#I love Neon's top especially

[mysticbatillustration]

I've been wanting to draw the Geats quartet but wasn't sure what to have them wear and then remembered I liked those DGP outfits they had in like eps 5 & 6.

[finelinefae]

flower [tattooH x Innocenty/n]

synopsis: harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop. 

word count: 8.6k

content warnings: smut (fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, virgin Y/N) 

read part 2 here

my first imagine !! i hope u enjoy it !! i enjoy it here very much !

. . .

Y/N had been having a terrible week.

She owned a flower shop called 'Sweet Juniper' which had been hers for almost an entire year. It had been her dream to share her love of flowers with everybody so when she finally saved enough money to set up a shop, she worked tirelessly to make it the best possible floral shop the town had ever seen.

People would put in special requests if they needed flower arrangements for special occasions or others would just come by to just lift their mood a little bit if they were having a tough day. Y/N loved her customers and spent so much time chatting throughout the day all whilst tending to her plants.

But this week was not fun.

The shop next door had been empty for a long time now - ever since Y/N had set up shop. She lived in the flat above the shop so it was ideal not to have to handle any neighbours. But the past few weeks, decorators and construction workers had been making a lot of noise - fixing up the empty shop - which meant someone was moving in.

Y/N hadn't met them yet so she wasn't sure what the shop next door would be. The town was relatively quiet so she expected a bakery or maybe a clothing boutique. Only yesterday, with the shop all set up and ready to go, she found it to be nothing of the sort.

It was dark and music pulsed through the walls of her flower shop. The heavy bass made it sound like someone was trying to fight their way through the floorboards she had painted a very, very light pink.

Her customers had complained especially the older bunch. They had trouble concentrating whenever they tried to talk to her or hear her advice on what the best flowers were during the current autumn season.

So after a not-so-fun week and frequent visits to the corner shop to top up her headache medication, Y/N made the decision to confront her new neighbour and tell them exactly how she felt. She wasn't going to let her flower shop fail because of an inconsiderate, noisy fool.

Y/N flipped the sigh from 'open' to 'closed' and took off her apron which had her name in swirly handwriting embroidered onto the breast pocket. She took three deep breaths and mentally went through her speech. She wouldn't be unkind but she would be fair.

"You can do this Y/N," She said to herself before she exhaled and opened the door to walk five steps over to her next-door neighbour.

She hadn't seen the shop properly since the decorating was completed so was immediately struck by how dark it was in comparison to her own shop. It was painted black with illustrations and pictures of people's tattoos set up in the shop window.

The pavement was lit up in the darkness by the red neon lights coming from inside the shop. Everything about it was so different to her baby pink and white flower shop.

The sudden thought of turning back and going upstairs to her apartment almost tempted her enough to turn away but she knew the problem would not be resolved if she were to sit by and do nothing.

Her Mary Jane heels tapped against the pavement as she came to stand in front of the door. It seemed as though the shop was still open, so she pushed the door and stepped inside.

The smell of tobacco and musk and ink hit her senses as she closed the door behind her. The heavy bass of the music was now pounding through her ears. The nerves were rising within her and turning back seemed much more tempting now.

She spun on her heel and reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by someone clearing their throat.

"Are you here for a tattoo?" His voice was deep, husky and... pretty.

She turned around and was met with a tall figure standing in the doorway to the back of the shop. His arms were by his side and he was wearing a black, fitted shirt with black trousers and low cut doc martens with red laces. His face was illuminated by the red, neon sign on the wall with the words 'Styles INK' written in a grungey font.

"T-tattoo?" She gulped, the script she had rehearsed over and over again was nowhere to be found like the words had silently fallen from her brain, through her nose and slipped from her mouth before she had time to speak them out loud.

He walked to the front desk, footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. "We don't take walk-ins this late at night if that's what you're after."

The tone of his voice made her tremble in her heels. She curled her fingers into a fist and tried to stop her heart from beating so fast. "I-I'm not here for a tattoo. I-I'm actually from next door."

His head lifted up, she could finally see the colour of his eyes were a pale green and his hair was curly and brunette. "Ahhh," He dropped the pen he was fiddling with on the desk, "The flower girl."

She huffed, "Yes, that would be me."

"M allergic to flowers." He said.

"W-what? Why would you set up shop next to a flower shop then?" She asked.

"Only place that offered a space with an apartment." A breath slipped past her lips.

He was not only her shop neighbour but her neighbour neighbour too.

Well, this just made things a bit more awkward.

He came in front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. Y/N saw every inch of the skin on his arm littered with tattoos and even caught a glimpse of his ring-clad fingers. "Listen, if you're not here for a tattoo then why are you here? I need to close up so I'd appreciate it if you were quick with whatever it is you came here for."

Y/N swallowed her nerves, "Your music is too loud a-and it's driving my customers away."

"What was that?" He wanted her to repeat herself.

"Y-Your music, it's much too loud and my customers are c-complaining." She wished she didn't stutter but at least she got what she needed to say out.

"My music?" His eyebrows scrunch up.

"Yes." She nods.

"What about your music?" He retorts, "s all I can hear when I'm upstairs."

She immediately blushes and wonders how long he has been staying in the apartment upstairs. Y/N was so used to not having neighbours that she hadn't thought to turn her music down or take a break from her lonesome karaoke nights.

"That's different."

"If I have to hear you sing to that broken-hearted, bubble-gum pop princess every night then you can't complain about me playing my music like I have." He argues.

"B-but I don't play it in the day like you do! It's so loud! It is - hey quit laughing!" She huffs when he snickers at her.

"M sorry, you're just so little." He laughs. "Maybe that's why I haven't seen you since I've moved in."

Y/N crossed her arms, "I'd just appreciate it if you turned your music down a little, just so my customers can shop for their flowers in peace."

He says nothing. Instead, his eyes scan her face and then fall on the rest of her. She was wearing light blue jeans and a pink, cosy sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a white, silk ribbon and her heels were still on her now aching feet.

He smirks, "Alright, I'll turn my music down but you have to do the same. I don't want to hear you sing about Romeo and Juliet or running out of the woods at 11 o'clock at night when I'm trying to relax."

She turns pink but luckily the red light hides the true colour of her cheeks, "Fine." She huffs and turns on her heel, too embarassed to say anything else.

"It was nice to meet you, flower." He says and she swears she can hear him smiling.

Her entire face heats at the nickname.

***

The next day, Y/N walked downstairs to her flower shop and prepared for a new day. She spent the rest of her night after visiting the stranger next door, quietly listening to music in hopes he would reciprocate today.

She hadn't seen him since last night and part of her was grateful for that. He was tall and intimidating and covered in tattoos but his voice was just so...nice that she couldn't seem to get the thought of him out of her head since she walked out of his tattoo shop. It was embarrassing to admit and Y/N was awfully bad at hiding her emotions so she hoped that would be the last time she'd speak to him face to face.

When she flipped the sign on the door to 'open', she held her breath as she waited for the sound of heavy, rock music coming through the walls only to find complete silence. She smiled and mindfully tapped herself on the back for being brave enough to go over and stand her ground.

Her customers were happy with the change too. They stayed and chatted with Y/N for a while, bringing home their baskets of flowers. The day had been much more successful than the past week had and she was thankful things would finally get back on track.

After cleaning the shop at the end of the day, she walked upstairs to her apartment and immediately decided to get into her new cute pyjamas she had ordered from Hollister - long trouser bottoms and a cute tank top both covered in the same pink, ditsy floral print.

She made herself some dinner and snuggled up on her tiny couch with her pet cat, Marshel, nestling to the side of her. Y/N hummed in delight when she made the decision to re-watch her favourite Harry Potter movie- it was the best film for the autumn weather.

Ten minutes into the movie sounds of people speaking and loud music sounded through the walls of her apartment. "Oh please no," She looked up at the ceiling, praying that someone out there would put her out of her misery.

It could only be her new neighbour, the tattoo artist, the one with the nice voice.

She pressed her ear against the door of her apartment and from the racket of people speaking and how loud the music was, she knew he was having a party.

"It's going to be a long night Marsh." She sighs, picking up her kitty and carrying him to bed.

At 2 am, Y/N was still awake. The party was still going and the music had yet to quieten down.

Y/N had been tossing and turning all night. Tears in her eyes as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the loud noises coming from next door. At this rate, she'd only get four hours of sleep before she had to be up again for the busiest day of the week at the shop.

She couldn't handle it anymore. She flipped her duvet off and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes fighting to stay open as she stumbled for the door.

At this rate, she was so tired she didn't care how she looked. She just wanted the quiet.

She flung her front door open and already found herself outside the tattoo artist's door. She knocked but the music was so loud, the only thing she could do was invite herself in.

The door opened and suddenly she was in a whole new world. There was cigarette smoke and a strong stench of alcohol. It was dark but red LED lights lit the room. People were laying on the floor or sitting around chairs or dancing in the empty spaces. There must have been about thirty people but with how tiny the apartment was it felt like much more.

Y/N took a deep breath and began her mission to find the source of where the music was coming from. Everyone was much taller than her which made it harder for her to push past people, especially in their drunken state.

"Excuse me please," she mumbled.

"Flower," his voice made her freeze in place.

She stilled and spun round on her sock-covered feet, making a mental note to throw them in the trash when she got home.

The person standing in front of her looked the same, wearing the same all black outfit he wore yesterday. She could see the illustrations of his tattoos a little better this close and she could also see the anger that covered the features of his face.

"Y-you." She said through parted lips, unable to hide her fear or shock.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a corner of the room. He placed his hand on the wall behind her and covered her with his body like he wanted to hide her away.

"The m-music it's too loud and I-I can't sleep." She said, nearing on tears.

"You and your loud music." He muttered, "It's Saturday night. Shops aren't open on a Sunday."

"Mine is." She said.

"What?"

"I open my shop on a Sunday. I do work shops for little kids whose parents have to work on weekends and for elderly people who get a little lonely." It was her favourite day of the week but now she was dreading it because of the lack of sleep.

His expression seemed to soften but he rolled his eyes, "Of course you do."

"I just need to sleep for four more hours and then you can carry on doing whatever you're doing." He smirked.

"You've never been to a party before flower girl?" She shook her head and yawned.

Harry's smile fell and he sighed. He looked around at the party and then at the sleepy girl in front of him. "Fucks sake." He muttered and wrapped an arm around her.

Y/N's eyes widened when his hand rested on her shoulder. He tucked her into his side and quickly manoeuvred past everybody.

"Is that your new girl Styles?"

"Nice one, H."

"Have fun Styles."

"Ignore them." Harry told her as he reached their front door.

"Is that your name? Styles?" Y/N realised she had yet to ask what his name actually was.

"S Harry. You call me Harry." He says and she smiles at how normal and soft his name was compared to his dark and grizzly stature.

She hadn't realised what he was doing until he opened the door to her apartment. She gasped, suddenly wide awake and highly alert considering he was now in her very messy, untidy apartment.

"W-what are you doing?" She ran to her sofa and picked her blankets up from the floor before grabbing her bowl of popcorn from the coffee table that was littered with books and magazines she was halfway through reading.

Harry's eyes darted around her small apartment. The corner of his lips flinched into an almost smile when he saw the pastel colours littered around the place. It was so her - cute and cosy.

"You wanted to sleep." He said, "M helping you sleep."

Her mouth opened and closed in shock, "Helping me sleep?"

"Mhm, I've got these," He pulled out some earbuds from his pocket, "They're noise cancelling. Can't hear a sound when you've got them in your ears."

She looked at them in intrigue, "Where's your room?" He wondered, already walking in the direction of her bedroom like he'd been in her apartment many times before.

"My room's a little untidy," She tried to get past him so she could block him from coming into her room but he was much too tall.

"Don't care flower, just helping you out." He walked into the messy bedroom and paid no mind to the state of the floor. She'd never had a man in her room before so wasn't sure exactly what to do. Her apartment seemed so much smaller from his presence alone. "Get into bed, love." He pulled out his phone.

"O-okay," She said and tucked herself under her blanket.

It was strange to let a person she barely knew into the confines of her room but she was too tired to care and something inside of her trusted him.

He crouched beside her, resting an arm on her mattress. "Here put these in," He handed her the headphones, "Can you hear me?" He asked but received no reply, instead, Y/N giggled.

"I can't hear you Harry!" She laughed and something weird happened in his chest.

He smiled, "Tha's good." He murmured and put on a song he knew she would like.

Her heart stopped beating in her chest when the gentle piano music began to play. An instrumental of 'Cardigan' by her favourite singer whispered into her ears as he played it on a low volume.

"Sleep now flower." He encouraged.

"M name's Y/N." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, "You can call me Y/N."

"Y/N," He whispered back and the name seemed to unlock something deep inside of him. He said it once more for good measure before leaving her there with the music still playing.

***

Y/N woke up the next morning with a phone that was not hers resting right by her head. She had managed to fall asleep for four hours thanks to the man who she now knew as Harry. She felt as though last night was a fever dream and Harry had been a guardian angel, granting her sleep at last.

She could have slept in for another four hours but the shop would not run itself and she had many workshops on today that a lot of people had signed up for. She grabbed Harry's phone and made a mental note to give it back to him before she went to open the shop.

She made herself a good breakfast and fed Marshel as well, before getting dressed into a grey mini dress with a cute white collar and an encrusted black bow. She tied her hair back into a half up, half down and fastened it with a black bow to match her dress. She wore the same black Mary Jane heels and a bag with her packed lunch inside.

When she left her apartment, she listened out for any loud music coming from Harry's apartment only to be met with silence. She knocked three times- his phone in her hands- but no one answered.

She'd come back later, she thought. Maybe he was also catching up on some much-needed sleep.

Her first workshop of the day was with a group of children.

Their parents worked weekends and some of them were from the orphanage that they had signed up to help them develop new hobbies. Y/N knew them all by name and loved teaching them how to grow their own tomato plants and arrange flowers with cute bows.

An hour before lunch, she had a class with a group of mothers whose children had just left home. Most of them came because they needed a little company on the weekends when not a lot was going on at home or they wanted to pick up a new hobby.

In the midst of her basket weaving session, Y/N heard a phone ring. She glanced at the phone still on the front desk and saw the screen lighting up. "Excuse me ladies," she slid off the chair and walked over to Harry's phone.

Mike Supplier was the name on the screen. She wondered whether or not it was important and if she should answer it just in case. The phone stopped ringing for a brief moment until the name lit up the screen again.

"Seems important, Y/N." One of the ladies said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and walked to the back room, pressing the green button to accept the call. "Fucking finally!" A gruff voice speaks on the other end, "I've got your stash when do you want it?"

"Excuse me?" Y/N blushed, not use to such aggressive language.

The person paused, "Are you Styles' new lady? Listen can you put him on the phone? I need to speak to him urgently."

Y/N was in shock, "I'm not his lady! I'm his neighbour."

"Well, whatever you are could you just pass the phone to him?"

"Give me a second," She huffed, entering the shop again and turning towards the ladies who were in deep conversation, "Ladies, I just need a moment to go next door." They nodded.

Y/N could hear Mike Supplier cursing over the phone even as she had it by her side. She noticed Harry's shop was still unopened so went upstairs instead.

She knocked on the door of his apartment repeatedly until she finally heard footsteps coming towards the door. His door swung open, "Can I help you flower?" Her eyes widened.

He stood in the doorway with nothing but grey sweatpants and socks. His bare torso was littered with tattoos and his brunette hair was clipped with a tiny claw clip.

"Your p-phone," She held it out to him. His eyebrows furrowed like he had a lot of questions as to why she had his phone but he took it from her anyway and held it to his ear.

"Yeah, yeah shut up." He spoke. Y/N could still hear Mike Supplier talking on the other end. "Come by this afternoon. I'll wait outside the shop and don't wear that dodgy fucking hat this time."

The conversation ended and Y/N stood awkwardly in front of him. "Well I should go,"

"Wait," Harry stopped her "Did you steal my phone from me flower girl?"

"N-no! You left it in my apartment." She argued.

"Oh yeah," he grins like he was thinking back to being in her room last night, "Your lips go all pouty and you snore when you sleep you know that? 'S cute."

"Hey," she huffed, "I do not snore!"

"Whatever you say baby." Her cheeks warmed at the new nickname he had accidentally added to the seemingly growing collection.

"W-well who was that anyway. He was a little rude." She mumbled.

"You spoke to him?" He arched a brow, "was he rude to you?"

"He swore at me,"

"Dick." Harry muttered, "He's my supplier."

"Oh like for the shop?" She asked. Harry could have sworn he was having palpitations from how innocent she looked.

"No baby," he smirked, "a different kind of supplier."

"Oh," she said, still not fully understanding what he was getting at, "Well I better get down to the shop. My class is waiting for me."

"Sure I'll come with you." He grabbed a sweater and his jacket from the coat hanger.

"Wait, what? No."

"I'm bored and I want to hang out with you." He shrugs, "I don't see how that's a problem."

"You want to hang out with me?" She couldn't make sense of it.

"Mhm," He shut the door of his apartment behind him, "Lead the way, flower girl."

Y/N argued with him as they walked back downstairs. She tried to push him out of the shop before he could even step foot inside but she was too small for his 6ft frame and he gently grabbed her waist and picked her up as if she weighed nothing, stepping into the shop.

All eyes turned in their direction. Y/N blushed and stuttered as she said, "L-ladies, this is my neighbour."

"Hi, I'm Harry." He said from behind.

The ladies looked confused and then concerned and then suddenly they were grinning ear to ear, slipping out of their seats to welcome their new guest.

"Oh Harry, you look as old as my boy! It's so lovely to meet you." Mildred, one of the elder ladies said.

