#WHY DO YOU HAVE TO LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH

[girl-lostconnection]

Concept of a concept time:

Reader who goes through the whole relationship with Ghoap or the whole 141 believing that they would always come second place, because of course Simon would burn the world down if Soap was taken out of it. Of course, Price would do everything and anything to save Simon. Of course, Simon would turn into monster if it meant keeping his family safe, keeping his TaskForce safe.

Of course, Kyle would go mad with grief if he was to lose Johnny. Of course, Kyle would become a shell of himself if he lost Price.

Of course they would all shatter without each other alive and well. It was obvious. It was a fact.

Reader who sees it and places themselves on the outside of it, because these men were already something before they came along. These men were already tight knit and close to each other.

These men were already family when Reader got dropped into their laps. It’s only natural they don’t really slot fully. There’s just no more space.

Reader who takes every bit and crumb of an affection they are given. Reader who gives away everything. All of them. Every kiss and confession, every hug, every bit of love and care they have. They give it all, because yeah, maybe they will never be a part of these 4. But they can be near and maybe…maybe that’s enough?

Reader, who dies. Not instead of Soap, not instead of anyone. They just don’t come back from the job one day, their foot locker was supposed to be shipped out to the family. But there is no family.

So 141 takes it. Who, if not them, right?

Reader, who dies and haunts the narrative from that point on. Reader who leaves a hole the size of a person and no one can fill it. It’s impossible.

Reader, whose warmth was seeping through them all for so long, the absence of it feels like a whiplash. The absence of it feels in their bones and it’s cold-cold-cold now. Their hearth dies and there is nothing to do about it but keep going.

Soldiers die every day, this one shouldn’t have been special. But they were.

Kyle who takes their personal things before someone else can come and toss them out, sleeping with their T-shirts and hoodies. Part of him dies with Reader. Part of him is getting buried with them. He’s sitting at their funeral until Price leads him away.

Simon who takes their photos and books, hiding them, keeping them safe. He needs to have it, because memory is traitorous and one day he might not be able to put a face to the name and he’s terrified of it to the point of feeling sick.

Soap who takes mementoes — keychains and magnets from all of the deployments, he takes every knick knack they found in the foot locker and Reader’s room, he stores them next to his. There are new keychains on every set of his keys. He’s fumbling with them every time he feels like there’s knot in his throat and he can’t speak.

Price gets the notebooks. Just a few of those were in a footlocker, filled with scribbles and meal plans and random quotes and games Reader played with Kyle during boring briefings. But it feels like them. It smells like them. Reader never wrote a consistent diary, too little time and too much going on, but they notated the places and times and that Soap coughs like a sick Victorian child and that Kyle has the most perfect beauty marks on his thighs and that Price sneezes like dad and that Simon sleeps with lamp on.

It is everything there was of them. Everything there’s left of their love and John isn’t sure he’d be able to part with it. It isn’t fair that it happened like that. It isn’t fair that he feels like destroying his whole office when he reads the “im not sure i fit in. on the bright side I reckon if something was to happen to me, no one would mourn too long. they have each other, I should be happy it is like that. I should be grateful” because it’s not fair-not fair-not fair-not fair.

John doesn’t show these diaries to anyone. John guards them like his most prized possession, reading it over and over because you, silly perfect thing, why haven’t you said anything. Why haven’t they noticed anything.

John doesn’t show it to anyone because he’s not sure if they won’t crumble under the notion. He’s not sure they won’t shatter when the rest find out that Reader died thinking they weren’t part of the family.

John sobs so hard, bile rises to his throat, world swimming in his eyes and it hurts, and he’s so fucking angry and it’s so unfair. Because it’s not true, because of course you were part of them, of course you matter, of course they mourn.

Because you die never finding out how much you were loved. Because there’s nothing he can do.

And it’s not fair.

[prlssprfctn]

I think Jason should be allowed to manipulate his family with the "oh, you are my favourite, actually" line. It sounds very flattering to them (because Jason? Jason-I-Want-Nothing-To-Do-With-This-Family-Todd? Admitting you are his favourite? Oh, the hundred per cent bust of ego!) and more to say, this system of manipulation is eternal.

They can argue with each other as much as they want, but none of them would believe the other — Jason Todd is too tsundere to say something like this aloud, to each of them. So, someone is lying. For sure.

(And they are too self-assured in themselves to doubt that they are his favourite. Also, Jason makes every manipulation, specifically individual. So, it is not like he repeats the same confession and reasons. Very believable. Aka: this family needs someone to be open about their love, so they latch on everything and everyone who is willing to admit that openly)

Dick, slightly frustrated: Why are you asking me this favour? You know, I don't usually do these sort of things, I don't really... I don't know, it is too dangerous, I don't like the whole idea.

