing.”

“I won’t ever let go of you."

“In fact, I’m going to marry you some day.”

“I’m going to take this delicate hand of yours and put a ring on it. Not just a simple ring, no, the most beautiful and shiniest diamond I can find. One that’s so special that your friends’ jaws will drop at brunch. That kind of ring.”

“Because that’s what you deserve, baby.”

“You deserve to be taken care of. And spoiled. All the riches in the world belong to you as long as you’re with me, sweetie.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Will you make me the happiest man on the planet?”

“Say yes, baby.”

“Please, say yes.”

“Please?”

[theemporium]

Character B, being someone who likes to hug something in their sleep, ends up using Character A as their makeshift pillow. Character A isn’t too keen on it at first but they end up accepting their fate. (It’s the best night of sleep they’ve probably ever had since they were a kid.) 

I need this as fluff with max because there was one interview where he said he wasn’t big on spooning/cuddling and I as this and immediately thought about it

this is so🥹thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

As much as the Dutchman tried to deny his feelings for you, it was clear to everyone else in the world that he was head over heels.

He was blunt with his words and how he felt, never shying away from them when questioned. Though, that being said, he wasn’t always the most aware of his own feelings. And when he was, it wasn’t instinctive for him to yell them from every rooftop so everyone in the world knew how he felt. 

Max bottled his feelings. He let them linger and fester until he was ready to confront them. And despite every single sign in the universe pointing out that he was in love with you, he was nowhere near saying the words aloud to anyone, or even himself.

But that didn’t stop him from showing you he loved you in simple gestures that felt like an instinct rather than a chore.

It was a surprise to most of the paddock that the two of you even became friends, let alone anything more. 

You were opposites in every sense of the word. Max was blunt and direct, you were calmer and more patient with people. Max was seen as a villain to a large majority of the Formula One world, whilst you were a walking, talking ray of sunshine. Max was the golden boy of Red Bull racing, and you were a hardworking member of the Mercedes team. 

And despite it all, you two were a bonded pair known throughout the paddock. 

There would be countless little things Max would do for you that would confuse the people of the paddock. The way he would seek you out the second he was relieved from his duties in the garage or the media pen. The way he would bring you snacks and drinks even if it meant venturing into a sea of silver to find you. The way he would always have an extra hoodie or jacket for you in case things got chilly by the track. The way he would always drive you to and from the paddock, even if it meant he had to stay longer after the races on Sunday when he could leave. 

Though your favourite ritual was the movie nights you would have. 

They were sporadic at best, but you were both committed when you had one. It was usually after one of you had a bad day, when you weren’t quite ready to talk it out but wanted the distraction regardless. 

It had been a tiring day for Max in the media pen, but when he saw the look on your face as he approached the Mercedes garage, he knew it was nothing in comparison to the day you had. He was soundless as he took your backpack from you and headed to the car, barely saying a word until you reached the hotel. He told you to change into something comfier and make your way to his hotel room afterwards. 

Dinner had already been ordered by the time you arrived, and he silently handed you the remote so you could choose the movie. 

Max’s lips twitched when he noticed you had picked New Moon, only snorting a little when you rolled your eyes and jabbed his side for judging your choice. But he remained quiet as you two ate, enjoying the movie as though you hadn’t made him watch it a million times. 

However, he failed to realise just how hard the day hit you because it wasn’t even thirty minutes into the movie when he felt your head on his shoulder. You were both lying back on the bed, the pillows fluffed behind you and the duvet covering you both. It was comfy and it made sense.

And yet, in all the movie nights you had together—in the whole time you had been friends—never once had you shared the bed. You would always make your way back to your hotel room by the end of the night. 

But here you were, fast asleep and tucked into his side. 

Max was frigid and tense at first. A part of him knew he could have just slid away from you, guided you towards the other side of the bed. He could have shaken you awake and carried you back to your hotel room. Hell, he could have even taken the couch or the floor if it meant he had his own space. 

But he found he didn’t really want to.

He told himself that it was the dinner and the long day that had tired him out. That he could no longer fight the sleepiness and exhaustion in his body, that it wouldn’t be worth the effort to move you away. He told himself all of that on a loop as he switched the tv off, as he shuffled down on the bed so he was comfy, as he let you wrap yourself around him like a koala. 

He told himself that he didn’t like it and it was a one time thing as he fell asleep. 

When he woke up in the morning, he was almost surprised to find that you were closer than you were before. Your legs were entangled and your arms were wound around his torso, your cheek pressed against his chest as you slept peacefully. 

He was warm, though it wasn’t unbearable. The heat and weight of you pressed up against him wasn’t as irritating as he assumed it would be. It was comforting. In an odd way, it was soothing, assuring even. 

He was almost annoyed when you woke up.

“You’re not as grumpy as you usually are,” his teammate noted when he entered the garage that morning, ready for the first free practice session of the day.

“I guess I had a good night’s sleep,” Max replied simply with a shrug of his shoulders.

Daniel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you get laid or something?”

Max rolled his eyes. “That’s not the only way to have a good night's sleep.”

Daniel just raised his hands in mock defence. “Alright, don’t bite my head off,” he murmured, though there was an amused smile on his face. “Is it a new stuffed bear? Maybe I should put you down for a nap if you’re getting cranky.”

His chest almost tightened at the thought of napping with you, of having you wrapped around him once again, of feeling that sense of calmness wash over him. 

“You’re hilarious, mate.”

“I know.” 

Yet, Max couldn’t help but spend the rest of the day wondering how he could convince you to sleep in his bed again.

.

[a-bit-of-writing]

Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's  Characters: Sun/Moon x Reader  (gender neutral) Words: 1,034 Summary: They don’t know they’re killing you. They just know you can’t leave.

Note: This is a continuation from this ONESHOT. So, consider this as a sequel. I may or may not be considering making a series out of this from different perspectives to see if Reader survives 😉.

You don’t know how long you’ve been here.

The Pizzaplex has no windows, no clocks. Just the endless hum of dying machinery and the flicker of failing lights. You stopped checking your watch a while ago - the numbers blur, meaningless. Time doesn’t exist here. Only they do.

Sun’s fingers are cold where they lace through yours, holding too tightly, too long. His smile, painted and permanent, flickers with static in the low light.

 “See?” he chirps, though his voice warps at the edges. “This is better! No need to leave, no need to worry, just you and me and games!”

You don’t correct him. You’ve learned that’s dangerous.

The last time you tried to leave - really leave - his grip left bruises. Fingerprints pressed so deep they felt like they’d never fade. His voice never rose, but the light behind his eyes had flickered too fast, too sharp.

Moon had surfaced that night.

 “You’re not going anywhere.”

Now you sit quietly, back against the cool foam wall of the daycare, feeling Sun’s weight leaning into your side like a child desperate for comfort. His rays are bent, some bells missing, but he hums like nothing’s wrong. Like the two of you are still surrounded by the laughter of children.

But there’s only the two of you.

And him.

Because the lights will fail. They always do.

The flicker is subtle at first. Just a dimming at the edges, the soft buzz of electricity stuttering. Sun’s grip tightens.

“N-no! Stay bright, stay bright, stay—”

But the darkness comes anyway.

———————

Moon unfolds from the same body like smoke leaking from cracks. The softness in Sun’s posture is gone, now replaced by something leaner, sharper. His head tilts, eyes glowing faint red in the dark.

 “Still here,” Moon purrs, crouching in front of you. “Good.”

You swallow hard as he reaches out, fingers curling beneath your chin, tilting your face up.

 “I was afraid you’d get ideas again.”

His voice is lower, calmer but laced with something heavier. Threats that don’t need to be spoken.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly.

It’s the only thing that keeps him steady.

Moon hums, satisfied for now, but he doesn’t pull away. His thumb traces your jaw, slow, deliberate, like he’s memorizing the shape of you. The only thing in this place that still moves, still breathes.

“You’re the last thing that belongs here,” he murmurs. “The last thing that works.”

You close your eyes, just for a moment but the darkness behind your lids feels too much like him, so you force them open again.

——————

You wake later - how much later, you don’t know - half-curled beneath one of the padded play structures, your limbs stiff. Your throat dry.

You should be afraid. You are afraid. But it’s dulled, worn down by days - weeks? - of the same cycle.

Sun’s nearby, sitting cross-legged, singing to himself in a voice glitching at the edges. He’s got a crayon in one hand, dragging it across a moldy sheet of paper. Scribbles, rough shapes, crude drawings of you smiling.

“See? You look happy here!” he chirps, turning the drawing toward you with a proud shake of his bells.

The figure doesn’t look like you. Not really. But you nod, because it’s what he wants.

“It’s… nice,” you manage.

He beams.

“We’ll hang it on the wall! Right next to the others!”

You glance to where dozens - maybe hundreds - of similar drawings are taped along the foam walls, curling at the edges. Each one a distorted version of you: smiling, waving, staying.

——————

It happens again that night.

The lights stutter.

The hum dies.

Moon pulls you close the second the dark settles, holding you too tightly against his chest, metal fingers splayed along your back like a cage.

“Why do you flinch?” he whispers.

You don’t answer.

“I’m keeping you safe.”

His breath - synthetic, cooling fans whirring faintly - ghosts across your neck.

“The others left,” he murmurs, voice soft as silk. “But you… you stayed. That means something.”

Your heart pounds harder.

“I stayed because I care,” you whisper, lying because it’s safer than the truth. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”

For a moment, Moon stills.

Then, almost too soft to hear:

 “You’re lying.”

His grip tightens, fingers pressing into your spine. Panic surges but he shushes you, rocking gently, back and forth like a lullaby.

 “It’s alright,” he hums. “You’ll mean it soon enough.”

———————

Days blur. Time rots.

You wake once with Sun tucking plastic flowers behind your ear, humming a song you recognize from childhood. Another time, Moon holds your wrist so tightly it aches for hours after, his voice a constant whisper in your ear.

“You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.”

You believe it less every time he says it.

But you nod. You smile. Because it’s the only way to survive.

——---

It isn’t until much later that you hear the buzz of power again - stronger, steady. Somewhere in the distance, systems reboot. Lights flicker in the hallway beyond.

A chance.

Your body tenses. You’re on your feet before you can second-guess, darting toward the exit of the daycare.

You don’t get far.

Moon’s arm snakes around your waist, dragging you back so fast your breath leaves you in a gasp. His grip bruises.

 “Leaving?” he hisses, voice no longer soft. “Leaving?”

You struggle, panic surging but his strength is unmatched. He pulls you against his chest, head tilted, grin stretched wide.

“Why?” he whispers. “After everything we’ve built here?”

Sun flickers back in, blinking, frantic.

“Don’t go!” he cries, pulling at your arm with desperate, shaking hands. “We can play more games! We can -  we can paint! Please - ”

The switch back to Moon is violent.

“You don’t get to leave,” he snarls. “Not after all this time.”

You try to speak, try to explain, but his grip tightens painfully.

“We kept you safe,” Moon growls, face inches from yours. “We kept you safe.”

And in the flicker of failing lights, you realize:

It was never about safety.

It was never about you.

It was about them. The last piece of control they had left.

And they’ll never let it go.

Not even if it kills you.

[the-kr8tor]

The Morning after

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Synopsis: you spend a peaceful morning with Hobie.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (reader is mentioned to be smaller than Hobie though) TW food mentions, established relationship, FLUFF , lovestruck Hobie.

A continuation of this fic.

My Masterlist

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Hobie wakes up with his right arm aching, he groans from the weight slightly crushing his arm– wait what?

He opens his half asleep eyes with a confused look. Hobie cranes his neck down, he finally sees who the intruder is.

Hobie smiles to himself, Fully waking up, he remembers that he invited you over. He stares at your form, memorizing every bit of detail from how you clutched his jumper with a grip, your lips slightly parted as you exhale, the early morning sun shines at your back, bathing your form in a heavenly glow. Hobie moves you closer to him, as to not let the rays hit your face and disturb your peace.

He tries to move you both farther away from the edge of the bed, but he finds that your legs are intertwined with his, preventing him from moving.

He huffs, a lopsided smile on his lips. Hobie ghosts his thumb over your cheeks, the pattern from the knitted blanket leaves a mark on your skin. A sign that you've slept well, and in his arms no doubt. His forgotten comforter kicked to the foot of the bed.

He gets a whiff of your coconut shampoo, surely leaving its scent on his pillow.

He thinks about buying a proper toothbrush holder, so he could place his and yours together.

He really should invite you more.

Hobie's spidey senses wake him up from his daze– he clutches you closer to his body, carefully cradling your head. A wave from a moving boat rushes towards the houseboat, rocking it harshly. His busted alarm clock drops to the floor in a crash.

Hobie hisses as he sees you twitch. He curses whoever was in that boat.

"Ughh" you groan out, muffled against Hobie's chest. You grip his jumper tighter.

"Shit" his voice deeper than usual, you release his jumper and instead hug his torso. The waves get calmer, rocking you both softly.

"You alright?" He rubs your back just in case you feel sick.

You pop your head away from Hobie's chest, chin resting on his scratchy jumper, you tickle him a bit, but he won't tell you that of course. You open one eye to stare at him, yawning.

