#I just felt like sharing that the ideas are right there

[punkshort]

Birthday Wishes

Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's Joel's birthday and he only has one wish.

Warnings: language, hallmark style fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food and alcohol consumption, anxiety

WC: 5K

Series Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Today was the day.

He was really going to do it this time.

He chickened out countless times already but this time, he was going to go through with it.

He was going to ask you to marry him.

The ring had a permanent home in his pocket by now, always waiting for the 'perfect time', for 'the right moment', and so many passed him by with his fingertips brushing up against the smooth gold deep in his pocket. Like the time he took you to a baseball game and you made it on the kiss cam. Or when you rented a lake house for a weekend getaway and you watched the sunset together from the front porch with a shared blanket draped over your knees.

Goddamnit, he was so nervous it was making him sick. What was he so worried for? He didn't think you would say no, although you haven't even been together even a year yet. Maybe it was too soon for you. He could have asked you two weeks after meeting you and it wouldn't have made a difference to him, he knew right away. But maybe it was different for you.

But on Father's Day, you did admit to wanting kids with him one day. So you must have been thinking about your future together, even a little. Right?

He should just do it right now. Just get it over with and slide the ring on your finger while you slept so peacefully next to him. It wasn't a half bad idea, but he always envisioned his proposal being a little more meaningful, and it felt like taking the easy way out if he just put it on your finger while you were asleep.

You deserved better than that. You deserved a whole speech on why you're so fucking perfect and how much you've changed his and Sarah's lives. And everyone should know it, not just the two of you. Everyone should hear how incredible you are and how happy you were together. If he could, despite his nerves, he would broadcast it on national television.

Then, right as you stirred, the perfect idea hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What're you smiling about?" you yawned when you peered up at him from your pillow.

"Nothin'," he said before slinking back down into bed to wrap his arms around you. You tucked your face into his neck and wedged one of your legs between both of his and it was fucking heaven the way your body fit perfectly against him. Then, you practically jumped awake when you remembered what day it was.

"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed, tipping your head back with a huge smile.

"Thank you, baby," he murmured, pinching your chin and tugging you closer so he could press your lips together.

"Feeling your age yet, Miller?" you teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows, and he laughed, pushing his hips against you underneath the covers. When you felt the growing erection in his sweatpants, you giggled and squirmed away. "Guess that answers that question," you said, tossing the covers off you so you could stand. Joel frowned and reached out for you.

"Where you goin'?"

"I have laundry to do and a whole house to clean, not to mention food to make for your party later," you reminded him. You tugged your shirt over your head so you could put on a bra and clean shirt and Joel groaned from his spot in bed when he caught a glimpse of your bare chest.

"Can't give me twenty minutes 'fore you start all that?"

You had just clasped your bra and held your shirt in your hand when you turned back around, on the verge of telling him you really didn't have the time to spare because you both knew he would take longer than twenty minutes, but then you saw how fucking breathtakingly handsome he looked all shrouded with sleep, hair tousled and voice rough, and you couldn't resist. It was his birthday, after all. With a sigh and a smirk, you jumped back into bed, straddling his lap and laughing when his eyes lit up with delight.

"Twenty minutes - I'm holding you to it."

Thank goodness for Sarah. She helped you clean the house, move the laundry, and then hung all the decorations while you checked on the cake in the oven and began to marinate the burgers, chicken and steaks.

Joel offered to help countless times but you kept refusing. Instead, you pushed him outside to relax in the sun while you worked away in the kitchen. You had the foresight to make two pasta salads the day before but you still needed to cook up the yams, get the dough for the biscuits ready, and chop up vegetables for a green salad.

Luckily your gift, two tickets for really good seats to a basketball game, was small enough to just shove into a card, one which you already wrote a sappy little love letter to him on the inside.

"Alright, living room's all set. What else?" Sarah asked when she breezed into the room. You glanced at the time before looking out the window.

"Can you start setting up the tables and chairs in the yard? The tablecloths are right there," you said, pointing to the pile on the counter which also consisted of paper plates and napkins.

"You got it," she said, but before she jogged outside, you called after her, "You're a lifesaver!"

"I know!" she shouted back, then the sliding door shut, leaving you all alone in the kitchen. You had enough time, you just needed to keep moving, but you did pause long enough to connect your phone to a speaker so you could listen to some music while you worked.

About thirty minutes later, some movement caught your eye through the window over the sink that looked out onto the backyard. You smiled when you saw Tommy and Maria climb the deck stairs to give Joel matching hugs and a small blue gift bag. Maria stepped back when the two men began laughing after Tommy made an old man joke and she caught your eye in the window. She gave you an excited wave and jogged into the house, sliding the door shut behind her and tossing her purse on the table.

"Hey!" she sang out, pulling her hair back. "Give me something to do."

You immediately put her in charge of the salad and the yams while you got all the appetizers ready, eternally grateful for her help. And she worked fast, too. Before you knew it, you had all the appetizers out on the counter ready to be taken outside but guests didn't arrive for another forty five minutes.

"I think we've earned a couple drinks of our own," Maria said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and jutting her chin towards the glass door where Joel and Tommy sat, beers in hand and feet kicked up, relaxing in the sun.

"Hell, yeah," you replied, swiveling around to yank a bottle of wine from the fridge. "White wine good with you?"

"Absolutely," she said, reaching on her tip toes to grab a couple wine glasses from the top shelf of your cupboard.

"Oh, my god, did Joel do these?" she asked when she closed the door and saw the intricate designs carved into the wood. You turned around and nodded fondly.

"Aren't they amazing?"

"Shit, I didn't know he was so creative," Maria said in awe, fingertips dragging over a cluster of little birds.

"He did them in my parents' house, too," you told her as you carefully poured two glasses of wine. "I told him he would make so much money if he advertised that skill a little more, but he said he doesn't want to. Said it would suck all the fun out of it."

Maria rolled her eyes in disbelief before clinking your glasses together and taking a sip.

"Is your family coming tonight?"

You nodded and rushed over to the oven to turn off a timer. "Yep. My parents, my sister, her husband and my niece."

"Anna, right? How old is she now?"

You sighed and took another sip of your wine. "Six months, can you believe it? Cassie's already begging Josh for another one, she's absolutely insane."

"Speaking of," Maria said, nodding out the window. You turned to see your family climbing the stairs of the deck, loudly wishing Joel happy birthday and giving him hugs and slaps on the back.

"Shit, maybe we should take some of these outside," you said, pointing to the appetizers.

"Let's take the cold ones out and leave the warm ones in the oven til more people arrive."

Maria and Sarah were unbelievably helpful the entire party. Sarah made sure everyone had drinks and knew where the coolers were while Maria was constantly picking up after everyone. Tommy even volunteered to grill so you could spend some time catching up with your family.

"Buck, where's Joel?" Cassie asked, looking around the crowded yard. You peered through the throngs of people until your brow relaxed and you smiled, pointing to the corner of the lawn.

"Looks like he's playing cornhole with some guys from work."

"How're things goin' with him, honey?" your father asked. You swirled around and frowned at the term of endearment.

"'Honey'?" you repeated, the word sounding vile on your tongue. "You never call me that. You only ever call me Bucky."

Your dad shook his head and took a sip of beer. "Not true. I call you all sorts'a things."

"No," Cassie said, one hand on her hip and the other cradling Anna. "You don't, Dad."

He rolled his eyes and looked to your mom for help.

"I think Dad's just wondering if things with you and Joel are still going good. He just worries about you," your mom explained, wrapping an arm around your dad's sizable waist. "You know, since moving in together. It's a big step and-"

"And we were thinkin' you might've gotten a new piece of jewelry by now, is all," you dad finished for her.

"Dad!" you exclaimed, face instantly growing hot. Thank fuck Joel wasn't around to hear that. The last thing you wanted to do was pressure him but still, the image of a small velvet box you saw tucked into his underwear drawer when you first moved in danced across your vision. "We are extremely happy, thank you very much. I'm begging you, please don't say something like that in front of him."

"Don't worry, Buck, I won't let him," Cassie promised. "Dad! You can't pressure them like that! Joel's probably just taking his time and not rushing anything because of the whole Will fiasco."

You cringed and looked away at the mention of your ex-fiancé who cheated on you with your ex-best friend back in New York City.

"It hasn't even been a year yet," you grumbled, "I'm happy, he's happy, can we please change the subject now?"

"Of course we can, Buck," your mom said, then patted your dad on his belly. "Did you tell the girls about Auntie Carolyn?"

You breathed a sigh of relief when your dad launched into a story about his sister meeting some guy at church and what a big deal it was for her as it was the first date she had been on since her husband passed away almost twenty years ago. At some point near the end of the story, Joel had sidled up next to you. His arm snaked around your middle and he pressed his lips lovingly against the side of your head, murmuring so only you could hear about what a great party it was and how he was having a fantastic time. You leaned into him, tuning your mom and dad out when the conversation began to dwindle into some dumb argument over which month your uncle died.

"Did you eat?" he asked you, looking down at you like you were the only two people on earth, his deep brown eyes sparkling brightly as they drifted over your face.

"I did, did you?"

"Mhm, ate too much. Everythin' was so perfect, baby, thank you," he said before capturing your lips with his. His mouth lingered a moment too long and if you hadn't already tasted the beer from his kiss, his delayed reaction pulling away would have been your next clue.

"How much did you have to drink?" you giggled, your family now completely ignored. It wasn't your fault. It was the effect Joel had on you, and you wouldn't change it for anything.

"Not that much," he replied, and you scoffed before rolling your eyes. "No, I'm serious. Only had, ah, three, I think. I ain't drunk."

"It's okay if you are, it's your birthday-"

"No, listen to me. I ain't drunk," he repeated, staring you dead in the eye so you could see his vision was as clear as his mind. He couldn't have you thinking he would be proposing to you drunk.

"O-okay," you said slowly, giving him a confused smile before taking his hand. "We should do cake and gifts in case people want to take off soon."

Joel nodded, following as you led him through the crowd to the deck, his free hand raking anxiously through his hair as he tried to remember his speech.

He stood by your side as you gathered everybody around the cake you made, smiling when Sarah had to shout to get everyone's attention while you lit the candles and he tried not to bring attention to the fact his hands were shaking and his breath was growing shallow.

You clapped your hands together loudly, then sang out the first note to Happy Birthday, his friends and family following suit and holding up their phones, snapping pictures and videos when he tugged you into one side, Sarah into the other and kissed the top of your heads. He made eye contact with Tommy and his brother gave him a subtle nod, holding up his phone and making sure he had the clearest angle for when he blew out his candles.

Fuck, he was really going to do this.

When the song ended, he took a deep breath, looking at you once before blowing out the candles. He vaguely heard everyone clapping and cheering, their voices stirring up old conversations again, but he could hardly process any of it through his nerves.

"Here, why don't you let me do that," Maria said slyly, taking the knife from your hand before you could begin to cut the cake. You quirked an eyebrow at her but gave her the knife anyway.

"What'd you wish for, Dad?" Sarah asked loudly, commanding most of the guests' attention. She was giving him a playful smirk, eyes darting back and forth between you while she rocked excitedly on her heels.

It was around that point when you sensed something was going on. The entire moment felt like it was moving in slow motion but in reality it had probably only been a handful of seconds. You looked over at your family, huddled together and smiling and you narrowed your eyes at Cassie, trying to read her mind to no avail.

With your head still turned, you heard a handful of soft gasps and squeaks. Your gaze was still locked on Cassie and in a split second, you saw her eyes drop to somewhere behind you. Her face crumpled and her hand flew up to cover her mouth and you slowly tilted your head to the side. She was happy. Those were happy tears.

Your eyes widened when everyone fell eerily silent and you felt more than saw their eyes on you. Your heart began to beat faster, mind racing and adrenaline shooting through your body when you finally twisted back around.

"Oh, my god!" you exclaimed, voice already breaking when you made eye contact with Joel, who had dropped to one knee while holding a diamond ring with shaky fingers. You slapped both palms over your mouth and you squeezed your eyes shut but the tears still leaked out and trickled down your cheeks. It was actually happening.

Then, you opened your eyes. His mouth was curved into a nervous smile and his eyes were glassy as he gazed up at you from the wood floor of the deck. The blood in your veins was moving so goddamn fast you could hear it rushing in your ears, so you took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. You wanted to make sure you remembered every single second and every single word.

"Hey, baby," he said. His tone was so soft, you almost forgot anyone else was around. It felt like, in that moment, it was just the two of you. You laughed lightly through your tears, unable to keep the smile from your face, so certain it would never, ever fade. He reached up to you with his free hand and you flicked away a couple tears before tucking your hand inside his.

"When we first met," he began, voice trembling a bit, "I know we said we would keep things casual, but, uh... I lied."

A ripple of laughter swept through the crowd and you grinned, unwilling to look away from him.

"I knew the night of our first date we'd end up right here, one way or another. You know why?"

You shook your head, tears clouding your vision, so you blinked them away.

"'Cause I never felt the way I felt that night with anyone else," he told you, his lower lip quivering as his smile slowly began to slip. "It was like... my heart knew 'fore my head I couldn't ever live without you."

"Me, too," you wept. His eyes sparkled and you saw his throat bob before he took a steadying breath.

"You changed my life. You changed my daughter's life, and for that-" he cut himself off, throat closing up and voice growing thick as he took a moment to collect himself. But when you saw two tears trickle down his cheeks, disappearing into his beard, you fell to your knees with him and cupped his face. "I can't thank you enough, baby," he finally whispered. You dragged your thumbs over his damp cheeks, tears streaming down your own face, too, but you didn't care. Joel pressed his forehead against yours for a moment, just a quick second to ground himself before inhaling sharply and leaning back. He held the diamond ring between you, eyes flickering to it briefly, then swallowed nervously before saying your full name, followed by, "Will you marry me?"

You nodded so fast you thought your neck would snap.

"Yes!" you cried out, throwing your arms around him and burying your face into his shoulder. His muscles sagged with relief right before his arms circled you, tugging you closer. Everyone around you was laughing and cheering so you couldn't hear Joel, but you could feel the way his shoulders moved and his chest heaved. Then he shifted so his mouth was next to your ear and you heard his laughter mixed with choked sobs, mimicking your own.

"I love you," you sobbed before finding his lips. "I love you so much," you said while repeatedly planting kisses all over his face. He chuckled and tilted his head back so he could give you one more searing kiss before sitting back on his heels and holding out his hand. You swiped your tears away with the back of your hand, staring at him until it dawned on you what he wanted.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, shakily presenting your left hand to him. He slid the ring on with ease and hummed his approval under his breath when you flicked your wrist around, catching the diamond in the light.

"I love it," you breathed, locking eyes with him. He had the biggest smile on his face, the kind that made the wrinkles next to his eyes scrunch up in the most adorable way. You were about to say more when Sarah tackled him out of nowhere right as your sister hugged you from behind and practically screeched in your ear.

The rest of the party was a blur after that.

The men ended up somehow finding cigars and surrounding themselves with clouds of thick smoke in the backyard while encouraging Joel to take a couple shots of tequila with them.

"Hey, go easy on him! He's old now and he's gotta celebrate later," Tommy joked. Joel whipped around, fucking praying Sarah or your father weren't around to hear that, then shoved his brother in the shoulder, muttering watch it under his breath.

Meanwhile, your family had you cornered in the living room. Your mom had been on the verge of tears since Joel proposed, your sister had passed Anna off onto your brother-in-law so she could admire your ring while already lecturing you on color schemes, band or DJ, and suggesting a few banquet halls in the vicinity that were beautiful but book up fast.

"I've been engaged for an hour, Cas! Give me a break!" you laughed before turning to your dad. "Did you know? Earlier when you were-"

"Nope!" he immediately said, his face all red from the excitement. "Well, I didn't know he was gonna do it tonight but... I knew. Asked my permission the night little Annie was born."

April? Joel had been thinking about proposing to you since April? The love you had for that man was insurmountable.

"Excuse us!" Sarah yelled out, racing through the living room with two of her friends, their phones clutched in their hands and giggling as they headed for the door.

"Uh, where are you going?" you asked when you saw her put on shoes.

She glanced up at you and grinned.

"The school football team's playing a home game, we were gonna try to catch the last quarter so Katy could give Paulie heart eyes from the bleachers," Sarah laughed when Katy shoved her shoulder, her face turning pink.

