#Her being here is more to show that it's totally possible to make a cute character design that follows Air Nomad beauty standards

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

I do love the expanded ATLA canon, I think it's fun and great, and I'm constantly hoping that they'll bring in stuff from like the rpg into main canon.

But we all have to admit to each other that sometimes the people making stuff for the expanded canon don't really care if what they're making is canon compliant (or even make logical sense), because they know they aren't making stuff for the main canon.

Like Nyanchi's official design, she's not canon compliant at all:

Like she's an Air Nomad nun in training from Roku's time, and nothing about her design but her eye color is canon compliant.

Why's she dressed like that and not in the initiate uniform we know everyone's supposed to wear until they earn mastery. And it's clear from her lack of tattoos she hasn't done that. Why's the front of her hairline not shaved back?

I don't even know if this design is supposed to imply that she dyes her hair. Or if it's actually possible for people to bond closely enough to extremely minor spirits like the dragon fly bunny spirits to experience a physical change.

When the only time something similar has ever happened in primary canon was between Yue and the moon spirit Tui, who was a great spirit in charge of giving all waterbenders their bending. Also it was considered a massive deal for spirits to have tangible bonds with humans like that.

Her design is pretty cute, and I'm sure that's what they were going for, but I just find it completely out of left field and not really suited for the era she's supposed to be from.

If she was a post-convergence Airbender honestly I wouldn't have anything to say. I'd believe stuff like bleach and hair dye to exist in Korra's era, along with a lot of the new Airbenders not having the same cultural ideas of beauty as the original Air Nomads did. Thus choosing not to style them as the Air Nomads did.

But like there's a character from the RPG set in Korra's era who design wise looks far more like she belongs in Roku's era than Nyanchi does.

It's Tsemo:

Like I buy this girl being from Roku's era far, far more than I do Nyanchi. But she isn't, she's from Korra's era, even though she's dressed far more traditionally, and not in the modern Air Nation student uniform.

Anyways Rinzen is the only RPG Airbender, as far as I know, who looks like her art was made with what era she was supposed to be alive taken into consideration:

[natailiatulls07]

your charles x sister! reader fics are so cute! i love them so so so so so so much!! i was wondering if you could write one where charles and his teen! sister get in an argument (mostly his fault) and she’s ignoring him and he has to leave for a race before he can apologise and she still supports him but won’t talk to him and him making it up to her eventually pretty please! i love your work so much !!!

Charles Leclerc x Sister!reader

Summary - The request above :3

Warnings - Arguing and swearing

A/n - Thank you lovie! I feel like I haven't done Leclerc Sister fic in a long while so it's great to be back <3

Masterlist

-

Usually the week before a triple header, Charles likes to spend his free time around family. He feels like it gives him that chance to relax and get back into the right mindset. During this time the family would play board games, catch up on favourite tv shows and catch up on life. 

Charles loves this time. With his formula one schedule and Arthur's schedule, it’s not often that the two brothers can hang out with their older brother and younger sister. They all come together to spend this time as they did before he and Arthur started karting.

However this week something was off. Everyone in the family could see how indifferent Charles was acting. It wasn’t like no one knew why, it was pretty clear why he was acting like this. 

From the start of the season, Ferrari wasn’t having a good time. At least once every race, something went wrong. And Charles was getting the shorter end of the stick, he felt like he was getting totally screwed off in every possible way.

He really tried to not let it affect him but this was his career, without this he’d be nothing. So naturally this was going to crush his self-esteem, his confidence and his calmed headspace.

-

'Charles?' Y/n’s voice broke through the quietness of his stream, everyone watching could see how tense Charles was. The chat, which was going unnoticed by the pair, was speeding down the screen with fans welcoming the younger one of the two. 

username my fav leclerc!! username Y/n I love you username hi Y/nnn username the best leclerc is here yayyy

He stayed silent, barely acknowledging Y/n. 'Charles? Maman made dinner, she told me to come get you' Everyone could see how Charles just rolled his eyes and how he grumbled when she wouldn’t leave. 

There was a beat of silence, the only noise filling the room was the occasional sound coming from his game. 'Charles?' Y/n asked again, confused as to why he wasn't replying.

And then, finally he spoke up. 'God Y/n, can you not see?! I’m busy, fuck off!' It wasn’t often that Y/n saw Charles in this light; heck this was the first time his fans were seeing him in this light. It was as if he had forgotten about all of them having front row seats to his interaction with Y/n.

They could all see the annoyance on Y/n’s face, she wasn’t going to back down just because of one fuck off thrown her way. 'What’s up with you?' She snapped back, her mother raised her not to take shit from anyone - Espercially not her brothers. 'Whatever it is, don’t take it out on me cause I did fuck all to piss you off'

Even after her argument, Charles still couldn’t back down. Funnily enough they have the same mother, so this meant they were taught the same exact thing. He wasn’t going to take shit from her either. 'Do you ever consider that maybe, just maybe, that you are the problem? I come home in the middle of an exhausting season, only for you to come and annoy me just like a fucking child.' He pauses the game and turns in his seat, completely forgetting again that he’s on stream. 'Grow the fuck up.'

The chat is practically flying by now, all the comments shouting at Charles for being so rude.

username what the fuck Charles! username better than any reality tv omfg username don't be rude to my fav leclerc like thattt username this isn't Charles, what is going on???

Y/n bursts into a sarcastic laughter, only infuriating her older brother more. 'Haha you’re so fucking funny! Even you, after being the one who helped me come out of your shadow, can make me feel so shit..'

The way she spat out her words scared Charles, he knew he fucked up. Everyone watching the stream could see how his face paled and how, with a deep frown and tears clouding her eyes, Y/n walked out of the room angerily before vigorously slamming the door.

Chat could see a grimace on his face as Charles' face fell in his hands. A deep sigh could be heard through the mic and then the stream turned black. It ended - Understandable.

-

The days following was icy cold in the Leclerc family, everyone but Y/n had been walking on eggshells. Charles felt like shit, he knew about the shadow behind himself and how it really effected the people around him (Espercially his siblings).

He knew he had to leave for the triple header soon but the thing is he has never left on a bad foot with any of his family and espercially for a long time. His anxiety was riding high.

The evening before his flight to spain, he was sat on the sofa at his childhood home with his mother and Alexandra. 'Fuck..I messed up' Infront of him, Leo was rolling around on the carpet.

Pascale just sighed, she was silently agreeing with her son because she had seen first hand the effects of fame had on Lorenzo, Arthur and Y/n. However on the other hand, she knew that it was harder for him - She just wished he handled the argument better.

'Where is she now?' Alexandras soft voice spoke up, her hand relaxing on top of her partners.

Looking over to the clock, the older women answered. 'Her friends place, I think her friendship group are having a little party you know..' That'd explain the almost eerie silence through the house. 'She'll come around, this won't last long.' A chuckle left the older womens lips. 'Never does..'

If only she knew, Pascale would be eating her words.

-

The next couple of weeks were long and hard for Charles. It seemed like everything had been going incredibly wrong for the guy. Almost every race he was finishing outside of points, the days were long and every time he'd message his little sister, he wouldn't get a reply.

You see Y/n was active on social media and Charles could see this, he could see how she was continuing to attend to her usual activities. Going to her University lectures, doing her little side influencer job and hanging out with friends.

He had heard from both his older brother and his mother how they could tell how the argument effected the youngest Leclerc. Much like Charles, this space between them was hard. Yet, she'd watch the races for him and support him. That being some sort of reassurance for Charles.

Luckily for him, he had some time between the end of the triple header at Silverstone and the next race in Hungary so the evening after the race he was on a flight back to Nice.

It didn't take long for Charles and Alexandra to arrive back to Monaco, popping to his childhood home once again. Walking in they could tell that immediately that Pascale wasn't home but then again someone was home, which only meant one person was here.

Placing her bag down on the kitchen counter, Alexandra made her way over to the stairs. 'Y/n are you home?' There was several patters of footsteps above the couple as she made her way to the living room where Charles was sat anxiously waiting. His knee was continuously bouncing up and down before Alexandra's soft hand came rest just over his kneecap. 'You'll be fine..' She whispered gently.

It didn't take long for his baby sister to reveal herself, dressed in her work out gear. Y/n tried her best to hide her anxiety and hesitation, much like her brother she hated the past weeks. 'Salut..' (Hi) She breathed out.

Charles' eye lit up when he saw her, a small smile on his face. 'Hé, où est maman?' (Hey, where's mum?) It was safe to say that small talk wasn't going to be the best thing right now but they both knew it'd help.

He watched her as she moved to sit on the opposite sofa in her usual seat. 'Elle déjeune avec une amie…Marie' (She is having lunch with a friend…Marie) Both the Ferrari driver and his girlfirnd nodded slowly and understandingly.

There was a few seconds of a surprisingly comfortable silence, no one knowing what to say until Charles felt Alexandra sharply nudge him. Looking at her in shock, she quietly urged him to apologize. 'Look I'm sorry princesse..'

Almost giving herself whip lash, Y/n looked up from she was nervously checking her nails. And then there was a moment of quiet again, she didn't know what to say. Part of wanted to be cheeky and the other wanted to be sentimental. Suddenly her lips screwed into a small smirk, and Charles would be lying if it didn't scare him.

'You know it was pretty shitty what you did.' She let out a laugh and the pair followed in suit, Charles nodding knowingly. 'But you're my big brother, you're pretty shitty in general..' He was glad she was joking about, and he allowed her joke about him.

A smile had taken its shape on his face. 'Yeah I know, forgive me?' He asked, needing to satify that last bit of anxiety in him. To which he got a quick nod in return and immediately he was up, pulling her in a long over due hug.

At first it was sweet but immediately ruined when Charles heard Y/n mumble. 'Make me a dedicated instagram post and then I'll forgive you properly..' He just sighed knowingly as a laugh escaped Alexandras lips. Of course he was being blackmailed.

'Fine.' A grumble left his lips. 'You're lucky..'

-

1.6k

[stinkygirl009]

could you maybe possibly do like.. darry x motherly sweet reader? I js love darry sm omg

A/N: THIS IS SO CUTE STOPPP😩💗💗

Ever since Darry met y/n in high school he knew that she was gonna be the one and only for him. She was so sweet and loving towards him and this brothers it felt almost to good to be true. When mrs. Curtis first saw her, let’s just say she was the daughter she never had<3 Even before the incident happened with his parents, y/n still stuck by Darry’s side, helping out with rent and made small pastries for the gang when they would come over. Anything to at least make them feel safe. But even though she’s a total sweetheart, she can go into mommy mode REAL QUICK.

“Two-bit stop touching the chocolate cake!” Y/n swatted at Two-but with the spatula on his hand.

“Why? It’s gonna get eaten anyway!” He argued trying to grab the glass platter the cake was cooling off on. “I said no! Now go and watch Micky Mouse or something.” She said and huffed stepping in front of him to prevent him from getting the cake. He huffed and walked into the living room and sat on the couch with Steve and Soda. Johnny and Ponyboy were sitting on the ground playing poker, ever since they got back from hiding in the church they’ve been more fond of playing with the cards more often.

Y/n glanced back inside of the living room and couldn’t help but smile. She was glad everything worked out for Johnny and Pony, lord knows what could’ve happened to Johnny or pony in that happened in that church. She looked back at the table and grabs the homemade chocolate frosting that was mixed inside the bowl, and grabbed the frosting knife and got a good amount of chocolate on it and began to ice the cake. Few minutes later she was done with the cake, the sweet chocolate smell filling the house up deliciously!

“Ok, ok! get your plates ready.” She said finally with a little sigh still smiling. Two-bit and Steve race to the cake first, Ponyboy and Johnny wait until they’re done acting like a bunch of kid fighting for a toy before they would get there slice of it. Once They all got a piece a few people left due to the time, or they had other plans for tonight, which left Y/n, Soda, and Ponyboy at the house. They heard the car rumble outside the house of the familiar sound of Darry’s run down truck echoing. Y/n just finished washing the mess of dishes and bowls she used for her cake. She quickly was drying off her hand feeling slightly tired. The front door knob shook before it opened to Darry’s tired form walking through the door with a heavy sigh before his brothers welcomed him home. “Smells good in here.” Darry said tilting his head to the kitchen. He walked into the small kitchen and leaned in to see Y/n smiling and quickly walking up to him. His hand falling on their usual resting place on her hips. Pulling her in with a grin on his face.

“Hi, darlin’” he says with the sound of love lacing his voice, making her weak in the knees. “Hi, Darrell.” She said, her hands traveling to the back of his head, her nails massaging his scalp slightly and pulling his head against hers, both of them excepting comfort from each other. “Missed you s’much.” Y/n mumbled quietly her eyes shutting trying to keep the intimate moment for longer. “Missed you too.”

After Darry got ready for bed she got into pajamas y/n had already stored inside Darry’s drawers. This being one of the days that you can stay over at the Curtis house, for the weekends. She finished getting ready, she got under the covers turning on her side to turn off the lamp on the bedside table on Darry’s side of the bed and let out a soft sigh and glanced at the open door that showed Darry, and Soda talking in the living room. Before she thought about it more, she pulled the warm covers over her body, immediately relaxing at the warmth of Darry’s blankets. Y/n closed her eyes for a moment too long, and felt the bed dipping beside her making her jolt awake again. “Sorry, sweetheart.” Darry said turning his head back towards her, and brought his hand to her face gently. “It’s f’ine.” She slurred tiredly. He smiled softly at her state, and sat up slightly trying to wake herself up fully. He used his hand to bring her back down to the bed again. “You don’t need to get up.”

“Well then, get into bed faster!”

He wanted to finish getting things getting finished inside the house, but he knew that he would be exhausted in the morning but with a job well done. “Don’t overwork, please.” She said almost like he was an open book. “Come on-“

Y/n pulling him down towards her, bringing him into a much needed kiss. Lips moving against each other going deeper each time. He relaxed into the soft and gentle embrace from her, making his whole body into putty.

“Just relax tonight, yea?” She broke the kiss, looking into his blue-ish green eyes, convincingly.

“Jus’ tonight, Darlin’.”

[lizzieisright]

She looks like fun

dom!reader x sub!Abby

Summary: During the patrol you find a pretty pleated skirt. In Abby's size.

Tags: okay, here we go fingering, oral, strap usage, strap sucking, Abby wears a skirt and a collar for sexy purposes, scene negotiation, safewords (traffic lights), aftercare, Abby and R are switches.

wc: 6.5k (it's a huge bitch, but 1.5k is a sfw part in the beginning)

a/n: listen I love when girls wear short pleated skirts, and Abby is not an exception.

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It’s rare to find something worthy when you’re out on the patrol, and you try to contain your disappointment every time - mostly because you hate losing and you and Abby have a rivalry going on who can bring more cool shit for the other. It’s romantic and sappy and also it drives you both crazy since you’re competitive. (people said hate sex was hot - have you tried sex after your super competitive partner loses to you? The best thing ever). So usually you won’t be happy at the end of your patrol.

But today you manage to get into a store that hasn’t been raided yet, so you start taking everything you see - people need clothes all the time, and it’s valuable. You put a mark on your map so others can go there later to take the rest and you go to women’s section, not feeling optimistic: the fabric is worse, the sizes are fucked, and even if you find something nice it tends to not last long.

But then you see it. 

On the rack next to jeans there’s a rack with skirts - and why the fuck you’d stop to look at them? - but the skirts are pleated skirts. Short pleated skirts that cover ass just enough to be socially acceptable. 

You can’t stop looking at them - you’ve seen before how nice they flow and how absolutely delicious girls look in them. 

But it’s so not Abby’s style. 

But she’ll look so good in one of these skirts.

She will probably tell you to go fuck yourself if you show it to her. 

You pack it in your backpack anyway. 

“Found something?” Abby asks as she comes inside the shop. “Oh wow. This is nice.”

“Choose whatever you want, my treat.” You say with a cocky smirk and Abby rolls her eyes.

“It doesn’t count.” 

“You’re being unfair.” You whine as Abby makes her way to you. 

“No, I’m not.” Abby murmurs. “This store is a public service, where is your personal touch?”

“You’ll talk shit just to keep your score, huh?” You smirk and Abby gives you a peck on your lips before diving into the racks to find something for herself.

The skirt gets a buddy in the form of a tight cropped white t-shirt and you don’t tell Abby about it. 

The week passes and you still don’t talk about that damn skirt even though you can’t stop thinking about Abby wearing it: how it would hug her round butt and how her thick thighs would be so shamelessly out for you. You think about how cute she’d look walking around your shared space, the skirt bouncing and almost showing you everything. You think about the possibility of Abby not wearing any underwear under it, and how hot it would be to lift the skirt up and touch her and make her moan. You think about Abby all sprawled out with your head under that skirt, making a mess out of it. 

Abby is not an idiot, so she notices the change in your mood for the last few days. She knows something is on your mind, so she catches you off guard, with her fingers buried deep inside you. 

“Come on baby, tell me what’s been bothering you.” Abby murmurs into your ear while her fingers relentlessly hit the spot that makes you see stars.

“Shit- what?” You ask, totally lost in your pleasure. 

“You’re keeping something from me. So share.” Abby kisses your neck and you try really hard not to cum, but your thighs start to shake.

“Fuck- the fucking skirt-”

And you see Abby in that skirt, all cute and shy, and you spasm around real Abby’s fingers, cumming with a groan. Abby is too distracted with watching you go through your orgasm, still fucking you, and you both forget about the topic. 

Until you’re calmed down and Abby is satisfied with how fucked out you are. Then she remembers.

“Skirt?”

Shit, you think. Now you’ll have to explain it to Abby who definitely will tell you to fuck off. 

“I took a skirt from that store we found. It’s a pleated skirt, a cute one.”

“So? You want to wear it?” 

“I want you to wear it.”

Abby is silent, and you expect it, so you already drop the subject in your head, letting it go. But Abby is not letting it go.

“You want me to wear a skirt?”

“If you want to, obviously. I think you'll be so hot in it. But I know it’s not your style.”

“It’s really not.” Abby chuckles. “So that’s why you’ve been so spacey lately? Thinking about me in a skirt?”

“Yeah. Can’t stop thinking about your pretty butt in it.” You kiss Abby’s neck and flip her on her back. “You’d look so cute.” You kiss Abby’s abs as you make your way down. “I’d run my hands under your pretty little skirt and you’ll just take it like a good girl, yeah?”

This shift is always beautiful: she just fucked your brains out, but a couple of words and your head between her legs makes Abby go pliant and soft, her big blue eyes giving you a Bambi. 

“Holy fuck.” Abby sighs and you smile into her pussy. “I’ll wear it for you.”

The hungry monster inside you roars and claws at your chest. 

Abby walks funny the next day.

You don’t actually expect Abby to wear it - after all, what is said under horny subby fog can’t be held accountable. Abby is really not a girly girl - fuck, it’d be easier to make you wear a skirt (after getting shot and stabbed repeatedly, mind you), and you understand that Abby might not be comfortable with this idea. 

But you leave the skirt and the t-shirt on the bed one day to give her the choice. When you come back, it's gone. 

Next time the skirt topic comes up when you're taking a bath together - a rare luxury, so you enjoy every second of feeling Abby's warm skin against yours.

"Do you still want me to wear a skirt?" If you were relaxed a second ago, now you're suddenly alert. 

"Only if you want it too." You kiss her shoulder. 

"And if I wear it..?" Abby gives you space to finish the phrase for her. 

"I'll fuck you on every surface in this apartment." Abby laughs, but you know what she wants to know. "Yeah, I want it to be a scene." You take a second. "Do you want me to plan it?"

"Yeah."

You freeze for a second, not really believing your luck - Abby doesn't ask for a scene plan unless she wants to do it, and right now it means she will wear a skirt for you. 

"Fuck baby, you're going to wear it for me?" You ask excitedly, squeezing her in your arms. "With a t-shirt too?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get into your head." 

"We have a few free days next week, right? Is it okay?"

"Yes, you horndog." Abby laughs and you bite her gently. 

So you spend the next days planning what you would do with Abby, writing a short list of kinks so she could veto whatever she doesn't want to happen or add something she wants to happen (the ropes last time? Her idea). She still won't know in which order everything will happen or where exactly, or even when in some cases, to save the magic of the moment, but in order to feel safe with each other, you write your lists every time, unless you both get spontaneously in the mood and have to negotiate on the fly. 

You pass your list to Abby and as she reads it, her face warms up in a pretty red colour, just like apples in the garden. 

"Okay." Abby smiles at you. "This sounds good. But I pulled my shoulder today, so I won't be able to get on my hands and knees."

"Fuck, I'll give a massage later." You say, worried. "Okay, that's fine, no doggy." 

"We can do that one, when you push the pillow under me?"

You swallow in horny, the pictures flying through your head, as you scribble it down on your list. 

"Fuck yes. Are you going to be fine like this? You still put your arms up." 

"It's not that bad." Abby shrugs. "I want to add something." 

You nod eagerly, always ready to give Abby whatever she wants. Abby walks away to go through her backpack and comes back to you, giving you a piece of small leather belt. It's too small for any human, and just as your brain starts to catch up, Abby drops the bomb on you.

"Collar me."

You blink a few times, not believing your ears.

"I'll fucking destroy you, Abs." You say, your voice low and dark. 

You had this talk before, and Abby was honestly weirded out by the ritual of collaring, so you decided not to add it, especially since you weren't in a 24/7 dynamic and not in fixed roles either. And you know Abby doesn't mean putting this collar as the collar, but it is still so hot. The whole thing is not done by the book or by rules, but you really don't care: whatever Abby wants, Abby gets. 

"I will want to tug on it." You tell her, honestly, and Abby thinks for a second.  

"Yeah, okay. Traffic lights, then." 

You nod and add "collaring" in your messy handwriting. 

You know Abby will wear this skirt, it's not a surprise, but you're still not prepared when you walk into the kitchen. 

Abby is standing there, and you trail her bare legs up until you see the edge of the skirt and holy fuck. Holy fuck she looks good in it, her trained perky ass making the folds of the skirt to look especially delicious. You lick your lips as your fingers twitch, because you want to lift it already and get a look at her pretty little pussy. 

And your eyes go up and you see this tight t-shirt that shows all the muscles in Abby's back and shoulders and you want to bite her and mark her. 

"Wow, princess." You sigh and make your way to her, squeezing her waist. Abby jumps, surprised, but relaxes against you. "You look so fucking pretty." 

"Thank you."

"Give me a twirl, will you?" You step away to give her space.

Abby is clearly embarrassed, but she does the cutest twirl in the world and yes, you can see her ass. And she is not wearing underwear, just as you told her. 

"Beautiful." You murmur and run your hand up her thigh, lifting the skirt just a little. "You wanna watch something? I brought this from the library."

You show her the dvd and Abby is still tethered to reality, so she reads the summary carefully. 

"Sounds okay. Not like the last time." 

"Fuck you, baby." You pinch her side in revenge. "Let's go."

It seems so normal. It seems like any other day off, you and Abby sitting on the couch, but even as you pretend to watch the movie, you see how twitchy Abby is getting. 

She plays with the ham of her skirt and it's so fucking cute - but then she smooths the fabric and you feel like you're going to explode: Abby enjoys wearing it. Abby likes it in a way that a girl who was forced to grow up in a horrible fucking world would enjoy doing normal girly things. 

Maybe Abby is not not so girly after all. 