"Say that again?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

"Are you alright?" He hides his laugh by clearing his throat.

"Hmm" you grin "I like your morning voice"

He chuckles deeply, knowing what it does to you.

"Oh, you did that on purpose, you dork" you softly say.

"Yeah, bet it got you all hot and bothered for it too, huh" Hobie pokes your sides teasingly.

"Don't start" you swat away his hand, noticing his teasing mood this morning, you anticipate his tickling.

"You look pretty in the morning, you didn't wake up early and clean yourself up secretly, right?" He knows you didn't, sleep still sticking on your eyes, your hair looking disheveled.

"Nope, it's au naturel" you quip back. It earns a deep chuckle from Hobie.

He carefully rubs off the gunk from the corner of your eye, you sigh into his touch.

"You like my morning breath too?" He tries to blow air downwards but you're ready, you clasp your hand over his mouth, stopping his teasing.

You laugh victorious, that is until he licks your hand, recoiling your hand away, he laughs loudly.

"Hobie! That's it, I'm not making you breakfast"

"Alright, alright, I'll stop. For now" he grabs the back of your head pushing you back to his chest.

You move to the crooked of his neck instead, in case you're crushing him. You slyly wipe his drool from your hand on his jumper.

"I saw that" Hobie peeks downward.

"No, you didn't"

"This is vintage y'know"

"It's your own drool!" You laugh.

"Yeah! And you slobbered all over it while you used me as your personal pillow" he rubs the exposed skin on your waist, cupping the softness fondly.

"I don't slobber!" You grab his jaw downwards so you could look eye to eye.

"Tell that to my soaked jumper" he whispers, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Your heart skips a beat.

Knowing what he's gonna do next, you cover his lips over your hand, "let me brush my teeth first"

You push away from Hobie, your torso barely off the bed, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you back down. You gasp out.

"Nope" in one swift movement Hobie cups your cheek guiding you towards his lips, your lips crash against each other, you cringe when your forehead hits his a bit too loudly. Insecurity fills you when you remember that you still have morning breath.

He doesn't care though, instead he pokes your sides, making you gasp parting your lips, making him kiss you deeper.

You pull away breathlessly when you hear a rumbling noise underneath you.

"Ah, fuck" Hobie facepalms in embarrassment.

Hobie's stomach grumbles again, mocking him.

You grab his hand, peeking in "aww, my poor baby is hungry" you mockingly coo. "I'll make you breakfast, sunny side up right?" You push off him, finally noticing you're on the wrong side of the bed.

"Yes, please, love" he exhales out the embarrassment.

"How'd I end up on this side?" You point out.

"Huh, I probably dragged you with me"

You imagine what it might've looked like, you fluster. Even asleep he wants you near, you look at him adoringly, swiping away the sheen on his lips before leaving a kiss for good measure.

You leave for the bathroom, he stares at the door you entered in, a lovestruck expression on his face. Once he knows you're decent, he flips away the covers, following towards the sound of the faucet squeak open.

Hobie knocks, you hum while brushing your teeth. He opens the door, then leans against it, his arms relaxed on his sides, his sweatpants hang low on his hips.

He admires you bathe in white fluorescent light, his shirt on your form hanging loose on you. You looked out of place but at the same time fitting right in his tiny bathroom.

He thought you looked like you came out of an oil painting.

"You need to use the bathroom?" You ask as you place your toothbrush down.

"You should leave it"

"Leave what?"

"Your toothbrush, for next time" Hobie crosses his arms, a sudden shyness floods him.

"Of course" you smile, already getting what he's trying to say, "I was already planning on leaving it" you come forward, leaving a minty kiss on his cheek. "Your turn stinky" you pat his bum with a smack.

Hobie hears your laughter echo around the houseboat.

-

After washing up, Hobie opens the bathroom door, the smell of eggs and his favourite tea covers his senses. He chuckles to himself.

He could get used to this.

Hobie enters his modest kitchen, you hum along to the music from the radio, the inside of his houseboat looks a bit different than before, there's more light shining inside, fresh air wafts through the open windows, it seems that there's more life in his home.

He moves towards you, hugging you from behind. You giggle at the contact. He looks over your shoulder, he watches as you expertly flip the pancake over.

"Hello to you too" you crane your neck to look at him "I opened the windows, it's too nice outside. Hope you don't mind"

"I don't mind, we need the fresh air" he snuggles deeper on the crook of your neck. "Where'd you get pancake mix? I know that I don't have any"

"Ah, I brought it with me" you side glance at him, gauging his reaction.

"So, you were planning on making breakfast for me, hmm?"

"I did bring it, but it doesn't mean I was planning on cooking it myself" you turn off the stove, he turns you around, crowding you in between him and the stove.

"So you're making me breakfast out of the goodness of heart then?" He holds onto your hips.

"Yes, you're making the next one by the way"

"You're a cheeky one, aren't you?" He leans towards you, his lips ghosting over yours, but before sealing the deal, he grabs his mug behind you. He sips from it loudly, making eye contact over the mug.

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your disappointment. "You're a menace" you give him a plate of eggs, sunny side up just like how he requested it. "Make yourself useful, and set the table"

Hobie sees his kitchen counter slash dining table, that's not gonna cut it out for you. He looks out of the window, the rare sun shining over the river, fluffy white clouds blanket the sky.

It's a beautiful morning, a shame to waste it.

He pushes the door open, leading to his 'porch'

"Where are you going?" You ask curiously.

"You'll see" Hobie peeks back inside, a smirk on his face.

You shake your head at his shenanigans, you wonder what he's planning.

The water looks calm, the cold morning air nips at his skin, his jumper barely protecting him from the cold. Hobie sees the metal table wet with morning dew, that won't do, so he grabs a nearby cloth to wipe it dry, he carefully puts down the plate of eggs and his tea, to wipe at the mismatched chairs.

Hobie wipes the wooden chair more thoroughly, since the metal one looks more worn down, he's concerned you might poke yourself on it.

He looks at his handiwork, there seems to be something missing, Hobie roams his eyes around the boat, his eyes stop at an empty beer bottle, he places it in the middle of the table acting as a centerpiece.

Then he perches himself near the edge of his boat to pick a single daisy from a neighbouring houseboat's flower pot; he's sure they wouldn't notice one missing. Hobie gingerly puts the small flower inside the bottle.

You open the door with your foot a little too loudly, you squint at the harsh sound. Hobie quickly moves to help you carry out the plates and mug.

"Thanks, Hobie," you grin, your smile gets wider when you see his little set up. The little daisy swaying in the air. "Oh, handsome" you gasp out.

You're finished, your eyes slightly glazing over.

Hobie chuckles at his new nickname, he moves the wooden chair for you to sit, hands on its back, like a gentleman.

" C'mon then, stop gawking, I'm starving" he stares at your dumbstruck face, the cold air leaving goosebumps on your arms.

You sit down, smiling, forgetting the cold air.

"Do you want me to grab a jacket?" He asks as he rubs your arms from behind.

You grab his wrist, you bracelet around it with your fingers, "no, stay, I'm okay" you sniff, revealing your lie.

"Nah, I'm not letting you freeze to death, let me grab it real quick, alright?" Hobie runs inside, eager to come back to you.

Oh, he's absolutely whipped for you, no doubt about it.

You revel in the sun shining on you, closing your eyes, you inhale sharply. Hobie sees you like this, his breath hitches in his throat. You must look heavenly, a slight breeze makes your eyelashes flutter. Opening your eyes, you notice eyes on you, you smile at him.

He's done for.

Waking up from his stupor, he wraps the dark hoodie on your head. A feeble attempt to hide the effect you have on him

"And here I thought you were being sweet on me" you tease him, knowing that he actually is soft for you.

"I've got a reputation, y'know" he sits down with a metal creak.

Hobie notices that you're sitting a little bit too far for his taste. "What are you doing there? C'mere" he grabs your chair, pulling it towards him, the wooden legs scraping against the metal of the boat.

You laugh, despite the harsh sound coming from the scraping.

"There, much better?" He leans on the arms of his chair.

You nod, a permanent smile on your face "much better" you kiss his cheek, your cold lips a contrast to his warm skin, it melts into his skin, etching in like a tattoo.

You intertwine your arm around his, speaking softly, as to not disturb your little peaceful bubble around the both of you, " y'know I thought you would be grumpier in the morning"

"Why's that?" He leans closer.

"I don't know, you seem like the type" you whisper against his lips, "you're a night owl, so I thought you would hate waking up this early"

"Only if I don't sleep well" heat rises in your cheeks at his implication, "Lucky for me I've got my very own koala latching on to me last night"

You raise your eyebrow "Really a koala, that's the best you can do, Hobart?"

"You always resort to calling me by my government name whenever you're flustered, koala works, lovey" he cups your jaw, his thumb brushes past your lips. You close your eyes, leaning in.

Before your lips could meet, you hear a gurgling sound.

You pull away, laughing loudly. Hobie lets out a small goddamnit.

"We should eat, before your stomach starts eating you from the inside" you say in between laughs.

"Yeah, yeah" he grumpily grabs his spoon.

You hide your smile behind your mug.

A/N: thanks for reading! Hope you liked it, as always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*image above is from pinterest*

[maxispixels]

HANDPICKED

PART EIGHT.

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

2.2k words

You work at a flower shop in late 70s London and Hobie's being a menace. Slowburn? Probably will be around 10 parts. Strangers to reluctant acquaintances to friends to something more. Maybe a lil' messy?

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine. Part ten. Part eleven. Part twelve. Part thirteen. Part fourteen.

Hobie didn’t leave that night. He didn’t try to, and you didn’t ask him to. He didn’t leave the night after that either, and you had naturally started to buy groceries for two. 

You liked him by your side better than anywhere else. You knew he was safe. His injuries from last time weren’t that bad, and besides a few nasty bruises and broken lip, he was fine. Still, you knew it could’ve been worse. You had taken the time to see even the faintest scars on his skin, each of them with a story you could only imagine would make your insides churn. 

His belongings started to crowd your flat. It started with jewelry and random accessories he’d leave on your bedside table or on the bathroom sink. You’d find rings and other spikey, leathery things scattered across the floor. Then, it was the clothes. The jacket, the sweaters and ripped shirts. You didn’t mind the extra mess. His presence lingered like the sweet aftertaste of a whiskey with a touch of honey—warm and addictive. 

When his guitar finally made it into your flat, that’s when you knew he was coming back. If not for you, then at least for that.

You started to notice every quirks he had, every stupid little habit, the way he never wore matching socks—he couldn’t care to keep them in pairs—how he still tensed at distant sirens, and how he looked out the window wistfully when he thought you weren’t watching.  You also noticed the way he seemed so much calmer there. You thought it was the lavender potpourri Rose taught you how to make. She did tell you lavender had relaxing properties.

You tried to leave your bed to him while he was recovering, but he was never going to let you sleep on the ground. It was too cold, he said your chattering teeth would’ve kept him from sleeping. You didn’t argue for too long, even if his injuries weren’t serious and he was strong, you liked the idea of being able to check on his breathing anytime of the night. He noticed every time, but he pretended to sleep through it.

It felt natural, like he had always been there. The only reminder that he hadn’t was that you tripped over his boots in the small entryway, your muscle memory not yet accustomed to the new obstacles on hte ground. 

Warm rays of winter sunlight peeked through your curtains, slowly pulling you out of your dreams. You sat up and looked down to your side, where he rested, sleeping peacefully. Hobie was not a morning person, and you knew not to bother him or wake him up.

You took the time to watch him again, enjoying the newfound ability to just stare at his face uninterrupted. His bruises had almost fully disappeared, completely healed up, and you were happy to see he didn’t bring any new ones home in a while. 

He was so dreamy, sleeping like that, his face fully relaxed, his jaw hanging slightly open. You wanted to just grab his cheeks and… you weren’t sure. Maybe make a dozen prints of that pretty face. 

Carefully, you made your way out of the sheets, getting something good ready for breakfast. As you were turning on the gas, wanting something warm, you heard groggy groaning coming from the bed. A smile graced your lips as you saw his tired form standing up tall. He dragged his body to you like it was heavy, before putting his hand on the counter beside you, resting his weight a bit too close for comfort, his warmth engulfing you. “Why’d you always have to get out of bed so early?” He complained, almost whining like a child, except the child had a morning voice so deep you questioned how your ears could even pick up that frequency.

“It’s almost 10.” You retorted.

“That’s wot I'm sayin’. So damn early.”

You just laughed softly. He was a bit too at ease, almost leaning on your back. You gulped, you could feel the faint blow of his breath against the shell of your ears. 

You had gotten used to having him around, but not this close. Still, you tried to persuade yourself this was just a normal, friendly interaction, that the warm fuzzy feeling in your veins was due to the smell of the apple melting with the oats. His fingers found your arms and it almost made you flinch as you tried to stir the pot.

“Porridge, really?” He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or groan.

“What’s wrong with porridge?” You were ready to scold him.

“Nothin’, t’s just tasteless, mushy an’ gross.”

“You’re tasteless,” you retorted, earning a low chuckle. He leaned a bit more against you, almost putting all of his weight onto your back.

