#I’m glad you get new content and things making you happy

[alwida10]

Hm, honestly, I don’t think it’s fair to claim I ignored everything you wrote. Believe it or not - I am trying to find a middle ground here, since I remember you as someone who was once able to have a debate without using as-hominem attacks. If you don’t want to talk, that’s ok. You can always block me, too. I try not to take that personal.

I just came across this other post where an anon asked something about sylvie or Sylki fans and how they describe Loki. Woulddieforloki said there it might sometimes be a defense reaction. They have other reasons, too, but my point is the defense. I feel like this could be very likely be an example of that.

I believe you that you had the part in mind that Loki wanted to protect Asgard! My initial post however asked specifically if people see Loki ruining the coronation “only” for his jealousy. Because that was never mentioned, neither in the anonymous post, nor in your reply. So, a simple “no” or perhaps even “no, but honestly, the jealousy was clearly the main motivation! Like 98% at least. Perhaps there was 0.1% thinking of Asgard and 1.9% mischief craving involved” would have answered that, because - even if you had it in mind - it was not mentioned.

Regarding the harm: invasion of privacy is considered a harm here. If you break into a house it’s a crime even if you don’t break or take anything. And even if the morality of the law can be argued most countries value humans over animals. So, to be clear: I don’t think it’s a crime to report animal abuse even if you only knew it because you broke a law yourself. Imo, in this scenario both should be prosecuted. But other opinions are just as valid. That’s the beauty of discussion ethics. It has many sides.

I disagree though on the heroes not endangering innocents. In a CACW (I think. But sometimes I mix up CW and WS) Steve, Wanda and a few others attack a hydra group at a time when the area is full of people. In fact, Wanda throwing the bomb at a part of the house where innocents die is the major point she gets accused of in the movie. There are other movies showing the same thing. AoU and IW come to mind. Steve even refused to destroy an infinity stone despite vision wanting to do it, and it might have prevented the snap. Technically, it probably would not have, but from the heroes perspective that would have been a likely way to protect innocents. But Steve decided against it. But that’s human. Just, it’s natural a character can’t know what the future will bring. Loki might have thought the Jotun-plan was more fail-safe than your scenarios. We can’t know. (Btw, I never used anti-hero or anti-villain. I think those are boxes we put characters into, but I prefer discussing them all based upon the same norms.)

I don’t agree with you that the stairs led directly to the shield room. As I remember the shield generator is part of the palace. Thor has to fly from the palace to the prison, so the Cursed must have walked quite a bit to reach it. And neither did Loki know about the incoming air attack, so why give him so specific hints? The biggest thing I can imagine is that the guards prefer one of the stairs, so Loki’s advise allowed the cursed to circumvent the first line of fighting. Which, given that the fight was already going when Loki said so, and both stairs on full display, is a bit like saying “I recommend punching the guys in the guard uniforms”. So, yeah, petty, but unlikely he had any idea to what disaster it would lead. I can believe Loki intentionally hurting (but not killing) Thor or Odin, but for me he is definitely not a character that would aid in the murder of his mother. But, as I said, that’s just how I see him. I know a lot of people on Reddit do expect him to do that, and who am I to forbid other headcanons. Like you, I don’t think trauma would justify evil actions or could hail such actions. So, if I would think him capable of matricide, I could not be a fan of him.

And well, you are of course right that sending hate is not a mature or even ok reaction to disappointment. Civil discussions are one thing, If people are open for them, but shitstorms are abuse. But claiming things about the other part of the fandom is not right, too. And honestly, every time I see a post “series antis only want Loki to do evil things” or “they think looking good means you can do no evil” or “they only wanted a vindication arc” I feel so tired because those are not even our real points, but strawmen arguments, fabricated to make the fans of OG Loki the enemy.

It’s funny that, before Sylvie was even properly introduced in the show, she was set up as a Loki variant - you know, Loki, the guy who was a villain of three movies - and somehow people think it’s upsetting that she turns out to have villainous qualities. “Why did she have to kill her fellow variants when she could have tried to free them and join them in a revolution against the TVA?”, I don’t know Becky, why did Loki have to try and commit genocide against his fellow jotunns when he found out he was their stolen prince, instead of joining them against Odin’s imperialism? Why Loki taking out his self esteem issues on a failed attempt to conquer a planet full of innocent people who did nothing to him make him a complex and tormented villain, but Sylvie killing officers who were actively trying to harm her make her a heartless bitch?

It’s literally a theme point that Loki feels connected to Sylvie because her lust for vengeance at all costs reminds him of himself in his villain days (“I’ve been where you are”), but people somehow insist that her anger and cruelty are meant to be seen as positive or heroic, or justified, when the narrative is clearly highlighting them as moral flaws that are weighting her down and that she must put behind her. Not to mention that her arc is not done yet, and we already see the regret creeping onto her when she weeps on the floor after killing He Who Remains.

Loki stans will write walls on meta on how even smallest things about his life, like a brief passage of Heimdall being casually rude to him, or how Volstagg being casually dismissive of him, of even Sif’s brief side eye to him, equals to terrible abuse that explains how he became the bitter villain that he’s turned into. But Sylvie having her reality erased as a child because the equivalent to God Himself has deemed that her very existence was crime against Creation, which forced her to live on the run jumping from one mass death event after the other, seeing everyone she’s ever known being fated to die soon, while she’s hunted down like a dog, is something she should just get over. And that would totally not explain how she became so hardened and angry. Right.

Bottom line: moral ambiguity is for male characters only, women are not allowed to have moral flaws to grow out of, and if Sylvie has a male variant played by Hiddles himself her haters would be fawning over him as their new wobbie villain.

[fastandcarlos]

The Littlest Surprise » Daniel Ricciardo

caption: hello im a new f1 content creator and would love some feedback if you enjoy my fics tysm 🩷

summary: you’ve not been seen at the paddock for a while and the fans are getting worried, little do they know the reason for your absence is about to make everyone’s dreams come true

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, georgerussell63 and 842,420 others

danielricciardo: always a pleasure to have the fam on my side, excited to show the little ones what uncle danny gets up to 🥺

49,302 comments

username1: is this yet another race y/n won’t be at this weekend??

username2: I cannot wait for the day that this man becomes a dad

username3: if y/n doesn’t hurry up and make him a dad…daniel i’m happy to offer my services 😊

maxverstappen1: how big is y/n/n now! she looks so grown up 🥺

danielricciardo: @/maxverstappen1 she’ll be 6 soon, where does the time go??

oscarpiastri: don’t forget your little adopted aussie nephew

landonorris: and your british nephew too!!

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri @/landonorris hey! i might be a bit older but not old enough to be your uncle thank you

username4: anyone else think something might be going on, daniel posting about his family without y/n there is strange

username5: @/username4 let’s not overthink this too much, y/n might just be busy

username4: @/username5 it’s been ages since we last saw her, you gotta admit it’s a bit sus

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 629,301 others

danielricciardo: another great weekend of racing, nice feeling to be back on the podium…man how I missed hearing that champagne pop 🏎️

38,402 comments

charles_leclerc: congrats brother, nice to be up there with you once again

username6: y/n not distracting you anymore to stop you getting on the podium??

username7: @/username6 wtf? why would you suggest such a thing?

carlossainz55: always knew you’d be back up there one day, long may it continue!

yukitsunoda0511: you gotta give me some tips bro, those manoeuvres were lethal today 🔥

pierregasly: danny ric just doing danny ric things

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 922,547 others

danielricciardo: hey team! just wanted to clear up some things after miami this weekend…me and y/n are absolutely fine, had some things going on that I promise we’ll explain soon ❤️❤️ for now tho, here’s an update on life recently ☁️✨

92,174 comments

ynusername: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

username8: I knew you guys would be okay, take as long as you need my two favourites!!

username9: a big screw you to those who doubted you…real fans love you guys

landonorris: I love you guys, here if you need anything brother ❤️

username10: hope whatever is going on clears up soon, we’re missing you guys around here🩷

lilymhe: tell y/n to gimme a call! ily guys ✨

visacashapprb: can’t wait to welcome y/n back into the paddock soon - see you for race week!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, iamrebeccad and 310,409 others

ynusername: it’s been a long few months, but we finally feel ready to share with you our happy news. pregnancy has been tough, I’d love to say it has treated me well, but it hasn’t. I cannot thank daniel enough for being by my side and helping me out whenever I’ve needed him…baby spam incoming ⛅️🍼

ps. each of us chose a picture to share, guess who chose what 🙄

28,461 comments

danielricciardo: words cannot begin to describe how proud I am of how brave you’ve been, the worst of it is over now my love, the countdown to baby ricciardo starts now

danielricciardo: ps my photo is way cooler than yours is

landonorris: omg I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me, uncle Lando reporting for duty!

carlossainz55: the biggest congratulations you two, you’re going to be the best parents

carmenmmundt: so glad to hear y/n is doing better, may the rest of your pregnancy be a dream ✨

lilymhe: the strongest girl I know - so excited to see you become a mum 😍

username11: all my manifesting has paid off, baby ricciardo will be the luckiest

oscarpiastri: AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE!!

estebanocon: my spidey senses were spot on, I knew a baby was on the way!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll and 102,585 others

ynusername: life lately 💫 exhausted but loving all the little things (including daniel 😂)

17,492 comments

username12: y/n looks like she’s living the dream, mum life suits her well 🥺

danielricciardo: im definitely not a “little thing” how else did we end up like this?

landonorris: @/danielricciardo excuse me sir you are about to have a child, sort your humour out

maxverstappen1: glad to see you’re feeling more like yourself again y/n, brunch on me soon!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 yes - let’s not tell daniel #gatecrasher

danielricciardo: @/ynusername you know your comments are public…right?

username13: anyone else wishing they could brunch with y/n too??

lance_stroll: sending all the good book recs your way!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 738,603 others

danielricciardo: babymooning 🍼 the smile says it all, so happy to have my girl back on her feet and feeling like herself again…making the last few memories just the two of us 🥺

83,500 comments

ynusername: thank you for the best couple of days and being my personal taxi driver

username14: look at his face - you can tell daniel is buzzing to be a dad

pierregasly: where was my invite?? I thought we were friends

carlossainz55: and mine!

georgerussell63: me too!

landonorris: looks like we were all forgotten!

visacashapprb: enjoy the break daniel! you and y/n absolutely deserve it 🏁🩷

username15: i speak for all your fans when i say keep the holiday photos coming pls

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 920,355 others

danielricciardo: mum and dad 🔥🥺

tagged: ynusername

58,429 comments

landonorris: adopt me pls, im less problematic than a baby

danielricciardo: @/landonorris debatable

lewishamilton: so glad to see you both so happy, good luck with everything

charles_leclerc: wow!! y/n looks insane (suppose you look alright too daniel!)

ynusername: mum and dad?? i can definitely get used to hearing that 🤩

alex_albon: it’s not fair how adorable you two are, this kid is hella lucky!!

username16: pls keep the baby spam coming, you guys are the sweetest 🍼💫

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lilymhe, yukitsunoda0511 and 109,446 others

ynusername: the many faces of a man who has just remembered he’s just signed up for no sleep for the next 10 years 😂

tagged: danielricciardo

23,201 comments

danielricciardo: after all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? you just wait my love 🫢

ynusername: @/danielricciardo this was too good of an opportunity to miss

carlossainz55: make the most of that middle photo whilst you can danny

georgerussell63: you have NO idea how much I just laughed at this y/n 😂😂😂

schecoperez: speaking from experience, you could not be more correct y/n #dannynosleep

username17: embarrassing dad before even becoming a dad 😬

oscarpiastri: call me for anymore embarrassing daniel pics 😂

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri no one asked for you to show up here

username18: I just want you to be my mum and dad instead 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmmundt and 113,999 others

ynusername: can you believe this man is really about to become a father?? 🤦🏻‍♀️

32,694 comments

charles_leclerc: sometimes i really do wonder what you see in him y/n

landonorris: the biggest clown known to man, still the world’s biggest kid 😂😂

danielricciardo: is that really how you want to talk about the father of your child? I thought you were supposed to love me

ynusername: @/danielricciardo i do, ily very much 🥰

username17: not y/n releasing all the humiliating photos of daniel now they’re about to be parents

username18: y/n’s clearing the phone album for baby spam and giving us daniel spam in return

logansargeant: more to the point, this is the guy you chose as the father of your child??

lilymhe: the two of you are perfect for each other y/n ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 1,403,407 others

danielricciardo: welcome to the world baby ricciardo 💕

after a lot of hardships and tricky times, y/n and i are beyond excited to share with you that our little one is here. everyone is safe, loved and doing well, my heart has never felt so full 🥺

tagged: ynusername

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[norrisainz33]

Besties || OP81

☆ summary: reader and her tv show bestie are big fans of f1 and just happen to be dating the two papaya teammates

☆ pairing: oscar piastri x famous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: chloe rose robertson & none