Your heart feels tender right now and you can't help but to put your hand on her thigh, drawing little circles on her sensitive skin. 

"Do you like it?"

"A little predictable, but still better." Abby shrugs and squeaks when you squeeze her thigh. "Yeah." She is shy now. "I feel pretty." 

"You are pretty, princess." You whisper in her ear, making her shudder.

But you don't do anything else. You keep watching the movie, caressing Abby's thigh and pretend not to notice the change in her breathing. Then Abby starts shifting a little and you look down to see her nipples perked up. The fabric is rubbing against her sensitive skin and you just wait, because in a minute you feel how Abby tries to press her thighs together, thinking she is sneaky. 

You chuckle and move your hand under the skirt, slowly parting her folds. Abby tries to keep her whimper to herself, but you feel how wet she is. 

"What's got you so worked up, pretty girl?" You ask innocently while you brush your thumb over Abby's clit. 

"Nothing." Abby breathes out and you chuckle. 

"Really?" You wonder and pick up the speed, flicking Abby's clit until she presses her thighs together.

It's such a pretty sight: your hand under Abby's skirt, squeezed by her warm thighs, her knees pressed together. Abby is biting her lip and you watch her while your fingers tease her relentlessly. She looks desperate and helpless, and you live for it.

"Were you thinking exactly about this? How good I will make you feel under your pretty skirt?" You gently bite Abby's neck and she joists. "But we are watching a movie, princess, and I'm really interested in it. So you will give a narration while I play with your pretty pussy." You can't give less fucks about this movie, but making life harder for Abby is your favourite game.

"Yes, ma'am." Abby is not fully in the subspace yet, so she feels a little shy, but she crumbles completely when your eyes meet. 

You slide down to the floor and make Abby put her feet by her sides for better access. The skirt falls between her legs and covers her cunt, and you lean back to look at her. Abby is blushing and frowning in desperation, her nipples are perking through the t-shirt and her plushy thighs are open so shamelessly for you. 

"You stop talking, I stop touching you." You warn Abby and she nods. "Now lift your shirt up." 

Abby does as she told and now this is a sight, her small tits squeezed by the t-shirt, her abs flexing as she breathes deeply. Abby already looks ruined and you haven't done anything yet.

"What is happening there?" You ask routinely and lift Abby's skirt up, revealing her soaked little cunt. You spread her lips open and circle her clit with your thumb. 

"She is- she is at work again." Abby sighs and you hum, encouraging her. "She is talking to the cigarette selling woman." It sounds like Abby is relieved when she finishes her line and you laugh to yourself: your poor baby is trying to be good for you.

You leave her clit alone and push two fingers in slowly, watching her body react to you as beautiful as always. Abby freezes and instead of watching the movie, watches your fingers disappear in her.

"I'll take them out." You threaten and Abby snaps back into watching. 

"There's this creepy guy," Abby swallows hard when you start slowly pumping your fingers in and out. "And she has an idea- fuck." You just curled your fingers and Abby stops watching again, but quickly opens her eyes.

"What's the idea?" 

"She wants the sell- ah, fuck - selling lady and the- the-" You pick up the speed of your fingers and Abby clutches to your shoulders. You reach with your free hand and pinch her nipple, and Abby twitches in response, her pussy clenches on you. "Fuck, it feels so good, ma'am."

"And I'm yet to hear about her idea." You say with a hint of a threat, but your thrusts only get rougher. 

"She is playing matchmaker, ohmygod!" Abby whimpers and in reward you lick the long strip from your fingers buried in her pussy to her neglected clit. You suck on it and Abby lets out a shriek as her knees are closing up above your head. "Fuck, oh god- I can't-" 

You keep sucking on her clit until she is shaking and moaning, but then you move away and take out your fingers. 

"Is she still playing matchmaker?" You ask sternly.  Abby blinks and checks the screen. 

"No."

"That's what I fucking thought." You knead Abby's thighs a little painfully and keep her legs open for you. "Keep talking, princess."

Abby nods feverishly and swallows. Such a pretty fucking sight, you think as you look up to her: Abby's mouth is open and she really tries so hard to watch this stupid movie, but you push your fingers inside again and all her efforts go to waste as she twitches and blinks very fast in a attempt to not close her eyes.

"She is telling the selling lady that the creepy g- fuck-" Abby sobs when you put your mouth back on her. You play with her clit and suck on it again, making Abby buck her hips into your face. "The- the creepy guy is in- ma'am! - is in love with her!" 

You push Abby's legs together and up, almost folding her in half and push your tongue alongside your fingers, getting drunk on her taste. Abby is a smart girl, so she holds herself under her knees to help you and moans when she feels your tongue and your fingers inside.  Abby always tastes and feels like heaven, and you never want to leave her pussy alone. 

"Ma'am I'm gonna cum." Abby whimpers and you get rough, every push of your fingers is moving Abby's whole body with the sheer force of it, because Abby is not behaving.

"Is her idea working?" You suck on her clit again and Abby whines and sobs while forcing herself to look at the screen.

"Y-yes!" Abby shouts and cums on your fingers, sucking them in on every spasm. You pick up the pace and Abby tries to fight you off, but you slap her hand away and fuck her through her orgasm until her thighs are shaking uncontrollably. Abby is whimpering on every exhale, her abs are twitching, and you smile wolfishly.

"You did so good, princess." You let Abby's legs go gently and fix her skirt, smoothing the fabric. Abby looks at you with pleading eyes and your heart swells, so you straighten up and kiss her slowly and delicately. Abby relaxes and caresses your neck, chasing your mouth, and you can’t help yourself as you pinch her nipples playfully. 

“You want your collar?” You ask softly and Abby nods eagerly. “Show me how good your throat is first.”

Bratty Abby is fun, and you like the back and forth of it, but good girl Abby makes you feral: you just told her what you want and she is already opening her mouth for you, sticking her tongue out.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and push your fingers down her throat. 

You fuck Abby’s throat until she is gurgling and her eyes roll back into her skull: you know she likes it, likes to relax her throat and let you use her as you wish. Abby is not even gagging now, so used to it, but you can feel how her throat clenches on you sometimes. Abby looks so cute like this, her tits out, her eyes closed and her thighs pressed together under the skirt as it spreads so prettily around her hips. 

“Beautiful.” You murmur and clean up her spit from her chin. Abby smiles at you, clearly pleased from praise, and you kiss her again as a reward. Abby likes kisses, especially if she is needy, as if it keeps her tethered to you. "Show me your neck, princess."

Abby straightens up and proudly shows you her neck - she is so cute you can't help your giggle. You take out the small belt and Abby looks at you with wide eyes as if you’re her god. 

"Mine." You tell her when you tighten the collar around her neck. "You're mine." 

"Yours, ma'am." Abby answers in a small voice and you see how any rational thought leaves Abby’s head as her eyes get cloudy. "Can I touch it, ma'am?"

"Go ahead." You nod and watch her strong fingers that leave bruises on your thighs brush over the leather with such care. "We're not done, princess." 

Abby nods and you tug on her collar until she stands up on her shaking legs and follows you to the bedroom. There's enough space for your fingers to fit in under the collar, but you're still careful with it: it's a new thing and you don't want to hurt Abby in a way she doesn't want to be hurt. 

You lead Abby to the bed, but instead of getting her to lie down, you sit on the bed and tug on her collar to get her down on her knees. Abby slowly sits on her thighs and fixes the skirt again, and you just can't. She is so fucking cute in it, and you can see the curve of her hips in the mirror, her waist looks tiny and the dips along her spine are so fucking hot. 

You caress Abby's cheekbone with your thumb, adoring her, and she blooms. Abby likes subbing because she's loved so fully at her weakest and most vulnerable like she's never been before - she's literally on her knees, with a collar around her neck and in a skirt and you look at her like she is divine.

"Is your throat good enough for my cock too, princess?"  You ask with a teasing smirk, palming your strap through the fabric of your pants. 

"Yes ma'am. I'll be so good for you." Abby pleads and grabs at your thighs before she remembers herself. 

"Too eager for your own good, huh?" You weave your fingers through her hair at the back, right under the braid, holding her head up. "Come on, get to work."

Abby tugs your pants down and you can see in the mirror how she presses her thighs together when she sees your strap, and that won't do. 

"Spread your legs and arch your back, I wanna see how wet you're gonna get." 

Abby does exactly as she is told, even lifting herself up a little so she could reach your lap, and you see her skirt covering everything. It's a downside, but Abby is smart, so she pushes the skirt to the front just enough for it to go up and your grip in her hair tightens from how sexy she looks. The edge of the skirt is now reaching to the middle of her ass and you see her wet pussy glisten; the contrast of her waist to hips ratio makes her ass look even better, and you feel like you're gonna cum just from watching Abby getting wet. 

"Fucking beautiful." You growl and Abby even shakes her ass a little to make it jiggle. "Focus, princess." You tell her sternly, and Abby arches into you even more. 

You tug Abby's head back and she opens her mouth automatically, so you push your cock inside just a little - Abby wraps her lips around the head and you let go of her hair, letting her run the show and have fun. Abby leaves wet open mouthed kisses along the length of your strap and you hum in approval, petting her head. She is blushing and her freckles look so pretty on her pink cheeks, her eyelashes flatter when she closes her eyes and licks the whole length of your strap. The movements cause the harness to move against your clit and your breathing gets heavier - you didn't expect it to happen, you must've put the harness in a different way - and Abby notices how tense are your thighs under her hands. She makes eye contact with you to check in, and you smile at her. 

"You're doing so good princess, you might make me cum if you keep it up."

Abby whimpers when she hears it - it's very rare for you to even allow her to touch you when you dom her, let alone make you cum, but Abby wants to. She always wants to please you in any way she's allowed to. 

"Please let me make you cum, ma'am." Abby begs, looking at you with her big doe eyes. 

"You can try, princess." You chuckle, not very sure that she can, but Abby seems determined. 

Abby lifts up a little again and lowers her head on your cock, taking as much as she can while she still can breathe, and when she comes back up, the harness grinds against your clit, making you hiss. Abby wiggles in excitement and starts to bob her head up and down, getting dizzy from hearing your panting and hissing above her.

"Just like that, babygirl." You pant and put your hand on Abby's head, slightly pushing the strap deeper. "You can take it, right?" You coo and Abby moans in agreement. "Good girl. Relax for me."

You hold Abby's head by her braid and push your strap deeper and deeper while Abby's eyes roll back into her skull. There is something so comforting about having her throat stuffed Abby can't help herself but to go absolutely slack while you fuck her throat, grunting and panting as your own pleasure builds up. 

"Ride your fingers, princess, I know you want to." 

Fucking hell, you think as you watch Abby pump her fingers in and out in the mirror, her thighs and ass look so delicious with the skirt on. Abby moans and whimpers as you fuck her throat and she fucks herself, and you know you're not going to last long. 

Your grip tightens in her hair and Abby whimpers, and you can see in the mirror how rough she is being with herself, desperate to cum. 

"Fuck-" You whimper and buck your hips up to get more friction and the same time as Abby swallows you down, and the pressure ticks you off right away. 

Your thighs shake and your hips buck, chasing the aftershocks of your orgasm while Abby watches you with wide eyes, her own fingers forgotten. She is not even breathing, absolutely mesmerised by your reactions - she made you cum, she made you cum without even touching you. 

You pant, still twitching from your orgasm, but you find the strength to move Abby away from the strap despite her whining. 

"Come here." You tug on her collar again to make her move and Abby straddles you. "Holy fuck." You whisper when you look at her. "My best girl." You kiss Abby's shoulder and she giggles.

"Thank you, ma'am." 

You smile at her and then lie down on the bed, tugging on Abby's hips so she would move. Abby is bright red - for some reason she is still so shy when you make her sit on your face - but she moves up, until her thighs are by the sides of your face. Abby can't even look at you, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

“Look at me.” You tell her and Abby steals a glance at you, which is not what you wanted. “I said look at me.”

And Abby looks, tries her hardest to maintain eye contact with you as you push her down on your face, burying yourself in her soaked pussy. 

Abby whines when you suck on her sensitive clit since she's been close after fucking herself earlier. You don't waste any time and eat her out messily, getting her wetness all over your face as you devour her, fucking her with your tongue, rubbing and sucking her clit, while Abby writhes on top of you. 

“Oh god-” She sobs and you grab a handful of her hips, pulling her skirt up so you can see her. “I'm gonna-”

And that is exactly your cue to stop, leaving Abby panting and whimpering on top of you. You watch her pretty clit throb from being so close to orgasm and smirk. 

Abby is confused and there's a tiniest hint of hurt on her face: she did such a good job and you are not letting her cum?

You chuckle and signal her to move. 

“Lie down on your stomach.” You tell her and while Abby does as she is told, you fix your harness and grab a pillow to put it under Abby's hips. 

Seeing Abby's fat thighs pressed together with her wet glistening hole between them makes you want to ruin her. The sight of your strong, dangerous girlfriend all shy and pretty and in this damn skirt makes you froth at your mouth like a fucking dog. Abby makes you feel like the most unhinged obsessed creep and the way she welcomes your dark side - as you think of it - is why you would die for her at any moment. 

You can't help the possessive bite you leave on her neck, practically growling into her ear.

“You're mine.” You tell her and Abby nods, shows her neck with a collar on it. 

“Yours.” She whispers and bucks her hips into you, presenting herself for you. 

You line your strap up and push inside, feeling how tight Abby is from being so close to an orgasm. 

“It's a pity you can't see yourself, princess.” You tell her as you watch the head of your strap slowly disappear in her hole. “You're close, aren't you?”

“Please, ma'am.” Abby whimpers and you part her ass cheeks to give yourself a show. 

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” Abby says and you smile. 

“You can do better than that.”

You're not usually the “beg me” type, but now you want Abby to be desperate. You keep pushing extremely slowly, teasing Abby and moving away when she bucks her hips. 

“Please, I need you.” Abby starts shyly and oh, what a great idea it is. “Ma'am, I need you, please fuck me, only you can make me feel good, please-”

You push all the way in in one go and Abby moans loudly.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and pick a hard pace right away, slamming into Abby so hard her ass jiggles. Abby sobs and her back tenses: she feels you so deep and she is so tight in this position, and she is so fucking close. You knead her ass through the skirt and just watch your strap disappear in Abby, fucking her mercilessly. 

“Ma’am-” Abby whimpers and holds the pillow under her head for dear life, trying to hold off her orgasm. “Can I-” Abby doesn't get to finish her sentence as your next thrust knocks the air out of her. 

“Cum, babygirl.” You tell her gently while you thrust into Abby's tight little pussy with force, grabbing her hips for stability. 

Abby coils and lifts her ass as her orgasm rips through her body like an electric shock, and you chuckle, satisfied, your movements slowing down. You're not stopping, still moving inside her, and Abby squeezes her thighs together under you, whimpering. 

“Relax, princess, and let me have you.” You murmur into her ear and continue fucking her slowly, watching your strap come out of her covered in her cum. 

Abby genuinely tries to relax, but she is sensitive right now and your cock drags along her walls so slowly it drives her crazy. She likes feeling so stuffed, so full of you, but now she wants to cum again. 

“Ma'am, please go faster.” Abby asks you and you chuckle. 

“You're so impatient.” You tsk and slap her ass cheek lightly, watching it jiggle. “You're gonna cum like this or not at all, understood?”

“Yes ma'am.” Abby says, humbled, but her voice breaks in a moan when you push inside to the hilt. “Fuck.”

You smile and pull out just to push back and Abby clutches to the pillow, her whole body feels like she is on fire. You don't make it easier as your lips travel over her sensitive back, every touch of your hot tongue makes her tighten around your strap and moan pathetically. 

Abby is so close and so, so fucking far away from her orgasm and you know it, so you continue thrusting into her slowly until Abby starts to squirm and misbehave as she pushes back, chasing your strap. 

“Stop it.” You tell her sternly and push her lower back into the bed to stop her from moving. 

“Ma'am, please!” Abby whines.

You tug on her collar quite roughly and press your lips to her ear. 

“Such a brat.” You growl and slam into Abby roughly, making her squeal. “Turn on your side.” 

And that's how Abby ends up being fucked roughly from behind while you squeeze her throat and play with her clit relentlessly, bringing her to the edge immediately. Your pelvis hits her ass at every thrust and Abby whines and whimpers, her eyes rolled back, her head absolutely empty. Abby feels like she doesn’t exist anymore, only your hands and your voice and your cock do - and she feels so fucking good. 

“Ma’am-” Abby moans frantically. “It feels so good, you feel so good, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Is all you can hear between Abby’s sobs. You smile darkly and fuck her harder until she shrieks and cums again. 

But you don’t stop. You keep fucking Abby through her orgasm, you keep fucking her when she whines from being too sensitive, you keep fucking her even when she tries to move your hand away from her clit.

“Ma’am, it’s too much- I can’t-”

“You can take it.” You pant into her ear. “You wanted to cum so much before, so keep cumming.”  

And Abby does, with another sob. She cums again, and again, until it becomes too much for real, and her face is wet with tears. She feels like overstimulation now hurts more than pleases, and maybe you’re right, she has another one in her, but Abby feels exhausted. 

“Yellow.” Abby sniffles, and you stop moving right away, carefully letting go of her tit, but not removing the strap yet in case it will hurt Abby.

“Too much?” You ask her gently and Abby nods. “Does something hurt?” You ask her with such care in your voice Abby wants to cry, because she feels like she could’ve gone longer and now she’s disappointed you. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Abby sniffles, and you get more alert than ever.

“Abby? Can I hug you?” Abby nods and you carefully wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her neck. “Talk to me, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I say something?”

“No- It’s just- It started to hurt and I’m tired- fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“Baby, why are you saying sorry? It’s okay, you did good by using the safeword.”

“I just feel like I could go longer, I should not have stopped you.” Abby admits and sniffles again, ashamed - her emotions skyrocket in subspace.

“I don’t want you to push your limits to please me. How about we stop now, get clean and then cuddle and talk, if you want? How does it sound?”

“We can continue, I just need a moment.” Abby pleads as her guilt grows.

“I don't think we should, sweets.” That pet name makes Abby squeeze her eyes: you only use it when she is not allowed to argue. “It's okay. You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong.” You kiss her shoulder and Abby's head gets a little clearer. “Thank you for telling me, you did so well.”

This makes Abby feel a little better; she nods and squeezes your hand in return. You carefully remove the strap while Abby winces and then you help her get up and go to the bathroom, to shower. 

You take her clothes and collar off, and Abby doesn’t look at you, still beating herself up, but you won’t have it. So when you two get into the shower and water starts to wash the sweat and cum off both of you, you take her face in your hands and kiss her cheeks, her nose, her eyes and forehead, everywhere really. Just small gentle kisses, until Abby smiles and looks at you bashfully.

“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” You tell her honestly and Abby blushes, but her mood seems to go up. 

You wash both of you gently, carefully going over Abby’s crotch, and she relaxes under your arms. You dry both of you after and help Abby change into her pjs. She gets under the blankets and you kiss her forehead before going to the kitchen and getting some food for both of you. 

When you return with two plates and a big cup, Abby looks sleepily at you, seemingly calm. But you know her, you know how guilt can eat her alive, so you keep being alert. 

“Drink this first.” You give Abby warm water with honey and she drinks it, scrunching her nose from the sweetness of it. Then you eat in comfortable silence, both noticing with surprise how hungry you were - which should not be a surprise by now, really. You finish your food and clean up so you can cuddle Abby and sooth her. Abby gets on top of you and you caress her hair and shoulders absentmindedly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Abby sounds more sober now too. “I just-” She huffs, annoyed at herself. “I dunno how to explain. I could've gone longer.” 

“I don't want to hurt you. Not in a way you don't enjoy.” You remind her. Abby loves you so much she is scared to fuck everything up, and it led to some problems before, when she put your needs above hers. You talked about it, but sometimes, especially if Abby subs, she slips and does it again. This is exactly why you have a “sweets” rule: to stop her before she hurts both of you with her sacrifices. 

“I just feel like I'm..weak.” Abby admits and you chuckle. 

“You're not. You're a grownup who can tell their limits, and I'm so happy you did.” You say kindly. “I trust you. You were so good for me today, including using the safeword.” You kiss the top of Abby's head and she hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry I didn't check in with you.”

Abby nods and looks up to you. 

“We both agreed to this, right? We literally fucked around and found out.” You chuckle and reach out to grab the honey water for Abby. 

“I know you hate it, but your throat needs it.”

Abby groans and drinks it, absolutely despising the honey: this is the only drawback of getting her throat fucked.

“Did you like the skirt?” Abby asks playfully. 

“Yes. You looked so good in it, god. I got a little crazy.” You kiss her honey lips and Abby smiles into your mouth. 

“Well, next time it's your turn.” She says seriously and you laugh. 

“If you promise to not rip it apart.” 

[xoxochb]

can i ask for a percy x daughter of zeus and it’s soulmate!au but only jason knows at first so he tries to get them together with the help of others and it’s really just cute and fluffy and reader and percy aren’t close at all

⋆·˚ ༘ * this love left a permanent mark

warnings: none

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of zeus

you spoke to percy jackson twice, both having awful timings. perhaps he could be considered a friend, you were unsure of the classification of your relationship with him

however when it came to you and a handful of other demigods practically living on a ship together you would speak to them more often, even if it was only something simple

when you met eyes with percy the first day on the ship you were unaware of another pair focused on the two of you- belonging to your roman brother. jason grace knew there was undeniable and insane tension between you and percy, and not the kind where you were aware of it, that was the worst part, you had been incredibly oblivious to notice the invisible string tying you to each other

and who better to get you and percy to speak other than the only daughter of aphrodite on the ship? jason went to piper the next morning and told her about the situation and a plan was made that day. from that day on they always made sure that percy would run into you or the other way around, always watching to see if you spoke. over time the more you began to see the son of poseidon the more you spoke to him. from then on you became friends, speaking as much as possible, sneaking in each others rooms (??) at night, sitting side by side at the table, normal friend things

today was a special day for you- except you were unaware of how special it would be. today a note would be slipped under your door signed by percy, asking you to meet him on the deck after everyone had gone to bed for the night. little did percy know, he would be receiving the same note, except signed by you

you invited annabeth to your room to help you get ready, she sits on your bed criticizing every piece of clothing you own

“how about this sweater and these jeans withhh…” you throw the clothing on your bed and reach underneath to grab your shoes “these docs?”