Maybe it was his tiredness, or maybe he just couldn’t resist the comfort of leaning into you.

You were scared he’d fall asleep right there. You turned down the gas, letting the oatmeal simmer, before turning around to face him.

He was even closer than you imagined, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. Suddenly, his hand settled on your hip. You froze, every nerve lighting up at once. Before you could process it, he gently moved you aside.

“Careful,” he murmured, his tone soft but firm. “Y’were gonna burn yourself.”

A breath you didn’t realize you were holding escaped as you watched him. Even half-asleep, even with his guard down, he was careful with you—always.

He stayed close, though, not quite stepping away. The air between you felt heavier than the steam rising from the pot, and it wasn’t just the heat from the stove making your cheeks burn. You tried to steady your voice, turning back to the stove, muttering something about needing to watch the oats. 

“Shit, I almost succeeded in ruinin’ the oats and force you to eat something actually flavorful,” he joked, relieving some of the tension there.

You started to stir the pot again, your hands feeling clammy and shaky, trying to focus on anything but the lingering tickle of his hand on you. Hobie moved to the window, cracking it open to let the cool winter air seep in. The fresh breeze made the room feel lighter, although it did little to alleviate the heat in your cheeks.

 When the oats were ready, you poured the mixture into two bowls, sliding one to him.

He shook his head dramatically. “Can’t believe you’re makin’ us eat that.”

“You haven’t even tasted it yet. It tastes like apple pie!” You defended.

“Pre-chewed apple pie,” he corrected with a lopsided smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “If you hate it so much, I’ll just eat yours too.”

“Oi, now. I didn’t say that.” He gladly accepted the warm bowl, muttering something about “sacrifices for survival.”

Without a second thought, you both settled back on the bed, bowls in hand. Eating on a table was a social construct anyway. Your knees collided, and the silence was filled with the quiet clicking of spoons. He reluctantly admitted to liking it, but just a little bit, and only because you made it. 

After some time, both bowls rested on the bedside table, while you two were lounging, basking in between warm quilts and sheets, a few feet apart from each other. You let out a content sigh, happy to sit there with good company and no responsibility whatsoever. 

Hobie stretched his arms and cracked his back. “M’bored.” His eyes scanned across the room, before landing on his dusty guitar. He reached over you for his instrument, and you took the time to look at its worn state, covered in stickers and random stuff, engraving and dirt.

“Does that thing even play?” You jokingly asked, and he was the one glaring at you for once. You felt a cold shiver run down your spine. You were pretty sure he knew you were -mostly- joking, but you made a note to yourself to never piss him off.

He started to play something, fingers idly drumming notes without much cohesion, just looking for a melody to click. You watched him.

You never saw him play before, so it did grab all of your attention. He really looked in his element there. You knew he was in a band or something along those lines, but he didn’t elaborate. 

You felt like he was trying to figure something out. You watched as his fingers moved instinctively over the strings, the random notes forming something cohesive—until, like a spark catching flame, it clicked. The music shifted, richer and fuller, wrapping around you like a second skin.

It felt like a rush of creative energy, striking like lightning. You thought the few notes he played before sounded good already, but when he reached what he wanted, it was a whole other level. Chords followed each other seamlessly and you found your mouth hanging open catching flies. He was focused fully — locked in even. His eyebrows tugged together, drawing a tense line on his forehead. 

It made shivers run down your spine and your arms covered in goosebumps. For once, you struggled to focus on just him, not when the music filled every corner of the room down to the crevices in your thoracic cage. Every fiber of your being vibrated with the strings under his fingers, and hell he was just jamming on your bed. 

Now, you wanted to attend a gig. You thought about it before out of curiosity, but now it was a need. You wanted to see him up on a stage, you wanted to see him in his element, observing him in his natural habitat. 

Part of you was a bit scared though, you wondered how poorly you’d fit in there, sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of punks and other cool people you didn’t have much in common with. The idea of not fitting in his circle, of him suddenly realising that maybe you two didn’t have that much in common either, made you uneasy.

His music kept your thoughts from spiraling, and you focused back on his playing. There was some instant you swore actual light came off his guitar.  

It was only when he put down his guitar that he noticed you staring at him like that. Sure, he was aware you were watching, he had no issue playing in front of people, and he picked up his guitar with the knowledge you’d be the audience. 

But not like that, with eyes wide and shining like a kid. He wasn’t ready for that sight, his mouth dry, almost empty of a teasing comment.

It wasn’t fully enough to render him witless, and he gave you the usual smirk he did before saying something stupid, only it was slightly delayed this time.

“Bloody hell, did I break ya?” He waved his hand in front of your awestruck face, and you had to swallow down the admiration of your expression. You felt like a kid caught staring at their idol.

“I—You did not break me.” You tried to defend weakly, your words coming out hesitant and messy. 

“Uh huh. Sure did not. I know I’m that cool, but still—”

“You’re… Alright, I guess.” You deflected with puffed cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”

You bit down your lips, and almost shyly reached to fidget with the folds of your clothes. With a defeated sigh, the truth bubbled up despite yourself.“Okay, that was... incredible. I mean, I knew you had to be good, but that—” You gestured vaguely, as if words couldn’t fully capture it. “That was something else.” You admitted, your eyes going back up to meet his. He looked like he was hanging to your every word, every ounce of validation you gave him, his guard slipping for just a moment, before his cocky grin snapped back into place like a shield.

“You should come to a gig sometime.” He offered, and a smile crept to your lips.

“Really?” You looked out the window. “M’not sure. Never really went to anything like that.” 

“Well there’s a first for everythin’!” He chirped and you giggled at his enthusiasm. No matter what insecurities still stuck to your skin, you couldn’t say no to the genuine excitement in his eyes. “My mates n’ me are playin’ next week.” 

Your eyes widened. “Shoudn’t you be… training with them or something?”

“Wot fo’? Ya just saw how talented I am.” He joked and you scoffed in disbelief. “C'mon, I know ya wanna see it live.” He teased, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You bit down a shy smile, unsure about it. Sure, you did, but it made you anxious too. “Mh… is there going to be lots of people?”

“Plenty. T's club down Upper Street, maybe a ten minutes walk from yer little flower shop. Looks a bit posh but don’t let it fool ya.”

You nodded, trying to remember even if you weren’t sure yet. “Mh. We’ll see…”

“Nah, don’t pull any we’ll see on me. You’re coming, period. Wanna see you there.” His enthusiasm was contagious, and you let out a defeated smile.

“Fine, alright. I’ll be there.” you agreed, your voice quiet but resolute. For a second, Hobie just stared at you, and then his grin grew wide and mischievous, his eyes lighting up like you’d just handed him the winning lottery ticket. 

Part nine.

There is a separate doc called chapter cemetery because of how many time I had to rewrite those

Tag list: @hoe-bie

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

Suavium

Summary : After a nightmare, you come to Cloud for comfort. In other words, you both sweetly make out.

Pairing : Cloud Strife x Reader

Word Count : 1.015 words

Warnings : fluff, very brief mention of nightmare, kisses.

It was very late at night but you still decided to knock at Cloud’s room door.

You were a member of the Avalanche group and you had to admit that during missions you were more likely to have nightmares. You were stressed and you wanted to be useful in the team, you were putting way too much pressure on yourself and that often lead you to sleep awfully. The only thing on your mind during these moments, was to seek comfort towards the only person that you trusted since your childhood : Cloud.

Cloud was used to you knocking at his door, he already knew the reason why, as he opened his door to see your trembling figure. You held your favorite plushie in your right hand, that Cloud started to know all too well, and your face silently asked if you could sleep with him. Cloud always tried to keep his usual cold demeanor when he saw you like this but how could he refuse anything to you when he saw you silently pleading for comfort ? You were rubbing your eyes sleepily as Cloud gently took you by the arm to guide you to his bed, making you lay down and putting the covers back on you before joining you on the other side of the bed.

At first, when you would come to him in similar circumstances in the past, Cloud slept with his back facing you, in hopes that you wouldn’t notice how flustered he felt in your presence. But it was different now, Cloud no longer felt embarrassed as he faced you, his eyes softly looking into yours as a ray of moonlight shined through his curtains to highlight your now calming features. Hesitantly Cloud reached out to carefully let his thumb caress your cheekbones.

« Feel better ? »

You nodded at him as your eyes closed at the feeling of his comforting gesture, almost leaning into his touch, as Cloud’s gaze never left your face. His eyes dreamily admired every details of your face and body, how your furrowed brows slowly eased, the way your breathing became calmer, as a small smile, that only Cloud could notice, started to make its way on your lips and your fingers that silently reached to grab hold of Cloud’s clothes, making the both of you even closer. Cloud quietly chuckled at you as he murmured to himself.

« You know, I wonder why you keep on trying to sleep in your own room if my bed is that comfier »

You halfway opened your eyes to look at him with a smile.

« Is that an offer Cloud ? »

He looked the other way as he thought about it.

« More or so »

Every time the two of you were sharing a moment together, your bond would strengthen, the words exchanged would get nicer and the gestures more lovely. Cloud grew very fond of you, as did you with him, it was very much obvious to everyone.

As your gaze started to linger on his face, alternating between his eyes and his lips, the room faded into a comfortable silence, Cloud’s eyes mirroring yours.

You were the one to initiate something. Your body came closer to his, sharing his warmth as your left hand delicately rested on his cheeks, caressing his skin as your face was inches away from his. With the proximity, you shared the breath of one another and you looked back at Cloud’s eyes to see if he was okay with this. The answer was more than obvious as his gaze lingered on your own lips. His right hand placed itself on your jaw as his mouth found yours into a soft shy kiss that grew into more small kisses. Cloud didn’t find the will to stop kissing you nor did he wanted to. Your kisses were as shy as his as you just enjoyed the intimate moment you were sharing with him.

Cloud’s kisses became needier after a few minutes as his right hand hesitantly went to hold your waist as he squeezed it gently, making you let out a little gasp out of suprise. Cloud took advantage of it and curiously put his tongue into your mouth, the new sensation making Cloud softly moan into your mouth as he gripped your waist just a bit tighter. As Cloud’s breathing and yours became slightly heavier, you broke the kiss for a moment as lovely gazes were exchanged.

Your curious lips went to pressed sweet open mouthed kisses on the column of his throat, making Cloud sigh in appreciation before he took your face in his hands to make you look back at him. He desperately needed to feel your lips on his once again, like you held the answers to all his questions. His kisses were more intense and warm than before but still held the affection that he felt for you. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were your mouths almost making love to each other and the little gasps that slipped between kisses. After a moment the kisses exchanged started to get lighter, almost like a feather-like touch. Cloud’s hand gently caressed your jaw as he slowly covered your face in kisses, making your smile grow in affection. A kiss was placed on your forehead, between your brows, on your nose, cheeks, on the tip of your left ear and a last one on the corner of your lips.

You closed your eyes as sleep was starting to envelop your body in a soothing embrace, a content smile still lingering on your face as Cloud put a stray lock of hair behind your ear. He whispered to you with gentle eyes, as his nose playfully rubbed with yours before Cloud’s arms enveloped you protectively, like he was guarding his most vulnerable treasure.

« Sleep well »

That night you slept without any nightmares in your mind but you weren’t the only one that slept soundly, it was one of the first nights Cloud didn’t have nightmares as well, as his form didn’t let go of yours.

[yourfavpasifikacreator]

Another ^^

Clarisse x Fem Child of Aphrodite reader who is basically a copy of Clarisse but doesn't really like fighting. The Regina George of the camp (but calmer lol) She and Clarisse are partners in crime who are dating.

But she's like really really soft with clarisse, can't even bring herself to say no to her most of the time. Seeing her through rose tinted glasses

- Marshmellow :]

A/n: hii I loved this request sorry it took so long for me to do

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader

you and Clarisse were two of the most dangerous people to mess with in the camp like two partners in crime your mother gifted you rose-tinted glasses and you always thought your eye color was very ugly you had violet eyes.

you two were sitting on top of your bunk bed you had the top bunk bed decorated with a red rose color your mother's favorite color.

"y/n?." Clarisse said softly speaking to you moving her beautiful curly hair to the side.

"yeah?" you said softly smiling at her the ray of light coming into your cabin a shining in your face was like Cupid shot an arrow at Clarisse's heart.

"Why do you always wear those glasses?" she responded curiously

you sighed you really didn't know if she'd still like you if you told her the truth but her beautiful yet deadly look in her "Well, my mom gave these to me.." that wasn't fully true but then she put her hand on top of yours you felt like you could melt it was comforting knowing that she cared about you.

"look y/n I'm not going to judge you or look at you any way different," she said with such kindness in her heart you could feel it.

"what if I just showed you my eyes?" you said feeling some sort of confidence she looked at you smiling a just nodded "Okay, here" You slowly took off your glasses.

Clarisse just gasped a stroked your face near your eyes "Your eyes, must be a gift from the gods they are so beautiful, why do you keep them hidden away if there that pretty...?" she said so confused staring into your eyes her gaze is as soft a sweet like cotton candy.

"I never thought anyone would find me beautiful with eyes like this, well until I met you...?" your heart was filled with Clarisse's beautiful words.