☆ requested: yes!! thank you so much for taking the time to request 🤍

☆ a/n: y/c/n = your characters name

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

vogue has made a post

liked by ynuser, maiareficco, formula1, yourbff, francisca.gomes, iamrebeccad, landonorris and 765,132 others

vogue: we had the chance to sit down with two of the hottest stars at the moment, y/n y/l/n and maia reficco. we talked about fame, their style icons, formula 1 and the new season of pretty little liars original sin! make sure to read the full article on our website!

view all 657 comments

user1: further proof that my theory is correct and that y/n is dating lando norris

user6: girl what???

user16: ain’t no way

user44: you might actually be on to something here user1

user2: insane crossover - had no idea my favorite show and favorite sport were connected

ynuser: thank you so much vogue!! this was a dream come true 🥹

vogue: thanks for stopping by!

user3: hot girls do watch f1 she’s so right

iamrebeccad: congrats ynuser - this is amazing!

ynuser: thank you rebecca 🤍

user1: taking note of rebecca being here mhm just noticing things

formula1: maiareficco ynuser you’re welcome at a race any time!

maiareficco: ynuser 👀

user4: what is f1 and why are all of the drivers gorgeous??? i’m suddenly obsessed

user7: oh user4 welcome , you’re in for a heck of a ride

ynuser has made a post

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, vogue, maiareficco, baileemadison, yourbff, and 745,234 others

ynuser: soaking up the last bits of summer 🤍

view all 346 comments

user4: are you gonna tell us soon when your new movie comes out or ????

user1: this could easily just be maia and y/n at the beach but also could be a soft launch

rudypankow: top tier beach content

maiareficco: who’s this diva 💜

oscarpiastri: 🤭

landonorris: 👀

maiareficco: 😫

ynuser: 🤨

user1: you guys are killing me

user4: user1 imma need you to break down ur theory bc ur always always at the scene of the crime

user1: ON OT

user23: love seeing you happy ms girl

user64: the way the newest episode had my jaw on the floor!!!

ynuser has posted a story

view all story replies

user1: taking note of the orange colored font 📝 could that be papaya?

yourbff: a smoke show if i’ve ever seen one

ynuser: thank you darling 💋

oscarpiastri: my god i’m so fcking lucky

ynuser: 🥹🥹 babbyyyyyy

oscarpiastri: that’s me 😍

ynuser: i love you so much oscar. i’m so glad i get to spend the next couple weeks with you 🤍

oscarpiastri: i love you more than anything gorgeous 🧡

maiareficco: you are stunning

ynuser: says you 😭

user7: hope they treat you right 😔

jackhughes: who’s the lucky person?

ynuser: a certain formula 1 driver 🥹

jackhughes: should’ve been a hockey player 😉

ynuser: HA jacky no

user9: i’m so jealous of whoever is getting to take you out

landonorris: osc couldn’t stop talking about how excited he is for this date

ynuser: stopppp he’s so cute 😭🫶🏻

user10: the one time i’m hoping the paparazzi get pics bc i wanna know who the heck this person is

ynuser has posted a story

view all story replies

user34: MONACO?! what are you and maia doing in monaco

user1: both papayas live in monaco ☝🏻

alexandrasaintmleux: was sooo lovely meeting you today 🤍

ynuser: omg it was such a pleasure!! thanks to you and charles for having us out on the boat 🫶🏻

mclarenf1: you’re come to a gp when?

ynuser: you tell me admin

mclarenf1: you known if it was up to me you’d already have been to one

oscarpiastri: noticing how nice white looks on you 🤭

ynuser: oscar you can’t just say things like that 🤨

oscarpiastri: oops 🤷🏻‍♂️

yourbff: my invite must have been lost in the post

user12: about to go feral over how gorgeous you look

ynuser has made a post

liked by yourbff, maiareficco, formula1, zendaya, landonorris, oscarpiastri, iamrebeccad, and 876,234 others

ynuser: spoiled 😘

view all 655 comments

user4: you’re so beautiful

zendaya: stunning as always 😘

ynuser: thank you 🥹🫶🏻

user5: you deserve to be spoiled 😭

maiareficco: my best friend i love you 🤍

ynuser: i love you more mwah 💋

user8: mama there’s a man behind you

user1: y/n is that who i think it is?????

user16: the leg is giving more oscar than lando

user1: ughhh maybe??? both of them are in the likes but i swear she’s more of a lando girl and i think maia is with oscar

yourbff: ugh i can’t believe im losing my girl 😭

ynuser: shhh you’ll never lose me!!

user7: a soft launch?! at a time like this?!

user14: if it’s true lando is a lucky lucky man

user12: i promise i could treat you better just give me one chance

maiareficco has made a post

liked by ynuser, formula1, vogue, mtv, prettylittleliars, baileemadison, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 324,123 others

maiareficco: we’re both spoiled 😉🧡

[tagged: ynuser]

view all 321 comments

prettylittleliars: as our girls should be 🤍

user1: taking note 📝 of the orange heart used here maia… did a certain oscar piastri buy you those flowers?

ynuser: yes we are 🤭

maiareficco: might be the luckiest girls ever 🤍 [liked by oscarpiastri and landonorris]

user3: not lando and oscar both liking maia’s comment…. they’re not helping figure this out huh

user16: A DOUBLE SOFT LAUNCH???? my heart can’t take this

f1gossip: we have been summoned

yourbff: hehehe 🤭

user2: what do you know ?! spill the beans

user8: guys dw they’re in love with each other not men

oscarpiastri had made a post

liked by landonorris, ynuser, mclarenf1, maiareficco, formula1, yourbff and 765,245 others

oscarpiastri: feeling well rested and ready to go again in austin after a few weeks away with my princess 🤍

view all 999 comments

user2: i’m in utter shock

user4: someone check on user1

user1: thank you for summoning me. i am confused to say the least - i really thought y/n and lando were together

ynuser: you were close user1! ms maia is lando’s girl 😉

user1: WAHTTTTTTTTTT OH MY GOD LOSING MY MIND

landonorris: can confirm user1

user1: i think im hallucinating

maiareficco: my favorite favorite cutie pies

oscarpiastri: 🫶🏻

ynuser: you’re my favorite my maia

ynuser: had the time of my life with you 🤍

oscarpiastri: lets go on vacation again

ynuser: after brazil? 🤭

oscarpiastri: say no more

user6: do you hear me screaming

landonorris: my best friends are dating 🫶🏻

ynuser: and my best friends are also dating 😍

user7: will you ever iron your shirts king

user81: can’t wait to see you back on track oscar!!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[fazedlight]

Kiss (post-canon fluff)

Fuck.

What was I thinking?

Lena stood frozen at her door, continuing to mentally curse herself, as a wide-eyed Kara stared back.

It had been a fun evening. The pair had cooked dinner together, curled up on the couch to watch a movie together, cleaned up together. Kara had teasingly splashed dish bubbles in Lena’s direction, with Lena taking the sink sprayer for a quick revenge. It was playful and domestic and everything Lena longed for. 

Well, almost everything.

That cozy and domestic warmth filled her chest, and she hadn’t really been thinking as Kara had hugged her before heading out for the night. Lena had simply operated on instinct, pressing a small kiss to Kara’s cheek.

Which led to their current predicament, staring at each other in wide-eyed shock. Friends do that sometimes, right?, Lena thought desperately, praying she would melt into the floor.

But she waited under Kara’s curious gaze, blue eyes darting between hers in silence. “Sorry,” Lena began to whisper-

But Kara leaned forward… placing her own kiss on Lena’s cheek, causing Lena to stiffen in yet another layer of surprise. “Good night, Lena,” Kara said, lingering for a moment as Lena’s heart fluttered.

Kara finally pulled away, leaving Lena wondering what did it mean? “Good night,” Lena replied.

---

They said nothing.

Monday brought its own aggravations as Lena met with a few investors for dinner. She put on the normal smile and dance, speaking decisively of profit margins and dividends, until the night was finally done. The investors filtered their way back to a nearby hotel, and Lena stepped outside for solitude and fresh air - pausing to take in the pleasant evening before calling Hector to drive her back to her condo.

“Walk you home?” came the familiar voice.

Lena turned, smiling as she noticed Kara a few steps away, holding her sneakers. “I’d love to,” Lena said, trading off her heels for the far more comfortable shoes. After a moment, the two began to make their way down the quiet sidewalk.

“I can’t wait until I stop doing this,” Lena said, “I’m ready to be done being CEO.”

“When does Andrea start?” Kara asked.

“Next week,” Lena said, “She’s in Metropolis, meeting with Sam to discuss the finances.”

Kara hummed approvingly. “I’m glad you get to focus on the engineering side again.”

Lena smiled, lightly jabbing Kara’s side. “How about you? How’s being a new Editor-in-Chief treating you?”

“Cat hasn’t changed,” Kara grinned widely, and Lena cast back a knowing look. But Kara’s face softened as she glanced ahead. “Though I realized I sort of have.”

“How so?” Lena asked.

Kara bit at her lip. “It’s harder to pretend to be things I’m not.”

Lena tilted her head in curiosity, but she didn’t press, content to walk arm-in-arm down the street with the contemplative blonde. Kara would say more when she was ready, and Lena was happy to wait.

They eventually came to her building, and then her door. Lena turned around to face the blonde. “Do you want to come in?” Lena said.

To her surprise, Kara shook her head. “I have some thinking to do.”

Lena nodded, but she was surprised when Kara tilted her head forward, eyeing the Luthor for a reaction, asking a silent question. Lena’s gaze was curious - she wondered if Kara was listening to her heartbeat - but she remained steady, shyly granting the permission Kara sought.

Kara pressed a soft kiss to Lena’s cheek. “Good night, Lena.”

Lena could feel herself flush, reaching up with a shaking hand to cup Kara’s face. She leaned to the side, pressing a kiss against Kara’s opposite cheek. “Good night, Kara.”

When she made it to the other side of her door - hearing Kara’s footsteps fade down the hall - she found herself wondering. Is this friendship for her?, Lena thought, mulling over whether the kryptonian knew how unusual their behavior was.

Was it a hint that Kara had developed deeper feelings?

Or would Kara be disconcerted to know that Lena wanted more?

---

LCorp was chaos - in the normal way that any company was with a CEO handoff - and the week passed by in a blur as a result. But Andrea was no rookie, and Lena trusted her enough to start handling the business solo.

Finally.

Lena entered the Tower that Saturday morning with a buzz in her veins. LCorp would certainly have interesting science to tinker with, but magic was still only something Lena could experiment with here. 

She opened her mother’s grimoire, poring over the ancient volume, tapping at a 31st century quantum collider that Brainy had set up in the lab. Magic has to be a form of quantum mechanics, she thought.

Hours went by as she worked. She almost didn’t notice the patter of steps behind her, but she knew who it was. “Kara,” she said, turning to smile at the blonde who brought Chinese takeout in her wake.

“You have to be hungry,” Kara said.

“I didn’t notice,” Lena replied.

The two moved over to a neighboring table, unpacking the food, passing chopsticks and soy sauce before digging in. In a way, it felt like any normal Saturday where they weren’t out saving the world.

But in another way, it didn’t.

Kara seemed almost shy throughout the meal, even as they were cleaning up, even as they made their way to the Tower couches after Lena kicked off another experiment. Something was hesitant in her stance, a small reluctance in meeting Lena’s eyes. Maybe she does feel weird about us, Lena thought, feeling a tenseness in her gut in response.

Before they reached the couches, Kara stopped in her tracks.

“Kara?”

She heard a sigh in front of her. “I can’t pretend anymore,” Kara said.

“Pretend…?”

Kara turned to face Lena, swallowing, eyes darting between her own. The look on her face made Lena’s heart pound uncomfortably in her chest, both wary and impatient for what came next.

But she didn’t have to wait long. “I’m in love with you,” Kara said, “I can’t pretend I’m not.”

Lena’s eyes went wide.

“Nothing has to change,” Kara continued, “But I need you to know how I feel when I’m with you.”

Oh, Lena thought, taking a step closer to Kara, so she did realize.

Lena’s hand fluttered up to Kara’s face, cupping the blonde’s cheek as she tensed. Kara’s eyes darted curiously between Lena’s.

Lena smiled softly, drawing a slow smile from Kara’s lips, before Lena tilted up on her toes - pressing a kiss to Kara’s cheek.

Kara responded in kind, wrapping her arms around Lena’s waist, bringing her lips to Lena’s cheek in return. “I’ve been in love with you for years,” Lena murmured, as she felt the small puff of breath against her neck before Kara tilted her head back.

“I wondered if this was all in my head,” Kara confessed.

“I wondered if you didn’t realize that this was…”

“Unusual?” Kara laughed.

“Yeah,” Lena grinned. Kara smiled back, and Lena felt her heart swell in the warmth in Kara’s eyes.

“I’d like to kiss you for real now,” Kara said softly.

Lena tilted her head in welcome, as Kara leaned forward.

And finally, their lips met.