“are you going to take a walk around stars hollow?” she remarks

“okay” you cross your arms “then you find something”

she gets up happily and walks to your dresser, searching through your tops until she pulls out a simple floral shirt

“wear this instead of the sweater” she throws it on your bed with the rest of the clothes

“it’s freezing outside”

“exactly! you’ll get cold and he’ll give you his sweatshirt, how romantic!”

she takes the previous clothes sitting on your bed and organizes them back in your drawers. once she finishes she gives you a pat on the shoulder with encouraging words of comfort

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I want details”

and with that she walks out and you begin to dress. once finished you take a deep breath and make your way to the deck where you find percy already waiting

“hey stranger”

he turns around with a wide smile “I thought you’d never come”

you shake your head before placing your arms on the cold railing, staring out at the midnight sea

“so why’d-” - “why did you-”

you both break into a fit of giggles

“you go first” percy says

“why’d you invite me out here? not that I mind it, it’s beautiful but it’s freezing”

“you’re cold?”

you nod and percy wastes no time taking his sweatshirt off, handing it to you

damn annabeth! why must she always be right?

you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ before sliding the clothing piece over your head. It smells just like percy- the ocean and a hint of his cologne- and you never want to take it off

“uhm, anyways, I thought you invited me?” percy speaks

“no, you invited me”

you both pull out the notes you and revived, similarly showing it to the other

“this is the same handwriting” percy points out

you laugh “we’re totally being set up right now”

percy takes both your notes, throwing them in the water “I would’ve loved to be here with you regardless if we were set up or not”

a blush makes its way to your cheeks and you’re thankful for the dark of the night. you take notice in percy’s shivering state and hesitantly take his hand in yours

unbeknownst to the both of you, a golden string wraps around your intertwined hands. a golden string symbolizing soulmates, entwined souls meant to be for eternity. the moment is quiet, serene, however percy was sure his heart would combust any second when you move closer. he runs his thumb over your knuckles, a comforting action in most situations, but it encourages the butterflies to use their wings and fly through his insides. would it be too soon to kiss you?

he leans in, just about, but before he takes another step he searches your eyes for any signs showing you don’t want this, but your encouraging gaze tells him otherwise, so he takes the chance to connect his lips with yours in a passion-filled kiss. he hopes this moment never ends

little did he know you thought the same, in the same way you didn’t expect to have many moments like these in the future, and for eternity

[maximotts]

Free use cowgirl Wanda 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Going to the grocery store because Wanda’s been so busy lately only to find Wanda there and you’re like “omg hi Wanda 😊 But wait I thought I was doing the shopping this week?” and you check your phone to see if you’ve missed something. You haven’t. Wanda just couldn’t wait to bend you over 💞💞

My phone is doing the ios17 update and I'm just remembering I needed to finish answering this ask whoopsies

This got longer than expected (it's only like 600 words tho), but I simply cannot apologize for free use cowgirl Wanda content uhmmm cws for public sex and typical farm Wanda dirty talking, 18+ obvs

I don't think I've said it before, but Wanda does errands to shops in town to drop off farm goods every week because shopping local is good and cute! So there's a very high possibility you'd run into her at the grocery store and you're always so giddy when you see her, the shop owner thinks you two are just precious!

He doesn't even notice Wanda holding your hips so tight you're squeaking or how she's taunting you by pulling the ends of your pigtails! When you excuse yourself to finish the rest of your shopping, Wanda follows oh so innocently until the two of you are out of eyesight... and maybe she spots you stretching to reach the flour at the very back of the shelf, flowy dress riding up to show off your legs, how's Wanda supposed to do anything but pin you against the shelves?

"What right do you have to look this damn beautiful all by yourself back here?" And you can barely get a word in between Wanda's kisses, particularly when she takes your tongue and sucks, leaving your mouth an absolute mess.

At the sound of Wanda undoing her belt, you startle, trying and failing to wrench your thigh from where your girlfriend was shamelessly hitching it high around her hip. "Are you crazy? Someone's going to see us!"

"Now bunny, don't be like that," Wanda's totally unbothered by your struggles, knowing you'd settle as soon as she gets her hand up your panties— and she's exactly right. "I believe we have an arrangement, or did you forget?"

You couldn't possibly forget, your mind always racing with thoughts of how and when Wanda would decide to fuck you again. Sometimes you baited her into it, not wanting to wait, but being taken in the back of the town's only grocery store was an idea that'd never dared crossed your mind. Wanda's either until about five minutes prior.

"Good girl..." Wanda's smile is stunningly bright as she feels you relax against her, arms winding around her shoulders while she lines up her strap, opting not to prep you for the sake of time. "I'd guess we have about ten minutes before Steve finishes counting the jars I brought and writing me a check so behave and be quiet."

It's the shortest ten minutes of your life, the time flying by under Wanda's praises and the knee-buckling orgasm she gifts you. Your teeth desperately bite into the shoulder of Wanda's coat as she continues to fuck you, pumping your full of her cum until she's satisfied.

Pulling out was bittersweet, the brunette loving your impish whines but hating to have to leave. She did have to exercise some self-restraint, but that didn't mean she couldn't pick up where she left off later... "You'd better keep every last bit of my cum in that sweet pussy or I'll drag your ass right back here and we'll start all over again. Understand?"

"Uh huh..." It's terrible how quickly Wanda takes all your thoughts with such a quick fuck; you can tell how spaced out you sound, but you don't have anywhere near the coherence you need to mask it. You'd have to go straight back to the house after this, could only hope you remembered the rest of what you needed to get for dinner.

"I have a few more stops to make so I'll meet you back at home. Text me if you need anything, love you." Wanda sends you off with another kiss and a pat on the ass and before you know it, she's gone and you've never done your shopping more dreamily.

[unluckilyimnot]

Yes! Dw abt it :D in fact, I just wanted to see Sae being a daddy. It can be without the divorce though, just wanting to know how he would be as a father 🫶🏻

Sae as a father

m.list | rules

note: hii thank you for your answer <3 here it is finally i hope you like it ! also i made a get to know me, let me know what you think about it hihi i would love to chat a bit more with you guys

He must be awkward at first but he loves it a lot

I see him as a girl daddy he would love his little girl to death

talks about her more than he likes to admit it

but she's so funny

wait until she get to school and he’ll get to listen to all the gossip with a lot of passion

he’s really into it, if he came home late and she’s already to, he asks you what happened today and ask for all the details

loves to pick her from school when he can, but he’s busier than you

“no daddy you don’t get it !” and then she’ll explain the whole thing again (she doesn’t know shit about it but he would always let her think she’s right <3)

he doesn't want to be strict with her but he's still cold when he's upset, it's hard for him to work on that

but he always make sure to make it up for her by talking to her and explaining what was up – he doesn’t want her to think it’s normal to be ignored without explanation

both of you have to work on a lot of things, you’re not perfect, but you really want to show her the best model possible

sometimes he jokes about the fact that she loves him more than you

he loves doing picnic with both of you, that’s his favorite type of family date

when all of you three cook together and then you get to sit in a sun bath to enjoy it – it’s really the best

Not forgetring about the sea !! It's really important for him and he wants her to have a thins kind of feeling/relationship with it as well ♡

she would love to cook with him !

I hc him that he won’t let you cook because of his diet notably but also because it’s his way to show that he loves you and her

he’ll do his best for her to taste a lot of things but still respect when she says she doesn’t like something

he’ll probably get killed if he ever force her to eat something she doesn’t like in fact, ‘cause you hate that behavior

he also want her to be really educated about a lot of things so both of you make sure that she can go to a lot of museums, see temples and be in touch with animals to be aware and take care of them and the planet

he’s love to do sport with her but won’t forced her either if she doesn’t want to

but if she does, damn he’ll make sm time for her (even more than before)

but he’ll be salty if she’s more into the things you like

he’s totally the type to get caught away to watched cartoons or movies with her but ended up SO into the story ?? like hell yeah he needs to know the end of this barbie or pixar movie

play with her a lot even if he’s not the best at it, you’re definitely more expressive than him but you can be tired and he wants to spend time with her that way too

if she ever cry because of someone at school, be sure that his next day is taken and he’s got an appointment with the director without even asking him

he’ll just show up and makes things clear, could also talk directly to the kid if it was bad enough

he loves to walk with her on his shoulders even if she pulls his hair too much sometimes

he’s overly cute and caring with her  

i hope you liked it ♡

[idontplaytrack]

Sundress

Janis ‘Imi’ike x shy fem! reader + Regina George x Cady Heron

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Semi-public sex, group sex, oral, fingering, spanking, mild degradation(reader receiving)

In which, Janis can’t get enough of reader’s sundress and an afternoon out by the pool turned into something more

The spring season had just rolled around but there was something unusual about it...how warm the weather was. It already felt like summer despite it being several months away. Trying to make the best of it, you and Janis decided to head over to Regina's to hang out since it was currently spring break. Janis got into the driver's seat with you in the passenger's side. And it was like a switched flipped in her once she started driving. Her hands were all over you while you sat uncomfortably. You shot her a look, displeased right as she stopped at a light. "Babe, what the hell are you doing?"

"You look so cute in that dress..." She grins, hand squeezing your thigh, "God...I wish I could just eat you up."

You snorted a laugh, "I'm not about to have you pull over somewhere just so you can eat me out." "Who says I have to do that to make you feel good, baby?" A smirk forms on her face as her fingers started to trail your thigh, making you squirm because you were ticklish. As much as you tried to play it cool, you couldn't deny that you were becoming just a little turned on by the idea. You shrug. "So you're okay with it?" Janis asks for confirmation.

"Yeah." You answered curtly. Her hand moved to the space between your thighs and you feel her fingers push your underwear out of the way before they began to tease your folds. Truthfully, this whole situation made you a little nervous, but it wasn't like you had the time to think about that. Janis was skilful at making you wet- meaning it never took her long to have you ready to take her fingers or her mouth...or whatever else she had in store for you. Of course, you finding her to be so incredibly attractive also helps when you allowed your mind to wander. The tenderness of her gesture combined with the warmth radiating from her hand was a sure-fire way to rile you up- and the weather? Things were strangely in both of your favours. Janis alternated between finger-fucking you and rubbing your clit which was only just enough to stimulate you and always had you yearning for more. You'd been biting down on your lower lip so you didn't make any noise of seemed suspicious to any possible onlookers, so when Janis finally pulled up in front of Regina's mansion after literally edging you for a half hour you just had to kiss her.

"Calm down, y/n..." She chuckles lowly, hand around the back of your head to pull you in for another kiss, "Hard to think that you said you didn't want to get fucked like this while on our way here, huh? Now you're so needy, aren't you? Can't keep your hands off me."

After a few minutes of a handsy make-out, you both quickly straightened up and rang Regina's doorbell. Seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Cady, wearing a halter swim top and boyshorts. Regina showed up behind her wearing a bikini.

"Oh, fuck me." You mumbled incoherently.

"Baby, I so would." Janis laughs, side stepping the couple to enter. You do the same, your eyes avoiding them.

"What's up with your lip?" Regina asks almost immediately, sitting down on a in-pool lounge chair.

"Nothing." You lie, not about to reveal the sexual antic in the car to the most popular girl in school.

"Yeah, everyone shows up with a bleeding lip and messy hair to my house." She scoffs. "So unless you got into a fight, Janis totally had her way with you in the car." You blushed, sipping your can of soda. You looked at Janis uncomfortably, she just looked at you with a smirk. "Did you seriously wear a t-shirt to the pool, 'Imi'ike? Come on, just take it off- the weather's fucking hot. I'm not gonna save you if you fall in the pool and hit your head."

"I don't see either of you telling her to do the same." Janis retorted, pointing to you.

"She's shy, I'm not gonna force her to do that." Regina chuckles over her words, swirling the drink in the can.

"She seems pretty mad at you." Cady mentioned to Janis.

"No, she's not." Janis said back, the smirk still on her face.

"Well, she looks-"

"Sweetie, I think y/n's just a little...bothered." Regina leans closer to the redhead beside her.

It took a second but, "Oh. Oh, okay. Sorry, I uh- sorry."

Janis snorted trying not to laugh. Regina looks at her amused, "That's the last thing you should be feeling. I feel like we should just...fuck." "What?" Cady shot the blonde a bewildered look. Regina wasn't joking.

"We're all thinking about it...come on." Regina laughs, looking at you then at Janis. "I mean, not exactly like this but now that we're all just here, why not?"

You were still avoiding eye contact with anyone who wasn't your girlfriend, and now maybe even your girlfriend too. But, your body seems to know what it wanted before your mind did, sending a rush of heat down south.

"Look at this poor thing, crossing her legs." Regina brought the attention onto you, glancing at Janis who manages to give her a shrug, "First time for everything right?" "Cady?" Regina asks, looking over her shoulder. "Well..." Cady exhaled, her nostrils flaring, "I'll admit that's always been a fantasy of mine."

"y/n?" Regina asks you softly, complete opposite of her usual tone of voice. It made your heart flutter unwillingly as you licked your lips and flinched at the sore spot.

"If you don't wanna do it, you can just watch...or do whatever you want in this house. She has plenty of games and shit." Janis scooted closer to you to speak, "I don't want you to be uncomfortable. Or I could just take you to the bathroom and y'know."

"The bathroom? You might as well fuck her out here in the open if you want to pick that place. I have guest rooms, Janis." Regina was offended. Your hear Cady laugh, and Janis' eyes leave you. Then, her gaze returns. You look at her. "It's okay, just- let's just do it here. Fuck it." You decided. There was definitely some shock in her eyes when she heard that, but she was genuinely concerned, "Are you sure?"

You nodded silently. "Okay." She cups your cheek in her hand, pulling you closer, "Looks like we're doin' it."

"Safe word is red." Regina declared. Janis immediately attacked your lips with hungry kisses and naturally, she managed to pick you up onto her lap without breaking the contact one bit. "So are we all just focusing on her first or what?" Regina was suddenly beside you. Janis annoyedly yanked the blonde to your chest. "Alright, then." The blonde was impressed, sharing a look with Cady then tilting her head towards you.

"Just...do whatever you think will feel good." Regina encouraged. Your eyes peeled open briefly and you saw the blonde sitting on the floor — in the water, right in front of your face. Your cheeks flushed as she put a finger through the shoulder strap of your sundress, pushing it down just enough to reveal your breast. While Janis trailed wet kisses down from your lips to your jaw, you let a whimper slip when she found the particularly sensitive spot on your neck. With Cady's hand still stagnant on your thigh, you feel Regina pinching your nipple. That was when Cady started to grope your thigh, moving in sync with her girlfriend's movement. This 'triple-threat' clouded your mind so quickly that you forgot what you were even apprehensive of. You simply had not a single second to think about anything then the rapidly growing pleasure.

————

Janis removes you from her lap, causing them all to detach from you. But before you could grumble, your girlfriend was straddling you, pushing down the other strap of your dress and smoothly pulling the piece of clothing off downwards. Now in nothing but your soaked underwear, the moment of sobriety hits- making you acutely aware that you were almost fully undressed in front of people who wasn't your girlfriend. Regina took this as an opportunity to attach her mouth onto your breast, sucking on it expertly. You whimpered aloud, but the noise was quickly swallowed by Janis' unending kisses. Then, you feel your legs get pushed apart and the absence of a pair of lips on yours. Your eyes darted downwards and saw Janis face to face with your pussy. And Cady...she was- oh, now working your other breast, pinching and twisting the hardened tip like no one's business. As you tried to fight the urge to kiss someone, Janis' tongue lightly flicked your heated clit, watching your reactions closely. But her gently moves were no longer sufficient. You blindly found her head and held her close with your hand. Regina pulls away from you to watch your face, as you whined about the loss of that one form of stimulation, your eyes somehow saw the blonde touching herself. "OH, fuck." You panted, "Regina - can- can I kiss you?"

"Thought you'd never ask." She smirked, your head tilted to capture her lips, her hand was cupping your cheek to keep you from moving- just like how Janis' was, so that you were not squirming about. Cady begins to suck on your neck so aggressively that you simply found it impossible to hold back anymore - a particular loud whine echoed through the space when Cady also found the same sensitive spot in the crook of your neck. Regina laughs into the kiss, Janis responded by squeezing your thigh- all of which to force you to open your mouth and let them hear you.

"Let me hear you, okay, baby?" Janis requested gently knowing that it'd definitely work on you.

"Are we making you feel so good, y/n?" Regina's hand migrated to your chin, managing to squeeze just about both of your cheeks, you nodded impatiently, "I wanna hear you, okay? No more holding back. Me, Janis and Cady want to hear just how good we're fucking you, you little slut."

"Hey!" Janis exclaimed with a gasp.

"I-it's fine." You swallowed harshly, "Ja- Janis, keep going." She didn't say anything but you felt her again, so there's that. You felt yourself approaching the peak at a steady pace, but when you felt two fingers slip inside of you, the paced just picked up a ton. Especially with Cady apparently now rubbing your clit to add on to it. You felt the need to go onto your side, and they didn't stop you but just went along with it. Janis couldn't care about how you were presented in front of her, as long as she could continue sucking you dry and making you cry— almost. Regina stuck her tongue into your mouth making you moan in return. And fucking hell, this whole set up was something you never thought you'd be involved in, yet here you are being the centre of attention. "She's crying, Janis." Regina realised as she broke away, "You alright?" As dirty this act felt, you knew they all cared about you. It wasn't just for them. But because Regina pulled away from the kiss, so did your hand on her breast.

"I'm fine—" You assured, back arching off the chair at the same time you fell back flat on it. Janis was forcing your legs open at this point, assaulting your nearly-overstimulated bundle of nerves to get you over the edge. "She's close." Janis spoke while her face was buried in you, it made you cry out. Then her tongue pushes into your entrance just to give you more. "Fuck!" You let out, nearly screaming. Everything- every little bit of touch, contact, anything at all sent shocks down your spine as you inched closer to your high. There was no doubt both Janis and Cady could feel how erratic you were. But Regina was no fool, giving you all that she's got to help the two girls shove you into overdrive. Janis smacks you repeatedly, sending needy noises and vulgarities spewing from your usually nice mouth. The three of them ogling at you while you started seeing stars, feeling yourself throbbing. "God, y/n. i never would've expected this from you...so loud." She chuckles into your ear, "I'm so close too, baby. Keep going, that's it- let me hear you moaning and whining for us, you little plaything..."

"Cads, switch please?" Regina asks hopefully, right at the second where Janis stops everything.

"Oh, my God..." You squirmed, "Janis-"

Cady quietly switched places wth Regina, allowing the blonde to finally feast her eyes on your drenched cunt. But that wasn't all...no. She didn't just take her spot. Regina fucking George climbs on top of you, her legs bracketing either of your sides. Her bare ass hovering above your face, her voluptuous breasts pressed against your torso were not on your list of possible occurrences — ever.

Holding her hair out of the way in one hand, Regina proceeds to traap your clit in her mouth. "Oh, my God—" Three words. That's all you could get out before Cady tilts your head towards her and kissed you. She shut you up, but your mouth wanted to moan, whimper, whine...all of it. You couldn't take this intensity much longer: Cady was groping your breasts and making out with you, Regina was sucking onto your clit like it was candy and Janis? She was as good as slamming into your sore cunt like this was her last chance to do so. All of them were merciless, savouring your moment of desire for touch. And more. All of them had one goal in mind...

You somehow manage to get out of Cady's hold on you, "Shit, guys- I'm so —" They didn't want that- they wanted to hear your needy little noises. They were a determined trio, and you easily submitted to them being so close. You were holding back your orgasm, wanting to feel more until you absolutely couldn't take it. "Think you can give us one, my love?" Janis peppered soft kisses on your inner thighs, her fingers still going in and out of you but sluggishly. You reflexively shook your head no, wanting her to go faster. "Please go faster, Janis. Please." You begged tearfully. "I need- I want more."

Her fingers rammed into you just like you'd asked, the other two of them picking up their paces too as you wished for. The coil in your core threatens to let go. You whined loudly, and it was like they could read your mind. "Come on, baby. I know you can do it." Janis coaxed, "Come for me, baby..." She feels your muscles clenching and she pokes at your g-spot intentionally for a few times before retracting her fingers. "Off." Janis demanded and the blonde quickly detached her mouth to let Janis take you. You unraveled, back arching off the surface as the release gushed from you into her mouth. Janis chuckles contently, kissing you there before lapping you up. You were moaning throughout each second of your orgasm, giving their eyes and ears a sinful treat.

Janis was trying to clean you up but the blonde and her redhead clearly had other ideas. "I think she can give us one more, Janis. What do you think?" Cady asks.

As much as Janis was worried, seeing how badly your body trembled, she was the only one who knew for a fact you could come again. She's done it before- and during both your first times. "Are you up for it, my love?"

Your mind's turned to mush, desperate for more pleasure. Still hearing your heart pounding in your ears, you gave them the green light and so, they carried out their ministrations for a second time from you. Janis let them do it- Regina rubs your clit while Cady finally had her turn to fuck you with her fingers. Janis watched, enjoying the little show before her eyes. Before any of you knew it, the clear gush of liquid proceeded to come out of you nearly drenching Janis in the face. "Holy shit." Regina stops, chuckling in disbelief. "Wow." Cady pulls her slicked covered fingers out swiftly, tempted to lick them clean. Regina notices and just put them into the redhead's move, raising a brow, "Go on, taste her." Regina climbs off of you, letting Janis take over. "Good girl." Janis presses a kiss to your lips, "You're alright, hm?"

"I know," You said back tearfully, "I know, I just- oh. my. god."

"You did incredible." Regina winked, "It was good, wasn't it?"

"Good?" You panted, "I can barely breathe now."

"Never would've thought something like this would actually happen." Cady grins, "You...taste so sweet."

"I know." Janis smirked, kissing you again.

"We should do this again." Regina decided.

"Not today you're not." You instantly informed her.

Regina shrugged calmly, "Sure, you watch us three then."

[gardenofnoah]

i’m coming up on a year of having this blog and i thought i’d do something with this drabble that i can’t stop thinking about so. yeah! thanks for reading my little stories and saying such nice things to me for a whole year <3 love u 

summary: in his 40s, touya isn’t expecting anything outside of his normal, comfortable routine. you come along and give him far more than he ever wanted. oddly enough, he doesn’t think he minds. 

tags: MDNI, i’ll call this a medium burn, mentions of drinking, reader uses she/her pronouns and is called a lady,etc, age gap (unspecified but like 10 years--both are consenting adults), very little angst (like, the least i’ve ever written. this is just cute, if you can believe that.), smut (dry humping, oral), this is very much a comfort fic to me idk. wc: 10.1k

much to his utter disdain, Touya sees you everywhere after your first encounter. and often. 

you have this awful habit of just popping up. in the stool next to him at the bar, with such regularity that his friends now joke about it being your stool, and then around town—everywhere he goes. it’s a small town, sure—but he still finds it ridiculous. even more ridiculous—the fact that you might be growing on him, despite all his resistance. 

he doesn’t know when he started expecting you to hop up on that stool every friday. has no idea when he memorized your drink order, or when he started ordering it for you preemptively. this goes on every friday for weeks—until you don’t show up.

and he’s irritated then, because it makes him sore—where else could you possibly be? 

“where’s your girl?”

“don’t know,” he mutters. he catches the smirk on his friend’s face out of the corner of his eye. “and she’s not my fuckin’ girl.”

that makes him laugh, and Touya turns away in a huff, face burning. 

“sure she’s not.”

it’s another two weeks before he sees you. not that he was counting. 

when he sees you again, it’s a tuesday, and he’s just wrapped up at his neighbor’s house. he carries two loaves of bread in one arm, and his toolbox in the other. the old woman had chased him out of there early, telling him, “it’s a nice night. go out there and find you someone!”.  he snorts, kicking a bit of asphalt down the pavement. that old bat acts worse than his mother. 

there are a few vendors lined up along the road, so he lets himself take his time—strolling casually, eyes raking over the stalls. it is a nice evening—warm, but the breeze is cool as it rustles through his hair. he sees a white tip from the corner of his eye and it almost startles him. it doesn’t matter how much distance he puts between himself and Dabi—it still surprises him when he realizes that he is not the same. physically or otherwise. 

lost in his thoughts, he finds himself nearly home when he sees you in his peripheral, taking something from the merchant of the produce stall across the street. he has half a mind to turn and walk the opposite way (away from his house) just to avoid this interaction—still wholly irritated over wasting the $7 on your stupid little drink, and that’s all—but you seem to have a weird sixth sense when it comes to him, and your head snaps up in his direction right before he can make a break for it. you give him that stupid smile that he has to look away from, waving at him happily before you take off in his direction. 

he considers if he still has time to flee, but then you’re there in front of him. 