Jason, face dropping: Oh... Sorry. I shouldn't ask you, just... Dunno, I thought since you are my only big brother, and... Urgh, I guess I am still too attached to you more than to others. You are right. I'll ask Timbers or—

Dick, with his eyes suspiciously wet: oh-

Dick: NO, no. I'll do it. Don't worry. Big brother got your back, Lil Wing!

Tim, frowning: So, am I getting this right — you want me to hack into some system in someone's high school to fix the diploma of a kid who got a ONE bad grade—

Jason: He needs this scholarship. He is a kid of the streets! He can't do it otherwise, and it is not like the world would collapse if you fix one grade!

Tim: Yeah, I don't care about morals, I am just confused. Why would I want to spend my time on this, I am pretty sure—

Jason, dead ass serious: You know I don't like to communicate with this family. I only ever love talking with you, so sue me for thinking you could do me a favour.

Tim, instantly smirking: Ah, so I am your favourite... Well-well, big brother, I guess I can do this.

Damian: I am *not* going to tell you what our father is planning to do with this specific villain. Who do you think I am? An idiot?

Jason, sighing: Damn, and I really thought we had each other's back since League of Assassins.

Damian, scoffing: Emotional manipulation will not work on me.

Jason, all confused: Why would I manipulate you? From all people? I didn't raise you to fall on shit like this.

Damian: Tt.

Damian: Fine. Since, I guess, I owe you for babysitting me...

Bruce: Jason, I appreciate your... strive to help me, but nothing has ever gone well when you worked on cases like that. Let me handle this, and—

Jason, silently sitting down on the armchair, hands on his head: (sniff)

Bruce, panicked: Jaylad?..

Jason: I get it. I really do. No matter how much I love you, no matter how much I keep choosing you over anyone in this family, you don't love me anymore. I really understand it. I... I came in peace with it. I just wished you would tolerate my work... a little bit. You know?

Bruce: No, no, sweetheart, I— I am your favourite?

Jason, sniffling angrily: Who else it could be, old man?

Bruce: Oh. Oh, Jaylad— (instantly hands him the case)

(The family dinner)

Bruce, mentally humming to himself: Oh, these kids have NO idea that I am Jason's favourite because we are connected like that ^•^

Dick, mentally beaming: Oh, no one here has an idea that I am Jason's favourite because I am his big brother and protector! :>

Tim, mentally laughing evilly: Oh, these flops have no idea that I am Jason's favourite and that he wishes I was his Robin!

Damian, mentally kicking his feet: None of my family members suspect that I am Akhi's favourite because he was practically my nanny through all childhood. Tt.

Jason, munching on food: Lol

[holyblonded]

beggin’ | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader

summary: you beg alexia for a dog but she doesn’t believe your responsible enough

warnings: dog slander, hurt animal

notes: eagles won and i have been on a high 😭 but classes are canceled this week cause of the snow so enjoy

“So you hate me? Because that’s all I’m hearing,” you argued, trailing after Alexia as the two of you walked into the weight room.

The gym was already buzzing with activity—Aitana and Patri doing resistance band workouts, Mapi and Ingrid spotting each other on the bench press, and Vicky and Ona lazily stretching while gossiping about God knows what. You, however, were too focused on your current battle.

Alexia exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was already exhausted. “Estrelleta, no vuelvas a decir eso. Te quiero con todo mi corazón, pero no. (don’t say that again. i love you with all my heart, but no)”

The finality in her voice crushed your hopes… Again.

With a defeated sigh, you dramatically slid yourself down the nearest wall like your world had just ended. Ona and Vicky immediately burst into laughter at your theatrics.

“Oh no, she’s gonna start monologuing,” Vicky teased.

“Tragic,” Ona added, shaking her head.

Before you could hit full sulking mode, a tattooed hand appeared in front of your face. Lucy.

“Come on, drama queen,” she said, effortlessly yanking you off the floor and throwing an arm around your shoulders. ���Still trying to convince La Reina?”

“She’s immune to my suffering,” you mumbled, allowing yourself to be guided toward the treadmill.

“What is it now?” Lucy asked, already looking amused.

“The puppy,” Ona answered for you, smirking. “She’s been denied again.”

Lucy clicked her tongue. “Rough.”

“Right?” You sighed as you climbed onto the treadmill, setting it to the slowest possible speed. “She doesn’t understand how much this means to me.”

“I understand perfectly,” Alexia called out from across the room without even looking at you. “I also understand that I do not need a dog destroying my apartment.”