[fvsm4x]

You and Gojo are happily dating until Gojo grows closer to your new friend. WC. 2k

a/n: I wrote this out of boredom so it‘s more of a drabble (ᵕ—ᴗ—) not proofread and short!!

You and Gojo decide to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon together, starting with a visit to your favorite coffee shop. The place has a cozy, inviting atmosphere, with soft music playing in the background and the gentle hum of conversation creating a comforting buzz.

As you wait in line to place your order, you notice a familiar face at a nearby table. It’s Hana, the new friend you recently made at a local art class. She’s sitting alone, engrossed in a book, with a half-empty cup of coffee in front of her.

A smile spreads across your face as you wave to her. “Hana! Hey!”

Hana looks up, her eyes lighting up with recognition and delight. “Y/N! Hi!” she replies, closing her book and waving you over.

You glance at Gojo, who’s busy contemplating the menu. “Do you mind if we join my friend for a bit?” you ask him.

He looks up, smiling warmly. “Of course, lead the way.”

You approach Hana’s table, Gojo following close behind. “Hana, this is my boyfriend, satoru. Satoru, this is Hana. We met at that art class I told you about.”

Gojo extends his hand, his usual confident and charming demeanor on full display. “Nice to meet you, Hana.”

Hana shakes his hand, smiling brightly. “Nice to meet you too, satoru. Y/N has told me so much about you.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow, casting a playful glance your way. “All good things, I hope.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Of course. Only the best.”

The three of you sit down together, and the conversation flows effortlessly. Hana and Gojo quickly find common ground, discussing everything from books to travel to the latest movies. You’re happy to see them getting along so well, and the afternoon passes in a blur of laughter and engaging conversation.

At one point, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom. As you walk away, you can’t help but glance back and smile at the sight of Gojo and Hana chatting animatedly. You feel a sense of contentment knowing that your boyfriend and your friend are hitting it off.

When you return, Gojo and Hana are laughing about something you missed, their faces lit up with genuine enjoyment. “What did I miss?” you ask, slipping back into your seat.

Gojo grins at you. “Just telling Hana about that time we got lost on our road trip and ended up at that quirky little diner.”

Hana chuckles, shaking her head. “Sounds like quite an adventure. You two must have so much fun together.”

You nod, feeling a swell of affection for Gojo. “We do. He’s always full of surprises.”

As the afternoon turns into early evening, the three of you eventually decide to leave the coffee shop. Hana has other plans, so you part ways with promises to meet up again soon.

Walking back to your car, you feel Gojo’s arm drape around your shoulders. “Hana’s great,” he says, genuinely impressed. “I can see why you two get along so well.”

You smile up at him. “I’m glad you like her. It’s nice to have friends who get along with my boyfriend.”

He gives you a squeeze, his expression softening. “Anything that makes you happy makes me happy.”

You lean into him, feeling a sense of contentment and security. Little did you know that this simple meeting would set off a chain of events that would eventually test the strength of your relationship. For now, you’re just grateful to have spent another wonderful day with the person you love.

The initial delight of Hana and Gojo's instant friendship has started to wear thin for you. What once seemed like an innocuous bond now feels like an ever-growing chasm between you and Gojo. You find yourself spending more evenings alone, as Gojo increasingly makes plans with Hana.

It’s another Friday night, and you’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly. Gojo had promised you a movie night, but he’s late. Again. You glance at the clock, feeling the familiar knot of disappointment in your stomach.

The door finally opens, and Gojo walks in, looking carefree and cheerful. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” he says, not meeting your eyes as he kicks off his shoes. “Hana wanted to check out this new café, and we lost track of time.”

You force a smile, trying to hide your frustration. “It’s okay. Did you have fun?”

He nods enthusiastically, sitting down next to you. “Yeah, it was great. You should come next time!”

You sigh inwardly, knowing that he’s said this before but never actually made it happen. “Sure,” you reply, trying to keep the conversation light. “What about our movie night?”

Gojo’s face falls slightly, as if he’d forgotten. “Oh, right. We can still watch something now if you want.”

You shake your head, the disappointment evident in your voice. “It’s late, Satoru. I’m actually kind of tired.”

He frowns, sensing the tension but not understanding its depth. “Okay, we’ll do it another night then.”

The weeks continue in a similar fashion. Gojo spends more and more time with Hana, and despite his attempts to include you, it never quite works out. You try to communicate your feelings, but every time you bring it up, he brushes it off, assuring you that you’re overthinking things.

Tonight, you’re determined to have a good time. You dress up, hoping to remind Gojo of what you share. The party is in full swing when you arrive, music blasting and people chatting animatedly. You stick close to Gojo at first, but soon he’s drawn away by Hana.

You watch them from across the room, your heart sinking as they laugh together, seemingly lost in their own world. You try to join the conversation, but they seem to share a connection that makes you feel like an outsider.

Eventually, you decide to give them space, hoping that mingling with other friends will lift your spirits. But as the night goes on, you can’t shake the uneasy feeling. Your eyes constantly drift back to Gojo and Hana.

Near midnight, you decide to find Gojo and suggest heading home. As you make your way through the crowded house, you freeze at the sight of them in the corner. Gojo leans in, his lips meeting Hana’s in a kiss that’s all too intimate.

Your heart shatters. The room seems to close in on you, and the noise fades into a dull roar. You feel a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal as you watch the person you love with someone else.

Gathering your courage, you step forward. “Satoru!” you call out, your voice trembling.

He pulls back abruptly, his eyes widening in shock and guilt as he sees you. “Y/N, it’s not what it looks like,” he starts, but the hurt in your eyes stops him.

Hana looks horrified, realizing the gravity of what just happened. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” she says, but you can’t bear to hear it.

Tears stream down your face as you turn and push through the crowd, desperate to get away. Gojo follows you, calling your name, but you don’t stop until you’re outside, the cool night air hitting your face.

“Y/N, please,” Gojo pleads, catching up to you. “Let me explain.”

You spin around, the pain and anger boiling over. “Explain what, Satoru? That you kissed my friend? That you made me feel like I’m not enough?”

He looks stricken, his usually confident demeanor shattered. “I’ve been an idiot. I got too close to Hana and I let it get out of hand. But I love you, Y/N. You’re the one I want to be with.”

You shake your head, your voice breaking. “How can I believe that after everything? How am I supposed to trust you again?”

Gojo steps closer, his eyes filled with desperation. “I’ll do anything to make this right. I’ll cut ties with Hana if that’s what it takes. Just please, give me a chance to fix this.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “You think that will fix what you’ve done?”

Gojo looks down, his voice trembling. “I... I’m sorry—”

“That won’t fix what you’ve done, Satoru.” You breathe out, your voice shaky with emotion. “You threw away our relationship like it was nothing.”

His heart pounds in his chest, a mixture of fear and regret. He reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away, the pain and anger in your eyes making him flinch. “Please, Y/N, it wasn’t like that. I never meant for any of this to happen. I got caught up, I made a terrible mistake. But I love you. You’re the one I want.”

You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed her. You wouldn’t have neglected me for weeks. Do you have any idea how worthless you’ve made me feel?”

Gojo’s face crumples, genuine fear and regret in his eyes. “I know I messed up, but please, don’t give up on us. I’ll do anything, just tell me how to fix this.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet night. “There’s nothing you can do to fix this, Satoru. The trust is gone. Every time I look at you, all I’ll see is you with her. How am I supposed to move past that?”

He steps back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ll prove to you that I can change. I’ll make it right, I swear.”

“Prove it?” you scoff, the hurt turning into anger. “You should have been proving it all along, not now when it’s too late. You didn’t care about us when you were spending all your time with her. Now you’re scared because you’re losing me.”

Gojo’s eyes widen, tears forming as he realizes the truth in your words. “I am scared. I’m terrified of losing you. Please, just give me a chance.”

You shake your head, the weight of his betrayal pressing down on you. “I can’t, Satoru. I can’t keep waiting for you to realize what you have until it’s gone.”

He falls silent, the reality of your words sinking in. He looks lost, broken, and you feel a pang of sympathy, but it’s overshadowed by the pain he’s caused.

[hyuckiefluff]

𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 | na jaemin

pairing: roommate!na jaemin x fem reader

genre: smut

wc: 1.6k

summary: jaemin notices how innocent you are and he can’t help but take advantage of this.

content warning: loss of virginity, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, missionary, reader is very inexperienced, jaemin is pretty manipulative, usage of pet names (good girl, princess, angel)

a/n : this is not what i was planning to post next but oh well it’s here now! hope u enjoy it! feedback is greatly appreciated as always and happy new year! my new year’s resolution as a writer is to stop trying to write a million stories at once and then not posting any of them lol. also just realized this is my second time writing roommate jaemin hehe idk i’m kinda obsessed with him and this trope

pss: would you guys like me to post drabbles? i’ve been thinking about it but can’t decide, lemme know in the comments or my req/ask box :))

masterlist

Jaemin was so glad that you were clueless.

When he first moved in as your roommate, he immediately noticed you were too trusting… Letting a stranger like him move in with you without asking many questions. But the rent was good and the prospect of living with someone as pretty as yourself kept him from saying anything about it.

As he discovered the extent of your innocence, Jaemin found himself unable to resist taking advantage of it. He wanted to know just how much he could get away with.

So, on a particularly chilly winter night, Jaemin seized the opportunity and knocked on your door while you were cozily tucked into bed.

"Can I sleep here, princess? I think the heating broke down in my room," Jaemin asked, his head peeking through the door.

Even he knew that was a weak excuse. The apartment had centralized heating, so if it worked in your room, it definitely worked in his. But surprisingly, you fell for it.

"Oh, of course, Jaem," you replied with the softest tone, the nickname you’d given him already making him semi-hard.

He joined you in bed, keeping some initial distance. However, as soon as he noticed you in the skimpiest pajama dress, he felt himself growing harder in his sweatpants. You lay facing him, a sleepy smile on your face, your eyes glowing in the night light, completely oblivious to the thoughts racing through his mind and down to his dick.

"Are you okay, Jaem?" you asked softly, noticing him wince and shift a bit.

"Uhm... yeah, just... uncomfortable," he said absentmindedly.

"Are you uncomfortable with me?" you asked, your big eyes staring up at him.

"Oh no no, princess, it's not you. It's just..." he sighed, "Sometimes it hurts down there, and it will keep hurting until I do something about it."

It's amusing how he tried so hard to explain it, treating you like a kid despite you being his age, and ironically, the reason he was like this in the first place.

"Why does it hurt?" you asked, genuine worry in your eyes.

Contemplating whether to use your innocence to his advantage, he decided to take the risk. "Well, you see... whenever I'm with you, it kind of just hurts. It gets so hard, and I can’t handle it," he said, hoping you bought his act.

"Because of me?" you brought your hands to your cheeks, the action pushing your boobs together and making them practically spill out of your pjs "And c-can I make it better somehow? I feel so bad..."

Oh, clueless pretty thing.

"Of course, you can make it better, princess... you're the only one who can," he said, getting closer to your smaller frame. You didn't move away and simply let him grab your hand.

He placed it on top of his erection, "See how swollen it is? It hurts," you pouted, feeling terrible that this was your fault. "Will you help me fix it then?" You nodded at once, and Jaemin smiled. "Good girl."

He took off his shirt, and you were momentarily stunned by how toned his chest and abs were. You'd seen him shirtless before but never from this close.

"Princess, you're drooling," he teased, softly grabbing your chin so you would look at him.

"I'm not," you whined but still attempted to clean the imaginary drool off your face.

"So cute," he laughed, "will you take this off for me?" He pointed to his sweatpants.

"M-me? Uhm... okay," you said, and with shaky hands, you slid his pants down his legs. It was a bit hard pushing them past his bulge, and he noticed how this made you blush.

"Thank you, pretty girl," he pulled you back up, and now you were straddling him, only the thin fabric of your panties and his boxers separating your cores.

He experimentally rutted against you to gauge your reaction, and it was entirely worth it. Your face contorting, the way you gasped and made an "O" with your pretty plump lips. He never saw anything better.

"You trust me, right, princess?" he asked, his eyes heavy on you.

"Y-yes... I trust you."

He smiled and switched your positions, now hovering over your body. He caressed your cheeks, and then his hand went down until he reached the border of your PJ dress. He pulled it up until it was pooling right below your chest.

"So pretty," he said, his lips ghosting over your stomach.

"Jaem, that tickles!" you laughed, pushing his head.

"Princess, before you can help me, I gotta prepare you, okay?" He suddenly got serious again, his eyes with that dark glow you saw earlier. You nodded, your heart picking up pace when he suddenly hovered over your clothed core.

Then, locking eyes with you, he pulled your panties to the side. The abrupt shift from the cool air hitting you to his warm breath so close to your most private part gave you goosebumps all over.

Out of the blue, he licked a streak along your core. You gasped, nudging his head away. No one had ever touched you there, let alone licked you.