“Touya!” you beam up at him, totally ignoring the scowl he levels you with, “what are you doing here?”

“i live here,” he grumbles, looking away from you again, “what are you doing here?”

“ah, i visit my family on tuesdays. whatcha got there?” 

he pointedly looks down at the bread in his arms, and back up at you. you’re looking at it a little too intensely, eyebrows scrunched together like you’re trying to figure something out—and then the moment’s gone, and you’re smiling up at him again. 

“want to share?” you ask, holding up your bag of produce to him. 

he doesn’t, but he finds himself next to you anyway, sitting on a retaining wall while you chatter away—kicking your feet out and handing him slices of an orange between your own bites. 

he learns more about you. early 30s (so not as young as he’d guessed, but still young enough to make him cringe), living alone like he is. you grew up in town, moved away for a while, and then came back. you don’t really like sweets but you do like fruit—hence the overflowing tote bag full of it—and you’re more inclined to reach for tea than coffee. you own the little flower shop a few blocks down. he thinks it suits you—and then he shakes his head, trying to dislodge the thought. 

“i’m having an issue with the floor though, so part of the shop has been blocked off for a few weeks. not great for the foot traffic, but what can you do,” you shrug absentmindedly, more focused on digging another piece of fruit out of your bag. you settle on a peach, and it’s quiet between you for a beat. as if waiting for the silence, the thought that he’d been holding back for the better part of an hour finds its way out of his mouth. 

“haven’t seen you at the bar,” he mutters, picking a stringy bit of peel off the orange piece he’s been holding. 

“huh? oh, yeah. i had a wedding order that i was working on. it was so….much,” you shudder like you went off to war instead. “why, did you miss me?”

he looks away, eyes narrowed in a scowl. “just was a waste of a drink, s’all.”

he regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth. 

“a drink? my—oh. wait.”

your eyes go wide—he should’ve known you’d catch on to the meaning behind his words and he wants to die—

“forget it—“

“Touya,” you cut him off, and he can hear your shit eating grin, “were you hoping to see me?”

he’s sure he’s gone bright red and resists the urge to recede into himself like a snail into a shell. now he’s irritated, because did you think your drink just magically appeared in front of you every friday? he can feel the smugness radiating off of you—you want him to say it. he huffs, still looking away from you. 

“just…was a waste of money,” he grits out, knowing fully that he hasn’t worried about money in quite some time, “figured you’d be there.” 

you hum, and he still can’t look at you. refuses to, actually. 

“sorry, Touya,” you tell him, and it sounds so genuine that he finds himself turning to you, just to check—to make sure you’re not fucking with him. “i’ll be sure to let you know the next time i won't be there.” 

he rolls his eyes at the way you’re smiling softly at him, always like you know something he doesn’t. he mumbles out a clipped “whatever” and he hates the way he sounds like he did when he was 23. you don’t pay it any mind though, right back to talking his ear off. 

“so do you live, like, really alone? or do you have a pet? you strike me as a gerbil guy.” 

he huffs out a laugh at that, caught wholly off guard at the thought of being the gerbil guy (have you seen him?) and you smile at the sound, clearly pleased with yourself. 

“no gerbil. a dog,” he finally takes a bite of the orange he’s been cradling in his palm for the better half of the last 20 minutes. your eyes don’t leave him. 

“mm. chihuahua,” you say solemnly, and he whips his head around to look at you, expression all twisted and incredulous. 

“a big fuckin’ dog, you brat.” 

you laugh at his outburst, seeming to get some sort of pleasure out of riling him up. 

“can i meet him?” 

he looks at you then, and you’re really laying it on thick—wide eyes blinking up at him, bottom lip jutted out in a little pout. he can’t find it in himself to say no to you. with a sigh, he pushes himself up from the wall. 

“c’mon then.” 

it’s a short walk to his place and you’re vibrating behind him. shoving his key into the lock, he hears the familiar thumping of a tail, at about the same frequency as your incessant excitement at his back—he wonders just what he’s done to attract this level of energy. 

“wait a minute—he’s going to jump at you—“

“oh, who cares. let me see him!” 

he shakes his head, swinging open the door. he sees his big oaf of a dog rear up to jump, and then—

and then his jaw drops, because for what may very well be the first time, his dog is suddenly sitting. 

you squeal and the dog isn’t much better off—practically wiggling away from his spot on the floor and whining at the sight of you, but still sitting. 

“Touya!” you laugh, shoving past him to throw your arms around the dog’s neck, squeezing him tightly, “i know this dog!”

“you—huh?” 

“i—“ your own laugh cuts you off, giggling while the dog fights your grip to lick you directly on the face, “i know him! did you get him at the shelter in town?”

“…yeah?”

“oh man! i used to volunteer—i was there when he was dropped off. i was with him all the time—taught him some manners—but then i took that job out of town for a little bit, so i didn’t get to see him after that.” 

Touya, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his dog is sitting, can’t bring himself to formulate a coherent reply. 

“oh, i was so worried about him,” you say quietly, hugging the dog tighter, “i’m really glad you have him. what did you name him?”

that snaps him out of it, and he looks away, sheepish. 

“i—uh. didn’t.” 

you blink at him, processing, and then you frown. 

“are you kidding me?”

he shrugs, looking at the dog— who, also for the first time, seems to be glaring at him with the same sentiment. 

you sigh, shaking your head. “that won’t do,” you mutter, more to the dog than to him. “i think i called him Buck.” 

as if on cue, Buck’s tail thumps against the floor. 

“why?” 

“not sure,” you say, scratching behind a fuzzy ear, “he just reminded me a little bit of a deer.” 

Touya scoffs, completely in the dark as to how the two were even remotely similar. 

“alright. Buck it is, then.” 

you smile, patting the dog on the head as if he’d done anything worth rewarding. with a sigh you get to your feet, stretching a bit. 

“i really do have to go see my family now,” you tell him, and he swears he hears a tiny bit of regret in your voice, “but thanks for letting me see Buck.” 

he only nods, watching you bend down to kiss Buck square on his stupid blockhead. 

“see you Friday?”

he swallows thickly, nodding again. your eyes are too bright. 

“okay. see you, Touya.” 

“hey,” he stops himself from reaching for you as you go to open the door, “i can…look at that floor for you. if y’want.” 

every time he thinks he’s used to the way you just throw your emotions around like live grenades, he’s not—you smile at him so brightly he thinks you might just kill him. 

you have a hunch that Touya is secretly a really good guy. 

it’s almost endearing—how hard he tries to be so prickly—but it’s always all for naught, because he can’t help but go out of his way to do things for you. 

you don’t know what to call the relationship—you gathered enough information from hushed whispers to his friends anytime he left his stool at the bar to know that he pointedly did not seek out the affections of women (“or men,” one of his friends said with a shrug, like they weren’t really sure). you weren’t clear on where that left you, so you were content to keep learning what you could about him—to stick around, as long as he tolerated you. 

and he just barely does that, but you have a hunch it’s a farce. especially when take out cups full of freshly steeped tea start appearing on your counter in the shop, more days than not.

you lean against the wood top, sipping today's tea with both hands to warm yourself while you watch Touya work. autumn was in full swing now, and you had some difficulty keeping the shop to your preferred level of warmth, but it didn’t seem to bother him. your eyes linger on the hem of his old t-shirt, rising up in the back just a little when he reached for a different tool. it was obvious that time had softened him a bit, but he was still in shape. your vision followed the faded, looping scar that moved with the curl of his bicep as he worked each tool. it was hard not to stare. 

it was even harder to get away with it. 

“you’ll burn a hole in my head, brat.” 

“just checking your work,” you tell him through a grin. trying very hard to feign nonchalance.

“oh yeah?” Touya looks at you over his shoulder, smirking at you. you feel it bodily. “what’s the verdict?” 

“looks….” you pause, examining the array of tools and the sizable hole he’s created in the floor, “yeah. yep. like good work.”

he scoffs, shaking his head and turning back to the task at hand. you resist the urge to slam your head off the counter—settling for tapping in lightly as reprimand for your less than intelligent response. 

you decide that the best way to get the embarrassment to dissipate is to do the thing that is quickly becoming your favorite activity: bothering him. 

“pick a color.” 

“what?”

“i said pick a color, grandpa.”

the sigh he lets out makes you laugh. “you fuckin’—fine. red. what’re you doing?” 

you smile at him, and you watch him flush. it makes you giddy. 

“nothing,” you drawl, sing-songy and incriminating, “don’t you worry your little heart about it.” 

“you are the worry to my little heart,” he deadpans, not bothering to look up from the measurement he’s taking. 

another thing you learn about Touya—he’s got a bit of a (dry) sense of humor. he seems to enjoy making you laugh.

there’s a lull in customers and you use it to your advantage—you go around to every bucket to ensure that each cut stem is submerged, and take out the wilted ones to dry. you don’t sell those ones—you just hang them up around the shop. you think it’s better not to waste them. 

you also pull out some good looking red ones, as inconspicuous as you can—you gather a tulip, a few poppies, a peony, and a big, variegated chrysanthemum for the center. 

you hold the makeshift bouquet behind your back as you approach Touya—padding over to him quietly until you’re close enough to lean into his space. 

“whatcha thinking about?” 

he spares you a pointed glance over his shoulder. “pest control.” 

“har har,” you plop down right next to him, grinning at the way he bristles. of course it’s all for show—he doesn’t move an inch. 

“made you something.” 

“hm?”

you bring the bouquet out from behind your back, brandishing it in front of him dramatically. “tada!”

his eyes go wide—you see it take a minute for him to process that you’re giving him a gift. he sets his tools down and reaches for it, tentatively, like you’re going to fake him out at the last second. you meet him halfway, setting it in his hands. 

“well?” you ask after a minute, “what do you think? i do pretty well, right?” 

he’s quiet—turning the flowers over and back again, like he’s committing all of the little petals to memory. “what are they?”

you tell him about each flower—where they grow naturally, what conditions they like to live in, how to take care of them. he listens intently, never looking away from them. 

“you don’t have to keep them,” you tell him after another moment of silence, “it was just a silly thing.”

“no,” he says, firmly. he looks at you out of the corner of his eye and lets out a breath, looking back down at the flowers. “s’nice. thanks.” 

you have to physically stop yourself from jumping up and cheering. 

“you’re welcome, old man,” you murmur, nudging his shoulder with your own.

he groans, grumbling a lighthearted “get away from me” as he shoves you back playfully. you let out some sort of dramatic squeal as you topple over, and you don’t miss the tiny smile that stretches across his face as he sets the flowers down next to him and gets back to work. 

customers come in and out throughout the afternoon—most not paying any mind to Touya as he works. there are a few customers that eye him hesitantly—and there are one or two that stare pointedly at the scars that split his face. it feels like second nature to drop the customer service persona then—and to do things like drop their change on the counter and revel in the way they scramble to catch it before it rolls off onto the floor. 

“have the best day,” you say to one particularly rude customer, all but shooing her out of the door. 

Touya huffs out a laugh when you walk back toward him. “didn’t think you had it in you, kid.” 

you cock an eyebrow at him. “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“surprised you didn’t kick out her kneecaps on the way out.” 

“yeah, well,” you huff, waving a hand at the thought of someone so dreadfully rude, “she would’ve deserved it.” 

“why’s that?”

you meet his eyes, then, and for the first time since you met him you think about the fact that they’ve seen terrible things. you knew of Touya, of course—all of Japan did. you knew he’d been through something awful and did things that you couldn’t imagine the man in front of you doing now. you know that he would not be surprised if you told him the reason why you felt she deserved it. you wonder if it bothers him the way it bothers you, or if time has hardened him to his own mistreatment. 

“don’t worry about it,” you tell him, walking back behind the counter. 

you haven’t seen much of Touya for the last few weeks. 

you’d gotten another big order—what would probably be one of the last before winter really set in— so you were busy. he’d stop by sometimes with the excuse of checking the floor (and always with a tea for you in hand), but you learn that he’s uncomfortable with lingering, and he’s usually gone as quickly as he came. 

you don’t mind—it’s nice to know he’s thinking of you. you’ve just been wondering if it’s in the way you want him to—and a lot more than you should be, lately. 

you concede to having a little crush on him. who wouldn’t? he’s incredibly sweet in his own way and very nice to look at and you suppose anyone would if they’d gotten the opportunity to get to know him over the several months that you have. so what if you’re thinking about where he’s at or if he’s eaten lunch or if he’s at the bar without you, more often than not? it’s just a little secret you keep to yourself.

you try not to think about how it’s one that would make him never speak to you again if he found out about it. 

you let out a groan, looking down at the half-formed bundle of alstroemeria and eucalyptus in your hands. you’d been staring at it for 20 minutes now and the motivation to continue just wasn’t coming. you suppose it was as good of a time as any to take a break. 

standing up from the floor and stretching your arms above your head, your spine rewards you with a few satisfying pops as you get yourself moving again. your eyes scan the shop, surveying the damage—most of it caused by you in the last few weeks, with scraps of paper wrap and loose stems strewn about. the shop could definitely use a deep cleaning, but little things like that were just part of routine upkeep, so you don’t mind. it’s only when you roll out your neck that you spot it: a tiny, but noticeable, brown stain on the ceiling that certainly wasn’t there before. you lift your phone above your head to snap a picture of it. 

sent 5:57pm>>> hi. do you think this is a big deal

received 5:59pm>>> looks like water damage

received 5:59pm>>> when did that happen?

sent 6:00 pm>>> not sure. just saw it

sent 6:00 pm>>> if i just pretend it’s not there will it go away?

received 6:01 pm>>> that ever worked for you before?

sent 6:04 pm>>> i don’t like your tone 

received 6:06 pm>>> cry about it. i’ll be over to look at it tomorrow

you smile at his brashness, setting your phone down on the counter. it really was very hard to not be enamored by him. you shake your head, trying to get rid of the thought like a wrong  answer in a magic 8 ball. you have no such luck, but you realize what time it is and feel relieved. It’s tuesday—you can finally start getting ready to see your family. 

you clean up and pull on the spare coat you have in the shop storage room, locking the shop door behind you as you leave. your grandparents don’t live far—just a mile or so down the road, and it’s not too cold to walk yet, so you don’t mind the trek. 

you have a standing weekly visit at your grandparents’ place. they’re just about the only family you have left, and they’re slowing down a bit. it’s meaningful to you to spend time with them when you can—even if your grandmother insists on filling it with her insistence that you find a boyfriend.

you know she means well, so you tolerate it. your grandparents’ love story is one for the ages—high school sweethearts, together and in love ever since. the dynamic is an amusing one—your grandmother, ever the chatterbox, and your grandfather, only ever amused and endeared by his wife’s inherent ability to take up space. you have always really admired their relationship, but a small part of you believed for a long time that there was something wrong with you for not being able to have the same thing. now that you’re older, you don’t feel that way—but that doesn’t make being on the receiving end of the badgering any easier. 

like you’ve summoned her with your thoughts, she’s on the front stoop when you approach the house—hand already on her hip like she’s winding up to start her lecture.

“i was starting to think you wouldn’t come!”

“am i late?” you ask genuinely, pulling your phone out to check the time. 6:26pm—you’re early. 

“you might as well be!” she quips, pulling you into a hug. you can smell dinner cooking through the open window behind her. you close your eyes, content to be held in the moment. you miss this feeling of home every time you leave—

“alright you old bat, s’fixed. you gotta quit dumping cooking oil down the—oh.”

your eyes snap open at the familiar voice and you find blue eyes staring back at you, shocked as you’ve ever seen them. you blink, still mid-embrace and trying to comprehend why Touya is standing in your grandmother’s doorway. or why he’s a little sweaty and dirty and wearing that tight old t-shirt. if he’s always worn a bandana to keep the hair out of his eyes, or if that’s a new thing and either way, why haven’t you seen it? it takes another long minute before you remember how to get words to come out of your mouth. 

“i–uh. hi...hi Touya.” you stutter a little, and your grandmother notices that you’ve gone completely rigid in her arms. she pulls away to look at you, and then at Touya, and back to you—

and your stomach drops when you see the most shit eating grin spread across her face. 

you give her your best you wouldn’t dare look. 

she just smiles at you sweetly as if to say: i absolutely would.

“do you have dinner plans, Mr. Todoroki?”

he blinks. “i–uh–”

“no? excellent. go wash up! you can join us.”

she starts back up to the door with more pep in her step than you’ve seen in a long time, patting Touya’s shoulder before shoving him unceremoniously to the side with surprising strength and walking back into the house. 

you’re left out there together, both clearly still trying to play catch up. true to your nature, you’re the first to break the silence.

“i see you’ve met my grandmother,” you say with a laugh, starting up the steps. he shakes himself in time to open the door for you.

“you’re related to that dinosaur?”

you pin him with your best glare. “that’s not nice. she came after the dinosaurs.”

he follows in after you, the smallest smirk on his face. that you caused it makes your chest feel light. 

dinner is relatively tame. to your genuine surprise, your grandmother sticks to easy topics, save for one comment about how you’re “getting up there” and should start thinking about children. 

“oh my god, Mam,” you squeeze the bridge of your nose, exasperated. you look to Touya for help—who is clearly very amused and not interested in saving you from this. 

“i’m just saying,” you grandmother waves a dismissive hand at you, “now who wants dessert?”

you leave the house a few hours later—with Touya in tow, because he refused to let you walk home in the dark by yourself. you certainly don’t mind the company.

“i can’t believe i didn’t put it together that you knew my grandparents,” you say, shaking your head. no wonder those bread loaves, months ago now, had looked so familiar. 

“been helpin’ them out with maintenance stuff around the house,” he mutters, the hands in his pockets the only indication that he feels the evening chill, “they’re good people.”

the way that he talks about them makes you feel warm. “i’m really happy to hear that,” you sigh. you bump into him, and he stays close. “i’m sorry you have to put up with all of my grandmother’s antics though.”

he huffs a laugh, looking at you from the corner of his eye, “s’not so bad. except maybe when she’s trying to arrange a marriage for me with half the town.”

“oh god,” you turn to him in absolute horror, “she does that to you, too? i thought it was just because i’m her grandkid. she really wants to have great grandkids.”

he laughs when you shudder. “what, you’re not gonna give ‘em to her?”

you make a face at that. “no. kids are great, just…not really something i ever wanted.”

you think you see him physically deflate with something akin to relief out of the corner of your eye. you smile and try not to read into it. 

the wind picks up and you shiver. Touya blinks down at you.

“you didn’t think to wear a thicker coat?”

you roll your eyes pointedly at him. “no, dad, i didn’t.”

he scowls at you, clearly not entertained, but then he’s shrugging off his own jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“what are you doing? it’s too cold!”

“s’fine,” he mutters, brushing up against you with each step, “can’t really feel it.”

you go quiet while you consider this, eyes drifting to the textured skin that wraps around his bicep. there’s an ache in your chest that flares up whenever you think about Touya, small and proud and burned within an inch of his life. you wonder if he still feels it, 30 some odd years later. you want to reach for him, but you think better of it.

“do they hurt still?” you ask quietly, after a moment. 

“sometimes.”

you get the sense that he wouldn’t mind if you asked more, but you’re not sure what to say. you don’t think it would be fair to ask him to relive any of it to satisfy your own curiosity. there’s just one thing you’d still like to know. 

“are you angry?”

he gives you a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes when he looks down at you. his gaze is searching, like he’s looking for your fear—fear of him, of what he’s done. you know he won’t find any. 

“no.”

the rest of the walk home is shrouded in comfortable silence, save for the crunch of shoes against pavement. all too quickly you’re at the door to the shop again.

you dig for the keys for your apartment on the second floor while Touya leans against the door frame, watching you. 

you feel the metal dig into your palm when you close your fist around them. you look back up at him, and it’s almost startling how soft he looks right now. unguarded.

“can i hug you?” you ask, startling yourself a little. he’s so clearly not a touchy guy, but you hope he’ll indulge you—just this once. 

his eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then his face smooths back into his practiced stoicism. he rolls his eyes, but steps forward anyway. you feel like you just won the lottery. 

“make it quick, brat.”

you nearly tackle him in your excitement and you hear him grumble next to your ear. you feel an arm loop around your shoulders, and you are suddenly very aware that your little crush is far larger than you thought. you file it away for later, because the beat of his heart against your ear feels far more important right now. everything about him is warm—you stifle a sigh at the immediate comfort that rolls over you like a wave. 

“now go inside before y’get sick.”

you resist the urge to pout. you stay there for another beat—and he doesn’t move either. 

you untangle yourself from him with a sigh. if you didn’t know any better, you’d interpret the look on his face as something close to disappointment. you start shrug your shoulders out of his jacket to hand it back to him, but he stops you.

“just, ah—” he starts, looking away from you, “give it back to me tomorrow. when i fix your fuckin’ mess.”

you raise an eyebrow, posturing to argue, but something in his expression tells you not to.

“okay,” you say finally, quiet between you, “be careful going home. goodnight, Touya.”

he lingers for a moment more before letting out a little grunt and turning on his heel. your eyes trail over the expanse of his shoulders as he grows fainter down the road until he disappears into the dark.

you drag yourself up the stairs, suddenly feeling exhausted. you stumble through the dark of your apartment until your knees knock into your bed frame. you fall into bed face first, not bothering to change or even get under the covers. still wrapped in the jacket that smells like him.

you dream of fire that warms but doesn’t burn. 

“good morning, Mr. Todoroki.”

Touya nearly comes out of his skin, hissing as he hits his head off of the counter he’s crouched under. it would be impressive, how stealthy the old bat was, if it wasn’t so god damned annoying.

“how many times do i have to tell you not to call me that?” he grumbles, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head as he gets to his feet. she only chuckles.

“you’ll have to forgive me for not addressing you with the same familiarity that my granddaughter does.”

he whips his head around to look at her—which he finds to be a mistake, because she’s just looking at him with that knowing old lady smirk that makes his skin itch. 

“don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he mutters, stooping down to lodge himself as far under the counter as he needs to to avoid the rest of this conversation. 

“oh, please. do i look like i was born yesterday?”

he pauses, mid crouch, to look back at her over his shoulder. she clicks her tongue at him. “don’t answer that.”

“i think it would be nice for you both to have…companionship,” she settles on the last word like it’s not really what she wanted to say, and it reminds him far too much of his mother. usually he’d shut this conversation down, but for a reason unknown to him, he doesn’t. 

“don’t y’think i’m a little too old for her?” he asks, half-joking. he’d be a liar to say that he hadn’t thought about it at length. 

she waves a dismissive hand at him, rolling her eyes. “oh please—you wouldn’t know too old if it hit you upside the head.” 

he hides another smirk from her—which she seems to expect anyway, shaking her head with a sigh. 

“you’re both babies still,” she says quietly, with all of the wisdom and yearning of someone who has lived as long as she has, “you have nothing but time. just don’t waste it.”