"Does your dad know?"

"Listen to Buck, already sounding like a stepmom," Cassie whispered to your parents.

"Yeah, he said it was cool. I'll be home by midnight," she replied, then right when she turned towards the door she stopped, swiveling back around and rushing over to you. She threw her arms around your shoulders, squeezing you tight.

"I love you, Bucky."

You kissed the top of her messy curls with a smile before she let you go.

"Love you, too. Be safe."

After Sarah left, a dam broke and other guests began to gather their things to leave, finding each of you to thank you for the party and congratulate you one more time until all that remained were Tommy and Maria helping Joel clean up the yard while you practically pushed your family out the door, insisting they didn't need to help and that Anna needed to get to bed.

When the house was finally silent, you tiredly strolled into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, looking around at the empty cups, plates, half filled bottles of beer and uncovered trays of food. A Happy Birthday banner hung loosely from above your head where someone had drunkenly scrawled congrats! in black sharpie underneath. Crumpled bags of potato chips and spilled drinks littered your counters, but you were happy. You were so stupidly, unbelievably happy that no amount of cleaning up could ever take that away from you.

And surprisingly, it didn't take very long. Maybe it was due to your unwavering good mood every time you tied up a garbage bag or ripped off a piece of foil and saw your beautiful engagement ring sparkling on your hand, but regardless of the reason, you had gotten the kitchen into decent enough shape by ten thirty, just as the sliding door opened.

"Alright. Yard's as good as we're gonna get it," Tommy yawned when he stepped inside, followed closely by Joel and Maria.

"Thank you both so much," you said, giving them each tight hugs before finding your spot next to Joel. He tucked you under his arm and glanced around the kitchen.

"You did all this by yourself?"

"It went fast," you assured him.

He looked down at you and shook his head in disbelief. "Everythin' was perfect, sweetheart," he said. "Don't know what I did to deserve you."

Tommy shrugged on his leather jacket while Maria draped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. "Alright, lovebirds. We're gonna hit it. Congrats again and happy birthday, big brother," he said before tugging Joel into a bear hug while Maria gave you another kiss on your cheek. The pair of you walked them to the door, laughing about how drunk one of their buddies from work got and taking bets on whether he would be calling in on Monday. Then they jogged down the porch and the door finally swung shut, leaving the two of you alone for the first time since that morning.

You immediately spun around and snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

"I love you," you murmured, and he grinned before slipping his tongue past your lips. Your squeal was muffled when he lifted you off the ground and headed for the stairs. You slapped his shoulders, giggling and squirming until he put you down.

"You'll kill us both if you try to carry me up there," you told him breathlessly. He gazed down at you, dark eyes sparkling and smile stretched so wide, it almost hurt.

"See? That's why I'm marryin' you. You're so damn smart, baby."

You laughed and playfully pushed him away, then carefully walked backwards up a couple steps. "And why am I marrying you?" you teased, lifting an eyebrow.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, following after you with a devious smirk and a predatory look in his eye.

"Get to bed and I'll show you."

Joel couldn't imagine what his life would be like without you. You've blended into their lives so perfectly, it felt like you were always there. He was obsessed with you and he didn't even try to deny it if anyone caught him staring at you from across the room. The way you toss your head back when you laugh, the way your nose scrunches up when you take a sip of something bubbly, the sleepy way you snuggle into him early in the morning when his alarm goes off. All of it. Every single thing.

And, sure, the way his name sounds falling from your lips when he buries himself deep inside you is pretty incredible, too.

"Thought you'd gotten your fill this morning," you whispered in his ear, fingers combing through the curls on the back of his head, pressing him closer so your mouth could drag along his cheek.

"Never," he whispered back, and at the same time plunged into you once again. A deep groan rumbled in his chest, utterly consumed by the way your cunt stretched and pulsed around him, something that's happened countless times by now but never lost its allure.

"You... you feel so good," you moaned, head limply falling back into the sheets as his hips steadily rocked into you, building you up just to tear you back down. You gazed up at him, swollen lips parted, eyes half open, mesmerized by the fact he was going to be your husband. This beautiful man who looked at you like you held the meaning of life in your hands. Who loved you, cared for you, stood by your side through laughter and tears. Who taught you what it meant to be truly loved after your heart was shattered.

This was the man who was meant just for you, you never felt more sure about anything in your life.

"I love you," you whimpered when his hips began to grind into you, giving your clit that extra stimulation you needed to feel your orgasm swell low in your belly, your jaw dropping and your breath quickening with each forceful thrust.

"Love you," he replied, his own focus growing hazy. He nipped at your jaw, kissed your throat, licked into your mouth, needing to taste and feel you everywhere. It was never enough. "Y'so beautiful, so perfect..." he mumbled in between sloppy kisses and sharp gasps. "Y'make make me so happy. I'll never stop lovin' you... shit," he groaned, eyes squeezing shut. You were close. He could tell by the way you trembled underneath him and clenched tightly around his cock.

He let his head fall to your shoulder, driving into you over and over until your legs shook and your nails dug into his back and you cried out his name. His mouth covered yours instantly, swallowing down your moans and whimpers, headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall until his own body jolted forward, stilling and pumping you full of his seed while he whispered brokenly against your lips how much he loved you.

"Fuck," he breathed, pressing his sticky forehead against yours, rolling it back and forth as you each fought for air. You occasionally pecked little kisses at his lips but you were too tired to do much else. You felt like you were melting into the bed, every single muscle loose and relaxed, eyelids heavy and sliding closed.

"I wear you out, baby?" Joel teased when he slipped out of you with a soft grunt. You nodded, breathing in deep when the mattress shifted and the heat from his body disappeared. A moment later you felt him gently spread your still shaky legs to wipe a wet washcloth between your thighs, giving your stomach a quick kiss before heading back to the bathroom. You vaguely heard the sink running, then the familiar sound of him brushing his teeth before the light switch flicked off and he joined you back in bed.

"I'll get up in a minute," you mumbled, turning to bury your face against his bare chest, left hand snaking around his waist, the cool metal of your ring pressing against his skin. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

"Did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?" you asked with a yawn. He smiled and closed his eyes, blindly bringing your left hand up to his lips.

"Sure did."

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[tteotlma]

Missed Every Inch

Older Bf!Logan x Reader (3.2kw)

a/n: got this idea based off this post ^ bc i’ve been thinking a lot abt old man logan lately.. so enjoy 3k words of pure smut.

tw: 18+ MDNI, explicit sexual content, overstimulation, rough sex, light degradation/teasing, power dynamics, breeding, kink/multiple orgasms, slightly aggressive behavior (e.g. tearing clothing), cockwarming, heavy on missionary, p in v, pw/op

—

Alternatively, older bf!logan doing the whole “fuck, I missed you” thing when he slides inside you after not being able to for a whole two weeks.

How he ever let that happen he doesn’t know, schedules became hectic, nights became short, and fourteen days later he’s as riled up as a bull seeing red — well not exactly but either way Logan is not about to let this continue any longer.

Sure the both of you had small moments here and there, like your shared morning showers, warm embraces and passionate kisses at the door before either of you left for the day, video calls during lunches that usually ended with Logan teasing you about giving him something to keep him going and you complying by quickly flashing the camera. Giggling shyly when Logan would let out a whistle. And all would be great until you hang up, or leave his sight and he remembers how long it’s been since he’s really felt your true warmth. God the more he thinks about it, the more he’s gonna blow his load right in his plaid pajama pants.

He paces back and forth shirtless in your shared bedroom. He’s been home alone for three hours now, and you messaged him thirty minutes ago saying you were on your way home meaning you should be walking through the front door any second.

He has one hand stroking his chin and the other hand low on his hip trying to decide if he should be nonchalant or just say to hell with it and jump you as soon as you walk in the door.

He hears the door to your shared apartment open, and he jumps out of his skin. He’s acting so out of character but — he’s really desperate. He says to hell with it and he swings open the bedroom door only to run right into you.

“Hi,” You look up at him, with a small smile.

Logan looks at you for a brief moment before he breaks and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in and using the other hand to cradle the back of your head. He pulls you in for a heated kiss, the kind that ignites the heat in your chest that slowly spreads to the tips of your fingers.

You become pliant in his arms, letting your weight and balance rely solely on Logan as he continues to move his lips against yours. He pulls away for a second allowing you a chance to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer.

A long moan leaves your lips as he slowly drags his tongue along the inside of your mouth. He gives your tongue a slow and gentle suck before he pulls away.

“Hey baby,” He says, a smug look on his face. He wraps both arms around your waist, hands resting on the swell of your ass as he starts to walk the both of you back into the bedroom.

”What’s gotten into you?” You ask, as he begins to nose at your temple.

“I’m just glad you’re home now.” He says trailing kisses from your temple to your neck. Your hand snakes from around the back of his neck, and slowly trails down before stopping on his bare chest. Your palm catches the faint beating of Logan’s heart rapid, and pulsing.

“Did I make you wait long?” You ask, tilting your head back, a soft sigh leaves your lips as he places tender kisses along the sensitive parts of your neck.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he grabs your hand on his chest, and drags it further down, the heat radiating off his body practically scolding your hand. He brings your hand down his front all the way down to the bulge in his pants.

“You tell me.” He teases, pulling back to look down at you. With one hand still around his neck, keeping him close you take his dick in the other and fondle the man through the thin fabric of his pants.

“Aw,” You coo, “Did I make the poor baby wait too long.” You teased, the motions of your hand unrelenting. A shuddering breath leaves your boyfriend’s lips as his hips buck as much as he tries to hold back.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Logan hooks his hands below the curve of your ass and quickly lifts you off your feet. He swiftly spins you around and tosses you on the bed. “None of that tonight.” He says, grabbing your ankle and yanking you close as he climbs on the bed fitting himself between your thighs.

You let out a loud sigh as his heavy hands clench the clothed flesh of your thighs. His hands trail up to the belt loops of your jeans and he gives them a tug.

“Strip,” He orders. His hand sliding down the front of your legs, hiking your thighs on his hips as he goes to untie the drawstring around his waist. The pants slide down even further, exposing his adonis belt.

You swallow louder than you intended , and he chuckles lowly. You rid your upper half of any thing that could possibly stop the feel of your lover's calloused hands on your body. Logan rips the front of your pants open, tearing the seam and ripping the button off and across to who knows where.

“Oh, babe I really liked those.” You moan out softly, under any normal circumstance you would’ve been upset, but as Logan licks up your stomach as he’s pulling your pants down you figure the pants can come third. You lift your hips and yank the fabric off as Logan finally frees his poor aching cock from the prison that is his pajamas.

He sucks in a deep breath through clenched teeth, and whether it was from pain or pleasure the look on his face was enough to make you cream right then and there. You began to squirm in anticipation, trying to press your thighs together but Logan puts heavy hands on your knees and pries them further apart.

You let him, face flushed and chest panting.

”That’s it babydoll, show me that pretty pussy, hmm?” He teases you, and your face burns bright with embarrassment. You grab his arm as he pulls you flush against his bare skin. His cock slides against your slick folds, and a whine escapes both your lips.

“Fuck.” He grits out as he gyrates his hips, watching in awe as your juices coat his pulsing dick. Your fingers squeeze tighter around his arm.

“Logan.” You breathe out, your hips rising to get more friction.

“Hold on baby, you gotta give me a minute.” He’s out of breath as his hands roam all over the meat of your legs. He hikes your left ankle over his right shoulder and he pulls away.

The both of you breathless, you prop yourself on your elbows and watch as Logan guides the tip of his cock at your entrance. He pauses, leans back on his haunches and looks down at you.

“What are you waiting for, big guy?” You lean in and grab his dick, giving it a few strokes.

“It’s been two weeks and I am not a minute man.” He huffs out, watching the movements of your hand.

”You never have been.” You whisper, guiding the tip inside. Logan shudders as he leans over your body once again. His arms caging you in as his chest heaves. Your ankle slides off his shoulder, as he slowly sinks his dick further into your tight hole.

“Oh yes,” You hum, feeling absolutely stretched. Reaching out to grab Logan’s face you bring him in for a sloppy kiss.

“That’s it baby, give it to me just like that.” You purred, fingers cradling his head, foreheads pressed together, breaths mixing as Logan pulled back slowly, snapping his hips forward.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He moans, and you swallow his words.

Logan's thrusts start slow, deliberate, dragging out each movement as if savoring the feel of you. Every inch of him feels like it’s filling you up completely, and you can’t help the needy whine that escapes your lips. He grunts softly in response, his breath hot against your cheek.

"Missed this too," you whisper between pants, your body rising to meet his rhythm. Each snap of his hips has you keening, your nails digging into his back, urging him for more. Logan’s pace starts to quicken, his control slipping as the tight heat of your body pulls him in deeper.

"Shit... you're so perfect," he groans, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His mouth trails along your neck, lips brushing over your skin, leaving wet kisses as his hands tighten their grip on your waist, anchoring you to him.

Your thighs tremble around him, your body arching in response as your hands move to grip the sheets. You’re close, so close, the coil in your belly tightening with every deep thrust.

"Logan... please, don't stop," you beg, your voice breathless and needy.

Logan’s breath hitches as you tighten around him, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. He’s right on the edge, but instead of pulling out, he leans over you, his lips brushing your ear. His hand grips your thigh, keeping you locked in place as he pushes back in, slowly, torturously deep.

You whimper, feeling him stretch you all over again, and he moans in response, the sound almost desperate. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, the head of his cock dragging against that sweet spot that makes you see stars. The rhythm is slow but deliberate, his hips grinding into you with an intensity that has your body arching into him. Each time he pulls back, it’s only to push deeper than before, making you gasp and claw at his back.

"Logan... fuck," you moan, overwhelmed by the feeling of him filling you completely. He’s breathing hard against your neck, his body trembling with the effort to stay in control. But the way his cock moves inside you—deliberate, steady, dragging out the pleasure—makes it clear he’s savoring every second.

His need is palpable now, his body pressing against yours as if he can’t get close enough. "I’ve missed this... missed you so much," he mumbles, his voice hoarse as he picks up the pace just slightly. The sound of your skin meeting fills the room, the slick heat of your bodies moving in sync, every thrust hitting deeper, making you writhe beneath him.

You feel the tension in him, the way his muscles strain as he fights to hold back. But then his control starts to slip, his pace quickening, each thrust harder and faster, his hips snapping into you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. The coil in your belly tightens again, the pleasure building higher and higher, and you know he can feel it too.

"Fuck, you’re so tight," he groans, burying his face in your neck as his hips drive into you harder. His voice cracks with raw need, his movements becoming frantic. He’s so close, teetering on the edge, but instead of letting go, he keeps pushing you both further, refusing to pull out. "I’m not done with you yet," he gasps, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you in place as he thrusts deeper, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

Your body clenches around him, and you cry out, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Logan feels it, groaning as your walls flutter around him, and you think he’s going to come too, but he doesn’t. Instead, he slows just enough to keep himself in control, his hips rocking into you in a rhythm so slow and precise it makes your head spin. He pulls out slightly before pushing back in, bottoming out with every thrust, the sensation keeping you on the edge.

"God, I love you," he mumbles, his voice breaking as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. His lips brush against your cheek, your temple, as he keeps up that slow, torturous pace. "I’m so obsessed with you... I need you, baby, I need this," he groans, his voice thick with emotion, as if the feeling of being inside you is overwhelming him.

You can feel him trembling, hear the soft, needy sounds he makes as he moves inside you, and it sends another wave of pleasure through your body. Your hands find his hair, tugging gently as you pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a sloppy, desperate kiss. "I’m here... I’m yours," you whisper against his lips, your body still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

Logan’s thrusts slow even further, until he’s barely pulling out, just rocking into you gently. But every time his cock drags against that sweet spot inside, it sends a jolt of pleasure through you, leaving you trembling. It’s softer now, more intimate, but still just as intense. Your body is so sensitive, every touch, every movement feels like too much and not enough all at once.

His moans turn softer, more broken, and you can feel his control slipping as he edges closer to release. His breath is hot against your ear, his voice hoarse as he whispers, "I can’t stop... you feel so fucking good."