"You gotta relax, baby," he said, his voice so growly it almost had a purr to it.

Though he didn’t really give you a chance to relax. He latched his mouth directly to your cunt, sucking viciously, and the sensation was almost overwhelming.

"Oh my g-.. Jaemin," you moaned, the intensity taking you by surprise.

After a few minutes of relentlessly eating you out, he pulled away, his nose, mouth, and chin glossy with your juices. The knot in your stomach was so tight it could explode. But just when you thought he was finished, he inserted a finger. He explored your insides with vigor until he found that sweet spot, causing you to release a string of curses and curl your toes.

That was your first orgasm.

"You're ready for me now, beautiful," he said, planting one last kiss on your inner thigh before crawling until he was directly on top of you.

“… m’ so tired, Jaem..." you mewled.

"I know, I know... just hang on a bit more. You wanna help me, right?" he asked, gently moving some stray hairs away from your forehead.

You nodded, and he rewarded you with a chaste kiss on your lips. With a playful grin, he pulled down his boxers and even though you were spent, curiosity got the best of you so you peeked down. He was so big and thick; it startled you for a moment.

"Now, angel... tell me if you feel uncomfortable."

Jaemin was trying so hard to be gentle, but seeing you like that, all pliant and open for him, made him want nothing more than to fuck you hard into next week.

He pulled down your panties, amused by the way they stuck to you from how wet you were. Tossing them aside, he wasted no time positioning himself at your entrance. The tip was barely in, and you already felt overwhelmed. "I don't think it'll fit..." you said, but he seemed not to have heard, leaning in to kiss all over your neck and collarbone.

This distraction allowed him to go in more, and you held onto his shoulders for support.

"You're doing so good for me," Jaemin whispered against your skin.

When he bottomed out, he already felt like he would cum fast from how tightly you were squeezing him. He kept whispering for you to relax, and only when you did did he start moving at a somewhat slow pace.

"You feel so fucking good," he whimpered, his thrusts picking up pace and turning you into a moaning, writhing mess.

"J-j-Jaem..." you were unable to form a coherent sentence with how hard he was fucking you now.

"Fuck… I… should've… done… this… sooner," he grunted, his eyes locked on the mesmerizing bounce of your boobs.

"I'm… I feel so…" you whimpered, tears forming in your eyes as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He could tell you were getting there from how your walls were pulsating around him. So, he grabbed your legs, hoisting them up on his shoulders for some deeper access. This new angle had him hitting just the right spot, and in no time, you turned into a moaning, sobbing mess. He eased into a slower rhythm, helping you ride out your second orgasm.

"That's it, good girl," he moaned looking at the scene between your bodies as your release dripped down from your pretty cunt.

After you came, he didn't pull out. He was the one wanting to get a little more out of this, after all.

So, once your breathing had calmed down a bit, he resumed thrusting into you, each one driving deeper than the last.

"Jae… I- I can't…" you whined, too sensitive down there.

"You said… you would help me, princess..."

And so he kept fucking you hard. It didn't take long for your third orgasm to creep up, your walls squeezing the life out of him again. Relentless, he kept going even after you'd cummed again, pushing until he felt his own orgasm approach. That’s when he pulled out right away, his release spilling generously over your lower stomach.

He collapsed next to you, both of you panting.

"Does it still hurt, Jaem?" you asked innocently, looking at him.

He smiled softly at you and gently caressed your cheek.

"No, princess. You made me all better."

Jaemin loved how clueless you were.

btw i’m not ignoring requests it’s just taking me forever to finish the other stories i’m writing so requests are on hold for a little bit, you can still send but it’ll take me a minute to get to them :(

[odoraful]

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒

⟡ content: diluc/wanderer/childe x gn!reader; sfw; modern au; established relationship; fluff !! ⟡ a/n: i was scouring pinterest looking the most fitting inspo rooms for each of them hehe

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

DILUC ⟡

Your shared home is an old-fashioned but charming house with a tiled roof and a brick archway leading to the entrance of the door. Diluc has a good eye for style — all the furniture pieces you select together are warm and elegant, perfectly matching with the vintage style home.

He’s a bit of a craftsman, and when you moved in he custom built bookshelves just for you. Your house has traces of Diluc’s handiwork: a wooden tissue box cover, tile coasters, a ceramic chess set.

Being a peak acts of service man, if he notices that there’s something inconveniencing you that can be mended, he’ll try to find a way to fix it. That wooden chair that wobbled yesterday when you sat down on it? The next day, it’s miraculously levelled. Always struggling to find your keys before you leave the house? There are now little hooks on the wall where you can easily hang them. He doesn’t make a huge show of it, but you’ll always kiss him on the cheek and say that you should repay him with something.

“There’s no need. Seeing you happy is more than enough for me.” He replies, running a hand through his hair, the tips of his ears turning red.

The house is IMPECCABLY cleaned — the chores are shared out between the two of you, and the both of you work like a well-oiled machine. He’ll insist that you shouldn’t carry anything too heavy though! He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself :(

One of the things that Diluc wouldn’t ever trade is getting the chance to cuddle with you in the evening on the couch. He’ll let you play with his hair and try out different styles, comforted by the feeling of your fingers running through it.

Sometimes, he’ll come home late from work tired and perhaps a bit grumpy, but the sight of you will change his mood completely.

At the sound of jangling keys and the front door creaking shut, you rush out of the bathroom and down the stairs. 

“(Y/N), I’m home!” You hear Diluc’s voice call out to you.

The day had felt far too long for him, and with far too many headaches for him to deal with. The only thing that he looked forward to at the end of it all was to see you again. 

Hearing the patter of your slippers, he looks up. It takes everything within him to keep composed at your appearance. Having just gotten out of a hot shower, your cheeks were tinted pink, hair still damp and slicked. Diluc’s eyes trailed to your clothes, a matching pair of flannel shirt and shorts. He loosens his tie, suddenly finding his breath stuck in his throat. It baffled him how gorgeous you were even in pyjamas.

Wordlessly, he reaches towards you. You look down at his hands and see as they fasten the remaining top two buttons of your sleeping shirt. In your hurry to greet him at the door, you forgot to dress properly. 

“I can’t believe I missed that...” You sheepishly say, observing his hands as they linger on your shirt. Your senses told you something was off.  “Did you have troubles at work today?”

The worry in your eyes melts his heart. Of course you were the one to peer through him and know exactly how he was feeling. 

“A few clientele at the bar today were-” He sighs, still fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt, recalling the events of the day, “-difficult to manage to say the least.” He lifts his head to meet his gaze. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” 

Your arms instinctually wrap around him and he collapses into them. Tightening your embrace, he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Diluc, I just took a shower.” You say with a light giggle, trying to pull your hair away from his face.

He feels your breath close to his ear and he wishes he could have recorded that laugh for himself to hear it over and over again. 

“I could tell.” He breathes deeply. “Is this a new shampoo?”

“Well yes, but what I meant from that is that my hair is still wet!”

You feel him smile against you. “It doesn’t bother me. Just a few more seconds, please. I need to recharge.” 

WANDERER ⟡

You share an apartment together since you travel to and from the same university. Although you’re studying different degrees and have different schedules, you’ll both make an effort to spend time together at home during the weekdays. 

You and Wanderer leave little notes cheering each other on and stick them to the walls or the fridge before you leave, or sneak them into pencil cases or onto laptop screens. He has a small box on his desk where he collects all your notes, neatly folding them up to preserve them.

Wanderer enjoys having the home quite minimalist. Just the essentials will do, but the two of you do splurge a bit more on your study space —  the comfiest chairs, wide desks, tactile keyboards — anything to liven up having to do assignments all the time.  

When you’re feeling too tired or distracted from your own studies, you’ll walk over to his desk and try to sit on his lap while he works. He’ll attempt to exert some self-control and reject your wishes, but eventually gives in after seeing your pout.

“Just because you’re distracted doesn’t give you any right to bother me.” He grumbles, resting his chin on your head.

He warns you that if you do decide to put plants in the house, you are responsible for them. Little do you know that he’s secretly also invested in their health. On mornings when you’re in a rush and forget to water them, he’ll spritz them with your spray bottle thinking to himself: If you died (Y/N) would be devastated, so don’t even think about it.

His favourite room is the bedroom. It’s a place for both of you to escape the stresses of being a student and relax together.

The alarm clock beeps and you wiggle in bed, reaching over a hand to quickly silence it. Bright sun filters in through the curtains, its light diffusing into the room. 

You force your eyes open and sit up, your body bent over like a crooked branch. Movement beside you pulls your attention as Wanderer shifts in his sleep. You can’t deny how pretty he looks even at rest. His long lashes fanned out under closed eyes, the steady rise and fall of his chest with each deep breath. His expression is that of pure peace. You know that’ll soon disappear when you both need to properly wake up and prepare for classes.

“Hey, it’s time to wake up,” you whisper, carefully coaxing him from slumber. 

Wanderer opens his bleary eyes ever so slightly, then immediately closes them. He mumbles something of refusal. You roll your eyes in resignation. When it comes to sleep, he acts like a child sometimes. You turn to get out of bed. 

Two arms wrap around your waist and yank you back. You stumble into the sheets with a yelp. Wanderer adjusts the blanket over you and pulls you closer to him with one hand. 

“Not yet.” His voice is low and scratchy, his words slurred. “Want more time in bed… with you.” 

You sigh softly, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair to detangle it. “You do this almost every morning. You’re never going to attend your lectures on time.”

He replies by nuzzling into your neck, and you hear nothing but his slow breaths. His peers would have sooner called identity fraud than believe the stony and scholarly Wanderer to be this clingy and affectionate in the morning. However, in the privacy of just you, it’s become easy for him to let down his guard. 

“Don’t try to get out of this by pretending to be asleep.” You say, deadpan.

There’s a stutter in his breathing as you catch his obvious charade. 

“Stop worrying. I’ll just watch the recording.” He finally responds. 

You realise in a fluster just how close your faces are, barely inches apart. As if sensing this, Wanderer opens his eyes once again, this time there’s a glint of mischief in them. 

He taps his forehead lightly against your own. “And besides, why would I want to spend my mornings in a noisy lecture hall when I can be with you in peace and quiet?”

CHILDE ⟡

You’ve been living together for a while now, and your home has transformed into what can only be described as organised chaos.

If Childe kept up with his interior designing eagerness, it would have been complete maximalism, but you were there to contain his excitement and still ensure your home was still practical. 

The two of you love collecting pillows, plushies and blankets, which adds even more to the cosiness! However, one day you tried to sit down on the couch and realised it was more pillows than actual seat space. In a fit of laughter, you and Childe ruled that you would rotate between different cushions every so often so you could get your couch back. 

Childe will still come home with flowers or sweets (sometimes both) as gifts for you on random nights. He’ll stand on the doorstep looking like a lovesick teenage boy asking his crush out on a date. Taking them from his hands, you’ll ask what the occasion is.

“Well, there isn’t a particular occasion.” He kisses you on the forehead. “Celebrating you should be an everyday thing.”

Board game nights are taken very seriously. You have a bookshelf filled with different types of them. Whether it’s a classic game of UNO or Jenga, or something a little more strategic, he's always hyper-competitive. You also have special punishments for if one of you loses, which are harmless but maybe a little embarrassing (One of his favourite punishments for you is ‘For the entire day tomorrow, Childe will only call (Y/N) by the cheesiest pet names’). 

MASSIVE kitchen since he loves to cook. He keeps a book of recipes from his mum and has since added new ones of his own that he has shared with you. 

“Could you come over here, baby?”

You follow your partner’s voice and the scent of something freshly baked into the kitchen.

Childe is standing behind the counter, his face in deep focus. He takes one of an array of heart-shaped biscuits and dips half of it in a bowl of chocolate before placing it on a lined baking sheet. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up, exposing his forearms. His muscular build is sharply juxtaposed by the cream-coloured apron tied around himself, which has a little teddy bear embroidered in its centre. 

You approach the kitchen bench, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are they ready yet? Can I try one?” You eagerly ask. 

“Not quite, I need help dipping the rest of these into chocolate.” He stretches his arms out in front of him, shaking the tension out of them.

“That being said,” he grins, extending a hand towards you across the kitchen bench as an offer, “would you do me the honour of being my baking assistant for a little?” 

Chuckling at his dramatics, you delicately place your hand in his like royalty. “I’d be delighted to help.”  

Childe guides you to his side and helps you put on your apron. As he ties the strings together, he relays the instructions to you. 

“You just need to dip half of the biscuit into chocolate, and then add some sprinkles on top before it sets.” He tightens the bow around your waist to secure it.

How hard could that be? You think, nodding along to his words.

Demoing an example, Childe deftly coats half of the biscuit. Angling it just right, the chocolate drips off and evens itself out, leaving a perfect covered half. After placing it on the tray and adding the finishing touch of sprinkles, he gestures for you to try it yourself.

You confidently take one biscuit and dunk it. 

“Ah!” 