"Don't worry, sweetheart whoever speaks like that to you I will make them pay" you giggled as she kissed your forehead "It's actually 'we' "

you said smiling as you held her hand softly

[raekensluver]

whispers in the wind

description: you take a walk outside one day after the tragic events of the hogwarts war, and reminise about fred and his undeserving ending.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of the hogwarts war, fred's canon death, slight survivors guilt, r has a scar on her cheek from the battle.

song rec: francis forever by mitski- " i look up at the gaps of sunlight, i miss you more than anything."

w.c: 950+

an: hnngh, another song got me in a chokehold and i had to write something based off it.

you step outside of the burrow, the warmth of the sun wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, but it does nothing to soothe the cold ache in your heart. It's been exactly nine days since fred's laughter had filled these very grounds, and now, all you're met with is a deafening silence, broken only by the distant chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves whispering secrets to each other. the vibrant shine of your hair seems to have lost its luster in the wake of his passing, and you feel like a ghost wandering through a world that's lost its color. your eyes are drawn to the horizon, where the sun is playing peek-a-boo with the tree line, casting long shadows that stretch out like arms reaching for something just out of grasp.

the twin's room, once a bastion of laughter and camaraderie, is now a silent tomb. the door remains closed, a stark reminder of the unspoken pain that lingers within. every day, you hear the muffled sobs and the occasional outburst of rage from george, but for the most part, the only indication of life is the soft glow of light that seeps through the cracks. meals are left outside his door, untouched and growing cold. the twins' mischievous pranks are a thing of the past, replaced by a palpable heaviness that sits in the very air you breathe. the burrow feels like a ship without a rudder, adrift in a sea of grief, with no map to guide you to calmer waters.

you decide to escape the oppressive atmosphere for a while and go for a walk. you amble through the garden, passing the gnome pebbles that now lay still and the plants that seem to droop with sadness. the sun kisses your cheeks, but it feels more like a gentle nudge of encouragement rather than a warm embrace. as you near the end of the garden, you spot a familiar path that you and fred used to take on your adventures. it's tree-lined, with the sun peeking through the canopy in patches that dance across the dirt as the branches sway in the breeze. you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of earth and leaves, and begin to walk.

you miss the way fred could make you laugh with the silliest of jokes, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mischief. you miss the comforting weight of his arm slung around your shoulders, the way he'd whisper sweet nothings into your ear that somehow felt like everything. you miss his enthusiasm for the most mundane of things, turning a simple walk into an epic quest for the perfect stick to poke at things with. as you stroll down the path, you imagine you can almost hear his footsteps beside you, the rustle of leaves echoing with his laughter. but when you look over, there's only the empty space where he should be, and it hits you like a punch to the gut. you'll never again feel his hand in yours, never share another secret whisper or inside joke, never see the world through his playful, magical eyes.

the ache in your chest swells until it feels like it might consume you whole. you miss his fiery spirit that could brighten even the darkest of days, the warmth of his smile that could melt away your worries. you miss the way he'd challenge you to be braver, to live louder, to love deeper. every tree, every stone, every dappled ray of sunlight is a silent reminder of the joy he brought to your life, and now, the stark reality that you'll never experience it again with him at your side. it's as if the very essence of your existence has been torn in two, and you're left trying to navigate a world that seems to have lost its color and meaning.

you pause, reaching up to gently trace the deepening scar on your cheek, a grim souvenir from the battle's chaos. the skin is still tender, a constant reminder of the moment when the wall had exploded, the moment when fred was taken from you. you remember the searing heat, the deafening roar, the sudden weightlessness as you were thrown back. and then, the silence. the world had gone mute except for the ringing in your ears and the distant wails of those who had been hurt or lost. it's a scar that tells a story of pain and loss, but also of survival and resilience. it's a battle scar, a testament to the price you paid for the world's freedom.

as you make your way back to the burrow, your thoughts drift to the life you had before, the life where fred's laughter was a constant melody in the background. you recall the countless hours spent in the kitchen, trying to perfect a new joke or prank together, his brown eyes alight with excitement as he whispered the latest idea. the burrow feels like a different place now, like a book with a torn page, forever changed and never to be whole again.

as you open the door to the kitchen, your heart skips a beat. for a fleeting moment, you think you see fred sitting at the table, his hair a fiery halo around his face, his grin wide and welcoming. but as you blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, the mirage fades, and you're left staring at george. his eyes are red-rimmed, his face etched with pain and exhaustion. your hand flies to your mouth to stifle a gasp, the sudden realization crashing over you like a wave. it's not fred. it's never going to be fred again.

[catnipaddictt]

Anakin being soft?

thank you for the request! this is super short (darn writers block) but hopefully it captures your vision <3

Five more minutes

anakin x gn!reader

synopsis: mornings with anakin

wc: 0.3k

tw: nothing, just fluff

The first signs of morning were shining through the curtains as you slowly woke up. An arm not belonging to you pulls you tighter as your boyfriend speaks behind you “not yet.” A warm face pushes itself closer to your neck and you feel a content sigh. This time of morning was your favourite; there was nothing better than waking up to this. Anakin was basically a human hot-water-battle, meaning you were never cold, which was helpful in the brisk morning. And today was no different. You could practically see the heat radiating off him, not that you were complaining. 

Turning in his embrace you place your head against his chest, he moves to accommodate the new position. “You should probably get up” your grumble being muffled by his figure. “Probably” he replies softly, running his fingers through your hair, “but I would much rather prefer to stay here.” He pulls the covers up with his other arm, making sure you are comfortable. A light breeze flutters through the curtains, you must have forgotten to close one last night, and the early light bathes the two of you. Anakin effectively glows in the rays of sunlight, his curls falling around his face in a sort-of halo. 

He readjusts his arms around you before dipping his head to rest it against your own. Anakin was always gentle with you despite what he did as a jedi knight. His calmer side seemed to come out around you, he was more comfortable in your presence than anywhere else. The peaceful moment was ruined by the beeping of an alarm set on Anakin's holo, signalling that it was time to get ready for work. You move to untangle yourself from him, but are met with resistance and large hands pulling you back, “no, not yet” he speaks with a hint of authority, “just five more minutes?” you don’t protest, instead melting back into his embrace “okay”.

if you guys have more request feel free to send them in and I will add them to my list!

[call-me-cheese]

Yooooo always good to see new writers on here

Could you do some hurt/comfort with Charlie and Vaggie (specifically poly chaggie x reader, but if you don't do that, separate is fine), where the reader is in the fight at the hotel and saves Charlie from Adam (in place of Lucifer), but is seriously injured in the process and sort of lost in the chaos. Then, once the angels retreat and things are calmer, Charlie and Vaggie find reader beaten and bloody, practically on death's door, but hanging on as the two try their best to stabilize the reader

But the reader survives at the end because there needs to be a happy ending to it :(

Charlie x reader x Vaggie

A/n: I had rewatched the final episode for 4 times and I will go and cry about it. But I hope you will like it, here is 916 words(if you are interested in it).

Your spear struck Adam's face with a slashing motion, throwing it away from Charlie. You may not have been perfect with polearms, but the time you spent with the Vaggie definitely made sense, usually without incredible strength, you could easily throw an almost 2-meter man away from your girlfriend. The adrenaline in your blood does its job, completely numbing the pain of the wounds sustained in the battle with the exorcists and allowing you to focus your attention on Charlie's defense. Adam was thrown to the side of the impact, and you turned to Charlie, checking how she was.

"How are you, Charlie? I definitely should have hurried." You turned to her, giving her a hand so she could get up.

"Thank you!" said Charlie as she walked up to you, hugging you tightly, and you gave her a gentle pat on the back to make her loosen her grip.

Somewhere in the background, Adam rises and begins to curse both you and Charlie, and you turn to him, walking slowly towards him, leaving one of your girls behind.

"How dare you, wretched accomplice of heaven, touch our ray of sunshine Charlie?!" -- your spear changes its position with lightning speed, the thin shiny blade of angel steel is very close to his body, yes you are not in the best shape, yes you see that Vaggie also needs help, but compared to Charlie, at least she is an experienced fighter and knows about the tactics of angels, so you're probably better off staying close to Charlie.

"Who are you? How many of you are gathered here? Moreover, why do you care so much about her? Okay, devils, you're going to be a piece of cake, haha!" -- Adam stood up, shaking off his clothes and spreading his wings, ready to take off, while you, seeing this, decide that you need to attack before the moment of takeoff, because there he will have an incredible advantage.

You attacked quickly, but despite this, Adama deflected almost all the blows, your imperfect technique, although easy to guess, a few cuts appeared on his mask and clothes. Suddenly, you heard Charlie trying to shout something at you, and you let Adam take off. Charlie called you in case of Lute that tried to attack you from behind to distract you from Adam, but Charlie and Vaggie teamed up and protected you.

"Thank you, darlings," you quickly thanked them and turned your attention back to Adam.

At least you tried, as Adam had already unleashed his magic on you, literally cutting the entire hotel building in half. And if Charlie has Vaggie to catch and hold her, there was no one for you in particular. That is why it was you who fell into the crack between the buildings.

You were lucky, the beams fell above you, which very successfully saved you from other debris, the adrenaline in your blood stopped working, the pain from the injuries came flooding over you and seemed several times stronger than it really was, there was no strength left to move or at least some signal, so all you could do was lie down and hope. Charlie and Vaggie will definitely find you, it can't be otherwise. Occupied with such thoughts, your brain gradually shuts down.

The next thing you feel is a cool, slightly rough hand, you instantly recognize it as a Vaggie's hand that was touching your neck in search of a pulse. Your eyes open a little and are dazzlingly bright compared to the dark silence your brain was in during the faint, contrasting so strongly that it hurts your eyes. You squint, turning away, trying to shield yourself from the light and the sounds around you.

"Honey, she's awake," says Vaggie beside you, and Charlie's shadow instantly blocks out the light, bringing relaxation to your buzzing head. So you try to open your eyes and look around without still fully regaining consciousness. Charlie hugs you, touching several open wounds, which makes you groan in pain. You want to ask about the situation, about the situation with the angels, but as soon as your lips open, all your senses come back to you, you begin to feel dust and dryness in your mouth, the surface of the ground beneath you, destroyed and not at all pleasant, dried up your blood, mixed with angelic blood and other things that fell on you during the fight and, To be honest, you start to want to feel nothing again.

"Shut up," Charlie and the Vaggie tell you at the same time. They also lift you up and transport you to a more comfortable surface at the same time. It is quite pleasant and the lack of constant tension in your body allows you to faint once again.

The next time you wake up, your body is tightly wrapped in bandages and the sensation of pervasive dust that caused incredible sensory disgust is gone. You're in the shade, lying on something soft. There is no sensation of pain either, it looks like you have been fainting for a relatively long time.

"Veggie, Veggie, come here!" -- Charlie is nowhere to be seen, but you can recognize her voice everywhere. You can also hear Vaggie's voice, but you can't make out what she said, she probably answered Charlie.

They hug you, you're sure Charlie is crying because something wet has touched your cheek. You, too, are glad that at least these two dearest people are alive.

So as I already said I hope that you enjoyed it)

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 2

🌅Don’t you dare runaway (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change— Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing, Mention of Blood & Childbirth

Words count: 3.8k

chapter 1 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8

It’s late December, the leaves have left the branches and the last rays of sunlight shine timidly.

It’s late December and Atsumu thinks he might die from fratricide.

“I swear, ‘Samu, I’m sorry-”

“I told ya I needed ya today. For once in yer damn life, I ask for help, and ya can’t even do that," Osamu snaps, his jaw is tightening so much, he feels a tension forming from his neck to his forehead.

Atsumu cringes, on the other side of the call, he tries to lighten the atmosphere. “Stop cursin’, it ain’t that bad.”

“D’ya know how important this is for me?”

The younger twin starts walking around his restaurant in circles. It’s starting to get dark outside, Osamu should turn on the light, but his hands are too busy (holding the phone with his right; clenching his fist with his left).

A tornado of thoughts is invading his mind: how will he manage to get his stocks ready for the beginning of the year? He’s supposed to release the new recipe in two days, but how can he do that when he is out of rice? What if he can’t respect the orders his clients have made? Each question is coming faster than the one before.

“Listen I’m sorry, I really thought I could come but coach called us and with the winter holidays we won’t have a lot of time to practice and the Olympics Games are next year, it’s in Tokyo I really want to-“

“Please stop talkin’ about yer ass, yer just selfish- like ya’ve always been.”

Osamu’s voice is much calmer this time, more than calm, it’s cold. He has stopped walking, his thoughts have slowed down now, he just feels frustrated and angry.

“Selfish? Yer the one who doesn’t want to hire someone to help. That wouldn’t happened if ya were able to trust others but nah, Osamu-sama doesn’t want anyone but him to work in his prestigious restaurant.”

How he is supposed to rely on someone when his own brother cannot do him a favour on the busiest week of the year, the one that is supposed to make his business’ profits grow by two?

He opens his lips to bark back but a sudden wave of fatigue surges in him, “Okay, forget it. Happy new year ‘Tsumu.”

“Wait, let’s-“ Atsumu’s voice is cut short as Osamu hangs up.

The tension in the kitchen crackles like the freezing air outside.