Logan feels you tighten around him with what he thinks is another orgasm, his thrusts becoming purposeful, and he groans deeply, his body shaking as his release crashes into him. His cock throbs inside you, and you feel the warm flood of him filling you up, but just as you expect him to pull out, he surprises you.

“Wait, baby… not yet,” he rasps, his voice rough with need. Before you can respond, his hips push forward again, grinding deep, his cock still hard inside you. The overstimulation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you let out a sob, clutching meekly at him as he starts moving again, slow but firm. The sensation is overwhelming, but Logan’s grip on your hips tightens as if he can’t let go.

You cry, tears forming in your eyes, your body still trembling from your orgasm, but Logan keeps going, his breath ragged and desperate.

“Fuck, I need more,” he mumbles against your skin, his lips brushing over your neck as he starts to thrust again. His movements are a little rough, his need palpable, and you can feel him building up again, his body already close to another release.

He thrusts faster now, deeper, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, and you can’t help the way your body reacts.

“Oh, Logan~” you cry out, overwhelmed by the feeling of him filling you over and over, the slick sound of your bodies meeting echoing in the room.

He’s panting now, his breath hot against your skin, and you feel him tense up again. His hips slam into you one last time, and he groans deeply, spilling into you for the second time. But even then, he doesn’t stop.

“Oh god… not yet,” he whispers, almost like a plea, his cock twitching inside you as he keeps rocking his hips. His pace slows but doesn’t stop, the overstimulation almost too much to bear, but at the same time, it feels so damn good. His thrusts become shorter, his cock pulling out just enough before pushing back in, keeping him buried deep inside you.

Your body is on fire, sensitive and trembling as Logan chases yet another orgasm. His voice is low, needy, as he presses his forehead to yours, groaning softly.

“I can’t stop… I need to come again… fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbles, almost like he’s talking to himself, completely lost in the sensation of being inside you.

Your legs shake as he thrusts slowly, hitting deep inside you with every roll of his hips. You’re not sure how much more you can take, but the pleasure is overwhelming, and soon, the coil tightens in your belly again. “Logan, I’m gonna—” you cry out, your body tensing as another orgasm rips through you, this one so intense it leaves you seeing stars.

Logan moans with you, his hips snapping forward one last time as he comes again, filling you up even more. His body shakes, his breath heavy as he holds himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your waist tightly like he never wants to let go. You both stay there, trembling and panting, the room filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing.

Even after three orgasms, Logan’s still inside you, his cock softening but not pulling out. He’s so needy, so desperate to stay connected to you. His lips brush against your ear, his voice soft and broken. “I’m obsessed with you,” he whispers, his hips still moving just enough to keep him inside you.

He leans down to lazily kiss you, lips enveloping his. You stroke his hair, running your fingers through the damp strands as you hold him close, your body finally starting to relax. Logan’s breaths begin to even out, his thrusts slowing to a stop, but he stays buried inside, his body pressing down on yours in a protective, possessive way. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in tighter as he rests his forehead against your shoulder, completely spent.

“Still with me?” he mutters, his voice low and gruff in your ear, the heat of his breath sending a shiver through you.

“Barely,” you tease, your fingers still idly combing through his hair as you try to catch your breath.

Logan huffs a small laugh, pulling back just enough to look down at you. There’s a softness in his gaze, a mix of exhaustion and something deeper. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not ready to move yet.”

You smile, the weight of his body grounding you. “Not like I’m complaining.”

He dips down to kiss you again, slower this time, a quiet hum escaping his lips as he pulls you closer. His grip tightens, keeping you pressed together, like he’s savoring every last second of this. He grabs the extra duvet from under the pillows and wraps the blanket around your frames.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me,” he murmurs against your lips, but there’s no urgency in his voice. He’s just as close to passing out as you are.

“I won’t,” you whisper, though your body feels heavy, every muscle finally unwinding.

Eventually, you both roll over, Logan keeping you snug against him, still inside you as he wraps his arms around your waist. The room grows quieter, the sound of your breaths mingling as your heartbeats slow.

“Stay here,” he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper now, almost lost in the haze of sleep. His head rests against your chest, his body relaxing completely.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reply softly, pressing a kiss to his temple, your hand resting on his back. You can feel the last bit of tension leaving his body as he lets out a deep sigh.

Within moments, you both start to drift off, the warmth of his body against yours pulling you deeper into sleep, completely spent but content.

—

a/n: did i make logan too needy?

[paddockletters]

shattered hearts | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you break free from a toxic relationship, embarking on an exhilarating journey of self-discovery

warning: emotional abuse, infidelity, toxic relationship, angst

author's note:this was hard, so hard omg... as I always say, english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

I met Lando when we were barely out of high school. Back then, he was just a kid with dreams and a mischievous smile that made you feel like you were the only one in the world that mattered. For a while, I believed that was true. But as the years went by, I learned that Lando's smile wasn’t mine alone—it was shared with others, stolen moments behind my back. And somehow, I was always the one left picking up the pieces.

Our relationship was a whirlwind, the couple everyone thought would either crash or last forever. We did crash—over and over again. But somehow, Lando always found a way to convince me to come back.

“I’m sorry,” he’d say, voice low and pleading after one of his inevitable affairs. “But you know you’re my number one, right? None of them matter like you do.”

He’d wrap his arms around me, pull me close, and somehow, I’d believe him. I had to because after eight years of being with him, I didn’t know who I was without him.

The first time he cheated, I was devastated. It was in his early F1 days, just as his fame started to sink in. He swore it was a one-time thing that it didn’t mean anything. And like a fool, I believed him. But it didn’t stop. It never stopped. There was always another girl, another excuse, another lie wrapped up in the promise that I was still the "main one."

One particular night, I remember the argument that nearly broke us for good. Lando had been out late, and I found out through a mutual friend that he had been seen with another girl. Again. When he came home, reeking of alcohol and guilt, I confronted him.

“You said you were going to change, Lando!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face. “You promised me, over and over again, but nothing ever changes!”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You always come back. You always forgive me,” he shot back, arms crossed, his face a mask of irritation.

His words stung like a slap to the face. I wanted to scream, to leave right then and there. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because a part of me still loved him, or maybe it was the idea of him—the boy I met before the fame, before the lies.

As the years rolled on, our friends saw the cracks. One night during a get-together at a bar, I tried to put on a brave face. I thought maybe if I acted normal, I could convince myself everything was fine. But when Jess pulled me aside, her expression serious, I knew I couldn’t hide anymore.

“Why do you keep letting him treat you like this?” she asked, frustration evident in her voice. “You deserve so much better, and he’s just going to keep doing this until you realize it.”

“Maybe he’ll change. I can’t just throw away eight years,” I replied defensively. “We have a history.”

“You mean a history of him cheating on you? You have to stop putting up with this, or you’re going to lose yourself,” she insisted, shaking her head.

I didn’t have an answer for her, not really. I just wanted to believe that things would get better. That Lando would see how much I cared and finally choose me over everyone else.

Our mutual friends began to pick sides. Some supported me, while others were loyal to Lando. It was suffocating, a constant tug-of-war that made everything feel so much worse. I felt more isolated than ever, even when surrounded by people.

Then there was the jealousy. Lando was incredibly possessive, especially with his fellow drivers. During one race weekend, I was talking to Charles, who had just finished his session. Lando walked in, and his eyes darkened.

“Why are you always chatting up the other drivers?” he snapped, pulling me aside as Charles walked away, giving us a questioning look.

“Because they’re my friends, Lando! Just because you’re in F1 doesn’t mean I can’t talk to anyone else. You’re not my warden,” I shot back, feeling the anger rise in my chest.

“Don’t act like I’m overreacting. You know how it looks,” he hissed, jaw clenched, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

I knew he was being unreasonable, but I was too exhausted to fight back. Our friends watched the tension build, hoping to intervene. I overheard Max once whisper to Lando.

“You need to chill, mate. You’re pushing her away.”

But Lando always had an excuse for everything, often deflecting blame onto me.

“You just don’t understand how this world works!” he’d shout, leaving me feeling small and defeated.

The cycle continued, and I found myself in the same painful arguments over and over. One night, after he came home late from a party, I had finally reached my breaking point.

“Do you even care about how I feel?” I shouted, my voice echoing through our apartment. “You’re always out with other girls! How am I supposed to trust you?”

“I told you, you’re the main one! None of them matter!” he retorted, but his words felt hollow to me.

We spent that night in silence, and I knew I had to make a decision. I just didn’t know how to let go.

The more time passed, the more I began to distance myself from Lando. Therapy helped. I began to see the truth behind his words and actions. The way he manipulated me, made me feel guilty for his mistakes. The way he made it seem like I was the one at fault for staying, like I was to blame for the pain he caused me.

During one therapy session, I shared my frustrations.

“I don’t know why I keep coming back to him. He’s hurt me so many times, and I just can’t let go.”

The therapist asked me one simple question: “Do you love him, or are you just scared of being without him?”

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t know the answer.

One evening after another brutal fight, I finally left. For good this time. I packed my bags while he watched, silent for once. Maybe he thought I’d come back, just like I always did. But this time was different. I walked out the door, leaving behind eight years of memories, both good and bad.

The nights were long and lonely, and I often found myself thinking about the happy moments we had. One flashback struck me particularly hard: it was the first time he had taken me to the paddock during a race weekend, and we laughed like kids as he showed me around.

“Can you believe this is my life now?” he had said, beaming with pride. “I never would have thought I’d be racing in F1.”

“I always knew you could do it,” I replied, squeezing his hand.

But now, those memories felt tainted, and I needed to focus on myself. It wasn’t easy. There were nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering if I had made the right decision. But with time, and with the help of my therapist, I started to heal. I began to see that I deserved better, that I deserved someone who would love me the way I had always wanted Lando to.

One evening, after finally leaving Lando for good, I found myself at a racing event with friends. It was a chance to distract myself from the whirlwind of emotions I was navigating. As I wandered through the paddock, I was drawn to the sound of laughter.

“Are you lost, or just overwhelmed by all this?” a smooth voice asked. I turned to see Pato O'Ward, the charming IndyCar driver, grinning at me. His eyes sparkled with warmth, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a flicker of something hopeful.

“I guess a little bit of both,” I replied, smiling back.

“Come on, I’ll show you around,” he offered, his energy contagious. As we walked through the paddock, he shared stories about his racing experiences and the thrill of competing. It felt so refreshing to be around someone who was passionate and genuine, without the weight of expectations or drama.

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself spending more time with Pato. He was everything I had needed—funny, respectful, and utterly devoted. He listened to me, understood my past, and never once made me feel like I was in a competition for his attention.

One night, after a thrilling race, he took me to a quiet spot overlooking the track. “You know,” he said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about how important it is to find someone who truly sees you. I see you, and I want to be that person.”

His words resonated deep within me, filling the void Lando had left. In that moment, I knew I had found something special with Pato, something I had longed for but never thought I could have.

Meanwhile, Lando had his own set of problems. He was still juggling relationships, using his charm to keep people around while juggling jealousy over his fellow drivers. I heard from our mutual friends that he was still stuck in the same toxic patterns, always in and out of relationships, always claiming that I was the one who got away.

I remember a race weekend when Charles and Lando got into an argument. I was watching from the sidelines with Pato when Charles approached me, concern etched on his face.

“Are you okay? I know things with Lando have been… complicated,” he said, his gaze shifting to Lando, who was across the paddock, still fuming.

“I’m fine, really. I’ve moved on,” I assured him, but I could see the doubt in his eyes.

Later that evening, I got a message from Lando, who had obviously overheard the chatter.

“I know you’re happy with him, but you’re still mine. You always come back to me, remember?”

It took everything in me not to respond. I had a new life now, a new partner who respected me and didn’t cheat. Lando’s words were just echoes of the past.

Fast forward to our wedding day. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my veil, my heart racing with excitement. Pato had become my rock, my partner in every sense of the word. I knew this was the right choice, and my heart was finally at peace.

Then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Lando.

“I heard you’re getting married. Just wanted to say, I hope you’re happy. But I still think about you. We could’ve had it all, you know.”

I stared at the message, my heart pounding. For a moment, I considered replying. But then I remembered all the sleepless nights, the tears, the heartbreak, and all the promises he had broken.

“Too late,” I typed back, hitting send before I could second-guess myself.

As I walked down the aisle, Pato’s face lit up with joy, and I couldn’t help but smile back. When he took my hands in his, I felt a sense of completeness I hadn’t known in years.

The ceremony was beautiful, I felt a sense of completeness I hadn’t felt in years. When Pato took my hands in his, I knew I was finally moving forward.

As we exchanged vows, Lando’s presence lingered in the back of my mind, but I let it go.

“I promise to love you through every challenge and to celebrate every victory,” he said, his eyes shining with sincerity.

“I promise to choose you every day for the rest of my life,” I replied, my voice steady and full of conviction.

We sealed our vows with a kiss, and I felt liberated. Lando was no longer my story; I was the author of my own life now, and it was a beautiful beginning with Pato. With him by my side, I was ready to embrace the future we would build together, thriving in a relationship based on trust, respect, and love.

As time passed, I learned to appreciate the small moments—the laughter, the late-night talks, the shared dreams of a future together. Pato supported my passions and encouraged me to pursue my own ambitions, something I had never fully experienced before.

One day, I received a message from Max: “Lando’s been a mess since your wedding. He didn’t handle it well.”

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. He had always taken me for granted, and now, he was the one left behind.

I hoped Lando would find peace eventually, but I also knew I couldn’t go back to the pain of our past. Pato was everything I needed, and I was determined to focus on our life together.

As our first anniversary approached, Pato planned a surprise getaway. “I want to celebrate us, everything we’ve built,” he said, a bright smile on his face.

We traveled to a beautiful beach destination, where we spent our days relaxing, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company. One night, under a sky full of stars, Pato took my hand and said, “You’ve changed my life for the better. I want to keep building this amazing life with you.”

I couldn’t hold back my tears. “You’ve shown me what real love looks like, Pato. I’m so grateful for you.”

His expression softened as he leaned in, kissing me gently.

Then, one day, I got a call from Lando.

“Can we talk?” he asked, voice shaky.

“What do you want, Lando?” I replied, my heart racing.

“I just need to explain… things didn’t go as planned after you left. I’ve made mistakes, and I want you back.”

I paused, memories flooding back. “You had your chance, Lando. I can’t keep going back to the past. I’m happy now. I’ve moved on.”

“But I still love you!” he pleaded. “You were always my main one!”

His words echoed painfully in my mind, but I stood my ground. “You had your chance to prove that. You made your choice.”

The phone call ended, and I sighed with relief. I looked at Pato, who was sitting beside me, and smiled. I had made the right choice.

I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Lando was no longer a part of my narrative. My life was filled with the warmth and love Pato brought into it, and I was excited for the future we would continue to create together.

With Pato, I had learned to love again, not just him, but also myself. And that made all the difference.

Lando’s chapter had closed, and I was finally ready to start anew, with someone who truly valued me, not just as the ‘main one,’ but as the woman I had become.

[shitsndgiggs]

The reader and kenan have a daughter whos 2 and she tells them she wants a sister to play dolls with kenan tells her “me and mommy will see what we can do” and he gets all smirky to you whispering dirty things in ur ear .

SISTER REQUEST - KENAN YILDIZ

Your daughter wants a sister

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

It was a peaceful Saturday morning, the kind of morning where everything seemed to slow down. Kenan, our two-year-old daughter, Ayla, and I were lounging in the living room.

Ayla was sitting on the floor, surrounded by her favorite dolls, chattering away in her sweet little voice as she played with them.

Kenan was scrolling through his phone, occasionally looking up to watch Ayla or share a soft smile with me.

It was one of those moments where everything felt right, and the happiness in the room was palpable.

Out of nowhere, Ayla looked up from her dolls, her big eyes filled with curiosity. “Mommy?” she asked, holding up her favorite doll. “I want a sister.”

Kenan and I froze for a second, exchanging surprised glances before both of us burst into laughter. "A sister?" I asked, smiling down at her. "Where did you get that idea, sweetie?

She nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing. “Yeah! A sister to play dolls with me. We can have tea parties!”

I tried to keep my composure, but the innocence in her request made me want to scoop her up and smother her with kisses.

Kenan, on the other hand, had a different reaction. He raised an eyebrow and smirked, clearly trying to hide the mischievous grin spreading across his face.