Underestimating its consistency, when you lift the biscuit, the chocolate slowly spreads onto the other half of the heart and drips onto your fingers. You quickly place it onto the baking sheet. Childe stifles his laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“My one looks so much worse compared to yours…” you mutter, licking your fingers to remove the evidence of your unsuccessful attempt. 

Seeing the frown on your face, he gently bumps your shoulder with his own in encouragement. “Don’t say that! I think your one has a lot more charm.” He says, adding the sprinkles onto your heart. “I’ll run some extra baking classes with you to build up your skills, how does that sound?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[fireflyinks]

I have an idea for a request :) 💗 sorry if this is long but what if hamzah did one of the solo out of character podcasts and then he invited y/n but then the sexual/romantic tension between them so they stop filming to do other stuff (can be the deed if you want to take a smut route or just making out or being cuddly for a fluffy route!) or maybe 🫣 they forget about the camera and accidentally capture stuff on camera

special guest

hamzah x reader smut

contains : smut, oral sex (both giving and receiving), no p in v, use of y/n, cursing, sort of exhibition (they record themselves but don’t post it), munch!hamzah

a/n : I LOVE THIS SM, munch!hamzah is my new favorite thing to write, i’m obsessed. anon you’re literally a genius. thank you so much for the support on all of my hamzah posts, i love you alllll

18+ MINORS DNI

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hamzah and I had been friends for a couple of years. Both of us had YouTube channels and lived near one another so we would hang often. There was an obvious connection between us, but Hamzah nor I were bold enough to point it out. The two of us simply enjoyed dancing around the face that we obviously had mutual feelings for one another.

I sat on my couch, editing my latest video when I felt my phone buzz beside me. I picked it up, reading “hamzah” spread across my screen and a .5 picture I’d taken of him. I swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n. Are you busy?”

I shook my head as if he could see me, “No, what’s up?”

“Well, Martin is busy today and can’t record for our podcast, so I was wondering if you’d want to come record with me. Like a ‘special guest’ type thing?”

I thought for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in a while just because the two of us had busy, and viewers loved it when we made content together. We actually got shipped a lot, but Hamzah always ignored it, and I never brought it up. Part of me was glad that even the fans noticed that there was something between us.

“Yeah, why not? That sounds fun, when do you want me to come over?”

Hamzah took a beat before answering. “You could come over now, and afterwards we could order dinner or something, yeah? You’ll have to come to Martin’s apartment because that’s where we film, it’s not too far from mine. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’m on my way, see ya in a second.”

“Thanks, y/n, drive safe.” He hung up.

My heart fluttered at his last comment.

I went to my room and quickly put on something sort of presentable. The star of my outfit was none other then a small denim miniskirt.

The drive to Martin’s house was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I was way more excited about spending time was Hamzah than I should’ve been.

Once I arrived at the apartment, I knocked on the door. I was greeted immediately by Hamzah. I couldn’t help but noticed as he looked me up and down once he’d opened the door, a small grin on his lips.

“Hey!” He said, pulling me into a hug. It surprised me a bit but Hamzah was always very affectionate with me, even as a friend. He’d play with strands of my hair on late nights after filming when we’d sit and talk about pretty much anything, and would always grab my hand when leading me places.

“Hi” I smiled into his shoulder right before he let go.

“I have everything get up in here.” Like clockwork, he took my hand and led me through Martin’s apartment. I looked around, seeing the scenes that had made appearances in many of Hamzah and Martin’s videos.

“So…” He sat down on the couch, motioning for me to sit to his right, “it’s going to real casual, just like it is with Martin. I might ask you a couple questions about your channel, if you want me to.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine with anything, just happy I could help you out.”

Hamzah smiled, handing me Martin’s microphone and looking at the camera. “Well, are you ready?”

I nodded, and he got up and began recording.

“You gotta just sit here for a second awkwardly while the intro music plays.”

A few seconds went by as we tried not to laugh at the silence. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flicked down to my thighs, exposed by my mini skirt, every few seconds.

“Hey guys, today I’m here with someone who is not Martin.”

Hamzah motioned to me. I lifted my hand and gave the camera small wave.

“Hi there, I’m y/n.”

“Martin decided to skip recording today to go roller skating with Mandy.”

I giggled, “Well, I think they sort of trapped you into recording without them so you wouldn’t third wheel them for once.”

Hamzah rolled his eyes. We went on and on, talking about how much better I am at rolling skating than Hamzah is, how ice skating isn’t real and it’s all just an illusion because neither of us can even stand up on the ice, and after about 40 minutes, somehow the topic of none other than Ice Spice.

“Munch is an absolute banger, but I’ve never met a dude that actually enjoyed eating it.”

Hamzah furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I went on, “like most of them do it but they don’t like it, which makes it awkward. Like I’m yet to meet a dude that actually gets pleasure out of it too.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation, and I was scared I had made him uncomfortable.

“You’re talking to one right now.”

My cheeks flushed as his comment sunk it. I couldn’t respond, no words would come out of my mouth.

“Sorry,” he looked at me worried, “I totally just made it awkward.”

“Nah,” I shook my head, desperately. My heart thumped as I looked back at him. Maybe I wasn’t delusional about our obvious connection. Why in the world would he make a comment like that if he didn’t mean it in a flirty manner? “it’s okay, really.”

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Hamzah’s mouth on my heat, suckling on it like it was his last meal, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I bit my lip. The way he was looking at me showed that he was possibly imagining it too.

He shifted on the couch, looking at me desperately.

“I could show you, if you want.”

I nodded dumbly.

“Please.”

Hamzah leaned in, slowly pressing his lips onto mine. He slowly worked his mouth on mine, growing more and more passionate.

His mouth moved down my body, trailing down my neck. He paused, slipping my shirt and skirt off my body and taking a moment to stare at my breasts.

“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I was so distracted, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

He rubbed my thighs, looking down at them. It’s like he was mesmerized. “These thighs are so pretty. I couldn’t stop imagining them spread for me.”

Hamzah’s boldness surprised me, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy his praises. No matter how lewd they were.

“Can I take these off?” He curled his index finger into the band of my panties.

“Yes” I breathed out, shyly.

Hamzah chuckled to himself, “You’re so cute.”

He pulled my panties off of me, spreading my legs and looking down at my aching heat. Leaning down, he slowly kissed my core. I whimpered at the feeling.

“Tell me you want it.”

I bit my lip, looking down at him with pleading eyes. “I want it. I want it so fucking bad, Hamzah.”

Without further discussion, he dove down into my aching heat, swirling his tounge through the folds. I took his hat of his head with shaky hands and ran my fingers through his curls.

He looked up at me for a moment.

“Do you feel good?” He said quickly, wasting no time to get back to his meal.

“Yes! Yes! So good.” I moaned, my legs involuntarily closing in on his head. His hands held them back in place, spread wide for him to have the fullest access.

“You taste so damn good.” He groaned out. It was entertaining, watching how much he genuinely enjoyed this. He moved his mouth like it was his last meal. I’d never felt this much pleasure just from being eaten out, and it was so sweet.

My brain felt all fuzzy from the way his tounge worked through the folds of my heat perfectly, finding all of the sensitive places and causing my legs to shake under his hold.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” I threw my head back, pure pleasure filling my head as I let out breathy moans.

“Go ahead, cum for me. Cum in my mouth, baby.”

I let myself release on his tounge, my body writhing against his working mouth.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, almost like he’d expected me to have had a bad experience.

I didn’t. I had the complete opposite; I couldn’t stop thinking about Hamzah’s tounge.

“Fucking wow.” Is all I could manage to get out.

“Was it good?” He asked.

“More than good. That was… can I please return the favor?”

Hamzah was quick to shake his head, “You really don’t have to. I know most girls don’t like to, and I don’t expect anything in return.”

I genuinely couldn’t let myself live knowing that I didn’t repay Hamzah back after he had me seeing stars.

“No, please, I really want to.”

I couldn’t lie, I’d imagined Hamzah’s cock plenty of times. I’d wondered how big it was, what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth, what he was like in bed, pretty much everything. But now that I might finally get it, I felt more giddy than ever.

Hamzah slowly nodded, “Alright, go ahead.”

I reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them as he helped me pull them off his legs, followed by his boxers. His member slapped his stomach, and it surprised me just how hard he was solely from eating out.

It was… big to say the least.

I slowly bottomed him out in my mouth, gagging slightly. He groaned, keeping his eyes on me. I bobbed my head, feeling him hit the back of my throat over and over again.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that.”

I continued these motions, occasionally pulling him out of my mouth and leaving small kitten licks on the tip. He was fighting the urge to throw his head back into the sofa, continuing to keep his eyes glued to me. He breathed out shaky praises to me.

“You’re so good at this, fuck. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in my mouth… please.” I begged, sucking his faster.

He moaned before filling my mouth with his loud. I swallowed it all before taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him shyly.

“Fuck… that was amazing.”

I giggled as we looked at each other for a few moments. It was crazy, the very things I’d been fantasizing about coming true, all because of a podcast episode.

Fuck. A podcast episode.

My eyes darted over to the recording camera, my cheeks flushing. Hamzah was still looking at me, almost in a hypnotic state.

“Hamzah…” I tried to grab his attention, he hummed in response. “The camera…”

His eyes widened as he looked over, coming to the same realization that I had.

“Fuck- sorry.” He got up, pulling his boxers on and walking over to the camera. “I’m deleting all the footage. You can check afterwards if you want. Recording us really wasn’t my intention.”

He was panicking, his fingers fumbling with the cameras buttons.

“Hamzah… relax. It’s okay. You- nevermind.”

Hamzah looks over to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “I what?”

“You can keep the recording if you want.” It felt so lewd to say, but I meant it. It was sort of hot, knowing he had that footage of us and could watch it anytime.

He smirked, looking down at the camera and nodding. “Alright… I will.”

I blushed, “Now can we get that food that you promised me?”

Hamzah chuckled, grabbing his phone.

It was strange, a couple of seconds ago we were performing such lewd acts for a camera we’d forgot was recording, and now we were arguing about whether we should get chinese or mexican take out.

[moneymartin]

kate hcs? like what u did w nika plsss

・❥・- gf!kate hcs

warnings: harddd smut under the divider at the end and suggestive content :p

afab!r

a/n: i genuinely love doing hcs more than writing full on fics cause my lord i cannot write a whole story without going off track and ruining the entire thing… got carried away like always. also this is longgg overdue as well. i’ve been procrastinating everything and i feel bad for not releasing anything sooner like i promised. thank you for being patient w me lolz

i’m glad that we all agree… kate is theeee golden retriever girlfriend

i mean who wouldn’t say that

blonde masc that gives off happy vibes and literally has a tattoo that says ‘sunshine’

treats you like a real fuckin’ princess like she knows what she’s doing

okay kate lovesssss the kids

her and carson are so adorbs 💔

when someone asks her what her profession is she is not gonna say a pro hooper

shes gonna say that shes carson’s aunt 😭

def takes you over to kennedy’s house when she’s gone and makes you babysit carson w her 🥹

loves when they hold her fingers she thinks its the cutest thing in the world and you photograph the whole thing

spoils you fosho!!!!

mention one lil thing and shes buying it for you

new clothes, bags, shoes, jewelry, accessories. ANYTHING YOU WANNTTT!!!

yk how she likes tswift…

takes you to a concert for your bday if you do too

and wears that stupid cowboy hat 😒

but you guys would be matching soooo

DEFINITELY loves physical touch

hands hands handssss

they’re all over you in public like she is not afraid to show people you’re hers 😩

on your waist or hips. her fingers are always on you somehow

also does it romantically like she’ll intertwine pinkies with you and always holds your hand no matter the situation

the thumb thing is her favorite

loves pda foshooooo

i don’t think she’d be possessive but i feel like shes the jealous type

sees you w a girl at the bar or sumn and starts to FREAK!

she’ll sit next to you immediately and is touching you all over so that the girl goes away 😭

or shes burying her face into your neck and kissing your skin in front of her

WHEW!!!

everyone can disagree w me on this but i see her as lil spoon when you guys cuddle…

FIGHT ME ALL YOU WANT BUT THIS GIRL LOVEEESSSS WHEN YOU PLAY W HER HAIR WHILE SHE SLEEPS

kisses your neck or your collar while shes half asleep 😣

back rubs are her fav thing too

shes the one getting them tho cause she’s always so tense after practice and she believes that if you do it she’ll feel better already

we all know shes a passenger princess.

she probably has a car but refuses to drive it alone when you’re there cause she thinks she’ll crash it or something

lets you wear her clothes

if she was taller (most likely) she’d have you in all her shirts and stuff cause they look bigger on you

you think you shouldn’t wear anything under cause it hides everything anyways and kate agrees

in reality she just loves the easy access…

total baby when she’s drunk

and super clingy :(

arguments don’t happen often but when they do it ends real fast cause she knows how to calm you down 🥹🥹🥹

if anything though the arguments start cause its about something real stupid

teaches you how to play basketball if it isn’t your sport

can’t cook for SHIET!!!! burns eggs easily or somethin like that cause she can’t bring herself to learn

knows how to bake tho 100%

super adventurous

have you guys seen the pic of her zip lining… like she’s fearless when it comes to that stuff

hits the gym and weight room every fuckin day w you so she can build those arms 🤫

spots you when you think its too hard

KATE IS A MUNCH

ik y’all have seen that pussy eater jaw…

kisses are her thing as well

making out w you is the highlight of her night week day whatever!

initiates it all the time cause she knows you love it too

whines during it too me thinks…

when she needs you to shut up during it i firmly believe that she’ll kiss you to muffle the noises 😩

she isn’t straightforward but when she wants to she’ll make it obvious.