“But I’d train it so well!” You protested, turning dramatically in her direction, which nearly sent you stumbling off the treadmill. Lucy had to grab your arm to keep you upright.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucy chuckled. “You can barely train yourself.”

Vicky and Ona snickered from their mats.

“Et tu, Brute?” You gasped at Lucy’s betrayal.

“I’m just saying, if Alexia says no, you’re not winning that battle,” Lucy shrugged. “She’s got the stubborn gene.”

“No one’s ever won an argument against her,” Ona added.

“Except Irene,” Vicky pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s because Irene fights dirty,” Lucy laughed.

You crossed your arms, still pouting. “I refuse to give up. She can’t resist me forever.”

Alexia, now stretching with Aitana, turned to glance at you. “Try me.”

The weight room erupted with laughter, and even you couldn’t help but grin. You weren’t giving up, though. One way or another, you were getting that puppy.

The apartment was dimly lit, candles flickering on the coffee table, giving the illusion of an intimate, important gathering. Alexia and Olga sat on the couch, arms crossed, faces unreadable, as you stood in front of them, remote in hand, ready to present your magnum opus.

A massive title slide was projected onto the TV screen:

“WHY I, ESTRELLITA, DESERVE A DOG (AND WHY YOU SHOULD LET ME HAVE ONE)”

You cleared your throat dramatically. “Ladies and, well, just ladies—thank you for coming tonight. I know you’re busy, Alexia with captaining, Olga with being very sexy, but this is a matter of utmost importance.”

Olga smirked, clearly enjoying herself. Alexia, on the other hand, was already rubbing her temples. Not a great start, but you pressed on.

“Slide one, please.”

You clicked the remote, and the next slide popped up. “REASONS I NEED A DOG” was written in bold letters, accompanied by an image of the saddest, most heartbroken puppy you could find on Google.

“Point one,” you began, pacing like a lawyer in a high-stakes courtroom drama. “Companionship. As a hardworking footballer and occasional agent of chaos, I deal with immense stress. A dog will provide me with emotional support, cuddles, and, most importantly, unconditional love.”

“You literally live with us,” Alexia interrupted.

“Exactly,” you shot back. “And yet, somehow, I still feel alone.”

“Wow,” Olga muttered, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

“Moving on,” you said quickly, clicking to the next slide.

This one had a picture of you edited into a stock image of someone running with a golden retriever. “EXERCISE AND FITNESS!”

“A dog will encourage me to stay active outside of training! Long walks, jogs, and playful activities will not only keep me fit but also keep me in peak condition for Barça. You both want me in peak condition, don’t you?”

“Or,” Alexia said, unimpressed, “you could just… go on a run.”

“Who am I, Eliud Kipchoge? No. I need a motivator.”

Alexia sighed. Olga, to your delight, nodded thoughtfully. “She makes a good point, Ale. Running with a dog is more fun.”

You gasped dramatically. “Thank you, my ally!”

“Don’t call her that,” Alexia warned.

Next slide.

“RESPONSIBILITY & MATURITY”

“With a dog, I will develop a deeper sense of responsibility,” you declared proudly. “I will wake up early to feed it, I will train it, I will clean up after it—“

Alexia held up a hand. “You literally leave your socks in the living room for days.”

“That’s different,” you argued. “A dog is a living being. My socks are… just socks.”

“You also ‘forget’ to take to take the trash out,” Alexia finished for you, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, but in my defense, the trash doesn’t wag its tail and look at me with big, adorable eyes when it wants to go outside,” you shot back, clicking to the next slide before she could counter.

This one was titled “LOOK AT THESE DOGS AND TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT ONE” and featured an entire collage of the cutest, most heart-melting puppy pictures you could find.

Olga audibly gasped. Alexia, despite her best efforts, blinked a few too many times at a particularly fluffy golden retriever puppy in the center.

“You like that one, don’t you?” you asked smugly, pointing at the screen.

“No,” Alexia said quickly, looking away.

“She totally does,” Olga whispered, nudging her.

“Fine,” Alexia huffed. “Yes, it’s cute. But cuteness is not a reason to adopt an animal!”

“That is literally the best reason to adopt an animal!” you argued.

Alexia groaned and slumped back into the couch. Olga, however, was still staring at the pictures, and you knew you had her right where you wanted her.

Click. Next slide.

“POSSIBLE NAMES FOR OUR FUTURE DOG”

“What do you mean ‘our’ future dog?” Alexia interrupted, sitting up again.

“Slip of the tongue, slip of the tongue!” you said quickly. “Now, first name option: Messi.”