He leaned back on the couch, arms behind his head as he looked at me with that signature look of his—playful and a little too confident. "Well, Ayla," he said, his voice dripping with amusement, "me and mommy will see what we can do."

I shot him a look, narrowing my eyes, but Ayla didn’t pick up on the underlying tone in his voice. She just giggled and continued playing with her dolls, happy with Kenan’s response.

But Kenan wasn’t done. Oh, no. He slid closer to me on the couch, leaning in so Ayla couldn’t hear, his lips brushing against my ear. “Maybe we should get started on that sister tonight,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. "You know... after she goes to bed."

I rolled my eyes, fighting the blush creeping up my cheeks. "Kenan," I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady, but he didn’t back down.

His hand moved to my thigh, squeezing gently as he leaned in even closer, his lips just grazing the skin beneath my ear. “Just think about it, babe,” he murmured, his tone taking on that deeper, huskier quality that always made my stomach do flips. “You, me... making another baby...”

I swatted his hand away playfully, glancing over at Ayla, who was still fully immersed in her tea party, oblivious to the conversation happening above her head. “Kenan, stop,” I whispered, but the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me.

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest, clearly enjoying how flustered I was getting.

“What? It’s not a bad idea,” he continued, his fingers tracing small circles on my thigh. “Ayla wants a sister, and I’m more than willing to make that happen for her... and you.”

I bit my lip, trying to focus on anything but how good his voice sounded when he was being suggestive like this. “We are not discussing this in front of her,” I hissed, but it was getting harder to ignore the heat rising between us.

Kenan leaned in again, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered “Come on Askim, you look so sexy pregnant”

"Kenan!" I half-whispered, half-giggled, pushing him away again, my face fully flushed by now.

He laughed, clearly pleased with himself. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop... for now,” he said, sitting back with a smug grin, his hand still resting on my thigh as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

“But I’m serious, babe. We could give her a sister... or maybe a brother,” he added with a wink.

I shook my head, still trying to hide my smile. "You're impossible."

Kenan just grinned wider, leaning back against the couch. "And you love me for it."

Before I could respond, Ayla looked up at us again, completely oblivious to the tension between me and Kenan.

She clutched her doll tighter, her little face lighting up with excitement. “So I get a sister soon?” she asked innocently, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Kenan and I both laughed, and I reached down to stroke her hair. “We’ll see, sweetie,” I said gently, trying to steer the conversation away from Kenan’s less-than-innocent suggestions.

Kenan, though, wasn’t one to let things go so easily. He leaned in one last time, his lips brushing against my ear again, sending another shiver down my spine as he whispered, “Sooner than she thinks.”

I shot him a glare, but the smile tugging at the corner of my lips ruined any attempt at being serious.

“Just you wait,” he added, giving my thigh one last squeeze before turning his attention back to Ayla. "Daddy’s going to make it happen."

[me-sploh-rada-imas]

so i wrote down everything kris said in the spoken part of the q&a bit of the discord live thing and shared it on the joblr discord, but @leopardom suggested i collate it all here as well!

will there be an mv?

yes, definitely, cannot say exactly when. but we have a very good idea for it and i can't say anything right now. a lot of our balkan fans will be very excited about it. we might drop it after the song gets an x amount of streams. maybe 500,000 or something like that. i am not the person who decides.

how long did it take you to record?

complex question. in hamburg we spent 3-4 days on it and recorded 70%. mostly everything except the vocals and some synths. the rest was around a month in ljubljana to finish it, then we mixed it for 2-3 weeks. (mod jokes about sharing there were eight versions in the openstage, kris is confused) more of trying to catch a feeling than a specific sound, that's why. it's hard to communicate that with a mixing engineer. usually it takes about that many versions before we're satisfied.

what was the thought process behind the cover art?

the photo was taken by mark pirc. the artwork seems random at this moment, i can't say much, but it will make a lot of sense.

why did you decide to remove the intro?

i've seen some people asking about this. there's the two-sided nature of playing music before it's officially released. we weren't satisfied with it on tour but it was presentable to be played live. when we got to hamburg we decided we didn't like the arrangement anymore, it wasn't in line with the vibe and spirit of the composition of the song. we toned it down and made it more sensitive because of the lyrics and mood of the song.

bojan said in warsaw that final version would have more instruments (confusion by kris that he was talking about bluza?)

i have no idea what he said, maybe he was referencing the fact that we played the pijano version of the song. but there are like at least maybe 3 or 4 layers of synthesisers and pianos so maybe he was thinking of that. all of those are credited to our "piano playing god jan". i did the guitars apart from the acoustic which is bojan's doing. nace and jure did their parts on drums and bass. the future live performances will be the new version.

who were your biggest influences getting to the final mixed version?

good question. i don't think we had one specific song in mind. we felt like it's a ex-yugoslavian evergreenish kind of song which we grew up listening to, we just wanted to keep that vibe while transitioning from an acoustic song to a complete arrangement. i think we succeeded. i know during the recording process žare said he would liken this song to a song by simple minds or talking heads or something like that, i'd have to look it up. also it kind of gives me the same feeling as when listening to a song by plavi orkestar called od rođendana do rođendana.

we saw bojan post a photo [of a notebook page] with stolica bluza while in london, what was the development process from that?

the first memory i have of the song is bojan coming into the living room and having the lyrics of the first verse and chorus already written, trying to figure out the chords. it was a well-defined song when i first heard it, i can't speak to his initial perception of the song, it came out of him very quickly, which is always a good sign. i think we all very quickly understood what the assignment was with this song so to speak. often we get a song where we want to arrange it and do it but have a lot of figuring out to do, but this song was very clear cut. it fell into place very quickly by our standards.

playing the unfinished song live was an experiment, did you like the process?

it's not the first time we've done it but it's the first time in a long time we've played unreleased songs. we did it before the first album, which was a whole different experience. it's been interesting to see it play out in this international surrounding. i think it did help, especially for šta bih ja, which immediately gained a very positive reception from the crowd and gave us a lot of confidence and direction. we knew we didn't have to change much for šta bih ja, while with bluza we kind of knew this wasn't really what we wanted from the song.

can we expect more songs similar to bluza?

uhhh... i'm sick if you can hear it. i think there will be like one more song comparable to bluza, also in serbian, a bit more slow paced, but the rest won't be that similar. there's only a limited amount of space for that type of song, we don't want to repeat ourselves. hopefully the album will sound like a unified body of work but there's still a lot of variation in it to satisfy our desire for, i don't know, experimenting with new sounds and song types and concepts.

[turtle-taetell]

goodbye Mersmp

Super long message below!! (Funny story!)

and a message to the CCs at the end! <3

This is a piece that means so much to me. 21 months ago the designs for Theo and Faye got released. That day, i drew them! On paper with the supplies I had laying around, in a sketchbook smaller than my hand. At this point I was proud of my art but still very nervous about it. I had no idea how to draw them. I struggled a lot.

The second time I drew it, a year had passed. I felt I had been able to grow a lot as an artist and was excited to show how much I improved, so I redrew it! I loved how the lineart turned out and was so so excited to see the finished piece! But guess what? I hated it. I colored it in and still hate it to the point that I don’t even have the final version saved to my phone. It makes me feel ashamed.

But now, Mersmp has come to a close and the characters I have grown to care about so deeply have gotten their happy ending. So I wanted to give this piece that as well.

And finally, I think I can finally say I did.

I started drawing this final piece as soon as I was able to screenshot their epilogue designs. I was determined to make it right. So I sat down and drew, and drew, and drew, only taking an hour break to have dinner with a friend (don’t be like me). Finally, at 3am, eleven hours later, I was satisfied.

In this final piece are things that show just how tired I was. There are countless freckles on both characters, even under their scales! That’s a lot of dots. But wait… not the smallest. If you zoom in close enough they have pores! Much smaller than their freckles. That’s really a lot of dots! My freckle brush must have really come in clutch, right? WRONG! I dont have a freckle brush! All of this was done with one single smooth brush and I made Every. Single. Dot. Individually. That must have been pretty hard on my stylus, right? ONCE AGAIN WRONG! I don’t have a stylus! All of this was done on Ibis Paint x, a free art program, on an old janky ipad I got for free because it was so broken, all drawn with my finger. Even if I got a stylus, my ipad is too old to connect to any of them, including apple pencils.

The moral of this story is to never give up and not to let your resources limit your creativity. It doesn’t matter what medium you use, just do something to learn and keep pushing to improve. You will get there. Despite everything, you can do it.

And to the Mermp crew: Thank you for everything you have done. Through the story you have told and the community you have built, you have helped myself and others to grow in many ways. I myself learned a lot from Theo, learning that I do in fact go nonverbal at times and that does not mean there is anything wrong, and that I can feel conflicted and unsure about gender and expression. I learned I don’t need to be fixed. Just like I have now learned to look at the first redraw. I may not like it, but it is an expression of who I was at the time. Similar to Cella and Bite. Those characters may not like what they did in the past, but they are able to look back and recognize that it made them who they are today. If I always was proud of my first redraw, I may have never pressed myself to make this third one as beautiful. Thank you for the stories and lessons you have shared with us and allowing us to grow along side you and your characters.

And maybe, one day, a year or so from now, I can return to this and redraw it again, seeing what other things I enjoy in the future and how they may shape me to change.

With love, Turtle.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

hello :D i'm so in love with your writing i actually came up with a request for the first ever time *ever* since i joined like 5 years ago lmao

-reader gets into trouble with the chain for self endangering, reckless behavior, reprimanding/arguing ensues, maybe with reader not valuing themselves all that highly in comparison to the others? preferably with some rather rough lovin' as an escalation, just to get it through reader's thick skull that they're wanted and important

-i'd love to see Time, Warriors or Sky with this, but if you think someone else fits better that's perfectly reasonable too

-feel free to switch up any details you can't really work around (but no degradation please)

Absolutely!! I love this idea so much, so thank you for gracing me with it! I was also really inspired by this ask so it's going to be about 3-4 chapters long <3

The Bluest Eyes

Pairing: Warriors x Reader

Warning(s): A whole lot of smut and a few scenes of Reader suffering from PTSD. Reader is requested to be female.

Notes: Set in the same AU as Burning Love, where Reader is a retired war medic from Warriors' Hyrule. Also, a "night rail" is a type of nightgown :)

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

"Get down right now!" Hyrule's shout rang through the clearing, unusually annoyed for the typically patient traveler. Warriors lifted his head, blanching when he caught sight of you sitting atop the thick branches of one of the nearby trees, feet swinging down as you yelled back. 

"No! Go heal Wind!"

"Wind has a scrape on his arm," the traveler stressed, gesturing to the snoozing hero as the others began to gather under the tree, expressions ranging from concerned to downright shocked. "You've been stabbed, (Y/n)."

"I'm fucking fine," you hissed back as blood dripped onto the ground from the wound in your shoulder, and Warriors was caught between terror at your condition to complete bafflement at how you managed to climb the tree in such a state. "Leave me alone!"

"Not until you let me heal you," Hyrule ground out with a stormy expression, hands twitching as if he intended to make you come down with sheer force of will alone. 

"(Y/n)," Time tried in a soft tone, ever the voice of reason. "Denying yourself care will only hurt you further."

"Then I'll be hurting and Wind will be alive," you snarled, snapping your legs up when Wild took a running jump for them. More blood splattered from your shoulder, staining the sleeve of your tunic beyond repair, and Warriors finally noticed the unaltered fear in your expression. 

You were afraid, and he had an idea why. Being a medic during the War of Eras, there was no doubt in Warriors' mind that you had seen terrible things–death, disease, perhaps even betrayal--and the way your eyes nervously shifted to study each of them only confirmed his theory. You were trying to sacrifice yourself for them, though he couldn't fathom why; they had more than enough health potions to go around, and Hyrule had hardly even used his magic when tending to Wind. 

There was no reason for you to be acting this way, yet he knew exactly what you were. There was a faraway gleam in your eyes, like you were looking at something that didn't exist anymore. 

Warrior's stomach churned as he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since you felt truly safe. 

"(Y/n), please..." Legend's voice was uncharacteristically soft, eyes wide with worry, an expression they all shared. "It was only a lizalfos attack, no one else got hurt."

"He did," you spat, pointing to Wind, and Warriors couldn't take it anymore. 

"That's it, we're coming up."

You gasped as the captain took a running start, leaping up and just barely latching on to the branch below your feet. "Get down right now, you're going to hurt yourself!"

"We're just trying to help you," Sky took a less physical approach, moving to stand beneath the branch with a look of barely disguised regret. 

"I'm fine," you repeated in a weak voice, and Warriors knew he had to act fast. 

"You're bleeding out," he grunted as he heaved himself over the branch, ignoring the blood dripping down onto his scarf; it wasn't like he couldn't wash it later. 

"It's just blood," you said, and he could have laughed at how disappointed you looked in yourself when the words sunk in. 

"Just blood?" Warriors pulled himself onto the branch, settling next to you, hand reaching around your waist to stabilize your swaying form. Your hands valiantly tried to bat him away, but you were far too weak to do any real damage. 

"Please," his heart ached at the beginning of tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "Get down."

"Not without you," he countered quietly. 

"You're hurt," you whimpered, and it was as if all the air had been sucked from the space. Your gaze was worryingly unfocused as you turned your head to look at him, and Warriors could only imagine what you were seeing. "I can't heal you."

"I'm not hurt," he replied gently, not wanting to scare you even more than you already were. "It's all yours."

"Oh," you blinked slowly, as if you were struggling to comprehend his very words. "I'm sorry."

There was a knot in Warriors' throat. He tried to gulp it down, but it bounced back with more force than he expected. "Don't be sorry, just let Hyrule heal you."

Your gaze flicked slowly to the heroes waiting below, a protective glint in your slowly-focusing eyes. "...What about them?"

"They'll be okay," Warriors promised, and you nodded weakly, head lolling to the right to rest against his shoulder, pressing your wound to his chest with nary a hiss. 

"Okay," you whispered in the most broken tone he had heard from you. 

Warriors was sure he hadn't moved quicker in his life, carefully gathering your limp form in his arms and dropping back to solid ground. He remained silent as Hyrule dashed over, hands already glowing with green magic. 

"Lay her down," the traveler said in a wavering voice, and Warriors did as instructed, placing you on the ground as if one wrong move would shatter you, and it was then that he truly noticed the ashy pallor your face had taken on, eyes squeezed shut as Hyrule worked his magic above you. 

Slowly but surely, the exposed wound on your shoulder closed, your skin knitting together under the traveler's hands, leaving behind a wide rip in the blood-soaked sleeve of your tunic. The fitful expression on your face softened some, but he could still see the slight frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

Warriors' hand found your uninjured shoulder, shaking it softly as Wild plopped down beside you, face twisted with worry. "How are you feeling?"

There was no response, and his heart could have damn near stopped when he registered the tell-tale softness your breathing had taken on. Nearly shoving Hyrule aside, he pressed two fingers to the side of your neck, fearing the worst. 

"Is she dead?!" Four exclaimed in absolute, unadulterated horror, and the others began to murmur in fear. Warriors' pressed harder, motions unusually desperate as he fought to find a pulse. No, his mind whispered, a cacophony of dread as his fearful thoughts soared, cursing himself for not acting sooner. He shouldn't have waited, and now you were paying the price for his stupidity--

The very notion of time seemed to skid to a standstill when you wheezed suddenly, throat bobbing harshly against his prodding fingers. 

"She's alive!" Hyrule exclaimed in palpable relief, and the tension in the air began to dissipate. Warriors took several breaths to calm his racing heartbeat, removing his hand from your neck as you coughed, turning your head to the side, groaning softly. "Fuck," you said, and the captain was torn between crying and laughing. 

"Are you alright?" Sky was quick to help you into a sitting position. You winced, rubbing at your healed shoulder with your free hand. 

"Yeah," you mumbled, looking around with mounting apprehension. "...Where's Wind?"

"Here!" called the sailor, having just woken up from his nap, and you gave him an exhausted half-grin. 

"Good," you tried to stand, only to be pushed down by Hyrule. 

"Not a chance, (Y/n)," the traveler chided, obviously still shaken from your initial refusal of help. "You're staying right there."