Osamu lets himself fall on a stool in the corner of the room. He sighs heavily, desperate and lonely.

It all started earlier in the day when Kita called him. Osamu immediately felt panic in his former captain's voice and current rice supplier.

“Osamu, I’m deeply sorry, I was supposed to deliver yer order but my sister, she’s gone into labour, and it is not goin’ well. I thought I could stop by Osaka first but she’s strugglin’, she’s losin’ a lot of blood and-“

“Kita-san, it’s fine.” Osamu didn't really register the consequences of the situation at first, but he is not a monster, Kita’s sister seemed to be having a hard time, rice was the least of priorities right now.

“But I was supposed to deliver the bags this afternoon, I know how busy this time of the year is for ya. I’ll make sure to make a discount on this month’s order.”

Osamu smiled a little, “we’ll talk about that later. Take care of yer sister.”

The older man explained to his friend that with all his workers away for the New Year holidays, he had no one else to help him manage. The only remaining solution was then for Osamu to make the trip himself, Kita’s grandmother, too old to travel, stayed behind at the farm.

“I’ll inform her ya or yer brother is comin’, she’ll welcome ya. Please accept my deepest apologise.”

“Thank you, captain, I’ll call ‘Tsumu now, we’ll find a solution.”

He had then called Atsumu, who’d promised to help so that Osamu could stay in Osaka and the restaurant would be open all day tomorrow. But now, with evening falling and no sign of his brother, Osamu's temper is boiling over.

It is quiet, almost peaceful, in Onigiri Miya, still, he can feel a weight pressing down on him and stiffing his muscles. Osamu starts thinking about customers relying on him, the orders he was supposed to have prepared for the next day. He can’t even go to a supermarket since they’re all closed because of the holiday.

The situation is getting out of his hands and Osamu hates that.

The door creaks open. It’s you. Your breath fogs in the cold air as you step inside.

Osamu hears you call his name, once, twice, thrice before you finally catch sight of him.

You stand in the kitchen threshold with a bottle in your hands. He can’t see your fingers under your gloves, but the warmth of the oven makes your cheeks and nose redden a little bit.

“Hey, I wanted to bring you something. My mum made some yuzu juice, and I thought you might like it.” You set the bottle on the worktop; the sound of glass against the wooden surface makes an echo.

“Why is it so dark in here?” You turn on the light and with a teasing voice you tell him, “are you meditating or—"

You don’t finish your sentence; Osamu guesses you decipher the stormy look on his face. He lowers his cap a little as if that would hide his furrowed brows and lips pressed into a tight line. He doesn’t look like the calm, collected Osamu you know, and for a moment, you look like you’re unsure if it’s the right time to be here.

“You alright?” you ask, getting closer to him.

He exhales sharply, letting his hands fall on his thighs. “Not really,” he mutters and checks the time on his phone again. “Kita can’t get the rice to me ‘cause his sister’s gone into labour. Nobody can deliver it for me. Called ‘Tsumu for help, he said he will go but in the end he can’t. Of course, this happens today when I have eight orders to prepare, and a stall to get ready for the Christmas Market.” He clicks his tongue, it’s sharper than the sound of the glass.

You blink, taking in his words. “That’s rough,” you murmur. “But… I’m here now. What can I do to help?”

Osamu looks at you, his expression softening slightly at your offer. However, the weight of everything hasn’t lifted, and he’s unsure how to respond.

“I dunno,” he sighs. “I just need to get this rice, otherwise I’m screwed for the next few days.”

You pause, considering. “Well, how far is it to Kita’s farm?”

“It’s not the distance,” Osamu grumbles, “it’s the timing. The whole week’s been booked out, and with the rush, I can’t just go and leave the shop.”

You nod, leaning against the counter. “Alright, then if we leave now, we’ll come back during the night, and everything will be ready for tomorrow.”

Watching you talk makes his heart feel oddly light. You go to the back room to grab his jacket and hand him, you also put your navy scarf around his neck. You don’t let go of the scarf and bend towards him. The storm that is lying in his veins becomes a delicate summer breeze as soon as you lay eyes on him. Of course, he can rely on you, how could he have forgotten? The two of you have been each other rock and anchor for years. He’s helped you as much as you’ve helped him, always so gently. But what is crazy is that that gentleness of yours seems so effortless. At that moment, Osamu appears incredibly small and stupid compared to you.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

“Ya don’t have to help m-“

Your features harden and soften at the same time, it makes him feels safe and solid again. “Let me help you, please.” You simply answer.

Osamu’s knuckles are tight around the steering wheel, his phalanges even start hurting. His jaw remained clenched. He’s so worked up he barely notices the heavy silence between you two at first.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches you looking outside the window, a quiet sigh escaping your lips.

A sense of guilt surges in him, you made the effort to come with him and he is not showing any sign of gratitude. So, he tries to engage the conversation—it’s usually so natural to talk with you in the car.

“So-hm- how was work today? Aren’t the guys too hard to handle? Did Bokuto force ya to do that TikTok trend again?”

Without looking at him, you reply, your voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. Not with me.”

“I’m not pretendin’, I’m just confused because yer not talkin’. Ya usually like to talk when I drive.” Osamu finally mutters, trying to mask the irritation in his voice, though it’s still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

You chuckle a little and finally turn to him, “I’m fine with the silence too Osamu, as long as we are together, everything’s fine.”

That simple statement makes him swallow his next words. He knows you’re right, in joy and madness, in despair and excitement, you always accept him. He knows that he doesn’t need to put on a brave face around you. But the habit of keeping his emotions in check, especially when things go wrong, runs deep. He also wants to appear composed in front of you so that you know he can always protect you.

You shift in your seat, then reach for your phone and put on some music. You look back out at the passing landscape, your voice a little higher now. “The countryside’s beautiful this time of year, don’t you think? I’ve lived in Hyogo for so many years, but I’ve never really been out here. It’s different from where my family is from up north.”

Osamu listens, though he doesn’t respond immediately. He takes a quick glance at the quiet evening roads and large fields of matcha? Rice? Flowers? It’s too dark to know exactly what is grown here. Still, he wants to enjoy the world through your eyes. To be honest, even he who was born here, never really cared about the landscapes. When his grandmother would take him and his brother on a hike, he wouldn’t complain but he wouldn’t be amazed either. Getting on top of the mountain was fun (especially when he arrived before Atsumu) because it meant he could finally sit down and have a snack. But he hated it when his grandmother asked him to wait and look around. Osamu wanted to eat not stand in front of a still view. “Listen to the wind Osamu-kun, feel the sun on your face. Yer a part of this world too, never forget everything that ya see, everything that ya touch is connected to yer own story.”, his grandmother would tell him, and the boy pretended to understand what she said. Sometimes he would stay a little bit longer to look at the landscapes, what’s so special about them anyway? He would always wonder but even today he is still seeking for the right answer.

His grip on the wheel loosens and the tension in his muscles relieves. You must feel the boy relax by your side because you steal his cap and put it on your head even if he groans. It’s too big for you, “that’s because of my brain, yer not as smart as me.” Osamu concludes with his teasing tone.

“Whatever.” You pout. Cute, he thinks.

He feels a pleasant feeling in his cheeks as his lips form into a smile and almost forgets about the chaotic evening he had just spent.

“Shin-chan told ya were comin, please get inside, ya must be cold.”

Grandma Yumie opens the door to welcome you the second you get off the car. Osamu wonders if she had been waiting on the doorway.

You bow before offering her the bottle of yuzu juice your mother had made (at least, it was useful) and thank her again and again.

“I prepared some tea, it would warm ya up.”

You take a glance at Osamu, probably to ask for his approval. He wouldn’t lie, he wants to take the rice bags, put them in his car and leave as soon as possible. But Kita’s grandmother’s kindness mixed with the need to drink something hot (Decembers are brutal in this region), doesn’t make him think twice. So, he follows her.

Once Osamu passes the entrance and takes off his shoes, he is enveloped by the aroma of something cooking in the kitchen. It smells like meat and mushrooms and seafood; she’s probably making nabe soup, he guesses. His stomach starts to ramble and his mouth to water.

The living room is clean and organised, it almost seems like nobody lives here. At the same time, there’s this present warmth, one that feels lived in. Osamu also notices the small personal touches—the neatly arranged slippers by the door, the delicate vase of flowers on a low table, a stack of freshly folded blankets resting on a chair. It reminds him of home in a way, but quieter, calmer, like time slows down here.

The old lady leads both of you into the kitchen, and Osamu is immediately drawn to the pot simmering on the stove. The scent of nabe is stronger now and his stomach rumbles again, this time louder.

“Sit, sit,” Grandma Yumie insists, motioning to the small table by the window. The view outside is dark, the cold is seeping through the glass, but the heat from inside is stronger. You take a seat, giving Osamu a small smile, your eyes light up when Yumie brings over two steaming cups of tea.

Osamu sits across from you; his eyes start to hurt from the fatigue.

“Would ya like to eat a little bit? I’ll show ya the storage room after.”

“This is so kind of you,” you say, “Thank you for welcoming us.”

Grandma Yumie waves off your gratitude with a warm smile. “Shin-chan spoke very highly of ya both. And it’s no trouble at all. Plus, it’s too cold to send ya away without a proper meal.”

You chuckle lightly, and Osamu notices the way you always seem more at ease in these kinds of settings—around older people, in quieter, simpler environments. You’ve always had that calming effect on him, even when he’s stressed or overwhelmed, like now.

There’s a picture of Shinsuke and his siblings hanging in the kitchen. Yumie tells you the story about that day. Osamu doesn’t listen to her attentively, he simply looks at you.

You fit in this house. Maybe when you’ll get older you could live in a place like this, surrounded by pictures and flowers. You could have a big kitchen and on Sundays Osamu could cook you someth—wait.

Why would you live together?

Osamu almost chokes on his tea when he realises the implication of his thought, Yumie and you turn suddenly to him.

“Are you okay Osamu?” you put your hand on his forearm and the sudden touch makes him back up brutally.

It’s subtle but the man sees your brows furrow a little bit and when your eyes leave his, he immediately regrets his move.

Touch me again, anywhere, but please, touch me, his mind is begging him to say.

But you get up and come back with a glass of water that you hand to him.

You clear your throat and say, “Maybe we should go to the storage room now and eat later.”

“Of course.” Grandma Yumie gets up and the warmth of the house isn’t enough to make up the void your touch has left on his arm.

“Shit.” Osamu curses.

Of course, the gods are against him.

First Kita who can’t do the delivery, then Atsumu letting him down and now his car whose motor seems to be frozen by the frost.

Osamu hates himself for not controlling the fucking weather (it’s snowing, and hard), not controlling the fucking car (he should have listened when his dad taught him mechanics) and above everything else, for putting you and Kita’s grandmother in trouble.

“Let me go and ask our neighbour, maybe ya could use his car.”

“Oba-san.” You say softly, “you should go inside, you’ll catch a cold if you stay in the snow. Osamu and I will take care of it, I can go to his house and ask for help?” Osamu sees your lips shudder, and still, you smile at her.

“Yer such a precious young woman.”

She gives you the instructions (“It’s the first house on the left. Tell him ya come from the Kita’s farm and that yer car doesn’t seem to start. Shinsuke will help him with the harvest this year again.”)

You start running towards the house and Osamu calls your name, “it’s dangerous.” He groans, “I should be the one goin’ there.”

“Don’t worry Osamu-kun, she’s not made of porcelain.” Yumie says gently.

“What if she falls? This is all my problem. I should take care of it. Shit.”

Yumie tilts her head a little bit and looks at him, “there are things that ya can control and some that ya can’t. The kami-sama put obstacles on our road, but it is not for us to destroy or to overcome, it’s for us to walk along them.” She waits a few seconds before continuing, “it’s hard to accept those obstacles on our own. That is why we need each other. Yer friend, she cares a lot about ya, I can tell ya that she cares as much as ya do. Let her walk by your side, treat her as your equal. If ya choose the solitary path, ya’ll never move forward. Whereas she’ll find someone else who wants her by their side. And that person will be very lucky to have her.”

(For a second Osamu believes he is on top of the mountain with his late Grand-Mother.)

Osamu sighs heavily. He waits for her to leave and kicks the wheel in frustration. The force he puts in his leg makes him fall down on his back on the frozen grass.

He doesn’t even complain about the fall, nor he tries to stand up.

He just lies there.

The stars should have been shining bright tonight but instead they’re hidden by clouds.

Osamu just wanted things to be right. He wanted to please his customers, improve his recipes and have a better reputation. What if he loses his restaurant after that?

You’re being too dramatic, just like your brother, you would tell him.

But the thing his, he really wanted to show the world he could make it. Show ‘Tsumu he made the right choice, show his Ma’ and Pa’ they can be proud of their son even if he’s not a world-known athlete, show you he’s someone you can rely on (not like your dickhead ex).

But it’s over now.

“Get your ass off here.”

Your voice resonates into his ears like an order, you sound mad. You never sound mad.

He sits to take a look at your face. It’s hard to see in the dark, but you look as mad as you sound.