Touya’s not sure when the shift happened, but he’s acutely aware that it has happened. 

he’s doesn’t know when he started allowing you to touch him. he’s usually uncomfortable with that sort of thing—it tends to aggravate his skin and it does well to make him feel queasy. but you lay your arm over his to show him something about your flowers on your phone, and he doesn’t feel any urge to reel back from you. he wants to be surprised at his lack of reaction, but he supposes he’s not—proximity to him has always been something you’ve insisted on, physical or otherwise. 

the bar is crowded tonight, which leaves him feeling uneasy. the noise level grates at his nerves and he finds himself having to lean into you just to hear what you’re saying. it sours his mood immensely. 

he’s scowling into his beer when he feels you crowd his space. his head snaps up, ready to gripe at you, and he finds you’re turned away from him. he looks around you and sees that your space has been crowded—by some rowdy little punk he’s never seen before.

immediately and on some sort of primal instinct, Touya wraps an arm around you, yanking you into his side. you brace yourself with a hand on his chest to avoid flat out headbutting his chin. 

“hey,” he snarls over your head, eyes like daggers at the offender, “watch where you’re fuckin’ going.”

the man turns around, posturing to defend himself, but one look at Touya has his eyes widening in the same expression of fear that he sees on everyone else’s face. usually the reaction sits in his stomach like a rock, but this time, he revels in it. “and while you’re at it, you can apologize to her.”

his looks down at the ground immediately, unwilling to spend another minute under scrutiny. 

“sorry about that,” he mutters dejectedly. Touya feels your grip tighten around the hem of his shirt, but to his surprise, you say nothing. 

“get the fuck out of here,” he barks, and he holds back a laugh as the man does just that—completely forgetting about the drink he ordered. 

shaking his head, he lets you go—expecting you to scramble away from him and back to your stool. he feels himself cringe—he probably embarrassed you.

he’s worried when he realizes you’re still tethered to him by the fabric of his shirt. 

“hey,” he murmurs, trying to push you back gently to look at your face, “you alright, kid? you’re not hurt, are you?”

you let go of him, albeit reluctantly. you only move back far enough to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. he can only think of how close you are.

“Touya,” you rasp, cheeks flushed and looking at him through half-hooded eyes, “that was, um—really hot.”

he blinks at you, a little dumbfounded. his eyes rake over your face, trying to find the punchline somewhere. wholly anticipating you to snap out of it and laugh at him—to tell him what a fool he is for falling for such a cruel joke.

but your expression never changes, and he realizes at once that it’s one of desire. 

a shudder wracks up his spine. he pulls you toward him again, splaying his fingers across your back to feel the way it arches into him. he dips his head down, lips next to your ear. fighting a smirk at the way you shiver in his hold.

“come back to mine?”

you nod emphatically, and he’d tease you about it if he wasn’t feeling the same level of urgency. he throws a couple bills on the bar top and all but hauls you out the door. he has no idea what he’s doing, but he’s half out of his mind right now and can’t find it within himself to think it over before he does something he might regret. 

his own desire is nearly stifling, and he finds he can’t go another minute without something to satiate him, if only for a moment. he pulls you into the alley next to the bar, crowding you against the brick.

“you drunk?” he asks suddenly—slivers of rationality making it through the haze of such thick lust. you laugh a little, breathy and overwhelmed. he can see the puff of steam from your exhale between you in the cold. 

“not at all,” you murmur, reaching for him. you wrap a finger around one of his belt loops and pull him toward you—he knows with an unsettling certainty that he’d do whatever you asked him to right now. the knowledge burns him from the inside.

“tell me to stop,” his lips are only a breath away from yours, and yet he almost wishes you would tell him to stop, because he’s not sure what comes after this. he’s alarmed by the weight of his own need, and he has a hunch that whatever happens next may not be enough to quell it. 

he has the sudden and sobering thought that he may never get his fill of you. 

“no,” you breathe, and it’s all he needs to bridge the distance. he’s instantly overwhelmed by the soft warmth of your mouth, and lets out a quiet groan when he feels your tongue swipe at the seam of his. he opens his mouth to taste more of you, and he truly cannot get enough. you pull his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it gently, and he is nearly frantic when he pulls away from you. he feels absolutely debauched and a little humiliated—in his 40-some odd years, he’s never known himself to get so worked up over some kissing. 

“we need to go right now,” he rasps, panting against your mouth. he feels your smile against him and wants to swallow you whole. 

“lead the way, old man.”

he barely registers making it through the door—has no idea how he managed to unlock it, let alone open it—before he has you pressed up against it. to touch you like this feels foreign, and he wants to feel everything. after a moment, he gets impatient with himself. he grabs you around the backs of your thighs, hauling you up and carrying you to his bedroom. he has half a mind to thank Buck later, for not bounding between the two of you and ripping him from whatever trance you have him suspended in right now. 

he drops you onto the bed unceremoniously and is quick to follow, mouth chasing yours on the way down. you pull your shirt off and he helps you with your pants—he can’t help but pull back to marvel at you.

your demeanor changes immediately.

you're entirely too tense, breath hitching and your grip on his arms uncomfortably tight. he pulls back to look at you and you flinch. 

“jesus—the fuck are you so jumpy for?”

"i don't know!" you cross your arms over your chest with a huff, red when you look away from him. "maybe i just don't do this as often as you, okay?"

he snorts, rolling his eyes. "i don't do this often."

it’s not exactly the truth—because the truth is that he doesn't do this at all—but he's still got his pride. he’d been touched before, but mostly in his 20s and only when he was just shy of belligerent. only when he could go numb with the certainty that it would be over quickly and that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 

no one could hold a flame to you, though—sprawled out underneath him, chest heaving and eyes hooded with unbridled desire. something about it makes him want to reach into the ether and stop time with his bare hands. he wants to savor every bead of sweat that rolls down the curve of your breast, every touch that makes your pupils dilate—the primal need to know takes over everything else.

“i just…” you start, lip jutting out with the tiniest pout. he feels insane. “i feel nervous.”

something inside him twists at your admission, and he finds himself wanting to comfort you. it’s a completely unfamiliar feeling, but he leans into it. 

"relax," he murmurs, unwinding your arms and replacing them with his full body weight, directly on top of you. you squeak, and he presses his smile into the crook of your neck. "don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

he feels you slump underneath him—however minutely—and it feels like a reward. and then your hips kick into his, and his brain short circuits. 

he pushes back onto his forearms to look at you, and he's endeared by the flush that creeps up your neck as you avoid his gaze. he finds it cute, how quickly you lay your ego down for him. that in itself is another reward, and one he doesn't take lightly.

you might be a little embarrassed under his stare, but that doesn't stop the roll of your hips. yours is a slow grind up into him and he meets you with one of his own, firm and demanding. your mouth drops open and the way you shudder under him pulls a groan from him. 

"feel good?" he rasps, sneaking a hand around the back of your neck and holding you there, nosing against your cheek until you turn to him.

"yes."

it's borderline pornographic when it leaves you and his hips stutter—he feels it buzzing underneath his skin as it pushes him closer to a place wholly unfamiliar. 

through his jeans, he's sure you can feel him—hot and aching against the flimsy material of your panties. he huffs a laugh against your lips—suddenly acutely aware of the possibility that he may cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. 

you seem to be aware of that, too. 

you kiss him hard and he nearly whines, and then he actually does when you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull. he reels back from you to catch his breath and you don't let him go very far. 

"you feel so good," murmured into his mouth, it's nearly his undoing. 

"you gotta stop," it sounds a lot like a plea when it leaves him, "i can't—i'm gonna—”

you hook a leg around his waist, keeping him pressed to you. he knows at once that he is well and truly fucked in a fundamental and totally unrelated way. 

"no," you drawl, and it's almost a coo in his ear, "i don't think i will."

he doesn't know when you took the upper hand and he doesn't even care. he's lost in the movement of your hips and he knows that there's a mess between you both—he hears the tacky click of damp fabric meeting with every grind into you. 

"you're—fuckin' wet," he grits out, and he's so close. the knowledge of your arousal has him curling in on himself.

you chuckle, like he's stating something so obvious. "how could i not be?"

he rewards you with a particularly sinful thrust, and you keen underneath him. 

"please," you arch into him, "want you to cum."

and he does just that—all the breath is battered out of him with the force of it. his cock throbs with every wave of release in his jeans and he keeps himself pressed snuggly to you, hips thrusting with no particular rhythm as he rides out the last of it. he keeps his face pressed into your neck and lets out a long, broken groan. he stays there—full body weight collapsed on top of you again—and it's a moment before he comes back to his senses enough to feel your fingers scratch over his scalp. 

"fucking hell," he presses a kiss to your throat and you giggle. it warms something inside of him that's hard to shake once it starts. he has the sneaking suspicion—in this fleeting moment of vulnerability—that it started well before now. 

he gathers his wits and pushes back from you. he sees the look on your face and finds that he couldn't go any farther than an arm's length away, even if he tried. 

adoration. it could only be that—you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, and it twists in his gut. he doesn't understand—he's done so many wrong things. you look at him like they don't hang above his head—like you can't see them there.

what a sweet little thing that's found their way into his bed. and deeper than that, it seems. 

"want to taste you," he murmurs, leaning back down to drag his lips over the curve of your jaw. you draw in a shuddering breath, nodding, and it fans his ego immensely. 

he takes his time, then—there's intention behind every warm press of his mouth to every inch of your skin. he takes note of the way your breath hitches, and of what makes you squirm. you tip your head back with a moan when he catches a bead of sweat between the valley of your breasts with his tongue. 

you breathe out a whisper of his name when he latches on to the skin that stretches over your ribs, and he feels his own arousal swell again—sloshing around in his gut, thick and needing. he finds himself grinding his hips into the mattress below him—lazy, really. just enough to dull the ache. 

"hold on," you croak, and he looks up at you, "you’re too dressed."

he looks down at himself and realizes that you’re right—he’s still fully clothed. he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head at his own one track mind, and sits up to take care of it. 

he grabs the back of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head in a fluid motion. he feels your gaze on him and feels a little bashful. he’s even quicker with the jeans—soiled and gross as they are now—shoving them down his hips and kicking them from his ankles until his clad in only his (also gross) boxers and leaning over you again. 

you reach for him, brushing your fingertips over the scar across his chest. he half expects you to pull away—to recoil from him like you should—but you don’t. 

“need you, Touya.”

he could just die. 

"s'that right?" he bends down to press another hot kiss to the skin that stretches between your hips. he fixates on the softness of it, and has to stop himself from nuzzling into it. he'd love to draw this out—to really get you pleading for him like he hopes you would, writhing and so wet underneath him. but his own patience nears its end, so he decides to be merciful. he shuffles down until he's eye level with the damp spot in your panties that makes him curse under his breath. 

"look at you," he breathes, dragging a finger through the mess. you let out a whine, arching to chase what little stimulation he's giving you. "poor thing. y'really do need it."

he doesn't wait for your response before his hooking a finger through the fabric and dragging it off of you. a string of your arousal stretches and snaps with it, and he commits the sight to memory. 

he wastes no time—he sticks his tongue out flat and drags it through your folds, groaning at the slick that coats it. 

"oh fuck," you wheeze, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair to keep him there.

as if you'd ever need to do that. 

he can't get enough of you. so swollen and sweet against his tongue, he's nearly out of his mind with the need for more of it. he dips the tip of his tongue inside you and feels you squeeze around it, and it's unbearable how badly he wants more of you. 

"Touya," you groan out, eyes squeezed shut tight as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks, "please—please don't stop—"

he thinks you're fucking insane for ever believing he would. he pulses his tongue against your clit and revels in the way your back arches as you wail—he reaches up to pinch a pebbled nipple between his heated fingers just to feel you.

"oh fuck, fuck fuck—" the words tumble out of your mouth, slurred and nearly incoherent as he flattens out his tongue and lets you chase your pleasure.

in the throes of it, you reach down to tangle your fingers between his own. he's not sure if you even know that you've done it, but the knowledge that you seek him out for such an innocent display comfort has his heart fluttering in his chest. he gives your nipple a particularly harsh tug with his other hand.

"oh i'm gonna cum—" you cry, hips stuttering with every drag of your sex over his tongue, "please, Touya, i'm gonna—"

he squeezes your fingers when you do, and you let out a sob that goes straight to his cock. he feels you tense up—every muscle rigid for only a moment—and then you let it go, and he's mesmerized. it moves through you violently, like waves crashing into the shore during a storm. he keeps your clit between his lips as you thrash, letting you buck against his face, dragging it out for as long as he can. 

he waits until he hears your breathing return to a semi-normal pace before he cleans you up—with his tongue, light and gentle through your folds, not wanting to waste any of the mess you reward him with. he forgets himself and slips his tongue inside of you—drinking up all of your slick. basking in the way you flutter around him and the sweet slide of you down his throat. he only comes back to himself when you start to tremble, whining at the overstimulation. 

he rests his head on the inside of your thigh and closes his eyes, breathing you in. never in his life has he ever felt so satiated by something—it confuses him, to get so much pleasure from you without you ever even touching him. he feels you squeeze his fingers and realizes he's still holding your hand. 

"you with me, kid?"

you sigh, stretching your free leg out. "think so, old man."

he untangles your fingers to rub at your leg, reaching down to knead at the muscles in your calf. you sigh, light and content, and it makes him smile. it's quiet between you then, and he's grateful that you don't feel the need to fill it. he pulls your leg over his shoulder, moving to massage the outside of your thigh. 

"good to me," you sigh sleepily, and he knows you're only a second from falling asleep. 

he doesn't answer—his throat suddenly feels too thick and he doesn't think he can—he just keeps rubbing your muscles gently until your breathing evens out. 

he finds that he doesn't mind being trapped between your legs like this. when he thinks he might even be able to fall asleep, he realizes for the second time that he's in far deeper than he thought he'd be.

he lets his eyes flutter closed and has a hard time thinking of anything wrong with that. 

there’s another shift, after that. the only person that seems to be oblivious to it is you. 

it’s not that you haven’t noticed, because of course you have. Touya becomes uncharacteristically touchy, literally overnight. you bask in it when you can, because you know it’s fleeting. 

that’s where you split off from, well—everyone else. 

“c’mon kid, you can’t honestly think that.”

you huff, glaring into your drink. Touya’s friends had jumped at the opportunity to heckle you the minute he stood up to go to the restroom. you find it endearing, the way they act like little old ladies, gossiping amongst themselves. 

“we’re not together,” you repeat, albeit bitterly, “it’s not like that for him.”

the friend closest to you barks out a laugh, and you pin him with your meanest stare. it only makes him laugh harder. he’s wiping tears from his eyes when Touya comes back, filling the space between you. 

it hurts tremendously to know that this is temporary, and you feel ridiculous for feeling that way. it’s not like it comes as a surprise—you knew very well that Touya wasn’t one for romance or love. you thought you could live with that, especially with the sex being as good as it is—but it was just so easy to believe the opposite was true, because he really was good to you. if you allowed yourself to forget, it was nothing at all to pretend he was because he wanted this, too. 

still—like a magnet, you’re drawn to him. you hop down from your stool to stand beside his, and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“you hungry?,” he turns to murmur into your hair, “i’ll get you fries or somethin’.”

“wow, fries” you scoff, rolling your eyes, “how chivalrous.”

you feel him grin. “wasn’t raised in a barn.”

it’s a bad joke. it lodges itself in your skin and makes you ache for him. you try not to dwell on it. 

“you could’ve fooled me.”  

he rolls his eyes back at you with a little tch, but it’s lighthearted. he slings his arm around your neck and pulls you closer until you’re pressed into the warmth of his side, and presses a kiss to your temple. 

“you know, most men would give up their seats for pretty women.” you tease, leaning into his touch. 

“let me know if you see one, then.” 

“hey!”

he laughs, brushing his lips against your forehead again before leaning back, patting his thigh. 

“c’mon then, pretty lady.”

you feel warm as you climb up into his lap, and when you settle in, it’s like a key inside of a lock. you pointedly ignore the knowing glance from the man to your right, choosing instead to feel every inch that connects you to Touya. it feels like a reward, to mold to him this well—like something you’re owed after trimming off every one of his prickly little thorns for as long as you have. you want to tell him so, but you know he’d clam up or shove you off of him. you keep your feelings where they simmer under your skin and focus on the way his hand trails over the curve of your hip—back and forth, like he means to soothe, but his warmth feels like a brand. you close your eyes and imagine a reality in which he does it because he loves you.  

“you alright?”

it sounds odd, coming from him—like he’s not used to asking the question. you suppose he’s not—he’s never had anyone to check up on. he reaches to brush a strand of hair from your face, and his fingers linger over your brow bone.

you’d been quiet since you left the bar—you’d followed him back to his house with an uncharacteristically little amount of banter. you’d been pliant as he pulled you down on the bed with him—nearly boneless and without so much as a teasing bite on the way down. 

despite yourself, you feel your eyes start to burn. you let out a clipped curse, blinking rapidly and looking pointedly away from him—hoping he wouldn’t press you about it. 

he does. 

“hey, hey,” he says softly, reaching to grab your chin with warm, calloused fingers and turning you to face him, “what’s goin’ on?” 

his blatant concern makes it worse—drives the knife a little deeper into your side—because it’s so starkly different (and far more intimate) from the Touya you started with. it only serves as a reminder of your original suspicion having long been confirmed—that he cares for you because he’s good. not because he loves you. not because he feels this unbearable, aching need that you do. you know there’s no escaping him now—he’s seeded himself somewhere deep in your chest and taken root. when his thumb brushes down over the curve of your jaw, you know that there’s no stopping the words that are about to come out of your mouth. 

“i love you,” the tears crest and fall, and you ache when he brushes them away before they can slip down your temples, “i’m really sorry.”

you’re a little surprised when you see his eyebrows knit together slightly in an emotion that’s definitely not the overt and immediate dismay you thought it would be, but you close your eyes before you can see anything else—before you can watch him pull away from you, genuinely and for the last time. 

you go rigid when you feel his forehead knock into yours, gently and only for an instant. 

“s’that such a bad thing?”

your eyes snap open, and you think the sight might kill you—he’s open and giving you everything with a willingness that makes your breath stutter in your chest. he has his head propped up on his hand to look at you, and it’s almost enough to disarm you completely. 

“don’t be cruel if you’re going to leave,” you hear yourself plead, despite what you’re seeing. he only snorts. 

“and what makes you so sure i’ll do that?”

“i know that you don’t do this shit.”

he smiles at that—a little thing that stretches across his face slow. it amuses him to hear you swear. 

“you’re right,” he murmurs, reaching to brush his fingers over your jaw again. holding you there so gently that it aches. “i don’t. s’different now, though.” 

you blink at him through the sting in your eyes, more confused than anything. he lets out a slow sigh, but it’s not in frustration. 

“you’re stuck to me now,” he says with such a fondness that you feel the words stick themselves to your bones, “m’not going anywhere.”

“i’m not trapping you here, Touya—“

“you’re not,” he agrees, with more patience than he’s ever afforded you. something starts to click in your mind, but for some reason, you find yourself fighting it. 

“you don’t—you’re not—“

“hey,” he cuts you off with a flick to your forehead, “listen to what i’m tellin’ you.”

“it’s…hard. for me.” he says after thinking for a moment, eyebrows furrowed again like he’s trying to make up the words from scratch. “i‘m used to bein’ alone. never really thought about anybody else.”

you’re silent then, mostly stunned, because you don’t think he’s ever said so many words to you. not like this. 

“i’m outta my depth here, kid,” it’s nearly whispered and it feels sacred, like a confession between you. you’re suddenly very aware that he’s giving you something that he’s parting with for the first time in his life. “but i can’t think about ya anywhere but here now. makes me feel a little sick.” 

you reach for him then—tentative fingertips brushing over the rapid fluttering of his heart. he gathers them in his hand and holds you there. 

“i might not be any good at this. but i’d like to try.” 

his words hit your ears one at a time, like coins slotted into a carnival game—they reach your mind with a heavy clink and only when the last one drops in do you really hear him. he’s no casanova, but you understand the sentiment under his words as if he’d spoken it aloud. 

you close your eyes and draw in one more shuddering breath, and it knocks loose the last of your reservations. you turn on your side, facing him fully, meeting the blue of his eyes with a slow smile that makes them narrow at you in suspicion. 

“jeez. you didn’t have to go all soft on me.”

he scoffs, shaking his head. “glad to have you back, you fuckin’ brat.” 

you laugh and he chases the sound, leaning forward until your foreheads knock together again. this time, he stays put. 

“tell me again,” he murmurs, and your heart balloons inside your chest. 

“i love you.”

epilogue—1 year later

Touya trudges up the steps to your apartment after finishing up at your grandparents’. you’d think he’d agreed to remodel the whole house, with how often they call him over now. 

he had a hunch that he wasn’t really there just to make repairs, and he didn’t mind. he knew how much your family meant to you, and he’d be lying if he said they weren’t growing on him, too.

“you bring our girl over here to see us,” the old bat called after him as he walked out the door, “don’t let her work herself to death.”

he was quick to agree, because his concerns were similar—you’d gotten busy as the weather started to warm with the first hint of spring, and you did not appear to be particularly skilled at taking breaks or prioritizing yourself. predictable, but no less annoying. 

walking up the steps to the home you now share, he looks down at the squirming thing in his arms and lets out a sigh. 

it didn’t take much convincing for him to agree to move in. he got to see you everyday (which allowed him to ensure you were, at the very least, feeding yourself) and Buck was over the moon at living in a new space if that meant he could be with you all the time. he couldn’t find a reason to say no (and he really, really didn’t want to), so it was easy to say yes. the smile you gave him when he agreed is imprinted on his heart. 

“babe? you here?”

you call to him in response from the kitchen, not looking up at him when he walks in—you’re hunched over the counter in front of your laptop, going through orders while Buck lays at your feet. he makes no move to greet Touya—in fact, the only acknowledgement Buck spares him is a few thuds of his tail against the tile. Touya narrows his eyes at him. traitor.

“hi,” you murmur, turning your body like you’re going to look at him—except you don’t actually look away from the computer.

“hi,” he grins, not moving in to kiss you like he usually does. waiting for you to turn to him. 

“what did Mam need—oh.”

you’re finally looking at him—except you’re not really looking at him at all, because your eyes are focused on the shivering thing in his arms. 

you look at it, and to him, and then back to it. you’re quiet for a beat, clearly trying to process, and then the thing nearly jumps out of his arms when you throw your head back and laugh.

“what the hell is that—” you say through a wheeze, wiping your eyes on your sleeve,  “Touya—oh my god—where did you get that?”

you close the proximity between you—finally, he thinks—and he bends to kiss your temple when you take the chihuahua from his arms. instantly Buck is on his feet, sniffing the air but otherwise content just to look at the dog in your arms. Touya feels relief at the non-reaction—you really had taught his dog some manners. 

“the fuckin’ thing was rooting around in the trash,” he mutters, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “figured you’d be mad at me if i left ‘im there.”

you roll your eyes and he knows you know it’s a lie—he wouldn’t have been able to sleep if he’d left the dog there. 

“are we keeping him?” you ask absentmindedly, scratching his tiny head. it works to subdue him—the shaking stops (mostly) and he lets out a little huff before relaxing in your hold. it makes you smile, and Touya thinks he’d fill this whole fucking house with chihuahuas if it meant he could see it again. 

“do y’want to?”

you let out a stray chuckle, finally looking up at him. “i guess he’d fit, won’t he?”

he feels the grin stretch across his face. “i don’t know. it’d be a tight squeeze.”

you snort, reaching with your free hand to poke at his ribs. “you have to name him, you know.”