"Nice to meet you too." He spoke in a warm, almost flirtatious way.

Y/N stood there in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Kathy and Lucy had already sat him in between them both and got him the things he needed to weave a basket.

"Are you interested in flowers Harry?" Julia asked.

He looked across the table over at Y/N whose cheeks seemed to be a shade of red they'd never even been before. "Only one."

"Oh well Y/N's an excellent teacher. We're making hanging baskets to plant daffodils in them for the spring."

"Hmm I guess I've come to the best place to learn then." His eyes remained fixed on Y/N who defeatedly picked up her basket to show Harry exactly how to make one himself.

"How are you so good at this?" Y/N whispered in awe as Harry finished his basket.

"These hands are good with fiddly things." He says.

"Oh that's wonderful Harry!" Kathy exclaimed, "You could take over Y/N's job. Might help her out and she can finally have a much deserved rest."

"S that right? You tired flower?" Harry murmured when he saw Y/N's eyes opening and closing as she leant against the desk.

"Not tried at all," she lied but Harry seemed to see right through her.

"Hmm," he frowned which immediately had Y/N standing straight and trying to disguise her exhaustion a little better.

"You hungry?" A tall shadow loomed in front of Y/N as she sat at the desk, processing payments for her classes and labelling the baskets for the ladies to take home.

She looked up and saw Harry, his voice now a familiarity after the last almost twenty four hours since she had met him. "A-a little." She decided not to lie this time since apparently, she was much easier to read than she thought.

"I've got food upstairs, wanna come up?" He asks.

"A-Are you sure?" 

"C'mon little flower, I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't mean it." With a nod, Y/N locked up the shop for lunch and followed Harry up to his apartment. When she stepped inside, it was completely different to how it had been last night. 

It was clean and tidy. A few boxes were lying on the carpeted floor of his open living room here and there, but for the most part, it was pretty neat. Y/N's eyes were immediately taken by the prints hanging up on the wall. 

"These are incredible." She gasped, feeling particularly fond of a line drawing of a woman. 

"It's my mother," He stood next to her, looking up at the drawing with her. 

"You drew it?" She asked, wide-eyed.

"Mhm," He hummed. 

"Wow, no wonder you're a tattoo artist," She glanced at the intricate tattoos littered on his arms. 

"Ever thought of getting one yourself?" He asked. 

"N-Not really, I'm no good with needles." She said, rather sheepishly. 

He smirked, "Let's get some food in that tummy." 

Twenty minutes later, Y/N and Harry sat on the small two-person couch eating sandwiches and a fruit salad they had prepared together in Harry's even smaller kitchen. Y/N giggled as Harry threw a grape into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth.

"T-tell me about your tattoos," Y/N insisted after taking a bite out of a strawberry. Harry's eyes looked down at her lips and back to her big, doe eyes. "What does this one mean?" She questioned, pointing to the words written in Hebrew.

"M' sisters name," He starts, "And that says 'Can I stay?'" 

"Hmm, you have a lot of hearts." She said, fingers lightly touching the human heart on his arm. 

"I have a lot of love." He grins, cheekily, like he knew the line was cheesy but wanted to use it anyway. He was glad he did from the smile it had formed on Y/N's face.

Y/N hadn't realised how close they had gotten until she felt his breath on her neck.  Her voice wavers slightly as she tries not to think too much about it, "And what about this one," She points to the rose, her fingers tracing the petals. 

"I did that one myself," He murmured, lips close to her ear. 

"You did?" She said but it came out more as a whisper. She seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, her brain turning to mush and all her thoughts suddenly turning into Harry. 

"Mhm," She glanced up and his deep, green eyes were already boring into her. Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back up again. "You're pretty," He mumbled, loud enough so she could hear.

She shook her head, "I-I don't think so," She was suddenly flustered and confused and wondering why her brain was not acting the way it usually did. 

"I know so," His hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she shudders when his fingertips brush against her cheek. Slowly his head inches forward and the nearer he gets it feels as though more oxygen leaves the room. "Relax," He whispers, touching her hand, "You're okay flower girl."

"H-Harry, I-I've never kissed anyone before." She admits, embarrassment flooding her. 

"What?" He furrows his eyebrows. 

"O-oh, it's just that... I've never been k-kissed before."

"By anyone?" She nods. "Impossible." He whispers.

"We can stop if you want to," He says, his voice gentle and comforting.

"No," She wraps her small fingers around his wrist before he pulls away, "I-I want to,"

"Want to what?" He smirks, "You've gotta tell me baby."

"I want to k-kiss you," She blushes, it's all she seems to do around him.

"Cute," He murmurs before his lips press to hers.

Y/N's not sure what to do at first, her eyes are open and shock courses through her, but Harry's lips move against hers and he breathes, "Relax flower," He insists and she does. 

Her eyes flutter shut and she mimics his movements. What he gives, she gives right back and a small whimper leaves her when he kisses her even harder. She starts to lose her breath with how long they kiss for but she's far too deep, floating too much, to pull away. She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, a groan eliciting from somewhere deep inside him. "Baby," The name escapes his lips and a shiver runs through her. 

With panting breaths, she pulls away and so does he. Her face is flushed and his lips are pink, "You okay?" Is the first thing he asks, receiving a nod. "I think 'm a little bit obsessed with you." He confesses.

"M-Me?" She couldn't believe what he was saying. 

"Don't think I've ever wanted anything more," He looks away like being vulnerable is a foreign thing for him.

"Why?" She can't help but ask.

He shrugs, "Sometimes it just is." 

She thinks on his words before replying, "Can we kiss again?" 

Harry chuckles, "Kiss me all you want flower."

. . .

Y/N had a permanent smile on her face the next day as she went back to work. People asked her what was making her so happy and she was constantly finding things to lie about instead of speaking the name of the tattooed boy next door. 

An hour before lunch, the postman came to deliver her new ribbons for the bouquets and accidentally dropped off a package meant for Harry. Y/N couldn't help but smile at his name written on a brown box. 

"Give me a second ladies, I'm just going to pop next door." Y/N grinned, ignoring the knowing looks of the ladies she was teaching. 

As Y/N walked next door, her confidence seemed to shrink with every step. She realised she had yet to go to Harry's tattoo shop when he was actually working and she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb once she took a step inside. She was wearing a lilac dress and white heels, of course, she was going to stand out.

The bell rang as she stepped inside and a few customers looked up, some of them doing a double take at the small girl. Music played through the speakers but it was a lot less quiet compared to the first day Harry's shop had opened. 

Footsteps walked on the wooden floorboards and Harry walked out from the back room. His eyes caught sight of Y/N and his frown immediately turned into a smile. He held his arms out for her and she quickly walked into his embrace. "Hi flower," He murmured into her hair. 

"I came to drop off your package," She held out the box to him when he let her out of his arms.

"Oh," He took the package from her, "That's all?"

She bit back a smile, "Mmm, I may have something very important to tell you," She gave him a not-so-subtle wink.

He grinned, almost wickedly, "Well, do follow me this way to tell me this very important thing," He led her way from the waiting area and somewhere closed off and hidden from everywhere else. 

When they were alone, he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up onto a countertop, knocking things over. "Harry," She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

"Shhh no more talking baby," He said before kissing her lips that he spent all night dreaming about. Their mouths were wet and hot against each other as they made out in a closet hidden away from Harry's customers.

His hands slid down her back and around her waist, pinching her hips, "Did you wear this dress f' me baby?" He murmured, the tone of his voice sending shivers up Y/N's spine. 

"Wanted to be pretty for you." She told him. She had spent all morning trying to find a nice outfit to wear, not only for work but for when she saw Harry too.

"Fuck," He groaned against her lips, "Where have you been all my life?" 

Y/N felt like a teenage girl getting all flustered and hot over a boy. She'd never experienced being with someone in this way before and now she had a taste for it and couldn't get enough of him. She had left Harry's apartment yesterday in a daze and she felt like she was still floating from the high of her first kiss. 

He stood in between her legs and she subconsciously rolled her hips against him. She gasped in both shock and at the feeling of him against her, "You're okay baby," He soothed her, sensing her confusion.

"Feels good huh?" He pulled her hips into him again and she felt a moan bubble in her throat. "Have you ever touched yourself Y/N?" He wondered. 

She froze, "N-no," She confessed, embarrassed. 

"Nothing to be ashamed of baby," He comforts her, his words soothing the insecure part of her. He kissed her lips softly, "Can I visit you this evening?"

She nods without even thinking about it, "Please," 

He smirks, "Please baby? Please? What are you asking for?"

She didn't know, her mind was foggy and all she could see was him, "Everything." 

His eyes darkened but his smirk never left, "'M polite little flower."

"Harry," She whined, burying her face in his neck. 

Harry laughed and cupped the back of her with his hand, kissing her forehead, "I'll come visit tonight and you better be wearing those cute pyjamas," He knew she was smiling because he could feel her lips against his neck. 

That evening after Y/N had closed the shop, she ran upstairs to her apartment and kicked off her heels. She ran around her living room, hiding things she didn't want Harry to see and flinging dirty laundry into the washing basket. 

She walked into her very pink bedroom and pulled out her pyjamas, happy to finally be wearing something comfortable. She spritzed some of her favourite perfume and rubbed vanilla lotion into her skin. 

Y/N sat on her sofa with Marshel seated by her feet on the carpeted floor. She switched on the TV and watched a few episodes of friends whilst continuing to finish her knitting project - she was making a blanket since one of the ladies from her group was pregnant and would be giving birth very soon. 

She fought to keep her eyes open as she waited for Harry to knock on her door. His shop was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago so she assumed he'd be here by now. 

Slowly, an hour had gone by and Y/N was getting worried. Her mind spun with insecurities and a sudden fear that something might have happened to Harry. She placed her knitting project on her coffee table and patted Marshel on the head. She walked to the door and slid her sock covered feet into her brown UGG boots. 

The shop was not its usual LED red colour when she came to stand in front of the window, instead it was neon blue. Y/N frowned when she heard music playing from inside and checked to see whether the door was open.

Her hand pushed the door handle, the door swinging open and the muffled music suddenly became coherent. She could hear voices coming from the back room where Harry tattooed his customers.

Walking towards the sound, Y/N eventually caught the sound of Harry's voice amongst the group of people chatting. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of him being here, at least she knew she'd be okay if he was there with her. 

Turning the corner, her eyes landed on Harry with two other tattooed men, smoking something that - in Y/N's opinion - smelt a little strange. 

Harry must have sensed her presence as he turned his head and caught sight of her hiding behind the corner wall. He smiled, "Hey flower," 

"Hi," She murmured, feeling embarassed. 

"C'mere," He held out his arm for her and she scurried towards him, attaching herself to him by snuggling her body into his side. He put an arm around her, kissing her forehead. "I thought I was meeting you upstairs?"

Y/N frowned, "You took too long,"

He smirked, "M impatient girl," He nodded towards the two men he was talking to, "Y/N, these are 'm friends, Mike and Dan."

"Mike supplier," Y/N whispered, finally putting a face to the name of the man she had spoken to on Harry's phone.

He was tall and bald with a beard and looked to be in his forties. Like Harry, he also had tattoos but not nearly as much. Beside him was Dan who looked closer in age to Harry, maybe a little older. He was blonde but wore a cap on his head and a silver chain around his neck. 

After Harry had finished smoking with his friends, he said his goodbyes and led Y/N upstairs back to her apartment. "What were you smoking? It smelt funny," Y/N asked,"

Harry fell back onto the couch and pulled her down with him. She lay on top of him, the smell of the smoke still lingering on his clothes. "'S just a bit of weed." He confessed.

Y/N gasped, "Weed? Is that legal?" 

Harry looked at her amused, "Not here but it doesn't do much harm to me, been smoking it for ages." He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, "Does that bother you?"

She thought about it but the idea didn't really seem to phase her. As long as he was being safe and was using it in a healthy sort of way, she didn't mind. "N-no, not at all." Harry's smile widened into a grin. He didn't hesitate to kiss her, feeling her soft lips which had recently become his new obsession. They were so soft and red and kissable and made just for him. 

Y/N didn't want him to stop kissing her whenever he did. She loved the feeling of her eyes fluttering shut and all of her senses just filling up with him. Harry pulled away, still cupping her cheek in his hand. Y/N's chest heaved up and down against him as she tried to catch her breath, "Breathe, flower." His heart ached when she looked up at him with swollen red lips, trying to catch her breath. "Lose your breath a little bit huh?"

"A little," She huffed. 

"You're too cute." 

Y/N kissed him again once she had caught enough air again. Harry sat up, pulling on the roots of her hair as her legs wrapped around him so she was straddling him. She whimpered, tugging on the fabric of his t-shirt.

"What do you want baby?" Harry mumbles against her parted lips. 

"Take it off," She whispers, pulling on his shirt. 

Harry does as he's told, pulling his shirt up over his head and revealing his muscular, tattoed torso. Y/N's eyes widened. She'd never seen something so beautiful, he looked as though he was one of those marble statues in a museum. "Eyes on me baby," Harry smiled, pushing her chin up with his finger so her eyes were looking directly into his. "What now?"

"I-I-I don't know," She blushed, losing her confidence now that they were no longer kissing. 

"We don't have to do anything you don't want." He looked at her with a soft gaze.

"I-I don't want to disappoint you." She admits, her insecurities coming to the surface. 

"Couldn't disappoint me baby, ever." She smiles, feeling secure in his words and his hold. Y/N leans forward and rubs her cheek against his chest. Harry's hands go beneath the tank top of her pyjamas, brushing her bare back. "If it helps I've never done this before."

She's shocked but she tries to hide it, "W-what do you mean?"

"Been intimate with someone." 

She smiled. 

She really, really liked him.

. . .

For weeks after, Y/N was obsessed with two things. 

Her flower shop and her tattooed boyfriend next door.

When she wasn't working, she was with Harry, either cooking in his apartment or cuddling together on the couch in her living room. Harry had also developed a new taste for basket weaving, joining in on Y/N's Sunday classes with the elderly ladies in the morning. 

In the short time they had known each other, Y/N had come to learn that Harry wasn't a morning person but he never missed a Sunday class even when he was exhausted from the busy day before at the tattoo shop. He would stumble downstairs with dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes in sweatpants and a hoodie, sitting in his seat between Mildred and Julia as they fussed over him. 

Y/N had also grown a love for kissing Harry at every opportunity. She'd take many five-minute breaks, walking over to the tattoo shop and kissing Harry in the cupboard or visiting him in the alleyway behind the building where they'd make out against the brick wall. Even Harry had an addiction to his girlfriend's very kissable lips, sneaking out of his shop in between appointments to smother her in kisses in the storage cupboard. 

"Hey Marshy little fur ball," Y/N bit back a grin when she heard the door of her apartment open and the familiar gruff voice speak to her little cat. 

She swung her legs over her bed and paused the movie she was watching, running to the front door and leaping into his arms, "Hi flower," Harry murmured, inhaling the scent of her coconut shampoo. 

Y/N nuzzled her face against his jumper and squeezed him tightly, "Hi Harry," She sighed, blissfully.

"Wanted to come see ya, hope tha's okay." He kissed her quickly. 

"Course, I was watching a film in my room." She tugged on his hand and lead him to her bedroom. 

Harry had spent nights in Y/N's room before. Sometimes he would ask her if it was okay if he took a nap in her bed whenever he finished work early because it was much comfier than his. She'd find him curled up under her blankets, hugging one of her stuffed animals to his chest with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

Harry removes his sweatshirt, leaving him in only sweatpants, before he crawls into bed and pats the spot beside him. Y/N turns on the movie but knows that neither of them has any plans of watching it. 

With the amount of kissing they had been doing, Y/N hoped she had gotten a lot better. She realised Harry would often make small, quiet noises whenever she did something he liked, like tugging on his hair or sticking her tongue in his mouth. 

It wasn't long before they were making out again on her bed. Her leg hooked around his hip and her hands in his hair as he gripped her waist, every now and then he would squeeze her ass remembering the first time he did it and how much she loved it from the soft moans that left her. 

Y/N thought that kissing Harry was the best thing in the entire world but what she didn't know was that Harry had plenty more up his sleeve. 

His hand slid from her waist and down to her bare thigh - she was only wearing pyjama shorts since her apartment was pretty warm. He squeezed her softly, "Can I feel you baby?" He asked.

Y/N froze, not sure how to react. "I-I-"

Harry cupped her cheek, "I know," He already knew what she was thinking before she even said anything, "We can carry on doing what we're doing if you prefer. It's no rush." 

"N-no," She grabbed his wrist in both her hands. Y/N was a virgin but she wasn't afraid... Just inexperienced and that made her a little wary. But with Harry, she knew she wanted to allow that part of herself to him. Maybe not the whole thing but a little something. 

"Y-you can feel me... I-if you like." She said, awkwardly. 

Harry chuckles, "What about if you like, hmm?" His fingertip traced circles on her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

"I-I would l-like that p-please." She whispered.

Harry grinned, "Only because you're so polite sweet girl."

Harry's arm slides between her legs and hooks his fingers around her pyjamas bottoms to pull them down her legs. Y/N inwardly praised herself for shaving the night before yet she was pretty sure Harry wouldn't mind either way. Harry tuts when he sees her underwear, "Did m' little flower get all wet from kissing on daddy?" 

She felt the air leave the room and her body heat at the nickname. It was so dirty and yet she felt herself aching from his words. "Y-yes," She breathes. 

"Yes what baby?" He kisses up her thigh. 

"Yes daddy," She murmurs. 