“We will have to leave tomorrow morning.” You tell him and the reality hits him in the guts, “It’s too dangerous to take the road now because more snow is coming. The motor needs to warm up so there’s no other choice but to wait. If your car is still like that tomorrow, then the neighbour will let us have his car. It’s a good thing everyone respects Kita here.”

You’re right, again, but that doesn’t help ease the boy’s frustration.

“What?” You ask even though it comes out more like an accusation than a question.

“I’m pissed off.” Osamu feels his ears warm up as he realises how childish he sounds.

“Well, that won’t change anything. Now come inside.”

“I want to stay here a little bit.”

You sigh in annoyance, “And you’ll get sick, and you’ll have to close the restaurant and this time, the only person to blame will be you.”

Osamu thought he would always be the one to look after you. Sometimes you seem so fragile, he wants to build a fort around you and constantly stand guard. He wants to hide you from all the people and horrors that this world has created.

What a fool.

You don’t need him.

Because you already look after yourself. And you do a pretty good job at it.

You’re so much stronger than he thinks.

So, he gets up and runs to catch up with you. You walk a little bit in silence and finally you say playfully, “stop frowning so much or you’ll get wrinkles.”

He rolls his eyes and can’t help but grin.

“What’s on your mind?” You decide to ask him anyway, even though the answer is pretty clear.

Or at least you thought it was.

“This was a shitty day. But I’m happy we shared that shit together.”

Then, “thank you,” he whispers before opening the door.

Osamu doesn’t want to hold back anymore so he smiles, genuinely, wholeheartedly. Perhaps, this way, he can convey what words can’t.

The features on your face soften and you don’t look mad anymore (even though he didn’t know why you were mad in the first place). It’s enough to make his heart at peace.

After helping Grandma Yumie wash the dishes and make the bed, you get ready to shower.

When Osamu comes out of the bathroom, you look surprised (which is weird because you’ve literally spent the day together, so why are you acting like you were not expecting him here?)

He runs his hand through his wet hair awkwardly and mumbles, “I-I took a bath, you can use the water. I hope it’s not too hot though.”

“That’s nice of you.” You clear your throat. His eyes fall on your neck as if instinct had drawn them here. You wear a purple kakeyu that once belonged to Kita’s sister. Purple looks good on you, Osamu thinks (but any colour would look good on you really).

The top of the cloth is loosening a little bit so if his eyes travel a little bit further down, he might see things he’ll regret (well, it’s not the sight he would regret but it’s the fact that he didn’t ask for your permission to do so. But if he were honest, he really wished he could see more. But that’s not the time nor the place.)

He suddenly starts searching for something to distract him, a frame, a stain on the wall, a chandelier. Anything could make it.

“Oba-san just told me Kita's sister has recovered. She had a baby girl, she's very healthy.” You break the silence.

“Well, that's a relief.”

“It is... hm-Have a good night.”

“Yeah, ya too.”

“My bedroom is in front of yours so if you don’t feel good or I don’t know… Well.. just knock.”

“I’ll knock. Sure. Thanks.”

He starts walking to his room and suddenly he is glad his back his facing you now because his face has turned red. Scarlet, even.

(And so is yours, but he’ll never know that.)

Grandma Yumie, who wanted to give you some tea before sleep, decides it’s no use anymore.

Maybe it’s better to leave those two alone, she whispers to herself.

author notes: when my boyfriend read that chapter he told me the beginning was very chaotic and i thought that i should change it but he said it was the point and that it was a good way of showing how frustrated osamu feels haha, idk what you think of that?

anyway that was very random, i hope you liked it :)

Elie

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @teyvatsunsets, @obibiwan

[jazjelspen]

the domestic life [pt.2]

(timeskip in the future/child and parent headcanons/idia backstory spoilers/mostly angst in idia's part)

ever wondered what your future child/children would be like with your favorite dorm leader?

(includes: kalim, vil, idia, and malleus)

Kalim: Two kids. It was immediately assumed that you and Kalim would have more than a dozen little ones running around the halls of your shared home but when Kalim matured and got wiser he instantly knew that he wanted a few kids, mostly because having been the oldest one of a huge amount of siblings in his family he knew how it can be frustrating for children in big families to try to be heard, not only that but he didn't wanna have his children only have a primary caretaker caring for them 24/7 that isn't him or you! He wanted to be as present as possible for every stage of his kids' lives and wanted to celebrate every one of their milestones with a huge parade!

Kalim as a father would be an attentive one, always there to meet his children in the morning and always there to bid them sweet dreams in the night time with you by his side. He's the kind of father that would teach his kids how to take care of the many peacocks, elephants, monkeys, and other animals their family owns as well as playing and teaching them all sorts of games most especially a childhood game that he learned with Jamil, called Mancala. Not only that but with his family's wealth he generally enjoys traveling to certain places with you and his two kids, so that they can get to know the world they live in, in a more personal way than just teaching them with average maps from the house library.

Your first child with Kalim is definitely a ray of sunshine! Literally a copy and paste of Kalim's personality since they are not only extroverted and usually hyped up but they as well are as generous and giving. Speaking of giving, this kiddo loves gifting gifts to friends and family. Whether it'd be a single pretty flower they found in the yard or a small yet somewhat heavy bag filled with authentic gold coins! They just love giving and they unsurprisingly learned this from Kalim himself. They have Kalim's bright red eyes, skin, eye shape, and even eyebrow shape! Meanwhile you gave them locks of your hair color and texture along with any other beauty marks(if you have any). They absolutely love the outdoors which includes physical games/sports and the many animals they try to take care from time to time. As a physical sort of kid they also love learning to dance with Kalim and Jamil to teach them by their side, eventually when they are older they'd probably be a very sharp and talented dancer if they so choose. Overall literally just an adorable ray of sunshine!

The second Al-Asim child is much calmer than their sibling but there is never a day where they don't have a smile on their face. They too love the animals their family owns and even spends more time with them than their sibling does. They also enjoy the smaller things happening around them like watching butterflies hatch from their cocoons, watching a baby bird learning how to fly, or heck just watching fireflies hover in the night sky. They have a particular interest for drawing said animals and insects too(much to uncle Jamil's dismay), from the animals they own, wild creatures going out and about, to even Jamil's pet parrot that they at times feel like they are having real conversations with! They have Kalim's hair color, hair texture, his red eyes, and his skin as well but they also have your nose, eyebrows, and any other beauty marks you may have.

In conclusion to Kalim's part you four are really just a happy family, there are basically few to none arguments happening in the home and if there ever is a disagreement it's usually ended pretty quickly with proper communication. Uncle Jamil is always there to keep them company if ever needed and they do enjoy their time with them too, having connected with them in a more emotional level than Jamil ever has with Kalim in their NRC years.

Vil: One kid. Vil has always thought of the possibility of children in his future during his years in NRC, most especially when you stumbled into his life. Thing was he knew he wanted to start a family when he knew for sure that he did what he wanted to do during his career and more, so it was a bit till you guys were finally gifted a child!

 In the end you two decided on just one child since even if Vil was now at a point where he was happy with his career he still knew he had work here and there and wanted to be as present as possible even though he knew that could still happen with more than one kid he didn't want to take any risks in accidentally neglecting one kid and not the other, in the end you agreed to it since you understood his worries and how demanding his job could be as a famous model/actor. Vil would definitely be a strict parent yet would always try to make sure not to be suffocating or somehow hurt his kid, but he really didn't want them to be failing in any classes or activities on his watch.

Your one child definitely has their father's beauty and grace. Gifted soft locks of blonde hair, sleeked eye shape and face shape from Vil as well as your eyebrow shape, nose, hair texture, and your eye color(even a beauty mark or two if you have any). They definitely were on the more shyer and quiet type, they at times had a hard time making friends but with both of your encouragements they were definitely open to trying their best in socializing. If grace was genetic then your kid certainly got it from their father, since wherever they walked they radiated a kind of glow that Vil himself had... I guess it's just in the Schoenheit blood. 

Then when alone they definitely shined in the arts department, whether it was painting, sculpting, pottery, drawing, dancing, singing, or even make-up and acting like their father, they knew you and Vil had their backs and upmost support. If it were in anything to do with make-up or acting(singing can be included) you can already see Vil slowly teaching his child the basics and more! You can see how Vil shines and smiles just being able to teach his child the true beauty of his craft.

Oh and I can't forget to mention that Vil would certainly be one of the most good-looking parents while picking up his kid from school when he has the opportunity to(he might as well be competing with Azul in the dilf department when picking up their own kids).

Idia: One kid. Definitely just one kid. It was a miracle you two were even able to agree mutually to conceive a child since Idia still has some internalized trauma from the accident with his younger brother, Ortho, as well as his family's blot curse that they will inherit. You understood his worry and you most likely would've come to terms with the fact that you both would've probably never get to have kids, but despite his fear of the same thing that happened to Ortho repeating... his love for you and his wish for having his own future children that he buried with the death of his brother were too strong to overcome now that he was older and wiser, and when it came to the curse he'd work twice as hard to find a cure to rid him and his child of this anomaly they both didn't ask for yet inherited.

 It was an understatement calling him a helicopter parent, as much as he wanted to follow your advice to let the kiddo breathe a bit by having Ortho take a break from following and hovering over your child while he was away at work or at home, he was already waist deep back into his trauma without even noticing. It would get to a point where you and Idia would at times have arguments about this and the breaking point would be when his own child snaps at him and expresses how they feel towards this constant supervision. The kid loves Ortho to death there is no doubt about it but they also just would want some space. In the end this situation would then get some positive progress by Idia by letting them have fun and grow without him or Ortho around, but he can at times get in a panic and slip up-- eventually asking Ortho to supervise from afar for him. He does try to make an effort tho! Just that he doesn't want to lose his only child so soon the way he lost his younger brother.

I want to quickly mention that because of what happened to Ortho Idia would never, and I truly mean never ever let his kid go anywhere close to the proximity of the 'Tartarus' facility. He will let them come to work with him at times but will never let them get too close to that part of the research building.

In the end Idia does indeed stop sending Ortho to look after the kid constantly and does try to calm down more, but hey... a parent will always worry.

You and Idia's only child will most definitely have his bright blue hair of fire that reacts the same way towards emotions the same way Idia's does. They will inherit your eye color, eye shape, nose, and beauty marks(if any) but will inherit Idia's other features such as pale skin(maybe not a white kind of pale, but somewhat of a pale shade), a sharp smile, gloomy exterior, and the genetic eyeshadow and lip color straight from the Shroud family. Their personality lies around the quietness of their father but will also have other more extroverted attributes of yours of any kind. An informative and smart kid that loves making friends and get into conversations with others that think like them. They share their father's interests in gaming and programming which Idia is always there to teach them what he knows with pride.

They also have a bit of a temper but they never stay upset for too long since eventually they know that when Idia is off of any work related things at the end of the week that you three will be able to have the biggest and ultimate game night!

 The other thing that I want to mention once more is that Idia has to worry about the curse he'd eventually pass onto his child. Having to do daily check ups to make sure the curse doesn't get out of hand and hurt them. He's especially consistent in this and as he's working at home or in the S.T.Y.X research buildings for a way to find a cure for this curse, all he can think about is his only child in mind.

Malleus: Four kids. C'mon.. what did you expect fellow reader, with Malleus around there is no way you wouldn't have more than two kids.

Malleus has generally always wanted a big family, not because of his job as now King of Briar Valley having to have a child or more to keep the royal line going but simply because he himself also has been a fan of the beauty that comes with the domestic life. He enjoys the small things like walking along a beautifully set nature path with you, taking you out on your daily romantic outings, gifting you many wagons of pure red roses after a tough day of you adapting to the royal life... but he's also overly enjoyed the more important and bigger things to this such as the birth of his four little dragons.

Malleus as a father is attentive yet has a kind of hands off approach, wanting to see how his children grow and each become their own person as they mature with his and your guidance. Despite this there are times when he is overprotective of where they head off to and how far it is since he still has the underlying tendency to want them nearby at all costs, but he has self-restraint and knows the value in them venturing off on their own at times. Even so, he knows that if he's ever in a hitch he can always rely on Lilia for advice as he's experienced in the caring of children.

First Draconia kid to mention off the bat straight up has Malleus's intimidating aura, their neutral face seems to always be in a scowl kind of expression, they have a natural cold and aloof demeanor, eyes shaped in a way that seems judgemental, horns, fangs, and ears from their father and to tie it all up they also have their father's piercing green eyes. So clearly it would be somewhat inevitable that they would be somewhat feared and avoided like how their father was back then, issue is that those who ran away would miss out on the most kindest and most gentle half fae child ever! This kid's personality is the complete opposite of what they look like and in all honesty is a complete extrovert, they also adapted some of your own habits and traits too. Some contributions you've given to your child is your hair color, hair texture, eyebrows, nose, beauty marks(if you have any), and face shape. They have small interests in nature and the arts and generally get along with a lot of the animals and local children that look past their first impressions of them in the kingdom.