"I'm okay--"

"No," Hyrule said in a tone that brokered no argument. "You are– you are going to sit there and get better, or Hylia help me I will tie you down until you do."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Warriors noted how quickly you reconsidered the idea when Hyrule fixed you with a dark glare, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that screamed 'try me and die'. 

"...Fine," you relented, slumping backward, and the captain had a distinct urge to ruffle your hair. Your cheeks pinked and you all but hissed: "Stop that."

"Nope," said Warriors, laughing softly when you fixed him with one of your practiced stares, though even a fool could see that there was no heat whatsoever in your gaze. He rose to his feet, deftly dusting the tops of his pants. "Time, do you–"

"Um, guys?" Wind's voice interrupted, filled with apprehension. Warriors turned to face the sailor... only to blanch. 

A portal had opened in the center of the clearing--pure white mixed with swirling hints of gold. The air around it crackled softly, charged with an explicably dangerous energy that had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

"Is that...?" You trailed off, letting the situation speak for itself. 

"Time," Warriors drew his sword, stalking over to put himself between you and the portal. "Do we have another–"

"No," the oldest hero cut him off, tone unusually icy. "This isn't anything I recognize."

"We'll have to go through it, then," said Wild, already advancing forward. Warriors gazed back at Twilight and Legend, who both nodded, unsheathing their swords while the captain re-sheathed his, bending over to gather you in his arms. 

"I can walk," you half snapped, though you made no real move to prove that point. 

"No, you can't," Warriors responded, turning to face the portal as Time and Twilight entered it, disappearing in a flash of light. The others followed swiftly, and he could only hope they'd be able to survive what awaited them on the other side.

You recognized the castle gates as soon as you saw them. 

You had long since wrapped your arms around Warriors' neck, holding on for dear life despite the fact that you knew he wouldn't drop you, deftly studying the bustling streets as the group stepped into Castle Town. 

It was undoubtedly your Hyrule, and there was a certain comfort in being home again. You remained silent as the others chatted, half because you were nearly asleep and half because you couldn't fathom what to say to any of them at this point. Embarrassment coursed through you as you recalled their terrified expressions when you scaled the tree, too lost in your thoughts to realize what was going on. 

You liked to think you kept decent control of your emotions, but now...

"Hey," you felt the words rumbling from Warriors' chest before you heard them. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," you said quickly. Perhaps too quickly, from the way he cocked an eyebrow down at you in response. "I'm fine."

"You keep saying that," the hero paused, then continued in a far quieter tone. "But I don't think I believe you anymore."

"Maybe because it's none of your business," you hissed... and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry, I just–"

"I understand," said Warriors. The hand on your ribcage tightened as he hefted you tighter against him. "I really do."

You didn't doubt that, you really didn't, but a thick ball formed in your throat and you didn't trust yourself not to start bawling in the middle of the street. With a shaky huff, you tucked your head against the broad expanse of Warriors' chest, letting familiar darkness consume you. 

You couldn't sleep. 

The bedroom Queen Zelda had so graciously gifted you was too cold, yet your pillow felt hot enough to burn a hole through metal. You flipped onto your stomach, gripping the pillow as you buried your face into it. Every time you closed your eyes, memories of the War would pop into your mind's eye like flies, only dropping when you awoke, panting like you had run a lap around the castle itself. 

"Fuck..." you whispered to the empty room. Warriors had passed you off to Twilight and Hyrule as soon as his boots crossed the foyer, declaring that he had a meeting with Zelda, only returning with a grim expression and ten keys. The Queen had heard reports of a black lizalfos roaming the land, but they were largely unreliable, leaving everyone with no choice but to stay in the castle for the night. 

While you were grateful for the unexpected privacy, there was something to be said about sleeping in the open with what you now considered to be some of your closest friends. The room, decked out in purple tapestries, was terribly lonely, as four-poster beds typically weren't the chattiest of company. 

The bed creaked as you shifted onto your back, staring up at the stone ceiling, hands fisted in the soft fabric of the creme night rail you wore. You tried not to think of how Wind had almost been slashed, or how close Time had gotten to being bisected by a moblin, but they kept popping up the harder you willed them away. 

It was hopeless, you realized. Completely, utterly hopeless. 

You swung your legs off the side of the bed, kicking your slippers on and shuffling to the nightstand, where a lone candle sat. With trembling hands, you lit it. A fierce orange glow illuminated the room, and you used it to guide you to the door, peering outside at the empty hallway. 

You were no stranger to the castle, which is why you stepped out for a short walk, shoes scuffing gently on the polished floor. 

Aimlessly, you wandered, uncaring of where you ended up. Dark shadows stretched and spun before you, quickly vanquished by the light of the candle. You walked beneath one of the many arches, entering a hallway you didn't recognize. A large portrait hung on the very back wall, a stunning caricature of Queen Zelda and... Warriors. 

You approached the portrait, holding up your candle for a better view. Their faces were relaxed–not too relaxed, of course–and could be vaguely described as peaceful. Warriors himself looked younger, like the burden of being a hero had not yet hit, with a small grin that made the corners of your lips quirk up. 

"...(Y/n)?"

You nearly dropped the candle as you spun around, heart nearly leaping from your chest. 

"Wars?!"

And there he was, in all his blonde-haired, bleary-eyed glory, dressed in nothing but a pair of pants. You tried not to look at his chest, mostly because it was highly inappropriate and partially because you were supposed to be upset, and looking at that glorious abdomen made you feel anything but sad. 

"You're not asleep," he observed in a matter-of-fact tone. "Why was I expecting this?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I could say the same about you."

"I know," his gaze flicked to the portrait, then back to you. "Do you want to talk?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

You bristled. "Excuse me?"

"You're unexcused," Warriors shot back, and you became distinctly aware of just how close a two-foot distance was when you were alone. "Tell me the truth."

"And that is?"

The captain fixed you with a half-hearted, largely exhausted glare. "Gee, (Y/n), maybe when you climbed a tree to avoid medical attention?"

"That's diff–"

"Or perhaps when you refused to let Hyrule heal you until we climbed the tree?"

"That's not–"

"Or should I mention that time you attempted to give Wild a healing potion after he stubbed his toe?"

"You–"

"I'm not done," Warriors cut you off, running a hand down his face. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? How worried I was?"

There was silence, because you didn't trust yourself to speak without breaking down. 

"Well?" the captain prompted. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

You stared at him. This was pointless; you didn't want to talk, you wanted...

A knot formed in your stomach. What did you want? It had been so long since you considered something so... well, you felt it was rather mundane, but that didn't excuse that you had no idea what you wanted. 

You didn't realize you had begun to cry until Warriors' hand swiped gently at your face with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. For you, at least. 

"It's going to be alright," he said, and, before you knew it, you were bawling, thick sobs shaking your shoulders. Wars wordlessly pulled you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your trembling form. 

"I can't do it," you whispered against his clavicle, arms encircling his bare back. "If I can't help him, how am I to help the rest of you?"

"You don't have to," the captain responded softly, hugging you a bit tighter. "You've helped enough-- no, more than enough."

"I know, b-but," you hated how your voice wavered noticeably when you spoke the last word. "I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"How can you promise that?" you hiccuped, pressing yourself closer, heavy tears blurring your vision. "Wars..."

"We're strong, (Y/n), we'll always be here," he responded slowly. Carefully. "Always."

“Promise me,” you whispered, unable to force any other words out. You needed to hear him say it, and the anticipation was tearing you from the inside out. 

“I promise,” said Warriors. He sounded genuine, but, then again, he always did. 

“Good,” you sniffed, feeling slightly sheepish for crying on him in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry, I just…”

You froze when Warriors put a finger over your lips, shushing you softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you like he would never let go. “Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault, okay?”

That… that was new. You had always liked Warriors; he was kind and reliable, not to mention an excellent strategist. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you willed them away, hoping the night was dark enough to conceal the burning flush on your cheeks. 

“...Okay,” you agreed, distinctly aware of the flexing muscles lying just beneath your fingertips. Warriors was strong–they all were–and you felt as much anxiety over it as you did comfort. “Why… Why were you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he responded quickly, and you couldn’t help but chuckle half-heartedly. “What is it?”

The words slipped from you like a knife through butter, like the softest silk and the quietest breeze. “We’re both hopeless.”

Warriors hummed and turned his sparkling cerulean gaze to you. “Maybe,” he whispered to the night. “Helplessness can be helped.”

“You think?” You were almost afraid to ask, but you could have done anything to hear his voice again. 

“I think it’s time for bed.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. Warriors released you when you pushed lightly on his chest, arms hanging loosely by his bare sides. “Isn’t that Sky’s line?”

“...I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Deal.”

With slightly-lifted spirits, you peered outside, studying the star-spangled sky with mild interest. The moon was bright, bathing the hallway in a milky sheen that made it all the more eternal, and you wondered why you hadn’t taken the time to study it before. “It’s so–… I never noticed…”

“Beauty comes in many forms,” Warriors intoned softly with a glance in your direction. “There are people who go their whole lives without appreciating the little things.”

“And you are?”

The captain hesitated, shoulders slumping slightly, making you wonder if he would appreciate a hug. “I’m still working on it,” he admitted softly, and made the executive decision not to pry.

“So am I,” you shot an exhausted grin his way. “...How mad do you think Hyrule will be if I don’t sleep?”

Warriors ran a hand down his face, and only a fool would miss the very obvious, very large smile he was attempting to conceal. Until it shifted to a grin, then a smirk. 

“If I have to sleep, you do too.”

“Actually–”

“Hush,” you blinked dumbly when his hand extended, palm up, toward you. A few seconds passed, and Warriors let out a small huff. “(Y/n)–”

“Present.”

“...Just take my hand.”

You did.

First chapter done! This is the second ask that has activated me like this, and I'm excitedly-terrified of the other wonderful ideas y'all might send me in the future!

[cephydeluxe]

most Simeon/MC fics r kyute as hell, but a lot of them focus simeon's reason for "falling" (aka: disobeying father's rule of never extending a human's life by stealing the ring of light) as solely because he loves mc,

and like..... that's ok 😐 and all, but I feel like it kinda narrows simeon's character a bit ((but the following thoughts below r my interpretation so take this more as appreciation than a criticism of any other interpretations of simeon))

Simeon, regardless of whether or not it's reciprocated, still feels brotherly love for the brothers. They were once his brothers, and when it came time to wage war against them in the name of their Father, he refused to fight them and was demoted.

His love for his family made him refuse God's orders because the idea of harming his family was worse than the disapproval of God.

"ok well what does this have 2 do w the ring of light" shut up ill get 2 that >:(

I'm not gonna recap much cause my phone's at like 8% idgaf srry 😒. The only important parts is that mc's existence and pacts w the brothers is highly unstable and causing chaos in the three realms, and the only ways to fix it are to either kill lucifer with the night dagger, or to obtain the ring of light from the celestial realm.

So it's either trade lucifer's life for mc's, or steal the ring from micheal. The ring is immediately ruled out because demons can't enter the celestial realm, and it would probably (most definitely) cause a political shitstorm if a demon did steal it.

So the only option left is to kill lucifer, and right as mc is given the choice of killing him or themself, here comes Simeon, fresh from the celestial realm with the stolen ring of light in tow

Now, most fics tend to depict these events as simeon risking his status as archangel (an already unstable position given his refusal to fight during the war) as a huge romantic sacrifice because of his love for mc.

And that's,, cute ig but there is so many more things going on in that scene (2 me at least, solmare isn't really known 4 their writing 🫢)

Simeon's sacrifice in stealing the ring, in potentially incurring the wrath of God, in committing the same sin Lilith did to be disowned and even killed by their shared Father, and in risking his home he was raised and lived in for his entire life,

was both for his family that he has missed for thousands of years and for the person who healed them when he himself was unable to.

The TSL series (written by Simeon before the exchange program) are a retelling of the events between the avatars and mc. Even after they are cast out of heaven for treason and simeon is demoted for not wanting to hurt them, he still cares about them and wants the best for them, writing stories about them and their "Henry".

Even if the brothers treat him coldly and distantly, he still cares about them deeply enough that the prospect of killing lucifer? Their eldest brother?

The one who constantly does everything in his power to keep the rest of his family safe after the death of his sister?

The one who traded his loyalty to the demon prince after just landing after being thrown out of his home?

It's completely unthinkable to Simeon.

So that just leaves MC, then. The reincarnation of Lilith and the friend of all seven brothers, even after being violently killed by one of them,

(belphie, cough cough)

Still accepts all of them and keeps them together, and at this point in the story, is practically welcomed as a fixture in their messy yet tight-knit family.

For MC to sacrifice themself for the brothers would be to break them, to leave another unfillable void in their hearts like Lilith did so many years ago. The moment things would return to normal and Lucifer regained his memories would be devastating, knowing that yet again he failed to keep his family safe and whole.

Grief for MC's death would be felt far and wide, Simeon included.

Both outcomes of using the night dagger are unthinkable to Simeon, both causing unimaginable grief for everyone.

So the ring of light is all that remains.

It's a no-brainer, really.

Angels aren't restricted from the celestial realm, and if the ring is stolen by an angel, it has a way less likely chance of falling back on the devildom, on the fragile peace him and many others have worked so hard to facilitate between the three realms.

So what if the consequences will primarily fall upon Simeon alone, it matters little to the certain disaster either outcomes of wielding the night dagger will bring. Both Lucifer and MC will be unharmed, and the chaos will end.

But could you imagine the feelings he must have felt?

In the chamber where the ring of light is kept, having just snuck past Micheal, a twist in his gut from breaking the most basics of holy disciplines he has spent his entire life embodying, just staring at the ring of light in its container, the last momento of a father's love for his favorite child before disowning him.

It's a warning, a sign that tells Simeon that he will be next to fall if he takes this ring.

He takes it anyway, throwing his loyalty to God away if it means saving Lucifer, saving his family, saving the peace they've obtained without him.

A penance, maybe, for his inaction in the war, when perhaps one seraphim could've made a difference, if not win the war, then at least could've spared Lilith's life.

Can you imagine how he must have felt, standing in front of MC with the ring in his hands?

Lilith's sin that started the war wasn't just that she fell in love with a human, it was when she extended the life of her lover because of it. A clear defiance of Father's will, to negate written fate for the sake of her selfish love was what got her killed.

And here Simeon stands, staring into the eyes of her reincarnation as he offers them the ring that will save them, extend their life, and doom Simeon to walk the same path their angelic ancestor died on.

The ring is a promise, of the disownment that Simeon faces, of the pain he will endure in defying God's word as an angel (whose sole objective, down to the very fabric of his being, to the very purpose of his creation, is to embody and enforce), of the corruption of his very soul that paints his ivory feathers black.

It's also a promise of devotion, of commitment to this deadly sin, this selfless sacrifice, to the human he's fallen in love with, and to the family he longs to be close with again.

It's a vow, for all the atrocities he's willing to commit for the sake of protecting those he cherishes above all else.

It's a vow, for the deeply rooted love for the human, one who's very existence is the result of the tragic end of the angel who came before him and paved the doomed path he now walks.

Like Oroboros eating its tail, Simeon's love for the demon brothers and MC is never-ending and inevitable.

When asked, he says he wishes he could've fought with the brothers in the war, so he could "stay the same as them" and that the war weighed heavily on his mind from time to time.

Ever since he watched them be cast down to hell, he was destined to fall with them someday, too.

.

.

.

(christ, this got so out of hand, this is probably a huge mess to read, srry I'm not a writer or a media analyst, this is just ramblings of someone who's got some really dramatic art to make.) simeon 4ever bby <3

(also I could make a separate post from solomon's pov where he's willing to sacrifice a pact with lucifer, something he's worked for years for a chance, just to save MC, but im sleepy goodnight)

(most of this post was written while I was listening to elden ring ost, thank u bayle the dread for making this post way more dramatic than it needed to be)

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! I've been really enjoying your metas and I appreciate the canon backing and effort you put on them. Thank you for posting!

I wanted to ask you what your opinion is on the duel in GoF, when the wands connect and Harry kind of overpowers Voldemort: Do you think it was a battle of wills? Of pure raw magical power? Or, if you think it's both, could you share your thoughts on that? tysm!

(btw Harry is also my favourite <3)

Thank you so much! Harry deserves all the love in the world honestly.