Harry eyes darken as he looks down between her thighs, "My good, polite girl." He pinches the flesh on her thigh and she feels her chest heave.  Y/N gasps for air when his fingers trace the fabric of her underwear and her heart races even more when he moves her underwear to the side to see a part of herself no one had ever seen before.

"Fuck me," He whispers under his breath. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen." 

"R-really?" Y/N blushes, her cheeks hot.

"Don't think I've ever seen something so pretty." 

"T-thank you, daddy." She whispers the last part but it doesn't stop the bulge from growing in Harry's sweatpants. 

"Have you always been this needy when we kiss baby?" Harry murmured in her ear as his fingers part her pussy. He tries to stop himself from groaning at the slick wetness that coats his fingers.

Y/N gasps at the new feeling but is immediately overcome by pleasure as Harry begins to move his finger back up to her clit, "Harry," She whimpers. 

Harry's quick to pull his hand away, "Nuh uh baby, that's not my name."

Y/N's head was all dizzy but she managed to reply, "Daddy, please," She whines.

"Barely even touched you and you're already whining," He tuts before rubbing his thumb over her clit and making small, slow circles. Y/N whimpers at the new sensation of intense pleasure. "Does that feel good flower?" He asks, nipping her ear as he murmurs against it. 

"S-so good- so good daddy, so, so good." She babbles as he continues to tease her clit with his thumb. 

"Who'd have thought I had such a naughty girl hmm?" She arches into his touch as he moves his finger in a certain way. She wonders how she managed to go on for so long without feeling something so blissfully delightful. 

"Put your hand here baby," Harry instructs, reaching for her hand that wasn't currently scrunching the duvet, and placing it flat over the top of his, "Let me show you how to touch yourself. Watch daddy," Y/N's eyes look down to see his gold ring-clad fingers drenched in her wetness, his tattooed hand moving in circles as her rubs her clit. "This is how I want you to touch yourself when you think of me baby and when you're good, I'll make your perfect, little hole feel good too." Y/N gasps and clenches when he brushes a finger against her hole. 

"I-I'm good-Please, I'm good," She mewls and her hand grips his wrist instead. She uses it as leverage to twist and turn into him, the pleasure overwhelmingly good she can't help but hide her face in his neck. 

"You are good," He kisses her forehead, "My good girl." She nods at his praise, eyes shut. 

Harry forces her legs a part and continues to pleasure her in a way she didn't know about until today. She writhes and moans beneath his touch as he whispers dirty things into her ear. "I want you to cum baby, think you can do that?" 

"Mhm," She sighs, already feeling the bubble of pressure in her tummy. "F-feels - feel's s-so-" 

"Feel good m'love?" He coos, "Cum f' me. Cum f' daddy, wanna see you soak my hand." 

At his words, Y/N whimpers as she becomes increasingly sensitive the more he circles her clit. Harry feels as though he's about to explode as he watches her cheeks flush pink and she grinds her pussy against his hand as she rides out her orgasm. "That's it my little flower, so good." He praises her, feeling her shudder as she finishes coming down from her high.

She's panting heavily as Harry slides her panties back into place. "You okay?" Harry checks, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N nods and instantly feels embarrassed, hiding herself in the crook of his neck. Harry chuckles, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"You're lying," Y/N says, her voice muffled against him.

"Never gonna lie to you flower, never." He promises. 

Y/N removes herself from her hiding place and looks up at him. Harry's heart bursts in his chest when she sees her sleepy, blissful gaze. He wonders where this girl has been all his life and how he managed to go this long without her. He was pretty sure he was falling in love with her but that was a conversation for another day.

"W-what about you?" Y/N looks down and sees the very noticeable bulge in his trousers. 

Harry shakes his head, "Not today," He smiles, "We have plenty of time to experiment some more but think you've had enough experimenting for one night."

"Me too," Y/N curls into his side, not bothering to put her pyjama bottoms back on. "Having sex is exhausting." 

"We didn't even have sex, silly girl." Harry laughs.

"Felt like it," She mumbles against him.

"I'm that good huh?" He grins, cheekily, "Just you wait baby,"

"The best," She slurs, yawning, "M so tired." 

"Yeah? You sleepy baby?" He kisses her forehead. "Get some sleep m'love," He wraps an arm around her and tucks her into his chest. 

"I like you very much Harry," She whispers, sleepily. 

"I like you very much too." Harry replies, holding her close.

psa don't let strangers into your room... actually don't let anyone into your room

[callsigns-haze]

Little life

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin has always been the centre of attention, but behind the cocky aviator façade, he cherishes quiet nights at home with his pregnant wife, Y/N, as they navigate love, routine, and a life the squad knows nothing about.

Warning: This fic contains fluff, pregnancy themes, and light teasing romance.

Word count: 1068 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Part 2 Part 3

Jake Seresin was a man who always seemed to attract attention. With his easy charm and cocky grin, women flocked to him the moment they laid eyes on him. It happened every time—at the bar, after missions, during social events. The second a woman saw him, they’d saunter over, usually with a flirtatious smile, batting their lashes, asking him to buy them a drink.

And every time, without fail, Jake turned them down.

It confused the entire Dagger squad. They’d tease him relentlessly about it, nudging him with raised brows and playful smirks, wondering why someone like him—someone who had the looks, the swagger, the perfect call sign—never took the bait. They couldn’t figure him out. To them, Jake seemed like the type to indulge in a little fun, to soak up the attention and enjoy the benefits of being the golden boy.

But Jake wasn’t interested.

Not anymore.

Because the truth was, when Jake wasn’t flying missions or teasing his teammates, he was at home in Texas, living a life no one suspected. He had a routine, a life outside of the cocky, brash aviator persona he wore like a second skin.

That life began with you.

You sat at your desk, soft lighting casting a warm glow over your latest manuscript. The smell of ink and freshly brewed tea hung in the air, and the quiet hum of a summer night filtered through the open window. You were three months pregnant now, the couple married for a month now, and the bump had just started to show beneath your oversized sweater, a fact Jake never missed when he was home.

He sat nearby, like always, in his favourite armchair. His legs stretched out casually, one arm slung over the back, while the other held a half-empty glass of whiskey. His eyes weren’t on the drink, though—they were on you, as they always were.

You highlighted another line in your manuscript, frowning a little as you moved the neon marker across the page. The ruler in your hand—one you used to make sure your lines were perfectly straight—had gotten a little too stained with colour, and without thinking, you reached out and wiped the edge of the ruler off on Jake’s hand.

He chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head in amusement. “You know, sweetheart, there are other ways to clean that thing. Ever heard of tissues?”

You glanced at him, giving a half-smile as you continued working. “Maybe. But I prefer you.”

That made him grin wider. “Lucky me, then.”

It had become a sort of routine for the two of you, especially now that you were pregnant and he was often gone on missions. When he was home, though, there was no place Jake would rather be than right here, with you, basking in the quiet moments. To anyone else, he was “Hangman”—the sharp-tongued aviator with an ego the size of Texas itself. But with you, he was just Jake, the man who found peace in the most mundane of moments.

He loved watching you work. The way your brow would furrow in concentration, how you’d absentmindedly tuck your hair behind your ear, or bite your lip when you were thinking through a tricky plot point. Jake would tease you for your little quirks, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on the top of your head when he couldn’t resist anymore.

“Need any help there, author of mine?” he’d ask, his voice teasing but soft.

You’d roll your eyes in response, but your smile always gave you away. “I think I’ve got it covered, flyboy.”

Jake would laugh and go back to his drink, but you knew he liked being part of your world like this. When you’d first met, you had been a rising star in the literary world, already on your way to becoming a bestselling author. You were about to turn 20 in a couple weeks just before you wandered into 27 year old Jakes life. Jake never made a big deal about it, though he’d brag quietly to himself every time he saw one of your books displayed in airport bookstores. No one in the squad had any idea who you were, much less that you and Jake were married. And he liked it that way. He liked keeping this part of his life private, away from the chaos of the outside world.

With you, everything was simpler. Real.

Jake loved you in ways no one ever saw. He loved you in the stolen kisses between your sentences, in the lazy mornings in bed when you pressed your nose against his chest, in the quiet I love you’s whispered as he pulled you close late at night. You were his world—everything else was just noise.

As you finished another page, you sighed softly, stretching your arms above your head. Jake’s gaze was on you in an instant, taking in the slight curve of your stomach, his eyes filled with warmth and pride. He got up from his chair and moved behind you, his large hands coming to rest on your shoulders, gently kneading away the tension that had built up from hours of working.

“Time to take a break, darlin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. “Just a little longer. I’m almost done.”

Jake let out a soft laugh, low and teasing. “That’s what you said an hour ago.”

You smiled, but your body relaxed under his hands. You couldn’t deny that the warmth of his touch and the quiet affection in his voice had a way of making you forget the world for a while.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, setting your highlighter down. “But only because you’re so persuasive.”

Jake grinned, pressing a kiss to your neck before straightening up. He turned your chair around so you were facing him, his hands on either side of the armrests, caging you in. His eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint he always had when he was about to say something that would make your heart race.

“Darlin’, I don’t need to be persuasive,” he drawled, his Southern accent thick and smooth. “I’m your favourite distraction, remember?”

You laughed, shaking your head as he leaned in closer. “You’re impossible, Jake.”

“And you love me for it,” he said, his lips brushing against yours before kissing you softly, his hand resting on your belly, feeling the life growing inside you.

And he was right, even though he was nearly seven years older—you did love him for it.

I may or may not have made this into a mini series so let me know if you'd like to be tagged

Part 2 Part 3

[driverlando]

Jealous biker lando being over protective of waitress reader 👀

Dangerous Territory ── biker!lando x waitress!reader ✧.*

The diner hums with its usual late-night rhythm. The faint clatter of cutlery, the buzz of conversation, and the smell of frying bacon and coffee fill the air. You’re moving from table to table, a practiced smile on your lips as you top off mugs and serve plates. It’s late, and your shift is dragging, but it’s familiar, comforting in a way. The neon lights from the diner’s sign outside cast a soft glow over the checkered floors, painting everything in a warm, nostalgic light.

From the corner of your eye, you spot Lando in his usual booth, sitting with his back to the wall, one arm slung casually over the back of the seat. He’s always there at the end of your shifts, watching you, not in an overbearing way but in a protective, silent kind of presence. His leather jacket creaks as he leans back, his dark eyes tracking your movements with a kind of lazy interest. The dim lighting throws shadows across his sharp jawline, making him look even more dangerous than usual. He doesn’t need to say much; just his being there is enough to let everyone know you’re not alone.

You try not to focus on him too much, knowing that whenever your eyes meet, something sparks in the air between you. But it’s hard not to notice him, sitting there like a storm waiting to break, his motorcycle parked just outside, ready to whisk you away once you’ve clocked out.

As you move back to the counter, you feel someone’s eyes on you—a different kind of stare. A guy at the counter, someone you haven’t seen before, grins at you as you set a plate of food down in front of him. His smile is too wide, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than you’d like as you bring him his food. “Another burger and chips,” you say politely, sliding the plate in front of him, already moving to step back when he decides to lean in.

“You work here every night, darling?” His words are slurred but sharp enough to make your stomach turn. His eyes rake over you, from your waist up to your face, and the sleazy grin spreading across his lips sends a chill through you.

You force a smile, trying to keep things professional. “Most nights,” you reply curtly, turning away to tend to the next table, but his voice follows you, dripping with entitlement.

“You’re too pretty for a place like this,” he says, louder now, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. “How about you finish up here and I take you somewhere nice, eh? Bet you’ve never been treated right.” His voice greasy, oozing with an unwanted familiarity.

You freeze, fingers tightening around the coffee pot in your hand, trying to keep calm. “I’m fine, thanks,” you say through gritted teeth, praying he’ll get the hint and leave you alone.

But, of course, he doesn’t. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to be friendly. How about I get your number?” He leans further over the counter, and now you can feel his breath on your skin, the stench of beer making your stomach churn.

You’re about to respond when you feel a shift in the air, a prickle of tension that’s unmistakable. Lando’s watching. And this time, he’s not staying in his booth.

From where you stand, you can see the change in everyone else—the way conversations pause, forks freeze mid-bite, and even the jukebox seems to fade into the background.

Lando’s not rushing. He never does. He walks with purpose, slow and steady, his boots thudding against the tiled floor with a deliberate weight. His leather jacket is half-zipped, the collar up, his eyes locked on the bloke at the counter with a look that could kill.

You’re caught between wanting to stop him and knowing better. Lando’s never been one to start trouble, but he doesn’t shy away from it either, especially not when it comes to you.

The guy at the counter seems blissfully unaware of the impending storm, too caught up in his own delusions of charm. “What d’you say, love? You can do better than this place, yeah?”

Before you can open your mouth, Lando steps up behind you, his chest almost brushing your back as he positions himself between you and the counter. His presence feels like a shield, his hand lightly grazing your waist, a silent gesture that says, I’ve got this.

“You’ve got about three seconds to leave,” Lando says quietly, his voice low and controlled, but there’s an edge to it that sends a shiver down your spine. The kind of tone that promises hell if the bloke doesn’t listen.

The man’s smile falters for the first time, but he tries to laugh it off. “Oi, mate, no need to get all worked up. We’re just having a bit of fun, yeah?” His eyes flick between you and Lando, clearly trying to assess if this is worth pushing.

Lando doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. “I’m not your mate,” he growls, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “And she’s not interested. So, unless you want to be picking up your teeth from the floor, I suggest you leave.”

There’s a pause, thick with tension. Lando’s arm brushes against yours, a small but significant reminder that you’re not alone in this. His fingers twitch slightly, as if resisting the urge to do more, but his presence alone is enough to make the guy back down, finally clocking just how dangerous Lando is. He mutters something under his breath—something about not wanting trouble—and then fumbles to grab his jacket, to throw some money on the counter before practically tripping over his stool in his haste to leave. The bell jingles as it swings shut behind him, and the quiet that follows is almost deafening.

You exhale slowly, the knot in your stomach finally loosening. Lando’s hand lingers on your waist for a moment longer before he turns slightly, looking down at you. His jaw is still tight, his eyes softer now but still flickering with the remnants of protective rage.

“You alright?” His voice is gentler now, his thumb brushing your side.

You nod, offering a small smile. “Yeah, thanks”

Lando’s gaze softens as he looks at you, the intensity melting away now that the guy is gone. His hand moves to your waist, fingers brushing gently over your hip in a way that feels more like a reassurance than anything else. “Didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with protectiveness. “Bloke’s lucky I didn’t deck him.”

You laugh softly, though there’s a hint of truth in his words that makes you shiver. “You didn’t have to get up, I could’ve handled it.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, but why let you when I’m right here?” he teases lightly, though there’s no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes. He’d do it again in a heartbeat.

You roll your eyes playfully, but you can’t deny the flutter in your chest at how easily he steps in when you need him. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he says with a grin, tugging you just a little closer before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. His hand lingers on your waist as if he can’t bring himself to let go, even as you pull away to get back to work.

As you return to your shift, you can still feel Lando’s eyes on you, that quiet, protective presence watching over you from his booth. And though the diner’s back to its usual buzz, you feel safer, knowing Lando’s never far, ready to step in the moment you need him.

—

read After Hours here

[marcyvampire]

We need a part two of the harley quinn mother headcanons!

SUGAR & SPICE!

pairings ⸺ Mother! Harley Quinn x Teen! Reader.

(PLATONIC FIC)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ Every mother reaches the moment when she sees her chick starting to become independent from the nest. Harley loved you from the moment she found you in that abandoned alley, and now she finds it hard to accept that you are drifting away.

If she knew why you were leaving her behind, she would probably be thinking about putting Robin in the oven.

warnings ⸺ Fluff and Angst, Platonic Cuddling, ¿OOC Harley? Idk, Disturbing Content, Street Fights, Violence, Trauma.

A/N ── Honestly, I didn't plan on making a continuation of that headcanon, but since you asked (and your requests are sacred to me), here it is! Shoutout to @animequeen4 for the inspiration too!

When you grow up as the child of one of the most notorious supervillains in Gotham, things get a bit complicated. Harley knew this since you entered school, and especially since she separated from the Joker. She had prepared for everything: to protect you from clowns, snakes, and even snakes disguised as clowns. But what she didn't see coming, what truly drove her crazy, was the biggest challenge of all: your adolescence.

Harley noticed it almost immediately. At first, it was small things. Like how you no longer wanted to listen to the music she played at full volume in the lair. Instead, you started listening to your own songs, the ones she described as "unbearable noise." Then came the decoration of your room, which went from posters of heroes and villains to something "weird," according to Harley. “Since when do you like bats so much?” she would say with an eyebrow raised. But what broke her heart the most was when you stopped letting her dress you. She got frustrated every time she tried to put something on you that she thought looked great, and you would just say, "No, mom, I don't like that anymore."

But the worst, the worst of all, was when you entered high school. You made friends. Friends whose names Harley didn't even know. Horrible! For someone like her, who was used to knowing all the details of your life, that was the worst that could happen. And on top of that, you no longer asked for permission to do things! The worst part was that she had raised you "well" (according to her criteria), so she didn't understand how you ended up at the police station several times for vandalism and disturbances.

"I raised you better than this!" she would shout, completely indignant, while signing the papers to get you out of another detention. Inside, she knew you were going through that rebellious phase, but that didn't make it any easier to cope.

One day, Harley stood at the door of your room, frustrated because you didn't even ask her for help with your math problems anymore. She stared at you, her hands on her hips, and exclaimed, “Look, little birdie, I get you! I know you're growing up and all that, but can you please stop doing it so fast? You're slipping through my fingers!”