GROANER AND GRUNTERRRRR FOR SURE

cusses all the time

hard breather too

she’ll breathe out a bunch of words that you can barely hear cause of your own noises 💀 but you love hearing them cause you know she’s engaged

her strap game is crazy though i can tell…

feel like she’d sometimes just wear it for fun

she’ll wear it just for the looks and not to use it on you 😭😭

she doesn’t wanna have sex w you for her pleasure b/c during it, everything is about YOUUU

your pleasure >>>>> anything else

soft dom 100% but will also switch sometimes if thats what you’re feeling

especially after games like she loves having sex after cause she knows you’ll do everything for her

FUCKIN LOVES WHEN YOU RIDE HER ITS HER FAVORITE THING EVER

always grabbing your hips really tight when you do and theres always marks afterwards on them

and she likes seeing your face when you’re on top

missionary is her thing

eye contact during sex is important

to her at least

LOVES DIRTY TALKING

degrades you but only when you’re being cocky about something while she fucks the shit outta you

i don’t think she’d be aggressive but she’d be a lil rough when she’s upset

hickeys.

leaves marks EVERYWHEREEE

in the most visible spots so that people can see them when you two are in public

only happens during makeout seshes or when you guys are havin your own time tho

she so talks you through it.

always reassuring and asking if you feel good or not

“is this okay?” “does that hurt?” “it’s okay, baby. i’m right here, i promise” “take your time” lil things like that

praises you hella too

call me cringe or whatever

but she’ll call you a good girl if she has to…

when she eats you out she’s SOOO FOCUSED

quiet the wholeeee time but you can feel her getting all breathy against you

kisses your thighs after you cum so you know she’s still there 😞❤️

aftercare queen

she’s already cleaning you up and getting you a new pair of clothes or running a warm bath for the both of you 🥸

[mochiwrites]

Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.

Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.

He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.

He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.

If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?

Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”

Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”

Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?

He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.

As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’

Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.

Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.

“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”

Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”

Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.

“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”

Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”

Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”

Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.

Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”

Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.

Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….

Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”

“Yes, love of my life?”

“Any clue what this is?”

Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.

“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.

“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.

“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.

Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”

He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.

Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.

“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.

“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.

“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”

Grian laughs.

Scar loves the sound.

“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”

“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.

“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”

Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.

“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”

“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.

Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.

(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”

Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time 

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly. 

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!” 

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not. 

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it. 

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room. 

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse. 

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response. 

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?” 

“Okay. Love you.” 

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad. 

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking. 

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice. 

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat. 

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty. 

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours. 

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” 

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since. 

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself. 

Or maybe because he’s hot. 

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.” 

No reply, as usual. 

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no. 

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off? 

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer. 

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak. 

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one. 

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait. 

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject. 

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball. 

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries. 

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be. 

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?” 

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question. 

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.” 

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking. 

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock. 

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better. 

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd. 

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back. 

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears. 

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat. 

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing. 

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.” 

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?” 

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists. 

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.”  Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them. 

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself. 

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces. 

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.” 

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods. 

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion. 

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual. 

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.” 

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke. 

“Why did you…come after me?” 

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.” 

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.” 

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?” 

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!” 

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off. 

“A dragon clawed your face off?” 

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest. 

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.” 

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees. 

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that. 

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.” 

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him. 

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.” 

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.” 

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)

[flowerfan2]

Steve falls hard, is the thing.  At least, he does this time.  He knows it’s crazy, that Eddie has only been out of the hospital for a few weeks, that Steve has only really known him for a few days more than that. But he knows more than most people that life is full of cliffs and dangers and if there’s happiness to be had, he’s ready to take it.

It happens so quickly that he speeds right past any potential sexuality crisis, doesn’t pass go, just realizes one evening while he’s tucking a blanket around Eddie’s feet when he dozes off on the couch that he’s in love.   He knows it’s real, because Eddie’s feet are frankly stinky since it’s still hard for him to get around, and yet Steve’s content to curl up with Eddie’s feet in his lap and make sure they stay toasty warm.

He tells Robin that night, and once she’s finished swatting him with a nearby magazine and then hugging him until his ribs squeak, she asks him what he’s going to do about it.  “Tell him,” Steve answers, and Robin stares at him as if he’s grown two heads (he hasn’t, he checked).  “Just like that?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Know any good reason to wait?” Steve asks, and when Robin shakes her head no, he smiles.

The next day Steve puts on a clean pair of khakis and his favorite striped polo.  He ever so briefly considers wearing something not so preppy, but he doesn’t think Eddie would appreciate anything less than the truth.  The real Steve, polo shirts and all.  Begin as you mean to continue, and all that.

When he arrives at the trailer the next day (yes, that same goddamned trailer, flimsy and broken but in somewhat better shape than it was a few weeks ago), Steve takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, then remembers he’s supposed to use his key so that Eddie doesn’t have to get up off the couch too often.  He juggles the grocery bag in his arms and finds the key, glad to see when he gets the door open that Eddie hasn’t been disturbed.  In fact, it looks like he’s fast asleep.

Steve puts the groceries away and settles at the end of the couch like he always does, pulling Eddie’s feet onto his lap, and paging through a comic book.  A little while later Eddie stirs, blinking his eyes open and smiling at Steve.

They decide to watch a movie, but after a few minutes Eddie complains that his neck hurts from lying in the same position all day.  Steve helps him switch around so that his head is at the other end of the couch, and Eddie continues to gripe, but he’s smiling the whole time.  Steve can tell he likes the attention, likes when Steve slides an arm around his back and gently rearranges his limbs.  Steve likes it too.

Steve fetches some snacks from the kitchen and returns to find Eddie shuffling himself around again, claiming that the new position isn’t working either.  Soon they’re sitting next to each other, legs stretched out on a pillow on the coffee table, the television directly in front of them.  Steve is getting a suspicious feeling about the whole thing, and it only intensifies when Eddie gives a little sigh and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder.  “Thanks,” Eddie says softly.  “This is perfect.”

Steve’s not sure how much time goes by – time is weird when you’re practically holding your breath – but when he tilts his head to look at Eddie, Eddie’s looking right at him.  

“Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m falling for you, you know.”

Eddie bites his lip and smiles, his nose crinkling adorably.  “Yeah, I figured.”  He turns back to the television and snuggles in closer against Steve’s side.  “It’s good, ‘cause, you know.  Me too.”

______

You can read all of my Steddie ficlets in one place on A03 here.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

Azriel x Third-oldest-archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…

warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)

word count: 3,888

-Part 2[*]-

“How was she today?”

You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.

“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.

Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.

Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.

“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.

“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.

It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.

You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.

Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.

What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?

“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.

A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.

But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.

So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.

“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”

“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.

“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?

“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.

“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.

“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.

“What else?”

You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.

“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.

My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.

“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”

“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.

His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.

“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”

“What did you think?”

You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”

“She doesn’t love him.”

“I know she says that, but—”

“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”

“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”

Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”

“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”

“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”

“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”

“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.

“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”

“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”

His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”

“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?

Anti-climactic.

Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.

“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.

His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.

He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.

“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”

There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.

“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.

“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.

It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.

But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”

“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.

He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.

“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”

Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”

Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.

But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.

“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”

“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”

And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?

For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.

“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”

You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.

In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.

But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.

How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.

He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.

But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?

Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.

He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

[michelle-is-writing]

Surprise, Surprise, Greg House

Word Count: 1.1k~

Surprising Greg at work is always fun. Most of the time, he's messing around with the items on his desk until I walk in which ultimately causes him to perk up right away. I'm always happy to see him, and going by the smile that pops up on his face when he first sees me, Greg is happy to see me too. Plus, it always helps that we've been together for several years too.

"House, you have a guest," Wilson states, quickly popping his head into the doorway of Greg's office before popping right back out. Watching him walk back to the elevators, I wave at Wilson before opening Greg's door.

"Surprising," I hear Greg mindlessly mutter before I walk in. Once he sees me, he lightly smiles and changes his words. "Not surprising," He corrects himself, sitting up in his chair. "But pleasant."

"I brought you lunch," I tell him, gesturing to the bag in my hand with a smile. Placing the paper bag on his desk, I sit down in the chair across from him with his desk separating us. "That way you don't have to steal anyone else's."

"You know me so well," Greg chides, placing the magazine in his hands down before opening the bag of food. Taking all of the contents out of the bag reveals two sandwiches and two bags of chips with a bottled drink for each one. "Funny," He notes. "These are the things I would have stolen from Wilson."

Laughing at his sad, yet true comment, I separate everything out and place a Reuben sandwich in front of each of us, Greg already digging into one of the yellow bags of potato chips. "I'm glad I got to come see you today," I confess, the sight of the food making me feel a little sick. "I have some... great news to share."

"Oh, really?" Greg asks, looking up at me. I nod, smiling as he pushes his chair back a little. "Well, then why don't you come over here and tell me all about it?" He suggests with that ever so sly smirk.

Knowing what that means, I gently roll my eyes and stand from my chair before walking over to Greg and sitting on his lap. Instantly, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close, leaning up a little to kiss my lips. This is one of the very few ways Greg shows his love. He always says it's because he gets to hold me closer to him, but I think it's just because I'm sitting on his lap.

"You know," he begins his sentence, nibbling at my neck. "With one simple movement, you instantly have me at your will. How odd is that?" Greg questions me, his voice sultry and low. Smiling at him, I lightly giggle before pushing him away enough so he can look straight at me.

"Greg, I need to tell you something," I state, my voice a bit serious. Even though I'm trying to keep a straight voice without letting my excitement show through, I keep my smile in hopes of him not getting worried. I hope this news finds him well, and it doesn't make him mad or angry... I don't know what I would do if he left me because of it.

Leaning back in his swivel chair to look at me, he continues smiling while running his hand up and down my side. "Go on," he encourages me, his blue eyes staring into mine. "I'm listening, my sweet."

My cheeks slightly blush at the endearment before I look away, sudden nervousness hitting me. "I'm, uh, I'm..." Just as I begin to speak, I choke up before sighing. "I'm pregnant, Greg," I fully answer him, having the guts to look him straight in the eye as I do so.

He takes a moment to listen to me, only to fully realize what I'm saying within seconds. In shock, he stares at me with wide eyes before breaking out into a nervous chuckle. "You're serious, right?" He asks, making my eyebrows furrow. My reaction causes him to become worried as his smile drops. "Please don't be joking," Greg begs, placing his hands on my arms.

His words slightly... befuddle me. Is the cold and emotionless House actually excited about me being pregnant? For him to question me to make sure I'm not joking makes me... I don't know what it makes me actually.

Does Greg want a child? I know we didnt plan this little one, but there's no going back now. I mean, Greg is quite a few years older than me and I would've never thought he'd want a kid this late in life, but Gregory House is Gregory House. If there's one thing that signifies Gregory House, it's that he's weird and unusual, and he never conforms to what is socially acceptable.

"No, I'm not joking, Greg," I tell him, placing his hands on my stomach. "There's a little baby right here," With Greg staring up at me with big eyes and an equally big smile, tears quickly make their way to my eyes. "You're going to be a father," I whisper, leaning forward and placing my forehead against his.

A few moments of silence pass before Greg grins and wraps his arms tighter around me. In a quick turn of events, he stands up with our feet planted on the ground and his arms still around me, a giggle falling from my lips as he does so. Before I know it, Greg is moving my shirt up to place his hands on my barely swollen tummy, resting them there as I hug him to me as well. “Thank you,” He murmurs, smiling before connecting our lips in another kiss. At the same time, he moves his hands to my waist to hold me there, his hold reflecting the passion behind our kiss.

[velnoni]

Jesus, I LOVE how you interpret ford. Can NOT emphasize how much I enjoyed reading ur hcs for demi!ford! (and then I also have a much more personal appreciation as someone who’s prob demi. so, I’m excitedly shaking your shoulders a little.)

So how would things progress romantically for demi!Ford and reader, building off ur last set of hcs??

It's so nice to hear this, honestly 💓 and ofc, I'm glad you can enjoy these hcs on a deeper level! This ask is also gonna be a long one so buckle up.