Second Draconia kid looks like the spitting image of you, they inherited all of your strong and delicate features. Malleus likes to mention at times that they look like a mini you with the way their eyes are shaped and colored as yours, share the same nose and lip shape, inherited your smaller features such as beauty marks(if any) and eyebrows, even their hair color and texture is incredibly similar to yours! Only exceptions are the fangs, ears, and horns given by Malleus. They have interests in anything strategic and physical which leads them to spend a lot of time with their uncles Silver, Sebek, and Lilia(secretly calls Lilia 'grandpa' tho) since their way with the sword is impressive and advanced for their age. An expressive young one but can have an underlying temper if they don't reach their one high self-expectations. Nonetheless, you and Malleus are always there to keep them from pushing themselves way too hard.

Third little dragon is a balanced mixed of you and Malleus this time. They share eye shapes, eyebrows, hair color, and hair texture from Malleus but eye color, lip shape, face shape, and beauty marks(if any) from you. They only exception is the horns, ears, and fangs. They share common interests with Malleus such as liking gargoyales, exploring ruins, and playing a few small stringed instruments that Malleus has taught them. They have most of your personality traits and habits as well but otherwise they do get along with Malleus the most(don't worry your kid still loves you to death!). They are kind of quiet and reserved, often keeping to themselves and only intend on exploring said interests. Out of all four kids they are definitely the most average and "normal" out of everyone.

Last but not least, this kid is a spitting image of Malleus, the same way the second one is the spitting image of you! They share Malleus's horns, ears, fangs, eye color, hair color, hair texture, eyebrows, eye color, and lip shape as him, exception of the eye shape and any beauty marks(if any) from you. The more cheerful one of the Draconias aside from the first child, they also seem to be an indecisive kid as they jump from interests to interests. They do share some traits you have as well, and they seem much more softer than their father. This kid would definitely find and settle on an interest at some point though, which would definitely be in technology surprisingly enough. They wouldn't be all huddled up in their room all the time but they know how to use it way better than Malleus does in all his years of living. I'd also like to think that in the future this kiddo would be a kind of romantic person the older they get, seeing as how Malleus has treated you with the upmost respect and love as they grew up. Which is also likely for your other children too but mostly this particular one who I believe would also enjoy/believe in the fairytales that exist in the world of Twisted Wonderland.

[wizardofrozz]

Promise?

Hunter x fem!reader, Tech, Phee, and Omega

Word Count: ~4.8k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, smut (this is basically just filth), slight exhibitionism, Tech being a menace

A/N: This fic has killed me in more ways than one but I’m excited to finally share it. The prompt "Don’t make promises you can’t keep. So beg.” came from @homie-one-kenobi and I want to thank her and @techs-feral-wife and @a-single-tulip again for all their help with this ❤️ 

You had come to know the many sides of Hunter over the years. You knew Sergeant CT-9901, the fierce and loyal soldier of the Republic. You knew Sergeant Hunter, the leader and brother his siblings needed to make it through battle after battle. You knew him as a mercenary, struggling with his place in a galaxy overrun with injustice. More recently, you got to know Hunter as a father, watching the way Omega’s presence started to heighten his affectionate side. But this new side of Hunter was doing something to you.

You truly hadn’t meant for things to escalate beyond innocent affection. But then a look lasted a little too long, your hand lingering on Hunter’s lower back when you brushed past him, standing just a little too close when you spoke. They had been unconscious movements, faint urges to be close to him or to just admire his profile in the warm sunlight until the tension was almost unbearable. There was something about being on Pabu that made it feel impossible to keep your focus and hands off of Hunter. 

He seemed calmer, shoulders looking less tense and his smile lingering for longer than normal. And now, standing at the kitchen sink after cleaning up dinner, you found yourself admiring him again. Hunter had his back to you, his hair moving with the breeze rolling off the ocean as he stared out at the dying rays stretching across lower Pabu. It had become a routine for him recently, leaning against the half-wall outside the small house just as the sun started to dip below the horizon.

It may not have been as apparent to anyone else, but you could see that there was a tightness about his shoulders, something you recognized as a sign that something was bothering him. You moved toward the doorway, pondering if you should interrupt him when the sound of hurried footsteps stopped you short. You glanced down just as Omega appeared beside you, a bright smile on her face and you weren’t sure if you were going to like whatever was going to come out of her mouth. 

“I’m gonna go night fishing with Wrecker, okay?” That wasn’t what you were expecting but it was better than her coming to tell you Wrecker had knocked a light fixture off the low ceiling…again. 

“Fine by me, kiddo,” you replied with a smile. Despite still having his back to the dwelling, you knew Hunter had heard her and when he didn’t move to object, you winked at the young clone. “Catch me something big.” 

“Okay!” Omega cheered, barely finishing the word before she took off in the direction of the docks. You watched her with a soft smile, silently thanking Wrecker and Phee for giving you a few precious hours of privacy with Hunter.

“I hope you have your comm!” Hunter called, turning his head in Omega’s direction. She was too far for you to hear her response but you assumed the answer was yes when Hunter stayed quiet. As the last wisps of light disappeared, Hunter turned to face you, the gentle breeze tussling his hair and blowing a few strands into his eyes as he closed the short distance.

“You okay?” you asked softly, lightly trailing your hand down the curve of his bicep. Hunter made a soft rumbling sound in response as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and tucked his face against your neck. The soft gesture had you melting, your arms wrapping around his narrow waist; you went still when his chest expanded with a long, deep breath.

“You sweat more here,” he noted, his voice muffled against your skin. Your lashes fluttered, your brain scrambling to understand where the conversation was going while simultaneously trying not to get offended by the comment.

“Well, yeah, it’s a tropical island, Hunter,” you huffed, brows pinching together in confusion. You pulled away from him, expecting to meet his eyes only to realize he wasn’t looking at your face. The intensity of his stare had you taking stock of your body, realizing a second too late that you could feel a bead of sweat rolling down the side of your neck. It was nearly impossible to differentiate between his pupils and his irises as they followed the curve of your neck. 

Hunter closed the gap again, hugging you close as the tip of his nose came to rest just under your ear. Your mouth dropped open at the slow drag of his tongue across your skin, retracing the path your sweat had just taken. 

“Did I say it was a bad thing?” he breathed, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. The air left your lungs in a quiet wheeze, every nerve ending suddenly hyper-aware of Hunter pressed up against you. You gasped, stumbling over your feet when he started walking you backward into the blessedly empty house. “Wanted to get my attention today, huh?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, curling your fingers around his belt.

“Must’ve thought you were cute with all that teasing today too,” he huffed, trailing kisses down the length of your neck.  

“I wasn’t teasing,” you argued, knowing damn well what those leading touches did to him. “I just like being close to you.” The faint graze of teeth against your jaw made you shiver, your grip on his belt tightening.

“Don’t play coy, sweetheart,” he chided lightly, his lips barely brushing against the side of your neck. You jumped slightly when your tailbone bumped into the edge of the dining room table, Hunter crowding you against the cool stone slab. His arms fell away from your shoulders, dropping down to curl around your waist as he pressed his face against your neck again, breathing deeply.  

“Won’t happen again,” you sighed, doing your best to calm your racing heart, “I promise.”

“Mm don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Hunter hummed, kissing his way across your exposed shoulder. “Clearly you wanted something from me.”

“Well, I always want you,” you replied, letting your head roll back as he left a mark at the base of your neck. A soft moan slipped out when you rolled your hips, searching for any kind of friction.

“Tell me exactly what you want, mesh’la,” Hunter encouraged, pressing the outline of his cock into your hip.

“Easy,” you chuckled a little breathlessly, “your cock.”

“Well, if you want it, really want it…beg for it.” His voice raised goosebumps across your skin, the husky edge making your cheeks burn. Begging wasn’t a new request for you or him, but you had been wound so tight all day, aching for the tiniest bit of his attention. Now that you had it…you weren’t sure how long you could play this game. 

Hunter kissed up your neck and across your cheek, only to pause at the corner of your mouth, one of his hands moving to cup the back of your head. He kissed you with an urgency that made his earlier threat lose some of its weight and you almost giggled. Hunter put on a good show, years of learning to manage his senses would do that, but you could still tell he was struggling. The faint tremor in his hands, the harshness of his breathing, and the subtle movement of his hips gave away just how tightly wound you had managed to get him.

So of course, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try and sway him, carefully moving one hand to his belt buckle. A strong, warm hand clamped down around your wrist, stopping you just short of your goal, your frustrated whine morphing into a gasp when he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“You know the rules,” Hunter warned, bumping his nose against yours but pulling away when you tried to capture his lips again. You stifled an exasperated sigh and let your head drop, resting your forehead against his chin as you tried to catch your breath. Now that Hunter wasn’t consuming every one of your senses, you were keenly aware of the hard line of his cock pressing into your leg. You were almost mad at yourself for not exploiting his weakness for your mouth. 

“I do,” you agreed, managing to coax him into one more languid kiss. Hunter sputtered when you suddenly broke the kiss, but it quickly morphed into a huff of surprised laughter when you sank to your knees. You didn’t give him the chance to argue, expertly unclipping the straps around his thighs before reaching for his belt buckle. Movement above your head had you looking up to find Hunter’s eyes locked onto your face, pupils wide and endless as he tossed his vambrace onto the table behind you. 

The belt dropped to the floor with a thud, and there was a moment where you were almost disappointed that you wouldn’t get to undress him yourself. The soft gasp he let out when you finally got his pants undone somewhat made up for it. You pushed his pants off, waiting until he kicked them aside before sitting forward on your knees, your mouth watering as you let your tongue loll out, putting on a show. The response was immediate and exactly what you wanted. Hunter’s jaw went slack, a harsh exhale whistling past his lips as he gripped the base of his cock, and your eyes caught the metallic twinkle of his piercing just under the head before he was sliding it through the saliva pooling on your tongue. The groan that tore from his chest was straight out of a wet dream, sending a chill down your spine. You may have been the one on your knees, but Hunter was putty in your hands.

“You–you did this on purpose,” Hunter rumbled in between pants. His breath hitched when you pulled your tongue back, closing your lips around him. You hummed in response, startling a sharp cry from Hunter, his hand shooting up to grip your hair, gently coaxing you to take more of him. You looked up the length of his body, finding his head thrown back, and admired the taunt lines of his throat that flexed when he swallowed. 

As if he could feel your gaze, his head dropped down, chin almost resting against his heaving chest. You paused when he threatened to hit the back of your throat, forcing yourself not to gag as you stared up at him with half-lidded eyes. He was the embodiment of sin like this: the muscles of his abdomen clenched and unclenched sporadically, his inked chest jumping with stunted breaths, and the dim light threw shadows over the tattooed side of his face, making his features look sharper. Staring down at you like this, Hunter looked dangerous, almost predatory. 

You breathed deeply through your nose before lazily starting to bob your head, pausing long enough to gently run your tongue over the piercing on the underside of his cock before sinking back down. Hunter’s quiet groans quickly escalated into whimpers, each rough, unhindered sound made your clit throb, begging for even the slightest bit of friction.

The hand fisted in your hair loosened and you slowed your pace, eyes following his hand as it came down to cup your jaw. Your exhale rushed through your nose when his thumb traced your lower lip, spreading the spit leaking from the corner of your lips down your chin. The look in his eyes was addicting, the genuine wonderment mingling with adoration almost made you falter. You suddenly wanted nothing more than to watch him come undone like this, spilling down your throat as his face twisted with pleasure.

Hunter’s half-lidded eyes were still trained on you, although he didn’t seem to notice your hand moving. His thighs tensed when you gently cupped his balls, but you didn't stop there. You very lightly press on the skin just behind them, causing his mouth to drop open, letting out an involuntary whine.

“St - stop,” he keened, a high, sharp sound you weren’t aware he could even make. You froze, blinking a few times as he panted, jerking his hips back until he slid out of your mouth. There was a moment of silence, Hunter struggling to catch his breath, leaving you to watch the way his cock throbbed in his hand.

“Why’d you stop?” you prodded, your voice sounding rougher than usual. A smirk lifted the corner of your lips, knowing that he was seconds away from spilling down your throat, something he usually indulged in.

“Why do you think?” Hunter grunted, sucking in a deep breath as he pushed his bandana higher, keeping his hair out of his face. Once his impending orgasm had seemed to recede, his hand started to move in slow, smooth strokes; it was pretty fucking close to torture for you and he knew it. You tried to lean closer, parting your lips in hopes of enticing him enough that he’d play nice; his free hand snagged your jaw, keeping you just out of reach. 

“Hunter,” you whined, looking through your lashes. It was clear that his restraint was slipping, given away only by the way he chewed on the inside of his cheek. It felt like lava had replaced your blood, pumping a dizzying heat through your veins, your clit aching for any kind of attention, although you knew how this game went. Your plan wasn’t working in your favor, at all, but you were too invested now, no matter how borderline painful it was. 

You gently pushed against his hold on your face, an excited shiver racking your body when his grip gave a tiny bit. That dark, searing stare you had seen a thousand times cut through you, almost making you back out but you had started this. Hunter arched a brow when your tongue poked out again, his expression growing more intrigued, allowing you to move closer. Finding that little piece of metal was muscle memory at this point, the tip of your tongue flicking over the bar under his skin. Hunter choked on a gasp, his hips jerking forward in a desperate, unconscious movement that pressed the bar into your tongue. 