It was a mix of desperation and tenderness. Harley wasn't ready to see you grow up. She knew you were becoming more independent, but in her heart, you would always be her little one. And even though she got frustrated with all these changes, with every new friend or every time you snuck out to go to a party, deep down she just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Puberty was a roller coaster, and Harley was starting to realize that nothing in her villain life had prepared her to deal with it. The first thing she noticed was that you no longer wanted to go out with her for taco Fridays with the girls. Those days when they went shopping, wore neon clothes, and had laughs while window shopping stopped being your thing. Harley watched you from the doorframe, taco in hand, saying, “What happened to my buddy? Where's the kid who loved to eat until stuffed full of carnitas?”

Sometimes, Harley tried not to take it to heart, but it was hard. She crumbled a little every time you locked yourself in your room instead of watching her roll around on the sofas with the Birds of Prey or with the Sirens, planning their next crazy scheme. It was then that she realized she needed help. So, as a good mother (or as close as she could get), she turned to the only person who could understand her frustration... Catwoman.

But the chat with Selina wasn’t exactly helpful. “Harley, sweetheart, I don’t mix with kids. I don’t know what you want me to tell you, mine has four legs and purrs,” Selina said, taking a sip of her martini while checking out a new leather whip. It was a "thanks, but no thanks," and Harley left with more questions than answers.

Next stop: Ivy. Harley had high hopes that Ivy, with her serenity and green wisdom, would give her the key to understanding you better. But Ivy just shrugged and said, “Plants grow, Harley. Just like kids. You can't stop the natural process.” Harley frowned. “And what do I do when they doesn’t want to tell me who he's with all day?” Ivy, very zen, replied, “You could always... spy ” It wasn't exactly the help she was looking for.

After exhausting her resources with the girls, Harley did the unthinkable: she turned to Batman. Yes, Batman! In a conversation that turned out to be as awkward as it was effective, the Dark Knight explained to her what he had learned from raising his multiple Robins: “It's part of growing up. You just have to be there, but give them space. You can't control everything.”

Harley, of course, took it with her usual dramatism: “Give them space!? But they doesn’t even want to go for tacos anymore!?” It was as if the world had turned upside down.

Meanwhile, at school, things weren’t going smoothly either. Your new “friends” were... questionable. People that Harley, if she had known, would have kicked out. But, for your luck (or misfortune), those friends didn’t last long. In the end, the problems they brought with them distanced you from them, and unexpectedly, you found yourself spending more time with Damian again. Harley, of course, had no idea about this. To her, Damian was just the rude boy you sometimes talked to.

There was always something about him that intrigued you, and despite his constant grumbling and "I don't care" attitude, you managed to see beyond that. Between talks about anything (and often about nothing), Damian became someone important to you. Harley had no idea about this mini romance, because if she did, she would probably already be plotting a plan to scare the Wayne boy. “If you think he’s cute, go for it,” she had once said with a mischievous wink. And although she didn't think you would take it seriously, here you were, emotionally entangled with Batman’s son, even though at that time you didn't know he was Batman's son.

It all started with an idea that, in retrospect, wasn’t the best: throwing paint cans at Robin. In your defense, it sounded like a funny prank at the moment. What you didn't calculate was that Robin, being Damian Wayne, wasn’t exactly easy to evade. You ran as if your life depended on it, covering almost twenty kilometers, and the most frustrating part was that he wasn’t even sweating. Every time you turned to see if you had lost him, there he was, impeccable, with that unfriendly look and his expression of "When I catch you, say goodbye to your legs."

When he finally threw you to the ground, ready to give you the lesson of your life, you looked at him more closely. That perfectly styled hair, that look of a thousand deaths, and the sarcasm in every phrase... "Damian?!" you shouted, more out of disbelief than fear. Because, of course, it turns out your boyfriend wasn’t just a rude jerk, but also the damn Robin. The pieces finally fell into place, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or feel betrayed. In the end, you did both.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he reprimanded you with that authoritative voice he usually reserved for criminals and his family. "Throwing paint? Seriously?"

The funny thing is that, even though you were completely exhausted from the chase, your brain didn’t stop working. So instead of apologizing like a normal person, you shrugged and said, "At least it wasn't green paint. That would have been offensive." He didn’t find it so funny.

From that moment on, the romantic dates became something much more... practical. Damian decided that if you were going to get into trouble, at least you should know how to defend yourself, so starry night strolls turned into intense self-defense training sessions. "Nothing says 'I love you' like a well-placed punch," you thought every time Damian corrected your stance. And although at first you considered it the least romantic of gestures, there was something sweet about how he insisted on keeping you safe.

Of course, these "dates" weren’t just training. Eventually, you met Jon Kent, the super-sweet boy who contrasted so much with Damian's serious personality. The trio you formed was a disaster waiting to happen, yet somehow it worked. Between secret missions, night escapades, and 'lots of fun,' the three of you became inseparable. But it was all super secret, because if Batman found out, well, the reprimand wouldn’t be exactly gentle. And Harley... well, don’t even think about what Harley would say if she found out.

But Harley, being Harley, didn’t take long to notice the changes. For her, it was alarming to see how her kid, her little birdie, was starting to come home late through the window, with two colors in his hair that reminded her a bit of her own lifestyle, and some bruises that you, of course, tried to hide. "Did you fall down the stairs again? Seriously?" she would ask skeptically while helping you tend to your wounds.

Her biggest fear wasn’t that you would get into minor trouble, but that he would have come back. Harley began to suspect that the Joker had found you, and that kept her in a constant state of alert. She watched you more closely, trying not to show it, but it was obvious. Nights with Damian always seemed to fly by. Between training, talks, and that connection you both shared, the hours slipped away without either of you noticing. That was how it happened that one particular night, after a long and exhausting session, he decided to walk you home. Not that you needed it, you were perfectly capable of getting home on your own (or so you said), but Damian liked to make sure you got home safely. Plus, it was an excuse to spend more time together.

It was already four in the morning, and you were ready to say goodbye with a kiss when suddenly, three giant hyenas sprang out from under your bed, and Harley, in full ninja mode, dropped from the ceiling with a baseball bat in hand. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

You had to close the window, leaving Damian outside, to prevent your mom and the hyenas from getting to the "mom, chill," you tried to calm her, putting yourself between them. "It's not what it looks like."

"Oh no! It looks like you're turning into a mini-Harley with a boyfriend and everything, and I'm not going to sit back and watch how they break your heart like that stupid clown broke mine!"

But you managed to slow her down, and with Harley calmed down (more or less), the tension of the moment seemed to dissolve, but she didn’t stop there. The next morning, she showed up at the Batcave (Only God knows how she found the Batcave), furious, and ready to confront Batman for allowing his son to "seduce" her little birdie. "What kind of father lets his son stay out late with my kid?! This is unacceptable!"

Bruce, who was busy with his screens, barely looked up. He listened to Harley’s furious monologue while maintaining his typical calm posture, nodding from time to time. When Harley finished, he just raised his thumb calmly, as if giving his approval. "Damian has good taste," was all he said.

"That doesn’t help me, Bats!" Harley exclaimed, frustrated. But Bruce, in his minimalist style, simply added, "You... should spend more time with your kid, Harley. Don’t worry so much. And if you need help, just let me know."

Harley was left speechless. It wasn’t the response she expected, but deep down, she knew Batman was right. She sighed and, resigned, left without more than a warning for Bruce: "Just because you told me that doesn’t mean I won’t hit you with my bat if things go wrong."

But the truth is that as Harley made her way home, she reflected a little. You were growing up, and although she didn’t like it, it was part of life. You couldn’t be her little one forever, and while the fear of losing you was always present, she knew she had to trust you. After all, she had raised you well (in her own way), and now she could only let you fly a little, like that little bird she often mentioned.

Back at home, she found you lying on the couch, still with some paint in your hair from the prank on Damian. Harley watched you for a while, noticing how much you had grown. Not just in height, but in attitude. The way you had started to move through the world, making your own decisions, forming relationships outside the little universe she had built for you. And that, even though she sometimes denied it, hurt her a little. She sat on the edge of the couch, sighing as she stroked your messy hair.

Harley noticed it before anyone. First, you stopped getting excited about taco Fridays with the girls or going out to dye your hair neon. Then, it was the uncomfortable silence when you no longer sought her advice for anything. You had become more independent, but Harley only saw you drifting away.

Harley sighed and looked at you with a mix of nostalgia and worry. “You’re growing up... and even though I hate it, I know I can’t stop it. I just want you to know that you will always be my little birdie. No matter how big you get, you will always have a place with me.”

You stayed silent, noticing how difficult it was for her to say it. Harley had been many things, but she had never stopped being your mother. You smiled at her and nodded, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. "I love you too, mom. I promise I’m not drifting away, I’m just... growing."

Harley gave you a tight hug, and in that moment, you knew that even though everything might change, you would always find that common ground, whether it was stealing marshmallows or just sharing a night under the stars. "Puberty sucks," Harley joked, and for the first time in a long time, you both laughed together.

As the hug lingered, you felt how the outside world faded away, leaving only Harley and you in a bubble of safety and love. "I’ll be here, always ready for you, even if sometimes I’m a little... crazy,” she replied with a soft laugh. “But you know that’s what makes everything more fun, right?”

You nodded, and inside, the worry you had felt about drifting away from her faded. There was comfort in knowing that even though the road ahead might be complicated and full of challenges, you had a beacon lighting your way. A mother who, with her craziness and unconditional love, would always guide you home.

"Let’s promise to do more things together, then," you said with determination. "No matter if it’s stealing candy or painting our nails bright colors. There will always be time for that."

"Deal," said Harley, raising her pinky as if sealing a pact. You smiled and linked it with yours. The connection you shared was stronger than any challenge you could face.

"And when it’s time to face the world, I’ll be your ally," she added, a spark of determination shining in her eyes. "Because we will be a team, always."

After that, everything changed, but for the better. Learning to divide your time between everything you loved wasn’t easy, but you knew you would succeed. After all, you had the strongest support: that of your strange yet endearing family, that of your partner, and above all, that of the best mother you could have ever dreamed of.

A/N ─── Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to request anything, don't hesitate to ask. I read all of your comments and questions!

Take a Bath!

[fandoms-x-reader]

MC Faints

Requested By: @space-dragon-ace

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers (individually) react to MC who faints. Word Count: 4,146

This time of year had been the most stressful for you.

The brothers were always fighting for your attention, so you rarely had time for yourself. 

You felt like the second you got home from RAD you were being pulled left and right by one brother or another.

And while you appreciated that they wanted to hang out with you, exams were coming up and as an exchange student, there was an immense amount of pressure on you to do good.

And since you were under that pressure, you had to find time to make sure you were studying.

Which unfortunately meant cutting into your sleep schedule.

You were overworked and exhausted and the only thing that was keeping you upright was the anxiety of knowing that the exams were in the next few days.

Lucifer was a very overworked person himself. So, he had a hard time noticing when someone was struggling to keep up with their workload.

It’s not that he couldn’t pick up on the signs of your exhaustion, it’s just between student council business and keeping his brothers out of trouble, he didn’t really have time to look for those signs.

So, when you fainted in the middle of a student council meeting, he was more surprised than anything.

You had been standing there, looking just as you usually did with no noticeable signs of distress.

And then the next second you were on the ground with his brothers surrounding you.

After the initial shock, Lucifer began thinking of reasons as to why you may have fainted and that’s when all of the little signals suddenly became clear to him.

It’s as if they were bright neon signs that stated you were overtired and ready to collapse.

And Lucifer suddenly became very protective of you, telling his brothers to give you space before whisking you away to the House of Lamentation where he could properly take care of you.

Lucifer held your hand the entire time you were asleep, gently touching his other hand to your forehead occasionally to make sure you weren’t running a fever or anything like that.

When you finally woke up, Lucifer gave you a small smile, apologizing to you for not noticing the signs of your suffering earlier.

“It’s not your fault, Lucifer,” you reassured him before adding, “I just need to do a better job of managing my time.”

Lucifer planned on helping with that.

He already planned to have a long talk with his brothers about respecting your time so that you didn’t have to sacrifice your own health just to keep up with your grades.

On top of that, Lucifer invited you to his room after school much more often. 

He claimed that it was to help make sure you were staying relaxed, but in reality, he needed a break just as much as you did.

And you were the only thing that helped him relax. 

Demons didn’t get sick the same way that humans did.

That was one thing you had come to learn during your time in the Devildom.

They didn’t have a flu season and they didn’t get shots to stave off illness.

So when you started feeling sick, you didn’t think to mention it to the brothers.

After all, you were sure it would only end in a very long conversation consisting of you trying to explain your sickness while they bombarded you with a hundred questions.

You did your best to hide how awful you were really feeling, wearing a smile and doing your best to not look shaky or pale.

And it seemed to work because the brothers were as persistent as ever about spending time with you - especially Mammon.

And you loved spending time with Mammon. You thought it was adorable how he always fought for your attention.

But, today, you were hoping that he would get tired of going out and doing things and let you return to the House of Lamentation.

You would be fine even if he wanted to watch a movie with you at home. Then, if you fell asleep, you could just say you were really tired. It’s not like Mammon would be mad at you for very long anyway.

But, of course, when you were feeling very under the weather,+

Mammon decided he had a full day planned for the two of you.

From shopping to watching him do a photo shoot to trying out new restaurants - Mammon just wanted to spend the whole day together.

You did your best to keep up - to act like nothing was wrong.

But at the end of the day your ailment caught up to you and as you were standing next to Mammon at the casino, you felt incredibly lightheaded.

“I think I’m going to go sit down for a moment,” you told Mammon and he gave you a small frown.

“But, I’m about to win the jackpot!” Mammon argued and you once again smiled at him, agreeing to stay.

Moments later, Mammon did win the jackpot. He let out a victorious laugh and turned to celebrate with you only to find you collapsing into his arms.

His celebration was cut short as he was now freaking out trying to get you to wake up and gently brushing your hair out of your face as tears threatened to form in his eyes.

He rushed you back to the House of Lamentation and after Lucifer and Satan looked over you, they determined you had just fainted from being sick.

They gave Mammon some medicine to give to you when you woke up and then left.

Mammon stayed by your side the entire time and he felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders when you finally opened your eyes.

His lips were turned down into a frown as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our day together,” you replied and it only made Mammon more sad as he pulled you into a hug.

“I thought you died,” he admitted, his arms tightening around you, and you could see how affected he was by seeing you faint.

“I’m sorry, but I’m okay. It’s just a cold,” you told him and although he was satisfied with your answer, he wasn’t letting you go from his arms.

He needed to hold you there for a little while longer, just as some extra reassurance that you were okay.

Levi was absolutely determined to finish the new game that he had bought.

It was a two-player game that he specifically purchased because he thought you would enjoy playing it with him.

Which meant that you were being dragged along for the ride whether you wanted to or not.

Levi wanted to finish the game as quickly as possible so that he could be the first person to review it and in order to do so, he had you pull two all-nighters back to back.

You were exhausted and ready to call it quits, but Levi was very convincing when he wanted to be. 

He knew all of the right bribes to offer you to keep you awake and playing.

On top of that, you were genuinely happy to be spending time with Levi.

But as the alarm clock rang after the second all-nighter that happiness you were feeling was overtaken by your exhaustion. 

You let out a groan as you sat down your controller, looking at the clock in Levi’s room as if it betrayed you by signaling it was time to get ready for school.

You and Levi still hadn’t finished the game and you couldn’t help but stare off into space with dread as you realized that meant that you would be in Levi’s room again after school today trying to finish it.

And no amount of caffeine would help you survive a third all-nighter in a row.

You didn’t say anything to Levi as you left his bedroom to get ready for school. In fact, you didn’t say anything to any of the brothers all day.

You weren’t trying to be rude, you were just too tired to care.

It wasn’t until you fainted at lunch that they realized something was genuinely wrong.

They all clamored over to you as you went down in the middle of the room, the other students whispering and asking what happened.

The scene caused quite the commotion which led to Diavolo finding out quickly. 

 As you rested in the infirmary, Diavolo questioned the brothers about what could have caused you to collapse.

Lucifer turned to Levi, claiming that he had been spending the most time with you lately.

Diavolo asked Levi if he noticed you feeling unwell and Levi innocently told him you looked like you were fine during your two all-nighters together.

“Wait - did you say that they hadn’t slept in two straight days?” Diavolo questioned and all of the brothers looked at Levi incredulously. 

Levi’s words suddenly registered in his own mind as he realized that he was the reason you fainted.

He immediately started panicking as his mind tried to come up with ways to make it up to you.

And as if his guilt wasn’t punishment enough, he had to endure a multiple-hour-long lecture from Lucifer about the importance of sleep for humans. 

Levi was afraid to face you the next time you saw him. He was afraid that you would hate him for forcing you to stay awake with him.

You reassured him that you had fun playing the game with him.

“Next time, maybe just let me get a couple hours of sleep in,” you teased and a blush rushed to his cheeks as he nodded his head.

Levi was really happy that you still wanted to play games with him despite what happened and he made a promise to himself to prioritize your health over the game from now on.

Between his brothers and the busy life of being a member of the student council, you and Satan didn’t get a whole lot of free time to spend together.

So, when the opportunity did present itself where Satan was able to steal you away, the two of you liked to take advantage of it.

There was an outdoor festival happening up in the human world and Satan wanted to take you to it.

He knew that it had been a while since you visited and the festival had an overall theme that he knew you would both enjoy.

You were ecstatic when he asked you to go with him and the two of you left almost immediately after.

The festival was absolutely gorgeous and it was full of things that you and Satan could do together.

You shared the cuisines, you bought souvenirs, and you even participated in some of the side activities they offered.

And while you were enjoying your time with Satan, there was one problem - the heat.