Now, I think the priori incantatum duel was mostly will-based. Harry outright says it:

The direction of the beam’s movement was now toward him, from Voldemort, and he felt his wand shudder angrily. . . . As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Harry’s wand tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame. The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry’s wand vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers — He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed . . . and slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way . . . and it was Voldemort’s wand that was vibrating extra-hard now . . . Voldemort who looked astonished, and almost fearful. . . . One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Voldemort’s wand. Harry didn’t understand why he was doing it, didn’t know what it might achieve . . . but he now concentrated as he had never done in his life on forcing that bead of light right back into Voldemort’s wand . . . and slowly . . . very slowly . . . it moved along the golden thread . . . it trembled for a moment. . . and then it connected. . . .

(GoF, 665-666)

Harry states how he is concentrated. How he has no idea what he's doing but he knows he needs to push the bead forward. Voldemort's shock, as he wasn't expecting it, allowed him to be caught him off guard and he wasn't putting his all into it. Not the way Harry was. Voldemort likes being in control, he likes knowing and understanding what's going on. He doesn't like it when things go awry or when he doesn't know something. It leaves him off balance at this crucial moment. I think Voldemort did intuitively push the beads toward Harry at first, but the moment they started moving, he was stumped. He didn't know how to react to it. Like, he planned this night for months, and this was not in the script. Of course, he's off balance.

The spirits (yes, spirits, because unlike ghosts they are not made of a person's soul but a person's spirit, which is more like their life essence. Alchemy, yay!) that later came from his wand weren't helping him either, distracting him and guilting him while encouraging Harry. and Voldemort, contrary to popular belief, is susceptible to it. It unbalances him and definitely gives Harry an edge in a battle of wills.

Not to mention, Voldemort was fighting to rectify a failure, Harry, on the other hand, was fighting for his life. The latter always encourages more determination. Like, that duel isn't life or death for Voldemort, but it is for Harry. This explains why he could pull off the force of will necessary even if he wasn't exceptionally determined and resilient — which, for the record, Harry is.

And as Harry mentioned above, it's a lot of concentration and will. But, it's also magic, but not exactly, raw magical power. I mean, I talked in the past about how Harry just gets complex magic intuitively or thinks about magic in completely different terminology from everyone else? This is another example of that.

This is a spell that no one has seen before, not just that Harry hasn't seen. And yet, Harry understands. He knows what would happen if the beads of light reach his wand. He knows he needs to get them to Voldemort's wand. He also clearly knows how to achieve it. He just instinctively knows what to do even if he has no idea what he's doing.

Voldemort, on the other hand, likes to know what he is doing. He is more methodical about magic, he needs magic to make sense, to be known, to him at least. Even when he was a child at the orphanage, you know Tom Riddle experimented with his magic very methodically. He tried small things, seeing if he can replicate them and under what situations. He had a whole system he used to experiment and allow himself more capabilities. He practiced months before he attempted anything with Billy's rabbit. Harry doesn't need all that. Harry is fine winging it with magic in a way basically all of Wizardkind struggles with. Honestly, if there's really a power the Dark Lord knows not, it's how to just roll with it, the control freak (affectionate).

I'd add that if there was a significant difference in magical power between Harry and Voldemort, it would have had an effect, but I think, raw power-wise, they're pretty equal, as the prophecy implies. Because of that, in their case, raw magical power doesn't really play a part.

So, I'll call it a bit of a mix between force of will and capacity for intuitive magic. Two things Harry's got in spades. (but mostly force of will)

[arc852]

Childhood Friends

Summary: Jimmy always thought it was weird how close Grian and Joel were despite only meeting a month before he met them.

Turns out, Jimmy got the origins of their first meeting wrong.

Warnings: brief mention of feeling hurt

Word Count: 1498

AO3 Link

Sorry for not actually writing their first meeting but I liked the idea of Jimmy not actually knowing how they really met and finding out by them telling him. I may write their actual first meeting some day but for right now, I like how this reveals it!

I hope you guys enjoy!

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

 There was something that Jimmy always thought was weird but never really brought up. And that was how Grian and Joel interacted with each other. They were obviously really close, especially with the way they were able to have silent conversations with each other, something that still freaked Jimmy out a bit whenever he noticed. But it didn’t really make any sense. If the two had met on the first day of school, that had only been a month or so before they met Jimmy. 

 It was a bit weird but Jimmy always just went along with it. After all, he got really close with Grian and Joel after only a few weeks. It was possible they just hit it off really well when they first met.

 That was what Jimmy chose to believe, up until one night when they were all hanging out and the topic of their childhoods came up. “And then Mr. Peters gave me detention on top of all that!” Joel exclaimed with a huff, wrapping up his story of how he got in trouble for pulling a prank that ended up backfiring on him. Both Grian and Jimmy laughed at the story, though Grian’s was a bit more subdued.

 “Oh yeah! I think I remember that happening. You probably should have done it in someone else’s class, Mr. Peters was always a stickler.” Grian commented. 

 Joel sighed, placing his chin in his hand as he leaned on his crossed legs. “Well yeah, but that’s why I did it to him in the first place.”

 Jimmy blinked, his laughter petering off as he glanced between the two humans. It was said so casually that Jimmy almost missed the implications of it. “Wait, you two…knew each other back then?”

 Grian and Joel’s attention fell onto him, sitting atop Joel’s nightstand. Joel’s eyebrows furrowed though he was still smiling. “Yeah? Grian and I have known each other since we were, like, 6.”

 Jimmy felt his entire view of the two of them spin on its head. “I…I didn’t know that.”

 “Really?” Grian asked, sharing a glance with Joel. “I kind of thought it was obvious.” They weren’t making fun or teasing him, Jimmy could tell it was a genuine thought. That didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed though.

 “Well I just-I just assumed you guys met at the start of college. Most roommates do. And besides, you two live like 8 hours apart! What was I supposed to think?” Jimmy said, trying his best to defend himself despite not being attacked on the subject.

 Grian hummed, leaning back against his desk chair. “I guess that’s fair. My family and I moved during my sophomore year of high school.”

 “Yeah, we were so sad when we found out. It was a hard goodbye.” Joel chimed in, thinking back on that time. It had definitely been hard, having his best friend move so far away. 

 “Oh.” Jimmy supposed that made sense. “So, what happened when Grian moved?” If they were borrowers, then something like moving would pretty much be the end of any sort of relationship. Borrowers had no way to communicate long distance and it was too dangerous to go and try to visit. But Jimmy knew humans had phones and things in order to keep in touch.

 “We kept it touch for the most part, although during our senior year we barely talked if at all.” Joel said.

 That was surprising to hear for Jimmy. “Really? Why?”

 Grian shrugged. “We were really busy. It sucks but we just really didn’t have the time to chat with everything going on.”

 “It’s actually really funny.” Joel said with a grin. “We had no idea the other was going to college here.”

 “Seriously?” Jimmy said with wide eyes.

 “Yeah, imagine our surprise when I walked into my assigned dorm and I saw Grian already there unpacking.” Joel said with an even wider grin. It was still crazy to think about even now, the coincidence of that even happening.

 Jimmy seemed to be thinking the same thing if his shocked expression was anything to go by. “That’s…actually insane.”

 “Right?” Grian said with a chuckle. “But yeah, we’ve known each other for years.”

 “I guess that does explain a lot.” Jimmy said. “I was always wondering how you two seemed so close for people who met a month before we did.”

 “Well, now you know.” Grian said and then moved his hand over to ruffle Jimmy’s hair with a finger. Jimmy let out a small screech of (fake) annoyance and tried to push Grian’s hand away. Grian, however, didn’t give in. Instead, moving his hand from Jimmy’s head to his entire body, scooping the borrower up. Jimmy yelped as his back was pressed up against Grian’s palm, fingers curling in.

 Jimmy gave one last push against the fingers around him before settling down. Grian brought him closer and grinned at him. “Giving up already?” Grian teased and Jimmy rolled his eyes.

 “No. For your information I wanted to be held, thank you very much.” Jimmy said with a huff.

 Joel watched this exchange with a smile, looking back and forth between his two best friends. “You know,” Joel started, getting Grian and Jimmy’s attention back. “I wonder what it would have been like if we found Jimmy as kids.”

 Grian blinked and looked down at Jimmy, all wrapped up in his hand. It was a weird thing to think about, meeting Jimmy way back when. Would things have gone down similarly? 

 Since Grian was watching Jimmy so closely, he noticed when Jimmy winced a bit. Confused by Jimmy’s reaction, Grian decided to call him out on it. “What’s wrong? Don’t think you could have kept up with us as kids?” Grian said in a teasing manner.

 “No, I just…” Jimmy trailed off, looking off somewhere in the distance as his grip around Grian’s finger tightened. Just enough where Grian could feel it. “Kids are dangerous to borrowers. More so than adults usually.”

 Joel’s eyes widened at what Jimmy was getting at. “So…what? You think something would have happened if we met as kids?” Joel tried not to feel hurt, knowing kids could be very careless, but it was hard.

 Jimmy shrugged, feeling a bit awkward talking about it. “I’m not saying for sure but…it’s possible.”

 Grian hummed, his eyes narrowed in thought at Jimmy’s words. He wanted to say he had been a pretty careful kid, that if they had met Jimmy way back when then nothing bad would have happened. But…he couldn’t. None of them had any way of knowing how things could have gone. And if Grian and Joel had reacted so poorly in the first place to Jimmy as adults then…

 Well, maybe it was best not to think about those what ifs.

 Grian stood up from his desk chair, pushing it back toward his desk as he all but fell onto Joel’s bed next to him, being careful of Jimmy still tucked in his hand. He brought said hand up to chest level and out enough where Joel could clearly see Jimmy as well. “Well, none of that really matters anyway. We’re here and we’re friends and that’s all that matters.” Grian said, trying to bring the subject down to a close.

 Thankfully, it worked.

 Jimmy smiled and nodded, his previous demeanor gone. “Yeah, you’re right.”

 Grian could tell Joel didn’t seem as quick to let things go. Still not really over what Jimmy had insinuated. But Grian gave Joel a look that said they would talk later, without Jimmy present, and Joel sighed. Grian’s sign that Joel wouldn’t say anything for the time being. Instead, Joel looked down at Jimmy and, despite his hurt, he gave a genuine smile. “Yeah.” Joel agreed with the two and then reached out his hand.

 Grian allowed Joel to take Jimmy from him, watching fondly as Joel held Jimmy close in the palm of his hand. “Besides, we act like we’ve been friends for years anyway. I don’t think it would have made much of a difference if we met earlier or not.”

 Jimmy blinked and thought that over. “Huh. I guess you’re right.” Obviously there were some things that would get even better with time. Jimmy still found himself a little nervous sometimes around Grian and Joel. The size difference was just…very big. But Jimmy thinks, eventually, even that little bit of instinctual nervousness would go away.

 Grian glanced back and forth between the two with a grin. “...Did I tell you about the time in junior year when I pranked the school council president by growing wild mushrooms in his locker?”

 Both of his friends’ attention turned to him, eyes wide with astonishment. “Wait, seriously?” Joel said with a grin.

 “Okay, you have to tell us this story.” Jimmy said, shifting slightly in Joel’s hand to get more comfortable.

 Grian hummed and thought back to that time. “Well, it really all started when Scar won the election…”

[lovelyatomicpeace]

Guiding Light

Plot: Steve suddenly lost his father and doesn't know what to do, but luckily y/n is there for him.

Warnings: Sadness, crying, comfort, flashback

A little ff that I created from an idea that came to mind. Enjoy ❤️

As the sun began its slow descent behind the treetops of Hawkins, the air filled with the cool bite of autumn, Y/n ran down the familiar road toward Steve's house. His heart was pounding, not just from sprinting, but from the weight of urgency and grief. The news of her father's sudden death had reached her painfully, like broken glass on a marble floor with which she felt all too intimate.

Steve and his father had never had such a close bond. Their conversations were usually abrupt, punctuated by misunderstandings and the silent tension of unfulfilled expectations. Y/n had watched from afar, every argument and every harsh word exchanged between them etched pain in her heart. She knew Steve needed her now more than ever. As she reached the front steps of Steve's house, she hesitated for a fleeting moment. She could hear the sound of muffled voices inside: friends and family gathered, each carrying the weight of their grief. But that was the last thing he thought about as he stretched toward the doorbell. She was not there for pleasantries; she was there to be his anchor. The door opened and there appeared Steve, disheveled and pale, his brown eyes wide and glassy.

Before she could even formulate a greeting, he collapsed in her arms, the dam breaking as he sobbed into her shoulder. It was the kind of heartbreak that echoed in the pit of her stomach; she held him tighter, feeling his tears against her neck, the tremors of loss shaking them both.

"I can't..." he gasped between breaths.

Y/N tightened his grip, cradling him as he cried. "It's okay, Steve. I'm here," he whispered, in a calm voice as if he could channel his pain through words.

The usually cavernous house was now full of people: friends and familiar faces were scattered, hushed whispers mingled with the subdued background of soft music coming from the living room. Lucas sat with Max, their usual quarrels absent. Dustin was solemn, preoccupied with scraping a nonexistent splinter in the sofa. Robin and Nancy clutched each other, offering silent support, while Jonathan and Will exchanged glances that said much about the pain they shared. Mike sat off to the side, fingers intertwined with El's, both looking lost. As the commotion hummed slightly behind her, Y/N guided Steve into the living room, away from prying eyes. The light filtering through the drawn curtains cast shadows but also warmth; it felt like a cocoon, a safe space in which to share his vulnerabilities. Gently, she led him to the couch, where they sank together, the outside world temporarily forgotten: one of his knees resting on the floor as he bent over her. She ran her fingers through his hair, reassuring him, rooting him on.

"I couldn't even say goodbye to him," Steve said in a choked voice, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. "We had to make things right-it was my last chance, and I blew it."

"You didn't ruin anything, Steve," Y/N reassured him, in a firm voice. "You loved him, even with all the hard things. That's all that matters now."

"Yes, but it wasn't enough," he murmured, lowering his gaze to the floor. "He never understood me. My whole life has been a struggle for his approval that I never got."

"Sometimes people are just ... complicated. Your relationship was not easy, but you still meant a lot to him. You were his son," Y/N replied softly. "You showed him love in the ways you could."

"Why did he have to be such a jerk to me?" he croaked, wiping tears from her face with the back of her hand. "He was so consumed with his life that he never stopped to listen ... to understand anything about it." Y/n nodded, her heart aching. She had witnessed Steve's struggles, his attempts to gain acceptance and recognition from a father who had inadvertently rejected him. The loss of a parent was complex enough, but when mixed with unresolved feelings, it turned into something even more bitter.

Steve stood in front of her, lost, remembering his last argument with his dad:

It was one of those stormy afternoons when the thunder rumbling overhead echoed the tensions brewing in the Harrington mansion. A heavy downpour painted its chaos against the large windows, mirroring the struggle that was brewing between Steve and his father. The opulent surroundings of the estate looked like a gilded prison. Steve stood defiantly in the spacious living room, his muscles tense with anger.

"Dad, I'm not going to trade school! You can't make me!" shouted Steve, the resolve in his voice trembling to the edge of desperation.

His father, Robert, sat behind a polished mahogany desk, his fingers intertwined under his chin. The man was the epitome of success, a tycoon respected and feared in equal measure. "I can and I will, Steven. You don't even want to follow in my footsteps. You want to waste your life chasing ... what? You want still to work for a stupid video store? You're not cut out for that."

"I'm not cut out for it either!" spat Steve, gesturing to the room full of memorabilia, awards and an expectation he couldn't stand. "I hate your idea of success. You want me to be your perfect little clone, and I won't do it! I refuse to be part of your empire!"

Robert's eyes squinted, his voice deceptively calm. "There are choices in life that shape your future, Steve. You think you have it all figured out, but you're just a child playing at adulthood. I have sacrificed so much for this family; the least you can do is live up to the legacy."

"Sacrifice?" Steve's voice cracked, the weight of lost years overwhelming him. "You never sacrificed anything for me! You were too busy building your empire to notice me!"

"Do you think this is easy? Do you have any idea how hard I worked?" retorted Robert, rising from his chair, anger exploding. "Look at you, look at what you are! A failure! You're a disappointment!"