“fuck,” he groans dramatically, pulling another giggle from you, “fine. what about…” he trails off, wracking his brain and looking around the kitchen, praying for even a semblance of inspiration. he sees your half-eaten lunch on the counter, and he thinks about the moldy cold cut he’d had to wrestle out of the little shit’s surprising tight grip—

“lunch meat.”

“...i’m sorry?”

“his name is lunch meat.”

you laugh at that, and the sound reverberates off every cell in his body. 

“it’s a good thing we’re not having kids,” you say through a giggle, “they’d have the worst names.”

he grins at you and you just shake your head, cooing to the tiny dog in your arms. Touya peels himself from you, settling against the counter just to watch. the other surprise—the one he’d actually planned—involved a fancy dinner in the next town over, because it is your anniversary, after all—but right now it feels like he has nothing but time, and to do anything but stand here and feel every second with you would feel like a waste.

this fic belongs to me (@gardenofnoah). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.    

[weebsinstash]

*me, a poor peasant child holding up my plate.*

Please sire, may I have some more platonic yandere Lucifer and Charlie? 🥺

Of course, starving Victorian child! (Also you just said platonic but I wound up writing this as like, mostly family platonic yandere so idk if that's a distinct difference to you but, here ya go!)

-- I feel like these two would really kinda infantilize you, specifically when it comes to violence, drugs, alcohol, and sex. You know how Charlie is clearly an adult woman but it could not be anymore clear that she's still really sheltered and naive, almost like a kid would be? Like the skit she had Pentious and Angel do literally brought up like, no sex before marriage as a sign of being a good person... did her dad ACTUALLY raise her with vaguely traditional/religious values. That's the kinda thing they start enforcing on you. Oh, you're dressed so cute! where are you going? gasp! A bar??? But that's soooo .... risky!! You're young, and, you're just so nice, and... why don't you stay home and play board games with the Morningstars instead?

You're over here, "can I PLEASE smoke some fucking weed" and Lucifer would deadass with his full chest, "no, none of the Devil's lettuce for MY baby! Those other Sinners can run around with their crack and their whippets and their absinthe but MY CHILD is better than that"

-- platonic yandere Charlie and Lucifer passing the single brain cell they share back and forth, "Dad, they bought some new clothes and I thought it was gonna be for that outing we're taking later this week but they put it on and left the Hotel and went somewhere else!! Who else would they dress up for? Do you think they have a secret second family and they actually hate us? 🥺" "Charlie, do you have any idea how... totally possible that is, oh golly, we've gotta follow them and make amends so they come home!!" and you're just like.... having coffee with a new friend

You're at a cafe looking cute and Lucifer and Charlie are having a stakeout in the fucking bushes nearby or some shit, Lucifer grinding his teeth trying to guess who this piece of shit trying to take his baby away is, growling how hes gonna rip them apart, like who the actual fuck does this person think they are, and Charlie is like, trying to be a little more level headed "haha cmon Dad they would never replace us :)" but then the second she looks over and sees this other person is exchanging too many meaningful glances at you and making you laugh, her switch flips. "Actually yeah Dad you know what you were totally right, they're obviously a creep trying to hurt Readsr and we should kill this guy :)"

--Charlie has no problem with you hanging out with Alastor but I like the idea that she can suddenly see right through him when it's YOU he's doing stuff to. He can be on his whole "oh just call me dad" shit to her and it'd give her the warm fuzzies, but the second she sees Alastor going out of his way to come up and interact with you in front of her father, she knows he's trying to rile her dad up and may even tell him he needs to wait his turn and interact with you later. Lucifer meanwhile all but wants to bite the cannibal like a rabid dog for coming near you and treats him like Al's the evil villain trying to take away his little royal heir. He has no idea what that yellow toothed black gum cretin wants to do to his baby!

-- I can just see arguing with Lucifer, "why can't I date? Charlie gets to date!!" and Lucifer's just like trying to bullshit an excuse for why he just doesn't want you dating because, you're his widdle baby and he isn't ready to see you act adult yet :( the only man you should be kissing is your short father on the cheek! Lucifer is VERY MUCH "I am the only supportive guardian figure you need in your life" kinda yandere dad, if you go to anyone else for help before him he's taking it as a personal slight against him and vows to show up that other person so you never "choose them over him" ever again

-- obviously I'm so fucking biased but. Lucifer with Daughter Reader is obviously just him being your tiny guard dog all the time like, he is so soft, he is such a girl dad. No men talking to either of his baby girls!! No touching his little princesses!!! You'll be out in fucking public as a grown ass woman and Lucifer would still be like, "oh, there's a lot of people here, here sweetie, hold my hand so you don't get lost", marching around holding your hand as the most powerful Anti Rizz Shield in all of Hell, he has no shame, this man is fucking Mayes Hughes whipping out his wallet, "wanna see photos of my girls?!?!?!? Here's one of them in matching dresses, here's one from the musical we went to last week, and here- gosh arent they just the cutest ☺️❤️"

like if you ever wander into another ring like Gluttony by accident, Bee is buzzing up to you, "oh my gosh, it's Luci's little pup, sweetie you're not supposed to be down here, let me get you back upstairs, your pops is FREAKING!!" and talking to you like she already knows you like a friend because Lucifer is showing your photos to ALL his demon friends at every like, Rulers of Hell meeting. Lucifer is over here beaming with pride as Stolas looks over his special I Love My Daughters Photo Album and nodding his head, "perhaps we can arrange some playtime with your girls and my Via, let them all get to know each other" and it's like Lucifer can you PLEASE stop recruiting other all powerful almighty demons into the Let's All Be Platonic In A Creepy Overprotective Way Club. You just turn around one day and like half the Overlords and a few of the Cardinal Sins are all vying for your attention and you're like a celebrity and it's cause your dumb duck dad is blabbing his mouth showing your picture to anyone with eyes

-- you know how Sinner Demons come in all these different sizes and shapes, with fur and wings and, bugs and dinosaurs, fish and object heads? What if Lucifer has the power to alter your demonic form? One day you turn around and you're no longer whatever multi armed fuzzy creature you once were, but you're now... human again. Or at least, human like. You've got your old face again, your old skin tone, but, you've got horns that look suspiciously like your friend and her father's, a retractable tail with a heart on it like theirs, maybe even those like, kinda weird rosy cheek things. And it's because Lucifer and Charlie have decided, well, they don't care what you look like regardless, but now, don't you actually look like a member of the family? Now everyone can tell when you're together! ^^

Like it's kinda sweet but the adjacent horror of Lucifer "oh yeah I completely changed the shape and appearance of your body to more resemble me and my daughter so you look like you're ACTUALLY our family :)" like can you imagine him pulling this kind of shit when you're like not even that kind of close yet. Basically kidnapping you into the Morningstar family tree and actually making you look like them to the point other people can spot you and instantly know to steer clear. Maybe you even get a little special outfit of your own,your own little suit and bow tie with an apple or snake on it somewhere

-- you know how sometimes you just want to be alone? You just like space? You just like not knowing you're being watched or having to share your space with anyone else, you can just breathe? It's not about hating someone else or other people, it's just like... wanting to be the master of your own space for a while?

Foreign fucking concept to these two. Your activities become THEIR activities. Oh cool you're 6 episodes deep into an anime? Here's Charlie and Lucifer, "oooo what are we watching?" "Oh she's really pretty, what's her name, is she the main character?" "That lady sure isn't wearing a lot of clothes, I don't know if this is appropriate for you to watch" "oooo oooo pause it, I'll go make popcorn, dont start it again without me!"

Don't get me wrong I can see this being adorable, you're just like adhd autism infodumping and catching them all upon who everyone is and all the stuff that's happened and "I can restart it from the beginning and we can watch it together?" And they're eagerly hanging off of your every word based on how interested and excited you are about the subject, for whatever hobby or show you're indulging in

BUT I can see this turning into them intruding on everything you do and when you finally do try and say "hey I'd like a little space" that turns into a DISCUSSION. wait why don't you want to spend time with them? Are you sad? Did they do something wrong? Tell them exactly what you're thinking, OBVIOUSLY the correct action ISNT to just give you the space, CLEARLY this is an emergency needing investigation!! Like God forbid you tell them a lie to sneak off and hang out with someone else because THEN it's "who is this clearly abusive evil person telling our precious Reader to lie to us? The altar calls for their blood"

--SINGING!!! These two sing all the time (Charlie sings the most as the Not Depressed Morningstar) and they teach you too! They'll encourage you to join into song, and even just do those little songs you and I do when we're doing small tasks. You'll catch them in the kitchen, "washing the dishes, washing the plates, put them away and have a wonderful day ^^" and they'll try and rope you into singing until eventually you're expected to belt out musical numbers with them like anyone else in this show (bonus points for your first musical song being some sort of rebellious rock ballad about wanting to run away from them because they make you feel controlled or something)

-- mandatory family trips to Lu Lu World! You are NOT going home until you play all sorts of games and eat all sorts of carnival food and are struggling to walk home carrying your giant stuffed duck. God, really missing my childhood going to Six Flags before capitalism ruined amusement parks...

-- "cringe" does not exist in this family and they wont make you feel bad for liking something unless it's like ACTUALLY HARMFUL (like getting drunk and high). You cannot tell me these two do not already have fursonas and they'll geek out on the couch watching cartoons and playing video games with you. You're eating candy watching Naruto and playing LEGO Batman and playing dice games and they're loving every second (Reader why did you have to hit that Nat 20 roll on the "Getting Adopted By The Morningstars" quest, now they're never leaving you alone bro, bro i think youre gonna have to murderhobo your way outta this bro--)

-- I feeeeeeeeeel like. Lucifer if he concentrates really really hard would be able to tell where you are at all times because, Hell is HIS house. He um. He literally has pocket dimension "make shit appear out of nowhere" powers, so like... do you think he can feel all the souls in Hell? Do you think he would be able to concentrate and be like, "oh I can tell Reader is in that direction and is feeling really happy right now"

I just... I picture Reader having a really awful fight where you yell and scream at Lucifer and you can tell you actually really hurt his feelings, maybe even making him tear up, which would then make Charlie really upset with you, and then you're running off because you feel like you can't stay there anymore, and you're wandering the streets, lost, hungry, starting to get cold, wishing you could go back and apologize but feeling like they would never take you back, and, of course, the age old trope, you get cornered by some robbers or some potential attackers and they start beating you around and, all you can think is how ungrateful you were, that you wanted to apologize to Charlie and Lucifer but they probably hated you now, it's too late, it's... it's...

You don't know if it'll work, but you're about to be hurt really badly and you're genuinely scared and missing them and, you just clasp your hands and say a prayer, calling out to Lucifer, but you're like... literally saying it like... you're manically whispering and whimpering not knowing what the fuck you're supposed to say or if something like this would even work, "O Dark Lord Lucifer please hear my plea for your aid and-- no fuck it, come help me DAD I'm really really SCARED DAD THEYRE GONNA HURT ME COME ON DAD PLEASE DAD I'M SORRY, WHAT I SAID WAS WRONG, DAD PLEASE-" and he's there like, before you're even done speaking. You're still covering your head and whimpering and crying and you just hear, "It's OK now" and he's standing over you with bloodied fists and the attackers all crumpled on the ground and he's picking you up like it's nothing to take you back home.

-- lastly, I feel like there's few boundaries on nudity with these two. Like, it's not incestuous or anything, but if Lucifer walks in on you changing and you've got your beav out, he would probably politely put a hand over his eyes and keep talking anyways. Charlie treats it like walking in on her sibling, on someone her age she's known all her life. She'll be walking up, picking lint off your clothes, helping clasp your bra, whichever whatever without any regards for how exposed you might be feeling. Oh you're feeling shy? But she's your sister; you don't have to be shy!!

It's all fun and games until you're completely butt ass naked having Family Bath Time, Charlie scrubbing shampoo through your hair while Lucifer has ungodly amounts of duck themed bath toys floating around and you accidentally catch sight of THE Angel Of The Bottomless Pit's full-on dick and balls that you're realizing, oh, when they said they want to treat you like family, they meant like FAMILY family... oh shit... hope this doesn't turn into a huge "hey also we couldnt bear the thought of losing you so you're kind of immortal now" kind of problem...

[enmi-land]

#OO2. DOWN WITH THE DEMOCRACY !

𝓘. ──── . . . 𝑀𝗂𝗅𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗏𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗒𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗌.

🥚 𝓲-LAND EPiSODE 2 𓈀 4.8k ꗃ ❛ KOR, ENG, JP, CHi ❜ ✖ NO WARNiNGS! `⎚⩊⎚´ NEXT::PREV

shall we go 𝓲NTO THE NEW WORLD ?

Mila’s first impression of I-Land is that it has a pretty unique concept—and by that, she means it’s pretty frigging weird.

The place itself is actually quite impressive as it reminds her a lot of those mansions in Kdramas where the main male leads typically live, so that’s five stars for accommodation. But she has to take away two-and-a-half stars because the elevator lift in the lobby is a literal egg.

It seems like a pretty random choice of decor at first, and could easily be brushed off as a nouveau riche’s poor attempt at avant-gardism. But Mila makes a very detailed analysis of it, like the certified Overthinker that she is, and starts to see a morbid symbolism in the creative direction of the entire show.

The whole theme of I-Land centres around the egg—and what do people do to eggs?

They break them.

Mila doesn’t want to be an egg! Even thinking about possibly becoming the next Humpty Dumpty—who, mind you, couldn’t be put back together again—would make her arm hairs stand on attention if she had any. (The strongly recommended ‘Idol Package’ at the BigHit-endorsed beauty salon robbed her of any and all body hair.) She does get a whole lot of goosebumps—but those are more so because someone just said that there’s a graveyard a few kilometres away from here.

Shiitake mushrooms.

“Stop thinking so hard and eat.” Kiara’s voice brings Mila back to Earth.

The older female is currently piling her plate with food from the platters that were laid out in a totally non-suspicious manner on the island bench when the I-Land trainees first walked into the kitchen. Mila looks down at her own hands and finds herself holding a plate that she doesn’t even remember grabbing. Weird. But she doesn’t think much about it—mainly because she’s too hungry to—and chomps on a chicken strip as she looks around her.

The other trainees are chowing down like this is a schoolyard potluck, and that would be a pretty wholesome sight aside from a few things: Firstly, most of them are teenage boys who don’t know how to use utensils. Secondly, four of the currently nineteen trainees in the room will be evicted from I-Land in a few hours.

Mila doesn’t really know who thought it was a good idea to let the trainees vote for who gets eliminated, when most of them aren’t even old enough to vote in the presidential elections and this decision seems just as life-changing. But whoever it was, they must not know teenagers that well. Most of the people here are more likely to vote for people they don’t really like, rather than people who don’t have skills.

That’s probably why Seon keeps hovering so much—but hey, no one heard it from Mila.

Mila has nothing against Seon. Everyone is doing what they must in order to survive; she can’t fault him for wanting to get on people’s good sides. The thing is, he has a pretty obvious bias towards Kiara—which is fair, considering she’s one of the strongest in this competition so far, but it forces Mila to awkwardly third-wheel in what was once her conversation with her friend. It gets to the point where Mila decides to just let the adults talk, and wanders around the place aimlessly like a child waiting for her mother to finish gossiping with their neighbours.

And just like a child, she manages to get lost.

Oop—

“Mila-noona!”

The sound of her name being called from behind her and approaching footsteps is the only warning Mila gets before she is attacked by the sight of Yang Jungwon’s lethally cute dimples.

“Ah, you scared me!” she says before she can really think, only to then beam in excitement when the initial shock fades. “Oh—Jungwonie! It’s good to see you!”

Jungwon smiles, fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. She notices that he always does it when talking to her—a nervous tick, perhaps? How adorable.

Mila gives two thumbs up. “You did a really good job today with your performance!”

“Thank you,” he replies, “Noona also did a good job.”

Mila giggles bashfully. “Thanks! Anyway, I’m glad I ran into you. We didn’t get to talk much earlier— Ah, but are you heading anywhere in particular?”

Jungwon shakes his head, his fluffy hair following his movement. “I was just walking around. What about you?”

“Same here.” Mila scratches the back of her earlobe bashfully and tilts her head. Her eyes avoid Jungwon’s and land on a random spot on the wall next to her out of embarrassment of her admission: “But then I got lost.”

Jungwon blinks and Mila laughs awkwardly. They don’t get to say anything because they’re interrupted by the sound of voices down the hall which get increasingly rowdy. Mila easily recognises it as the sound of teenage boys egging each other on. It seems like something is going down…

Hm, curiouser and curiouser.

“Some of the Hyungs said they wanted to check out the gym,” Jungwon explains. “That must be them.”

“Oh, really? Did Jay-oppa and Sunghoonie-oppa say they would be there, too?” Mila asks. When Jungwon confirms her assumption (it makes sense that those two would be in the gym), she makes up her mind. “Ah, in that case, I’ll go find one of them to bother. Thanks, Jungwonie! I’ll let you go now.”

She’d hate to pester Jungwon when he’s her dongsaeng—and not a particularly close one, at that. Every time they’ve come across each other, she seems to always be the one chatting his ear off, so she thought he might be glad to see her go. That must not be the case, though, since Jungwon frowns and volunteers to escort Mila to the gym himself.

Mila is surprised, to say the least—but in a good way. It’s a relief he doesn’t secretly hate her guts or something.

The two walk in a comfortable silence that’s eventually broken as they arrive at the gym. Mila isn’t surprised to see Jay and Sunghoon participating in some sort of fitness competition with the other male trainees, however she now feels a bit nervous because she realises she doesn’t know any of them. She may be a social butterfly, but that’s only in settings where everyone is equally as unacquainted as she is, or when she isn’t the only owner of a double-X chromosome in the room. Thankfully, she isn’t alone and Jungwon is right next to her—

Nevermind, he’s walking away…

Mila contemplates leaving and just trying her luck with her nonexistent sense of direction, when Jungwon looks over his shoulder and blinks in confusion after realising she’s not following him. “Noona, aren’t you coming?”

Even though Mila knows that he isn’t trying to put her on the spot, he still kinda does. Everyone in the room hears his voice, so they all turn to face Jungwon and greet him—which causes them to notice her at the door. There is a brief silence where they all just stare at her like she’s the cow that jumped over the moon. But then Jay—thank goodness—pokes his head out from the centre of the boy’s club gathering and locks eyes with her.

Mila blurts out a relieved, “Oppa!”

“Mimi-yah?” She’s never been so glad to hear that nickname before. “Did you come to take a look at the gym?”

Jay walks over to her and she immediately feels better now that she has someone to hide behind. She can still feel some of the looks from the other trainees, so she shuffles closer to Jay. Mila briefly catches sight of Sunghoon in the background, putting a pair of dumbbells down, before she focuses back on Jay’s face.

“Not really—I was just looking for you and Sunghoonie-oppa,” Mila responds to his earlier question. 

“What for?” Sunghoon asks, appearing behind Jay. He stands shoulder to shoulder with his partner, and while it might seem intimidating to anyone else, she’s honestly comforted having them both so close. Not that she’ll admit that—least of all to Sunghoon. “I thought you said you wanted to meet new people.”

Sheesh. Is that pettiness Mila hears? 

…He’s not wrong, though.

Mila pouts. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I just wanted to see what you were up to—I was going to leave, anyway.”

And then she does her best impression of a puppy being left out in the rain—wide eyes, quivering bottom lip, and all—before turning on her heels to leave. Or tries to, anyway.

There’s a slight tug on her ponytail that has her stopping in her tracks. She turns to face Sunghoon with questioning eyes. He has a little smirk on his face, looking way too pleased with himself—like a cat that caught the cream. He totally has her figured out.

“Where are you going? You’ll just get lost.”

Again, he’s not wrong.

“Come on,” Jay says with a smile, before Mila can retort to Sunghoon’s taunt and they start bickering like they always do when they’re around each other. He places a gentle palm on her head. “We’ll introduce you to the others.”

The figurative rain clouds clear from above Mila’s head and she happily latches onto his free arm, earning a chuckle. Sunghoon, not one to be left out, snatches her other wrist and tugs it towards him. She lets him, savouring the warmth of his larger hand as it circles around her smaller one. (She does, however, make a show of keeping her hand in a fist she can’t hold his hand in return—not that he particularly cares.)

It's funny to think about how comfortable she is around them now, compared to when they first met two years ago. At that time, she had always been just a bit more hesitant to get to know the two of them, simply because she was intimidated. But they are softies underneath their tough guy exteriors—a pair of human teddy bears, really. It just took Sunghoon winning a penguin plushie for her at an arcade and Jay walking her to school one day for her to see that.

When they turn to face the other trainees, they all put on their best show of pretending they weren’t peeking at the three of them like curious housewives just moments ago. Jungwon looks the most curious of all of them, though Mila spots some concern—probably because of how she retreated into her shell like a hermit crab not long ago—which makes her want to ‘awww’. But he looks assured enough when she shoots him a genuine smile.

With Jay and Sunghoon acting as her moral support, Mila feels a lot more at ease and introduces herself confidently. The other trainees do the same and the small talk starts from there. It’s obvious that they’re being courteous of her since she’s the only girl in the room right now, as they aren't nearly as rowdy as they were when Mila heard them from down the hall earlier—but honestly, it’s kinda sweet. They’re all kinda sweet, actually.

It doesn’t even take her five minutes to warm up to them, and she finds herself demonstrating a pistol squat to officially inaugurate herself into their group of gym junkees. (It’s a good ego boost when she realises that most of them can’t actually do a pistol squat.)

Mila barely notices the two-hour waiting period pass her by. There’s only five minutes left when Mila finds her way back to Kiara. This time, the older female is with Heeseung and the Crown unit consisting of Hwayoung, Sunoo and Jaeyun. She doesn’t know how to feel about that, though, since Jaeyun hasn’t managed to get any less attractive in the past few hours. And, yeah, that’s a problem.

How long did it take her before she got used to Sunghoon’s visuals again? Ah, right…

She’s so screwed.

“Oppa!” Mila calls as she takes a seat next to Heeseung. “I was looking for you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

She spent around half an hour in the gym with Sunghoon and Jay before she decided to embark on a journey of Finding Heeseung™, only to find everyone except for him. No, really. She managed to bump into literally every other trainee in the place before she finally saw him—and only because she was looking for Kiara, who happened to be with him.

Well, at least she knows her way around I-Land pretty well now.

“Ah, really? Sorry.” Heeseung softly strokes her hair—it’s basically a reflex for him by now—and she relaxes in her chair. “Did you need me for something?”

Mila shakes her head, before resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Not really. I just didn’t get to talk to you earlier…”

(She pointedly makes sure she doesn’t say, ‘I missed you,’ because contrary to popular opinion, she isn’t clingy, thank you very much.)

Heeseung smiles at this and his eyes do that thing that they do, where they look like honey is dripping from them. Before she can say anything, he playfully pinches her cheek. “Cute.”

The Crown unit across from Mila looks a little taken aback by the causal display of affection—which is fair enough. She was the same way at first, too.

When Heeseung first did it, Mila thought that he was possessed by the spirit of someone’s late aunt and almost doused him with a salt shower. But after two years of knowing him, she’s gotten used to the cheek pinches, head pats and his altogether treatment of her like she’s a particularly cute and small animal that he wants to put in his pocket and carry everywhere with him—even if she’s not particularly cute or small. 