The Devildom had no sun to shine brightly or warm the weather so you had grown accustomed to the weather there.

But in the human world, the sun was at large, beating down on you.

You hadn’t prepared for it to be so hot and were starting to feel light-headed.

Satan was usually so attentive and would recognize something was off the second that you started to not feel good.

But, he was so distracted by everything else going on that he didn’t notice.

He was like a kid in the candy shop, holding your hand as he dragged you from stall to stall.

He was talking to a vendor about a necklace they had when you felt like your head was starting to spin.

Satan turned to ask your opinion on the piece of jewelry with full intentions of buying it for you.

But, when he faced you, he saw how flushed your complexion was.

He barely had time to react before you were collapsing.

The necklace was long forgotten as Satan easily caught you in his arms.

He immediately went into doctor mode, doing his best to recall everything he had learned about humans.

His mind was racing with possible reasons as to why you could have fainted. The possibilities seemed endless.

Until he placed his hand on your forehead and noticed that you felt hot to the touch.

And it was like everything had clicked into place as he was suddenly rushing you back to the House of Lamentation.

He laid you in his bed because he figured it would be easier to take care of you there since the other brothers wouldn’t barge in.

When you woke up, it took you a moment to figure out where you were and what happened but a deep blush coated your cheeks as you began to comprehend the situation.

“I’m sorry I ruined our date,” you stated, refusing to look at Satan.

He immediately leaned forward and cupped your cheeks before tilting your head up to look into his eyes.

“You didn’t ruin our date. I still had a great time - did you?” Satan questioned and you nodded your head.

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before telling you, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

You leaned into his touch and he pulled you into his arms, attempting to calm his heart rate that had been racing since your first collapsed.

As calm and composed as he remained, Satan had been so scared when you fainted and now he was going to keep you in his arms for however long it took to convince himself that you were okay.

You were heading home after school when Asmo suddenly approached you.

He had such a happy smile on his face when he saw you and you could hear the excitement in his voice.

Asmo had been invited to a special event that night and he asked if you would be his plus one.

You could see the jealous looks you were getting from miscellaneous other people as Asmo stood before you with a hopeful look.

When you agreed to go, Asmo let out a happy noise of excitement before taking your hand and leading you into town.

The two of you needed to start getting ready right away!

He wanted the two of you to have matching outfits so he took you to Majolish to get new ones.

The two of you spent a while there trying on different outfits, attempting to find matching ones that fit both your and Asmo’s styles.

And you had finally found an outfit that had a mix of both. 

There was just one problem - it had a corset. And in true corset fashion, it was quite restricting. 

Asmo was dying over the way you looked in that outfit, giving you compliment after compliment and looking so happy while doing it.

You didn’t tell him about the corset being too tight, instead agreeing to buy it.

The event would only be for a little while, so you figured it would be fine. All you had to do was last until the end of the event.

And you had managed to do just that, albeit with a bit of a struggle.

You felt like the corset was somehow getting tighter and tighter as the night went on and you were starting to feel short of breath and hot. 

Asmo could see that you weren’t feeling one hundred percent, so he suggested that the two of you head back to the House of Lamentation.

Though, he didn’t understand why you weren’t feeling well. Did you have something to drink when he wasn’t looking?

The two of you barely made it to the House of Lamentation when everything went black and you fell to the ground.

Asmo panicked immediately, shouting for Lucifer to come outside and help you as his hands shakily held your head, not knowing what to do.

When Lucifer inspected the scene in front of him, he noticed the corset and demanded Asmo take it off.

Lucifer was so sure that the article of clothing was the cause of your fainting so Asmo quickly rushed you to your bedroom and took the corset off you, staring intensely at your face as he waited for something to happen.

You woke up shortly after and Asmo let out a loud sigh of relief as he pulled you into his arms, blinking past the tears that had formed in his eyes.

He stroked your hair as you took deep breaths, the feeling of your lungs expanding fully was something that felt strangely nice.

“If the outfit was too tight, we could have gotten you something else,” Asmo told you softly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to look good for your event,” you replied and Asmo pulled away from the hug to cup your cheeks and look you in the eyes.

“You look perfect in everything. You didn’t have to suffer all night - I wanted you to have a good time,” Asmo replied.

“I did have a good time, Asmo,” you reassured him and he pulled you back into his arms.

“Just don’t ever do that again,” he said quietly as he tried to push the image of you fainting out of his mind.

You were running late to breakfast and the brothers had noticed that his had been a recurring thing with you lately.

The day before, you were late for breakfast because you overslept after staying up all night studying.

And then you were also late to dinner later that day after Solomon unexpectedly asked for your help with something.

And today you had sent them all a message letting them know you would be late to breakfast due to a shower mishap.

Asmo attempted to ask you to explain in further detail, but the others didn’t press the subject.

They knew that you would be a little late, but it was only a few minutes until everyone had to leave to make it to RAD on time.

Beel had been staring at your plate of food the entire time, doing his best to restrain himself. 

He knew that after missing both breakfast and dinner yesterday you would be hungry. But, if you weren’t going to eat it, he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

After waiting a couple more minutes, Lucifer let out a small sigh before allowing Beel to eat your food.

Just then, you came bounding into the dining room with a look of shock on your face as you watched Beel gobble up your food in one bite.

“Hey, that was mine,” you said with a small pout and Beel looked like a deer in headlights as he sat your plate down.

“You were late,” Lucifer retorted before adding, “Time to go.”

You had a small frown the entire way to RAD and Beel felt guilty every time he heard your stomach rumble.

He was determined to make it up to you by getting you extra food at lunch.

But your hunger was starting to really get to you and by the second class you were starting to feel lightheaded.

You tried not to act any differently but you could feel Beel’s eyes on you during the class and it was only adding to the myriad of things you were feeling right now.

You felt overwhelmed by everything and as soon as the bell rang signally class was over, you stood up - only to fall right back down.

Beel managed to get to you just in time to catch you, but he started panicking when he saw that you were unconscious. 

He immediately lifted you off the ground and carried you to the school infirmary. 

The guilt he was feeling now was eating him alive. He knew that you had fainted because you were hungry.

If only he had a little more self-control and didn’t eat your food then maybe you wouldn’t have fainted.

When you woke up, you were immediately met with Beel’s concerned eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Beel asked you and you sat up slightly as you realized what had happened. 

“I’m fine,” you replied, though he suspected that wasn’t one hundred percent true.

You looked around the room and noticed Beel had bought a ton of snacks and drinks and laid them out on the bed next to you.

As soon as he deemed you were okay enough, he handed you snack after snack and apologized profusely for eating your food.

He would make sure you never fainted from hunger again. 

You and Belphie shared such romantic moments sometimes.

Other times, he acted like such a brat.

It seemed like one of Belphie’s favorite things to do was to mess with you. Especially when he was feeling particularly testy.

Lucifer woke him up from his nap? I guess that means you wanted to pick a fight with him too so now he’s relentlessly trying to wrestle and tickle you.

Beel decided to eat his food that morning? Well, then you don’t get to eat either. But, you don’t mind, right?

And you would always retaliate which would end up leading to a war between you.

And both of you refused to back down.

In fact, sometimes it got to the point where the other brothers avoided the two of you, afraid of being collateral damage.

You wanted something to drink in the middle of the night, so you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed your favorite from the fridge.

You poured yourself a cup and sipped it quietly, immediately regretting it as you did so.

The taste was awful and you could hear Belphie’s snickering somewhere nearby.

You swallowed the drink and glared at the entrance to the kitchen as Belphie entered, holding his sides from laughing.

Why was he only awake at the most inconvenient times?

You decided to make Belphie pay for his actions.

“Belphie - did you put something in this?” you asked him, holding a hand to your stomach as if you were about to be sick.

“You should see your face right now,” he replied, continuing to laugh.

You placed one hand on your head and started fanning yourself with your other hand.

“Okay, but you made sure it was safe for humans, right?” you asked him and Belphie paused. You were just pulling his leg, right?

You took a few strained breaths before asking him, “Is it really hot in here?”

Belphie’s expression had turned from one of amusement to one of slight panic as he watched you, trying to figure out if you were lying or not.

He was positive what he put in your drink wouldn’t harm you, but he didn’t exactly look it up to check.

Belphie’s eyes were wide and he felt like he couldn’t breathe as you collapsed to the ground.

He was panicking as flashbacks of what once happened between the two of you overwhelmed his mind.

Did he just kill you? Again?

He felt like he was starting to have a panic attack as Beel suddenly entered the kitchen.

“Belphie?” he questioned, not expecting his twin to be there. He was just trying to get his midnight snack.

“Beel - I think I…,” Belphie stated, frozen in shock.

Beel’s eyes widened as he saw your body on the ground and he immediately rushed over to you, placing his fingers on your neck to check for a pulse just like Satan had taught him.

When you could feel Beel’s shaky hands, you knew the prank might have gone a little too far and you gently grabbed his wrist and opened your eyes.

Beel and Belphie looked at you confused for a moment and then Belphie realized what happened.

He gave you the biggest death glare and you noticed the tears that had started to form in his eyes.

“Belphie-,” you began but he stormed off to sulk in the attic. You followed him, only to find the door shut. 

“Belphie, come on let me in,” you told him. You could see him lying on the bed, turned away from you.

“I opened this door once before, I’ll do it again if I really have to,” you added.

Belphie let out a sigh of frustration before getting up and opening the door.

You immediately pulled him into a hug as he did, wrapping your arms around his torso and his arms timidly wrapped around you as well.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, genuinely feeling bad for taking things so far.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he stated, hugging you tighter before pulling you over to the bed with him.

Your punishment was to spend the night with him so that you were there whenever he needed some extra reassurance that you were okay.

Despite his pranks and brattiness, Belphie really loved you and he couldn’t imagine what he would do without you.

[superfallingstars]

Jily circa 1977, for @moonstainn's marauders era 70s outfit challenge! I had sooo much fun with this - I think this is the first time that James has made an appearance on this account, and I actually based his shirt and jacket on a photo of my dad in the 70s, which was super fun. Love a contrast stitching moment!

The other reason this was so fun is that I'm like one of those annoying historical fashion people but only for like, the 70s thru 90s, lol. I think late 70s fashion can sometimes get lost in the shuffle between the groovy early 70s and the neon 80s, so I really wanted to showcase it here, since that's the era in which James and Lily come of age. From what I've seen, late 70s fashion is less bell bottoms and fringe, and more cuffed jeans, knee-high boots, and furry jackets with big shoulders (perhaps a precursor to the shoulder pads of the 80s...?).

I can't resist rambling on about this, but I'll do everyone a favor and put it (as well as all of my references/inspo!) under the cut:

These are street style pics from 1977 London, taken by Derek Ridgers, and they're such a big influence on how I imagine Lily. You can see that the styles are starting to shift from the hippie fashion of the late 60s/early 70s – at this point there were a lot of these huge fuzzy jackets, cowl neck sweaters, layered zip-ups, and knee-high boots under midi skirts.

A few photos of some women whose fashion specifically inspired me for this drawing. The top row is all Kate Bush – there are a ton of photos of her from around this time and she looks quite similar to how I imagine Lily – and she rocks those tall boots (+ midi skirt combo). The bottom row is Isabelle Huppert (who I have considered as a time-accurate Lily fancast lol, although I'm uncertain of the exact dates of these photos). Her jacket in the first pic definitely inspired me for Lily, and I don't think I've ever seen someone look so cool in a scarf before...!

The other big trend I noticed (from looking through a million pictures of bands I like from this time) is the proliferation of cuffed jeans! What was up with these giant cuffs? Once I started looking for them, I noticed them everywhere. Tbh they're a nice way to add a fun little extra detail to a character's outfit. And I must mention that in the second photo (featuring the Buzzcocks), the guy on the right (John Maher) is pretty much EXACTLY how I imagine James to look. There's like no other pictures of him in those glasses tho! So unfortunate.

Anyway! I adore 70s fashion, and even though there are definitely similarities throughout the whole decade, late 70s fashion has its own unique trends that I hoped to bring some attention to here. Especially because it's basically the golden age for Marauders fans lol. Of course this is not comprehensive (far from it!), but I wanted to share my thoughts, and I hope it was at least a little informative or inspiring. Thanks if you made it this far through my rambles :-)

[moodymuu]

⚠︎︎NSH⚠︎︎

(Ignore the fact I don’t know how to use neons like a proper human being, especially in the green spectrum (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`))

ANYWAYS! HI ur Sig is chaotic and I love you for making em that way(•̀ᴗ•́)و COUGH

Original design (very bottom)

@sapphicdib (right)

Mine (left)

@dvepalki (middle)

@exo-dus404 (top middle)

[daisynik7]

and if I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love

You squint your eyes at the pink neon sign flickering against the fake moss tapestry to the left of the bar. A young couple poses in front of it, smiling at their mutual friend who holds the phone to take a picture. Beautiful, radiant, charming. All while you sit on the barstool, hunched over the half-empty cocktail that you swirl in your grip, relishing the condensation on the rim of the glass. With your straw, you stab at the maraschino cherry floating around in there, popping it into your mouth. The sweetness cuts through the bitter liquor, or loneliness, lingering on your tongue and you think that maybe tonight isn’t so bad, despite your sulking.

It's another happy hour, courtesy of your boss. Everyone on your team is here, who you genuinely get along with, no problem. But there’s one person missing, the one person you want to see the most. Nanami is the only one to decline tonight’s invitation to the new trendy bar downtown. During your lunch together, you don’t ask why. You don’t want him to suspect that you’re devastated by his decision, which you are. So, you talk about how much you’re craving cake instead, changing the topic all together, hoping he doesn’t catch the hint of sadness in your tone.

Ever since he walked you home in the rain the other week, protected under his umbrella, there’s been this obvious vibe between you. Still, it could all be wishful thinking on your end. You never did get around to confessing your true feelings for him; you’d rather enjoy what you have as it is. Why ruin something good? There’s the hope that maybe things could be even better if you take this leap of faith. But it’s always terrifying taking the plunge, isn’t it? Especially when you don’t know if you’ll sink or swim.

It was by the fourth cocktail that you decided to leave your group gathered around the back table. That’s why you’re here now, sulking between strangers at the bar, chewing on your tiny straw until it’s gnarled on one end. Your friends on the team know the real reason, trying to dismiss all the jokes from your more annoying coworkers about how you must be missing your “work husband”. Even they’re shipping the two of you together. If only you knew what Nanami truly thinks about all this. About you.

To your complete shock, it doesn’t take you long to find out. Still in his work attire, Nanami walks through the front door, hair swept beautifully as always. As soon as his eyes find yours, he smiles, making his way to you. It’s only when he approaches you that you notice a small box in his hands. “Good. You’re still here,” he says, smile growing wider.

You blink at him several times, as if you’re not seeing him clearly.

“Can you come with me? I have something for you.” His voice is trembling slightly, excited.

You nod, still rendered speechless, wobbly as you follow him outside. When you’re alone in front of the establishment, the voices of those inside muffled and distant, you stare down at your shoes, anticipating what’s about to happen. He holds the box out to you, opening the cover slowly, revealing a personalized cake decorated beautifully with your name written in neat frosting on the top.

You meet his gaze, putting your hand to your mouth, hiding a gasp. “Nanami.”

“I made this for you. Because of what we talked about today.” He swallows hard, taking a step towards to you. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now. I…” He trails off, nervous, scared, uncertain. Just like you.

This time, you follow through with what you’ve been wanting to do since that rainy night not too long ago. You close the distance, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Sparks fly and whatever buzz you have from the alcohol is replaced with this electricity. “Me too.”

Author's Note: A continuation of this. Yet another coworker!Nanami drabble inspired by a song that’s making me feel all sappy and soft. 🩶 Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

[tunatoge]

forks and forts - aged up!m. fushiguro x reader

contents: megumi takes care of you

a/n: im in the middle of a five page paper for a class so i wanted to post a lil fluff to help me get my thoughts under control o< -< he honestly might b a lil ooc but i hope u like it n e way

you let out a happy sigh as you sink into the bathtub, nose gently kissing the suds that fill the top layer of the tub. as you gently slide back upwards, you tilt your head to your right, resting your ear on the cold porcelain of the garden tub. megumi stares at you from the bathroom door, his hair pushed up with a silly bear themed headband you’d bought him months ago. he flicks the bathroom light on and you shrink back into the lukewarm bath water, squinting as your eyes adjust. you scrunch your nose as he leans over the bathroom counter and blows out your newly purchased bath and body works candle, sending dainty tendrils of smoke into the air.

“how long are you gonna’ be in here?” megumi looks at his reflection in the mirror and squints, immediately reaching for the container of q-tips to his left.

you sigh as you sit up properly and lean over your knees, you knock your forehead into your legs before turning your head to look at him, your cheek pressed snuggly against your legs still. cold air blows against your wet skin and you shiver in the tub. you watch as megumi brings the q-tips to his cheek and presses them together on a pimple, his brows furrowed in disgust and concentration over his ministrations.

you don’t know what time it is, but you’ve an inkling it’s been over your usual hour–especially after seeing megumi come into the bathroom. he knows to leave you alone when you’ve made yourself cozy in the tub.