Ford x Reader Romance Headcanons

Link to previous headcanon mentioned in ask

As mentioned in the last post, the two of you would consider a romantic relationship after Ford finished traveling with his brother. Something like traveling the world for anomalies would definitely take a minimum of a year to be frank. And you genuinely missed the guy. You missed the way he fixed his glasses (why doesn't he get a new pair?), the sassiness that came with him debuking theories, and his deep voice. Work wasn't the same without him.

Seeing postcards of him and Stanley always made you happy. And sometimes you would trace his clean penmanship in the letters he would mail to you. There would be days when you would receive multiple pages consisting of findings, personal life, and so forth. And you'd do your best by updating him about the Mystery Shack, your job & your own life in return. Because it was mail, there would be delays in the messages, but nothing neither of you could handle.

As time passed, the letters continued to pile in your drawer. You couldn't help but wonder if Ford and his brother would make it home safe. How does puncing an octopus in the eye even save the day? Those twins were such rascals, you swear.

Sometimes, you will dry out flowers and spray them with a light fragrance before mailing the letters away. Flower language is a wonderful thing, and on a particular night, you placed a chrysanthemum in the mail for the twins' safety. You were sure Ford would understand immediately.

The next letter you got back had a hydrangea. At some point as the days grew longer, you'd recognize your feelings towards Ford, especially after Mabel learned one summer you were the pen pal Ford spoke so fondly of.

When the brother touched back to land, you didn't find out until a couple of days after, both twins greeting you after work. You were incredibly excited over their return, noticing the differences in their behavior and how happy they both looked. The sea did them well, especially Ford. If your eyes lingered on him for a second longer, he didn't notice, but Stan will.

When Stan retires to bed, he shoots you two a wink, you being perplexed and Ford grumbling from his chest at his brother's implications. With the two of you alone, it reminded you both of when y'all started hanging outside of work. The night consisted of jokes, bantering, stories, and one too many cans of soda.

"May I be frank with you for a moment?" he asked. You turned your head in his direction and nodded, "What is it?" Ford would look away for a moment and then clasp his hands together, playing with his fingers, a tick of his when nervous. "S-Stan had told me recently you seemed interested in me. Ahem, well, allow me to elaborate. Romantically. Typically, I don't listen to Stan's gibberish, but he pointed out some discrepancies in your behavior." You made a small show of it by looking at Ford brown eyes and the way his peppered eyebrow creased in presumed concern. Leave to Stan to catch you red-handed. You reach out for an open bottle of soda and sip on the lukewarm contents. Ford was kind enough to be frank with you, and you appreciated that, a pro from a man of science.

"Yeah well...he's not exactly wrong." You swish the soda around in the can, wishing the sloshing sound could be more distracting than Ford's lips parting in surprise. "I genuinely do like you. You're a good man and company, Stanford. Got a few skeletons in the closet, but who doesn't? You're kind, enthusiastic about your work, and you're doing your hardest to move on. It's so easy to speak to you, and I really enjoyed your letters. It made life more bearable, y'know? And yes, I also see you as cute, but that's beside the point."

You glance at Ford, noticing how the tips of his ear were beet red and gave a tiny smile of reassurance. "Look, I wasn't planning on telling you at all. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, I can—" your cut off mid sentence when the older twin raised his hand to stop you.

"I'm sorry, I—" he coughs a bit and stares at you, clearly ready to speak. You prepare yourself to be let down gently. "I...I also feel this way towards you as well." You could hear the anxiousness in his voice and see how his lips turned down.

He would continue to confess about how you were someone he didn't want to let go of. But that even though he was confident enough that he had romantic interest, he was unsure how to go about it or if he wanted to tap into the potential of such a thing. It's been so long...

You reassure him he doesn't have to do anything and that you're happy he would be so open about it towards you. You can't help but chuckle at the irony of it all— the both of you felt like teenagers. He questions you about relationships, your experience, expectations, and so forth, and you answer to the best of your ability.

In the end, you two decided to give it a go. For Ford, he would like to go slow with the dating process, preferring outings that didn't require much physical contact. This could consist of book dates, picnics, movie marathons, dinner, etc.

For the most part, this worked great, Ford is very calculating even while dating, but you hope he'll be more comfortable eventually. It would be months until Ford kisses your cheek, and if it weren't for the scratchiness of his stubble, you wouldn't have noticed. It happened after watching a movie, and you returned the kiss. Ford will shyly cup his large hand into yours.

Ford at first will overthink everything in the beginning of the relationship, wondering if he's competent enough for you or if he's asking for too much. You reassure him that's not the case but sometimes he'll worry.

He's a superstitious man at heart and would prefer for your relationship to be quiet but not out of embarrassment. Half a year will pass before he would be okay enough to cuddle with you in a bed (clothes on). The most you two would do is give small kisses and tight hugs that led into the best naps.

He's an old man, he's bringing flowers when he picks you up for date night because it's classy and he enjoys the smile on your face when you smell them. Sometimes, he will offer you a ride home as well.

Please don't play Mario Kart with him...

He likes when you give him back massages (sweater on) and will gladly return the gesture.

Arguing with him is a nightmare, though. Man is stubborn as an ox and will not listen until you both properly calmed. And even then, he has his pride to uphold—something that has to run in the Pines family. Try to bribe him with hot chocolate if there needs to be a sit down.

Are sexual encounters on the table? Yes but he'd appreciate a discussion about it and if he even feels comfy enough to do so at the moment. He's trying his best to be more open minded and honest, you're his safe place. He's the type of guy to schedule sexual intimacy and no I'm not joking, he's a stickler for time. You don't know whether to be flabbergasted or amused. Probably both.

All in all, expect a simple and healthy relationship with Ford. He's learning just like you are.

Thank you for the ask! Please like and reblog, I'd greatly appreciate it.

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Petrichor. | joel miller x f!reader, 4.1k

Summary: You underestimate yourself but Joel doesn't like what's his to be degrated. Unless, he's the one doing it. He makes sure you know your place.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, allusion to suicidal thoughts BUT it's a misunderstanding, low self esteem!reader, established relationship, unspecified age gap (make it you own😏), dom!Joel, sub!reader, dd/lg vibes, pet names(darlin', baby, sweetheart, little girl, good girl), degradation kink, praise kink, size kink, daddy kink, oral m!receiving, masturbation f!receiving, dacryphilia, pussy slapping (quite a few), deepthroating, facial, cum eating, aftercare, as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: First of all, thank you for your love on my little drabble Take me, I didn't expect it at all and I'm so glad you liked it, it really means the world! 🙈 Now, for this fella here, I swear to god it was supposed to be a drabble, I even named its draft as such, because I'm so decisive and steady.😂 I don’t know what happened, it started as a pwp but of course I had to go and pepper it with some feelings.🙄 And then @iamasaddie had a smut fic prompt including “Baby, you know, Daddy only hurts you because you look so pretty when you cry.” line and it fitted so damn well, like Joel's cock fits in reader's pussy, so there's that. 🥵🥵

P.S.: I hate summaries, I hate them, I wish someone else would write them for me. Ok, I love you all, let me know what you think!

Song on repeat: The kooks - Sway

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Maybe this is your favorite sound in the world, you think as you hear the rain drops hit the -floor to ceiling- windows of your loft.

Your mind wanders to your childhood memories searching for confirmation. And you think that, yes, this is it. So, it makes perfect sense that your favorite scent is that of the soaked soil after raining. Petrichor. You smile softly to yourself.

He seems to notice that. But then, he always does.

He’s on his side facing you, all 5’11” of his magnificent naked body laying on your bed, his head resting on the pillow. One hand under your neck, as you lay flat on your back, the other reaching for your jawline, turning you to face him instead of the window.

You turn to him, gladly, because this, this is your favorite sight in the world. Him. The soft glow from the lights outside is the only source of illumination and he couldn’t be more beautiful than right now. He makes your heart ache instantly. His calm and safe presence in your life is such a juxtaposition to the shadows of your past, it brings a lump in your throat. You swallow it down.

“Why the smile, baby?” he speaks carefully, like he feels the antithesis of the emotions inside you right now. And there it is, at last. This is the answer you’re looking for. This, this is your favorite sound in the world. His voice.

Your palm lands on the hand petting your cheek. “No reason,” you smile to him, “just feeling content.”

“Are you, though?” he insists after a minute, “feeling content?”

“I-, yeah, of course I do, you know that.”

“Do I?”

“I hope you do. You know what you mean to me, what your presence in my life means to me, right?” your voice is lightly wavering, the lump in your throat lurking still. “And- and I’m so happy with my job and my new place and everyth-”

“Why did you choose this place?”

“You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that. From all the places we’ve seen, why this? I saw in your eyes it did something to you.” And if you ever entertained the idea that maybe some things get past him, you do not anymore. You can’t hide from him. And you find that, oddly, liberating.

“Because it’s everything I'm not; I wanted to challenge myself.”

He’s curious now. After all these bits and pieces over these past few months you’re giving him something more. He knows there’s more. “How so?”

“It’s just-”, you roll your eyes in frustration, trying to compare a space to a person, “so open, so bare, no hiding spaces, you know, open floor and everything, I remember when I first walked in it made me feel uneasy, insecure, intimidated. So I rented it.”, you shrug like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why would you feel all that?”

He raises his head supporting it on his palm as he studies your profile from his side, seeing your struggle, the waterline of your eyes glassing over, the vein on your forehead bulging. There’s so much you want to tell him, confide in him, confess to him, but you don’t know where to begin. How to sum all this shit up.

“I just- I have lived my life without actually living. I just- existed. I compromised, backed down, let myself be led by people who were supposed to be my family and now-” your lips are trembling and you bite your bottom lip to stop it, your throat is closing, you feel this ache, this burning sensation inside of it, like acid through your veins, making you unable to breathe, let alone speak. Your face turns pinkish, the tears threatening to spill now, the sob ready to explode deep from your chest.

“-I just hate myself-” you mouth through an inaudible cry, still deprived of air in your lungs that they feel like they’re gonna collapse.

His legs straddle yours in a moment of panic, his eyes wide, his pupils blown, his body stiff, ready to engage in some kind of fight. He’s leaning above you, his long torso shadows over you, his huge hand cupping the back of your neck and pulls you in a sitting position underneath him. Your hands grab his forearms in confusion. It -he- makes you feel so tiny, which you are compare to him, but even more so, now that his knees are pressing down on the sides of your hips, holding his weight above your lap so he won’t completely crush you, making your body sink deeper into the mattress and suddenly you’re so small, so insignificant, so unnoticed to the rest of the room, of the apartment, of the world. Except from him. His eyes, raging fires, burning yours as they search for meaning, answers, reassurance. His fist is closing and tugging harshly at the hairs on the back of your neck, demanding all of your attention. The tears run freely down your cheeks now on their own volition, years of restrain and pain unleashed in a blink of an eye.

“Tell me I don’t need to fuckin’ worry about you.” he demands in a harsh tone, his expression painted with anger, desperation, agony.

You open your mouth to respond, but you are at loss for words, your thoughts hazy and confused.

“Tell me!” his voice high and urgent, now mirroring his expression, almost breaking.

And you get it now, you really do. The smell of fear, the fear of loss, the loss of existence.

Your eyes widen, your lips trembling again, “No, no!”, you shake your head violently, his grip on your scalp tightening more, in warning. His expression is torn, like the two faces of Janus, his jaw clenched in disbelief, but his eyes pained, begging, pleading for trust.

Your hands fly around his middle, squeezing him, your fingernails nearly tearing his flesh, “I swear Joel, no, that was not what I meant!” you’re desperate now, how could he think that, doesn’t he know what he means to you?

He doesn’t budge, he doesn’t move a muscle, his eyes keep scanning, keep searching. You try to rest your forehead to his stomach now, how massive he is above you and he allows it. His fist unclench from your hair, cupping your neck again tenderly, his mouth kissing the top of your head. Your arms hug him tighter now, pressing your face to his sweaty skin, inhaling his scent, grounding you, your fingers caressing his broad back up and down. “I swear, I swear.” you keep muttering on his skin, your nose deeply pressed against his firm chest now, barely breathing.

He moves both his hands to the sides of your neck, simply holding you and tilting your head up to look at him. He bends forward to touch your lips with his in a soft kiss, just flesh touching flesh. His forehead resting on yours, he sighs deeply, letting all the weight of the world go through his nostrils. “Don’t you ever-”

“I’m sorry Joel, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant, I promise.” you apologize, pressing your chin to his skin, looking up at him. But his eyes are still searching, not letting this one go.

“I’m just pissed it took me so long to wake up. I’m scared I fucked my life up. I’m scared I missed my chance. I’m scared-” you shake your head slowly in disappointment as you try to explain and Joel keeps his eyes on you, waiting. He nods, he’s listening, he’s here. He’s got you. “I’m scared I’m so broken; there’s nothing left of me to be loved.” you hide your face back to his chest again.

He holds you tight, whispering at the crown of your head, “There’s so much left my darlin’, so much left. And I’m here to pick each and every piece of you up and mend it back together.” And you know he is. You just don’t know if you’re worth the trouble.