Mila just learnt to accept Heeseung’s doting. It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that she’s a lonely, touch-starved only child with parental issues, and soaks up all forms of affection that she receives like a desperate sponge. No siree.

Kiara passes Mila a pillow, which she takes gratefully. She rests her chin on it, her cheek still on Heeseung's shoulder, while her eyes start gazing into the distance. She can smell Heeseung’s cologne really well from here—which isn’t at all a weird thing to say about her guy friend—and it feels oddly comforting. (And, again, not weird at all.)

Sunoo suddenly taps Mila’s foot with his own. “You shouldn’t fall asleep,” he teases with a smile, causing her to giggle.

“Not like I could if I wanted to,” she replies. “I’m still not sure about what I’ll do with the vote.”

“Ah, don’t remind me!” Jaeyun aggressively runs a hand through his hair, and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m nervous!”

“Don’t be, you guys did good,” Heeseung assures kindly.

“Right.” Kiara takes a seat on one of the beds, as the seats are currently occupied by the Mila, Heeseung and the Crown unit. “For people that didn’t have much training or even know each other for long, your performance and chemistry as a group was really solid.”

Sunoo covers his mouth with his hands, eyes crinkling with delight. “Really?” 

Mila nodded vigorously. “Even if anyone votes you out, it will be because they’re threatened by you, or just don’t want to vote out their friends. You all deserve a spot in I-Land as much as anyone else in here!”

Jaeyun tilts his head and looks at Mila like he’s in thought. She ignores him in favour of Hwayoung, who musters a smile, visibly less shaken than before. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Sunoo puckers his lips and nods. “I guess I won’t feel too bad then if I get voted out.”

Mila doesn’t get the chance to say anything in return. The alarms blare, much like they did for the Entrance Test, and the announcement is made for Niki—who Mila remembers from the SuperM unit—to enter the voting room. Alone.

Well, then…

If the anxiety of the elimination itself wasn’t already stifling enough, the anticipation of waiting for their turn to vote is enough to figuratively choke someone out. By the time it’s Mila’s turn, she can’t even bring herself to have both her eyes open as she presses the screen. Someone would think she murdered someone when she finally walks out of the voting room with a face that screams ‘Guilty, your honour!’ and Kiara even jokingly asks whether she left any evidence behind.

Mila considers making the older girl carry her to the lobby—where the trainees must gather for the announcement of eliminees—since Kiara is so Unbothered by the whole thing. But then Mila remembers that she’s too tall to be carried by her significantly shorter unnie (“You’re only five centimetres taller, you brat!”), and unfortunately has to drag herself there.

Mila finds a random place to sit herself down and resists the urge to cover her eyes and ears like she’s watching a horror movie and awaiting a jumpscare. She’s not sure whether or not she will be the one to leave, or one of her friends; she just hopes it’s neither.

She jinxes it.

The first eliminee is announced. It’s Kim Sunoo.

Mila hasn’t known him for long, but she feels slighted on his behalf. He definitely doesn’t deserve to leave—and not as the trainee with the most votes against him. She already knew that some bias would be present in the voting, but it doesn’t alleviate the disappointment she feels to see him go. Mila actually brings Sunoo into a hug when she says her goodbyes, which is something she doesn’t do much with people she just met—men especially—yet feels oddly comfortable initiating with the boy. He seems to appreciate it, too, and even rubs her back a bit in a comforting manner.

As if Mila is the one who needs it right now.

“Come back again, okay?” Mila says as they separate. “You’re my only 03-liner friend, remember? I’ll be lonely without you.”

“Ay, you’ll probably meet more here anyway.” Sunoo laughs when she protests with the fact that he’s her first, which holds significant importance. And Mila is just grateful that he can be so bright in a situation like this. “Okay. I’ll make sure to come back just for you.”

Mila can’t help but smile. (Her cheeks feel a little warmer, too, but that’s not the point.) He’s awfully bold to be saying stuff like that to a girl he met not long ago, although she supposes she’s no better in the department of shamelessness.

She steps aside to let the Crown unit walk him to The Egg while she says her well-wishes to Taki, EJ, and Sunghchul. Then they’re on their way.

Ground, huh? Mila hopes it treats them well.

As for her, she’s left in the I-Land lobby with the remaining fifteen trainees, who celebrate their newly gained status as the top dogs in this food chain. But then the events of the day eventually catch up to them and night time doesn’t come soon enough.

Mila unfortunately can’t sleep well in unfamiliar environments (when she first moved to Seoul, it took her a few months to adjust to the BigHit dorms) and ends up tossing and turning until she decides to stumble around in the dark to sneak into Kiara’s bed. Not her idea of a good night's sleep. It doesn’t help when the reason she wakes up the next morning is the buzz of activity that comes from the other rooms down the hall because of everyone who is already up and about.

Mila is hoping this won’t be a regular thing, but knowing her luck, it probably will. And that’s crazy to her—because who on earth wakes up this early in the morning anyway?

Oh— Wait. Is that the time?

Nevermind then, Mila just woke up really late.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” Yumeko—one of the four only female trainees in I-Land—greets as she walks into their shared room. (The girls ended up together since everyone agreed it would be too awkward to share rooms with the opposite sex so early on—which kinda implies it will happen eventually, but that’s a future problem.) “How did you sleep?”

Mila hums, rubbing her eyes. “Not long enough.”

Yumeko laughs.

Mila knew of the older girl (a 00-liner, making her the eldest female in the competition) because, aside from being a fellow BigHit trainee, she also happened to always be the top of the girls’ rankings in dance—a title that Mila always missed out on by one rank in the past. She just never got to meet her properly until yesterday.

Mila wants to consider the Japanese female a rival, but she’s never been particularly competitive (it’s a wonder she did competitive cheerleading, or that she’s even on this show at all) and it’s not really her style. Besides, Yumeko is just that good; Mila knows she probably won’t stand any chance, anyway. Her cover of NCT U’s Cherry Bomb during the Entrance Test yesterday blew any delusions of stealing that number one rank from her out of the water.

“Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, then,” Yumeko teases. She throws on a hoodie over the tank top she is wearing and Mila can’t help but notice she’s really toned. Damn. “The bathroom should be free if you want to wash your face and brush your teeth.”

Mila nods, feeling as gross she must seem, and also throws a hoodie over her head. She slept with a bra last night because she remembered the cameras in all the bedrooms (which would be pretty weird in any other setting—not that it isn’t still weird, anyway), so she isn’t worried about accidentally flashing anyone. But her hair is probably a bird’s nest right now, so the hood is there to cover her head as she pads towards the bathroom.

Yumeko is right about it being free, thankfully, so she doesn’t worry about taking her time to fix her appearance. She is just leaving when Geonu walks in, and she immediately beams. “Good morning!”

Geonu jolts in surprise. It’s kinda understandable, since Mila did just appear like a wild Pokémon jumping out of a bush. To his credit, though, he doesn’t scream or anything embarrassing like that and returns her greeting rather calmly. “Did you sleep well?”

Mila makes a seesaw motion with her hand. “So-so. I’m not really a morning person, though. And Oppa?”

“Same here,” he replies. “But you’re really energetic for someone who isn’t a morning person.”

Mila tilts her head and scrunches her nose. “Really? I guess that’s just how I am…”

Geonu, for some reason, laughs. It lacks any mockery in it, but has something there that makes Mila wonder if she said something funny. “Has anyone told you that you remind them of a bunny?”

Mila blinks. Because yes, actually, people do. “How did you know?”

Geonu shakes his head with an amused huff. “Just a feeling.”

Mila doesn’t really know what to say to that, so she shrugs instead. Oh well—as long as it’s nothing bad. “Well, I’ll let you wash up in peace. See you around!”

Geonu hums and bids her farewell.

Mila skips towards the kitchen, feeling much better now that she doesn’t look like she came off the set of Train to Busan. She’s in the middle of pouring herself a bowl of cereal when those alarms from hell start blaring and she flinches so strongly that cereal ends up flying out of the box in her hand and onto the floor.

Krabby patties.

Mila curses, bending down behind the counter to pick some of the flakes off the floor. Then a group of trainees bulldoze through the kitchen like a mob of fangirls when they spot their idols, and she decides that she’s not moving fast enough. She unlocks her inner janitor and sweeps up the remaining cereal—or as much as she can, anyway—and tosses them in the bin in record time.

She decides to wisely uses the ten minutes she’s given until she needs to be at the lobby to shovel as many spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth (she doesn’t know what she’s in for or how it will take, so stocking up energy is a priority) and take a quick toilet break. Then she’s going full Naruto ninja-speed and zooms towards the lobby, completely forgetting that she’s wearing slippers—a huge mistake, really, since she stubs her toe on a step. Ouch. But at least she isn’t late for the announcement of the show’s next stage.

The Signal Song Test begins in earnest with the reveal of the show’s theme song, Into the I-Land. Once again, it’s up to the trainees to make the big decisions—including who gets which part.

Well, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if the number of lines were equal for all parts. But it looks like the producers of the show are aiming to make this whole survival show experience as accurate to the life of a real idol as possible, as there’s a huge disproportionality in the line distribution.

Mila doesn’t have any ambitions of getting the first part, so she naturally agrees with Sunghoon to throw Heeseung’s hat in the ring for it instead. As for the rest of the parts, they will be allocated by—surprise, surprise—a vote.

Mila does some mental gymnastics to come up with a strategy to bag the part she wants, and finally settles with the tried and true approach of Just Do It™. It seems to work pretty well, actually. She manages to get a part that appears in the centre twice, so she has some decent ‘look at me!’ time compared to the other parts.

The same can’t be said for others.

Jay has been rejected for every part so far, and seems like he’s ready to give up, but raises his hand again for the next part—and the part after that, and the part after that…

There’s now only one part left that has more than one line, and Mila knows if he doesn’t get it, it might do some serious damage to his confidence. It’s already taking a toll on him, as he has his head lowered so the bill of his cap covers his expression from her place across from him. And honestly, it hurts her heart to see it.

Jay has always been the epitome of tenacity, and he’s proven it already with his ability to keep raising his hand. Mila would have given up after the second rejection—maybe even the first. She just wishes she could do something to lift his spirits a little, even if it’s just enough so he can raise his head.

Mila ponders it for a moment, before she feels a lightbulb switch on inside her head. She raises her hand just as Heeseung prepares to move onto the auditions for the next part. “Oppa, I have a question!”

“Hm?” Heeseung immediately looks up from his tablet at the sound of her voice. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking…” Heeseung nods encouragingly at Mila. “Even if we give out the parts now, it's only based on vocals. What do we do if we get to dance practice and realise that someone can’t keep up with the choreography for their part?”

There are some nods from the other trainees, so Mila knows she’s not being completely outlandish.

“You’re right,” Heeseung agrees. “That’s why should consider every skill when we’re voting—dance and vocals are equally important. It’s better to vote for someone who you think can do both well.”

Mila nods sagely, pretending to think deeply about Heeseung’s words. “Ah, okay… So, if there's two people and they’re both pretty equal in vocals, but one happens to be much better at dancing, we should vote for that person?”

“Right.”

Mila smiles, satisfied with the answer and it’s intended result, as she notices Jay’s shoulders straighten a bit. “Okay, I get it now! Thanks.”

Everyone knows Jay is one of the best dancers in I-Land at this point, and Mila is more than confident that he’ll be able to sing the next part fairly well. There’s no reason for him not to have the part. It’s just that Mila gave everyone a little bit of a nudge in his direction by reminding them to keep an open mind.

It works like a charm.

“Okay,” Heeseung says after counting the votes, “this part is Jay’s.”

If Mila cheers a little too loudly at the announcement, that’s her business alone. But also, not really. From the smile that Jay sends her before mouthing, “Thank you,” she knows that he figured out her little trick. She can’t seem to feel guilty about it though—well, not right now at least.

But of course, in a survival show like I-Land, nothing good ever lasts forever.

taglist⠀( OPEN ! ) ⦂ @em1ejiee @menichoi @dracoslovergirl @rosas-in-the-garden @blossominghunnie @lovelypham @cornenhapovs @nee-issaire @jwnstars @tommina @queenriki7

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[violetasteracademic]

I mean, I love Lucien so much but it’s obvious that he’s not that excited about the mating bond. It feels like it was something that was imposed on him, not something that makes him happy (as it was the case for Rhys and Cassian). He even used the world “shackled”. What can be worse than that? After a while, he didn’t even care about living someplace else and not seeing her often. He knows they’re a bad match and it’s possibly questioning the Cauldron.

I love both of them and they deserve better. Sometimes I wonder if the people that believe that Elain has to be with Lucien because he’s her mate, also believe that women should stay in unhappy, miserable marriages because they see divorce as a “sin”

Hello lovely anon!

Looooong post ahead, we are gonna get into it! I agree with you completely on this. I am a pro L/cien Elriel, and always have been. My first Tumblr post was a dissertation about Vassien for goodness sake, and my excitement for their story is genuinely second to Elriel! The secret Spell-Cleaver's son and the cursed queen, the bird of flame and lord of fire, there is so much I love about them. I did an entire breakdown on the possibilities of Vassien's story using Sarah's usual book structures and all of the information we have on them, because there is so much driving them plot wise and thematically it's actually crazy.

I think that sometimes it can be really easy to miss theme while reading these books, but it is something SJM puts a lot of work into and threads throughout her stories.

I spend a LOT of time talking about my girl Elain, and even though I love the boys they are just kinda there for me as cute little accessories for our ladies. So I appreciate this opportunity to talk more about who is right for whom from the mens perspective based on the themes woven throughout the books with a focus on L/ucien and Azriel, and whether or not Elain fits into those themes. In my opinion, these are the strongest indicators of what ultimately is being subliminally pushed by authors on the road to happiness for our characters.

I'm gonna nerd out about writing for a sec, but good writing has clean character arcs. Good romance shows the blind spots or flaws of the lead characters, and how their romantic interest will balance or push the character to growth. If there are multiple love interests, one of the love interests will undoubtedly leave the main character stagnant, or perhaps fulfill some external ideals rather than following their own heart.

Here are some examples of themes when it comes to Elain and Azriel, and I'm pushing myself to focus on Azriel here and not my girlie 🌸

Here we are being introduced to the areas where Azriel has blind spots to his own personal happiness. It is nearly impossible to get Azriel to take any time for himself that doesn't't involve work or training. He rips himself to shreds for mistakes, his perfectionism bordering on sadistic.

The time he spends with Elain is a direct foil to Azriel's inability to do anything other than work or train without being pushed to the extreme by his loved ones. He chooses to sit with Elain in the garden. He chooses to stay up until three am listening to her design plans. He chooses to rest in the sunlight with her. This is a direct tie of the author stating what this character needs, and then blatantly showing who is giving it to him.

G/wyn also trains hard and is competitive and perfectionistic. It makes total sense to me that people think this is cute, however, theme wise, it is a representation of a stagnant arc. The idea that training is a foundational element to an Az and G's potential relationship actually directly parallels Azriel's greatest obstacle to happiness- which is that he cannot allow himself to rest and *not* train.

Feyre and Rhys had to teach each other to share burdens, though it was extremely difficult. Cassian had to teach Nesta how to forgive herself and believe she was worthy of love. What Azriel needs is someone to help him believe he is worthy of rest and mistakes. These themes are tied to Elain.

There is also the issue of his hands and physical touch, and his feelings of worthiness.

Again, we discover that even if Morrigan, the woman he has supposedly been madly in love with for 500 years, stripped naked in front of Azriel, he still wouldn't touch her. We've also seen Morrigan cringe away from his hands. Meanwhile, Elain called his scarred hands beautiful. Elain initiated every act of touch in the bonus chapter. Elain moved so that his hand was covering her neck, and she wanted it.

Azriel fought against his feelings of disgust over his hands. He experienced intrusive thoughts about how he shouldn't be touching her with the things he has done. And yet, his feelings for her, and the feeling of touching her, was powerful enough to override the loop of self hate that tells him he is unworthy of being wanted.

So if Azriel's two themes that need to be challenged in his romantic relationship is lack of rest and lack of touch, Elain has already been pushing growth in those areas over multiple books. With G/wyn, whom he has not touched because of the strict line of professionalism with the priestesses and the only time they spent together training (which is also the thing Azriel uses to distract himself and push himself to the brink of exhaustion) thematically, for Azriel's specific needs in romantic growth, we are stagnant.

Moving on to L/cien, because there is a lot here for him as well and I believe we are being shown how Elain is also thematically the opposite of what L/cien needs.

Unlike Azriel, L/cien has experienced true, authentic, deep, consensual love. And the first thing he does when he meets Elain is compare her to the woman he loves, and frankly, he's not really understanding how someone like Elain could be his mate because she is so different from Jesminda.

L/cien is attracted to wildness, mischief and laughter. Someone who loved him not because of his status or stature, but choosing him for who he was. This is never going to be possible with Elain. L/cien's status as a High Lord's son plays a huge role in Rhys not wanting Azriel to interfere with their relationship. At this point, even if Azriel never pursues Elain again, that is the reason why. The Blood Duel, and L/ucien's status as a High Lord's son. If L/ucien were not these things, Rhys never would have interrupted their kiss. So even if Elain *chooses* L/cien in the end, it will never have been without question. It will never be untangled with this status as a High Lord's son, and it will never be because they weren't mates first before falling in love. In Lucien's monologue about Jesminda, we learn that the mating bond is not the ideal way for L/cien to fall in love either. With all his trauma and abuse and lack of choice in his own life, he both wants and deserves to be loved without question. This will absolutely never be true with Elain, no matter how their story develops.

Lucien desires to be chosen away from High Fae culture and societal expectations. We also see how he is drawn to things wild and free, who says to hell with all of it. I'm choosing who I love and how I show up in this world.

And then we meet the human queen Vassa.

A foul mouthed, foul tempered queen who Lucien warns Feyre of right away that she will corner her to ask for help breaking her curse (which she absolutely does 🤣)

In the same book where Lucien can't help but compare Elain to the fiery love of his life, and feel Elain was thrown at him, he winds up on an adventure with a literal firebird queen with the attitude and energy to match. Perhaps someone who could taunt and tease Lucien within an inch of his life?

Thematically, Lucien has also struggled with the concept of home. He has bounced from court to court, facing different forms of abuse and control. He has never been truly free or comfortable anywhere he has lived. And he doesn't feel truly free or comfortable in Velaris. In fact, he can't stand it.

This is similar to what happened with Jesminda and the Autumn court. Her people no longer welcome Lucien because they believe he is responsible for what happened to her. Lucien doesn't want to return to Tamlin, but Spring was his home, and now he can't return there either because those outside of the high lords manor hate him for believing him being complicit.

Lucien and Vassa are also tied thematically through themes of manipulation and two faced people selling them out.

Which again, brings us full circle to L/ucien's theme of passivity. He believes he did not protect Jesminda. That her death was a betrayal of trust. This is a deep wound that needs healing.

Meanwhile, when it comes to Elain, he has maintained a passive stance. He is always telling others to get her back, or take her here, or do this. But if something were to happen to her, he never would have been the one to step in and stop it. He is repeating his passive behavior with Elain, beyond simply staying away from her. The theme is rooted much more deeply than that. It is tied to his past traumas and failures.

Meanwhile, when it comes to Vassa, he stares out to sea and sets a target on Koschei.

Elain is not going to be the one to shake L/ucien out of passivity and into action. Vassa is. And my understanding is that even E/ucien's believe this is true, they just assume Elain will be required for some reason. But what the E/ucien version of saving Vassa lacks is thematic resolution. Character arc and growth. L/cien's love interest being the foil to his passivity. Forcing Elain into the saving Vassa storyline makes it less of an emotional growth arc for all characters involved.

So no, I don't think Elain is right for L/cien, and I don't think L/cien thinks she is either. He is going to have to step up and fight for his woman. He has to face ghosts haunting him, and the fact that he didn't protect the woman he loves in the past. He is showing no protective, proactive behavior towards Elain. He *is* showing protective, proactive behavior with Vassa.

Azriel is not showing the ability to find peace and rest and breaks from work and training with G/wyn. He *is* showing the ability to find peace and rest and breaks from training with Elain. He is not showing an ability to let his hands touch someone's skin and work through the traumatic feelings that can bring up with G/wyn. He *is* experiencing that with Elain.

Obviously Elain's choice is theme, and we all know where that is headed. But it IS worthwhile to (occasionally 😝) pay attention to the men and their deeper traumas, threads and themes, and look at where the work of storytelling is already healing those things as opposed to putting the emotional labor on the women of the story to magically fix their men in their future books.

Phew, this wound up being a lot longer than I intended for it to be! I also agree that there are a lot of women projecting an incredible amount of internalized misogyny and frankly the least woman first takes I have ever seen in this fandom. It's disheartening and bizarre, especially when there is so much fantasy written by men where women solely exist to get r/aped or fill the needs of men. We should be celebrating stories written by women and for women, and appreciate authors who push against the societal norms of the roles women play in fantasy books and in real life.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"All right, guys, I hope you all come to the stream in four hours! Aren't you all soooo excited to see such a big, soft pair of breasts like mine get completely destroyed? Judging by all the DMs I get from men practically begging me to get them chopped off and livestream it, I'd say a lot of you. I know, some of you would far rather me continue taking breast growth drugs and get these puppies so massive I need a wheelbarrow to get around. And that would be fun, but it's so much naughtier to ruin something so perfect......

Well, the actual reason is simpler! I'm a personal trainer, and work with lots of different clients from all walks of life. I met a really cute surgeon who was enamored with my breasts as all my other clients. He asked to touch them, grope them, I began offering to let him suck them as a reward for meeting his goals, as I did with most of my male clients. I swear half the time our gym looked less like a gym and more like some adult breastfeeding lounge. All of us girls with breasts as huge as mine or bigger, smothering our male clients with our giant breasts, enthusiastically letting them drink our milk as we jerk off their cocks. A nice job well done for completing their routines.....

This guy was different, he marveled at my tits in a different way. His mouth watered, but not the way I'm used to. He pulled away from my breast one day and confessed that he fantasized about chopping off my boobs. His cock got so hard in my hand I thought it would erupt right then and there. He said he only became a surgeon to convince huge-breasted girls they needed their tits chopped off, usually tricking them or lying to them, making up a story about lumps or tumors or family history necessitating a rather graphic double mastectomy, always streamed live to his Instagram.

I watched his content and never in my life have I masturbated with so much raw energy. I felt as desperate as all the gym dudes I breastfed and jerked off. Dozens and dozens of beautiful girls with breasts my size, sometimes bigger, sometimes quite smaller, all awake. They watched curiously as he administered a paralyzing drug that made it so they couldn't move. Though some of the girls were outright paralyzed from the shoulders down for the surgery, usually at the behest of their husband or boyfriend. The surgeon would use a creative variety of ways to remove the girls' big gorgeous boobs, sometimes being casual and simply dismantling them with a few scalpels and other surgical tools, with the help of his pretty assistant, a cheery blonde who was often extremely pregnant. Boy, I wonder who kept her so enormously pregnant? What a mystery.....