You traced the shape, looking through your lashes to watch the dark ink covering his chest shift with each ragged breath. A hand suddenly gripped your hair and you caught the warning in his dark gaze. He partly lifted, partly guided you to your feet, immediately pressing you into the edge of the table. There was a pause, his parted lips hovering just out of reach, a wild look in his eyes. 

He held your gaze, daring you to look away as his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, pushing the fabric higher until it bunched up around the band of your bra. You automatically lifted your arms, shivering when he hooked his thumbs under the band, and slowly pulled the two pieces of fabric up over your head, carelessly tossing them aside. A shiver shook your shoulders, sending you shuffling closer to him, hoping to steal some of his warmth, bringing a half-smile to his face. 

“Gorgeous,” Hunter breathed, one of his hands cupping your breast. He caught your lips again before lightly tweaking your nipple, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth when your jaw dropped open. Each movement was precise as you slowly came unraveled, pushing you toward what he wanted in the first place. 

Your body acted on instinct, your stance widening when Hunter pressed closer. The position was all wrong but you were too caught up in the feel of his hands on your skin to notice. Your hands came to rest on his chest, your nails sinking into muscle when he slid his cock between your thighs. The slow drag against your folds forced a slightly frustrated groan past your lips and your hips subconsciously matched his rhythm. He coated himself in your arousal, his breathing getting heavier with each lazy thrust until the need to have him inside you was almost maddening.  

“Hunter,” you whispered against his lips. But you already knew the pleading tone in your voice wouldn’t be enough. “Please.”

“Please what, sweetheart?” he pressed, tracing the shape of your nipple at an infuriatingly slow pace. 

“Quit being an ass,” you whined, bumping your forehead against his. 

“Should’ve thought about that earlier,” he said with a faint shrug, moving away from your mouth to kiss along your jaw. He hesitated near your ear, sliding his free hand up your side to gently knead your other breast, humming when you pressed into his touch. “Come on, sweetie. Give me what I want and I’ll bend you over this table and fuck you like I know you’re aching for.” 

“Fuck,” you hissed, accepting that it was time to swallow the tiny bit of pride you were hanging onto. Hunter’s touch was feather-like as he trailed his fingers down your stomach, the anticipation making you dizzy. Your entire body tense when he pressed the pad of his thumb directly onto your clit, just holding it there and you waited for the starburst of pleasure only for nothing to happen. The pressure wasn’t enough, acting solely as a reminder of what he wanted from you and you almost wanted to cry in frustration. You arched into his hand, attempting to grind against him one last time before giving in. “Please, Hunter. I want to forget everything that isn’t your name. I want to sit down tomorrow at breakfast and remember the way you felt inside me.”

He groaned against the curve of your neck, the feather-like graze of his teeth acting as just a taste of what was to come. “Oh, you filthy thing,” he breathed, tracing your jugular with the tip of his nose, “bend over for me. Let me see how bad you want it.” 

You were clumsy in your desperation, your arms hitting the tabletop a little harder than you had intended. You expected to feel Hunter at your back, strong hands gripping your hips, but there was nothing but cool, evening air. After a few more seconds, you looked over your shoulder but he wasn’t looking at your face. His attention was fixated on your glistening pussy, dark eyes watching it desperately clench as he lazily stroked himself. Seeing him pleasuring himself at the sight of you made the trembling you had kept under control become known. 

“Hunter,” you whined, pressing your chest closer to the table, and pushing your ass out. 

“You look good like this,” he mused, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smug smirk. There was a charged silence that followed as you tried not to fidget under his heavy gaze. Just as you were about to turn your head, the sound of him spitting made you freeze, your lashes fluttering until you heard the sound of his spit-slicked hand returning to its previous slow pace. 

“Yeah, well I’d look a lot better with your cock inside me,” you bit back, the bone-deep need to feel him making your teeth grind in frustration. You met his eyes over your shoulder, batting your lashes and it seemed to work when his jaw flexed. Hunter held your gaze as he closed in on you, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in your scent. 

“Can’t say I disagree, cyare,” he rumbled, his hand following the curve of your spine. The grip on the back of your neck made you freeze, not even daring to breathe too deeply as he leaned over you, the length of his cock sliding against your soaked folds. Your mouth fell open in a soundless cry when the blunt tip pushed in and Hunter paused, a stunted gasp rushing past his lips when you tensed. The next movement had your breath catching, the brush of metal making your knees weak.

“Every time,” Hunter chuckled breathlessly, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. He didn’t speed up, splitting you open at an agonizing pace and all you could do was take it. A shaky breath puffed against your shoulder when his hips met your ass, his teeth grazing your shoulder. Your eyes rolled back when the rigid metal of his piercing kissed your g-spot and you trembled under his weight. Using the grip on the back of your neck, he pulled you off the table, making you suddenly aware of how soothing the stone had been on your sweltering skin. 

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pressing himself even deeper, forcing a sound out of you that was somewhere between a gasp and moan while his other arm curled around your chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder, enticing him to cup one of your breasts. A stillness settled around you, leaving you with no option but to just stand there, stuffed and shivering with anticipation. Your inhale synced with his, the only warning you had before Hunter started to roughly grind against your ass. 

You moaned softly, turning your face toward him, panting against his cheek, and forcing your eyes open when his thrusts slowed considerably. It took a few seconds for your eyes to focus, your lashes fluttered when you noticed that his attention was fixed on something across the room. 

“What’s wrong?” you whispered, doing your best to ignore the head-spinning girth of his cock filling you. 

“Look,” he breathed, coming to a stop seated inside you. It took more effort than you wanted to admit to lift your head, letting it roll lazily as you searched for whatever had his attention. It took a few seconds of searching the room before your eyes landed on the window looking out over Pabu. The reflection was dark, barely more than an outline, but you were suddenly just as transfixed as Hunter. You could see the outline of his broad shoulders, the way he wrapped himself around you, his silhouetted face hovering beside yours.

“Mm, we look good,” you purred, grinding back against him as you reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair. You watched his eyes slam shut, his brows pinching together with a soft moan. You looked past your reflection at the twinkle of lights, a thought hitting you. “I wonder if anyone can see us?” Hunter’s head dropped slightly as he throbbed inside you, sending a chill racing across your skin. Of course he liked that idea. 

“I want you to watch too,” Hunter ordered softly, jerking his hip and punching a choked-off moan out of you. “I want you to watch yourself cum on my cock.” Your playful undertone fizzled out, his command rumbling against your back. And who were you to disobey an order like that? 

“Yes, sir,” you breathed, keeping your eyes glued to your shared reflection. Hunter growled against your ear, jerking his hips forward until the barbell on the underside of his cock pressed deliciously into your g-spot. 

“Cheeky today,” he mused, holding himself perfectly still for a moment before pulling out to just the tip. “Keep your eyes on the window, sweetheart.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, starting a measured pace that had you seeing stars with every thrust. Keeping your eyes open took every ounce of brainpower you could spare as your quiet gasps turned into pathetic mewls. You watched Hunter’s lips pull back in a snarl before his head dropped onto your shoulder, muffling his groans. 

“Talk–talk to me, cyare,” he panted, readjusting his grip on your breast to tweak your nipple. 

“Fuck,” you gasped when he pulled your hips away from the table, hitting that devastating spot with expert precision. You scrambled for something to hold onto, your nails digging into the back of the hand wrapped around your waist. Gritting your teeth, you desperately tried to piece together a sentence, anything to express your desires. “I-I want you to cum so hard I can feel you pulsing inside me.” The hand you had tangled in his curls closed, tugging hard enough to startle a whine from the back of his throat. 

“Keep - fuck - keep going,” Hunter rasped, his thrust growing harsher. You tried to catch your breath, forcing your eyes to focus on the faint outline of your bodies. Each snap of his hips made your breasts bounce and you released Hunter’s hair, moving to cover his hand that was still cupping one of them. 

“I-I love…I love your strong hands all over me,” you breathed, squeezing his hand to tighten his grip. You were searching for any bit of stimulation to tip the scales but even the brush of his calloused hands against your sensitive nipple wasn’t enough. You teetered on the edge, doing your best to meet his thrusts, trying to arrange your hazy thoughts when Hunter finally took pity on you. 

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, pressing down on your stomach, “I know you need it.” Blood rushed in your ears, the added pressure on your stomach intensifying the inferno already growing there. You somehow managed to find your target, your back arching when you started frantically circling your clit, chasing the pleasure making the edges of your vision fuzzy. 

“Ah–fuck,” Hunter whimpered, his thrusts faltering as your walls fluttered as the pleasure peaked. “So–so close, please–please cum for me.” The barely concealed desperation in his voice is what sent you hurtling over the edge, your entire body locking up as you sobbed his name. You almost didn’t register his orgasm through the blinding pleasure until the sharp sensation of teeth clamping down on your shoulder snapped you back into your body, another wave of pleasure washing over you. 

It all bled together, white-hot and all-consuming ecstasy as a few tears slipped out from the corners of your eyes. You sagged forward, pulling Hunter down with you until your flushed skin met the welcome relief of the cool tabletop. Hunter managed to catch himself on one arm so he didn’t crush you, his forehead coming to rest against your sweaty shoulder blade. The thought of just melting to the floor occurred to you but his extra weight kept you pinned in place as your legs trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You turned your head enough to bump your temples against his chin in an affectionate little headbutt that earned you a soft, broken laugh. 

Just as you started to regain some semblance of higher motor function, the shrill beeping of Hunter’s com cut through the peaceful silence. You and Hunter snapped to attention, finding his discarded vambrace a few inches away. When he didn’t make a move to grab it you stretched across the table, gasping when his soft cock shifted inside your sensitive cunt. You ignored the exasperated look he sent you, holding the armor in front of his face. He shot you one more unimpressed look before tapping the button, resting more of his weight on you. 

“Huh?” he grunted, clearly expecting one of his brothers. 

“Ah, I take it you’re finished with your procreational activities.” You blinked down at the flashing device, a little surprised to hear Tech’s voice; it took a few seconds for you to register what he had said.

“Tech,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as nervous as you felt, “how did you know that’s, uh, what we were doing.”

“Well, if you had bothered to look out the window, you would have no need to ask,” Tech stated matter-of-factly. Your stomach dropped and you stiffened at the same time Hunter did; he shifted a bit, covering more of your body with his. 

“Get away from the window, Tech,” Hunter all but growled.

“Apologies. The concept that someone could be watching you appeared not to bother you mere minutes ago,” Tech countered, an unusually mischievous tone to his voice that you wouldn’t have noticed if you didn’t know him as well as you did. 

“Tech,” Hunter warned in that special tone he saved just for his little brother. 

“Come on, brown eyes, let them get decent,” was muffled through the com but you recognized Phee’s voice immediately. When she spoke again she sounded closer which you hoped meant she had pulled Tech away. “Oh and don’t worry, we just got here.”

“Wonderful,” you huffed, dropping your head onto the table.

“Goodbye,” Hunter snapped, disconnecting the call with a bit more force than necessary. The silence that followed was tense, Hunter still rigid behind you as you blinked at the lifeless comlink. 

You felt the soft vibration of his laugh against your back first, the sensation growing as the seconds passed until Hunter hid his face against your shoulder. Feeling his amusement only made it harder to contain your own until you both broke. Your combined laughter was breathless and giddy and you leaned into it, savoring the rare moment of unadulterated joy with the man you had grown to love. 

Even if it came about because Tech was an absolute bastard.

Taglist: @starrylothcat @boogiewee89 @rinwritesfics​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​ 

[nervous-trash]

oooh oponion tim (pre crash by Odeshx on ig, other by daisuke_tazuna on tiktok, edited slightly yo be post crash-)

PRE! LINA:

Jimmy - He's okay. Gives me the heebie jeebies. Just, uh, don't tell him that.

Curly - The captain! A bit dense, but very nice to me.

Anya - The nurse. I don't know her that well, but she's very sweet. I wish she'd be a bit calmer, though...

Daisuke - My old friend! Yes, it's been years since I've seen him. I wonder if he remembers me..

Swansea - A grump, but I can tell he has a soft side hidden under there!

PRE! CANON:

Jimmy - Finally, someone who knows about respect.

Curly - She's, er, nice! I'm sure I can get through to her eventually!

Anya - I... I truly don't know her well. She's very deadpan.

Daisuke - Lina! We used to go to the same high-school! I wonder if she remembers me.

Swansea - Just another kid in over her head.

POST! LINA:

Jimmy - FuckinG KILL YOURSEL—

Curly - Like a father to me. Can't tell if it's because they're both essentially corpses or if it's because I'm crazy.

Anya - She works too hard. I'm worried about her. She won't let me take over for her. Please.

Daisuke - Still a ray of sunshine. Even if he tends to blind himself.

Swansea - Still a grouch, but I get it. He's sweet, trust me. Though, I wish he'd stop drinking the damn mouthwash.

Jimmy - My intern. The sole person who listens. I don't know why she avoids me. I'm helping.

Curly - ... (God, I hope she knows better than me.)

Anya - A good kid. I'm just... worried.

Daisuke - I'm glad we've reconnected! I wish it was under better circumstances...

Swansea - Well, she's not entirely useless. I don't like how Jimmy acts with her though.

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