“i put your takeout in the oven,” he says, glancing over at you as he tosses the q-tips in the trash and washes his hands. he digs around behind the bathroom mirror for a second before pulling out acne patches and a pair of neon pink tweezers, pressing a patch onto his cheek with a shrug. “i also made a fort in the living room and put on your favorite movie… wanna join me?” he turns to you, his cheeks tinted pink at your hunched over form. he rubs at his nape as he looks at you, and his blue eyes hold admiration; the only time an active shine takes over his pretty blue eyes is when he’s looking at you. your stomach and heart do a flip in tandem and you bite back a smile. you silently thank every god you know for megumi and the way that he cares for you.

you sigh again, this time filled with giddy, child-like love, “yeah, but i need to wash my hair first…”

megumi lets out a huff, and if you hadn’t known him better you would've thought he was annoyed with you, but you know he doesn’t mean it in a mean way. especially when he immediately pads over to you and drops down to his knees next to the tub, “i can do that,” he says somewhat monotonously and you smile at him, fondness overtaking your features and a breathy ‘thank you’ on your lips.

he rolls up his sleeves and dips his hands into the bath, grunting at how cold the water is, before reaching for the bottle of strawberry scented shampoo. you watch as he flips the top open, attempting to squirt a generous amount onto his hand. the bottle makes a sound as he shakes it up and down and squeezes. you giggle at the noise.

“i’ll buy more tomorrow,” megumi says more to himself than to you and closes the bottle, satisfied with the amount squirted out into his open palm.

he sets the empty bottle down next to him to rinse it out and put it in recycling later and sets to work his lithe fingers into your hair, scratching at your scalp. you let out a hum of approval and his face warms again at the little sound.

“thank you, gumi,” you say happily as he dips a hand into the water and stands to grab the shower head.

“yeah, whatever,” he mumbles, bringing the shower head down and turning the water on. he lets you run your fingers under the faucet to approve of the temperature before pulling the little latch. “can you turn around?” he asks and you nod, shifting around in the tub so your back is to the faucet.

the spray of water against your scalp is warm as megumi runs his fingers through your hair, scratching softly against your head as he cleans the suds out of your hair. you close your eyes and hum quietly, opening your eyes briefly when megumi asks that you hold onto the shower head. you agree silently, taking it into your hand while megumi lathers your hair in a generous amount of conditioner. he runs his fingers through your hair, making sure to get all of your hair.

“thank you,” you say again when he finally takes back the shower head. he huffs out a laugh as he rinses the conditioner from your hair, lifting and lowering your hair to get it all out.

by the time he’s finished, the water in the tub is soapier than before and significantly warmer. megumi helps you out of the water, careful to make sure you don’t slip. once he’s assured you’re out of the tub safely, he reaches into the foamy water and pulls the stopper, letting the liquid drain noisily. you’re in awe with the way he moves, so smoothly next to you. he helps you dress after he wipes his soapy hands and forearm and then draws you out to the living room where his fort lays waiting.

“get comfy,” he tells you, watching as you curl up in the pile of pillows and blankets thrown on the floor. the coffee table is pressed against the far wall and megumi reassures you that he’ll put it back once the two of you are done.

megumi leaves for a moment to grab your food for you, you assume, so you look for a movie. you think you’ve seen nearly everything that any streaming service offers but you still look. in the end, megumi is going to pick—always some movie recommended to him by yuuji or gojo. it’s always something good, too.

“you find anything?” megumi asks as he sits down next to you, balancing a to-go box in his arms. you sit up and wrap your blanket around his shoulders, pulling him into you tightly.

“trade me?” you ask, pawing at your food with a blanket-wrapped hand. megumi hands you the container and takes up the tv remote, his dark blue eyes on the tv as he easily navigates to a movie. you hum in delight at the movie he puts on, the sound turning a little sour when the audio blares too loudly. megumi lowers it before you can ask.

you cozy up into megumi even further and open your to-go container, pleased to find that steam emits from the cheap chinese food inside. without having to ask, he’d microwaved your food for you.

“thank you,” you tell him around a mouthful of warm noodles, your eyes trained on him instead of the actors on screen.

megumi looks at you and the admiration comes back. he smiles small and shyly, nearly impossible to see in the dark. “anything for you,” he promises you.

you knock your knee into his under the blankets and he offers his food to you, letting you take a piece of chicken because like he said—he’d do anything for you.

[rae-writes]

our bonds

om demons x reader

+ two bonus characters || 2.k wc

synopsis :  [Rae’s] pact hcs ranging anywhere from size, placement, qualities, and additional little quips— in order of obtainment

Mammon’s pact mark is the biggest one you have; plastered over your upper back- right in the center- it circles around to the very end of your trapezius muscle, hitting parts of your shoulder, though it doesn’t reach past your neck. It glows a shimmering gold when in use. When activated, the feeling is the equivalent to a steady pulse of adrenaline 

Mammon can splay his entire hand over the mark and not cover it all 

Likes to hug you from behind so he can be pressed against it, and if you’re still enough, you can feel the quick thump thump of his heart against you

Loves when you wear tops that show it off

Has a Polaroid you took where your bare back is exposed to a mirror and you’re looking over your shoulder with a grin; it never leaves the clear pocket in his wallet

Traces it for comfort- whether he was feeling down or just to reassure himself that you’re his and you aren’t going anywhere 

With the owner being so shy, it was a bit surprising to see Levi’s mark show up on the back of your right hand; the rather small size makes up for the bold placement. The very top of the sigil’s circle hits the bottom of your middle knuckle, going down until it hits your wrist line. When in use, it pulses a toxic shade of orange and has a faint iridescent tinge to it. The feeling is like a cold wave of pinpricks, as if you’d just jumped into the ocean headfirst.

Traces over it constantly- absentmindedly- as a form of both comfort and a way to relieve his anxiety

Can sit for hours and watch the iridescent shimmer (only if you’re fine with having it active for so long) 

Preens subtly whenever you brandish it proudly when someone asks about it

Melts if you caress his face using that hand— especially if he’s been down in his sin and it’s glowing his orange 

Bites the mark when he’s feeling particularly possessive, making sure the indents of his teeth (see: fangs) show 

Unlike his brother, it was not a surprise to see Beel’s pact show up on your stomach. Evenly placed in the middle, it was your second biggest pact that reached a little below your belly button (much before your pelvis) and up to two inches below the tip of your sternum. Lights up a neon red when activated— almost like a warning sign.  The feeling is practically numbing, like there’s suddenly a black hole there instead. 

Always gives a big, dopey grin whenever he catches sight of it and offers you a bite of whatever he’s eating 

He likes to nuzzle his head against the mark, occasionally sleeping there when he’s not holding you 

Instead of having just an arm around your waist in town, he’ll also splay his hand over part of your stomach to feel even closer 

Loves blowing raspberries right in the center of the sigil 

Beel’s lock screen is a picture of you and him where you’re smiling with your arms raised in a cheer while he’s holding you up in his arms- in his fangol uniform and extremely sweaty- but with an even bigger grin as he rests his head against your stomach

Asmo’s pact shows up along your sternum, rather than being in a risqué location like you were expecting, and fits in the center of your chest thanks to its smaller size. When activated, the color varies from baby pink to hot pink, depending on exactly how much strength is flowing through the pact. It feels like a pleasant tingle blooming throughout your entire chest, slowly moving down to the rest of your body the longer it’s in use. 

Rests his forehead over the area as a silent way of saying ‘I’m here, I love you, thank you for loving me as me’ especially when he’s feeling insecure 

Uses it as the perfect excuse to include cleavage windows amongst the clothing he picks out for you 

Likes to watch it turn from the lightest innocent shade to the darkest lust shade

Whenever you’re both doing a spa day, he makes sure to trace his sigil because it ‘will keep our relationship healthy!’ 

Cried the first time you showed it to him because you brought him closer so he could rest his head over it and the sound of your heartbeat made him feel so loved 

You’ll find Satan’s pact marking your left wrist. It’s one of your smaller ones; it doesn’t pass the sides of your forearm and stays right below the wrist line— has a diameter of 3 inches from top to bottom. Is a neutral forest green when in use and gets either duller or brighter depending on how angry you get. Activating it brings a sensation bordering between a nice, cozy warmth and a scalding, burning warmth. 

Kisses over the mark all. the. time. 

also nuzzles his head against it like a cat

Like Levi, he has a habit of biting his mark whenever his sin starts to take hold of either of you

Can’t help but feel fuzzy whenever he sees it, no matter how many times he’s seen it 

His favorite bookmark is a pocket sized photo of you throwing up a peace sign with his sigil showing

Located on your lower back, Belphie’s pact is very much the equivalent of a tramp stamp. A nice medium sized sigil that sits right in the middle, over your spine. When activated, the color is a faint amethyst with blue speckles floating about, no brighter than a nightlight. It sends a deep haze through you, like the feeling of finally settling into a comfy bed after a long day. 

Falls asleep with his head resting against his pact— it’s one of his favorite spots

Has a hand resting there whenever you go out; it makes him feel assured and keeps him from losing you (he did that once…he nearly threw a tantrum in the middle of town) 

His eyes always dart to your lower back when your shirt starts riding up 

Can sit for hours and watch the blue speckles shift around

Another biter! Anytime he gets jealous or even just wants your attention, he’s biting over his mark sharply

Lucifer’s pact ends up on the back of your neck, big enough to see all the details, but small enough to fit right under your hairline and down to the base of your neck without stretching to the sides. It glimmers a deep, sapphire blue when in use and has a quick electric feel when first activated that smooths out into the equivalent of a light, steady buzz.

Has a habit of gently grabbing the back of your neck to get your attention (only when you’re alone)

Places a kiss in the center of the sigil every night before bed and every morning before leaving the bed

He doesn’t show it, but whenever his pact is visible in public, it sends a shock of pride right through him every time

While he would like to claim he’s more composed than his brothers, he also has the habit of biting his mark whenever he gets jealous or possessive 

Tends to cup the back of your neck whenever you two kiss (and sometimes digs his fingers into the flesh gently when it gets a bit heated)

+bonus 

Finally receiving one on your legs, Barbatos’ pact shows up on the outer side of your right ankle. Roughly the same size as Satan’s, it stops above your ankle bone and doesn’t breach the sides of your calf. The color comes in slow waves of jade green when in use and has a feel equal to being lost alone in an eerie forest— the coldness of the air and the distinct feeling of not actually being the only one there. 

Subconsciously rubs his thumb over the mark whenever you’re casually lounging together

Anytime he’s helping you put your shoes on, he insists, because he is a gentlemen, he places a slow kiss in the center of the mark (if you’re wearing pants or long socks, he’ll pull up/down the material just to do so and then fix it right back) 

There’s a picture hidden in your, Asmo, and Solomon’s D.D.D of a back shot of Barbatos, overcoat off, with your leg thrown over his shoulder, pact mark glowing on the skin of your ankle— magic works wonders when secretly snapping good shots

When you first formed a pact with him, everyone could see the silent smugness he radiated, but no one knew why for weeks because they couldn’t see the mark (everyone flipped once they did find out, though) 

The rare times you’re both seated at a table together when he isn’t running around catering to everybody, he keens every time to rub your ankle against his under the table

Much to his surprise [and slight embarrassment], Mephisto���s mark appears on your left upper thigh, right under the hip bone. It’s also a good medium size, circling right in the center. It glows a pretty, royal shade of magenta when activated; gives you the feeling of simultaneously being both annoyed and accomplished. 

Discreetly grabs your hips anytime he’s passing by behind you and runs his fingers over his mark before letting go 

Anytime you throw your legs over him when lounging around, he always- absentmindedly- goes to rub over his mark

And another biter! He does try to maintain some ‘class’, but when it gets down to it and he’s just so frustrated and jealous, sinking his teeth into his pact makes him feel so much better

Sometimes gets insecure because his can’t be shown off as easily as the others

After seeing his pact activate for the first time, he became obsessed with the color magenta on you

Diavolo’s pact is the smallest one you have, formed to be discreet and to be able to fit behind your left ear; it's unnoticeable unless someone is actively looking for it. When in use, it’s a dull maroon shade- no brighter than one of those glow in the dark star decals. The feeling is that of having a powerful sugar rush. 

Adores cupping your face for a kiss and being able to press his fingers against his mark discreetly 

Was actually a bit pouty when he discovered it was far more hidden that the other pacts you have, but got over it pretty quickly

Got into the habit of brushing your hair behind your ear, just so he could touch his pact

Kisses the center of it every time you leave the castle 

His home screen is a picture of you holding your hair up, revealing his mark, as you stick your tongue out playfully 

++extra bonus 

You get Simeon’s on the inner part of your right thigh, another one medium in size— about 3.5 inches in diameter, top to bottom. Activating it makes the pact shine with a gentle turquoise color. It’s a feeling of tranquility, of being secure and relaxed. 

Enjoys resting his head over the mark whenever you’re both laying around 

Caresses that area every time you’re seated in his lap

Even he didn’t expect it, but he’s also a biter; he’s gentle with it, though, knowing his mark is at a rather tender spot until those possessive urges hit

Involuntarily scowls when he sees one of the others touching the area his mark is at

+++extra extra reverse!bonus 

Your pact mark goes right over Solomon’s pelvic bone— a nice medium size to where it doesn’t show above his pants (if someone were to catch him with his shirt off). It swirls a pearlescent white when activated. 

You send him a sly look anytime he talks to one of the other demons he has a pact with (except for Barbatos) and it makes him weak every. single. time.

He practically keens every time you glide your nails across your pact

Embarrassed when he finds a picture on your D.D.D of him laying on his back, your thighs locked on either side of him, with your fingers curled in the fabric of his pants, pulling the material down just far enough to see your pact (but he doesn’t make you delete it)

Has to refrain from jolting whenever you sneak up behind him and press your hand down over your mark

Don’t even get him started on the times you and Barbatos team up to tease him

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (3) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.3k words

warnings: angst, talk of mental illness and su!cidal ideations, allusions to trafficking, mentally unstable reader who's in denial, allusions to death and violence, hurt/comfort, arguments, something gets thrown in anger, terms of endearment, dreams of domestic bliss, savior complex Finnick and reader, no use of y/n, unedited

⠀ 𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The familiarity of the train car made you shudder. The first time its elegance had amazed you, but now it was commonplace, a trade for everything else that had been given. The escort who you'd known for years, but always blocked out because of her unmatchable insensitivity was babbling on in her overwhelming syrupy voice as your brain buzzed with anxiety. When the smashing of a glass on the train's wall brought you back to the audio of the train cab.

“Can we wait to break things until the games? After all this time, Finnick, you still need your manners." She tutted, waving her hand in the air. “Plenty of time to get the aggression out later, right now just bask in the attention. Now I'm going to go check over the mentoring plans." Her neon purple eyebrows were so animated when she spoke and the color assaulted your eyes, the click of her heels echoing she exited.

Finnick had buried his head in his hands over a counter top as you quietly knelt down to pick up pieces of shattered glass. An Avox would end up cleaning the mess later, but you didn't feel comfortable just leaving it there.

“Why can't I help you?" His voice was much softer and more broken than you'd expected. Calloused hands holding his face as he stared out the train window.

“Help me?" Your confusion was evident. "You have helped me.”

“No I haven't, I'm an enabler." He shook his head, sniffling through the tears you hadn't noticed forming, your heart cracking.

You stood, dropping the glass pieces you'd been holding to approach him. "No you're not, Finnick, enabling what? Talk to me.”

He turned to you, "Talk to me. You're always trying to take care of me, angel, and I love that about you. But you use it as an excuse to hide the fact you're not doing better.”

"I am doing better, I don't understand what you're talking about, Finnick! I understand if you're angry, I just-”

"What? You looked at Annie and thought, ‘She’s too fragile to handle this, so why don't I take it all on for her? I can handle this.’" 

You nodded, “I can! I couldn't let her- I couldn't let her die.”

“But you can let yourself?" He had raised his voice ever so slightly, but it was enough that your chest was tightening. “You're punishing yourself for what you had to do to survive when you were 17! This isn't about altruism, this is about guilt."

“I'm not selfish.” Your voice was steely, you were angry. Why was he trying to pry at things that were of no matter to the present issues? "I'm doing my part, it wouldn't be right of me not to!" 

"Nobody thinks you're selfish except yourself. You could die because you want to prove something about what happened in the arena. That arena is gone, you need to focus on the now. On your now, not mine. You want to suffer in silence, you want to focus on everybody else to make up for living.”

"Stop it, Finnick! I don't want to talk about this. Be upset with me, but there are more important things to focus on.” You refused to make eye contact as you wrapped your arms around your body. There was a rebellion to plan for, no time for a psychoanalyzation of your brain, so you needed to deflect.

“You're my wife, angel, there's nothing more important to me than that. Especially since I've done such a shitty job letting you sit there, comfort, and listen to my problems while you only ever ask to be held. Why don't you trust me?” He stepped closer to you, voice delicate.

"I do trust you.” You kept your eyes planted on the ground. He was supposed to be angry or sad, but not whatever this was.

"Then why don't you say anything after you get a call from the Capitol? Why is it always only a few minutes after your nightmares to discuss how you feel, but every other waking moment is about me? I want to protect you, I want you to stop ruining yourself over the past and let me help you like you do for me.”

“I don't want to talk about it, Finnick." You were pushing down the onslaught of tears beginning to fall down your frozen face. “Can we please, not talk about it." You whispered as you shrunk into yourself.

“We have to start dealing with it, you are self-destructive, just because you hide things doesn't mean you're better set then Annie is. You are not going to step into this arena and sacrifice yourself for someone to make up for the fact you killed Conway six years ago."

“You're being mean."

“No I'm not, I'm being honest. You won't deny it because you know I'm right, this is a suicide mission to make up for all of them. Dying the second time around doesn't bring them back and neither will anything else. But if you put yourself in danger to make up for things we all had to do to be where we are now, you'll be killing me too.” 

You began walking straight past him, to comfort and be comforted was the dance that held you which was being broken as each second passed. This was unfair, having trauma didn't make you as hurt as him or Annie. You just had natural human feelings about what had happened and reconciling for that wasn't dangerous.