Suddently your senses are so overloaded, you just need something to ground you. Hard. His natural musk mixed with sweat and sex from earlier that night hits your nostrils, his soft now cock practically under your nose, on your lap. And there is another answer for you. This, this is your favorite scent in the world. His scent.

You inhale deeply, your forehead pressing on his skin, feeling the sparse hair of his chest and the steady beating of his heart. “I need you Joel.”

He tugs your hair gently to raise your head and looks at you. Really looks at you.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”, he moves his hands cupping your cheeks softly.

“I need you to punish me.” you plead with your eyes closed, embarrassment creeping in.

His breath is hitching in his throat, his eyes darken immediately, “Yeah?”

“Yeah..”

“Use your manners then and ask for it, properly.”

“Please sir, I need you to take control, put me in my place.” you feel your skin shiver, your core warming up again.

He just stares at you, making your heart flutter.

You can feel him hardening, his heavy cock brushing against your stomach. You go to palm him, stroke him to his full potential but he grabs your hand and swats it away.

“You're asking for two different things sweetheart and that tells me you're in a delicate headspace. So, I am taking control from you and I am not going to punish you.” he settles.

“But I wa-”

He raises his brows “Are you sure you want to finish that sentence, little girl?” and that effectively shuts you up and turns you on. He doesn’t speak again, he doesn’t say anything else, he just puts his hand on your throat, resting it there for a second, observing you and then he’s guiding you down on your back.

He straddles you higher, on your chest, now hard in all his glory. He’s a sight to behold. Naturally imposing, no pretenses, it’s just who he is. From his gaze to the sound of his voice and from the broadness of his shoulders to the thickness of his thighs, he’s all man.

You must look awestruck because he smirks softly. You open your mouth to -actually you don’t know what you want to ask, he just caught you off guard, but he beats you to it, explaining the situation clearly.

“When you disrespect yourself, you disrespect me and I will not have that. I will not, under any circumstances tolerate that kind of behavior. Do you understand that?”

You just lay there, mouth agape, eyes confused.

He slaps your cheek not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to sting a bit, to snap you out of your trance.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. So..” he brushes his thumb over your lips, pushing it in slowly, pressing down your tongue, “I’m gonna fuck some manners into that mouth, baby.” Oh, shit. “From now on, when you’re chocking on your tears, it’s gonna be because of me ramming my cock down your throat like it deserves.”

Your breath hitches at his vulgarity, your pupils are blown wide and your slick is running down your ass cheeks now. You suck around his thumb, your thighs pressing together in need of some friction.

“You like that, you little whore?”, he removes his thumb allowing you to respond.

You don't know where you find the nerve but, “I thought you said no disrespect.” you blurt out, you can’t help it, you want to rile him up.

“Oh, she speaks now!”, he raises his eyebrows in amusement. Or in a challenge, you’re not totally sure if you want to find out.

He breaths a laugh, shaking his head in a mockingly condencending way, “I don’t think you understand your place here little girl, so let me break it to you.”

His eyes are glazed over, some sort of wickedness mirroring in them. “Only I get to call you names. No one else. No one. Do you know why that is?” He leans in and looks above your head, a sign that he’s expecting an answer.

“Nnn- no.”

“Manners.”, he shakes your head, your jaw grabbed between his fingers.

“No, sir.”

He’s nodding his head slowly. “That’s because only daddy knows what you need.” You know there's more coming, so you stay silent.

“So, when I say you’re a whore, what do you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when I say you’re my good girl, what do you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when I say you’re gonna take whatever the fuck I give you, what do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Damn right.”, his cock twitches in front of you.

“Please, daddy.” You start whining and squirming underneath him, all needy and wet.

Yes, this is right. He is right. This is how you need it. This is how it should be. If your throat’s gonna hurt and burn and swell it’s gonna be from the invasion of Joel’s cock and not from the insecurities caused from your past.

“Please..” you keep whining.

“Manners, ‘mnot gonna ask again.”, he demands sternly. “And quit your whining, it won't get you anywhere good; got it?”

“Please, sir, let me touch you, pretty please.” you try with a steadier voice.

“Now, now, that’s a good girl right there, hm?” that seems to satisfy him. “Ok, baby, go on.”

Your trembling hands roam slowly all over his chest, then his stomach and the swell of his belly, moving all the way down to his thighs and finally up to the v of where they meet with his pelvis, massaging, caressing and squeezing him softly, circling your fingers around the base of his thick cock.

You're threading them through his pubic hair, your thumbs caressing lightly under him, on his scrotum. He inhales sharply, shivers raising the hairs on his forearms. You press his waist down on you more, resting his weight on you, his warm balls touching your sternum, his hands flat on his thighs.

Joel's eyes are trained on your face, studying you, recognizing the same want, the same desire and thirst that he feels, as you worship him. You raise your head trapping his cockhead under your chin, giving hot, open mouthed kisses to his base and his veiny shaft like you would make out with his mouth. You let him slide to the side of your face, his precum painting your cheek as you bring his cock above you, kissing and licking his underside, lightly sucking his protruding vein.

His eyes darken, enough of your teasin’. He fists his cock, stroking it slowly once, twice, his thumb pressing it down to guide it into your salivating mouth. He swipes his tip across your lips, smearing his precum all over them.

“What do you do if you want me to stop?”, he checks with you.

“Joel..” you drag the vowels of his name on your tongue.

“Show. Me.”, he demands, so you move your hand to his thigh and you tap three times.

“Good. Now, open.”

You just want to consume him, suck his soul out of his perfect slit. So, you obey, sticking your tongue out. He taps his wide head on your wet muscle one, two, three times and then he invades you, moving his hips forward.

There’s something so undeniably erotic about the movement of his pelvis, like a statement, I choose to give and you accept to take, a balancing of the dynamic between you; you could watch him thrust into you forever.

You take him in as far as you can manage without chocking. The feel of every vein and ridge filling your mouth, dragging on your tongue, is driving you crazy.

You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head back and forth in rhythm with his thrusts, while your tongue swirls over his delicious pink head, so soft and velvet, your cunt clenches at the memory of it stretching your tight cunt.

You exhale loudly through your nose, and you’re in a frenzy now, you can’t keep a pace or build him slowly up as you’d normally do. You need him now, all of him, as fast and hard as you can, or you’re gonna die, you think. Your eyes roll back and you’re moaning so loud, Joel feels the vibrations from tip to base.

“F-fuck”, he’s taken aback from your fervor, his jaw slack and his brows pinched together from the intensity of your pace.

“Mnot gonnghhhh-”, he groans deeply, every thought of dominance long gone when you’re giving him head like this. Normally, he’d punish you for attempting to take more than he offers, but your neediness is overwhelming. His breathing is faster, louder, in an effort to level himself. His hands fly to your head, like he would hold to your hips if he was fucking you from behind. He’s taking control now for both of your sake.

His fists tighten on your head, keeping you steady and compliant, his little rug-doll, like you’d go anywhere anyway. He’s all the way in now, your nose brushing his pubic hair, his scent driving you wild. He’s fucking himself into your tight throat harder and harder, the noises from your choking on his massive length and the drooling around your mouth might embarrassed you in another life, but not in this one, not now, not with him.

You take everything because he’s everything. Nothing else exists beyond him. He blinks; you see, he moves; you shift, he laughs; you bloom, he breathes; you live.

You don’t even think of your pleasure until he palms your cunt with one hand and your juices cover his fingers. He slows his pace, thrusting into your mouth almost sensually.

“Sucking daddy’s cock made you this wet, sweetheart?”

He starts to rub your swollen clit up and down, knowing how much more intense the sensation is for you this way. You’re already so close, you can feel your lower belly tense with a familiar warmth. You moan around his cock while you begin to grind your hips against his deftly fingers. You should know better.

He slaps your pussy, the wet sound of his palm on your soaked folds making you feral. “Mmmmm” you groan, arching your back unsuccessfully under that mountain of a man above you, rolling your eyes back, your hips never stoping their movement. You're so far gone, it should be embarrassing.

He slaps you again, harder this time and then a third time in quick succession. The impact with your clit sends waves of arousal all over your body, your cunt gushing your slick all over the sheets now.

Your body tenses, your hands squeeze his ass so hard, little moon-shaped indentations mark his skin and your legs are trembling. Tears start running from your eyes to your temples from the intensity of the act.

“You’re a wild little thing, aren't you?”, still slow-fucking your face, his middle and ring finger tapping quickly on your swollen bundle of nerves. “Playing coy and innocent until my cock’s in your mouth, only to come on my palm, hm?” And then he slaps your mound again.

“Mmmmm” you moan desperately, your face contorted in pleasure, tears pooling in your ears, your whole body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You feel him twitching in your mouth while you swallow around him. He’s hard and hot inside you and that makes you drool even more as you suck him off with everything you got. Your neck hurts, your jaw hurts, your lips are stretched to their limit, but you’re not stopping for a second.

You start to whimper and his hand leaves your hair to thumb your tears, bringing it to his mouth. You watch him trapping his digit between his plush lips and sucking on it, tasting your saltiness and everything feels so intimate, sobs start shaking your chest, making it almost impossible to breathe.

You try to push him away to breathe but Joel keeps fucking your mouth. “You know what to do if you want me to stop.”

You keep struggling to breathe but you are not going to tap his thigh.

Joel doesn’t stop, either. “You either tap, or you fuckin’ take it.”, he warns, but you shake your head in denial. “Then I guess you can take it, little girl.”, he concludes while he watches you still struggling and sobbing.

“Baby, you know, Daddy only hurts you because you look so pretty when you cry.” he says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut in an effort to calm yourself, more tears spilling out, nodding at the best of your ability.

“That’s how you gonna come for me”. You didn’t expect that.

You’re not sure you can do it and your body stiffens. It hurts good, what he's doing, leaving you panting and wanting, but you fear it's not enough to make you come. He can read that on you and he feels your hesitation.

He moves his thumb to your cheekbone, caressing it gently. Then he moves it lower, to the corner of your outstretched mouth, feeling himself sliding in and out of you. “Fuck, baby, you take me so good. You’re doin’ so good for me,” he’s panting and you know he’s holding himself back, “your mouth was made for daddy’s cock. Just let go baby, don't fight it, ok? I got you, you’re gonna be ok.”

He starts fucking your mouth roughly now, his heavy balls slapping on your wet chin, the sounds echoing in the room nearly pornographic. His hand resumes rubbing your clit in tight circles now, building you up, then tapping it a few times to bring you close and then slapping it once to bring you back from the edge, before he starts all over again.

Circling. Tapping. Slapping.

Circling. Tapping. Slapping.

Circling. Tapping. Slapping.

The bastard is fucking edging you.

He did exactly what you asked of him. He took control, left no room for thoughts, for decisions, for questioning. You just lay there and you take it.

“Daddy needs you to come, right fuckin’ now darlin’; be my good girl and give me what’s mine.” he commands and you obey, because there is no other way.

Your orgasm is explosive, your cunt spasming violently, your eyes rolling into your head, Joel’s pulling back his cock from your open mouth to let you breathe properly but you’re holding your breath in. “Theeere she is, there she fuckin' is..”he smirks in satisfaction, his fingers keep circling your overstimulated clit to prolong your high while he jerks himself fast above your lips.

You exhale loudly when you remember you need to breathe, the air is coming out of your lungs forcefully, hitting Joel’s tip and he comes instantly, thick ropes of milky cum painting your cheeks, nose and lips, running down to your jaw and neck. There’s so much of it, its warmth on your sweaty skin making your pussy keep clenching.

All because of that gorgeous man above you. Because it’s a part of him and he’s gifting it to you.

Joel brings his hand from between your legs to the side of your head, steadying himself, leaning above you, his head resting low between his shoulders, his breathing erratic and loud. His eyes are closed shut, his face wrecked, his muscles still convulsing from his intense orgasm.

Please, open them, let me look at you and he does open them, making you realize you said it out loud. His gaze is one of adoration and something else you don’t dare acknowledge. The edges of his mouth are curled up in a soft smirk.

His fingers caress your face, gathering his seed from your skin and feeding it to your starved mouth. You suck around his thick fingers, your tongue swiping everything clean. He places a soft kiss on your lips tasting himself on you, before he stands to fetch a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up.

You close your eyes and just lay there, still, utterly content and satisfied, lighter than ever. In peace. You feel the mattress dip under his weight again and him gently cleaning your face and neck, then between your legs, discarding the cloth on the hardwood floor when he’s done and laying on top of you, peppering soft kisses all over your face.

“Good?” he whispers against your lips.

“Yes, thank you daddy”. You bring your hands on the sides of his head, kissing the space between his earlobe and jaw, then his jawline, his bottom lip, the edge of his mouth, the apple of his cheek as he smiles, the tip of his nose.

It’s how you know to say thank you, I care about you, too; I love you.

For now.