Disappointment. The word hung in the air, choking, as if it had just settled in Steve's chest. That word shattered something deep inside him, igniting a longing for freedom he had never known existed.

"That's not true!" he cried back, hot tears filling his eyes. "You've never even tried to understand me. All you care about is your image, your successes! I don't want any of that!"

"I am your father! I'm trying to prepare you for life, and this is what you do? You throw everything away for ... you for nothing?"

Steve seethed with anger and pain, the mix of emotions contending inside him until he could take no more. "You know what? Maybe I don't need you at all!" he shouted before running from the room, tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

As he left the mansion, the storm was equal to the turmoil in his heart. He rushed out into the rain, letting the deluge wash over him. He could not face his father, the anger swirling in his chest was a tangible entity demanding to be released. It felt like the beginning of the end, a farewell to a future he had not chosen...

Suddenly y/n's hand on his cheek brings him back to reality. Steve looked up, searching her face for answers, something she could not give. "What good is love without understanding?" The question remained there, charging the air with a melancholy that enveloped them like a fog. Silence fell between them, filled only by Steve's occasional quiet sobs. It was then that she reached out her hand, placing it on his knee, a gentle but firm gesture. "I'm not going anywhere, you know that, right? You're not alone in this." Y/N says felt a chill run through her. "It's the only love we have," she said softly, and it's still valid." A faint ghost of a smile ripped through his tears as he wiped his face with the cuffs of his sweater.

"But I don't want you to feel like you have to put on a brave face," she murmured, her heart pounding. "It's okay to be broken. You don't have to go through this alone."

"I feel so lost," he confessed, her voice broken again. "What do I do now?"

"Take it one day at a time," Y/N replied, her heart breaking for him. "You let yourself grieve. You let yourself feel everything: the anger, the sadness, even the joy of memories. And when you're ready, you can start to heal."

Steve looked at her, and for a moment the heaviness lightened, if only a little. "Thank you, Y/N," he said, in a firmer voice. "You always know what to say."

"Not always," he admitted, with a sweet smile on his lips. "Only when it's about you."

"What if I can't get over this?"

Y/N leaned closer, their knees brushing. "You will, Steve. Just like you fought for everything else. You have friends who care about you, who want to help you. Lean on us." He nodded, but uncertainty hovered in his eyes. The truth was stark; he was afraid.

After a few beats, it was his turn to unleash his feelings. "And ... you don't have to pretend with me," she murmured, "about your father or how you feel. This is a safe place, okay?" He inhaled sharply, studying her face. "What if I want to pretend everything is okay?"

"Then we can pretend together."

A moment passed; their gazes met, understanding flowed silently between them. It was a moment of connection that was full of hope, even in the midst of pain. Steve's brown eyes shone with a potential nuance: something unspoken that hovered beautifully in the air between them. They stayed like that for a while: an embrace, a clinging to each other's presence. Outside, the world continued to struggle with the weight of their shared loss, but in those moments, they both began to feel a glimmer of warmth; a reminder that in the deepest despair, the bonds of friendship could shine brightly enough to illuminate the path ahead, even if that path was shrouded in uncertainty.

[redrose10]

Here is the smut side story that goes with this short story from the picture game.

It’s been a looonnngggg time since I’ve written smut and I’m sure it shows. I hope it’s not too bad though.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, body insecurities, general sex stuff nothing too crazy, crying after sex, everything is consensual

Dinner had been simple and light, not wanting to weigh yourself down. The conversation was fun with lots of smiles and laughter. It felt like old times which you and Yoongi were slowly getting back to. You were moving back into your once shared home bit by bit. Mae was taking all the changes surprisingly well but you really think it helps that she gets to see her daddy almost every day again so she didn’t really care about much else.

You’d gone to a couple therapy sessions with Yoongi and it was very beneficial to you both. You wished you’d gone sooner. His therapist loved the idea of slowly trying to introduce intimacy back into your lives. Which is what you did.

It started with Yoongi using his mouth and fingers to pleasure you on a couple occasions. You always felt terrible that he would never let you return the favor but he assured you he was okay doing without and you understood why so you never pushed him more than just offering.

But a couple weeks ago his doctor switched up his medicine to something new which was supposed to have fewer or lighter side effects. You didn’t want to rush him so you waited until he was ready and last night he asked if your parents would mind taking Mae for a night. He also asked you to bring over that one lingerie set. You played it cool but internally you were screaming with excitement.

And now here you were staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Instead of wearing the old piece you decided to start fresh and buy something new. You chuckled, not because of the way you looked or anything since Yoongi had been working double time to make sure you got your confidence back, but because you couldn’t believe the amount of money you paid for something with such little fabric.

It was weird feeling so nervous to have sex with your husband who you also had a child with so this wasnt anything new. You two used to rip each others clothes off and get right to it but now it felt so foreign and different.

You tied your robe shut and turned off the bathroom light.

Yoongi was sitting on the edge of the bed staring off into space. You knew he was already in his head, probably criticizing himself for things that didn’t even happen yet.

When he heard the door click shut he looked over and smiled.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you in-front of him to stand between his legs, “Come here baby.” You did as he said, starting to run your fingers through his hair to comfort him.

“I’m so nervous.”, he chuckled as he toyed with the string of your robe.

“It’s okay. I am too. But remember that it’s just me Yoongi and we’re gonna take it slow and we’ll work through it together.”

He leaned into your touch loving the way your hands felt on him.

His fingers had a slight shake to them as he pulled a little harder on the string.

“C-Can I?”, he asked.

You nodded, “Please.”

In one movement he pulled on the string releasing the hold it had on your robe. You shimmied your shoulders allowing the silk to slide down to the floor revealing the light blue lace and sheer fabric that adorned your body underneath it.

You felt self conscious and started to worry but any doubts you had were banished when Yoongi’s hands grabbed onto your hips giving them a light squeeze. He licked his lips as he looked you over once again. “Y/N you’re gorgeous and mine, all mine, all for me.”, you heard him mumbling as he placed sloppy kisses over the fabric, surprising you when his teeth lightly grazed your right nipple.

Slowly he helped you out of what you were wearing, his eyes not leaving you once.

“Umm something seems off about this situation right now.”, you giggled while pulling on the sleeve of his t-shirt since he was still fully clothed.

He helped you pull off the fabric tossing it aside before he lifted up so you could pull off the sweats he had been wearing leaving him in just his boxers.

Feverishly you leaned back in searching for his lips. Yoongi pulled you on top of him as he laid back on the bed. You straddled him trying to remember every touch and every spot that would get him going. Things started falling into place.

Your lips started on his neck sucking little bits before slowly trailing down his chest to his stomach and then just below his belly button.

You ran your tongue against the fabric of his boxers feeling him half hard but it got a reaction from him so you did it again this time with a little more pressure.

He moaned your name giving you confidence. You hooked a finger around the waistband of his shorts pulling them down and freeing his large cock that you hadn’t seen in ages. You had forgotten just how beautiful your husband was, every inch of him.

He wasn’t quite there yet but you were determined to bring him to full erection. You placed kisses on his thighs knowing that he liked to be teased. Your kisses turned into little licks that got closer and closer until you surprised him by taking him fully in your mouth. He groaned as his hips bucked up to meet your mouth. Slowly but steadily you bobbed your head up and down on his cock making sure to pay extra attention to the head just like he always liked.

You made sure to even reach up and give his balls a light squeeze knowing that usually increased his pleasure. After several minutes of this he was no harder than when you started.

Trying your best to mask your disappointment you leaned back to catch your breath while still stroking him with your hand.

You tried to go back in with your mouth but he stopped you, “Just forget it Y/N. It’s not going to happen.”

“Yoongs it’s okay. Don’t get upset. Let’s just take a break and we can try again. We have all night.”, you said trying to salvage the situation.

But he pulled on his shorts and walked out of the room leaving you there naked and alone.

Giving him a few minutes you slowly slid on his shirt that he had been wearing and walked out to find him. He was sat on the couch staring at the blank television.

When you got closer he finally looked up at you, “I’m sorry Y/N, I’m sorry I can’t be there for you in the ways you need me to be.”

You sighed feeling frustrated. Frustrated with yourself, frustrated with him for feeling like that, frustrated at the situation.

Gently you leaned him back against the couch and you straddled his lap. You were going to take charge and try things your way.

“Yoongi you’re thinking too much about it. You need to just relax and let your body feel.”, you mumbled into his lips while simultaneously grinding down on his soft cock. You could feel your arousal soaking through his shorts, “And even if we don’t get there tonight I’m perfectly happy just being close to you like this.”

Your words seemed to calm him and his body started to relax back into the couch.

With more force you pushed your wet cunt down on him harder this time while using the friction to get yourself off.

Yoongi’s hands were roaming your body until they settled on your hips helping to hold you down. He always had a thing for letting you use him as you pleased.

“Mmm baby, I don’t even need you inside me. I can cum just like this.”, you moaned in his ear.

He took the hem of the shirt you were wearing and pulled it over you throwing it across the room with force. You laughed until his mouth connected harshly with your left nipple while his large hands squeezed your breast together making a moan escape you.

His hips bucked up encouraging you to continue chasing your high when you felt his bulge growing. He was the hardest he’d been all night. Not wanting to draw attention to it you continued to grind down on him just like you had been. His shorts now soaked with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum.

“Do you trust me?”, you whispered in his ear before nibbling on the lobe.

“Mmhm with my life.”

You continued your movements until he was a mess under you and rock hard.

You lifted your hips up far enough that you could quickly move his shorts down freeing his red swollen cock allowing it to stand straight up. Before he could react you sunk down on him talking all of him in one shot.

The pain was immediately replaced by pleasure as you willingly accepted the familiar girth.

“Oh fuck”, he hissed feeling your warmth and wetness for the first time in over a year.

You gave it another moment for you both to adjust before you began to bounce up and down on his length.

Yoongi was a moaning cursing mess. His head rolling back with his mouth agape. His eyes squeezed shut as he soaked in the sensations and sounds around him. You took the moment to plant kisses along his jaw when he lunged forwarded capturing your lips with his instead.

You were trying your hardest to make sure he enjoyed this moment to the fullest. Using his shoulders for leverage you started bouncing up and down more aggressively letting his cock fully slip out of you before sheathing yourself again. The position giving Yoongi the one of the best views he’s ever seen between your body sliding up and down on his painfully hard erection and your boobs bouncing inches from his face. That combined with the sounds you were making were blissful and he found himself nearly finishing by surprise.

He gasped grabbing a hold of his cock to prevent you from slamming back down on it.

“Fuck sorry Y/N, I nearly came.”, he said out of breath.

You giggled giving him a few kisses before he removed his hand allowing you slip his cock back inside. Once again you began your movements but this time his hands clung to your waist, “Y/N go slow, please. I-I can’t last much longer. It’ll be even less if you keep this up.”, he panted.

“It’s okay Yoongs. Let go whenever you’re ready. I’ve got you.”, you said giving his shoulder a squeeze.

You obliged for a little though. Wanting to keep the feeling of him finally being inside you. You moved slowly, both of you watching as he slid in an out of you.

You started to pick up the pace again though. Your own high was close and you knew he was even closer. You could feel the way he twitched inside, his grip on your waist getting tighter, the concentration on this face as he tried to fight it. Skin on skin and ragged breathing the only sounds in the room.

“Y/N. I…I can’t. You have to stop. I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.”, he cried into your chest.

“Then cum for me. I want to make you feel good. Fill me up baby. I know you want to.”

And that was the final push he needed.

He came inside you with a loud pornographic moan, his body shaking as you continued to ride him through his high wanting him to feel euphoric.

Somehow he still managed to bring his hand to your clit rubbing figure eights and willing himself through the over stimulation as you continued to ride him through your own high as well.

He leaned his forehead against your chest and you placed a kiss on the top of his head.

“Was that okay?.” you asked.

“Y/N, that was more than okay.”, he chuckled.

Both of you stayed like that for a minute because you were exhausted but also just genuinely enjoyed the intimacy that had been missing for so long.

“Thank you…thank you for not giving up on me.”, he sniffled and you realized he was crying.

“Don’t thank me. We’re in this together. No matter what. Everything will be okay.”, you said wiping away his tears with your thumbs.

He kissed you, “I love you Y/N, I love you so much.”

You kissed him again and again making sure he knew you loved him too.

[cosmiccrushes]

Truth & Lies

Solas x Lavellan

1k words

I'm obsessed with the idea of Solas watching lavellan in her dreams, like ugh, the s u f f e r i n g

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He knows she dreams of this cove and its soft green meadows often. For he waits in its shadows for her return. Beckoning her to walk in this place where they once stood together. Where he had looked upon the markings on her face and told her what it meant, lying about how he knew. Meaning to tell her a different truth and lying to himself about why he could not.

So much lying. And still too much truth. 

Solas had a plan. He really did. It was with painful, teeth gritting stubbornness that he had forced himself to maintain that plan when Corypheus fell and the Breach was sealed. He had left her. She was a threat to his plans. Lie. What she made him feel, that was the real threat. Truth. 

The people needed him still. He could not let one Dalish elf change that. No matter how beautiful he found her piercing green eyes. No matter how his heart squeezed at her openness and curiosity. No matter how he felt his beliefs waver in her presence when she spoke with such passion and protectiveness for this world and those in it. No matter the pride she held towards her Dalish kin. She did not really know what could be, what had been. 

Solas knew what must be done. Knew it every time he let his lips press to hers. Still he had held on. She had made it so hard to let go. Her wanting of him made him yearn. He wished he could simply be an outcast- just an elf who saw the world differently with no real power to do anything about it. But he was not that elf. He was power and potential. The Dread Wolf. He Who Hunts Alone. A false god of betrayal and rebellion. His rebellion was not yet over. Nor it seemed, was his betrayal. 

He knew her learning his truth would hurt. What he had not been prepared for was the doubt that crept in like a fog settling over his eyes, clouding his vision forward. Looking into her eyes, clear and bright with unshed tears, as he finally gave her the truth of who she shared her heart with…it had not just been painful for him- it had felt wrong. 

She had pleaded with him. “Var lath vir suledin!” Our love will endure. His reply, “I wish it could, vhenan.” He really did. But he knew in that moment- when his arms ached to hold her and his weary bones longed to lay with her and forget his responsibilities- their love could not endure. He must rip her out of his heart or rip his whole heart out of him if she could not be removed from it as he feared. He could not afford to feel doubt for what must be done. He could not allow these feelings for her to continue and plague his mind with wrongness for what comes next. 

So he had turned away from her. Taking a last kiss and then her arm, because even in his conviction that she was a threat to his plans, he could not bear to see her suffer. The anchor was killing her and the thought of her dead burned like fire inside his veins. Nevermind that when he was through with his objective, she might be dead anyway. No, his jaw hardened at that thought. She would survive. She had to survive. The new world would need people like her.

He needed her.

But no, that thought was forbidden now- a dark magic he did not dare to wield. A truth he must bury away under a mountain of lies.

She would live- and when he was done she would see- this way was better, this was setting the world right.

Those first months after they parted had been hard, but not impossible he found. He could force himself not to think of her and it worked. Until it didn’t. Until he lay awake at night, thinking of a different bed and a midnight when he didn’t feel so terribly alone. 

The first time she appeared to him in his Fade-dreamed version of their cove, he had not considered how dangerous it was for him to visit this once shared space. Coming here, he had allowed himself to once more indulge in his selfishness, indulge in the memory of what another world could have been like. One where she existed as more than the ghost of fingerprints on his skin. 

Had her name, whispered into his dreams, led her here? Had she brought herself? She had been resolute at their parting that she would not give up on him. So he had been resolute in giving up on her. I would not have you see what I become, he had told her. Truth.

But here she was- haunting his dreams.

He had reacted quickly, hiding himself away before she noticed his presence fully. Then he watched. He knew he should not, but he did anyway. A man dying of thirst, now drowning in an ocean. After that first night, he welcomed the flood. Soaked in its waters. If he could not cast her out of his heart, he could at least contain her in this cove of fantasy and possibility. The him who existed on these shores need not exist elsewhere. He could look upon his heart- know she was safe and far away from the Dread Wolf and the Din'anshiral he walked. 