“You can't just walk away when I stop coddling you for a second, this is all going to be okay, if you can recognize and let me help you heal. If we're gonna do this I need the rational version of you." He trailed behind you as you kept walking.

“I don't need to be coddled, I'm sorry if you're sick of me trying to help you and everyone else, but that doesn't mean-" You gasped for air, “I'm just, I'm trying to help, maybe I am making up for what I did. I'm just sorry and I'm trying to help because I can't bear seeing other people having that light snuffed out of them. I want you to feel safe, and Annie, and Mags, and Ondine, that helps me.”

"See we can start there, you don't have to make up for what you did. Everyone did things to survive, we were kids. I can help you if we talk about it.”

"How are you supposed to help me, Finnick? I did worse things than you did, of course I'm guiltier, I preyed on someone's mind, on their feelings for me and then I killed them. And I'm so, so sorry for it everyday of my life and I feel it gnawing at my insides. I'm sorry that he's dead. I'm sorry that I was manipulative. I'm sorry for the person's I created. I'm sorry that I lied to you. I'm sorry that you're right. I'm sorry that I need to make it go away, Finnick, and it won't go away until I give it something equal even if it means I-” You wiped the tears from your face, “Finnick, I don't talk about it because being with you is reason enough to keep my grounded most of the time. I don't need to say anything when I see you and it's an easy reminder why I'm living."

“You shouldn't want to live just because of me. I want to be there for you, but when you feel that way I need you to be honest. You don't need to atone for any things, you deserve life. If we're going to go into that arena, you need to start believing that because I will not let you die. I love you and I need you to survive, to make it through with me to the end.”

You'd stopped walking and were leaning your back against the train wall. Nodding slowly, you were exhausted.

"I know you don't believe that right now, but I will make you believe it, my love.” His hand caressed your face and the radiating warmth made your ice cold face shudder.

You stared at him in silence before you let the sobbing take over your body. " I'm sorry, I don't know how to deal with it. I want to be better, I do, but I just can't. It won't go away.” His arms enveloped you like sunshine, guarding you from everything else.

“I know, sweet girl, I know." 

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Meanwhile Haymitch had to take the initiative to begin introducing his new tributes to the pack of well known, well introduced victors. Unbeknownst to Katniss and Peeta, he would of course be pulling strings to make sure they were in close proximity or at least had the attention of certain victors for the plan being hatched.

Katniss had not seemed thrilled at the idea of Finnick, but she was rarely thrilled with anyone.

“This year we have some volunteering, which will definitely spice things up a little bit. Two couples in one game, especially when one has been adored by the Capitol for years will keep their attention." Haymitch gestured to the screen where you were sending Annie back to the line with the other female tributes.

"Didn't she also have a relationship with the male tribute last time, isn't that how she won her games?" Katniss asked.

“Yes, Capitol Princess, she is just as adored, but more tame. The less cocky side of the duo you could say."

“I bet you he's not going to protect her when it comes down to it since she did the same thing last time. He's got to know that's just how she plays the game." Katniss reasoned, doubt of everyone taking hold.

“I'd be extremely surprised if that happened, they've been with each other for years and oh-" The cameras zoomed in on the seaweed and made rings on your fingers as you held hands. “Looks like that bond has gotten ever stronger. They'll be a pair and if she does die it would be a sad day, Katniss. She's a really nice lady regardless of what she did to win at 17.”

"It's not that different from you, you just got lucky.” Peeta remarked.

“I'm just saying she wouldn't be an easy ally to trust, I mean didn't she kill all of them when it came to the end?" Katniss shrugged, leaning forward. 

“This isn't about trust, it's about survival. You need allies, even if it means they end up dead at the end, you need them to survive. You're both fresh meat, these people have built a repertoire with each other for years. You're gonna need some of them on your side for as long as you can." 

"And you want us to go with them?”

" It wouldn't be a bad idea.” Peeta shrugged, "If he's gonna protect her then we'll be protected too.”

"Yeah until we become perceived threats too.”

"Hey, I'm just laying out your options. There are 22 tributes to pick from, I know these people so I'm giving you my insight. Whether or not you decide to take it is up to the two of you.” Haymitch gestured at both of them before turning back to the screen." So District 5.”

              𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Finnick, what's the plan?" You asked as you two lay in the silky sheets of the bed.

"We have to get Katniss to trust us so we can get her out of the games. We'll be able to plan more once we get there.” His hand lazily lay on your shoulder,  grazing strands of your hair.

"And you'll keep me updated? No secrets?”

"No secrets, my love.” You hummed contently as you snuggled yourself deeper into his shoulder. "When we're in the arena, you need to stick by me. They'll probably try to split us up somehow, we can't let that happen.”

"I can take care of myself if it does.” You assured.

"I know that, but I need to know that you're safe. That you're not trying to throw yourself in front of someone else to save them before you.”

"Even if it's Katniss?” You said lightheartedly.

"We need to get her out of there, but I won't let that be at your personal risk. I owe you a real wedding, remember?”

"Oh, I remember. One with a dress.”

"Any dress you want, angel. So you have to listen to what I say, just this once, and stay with me in the arena and do as I say to stay alive.”

"That's two times.” You joked. " I don't know if I'm capable of doing that.” 

“Haha, very funny." He rolled his eyes. Silence took over for a second and you closed your eyes to let yourself rest with him. “I promise we'll get out of this and you'll get the life you deserve, we deserve."

“I trust you."

“Good because I mean it. We'll have our house back overlooking the ocean where little kids will run around outside, soaking up the sun and salt air. They'll have your beautiful laugh and your hair that'll whip around as they run.”

"And you're angel eyes, plus that disarming smile. We'll have to be on the lookout or we'll always give them their way.”

“You can read to me as I fish, you can sit on your favorite rock and I'll collect you all treasures. Annie and Mags will watch them so we can occasionally sneak away to swim in the sunset." 

"Oh you've got it all planned out, haven't you?”

"Of course, my love, the perfect life we can have when we're free from all of this.”

"Then I guess I'll have to listen to you to make that happen.” You laughed tiredly, body relaxing.

"Exactly, Mrs. Odair, so I can make sure our dreams come true, that everyone gets a chance to do the same.” Oh, your sweet, sweet boy. 

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all so much for reading and for all the feedback! someone mentioned wanting to see haymitch presenting them and I thought that would be a great addition so thank @almostjollypizza for suggesting that! not gonna lie this was kind of a difficult chapter to write but I hope you guys enjoyed it, I'm excited to get to the Capitol and the stuff there. I have so many ideas! likes, comment, tags, reblogs, and asks are all super appreciated, love you guys, thank you! 💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @skjdksjdhdjd @meri-soni-meri-tamanna

[yaut-jaknowit]

So. Uihoy x Male Yautja (bottom) reader… 

(Okay maybe it’s like a bit Mr. Preg… AAHH..)

Just the reader and him not both getting mates bc it’s that time of the year, but they both hate each other so they try to make fun of one another (one of them actually secretly likes the other and you can choose who), even get into a small fight which later turns into them getting too touchy bc of the heat. Shit gets crazy, rough sex, Like absolutely DOG pounding, breeding, size difference. I’m begging.

Hate Until You're Knotted

Pairing: Uihoy (Male Yautja) x M!Yautja!Reader

Word Count: 3259

Summary: You loathe Uihoy. He's top of the chain. He can get any female he wants. You, a lowly new blooded, have to scavenge and fight for just the taste or smell of a female. What does Uihoy do with this honor? Wastes it. He comes to you, out of his way, to find you.

Author Note: Don’t worry, I also want to get railed by Uihoy too. This is before Vic and Uie met since they were in a relationship before meeting reader. Gonna be honest, I unusually don't write Yautja x Yautja stuff but fuck, I loved writing this.

Masterlist

Ao3

Heavy, thick pheromones ran rampant through the village. Clouding everyone’s judgement, turning hunt brothers against each other. All in the name of breeding, continuing the bloodline. Only the strongest survive in a world designed to maul and slaughter the weak.

Like many of your sex, you were unsuccessful of gaining the favor of a female. A young, less scared male compared to those that have bested you in spars to near death. Anything to prove their worth for a chance to breed. Here you were, nursing your wounds, away from the dense population. There were a few others, scattered about like you, licking their wounds. You had chosen a high tree to pull yourself to the near top. From here, you could keep an eye on the crowd in the main square of the village.

Neon green blood dripped from wounds gained in battle against fierce opponents. As much as you hated to admit it, they were better, deserved whoever choose them after defeating you. Yes, there’s always next year for the season but only Cetanu could only tell if you would make it. Life was life. Death was death. You don’t know if you’ll be there to greet the next season.

Through it all, you caught a whiff of a scent that caused your blood to boil. Uihoy. The older Yautja was… arrogant in his own ways. Rude in others. Downright irritating if you must say. The male wasn’t one to mess with often. He did stick out like a sore thumb. His sexuality something that wasn’t popular among the Yautja kind. It did not produce offspring.

It is not frowned upon but discouraged. Yautjas were strong, mighty, and hunters. If males or females copulated with their own sex, the birth rate would decrease. Death was already high, especially for those that are young, learning.

Not that you had anything against mating with the same sex. No. But Uihoy was an icon for the village and he wasted his talents, his seed on something that wouldn’t produce anything. You scowled. How does a male like him not take pride in breeding with the females who are willing? You have to fight for your right while many females request him by name.

The tree shook from added weight. Your claws dug into the bark from the slight disturbance. Your head whipped down to find the face you wanted to cave in so badly closing in. Your jaw dropped behind closed mandibles at the sight. What the pauk is he doing? He knows I’m up here. This was purposeful.

Uihoy stopped to perch on a branch a foot above you, on the other side of the thick tree. A look of passiveness barely readable on his face. Not cocky. He knew his limits, where he stood on the chain of power within the village. Intelligent but respectful. He was about a hundred years from being deemed an elder. A title you believed he wouldn’t take. Not with the way he moves with ease.

Blazing eyes flicked between the cuts that marred your skin. You saw the way his chest rise with a deep breath. “Don’t speak,” you snapped at him and began to close up a cut along your thigh. The deepest, longest of any others. It required to be burned closed. You held your tongue when pain stung as the laser worked.

The purple Yautja snorted airily. “And why should I listen to you?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you over a mandible while exposing his neck. Your eyes twitched at the sight before narrowing on form. The laser was forgotten about and drove off course. You snarled and turned off the damned thing. Your jaw and lower mandibles jerked at the unneeded pain. Yet, in the moment, you steel your facial expressions the best possible. Uihoy didn’t need to see you weak, weaker than he saw you as younger male.

A scoffed then light scratching from nails digging into bark filled your ears. Before you had a chance to take notice was happening, Uihoy hopped over onto your branch and knelt next to you. Uihoy snatched the laser from your hands. “Youngling, you must pay attention or else you risk injuring yourself more,” he scolded and began to work on the rest of the wound.

If you didn’t want the laser to stray from its path, you willed yourself not to jerk away from him. His touch was prominently warm on your thigh. The hand not holding the welder was resting right above the wound, close to the apex of your legs.

Instantly, you blamed the scents that filled the air for the feeling growing in your stomach, for the way your cock roused in its sheath. It was the pheromones that clouded your judgment. Your jaw was locked, throat closed to stop any sounds from escaping.

Then, his hand shifted higher. You had enough.

You shoved the bigger Yautja away from you then your feet were underneath you. A glare settled on Uihoy, ready pounce if it came to it.

Uihoy nearly slipped off of the branch he was perched on but easily corrected the unbalance. He stood a fair distance away from you with a large grin on his face, tongue flickering out to smell the air. C’jit. His head lowered just enough he stared from underneath his brows. C’jit.

A drop of freezing water dripped down the length of your spine, then Uihoy sprung. The older Yautja could move. Fast. Faster than you were expecting. His body slammed into yours. Claws dug into your shoulders as his weight throw you backwards. Off the edge of branch and heading towards the ground closing in quickly.

To save yourself from pain of a mild fall, you twisted your body and latched onto the nearest branch. Your shoulder jarred, nearly pulling out of the socket at the weight of not only you but Uihoy gripping onto you as well. You release a snarl and kicked out a knee at Uihoy. The male grunted yet took the hit. His talons dug into the flesh of your shoulders, deeper and drawing rivets of blood. You growled and attempted to throw him off. Your one handed grip was weakening.

Your other hand latched onto thick bark as you held on. The purple Yautja snickered and lifted himself up enough to hold onto the same branch. This was your opportunity to kick him, using his body as a spring board and land on another branch further down. The leaves rattled at your landing. You lowered yourself into a ready position as Uihoy lifted himself and crouched as well.

Cocky but not, Uihoy held an aura of confidence around him. His body was lax enough to let his guard down. He did have the high ground and left you at a disadvantage. You didn’t let him take any opportunities to attack though.

The trunk of the tree was used as a foothold to launched yourself high up, above Uihoy. His eyes watched your actions, body moving into a position to take anything you served.

The first punch of the day was thrown, right at Uihoy’s beautiful face; ready to send him flying off of the tree. But the male ducked and counterstruck with a fist straight to your stomach. It almost sent you careening off the edge once more. Your claws dug in to steady yourself once more.

He eyed you up and down, scanning for points of weaknesses. The same thing you returned for the shy moment given to the two of you before the giants clashed again. He came at you this time with claws. The skimmed acrossed your chest, drawing trickles of blood down your sweaty skin. You couldn’t help the keen before returning the same fire at him.

Unlike the purple Yautja, you weren’t as lucky to draw blood. Uihoy was pushing hard, fast, throwing things you hadn’t even trained about at you. At points, it was dizzying. Now, you were just trying not to fall off or perish to him. He had every right to do so. It wasn’t against the code.

Your foot takes a step back but the way the branch dips means this was the end. Anymore and you could meet the ground harshly. When Uihoy takes a swing at your face, you lower yourself down to a crouch. The fist flies milliseconds later over your head. You spring and pushed with all of your force backwards.

Midair, you arch your back and force all of your weight over yourself. Then, your feet touch down on a branch on a different tree. It wavers at the sudden, new weight added to it but held strong enough for you to back up away from the oncoming purple Yautja.

From one branch to other trees, the two of you dance for what felt like hours. Possibly could’ve been. You only come to release the overwhelming scent from the mating grounds is faint when Uihoy pins you to the trunk of a tree. A grunt surpasses your throat, eyes clued onto his burning ones. Filled with fire. A fire you didn’t know what sourced from.

A firm hand had found its way to your throat, encasing it and keeping you to the trunk. Instantly, your body went lax. Uihoy could snap your neck before you had a chance to even raise a hand.

It was a stern, mighty gasp that held you. Yet, you didn’t fear it. Anger filled your veins at the fact this pauk-de was taunting, teasing you like prey. You had little chance to win against. It was idiotic to challenge him in the first place. It won’t cost you your life. Not while that fire blazed in his orange eyes.

The male leaned in and let his breath fan over your features, eyes blinking slowly. Your scales prickled. His tongue flickered out and tasted upon your skin. His hand tightened. The other palmed along your hip, nails creating divots in the flesh there. “There has been something about that has intrigued me since I first laid eyes upon you,” Uihoy chitters lowly next to your ear. You shivered, throat bobbing from a heavy swallow.

That’s when you smelt it. Heavy, thick in the air yet sweet to draw you in. N’dui’se. You felt the blood in your body screeching to a halt and immediately rushing towards your core. Unsure, uncontrolled, your own musk entered the air. It swirled, combed with Uihoy’s as the Yautja grunt and pressed harder on your hip.

All of your muscles strained into action to pin the male down. Uihoy locked his own down and kept you there. The claws attacked to the hand around a vital part of your being dug into flesh. He released a chest rumbling bellow of a warning. He had you. You could only watch as the male leaned back enough to find your eyes.

The other limb skimmed down just a couple of inches then grabbed a fistful of cloth. Your waistband was promptly ripped off in one go and absentmindedly tossed to the side. Before you could even squeak something pathetic, warm flesh palmed at the wetting slit close to the apex of your thighs. Your head was thrown back, exposing your neck to the male before you. An action that could cost you your life if it was anyone else. Uihoy attacked.

Sharp, lethal teeth latched onto the flesh of your throat. Just enough pressure to warn you who had the cards in hand. Uihoy purred pleased and let his upper hand fall away rest on your hip. The other kept working away, causing more slick to build up.

His touch was driving you wild. He knew it. He was doing it on purpose. Your mandibles gritted together at the bubbling rage at him. Like a volcano with molten rock rising to the surface, ready to blow when the time was right. And you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of coaxing your cock out.

Gathering all of your energy, you shoved at Uihoy with everything you had. For once, you believed to caught the male off guard as he stumbled back, adding a fair amount of distance.

How wrong you were.

He was back on you in a split-second. Hands. Claws. Teeth. All seared across your scales until you were forced onto your front on the branch. Uihoy’s heavy weight draped over your back like shadows swallowing you whole. It was enough to keep you underneath him. A roaring bellow sounded from the Yautja as he made his claim vocal. “Ze-rei.” Fire. “You have fire that I want to consume.”

Despite Uihoy pinning you to the branch, you still wiggled and struggled. It wasn’t enough to throw the male off though.

All movements stopped at the feel of something blazing and wet resting against the tight ring of muscles behind your sack. Your eyes jerked wide open, head yanked up at the feeling. The head of your cock speared through your slit but didn’t move an inch more.

The body on top of you sat up. Hands grabbed at globes of your cheeks and spread them as far as possible. You squirmed this time uncomfortably at the fact he was putting you on display for him. Your claws dug into the bark underneath. “This is my new favorite sight,” Uihoy mumbled lowly to himself, a wide grin marking his face.