Other times, the surgeon would use absurd methods like placing the girls' tits on a cutting board and just chopping them off with a weapon like an axe or sword. You couldn't say the guy wasn't passionate. After watching more of his 'surgery' videos than I care to admit, I called him sweating, rubbing my cunt despite having just orgasmed about fifteen times in the last three or four hours. I was coated in my juices. I was exhausted, almost ready to pass out. I told him I wanted him to destroy my breasts as soon as possible. But on one condition..... I wanted him to crush my tits. Flatten them, so the fat bursts out the sides, making a total mess. He seemed to love this idea. Now I'm sitting here in my work uniform. His personal trainer, coming in to take some punishment of my own for a change. Call it payback for pushing him so hard at the gym, or a reward for doing so well. Either way, I can't wait for millions to tune in and watch my gorgeous, fat titties get crushed like pancakes! Then maybe I'll have the surgeon take a few pics of me with my empty, saggy tits as a new profile picture..... Maybe I'll try to jiggle them and put on a show for you? While they're still numb..... then what's left will be sliced off and tossed in the trash, where my fat, oversized cow tits truly belong! ❤️"

[night-dazai]

Hiii you ahould totally do like a romantic/fluffy s/o dancing with dazai like that scene with sigma and dazai😔🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 i wish to dance with this man😍

Dancing with the Changed Devil : 

Dazai X Reader 

This request was such a lovely and sweet one thanks i enjoyed imaging and writing this . !!😊

The party was loud and after work this was not helping you in any way. Dazai had gone into a room with Mori and the director “ 2 hours now “ you signed look at your phone once again . After defeating all villains you crave rest while the world wants to celebrate you but all you aksed was for a DAYS OFF , you did not get it . Now you sat in the party hall as all of the agency was out there eating(ranpo) , networking (Kunikida ) and the other kids running around and dancing. You smiled at them all enjoying this enev though you did not much front line work as your ability was more of a backup plan but the image of people close to you being dead haunted you for nights and thus you sat there tired and sleepless in the red gown hair loose waiting for your bf .

The director came out talking with Dazai “ yes sir of course i see it all donee~” you heard your lover's dramatic voice. After talking with him they both walked to you “ y/n if you are very tired yo-” he could not finish as the hall went dim “ now for the special show , lovers, couples all take the dance floor all yours “ the host announced. Dazai’s eyes twinkled as he swiftly grabbed your hand “y/n lets go !” his childlike enthusiasm made you smile but not move “ i am tired please” you said softly. Normally he would push you more but now he knew the stress you were under and kissed your knuckles “ lets go home Donna “ he said. Both of you left the party very early saying your byes to all of the members. 

The cab ride was quiet as both of you just started at each and out of the window “ its hurts is it time ?” you wondered holding your abdomen. Dazai noticing how you held yourself asked worried “Bella?” his hand on top of yours on your stomach “All right ?” his eyes worried. Smiling “ yeah ..think its time, “ you said making him blink twice before he got the meaning “Ahhhh~~~ lovely doll come here i will provide you warmth . “ he said opening his arms . You were sure the driver was cringing at you two but you couldn't care less and settled into his arms and went into a long slumber. 

Dazai put you on the bed and went to change his clothes. As your opened your eyes feeling your soft bed under you wonder you mumbled “ dazai?..” “ one second love “ he said from the other side and the bathroom door opened with him coming out “ i bought some pads change up i will make something warm “ he said walking into the kitchen kissing your forehead. As you were changing your mind wondered “Does he hate me for what i said there “ you thought washing your face “ but i am tired and periods no wonder i felt cranky “ you thought but the more you thought the more guilty you felt and soon you come out and sat on your bed crying in the sheets to be found by Dazai with 2 cups of coco milk .

“Y/N!” he said keeping the cups down and removing the sheets from you searching for any signs of injury “ what happened why are you crying ?” his voice filled with worry only made you sobs worse. Your hid your face in his chest as he patted your head worried but sure you were not hurt physically  “Maybe periods is soo bad ? did she fall in the bathroom, did someone say something to her in the hall…” as his mind raced all thoughts he looked down hearing your soft sorry’s. Confused he held your chin gently forcing you to look up “ why love ?” “ you ..you wanted to dance…i said noo..i am sorry i am really tired did not mean itt….i “you kept mumbling making his heart squee both in pain and love . “how did i end up with someone so cute This is not possible, “ Dazai thought and laughed making you look at him confused “Periods is messing her head “ he mumbled and before you could hear it he had you on your feet dragging you to your balcony. 

The moon was there big and bright shining on you two, he kneeled “ my dear y/n would you do the honour and dance with this undeserving man ?” his voice laced with love and passion he kissed your hands. Wiping your tears you nodded your head , your fingers intertwined his and one of his hands rested on your waist and the other pulled and guided you. His movements were soft and gentle “Love i want you and nothing you say can ever hurt me “ he whispered into your ear seeing you calm down. Both your bodies swayed to the rhythm “wait !” he suddenly paused and went back and got his phone playing the most romantic song he knew “ lets dance love “ he said. You saw the same energy in his eyes and knew he was not mad “ yes dear “ . You twirled and twisted guided by his gentle but strong hands not letting you go even for a second. As you bent back the music ended with Dazai whispering on your neck “Darling i must warn you again i don't deserve you i am a monster you know that right ?” he asked pulling you up and hugging you to his chest.

Smiling you pushed him and got on your knees making his eyes go wide “ Dazai Osamu , devil or angel, good or bad dont care. I want you , i love you and will always be with you . you dont want marriage no probs lets stay like this , you want to go forward lets go , anything you want i am at your command “ you said like a knight saying his oath to their king and as you looked up it was a heavenly scene which your eyes observed. The tall bandaged creature stood having a hand to his mouth as his chocolate brown hair swayed in the slow wind the big moon behind him he tried to hold his tears in but his brown orbs did not allow it . As he fell crying you hugged him “my my Osamu how in the world did i end up with someone soo precious as you . You won't hate me if i say not dancing our going out if i am tired right ? “ you said into his ear just to get a nod from the fragile man in your arms. 

this is how he looks when he says he wants to dance with you !!!

[avatar-anna]

can we get a cute little something between yn and simone maybe current. maybe they do a little girls day and harry isn’t jealous but finds it hard to handle because yn has a special relationship with her since she spent so much time with simone. but harry would be the sweetest and be supportive and when they get back ask all about it.

you can totally change that i just rambled with what I thought apparently lol

summary: three times young mom!reader and simone went on their mommy-daughter dates

word count: 3k

mostly y/n and not harry which y'all might not like, but i thought it was cute

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

The first time Y/n took Simone out on a Mommy-daughter date, she was seven months pregnant. She was alone in Holmes Chapel, a town she was relatively new to, with nothing to do. Harry was across the globe on tour because his management wouldn’t let him come home until the last possible moment, his mother was at work, and she was in her boyfriend’s childhood home, balancing a bowl of chocolate covered almonds on her baby bump and flipping through British reality television, which was decidedly not as good as the American programs.

“What should we do today, little melon?” she asked, rubbing her belly. Laughing to herself, she added, “Not so little anymore.”

Not that there was anything to do. Holmes Chapel was fairly sleepy, with a small strip of stores on the main road and farmland. Lots and lots of farmland. It was nothing like Y/n was used to growing up, and while Anne was nice, she didn’t know the woman all that well and didn’t really know how to talk to her. It felt like there was a big elephant in the room every time they sat down to eat.

But Y/n was so bored. She was used to going out with friends, talking to people, feeling the sun on her skin. Holmes Chapel was not home, but it was too late to go back now, though the house she grew up in currently wasn’t all that inviting either.

She eventually decided on getting her nails done. Y/n had seen one salon when she went with Anne to the grocery store, and it was the first thing she thought of now. Struggling to an upright position, she put on some comfortable clothes, slid into her shoes, and set off. 

Y/n ignored the stares as she passed people on the street. She got a lot of stares now that she couldn’t hide her bump anymore. Friends of Anne asked who Y/n was with wide eyes the first time they’d gone out together, and Anne calmly explained that Y/n was a cousin’s friend who needed a place to stay. Not the truth, but they weren’t allowed to tell the truth. And since Y/n had a young face, people stared, showed their visible disdain or disapproval of her being pregnant at such a young age. She was sick of the looks, which was why she mostly kept to the confines of Anne’s home, but she was feeling particularly restless today and decided to just deal with everyone’s judgment.

Anne never judged her, though. Not once, which Y/n appreciated.

The nail salon was small with a tinny bell attached to the door, announcing her arrival to the establishment. The woman manning the front desk widened her eyes at the sight of Y/n’s belly, but thankfully recovered quickly. “Can I help you?”

“A manicure and a pedicure, please?” she asked, hating how heads turned at the sound of her accent. Another thing that made her stick out around here.

“Of course, right this way,” the woman said, pointing to one of the cushiony chairs with a tub attached. 

Y/n knew she didn’t really have much money to be spending on something like getting her nails done, but she just felt so gross some days. Her ankles were swelling, she had acne, got hot flashes, got nauseous around certain smells. This was a small thing to make her feel just a little more normal again.

She heaved herself into the chair, resting her head with her eyes closed once she got her feet up. The walk had made her tired, made her feet hurt, but it was worth it.

“Miss?”

Y/n opened her eyes to find a different woman standing next to her. “Hi, sorry. Just a little tired.”

“Did you walk here?” she asked Y/n, eyes widening for a completely different reason than talking to a teen mom.

“Yeah, I—I don’t have a car,” Y/n said lamely. Not that she’d be able to drive in a completely different country anyway. “But it’s fine, I—Oh shoot. I forgot to pick out a color.”

She began to get out of her seat when the woman rested a hand on her shoulder. “No need. What color were you thinking?”

“Light yellow? Pastel?” she said, the color of one of the onesies she bought online the other day coming to mind. It felt silly to think about matching with her baby that hadn’t even been born yet, but it was out before Y/n could take it back.

“I know just the thing. Toes too?”

Y/n nodded before resting her head again. She picked up her phone. To play a game or scroll through Instagram, she wasn’t sure. Y/n didn’t like going on social media all that much these days. It was a reminder of her life back home, of all her friends moving on and doing normal eighteen year old things. She didn’t regret her decision in having the baby or moving, but some days were better than others. 

She decided on a message to Harry instead. He probably wouldn’t see it for a few hours, but she knew he would appreciate waking up to or coming off the stage to an update.

Y/n: on my first official mommy daughter date!

Before she hit send, she quickly erased the message and closed her phone.

I’m a mom, she thought. Y/n was seven months pregnant, and she would be having a baby soon, but she’d never called herself a mom before, didn’t believe it until right this second. But she was a mom. A good, bad, or average one time would only tell, but it scared her none the less.

“How far along are you?”

Y/n looked to her right at the woman who was sitting in the chair beside hers. Middle aged, clear skin, kind brown eyes. She didn’t look at Y/n the way other people did. There was no judgment, no preconceived notions about what kind of girl Y/n was, just plain curiosity.

Clearing her throat, Y/n said, “Twenty-nine weeks.”

“Almost to the end, then,” the woman said. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

“I think so. Have to run it by the dad first,” she said, resting her hands on her bump instinctively. “But I call her Simone.”

“That’s beautiful,” the woman said. “Can I offer a tip?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Lavender and chamomile,” she said. “Essential oils that help with relaxation and peaceful sleep.”

Y/n knew she probably looked exhausted, which was why the woman offered that particular piece of advice, but Y/n took it happily anyway. “That really helps?”

The woman smiled, and it wasn’t in a condescending way. “It does. The smells are supposed to relax you.”

Before Y/n could say anything else, her nail tech returned with two bottles of nail polish in slightly different shades of pastel yellow in her hand. “How do these look?”

For the next hour, Y/n didn’t worry about a thing. She let the nail tech take care of her, who encouraged Y/n to close her eyes and relax. And she did. For a whole hour, the baby didn’t kick, her back didn’t hurt, and she felt her shoulders slowly lose tension. She almost didn’t want it to be over. When it was, though, Y/n felt ten times better. She felt normal, a feeling that was hard to come by these days.

“Thank you,” Y/n said to her nail tech, handing cash over. “I…I really needed this.”

“Come back when your daughter is old enough,” the woman said. “You can get matching nails together.”

And when little Simone was old enough, Y/n did take her to the small nail salon. Her feet dangled in the cushiony chair, and she giggled when someone tried to touch her feet. She and Y/n got matching sparkly purple nails because that was what Simone wanted, and Y/n couldn’t help but comply. And everyone was just as nice and doting as the first time Y/n came in, and every time after that.

That was a favorite outing for Y/n and Simone when they did their mommy-daughter dates. They wouldn’t always go to the salon in Holmes Chapel, of course, but they got their nails done together frequently, from the first time with the sparkly nails and to Simone’s first dance and so on.

“Are you sure Daddy can’t come?”

“It’s for me and Mommy only! No Daddy allowed!”

Harry clutched his chest as if Simone had wounded him. He leaned back on the couch and slid down a little, making a real show of it. He peeked an eye open to see Simone’s reaction. Her hair, which was tied up in two little pigtails with bows on each one, swung back and forth as she shook her head, clearly exasperated by her father’s antics.

“We can play later, Daddy,” she said, skipping over to Harry. She jumped onto his stomach and squished his cheeks between her hands. “Stop being sad.”

“I can’t. Your mother is hogging you. She’s hogging my baby,” he joked. Kind of.

Harry knew all about Y/n and Simone’s mommy-daughter dates. Y/n often went out with Simone when they joined him on tour. She liked to get Simone out of the hotel rooms, find something fun for the two of them to do together. Harry was all for it, of course. He didn’t like that Y/n sometimes felt trapped when she traveled with him, and this was an opportunity to see the world in a way that some people didn’t get to. He sometimes felt left out, but he imagined that was how Y/n felt a lot of the time.

“You’d hate it. We’re going to the American Girl Doll store.”

Harry raised his eyes to see Y/n standing at the foot of the couch dressed for the day in a flowy sundress that covered her baby bump. Baby number two, Harry thought excitedly. He didn’t think that would be in their cards, but all it took was a few months of him being on hiatus and bam! Y/n was pregnant.

Putting an affronted hand on his chest, Harry said, “I love American Girl Dolls.”

Y/n bent down and kissed his forehead. “Then we can go again tomorrow. I’m sure our little melon won’t mind, will she?”

Simone nodded excitedly. “You can come with us tomorrow, Daddy!”

Tapping Simone on the nose with his knuckle, Harry said, “Promise?”

Simone nodded, showing off her biggest smile, which was now missing a tooth. “Promise.”

Y/n reached down and stretched her arms out to take Simone, and she happily leapt up into her arms. Behind his daughter’s back, Harry stuck his tongue out at Y/n, and once Simone was settled with her, Y/n stuck her tongue out back at him.

Simone was asleep when she and Y/n came back. “A long day of shopping,” Y/n said, passing the sleeping five year old over to him. Harry spent the afternoon reading and watching TV and doing a little bit of writing while they were gone, but he just wanted to be with his girls, all three of them. He knew Y/n and Simone’s days together were special, and he knew that he could just as easily have his own special day with his daughter, but sometimes he felt like there was an invisible wall with Y/n and Simone on one side and him on the other. He was doing all he could to get past or move around it, but they were so close having spent so much time together, just the two of them.

“You know,” Y/n said, settling onto the bed next to him. “All my little melon could talk about was showing you the doll she bought today.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. She wanted to wait until tomorrow to pick out all of the clothes and accessories because you have the best clothes.”

Harry grinned, running a hand over one of Simone’s pigtails. “Really?”

Y/n leaned over and kissed her husband’s cheek. “She loves you. Just as much as she loves me.”

“I know,” he said, a blush pinking his cheeks. “I know she does, but—”

“Simone idolizes you, baby,” Y/n said. “You, sir, are her hero. She asked me the other day if she could bring you to Career Day. And before that, she said she wanted to be you for Halloween.”

“I’d be the coolest dad at Career Day,” Harry said, even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it.

“You would, and you’re the coolest dad here too. At home. So no more moping. No more pouting about mommy-daughter time, you hear me?”

“I hear you. No more pouting. Kiss?”

Y/n hummed, somewhat suspiciously. “Sometimes I think you pout just so I’ll kiss you.”

“I would never,” Harry said with a gasp, but he was grinning just the same as he leaned in. “Is it working?”

Narrowing her eyes, she said, “You’re lucky you’re cute. Come here.”

“So, who’s the boy?”

“Wha—What are you talking about? There’s no—How did you know?”

Y/n grinned and winked at Simone from her seat in the salon chair. “I’m your mother, Simone. I know everything.”

Simone huffed and sat back in her chair. “I thought that was just a line parents used to scare their kids.”

“Sometimes it is, most times it isn’t,” Y/n said. “So…?”

Y/n knew Simone would’ve fiddled with her hands if she could, but the nail tech was currently working on painting one of them a pale yellow. “He…hardly notices me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“We sit next to each other in history class and sometimes we work on discussion questions together, but other than that it’s like—it’s like we live on two different planets. How do I get him to notice me?”

“How should I know? I don’t have much experience when it comes to guys,” Y/n said, joking with her daughter just a little. 

Seeing right through it, Simone narrowed her eyes at Y/n and said, “You’ve been with Dad since you were seventeen. You know something.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Y/n said. “I’m not gonna tell you how I charmed your father because you’ll go, ‘Ew you’re my parents! Don’t talk about Dad like that!’ So I won’t. What I can tell you is be yourself and if there is a common interest between the two of you that doesn’t have to do with history homework, and start there. Shared interests is always a great place to start.”

“It’s that simple?”

“It’s that simple.”

“Oh.”

Simone and Y/n were quiet for few minutes while the women in the small nail salon they’d been going to for years worked on their hands. Y/n didn’t live in Anne’s house in Holmes Chapel, and she was far from pregnant, but she still liked to come back and get her nails done with Simone whenever they came back to visit Harry’s family. Simone got harder and harder to pin down as she got older, but Y/n was always surprised when her oldest daughter cancelled her plans when she offered they go somewhere, just the two of them. Y/n loved all of her children dearly and had a special connection with each of them. But these moments, this one on one time with Simone was something she held close to her heart.

“Dad’s gonna freak when he finds out, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Not sure I can stop that, sorry.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Can’t you just not tell him?”

“He’s my husband, little melon. I tell him everything.”

“Well can you hold off until there’s actually something to say?”

Y/n took the free moment to lean over to Simone’s chair and kissed her forehead. “Course.”

After they finished getting their nails done, they took the familiar walk back to Anne’s house. Y/n looped her arm through Simone’s, enjoying the familiar press of her daughter against her side. “You know, when I was about your age—”

“You walked all the way from Nana’s house with me in your belly so you could get your nail’s done. I remember,” Simone said. Y/n told the story every time they went to the salon together.

“Are you going to let me finish?”

“Go ahead.”

So Y/n continued her story all the way until they reached the house. “And when I told your dad about it, he was so jealous. He was all, ‘I can get my nails done too, you know!’ But I said, ‘No. Get you’re own thing. This is ours,’” she said.

“Dad and I don’t have a thing,” Simone said.

“Sure you do. He’ll help you pick out your prom dress, pay for college, and walk you down the aisle. That’s three things right there.”

“Now I get to tell Dad something that’ll make him annoyed with you.”

Y/n playfully pinched Simone’s arm. “You listen here, my little melon, Harry Styles is a lot of things, and at the top of that list is an absolute pushover when it comes to his children. He would make traveling to the moon your ‘thing’ if you asked him.”

“I know. We go to the movies every two weeks. He and Julian go for drives to the grocery store when we’re all on our periods, and…I think he recently took up surfing with Maeve.”

Y/n knew all of this, of course. Harry was always looking to spend time with his kids, and now that they were all getting older and more independent, it was harder to get alone time with them. Except for Natalia and Geneva, who were still young and thought he was the coolest person on the planet. Y/n and Simone had their little dates, and now Y/n got to impart wisdom to her daughter from time to time, but for as long as Simone could speak she and Harry had their thing: she and Harry were terrible gossips.

“Hm. So, what do you think? Lunch before going home? Thrift store?” Y/n asked.

“Let’s just go back. I’m sure the house has descended into chaos without us,” Simone said, picking up her pace.

Y/n grinned and followed her daughter down the familiar sidewalk, each step bringing back memories of all the times she’d walked down it; from having a baby in her belly to holding her in her arms to walking side by side with her daughter who was now taller than her.

[kodamaghost00]

30 Charlie headcanons

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[Disclaimer!!]

I know Chaggie is canon but for the sakes of this post Charlie will be single. [Im a passionate chaggie shipper pls don’t kill me]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut

It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys! You're a new resident at the Hotel in this scenario.

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Let’s begin!

Her favorite nicknames for you are “Sunshine” and “Pumpkin”. And everything sweet in general.

She makes you breakfast every morning and gets excited when you do the same.

Loves morning cuddles. She’d stay in bed just enjoying the embrace and warmth of your body.

Would not really understand your interests but enjoys seeing you being happy. So she will engage and learn about your interests and hobbies. “So you’re into that? Sounds interesting, Sunshine!”

She is definitely an early sleeper. She wants to get the most out of a day as possible.

Listens to 2017 white girl music on a daily basis and you guys vibe all the time.

After she got to meet Rosie she always went to her for advice or help in general.

She gets very flustered and ashamed when people as about her sexual life and declines to talk about it openly.

She likes PDA a lot though. Showing off her perfect partner with kisses and hand holding? Fuck yeah!

She definitely confessed her love to you first. She gave you flowers and a love letter wich read “Please be mine and go on a date with me!”. With an adorable doodle next to it.

She’s more of a dog person but loves KeeKee with her whole heart.

She’s is surprisingly dominant in bed. She pins you down aggressively but afterwards asks you if you are okay with it.

She is very flexible so there are many poses you guys could try out.

She enjoys oral a bit more than anything else. Seeing you shutter under her control makes her feel very reassured.

She definitely goes into her demon form when she’s close. Her tail wrapping around her waist trying to keep her composer.

Great at aftercare. She makes sure you feel reassured and comfortable once you’re finished. Cuddles and kisses are a must.

“Are you comfortable pumpkin? Would you like a towel?” And also whispering reassurance to you is important. “You did great by the way… you look so cute!”. A total sweetheart.

She is great with all sorts of people. Even the ones who are really disrespectful to her. So sometimes you keep those people in place.

Won’t curse until she needs to. She isn’t really going hard on the curses when she does curse. A simple “Fuck you” or “Motherfucker” is enough for her.

She absolutely adores kids. She also wants at least two in the future.

Gets shy easily. When you compliment her hair or her big round eyes she gets flustered right away.

In her emo phase she definitely said “ITS NOT A PHASE!” and now she looks back on it and laughs every time.

Hopes she will see Emily again one day. They definitely had a great time together.

If you’re not able to sleep at night she’s singing you to sleep. With your head on her lap and her playing with your hair.

LOVED the Barbie movie and rewatched it twice. And cried at the ending.

She is an hardworking woman so she’s encouraging you to help her out a lot. Trying to make you feel included!

When she gets overwhelmed she locks herself in her room and cries herself to sleep.

“Hey Charlie…? Are you okay…?” You asked knowing she’s feeling down. “Y-yeah! I’m fine pumpkin… don’t worry!!” “You don’t have to pretend my love…”

She sighed as she opened her door. You see her puffed up eyes so you open your arms wide. “Come here…” she hugs you deeply. “Thank you…”

You kiss her forehead as she embraces the hug. “No need to thank me sweetheart.”

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MASTERLIST

Yes I know no one asked for this but I love Charlie so you gotta listen to me rant about her. Give my girly more love and attention! So as always I’d love to get some requests for characters, I’ll try to do all of them but there’s so many! Thanks for reading my dear friends and have a lovely day/night!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