So yes, he knows she dreams of this meadow often. Knows she has caught glimpses of him. Knows that if he seeks her out as he walks the Fade, she will find him. Knows that she searches for him. Knows that he should not encourage it. Lies to himself that it is okay like this, that he can be okay like this, watching her from afar. 

Var lath vir suledin.

At least this is the lie he allows himself to believe when he slips into dreaming at night, imagining a weight pressed to his chest and his arms winding around the greatest truth he has ever known. 

I wish it could, vhenan. Truth. 

My love…I will never forget you. Truth.

So much lying. And still too much truth. 

[jaikoyaki]

Kim Minji x 6thMember!reader moments

➮Minji likes teasing you.

!NOT PROOFREAD!

PHONING LIVE:03/28/24

"Y/N, can you tell us more jokes?" Hanni read out a fan's comment with her usual lively tone, switching effortlessly into English. You were sitting between her and Minji, your bodies partially visible on the live stream, but the fans couldn’t quite see everything.

"Please no!" Hanni exclaimed dramatically, even though the playful grin on her face gave away her amusement. She leaned back, clearly trying to escape the inevitable.

"Yes! Wait, let me think of one!" You beamed, delighted that someone actually requested your jokes. It wasn’t often you got to share your brilliance with the world, after all. Plus your jokes didn’t get enough appreciation—at least that’s what you always told yourself.

"Nooooo! I don’t wanna hear another one of your corny dumb jokes!" Hanni groaned, throwing her head back for effect as if the idea of another pun was too much for her to handle. Her exaggerated reaction made Minji laugh softly beside you, her shoulders shaking with quiet amusement. You couldn’t help but smile at Hanni’s dramatic antics.

You rolled your eyes at Hanni’s exaggerated reaction but couldn’t stop smiling. "Hey, my jokes aren’t dumb!" You nudged Hanni with a playful push to her arm. "My jokes are very funny and clever, thank you very much!"

"I think they’re cute," Minji suddenly chimed in, her voice soft but sincere. She glanced at you with an amused but affectionate look, her lips curling into a small smile.

Your heart skipped a beat at Minji’s words, and you turned to Hanni with a victorious grin. "See! Minji unnie thinks they’re cute!" you declared, as if that settled the argument once and for all.

Hanni, never one to back down, smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but she didn’t say they weren’t dumb and corny, though," she pointed out, her eyes widening innocently as she added, "Just saying."

You gasped dramatically, playfully glaring at her. "Shut up." you laughed, swatting her arm, but the teasing was all in good fun.

You turned back to Minji, who had been silently watching the exchange with an amused expression. You knew how to get her on your side. Looking up at her with your biggest, most irresistible puppy-dog eyes, you pouted slightly. "They’re not corny, right, unnie?" you asked, your voice soft and sweet, almost pleading.

Minji glanced at you and immediately felt her resolve weakening. The sight of your pleading eyes and that small pout was almost too much for her. *Why do they have to be so cute?* she thought, fighting the urge to smile too widely. Her eyes briefly flickered away from you, cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

"Ah…" she hesitated, her cheeks flushing lightly. She was losing her composure, and it was painfully obvious.

Before you could press her further, Minji quickly turned to the camera, changing the subject in an attempt to save herself. "Have you all been doing well?" she asked the fans, her voice gentle and calming as she tried to refocus on them.

Hanni burst into laughter, immediately catching on to Minji’s tactics, while you let out an exasperated whine, leaning into Minji’s arm. "Don’t change the subject!" you pouted, tugging gently on her sleeve.

But Minji, still flustered, continued to talk to the fans, clearly pretending she didn’t hear you. "We ate jap chae earlier," she answered another fan’s question, nodding as if nothing had happened.

"Whatever…" you muttered, playfully sulking as you leaned closer to the phone, reading the comments to distract yourself. Your eyes scanned the screen, then you paused at one of the questions. "Where is Y/N sitting? I only see two chairs," you read aloud, your heart racing a little at the realization.

Minji, remained calm, though you could feel her body tense slightly next to you. Hanni, on the other hand, noticed the comment immediately and grinned like a cat who’d just spotted a mouse. She was about to say something when you suddenly blurted out, "Uhh… what kind of shoes do frogs wear?" You rushed to change the subject, trying to deflect attention from the fact that you were sitting on Minji’s lap the entire time.

"Open toa-" Before you could finish your joke, Hanni reacted quickly. "Nooo!" she gasped, half-laughing as she reached over to clamp her hand over your mouth, stopping you mid-joke. "We do not need more of your corny jokes right now." she exclaimed dramatically, laughing as she did so.

The sudden movement made you wobble slightly, but Minji’s grip on your waist instantly tightened, steadying you before you could fall forward. The warmth of her hands and the solid feel of her hold made your heart flutter, even as you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

Minji, for her part, stayed quiet, her face calm but her ears tinged with pink. Her grip on your waist hadn’t loosened, and you could feel the way her fingers gently brushed against your side, almost absentmindedly. You glanced up at her, catching the slight blush on her cheeks as she looked straight ahead, trying to act nonchalant. But the way her eyes flickered told you she was just as flustered as you were.

PHONING LIVE: 02/20/24

“I’m not great at winking, but Haerin is really—” Minji’s sentence was cut off by a series of soft knocks on the door.

“Unnie, have you seen my headphones?” a muffled voice called out, and the door creaked open slightly, revealing you peeking in with just half of your face visible. Your eyes quickly found Minji, who was wearing a familiar pair of headphones—your headphones.

“Minji,” you whispered softly, careful not to disrupt the live stream. "hm?" Minji glanced at you briefly, her gaze flicking back to the camera as she continued talking to the bunnies.

You stepped closer, a playful pout forming on your lips. “Unnie, those are my headphones. Can I please have them back?”

Minji, ever the picture of composure, pulled one ear of the headphones off just enough to hear you better. With mock innocence, she looked up at you and blinked. “Oh, these headphones?” She gestured vaguely to them, her voice full of playful disbelief. “You mean these?”

You nodded, crossing your arms dramatically. “Yes, those headphones. You borrowed them, like, a week ago.”

Minji leaned back in her chair, the wheels creaking slightly as she put on her most innocent expression. “They’re really comfy. I’ve kind of gotten attached to them.” She then looked at you closely, her eyes trailing down to the oversized hoodie you were wearing. “And speaking of borrowing things,” she tilted her head, “isn’t that my hoodie you’re wearing?”

You glanced down at the soft fabric enveloping you, then back up at Minji with a sheepish grin. “Uh, maybe? I was cold!” you admitted with a small giggle, pulling the hoodie’s sleeves over your hands for emphasis. “And it’s super cozy. Besides, you’re always stealing my stuff too, so it’s only fair.”

Minji turned back to the camera with a lighthearted tone. “See, Bunnies? This is how Y/N shows her love—by raiding my wardrobe!” She glanced at you, gesturing in your direction with her hand, her expression softening. “But, you do look cute in it. It suits you.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you quickly brushed it off, rolling your eyes. “Thanks, But I still want my headphones back. Pleeease?” you added with an exaggerated, dramatic plea, dragging the word out like a toddler begging for candy

Minji let out a soft chuckle before pulling off the headphones and holding them out to you. “Alright, But you owe me one. I’ll expect my hoodie back soon, or else.”

You laughed, the sound mingling with hers, and rolled your eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll get your hoodie back… someday. Maybe,” you whispered with a teasing lilt, before dashing out of the room. You knew she’d probably invite you to join the live, but all you really wanted was to collapse onto your bed and enjoy some music

My friend helped me think of prompts because I mentally cannot think of one</3

[marlynnofmany]

Anyone else just look around the room for story ideas, applying a bit of speculative fiction possibilities, and instantly find something?

The first object my eyes fell upon was the saltshaker that has a googly eye carefully placed on it. Adhesive googly eyes being magic has VAST potential as a story idea.

Also it's on the table next to a bunch of purple arrows, in front of the tree trunk we just painted on the wall.

I'm not sure where this story is going exactly, but I'm excited to find out.

[arsenicflame]

steddyhands modern au inspired by this post:

(1828 words, themes of kink but nothing explicit, established blackhands & gentlebeard-centric. Happy Pride!)

Stede picks up leatherworking in the wake of his divorce. He's not exactly sure how it ended up being such an important hobby for him, only that he had always admired the intricate designs on his horse's best bridles, and with little else to do with his time, he decides to give it a go.

It's rocky going at first, but he's having fun working with his hands for the first time in his life, and there's a sense of satisfaction in seeing the design come to life as he works. With practice, his skills improve, and he learns how to make things that are truly one of a kind.

He starts off posting his pieces online, as a way to reach fellow enthusiasts, but quickly finds himself with a rather large audience. Stede’s style is unique, and, after many requests from his followers, Lucius encourages him to make some more basic pieces he can sell. It's not about making money for Stede, but another way to meet new people who share his interests- as Lucius keeps telling him, it's sad that his personal assistant is the main person he talks to these days. 

So Stede sets out on a new adventure, and has quite the time designing a new range of patterns for the market. He makes purses, belts, bracelets, and, most importantly, dog collars- all still with his unique designs embossed into them, of course. He rents a booth at his towns monthly craft fair, and very quickly finds himself with a new group of friends in the other regulars- Pete, his usual neighbour, who sells an array of wooden figures he carves, Roach, who runs a stand for his bakery, and Frenchie, who isn't actually a stallholder, but is almost always busking near his friend Wee John’s stand of knitted goods, bringing life to the market even in the pouring rain. There's also Buttons, another regular at the market. Nobody is exactly sure what he does there- he doesn't sell things, or seem to buy anything either, but rain or shine, he's there with the birds.

Stede’s been doing this a few months by the time June rolls around. As he's setting up his stand, he notices that the area is much busier than it’d normally be at this time of morning. Lucius, who got roped into helping run Stede’s stall somewhere down the line (despite his protests that this is not what personal assistant means… But hey, he got a boyfriend out of it, at least), reminds him that there's the parade today, too- not realising that Stede had no clue there was a parade today, and especially not that it was pride. Stede immediately jumps to fretting about the amount of stock he’s brought, and Lucius takes the cue to escape, saying he’ll go and grab them coffee (but really, he's off to flirt with Pete)

Lucius is still missing when Ed stumbles across the little leather stall. Stede’s just ran back to his car to fetch his last boxes of inventory, and by the time he returns, Ed’s already begun to narrow down his choices. Stede greets him, starting to tell him that they're not actually open yet, but before he gets more than a couple of words out, Ed’s exclaiming “You're a Kiwi!!!”

The two of them smile at the shared recognition, and Stede says he’ll make an exception, just for Ed, and asks him what exactly he was interested in. Ed tells him that he's looking for a collar “for his boy”, and points out the particular design he was looking at. It happens to be one of Stede’s favourites from this latest run of work, a fact he mentions to Ed. It leads them into a discussion about Stede’s craft, and Ed’s Izzy, and then everything in between. Ed’s listening intently to the things Stede’s telling him, completely drawn in by the process, and by Stede himself. He watches as Stede stamps Izzy's name into the collar, and Stede even lets him have a go at one of the stamps. 

Lucius reappears sometime in the middle of this- only to immediately retreat again, seeing Stede engrossed with Ed. He sets up camp at Pete's booth opposite, watching this man flirt intensely with his boss- and Stede flirt back just as hard. Does Stede even realise he’s doing it? Lucius had known Stede was gay since before Stede even admitted it to himself, but this is on a whole other level.

The pair stand there so long that Izzy comes to look for Ed- the two of them are manning a float on the parade with their crew, and it's past time for them to get geared up. He's already worked up, frustrated to have been left to set up everything alone, when Ed had just gone to see if he could get them both coffee. So maybe he's a bit of a prick, approaching with a brash “where the fuck have you been, Edward”, to which Stede brings the same energy, giving a bitchy “Ed! Do you know this guy?” Izzy tenses, ready to snap, but then Ed cuts in, excitedly telling Stede that this is “his Izzy!” Which confuses the hell out of Stede. 

Forgetting his earlier attitude, he asks Ed if he “really named his dog after his friend”, only to be met with confusion right back from Ed at where the hell Stede got the idea he had a dog from. Stede gestures at the bag with the collar in it, to which Ed has to tell him, “oh, no, that's for him.” Ed tells Stede that they're here to run a float for their local leather society, and while Stede is certainly shocked by what Ed’s saying, he's not finding himself… uninterested. It's simply that he’s never even considered any of this before, especially not that people would use the things that he made for this, but Ed sounds so enthusiastic about it all. He tells him about how his friends would love to see Stede’s work, about how classic leather gear is always so fucking boring- but not Stede’s stuff, no, Stede’s stuff is “fresh” and “fascinating” and unlike anything Ed’s ever seen before. 

Ed's enthusiasm is incredibly infectious, so when he invites Stede to come back to see their float, he readily agrees. It’s a concept Izzy’s less than enthusiastic about. He doesn’t really want to bring this man who’s dressed like he just walked out of a HOA board meeting to their kinky little corner of the world, but he is having a lot of fun watching Stede squirm, so decides not to raise a protest. He does demand he gets his long-overdue coffee first, though (Stede pays for it- as “compensation for him distracting Ed from his job”, he says, not giving Izzy a second to process before he's tapping his card)

By the time they return to the float, Fang, Ivan & Jim are waiting for them, all already geared up. Stede is stunned silent at the sight for about 5 seconds, before he starts actually looking at the quality of Jim’s harness, and proceeds to go off about the poor quality of the craftsmanship, about how the hardware is tacky and completely the wrong choice with this leather, how his “ten year old daughter could do a better job!!!” 

There's complete silence from the group, until Izzy, of all people, bursts into laughter at Stede’s audacity (and, the fact he was staring at Jim's tits completely unabashedly, like he hadn't even noticed them in the first place). Izzy's laughter sets Ed off as he tells the group about Stede’s misunderstanding- “you didn't say he was a person!” “I mean, he's my dog”- and soon everyone's having a friendly giggle at Stede’s mistake.

It's somewhere in the middle of the retelling that Ed remembers that this whole thing happened because he was buying Izzy a gift. After a moments fumbling, he presents Izzy with the collar-  It's a rich, deep black, embossed with a rolling pattern that resembles waves. It’s made from a firm enough leather to take the tooling, and to remind Izzy that he’s owned while he’s wearing it, yet still soft enough for long term comfort. Izzy's eyes immediately lock on to it, an unreadable expression coming over his face, and Ed turns it; first so he can really see the design and Izzy’s name embossed into it, and then so he can see the small “Ed ♥” on the inside of the collar, right over his swallow tattoo. 

“I did the heart,” Ed says to him softly, intended only for Izzy’s ears. Izzy's eyes flick up to Ed’s, and he raises his chin to give Ed the room to put it on. Ed buckles the collar around his neck almost reverently, a test of the tightness turning into a caress of Izzy's neck. It's a perfect fit.

It's as though something comes over Izzy; so twitchy and abrasive earlier, now silent, staring at Ed with a look akin to worship in his eyes. He obediently tilts his head for a kiss as Ed's fingers move to his chin- It's a sight to behold, and one that has Stede intrigued. He wants to know more about this lifestyle, and these men in particular. He wants to be the one to put that expression on Izzy's face.

The moment breaks as Ed and Izzy pull apart, and Ed calls for the crew to finish the last bits of set up. Izzy shakes himself a little before running off to bark orders again, but even still, there remains a softness to him that wasn't there before. 

Ed turns back to Stede with an apologetic smile, already obvious that he has to get going. Before he can speak, however, Stede jumps in -“My business numbers on the card in the box… I'll be around all day”- Ed’s smile turns more genuine at that, promising to stop by if he gets a moment, and that he’ll send his friend's Stede’s way- “if he wants that kind of business.” Stede says that he does, actually- that he's seen a whole new world already today, and, while he was a little taken aback at first, he can feel the passion Ed and his friends have for this life. If there's one thing that's ever mattered to Stede, it's other people's enthusiasm. Maybe he doesn't completely understand yet, but he would like to try.

One year later, Stede’s back at the market on pride weekend again, far better stocked for the crowds this time around. Lucius is finally free to spend the day flirting with Fang & Pete to his heart's content, now that Stede’s roped his own boyfriends into helping him run the stall- and into modelling the merchandise. Ed loves that part, while Izzy needs a lot more convincing, but the puppy eyes Stede & Ed weaponise against him make a very good argument.