Then, the tip speared into you. Pain rocketed inside of you, eyes rolling back into their sockets at the feeling. Your mandibles flared open in a silent cry. But… you pushed back on Uihoy. More of his shaft disappeared inside of you, even if it was only an inch. Uihoy took the signal and thrusted his hips flush with your thighs.

Uihoy’s weight nearly collapsed on top of you as he struggled to stay upright. Something you never thought to see from the older Yautja. He tensed his muscles, talons prickling the skin along your cheeks and lower back. “I lied… this, this is my new favorite sight,” he growled before drawing his hips back.

The drag of each ridge and bump on the sides of his thick cock had you seeing stars already. All the way until just the tip was snug inside. Without warning, he forced his length back into you. The strength behind the thrust had you scrapping forward.

A low groan vibrated along Uihoy’s spine. “You’re so tight,” he stated like it was a fact. It was to be honest. You’ve never ventured outside to learn more about yourself. But after just the tiny taste, the littlest of drop from this, you’ll never be satisfied. “You’re going keep squeezing me out.” Uihoy bent at the waist. “Relax.” A hand placed next to your head while the other kept an even pressure on your shoulder blade. “I don’t know if you can even take my knot.”

Bark groaned as claws raked across the layer. You fantasized the thought of knotting another but never being knotted yourself. That ignited a hunger you never knew existed inside of you.

Fingers and claws ghosted down the length of your spine then diverted where your hip meets your thigh. Uihoy started a beginning pace to warm you up, to loosen up the muscles locked. Heat flared at the base of your spine as his touch palmed at the space below your slit. Your cock still barely peaking out. You weren’t going to give in easily. He had to take what he wanted.

The limb next to your head prevented you from slipping away from him, trapped under his thick body. His movements increased with speed but more importantly: harshness. Like any other male in the season, he was losing himself. His control slipping right of his fingers. There wasn’t a single thing he could do to stop it.

Thick finger grasped at what peaked out from between your legs. You gasped and rutted into the hand before a dark snarl had you stopping. The digits moved down where two rested apart from each other. They were in the space between your sack and slit, on either side of where your straining cock resided still inside of you. Uncomfortably. Very uncomfortably.

A single roll of his fingertips had you seeing stars. The rest of your length shot out like a plasma shot that it hurt at out fast it unsheathed. You choked out a harsh gasp and jerked back into the male controlling you. His hips went flush with yours while your muscles locked tight around his shaft. Uihoy roared. A hand flying to your hip while his claws dug into your flesh.

“Pauk!” he snarled into the tense air.

Something shifted in the air. You didn’t know what but could feel something change.

Uihoy reared his hips back just until the tip just sat inside. Without remorse, he bullied it back into you. This new pace was harsh, rough, uncaring. He was dominating you; taking what he wants and not caring about anything else. The only thing keeping you from sliding off the branch was the limb next to your head and his claws piercing your skin.

Your own talons dug into the bark, clawing away at the trees barrier for purchase. His thrusts are a driving force to reckon with. The ridges along his cock adding to the friction that winds you up. Pleasure growing at a rate you couldn’t fight, couldn’t stop if you wanted it.

His thick waist started to stutter, pace growing wary. The claws tearing into your flesh, drawing blood were pulled out. The pain in their wake was brushed off.

Between your trembling legs, your cock was painfully hard, weeping from the tip. As desperately as you wanted to reach underneath and touch yourself, Uihoy beat you to the punch.

A firm grip wrapped around your shaft. The pressure sent your eyes rolling into the back of your head, hips faltering on either to drive back or forward. Drool hung from your jaw. You were an utter mess of pre-cum, drool, and blood.

The grasp slipped down to your growing knot and squeezed. A vice grip. Stars exploded in your vision. You shattered like glass. Your cocked twitching wildly at each new pump of sperm staining the tree. His hand never relenting the pressure even as the overstimulation began to hurt.

He switched his other arm to wrap firmly around your torso and kept you flush to him. Snarls, growls, bellows poured from the male’s throat before he keened a high pitch. His hips slapped to yours. A pleasurable pain sprouted to life as you felt his knot inflate inside of you. The feeling completely foreign to you. You grunted and squirmed.

Uihoy snarled at you in warning. In reaction, you growled back at him.

Sharp teeth punctured the muscle that corded your shoulder. You choked on a gasped and went ridged underneath him. He had made his point and untangled his fangs from you. The Yautja leaned up, all he could do while tied to you.

“Look at that. You were able to take my knot,” he snarked down at you. You huffed. The energy once in your body was depleted for the moment. Yet, you could already feel your core filling the same need as before.

Pleasure shot through you like a plasma shot when his hand tugged at your sensitive cock. You bucked back at Uihoy to stop but the grip tightened. C’jit. And you were at his mercy.

[callsigns-haze]

Moody Booty

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin sulks after losing a bowling game to his girlfriend, Y/N, but she quickly cheers him up by challenging him to pool, knowing he'll win and lighten up.

Word count: 1.1k

Warning: Mild competitiveness, brief sulking, and playful teasing.

Jake Seresin was a man who loved a challenge. Whether in the cockpit, in a bar, or in a game, he hated to lose. His call sign, Hangman, wasn’t just a name—it was a promise that he’d never leave anyone hanging. But tonight, under the fluorescent lights of the bowling alley, he was losing. And that, for Jake, was the worst possible outcome.

The bowling alley was buzzing with the hum of casual competition. Lanes filled with the clatter of rolling balls and crashing pins, and the sharp bursts of laughter from groups around them. Y/N, standing beside Jake, was holding a bright, neon-coloured ball in her hands. She smirked at him as she lined up for her shot.

“You ready for this, Seresin?” she teased, knowing full well that she was beating him by at least 30 points.

Jake leaned back against the scoring table, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with that sharp, cocky grin he wore like a second skin. But there was something beneath it—something tense. The way his jaw clenched when she knocked over another strike wasn’t subtle. Y/N knew him too well.

“I’m always ready, darlin’,” he drawled, even though the score didn’t lie. He was down—way down.

Y/N turned and flashed him a grin, eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and triumph. She knew she was good at bowling, but Jake? Jake always thought he could master anything. And tonight, he was realizing that wasn’t always the case.

By the time the tenth frame rolled around, it was clear. Y/N had won. She threw her hands up in mock celebration, twirling around to face Jake, who hadn’t said much after her last couple of strikes.

“That’s game!” she announced, but Jake’s expression didn’t change. He was still grinning, but it wasn’t reaching his eyes anymore.

Y/N bit back a smile.

She knew that look.

Jake hated losing—hated it more than anything. And when he did lose, he tended to sulk. Not openly, never making a scene, but he’d go quiet, his confidence dented just enough to affect his mood. Tonight was no different.

He didn’t say a word as they walked out of the alley, his hand firmly in hers, but she could feel the tension radiating from him like a storm brewing. He didn’t pout, didn’t snap—but he didn’t talk either. The air between them was thick with the unspoken truth that Y/N had, against all odds, beaten the unbeatable Jake Seresin.

“Jake?” Y/N asked as they slid into his truck.

“Hmm?” he grunted, eyes fixed straight ahead as he turned the key in the ignition.

“You’re not mad, are you?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

“I’m fine,” he said, but the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

Y/N rolled her eyes. She’d been through this enough times to know how Jake worked. When it came to anything competitive, especially when she was involved, he always took it hard if he didn’t come out on top. It was something that could have been frustrating if it weren’t for how endearing it was. For someone who was usually so self-assured, Jake’s moments of vulnerability, even when they were over something as silly as a bowling game, were rare and almost charming.

“I beat you, Jake,” she teased, knowing it would only needle him further. “I kicked your butt. Admit it.”

“Congrats,” he muttered, still not looking at her.

She grinned, biting her lip to keep from laughing. It was too easy. She reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“You know what?” she said, her tone light and playful. “How about we head to the bar? We’ll play a couple of rounds of pool.”

At that, Jake finally looked at her, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. He knew what she was doing—pool was his game. She was offering him a way to restore his pride, to get back to what he was good at.

Y/N smiled sweetly, knowing she had him hooked. “Come on, I’ll let you win.”

Jake’s grin finally returned in full force, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark. “You’ll let me win?” he repeated, the arrogance creeping back into his voice.

“Well,” she drawled, “I figure you could use a little victory after that brutal defeat.”

Jake snorted and shook his head, but some of the tension eased from his shoulders. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

Y/N gave him a wink. “Only because I am.”

He chuckled, the sound finally breaking the silence that had settled over him after his loss. He reached over, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Alright, darlin’. You’re on.”

They drove toward the local dive bar, where the pool tables were always free and the beer cheap. When they walked inside, the low murmur of conversation greeted them, along with the familiar clinking of billiard balls. Jake immediately moved to one of the tables, grabbing a cue and twirling it between his fingers with practiced ease.

Y/N knew he was back in his element. Pool was Jake’s game, and he was damn good at it. She let him break, watching as he effortlessly sank two balls on the first shot. He straightened up, flashing her a look that was pure Hangman—smug, confident, completely in control.

“You’re gonna regret bringing me here,” he said, lining up his next shot.

Y/N laughed, leaning against the edge of the table, her arms crossed over her chest. “I just want to see you happy, babe. And if it takes letting you destroy me in pool, then so be it.”

He shot her a smirk, sinking another ball. “I’m not letting you do anything. I’m gonna win this fair and square.”

And just like that, the mood between them shifted. The competitiveness was still there, but it was lighter now, wrapped in the comfort of familiarity. Jake was winning, yes, but Y/N didn’t care. Seeing him relaxed, the tension from earlier completely gone, made the game worth it.

As Jake lined up for the final shot, he glanced at her, his eyes softening. “You know I hate losing, right?”

Y/N smiled. “I know.”

He sank the eight-ball with a satisfying crack and then stood, giving her a triumphant look. “But I don’t mind as much when I’m with you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, moving toward him. “You’re such a sap, Jake.”

“Only for you, darlin’,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

And with that, the loss at the bowling alley was forgotten, replaced by the easy comfort of a victory Jake was more than happy to enjoy—with her by his side.

[wowcatboys]

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HEARTSTEEL KAYN/READER : KISSES ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW, NSFW under bold header ♡ TW: Sexual Content ♡ Please don't ask me how much I spent on RP when the skins released!!! IT'S NOT RELEVANT !!

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KAYN

Kissing Kayn is damn near indescribable. It's all his passion, his excitement, his energy, all focused on you. It's like, well...picture this. The pins-and-needles sensation when your leg falls asleep. The burn of sunbaked summer pavement on bare feet. The gasp that comes when you get shocked by static electricity. Hazy neon signs, spicy cologne, ice water after mint gum. Somehow, Kayn feels like all of this at once.

Kayn really likes those double-sided mints, the ones that are half strawberry. He's usually crunching his way through a pack of those, so it's not rare to kiss him and taste a hint of strawberry and the coolness of mint.

If you think you're going to get away with giving Kayn a tiny peck on the lips, think again. Go ahead, try to whisper your lips against his and pull back. "Uhhh," he raises an eyebrow, scowling, "what's that bullshit about? Come back here." Kayn slides a quick hand around the back of your neck, all-but-crashing you back into his mouth. He doesn't let you go until your bottom lip's shiny with his spit, and your cheeks are heating up.

If you catch Kayn when he's extra sleepy, though, you might get some sweet kisses out of him. Pull him close as he's stirring in bed and pepper kisses across his cheeks like freckles. He'll squish you to himself and lazily touch down on your forehead, your temple, the bridge of your nose. He's the sweetest when he's half out-of-it.

Kayn has zero shame. He will kiss you in front of anyone, and he will kiss you anywhere. If you want a kiss? You get a kiss. Anytime, anyplace.

Just because he's gone full-Rhaast doesn't mean he loses the urge to kiss you. If anything, his urges get stronger. The need to have you, to show everyone you're his, to be so close to you there's barely room to breathe in between. Often, he'll tip the edge of his mask up just to put his mouth on yours.

His favorite place to be kissed is his neck. Kayn's extremely sensitive there. If you attack his throat with little love bites, pausing over his Adam's apple, he squirms into your touch, sighing happily—you might even coax a giggle out of him, if you're persistent enough. (If you call him out on it, though? He will never admit to such a cute noise. "I was coughing," he insists.)

Kayn's favorite place to kiss you? Well, if you're in public...he's a classic mouth man. He loves nothing more than the softness of your lips and the warmth of your tongue.

N S F W

If you're in private, though? Kayn's favorite place to kiss you is just below your waistline, right on the edge of your underwear. He lingers there just before catching your underwear between his teeth and tugging them off of you.

Kayn doesn't kiss you during sex, so much as he attaches to you like a leech. His mouth is always on you, always moving, up and down your neck, hovering over your chest, pausing on your shoulders. And he bites. Gently, most of the time, but he's been known to leave bruise-dark hickies in places spilled over your skin. He's especially rough if you're topping him, riding him within an inch of his fucking life. Kayn's been known to leave teeth marks if you're really blowing his mind.

Who would Kayn be if he wasn't at least a little bit disrespectful to everyone, always? He loves to spit in your mouth. Don't worry, though, he takes it just as good as he gives it. If you spit in his mouth right back, he's instantly so hard it's almost painful.

[wisteriaiswriting]

Hello! May I request for Sova, Iso, Gekko, Jett, cypher, and Reyna reacting to a reader who absolutely loves sour things? For example she eats lemons like oranges in a daily basis and eats super sour candy like it's nothing

𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕪 ℙ𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕪 𝕃𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟 𝕊𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕫𝕪

Words: 864

He’ll search around for any type of sour recipes, to either make them himself or find someone else if he has a lack of time.

Most of the time he’ll try the food, whether or not he actually likes them (I imagine him as a spicer type.) you’ll be able to have the majority.

He’ll search around for any type of sour recipes, to either make them himself or find someone else if he has a lack of time.

Most of the time he’ll try the food, whether or not he actually likes them (I imagine him as a spicer type.) you’ll be able to have the majority.

***

Hours ago he left, and the only answer you got when asked was ‘Market.’ It seemed he was planning something as he would normally tell you, and even ask if you would accompany him.

This time though you were left in the dark until he returned. Which luckily wasn’t too long ago, now you had to endure him removing you from the kitchen for who knows how long. First he leaves you then bans you from your own house? What was he up to?

Well luck seemed to be on your side today as he was quick to call for you. Returning to see a bunch of packets on the counter, a closer inspection only showed Russian writing on them. Even with the images you had no clue.

“Y/N, I believe you’ve been asking about my homelands candy?”

Oh…

Majority of the time he just… doesn’t notice the amount of sour stuff you eat.

The only items he notices are the wrappers, fruits and other foods, although he won’t question you about it.

***

Recently Iso had started noticing a few things. Such as candy wrappers, especially sour candy. The fruit bowls had more lemons and other citrus fruits then the normal ones, the pantry was similar.

It wasn’t weird though, he had his preferences and you had yours. It just seemed to be sour food. While he wouldn’t eat it much if you enjoyed it he wouldn’t complain.

He’s learnt to handle anything but sour growing up.

If you eat anything sour in his sight he will openly cringe, might say something as well.

***

Gekko was bored. Everyone else was either on a mission or just too busy to deal with him, except you. He found you in the kitchen, eating what he assumed were grapes, from a bowl.

“Mateo, what some?” You held your hand out, which held the fruits. Ones he took gracefully. The sweet flavour never showed, instead covered by immediate sourness. Causing him to spit them out.

“What was that?”

“Hmm?”

“Those!” He pointed at the mess.

“Oh, they’re Gooseberries.”

She's cooked and tasted more than her fair share of sour food, so she’s learnt how to handle it.

Is aware not many people can handle sour well, but that won’t stop her from teasing anyone.

***

It was Jett’s turn to make dinner, and this time she made Tungsuyuk. She’s grown so used to cooking for the both of you she honestly forgot how others couldn’t handle the sourness of it.

But she also made yours special, able to give you a larger portion. Even then the others couldn’t handle it.

“Jett! What did you put in this?”

“C’mon Neon, I thought you could handle this?” Turns out she couldn’t, watching the group either give up or drink more water.

Due to his connections and access, if there's something you want he’ll be able to get it, the only problem is if he will.

He is kinda a picky eater, also much prefers spice over sour. So he won’t try many, only a select few me might enjoy.

***

The mission brief had just finished, and unluckily for you Cypher managed to scurry off from you. So until he came back around you’d have to either entertain yourself or find someone, but it seems he thought of that already.

As a decently sized box sat on your bed, seemingly just delivered as all the agents were in the meeting. And on top sat a note.

‘My Dear,

Hopefully these are to your liking, I’ll be waiting for your answer.

Love, Amir.’

And you guessed it, the box was full of sour Moroccan snacks and foods. Knowing he’ll be ready to order them and more.

This woman is not fazed, as she’s seen worse things. But will look at you like you asked the dumbest question ever if she sees you eating a lemon, at all.

From her experience souls taste… different to say. And a good few are weirdly sour, so she isn’t too put off by their flavour and sensation.

***

The day was just another, this one neither you or Reyna were to be sent on missions. So you spent it hanging around with others, while she was training. When she finally finished she started walking back to her room, passing you and Gekko in the living area.

A quick glance had her brain assuming you held an orange, nothing out of the ordinary. Until Gekko spoke up.

“Ew dude, why would you- stay away!”

At first she was alarmed until she remembered who you two were. Slowly stepping back to see you holding out the orange- wait no, that's not an orange. You were holding a lemon, one that currently had a bite mark.

At the realization she could only stare at you, turning into a glare when you made eye contact.

“Want some?”