“Absolutely not,” Alexia deadpanned.

“Fine, fine. Option two: Little Estrella, or Estrellita Junior.”

“Pass,” Olga snorted.

“Okay, okay,” you sighed dramatically. “Final suggestion: Captain Paws or Captain Culer.”

Olga nodded her voice breaking the silence. “That’s actually not bad.”

“Thank you!” you beamed.

Alexia groaned, rubbing her face. “This is ridiculous.”

Click.

The final slide appeared, in all its dramatic glory: “WHY YOU SHOULD SAY YES – AN EMOTIONAL APPEAL” with a giant photo of you, making your best sad, pleading puppy eyes.

You turned to them, arms spread. “In conclusion, I am but a simple footballer, yearning for the love of a small, fluffy creature. I ask for nothing—except this one thing, this one chance at happiness. Will you grant it?”

Silence stretched in the room. You held your breath.

Olga exhaled, turning to Alexia. “You know, I think she’s really thought this through—”

“Don’t encourage her,” Alexia muttered.

“Alexia,” you said, your voice trembling dramatically, “are you really going to stand in the way of my happiness? My growth? My dreams?”

Alexia pinched the bridge of her nose, then finally groaned in defeat. “If—IF—we get a dog, it’s on you. You feed it. You walk it. You clean up after it. And the first time you forget, it’s my dog. Understood?”

Your eyes widened. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I’m considering it,” Alexia sighed.

You let out an ear-splitting cheer, immediately lunging at her and wrapping her in a suffocating hug.

“Best decision of your life, Cap!”

“I already regret it,” Alexia muttered, but you could see the tiniest, smallest smile on her lips.

Olga clapped, laughing. “Well, I guess we’re getting a dog.”

You turned, grinning mischievously. “Now, about getting two—”

“Don’t push it,” Alexia warned.

The moment the final whistle blew, you sprinted over to Alexia like a woman on a mission. Your captain barely had time to process what was happening before you clung to her arm like a koala, bouncing up and down excitedly.

“Did you see? Did you see?” you exclaimed, practically vibrating with energy.

“I saw that we won and you scored a goal,” Alexia responded dryly, trying (and failing) to shake you off.

“Not that! That!” You pointed wildly into the stands, where a fan was proudly holding up a neon pink sign that read in massive, glittery letters: “LET ESTRELLA GET A DOG!”

Alexia stared at it, then slowly turned to look at you.

“You didn’t,” she said.

“Oh, but I did,” you grinned. “Posted it on my story this morning. The people have spoken, Ale. The movement has begun.”

“Estrelleta.” Alexia pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling like she was gathering the last ounce of patience left in her body.

Aitana jogged over, took one look at the sign, and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re actually rallying the fans?”

“Absolutely,” you said proudly. “Strength in numbers.”

Alexia rubbed her temples like she was fighting off a migraine. “You are unbelievable.”

“But lovable,” you shot back.

“That is debatable,” she muttered, but you could see the tiniest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.

As you all made your way off the pitch, you continued your relentless campaign.

“You know, Ale, dogs are great stress relievers,” you pointed out. “And I know how much stress you have. Wouldn’t it be nice to come home to a happy little fluffball that loves you unconditionally?”

“I already have you for that,” she deadpanned.

“Okay, rude,” you huffed. “But imagine—just imagine—a tiny puppy running towards you after a long day. Tail wagging. Ears flopping. Looking up at you with those big, round eyes—”

“You are not winning me over with emotional manipulation,” Alexia interrupted, stepping into the tunnel.

“Okay, but what if I told you I already have a list of shelters we can visit?”

“Of course you do,” she sighed.

Back in the locker room, you continued your noble mission. Even while changing out of your kit, you pestered her.

“Alexia, picture this: me, walking a dog in our neighborhood. Think of the aesthetic.”

“Alexia, a dog would be great company when you’re watching game footage.”

“Alexia, if we get a golden retriever, we could name it Oro! Like gold! Get it?”

“Alexia, please—”

“Y/n,” Alexia finally cut you off, slamming her locker shut. “I love you. But if you mention a dog one more time today, I will personally call Nike and have them cancel your entire cleat line.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You gasped dramatically, clutching your chest like she had just stabbed you. “I thought you cared about my happiness!”

“I do. Which is why I am going to shower in peace now, without hearing the word ‘dog’ for the next ten minutes,” she said, pointing at you warningly before walking off.

You pouted, watching her go.

Ona and Vicky, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, exchanged amused glances.

“You’re really not giving up on this, huh?” Vicky asked.

“Absolutely not,” you said with determination. “She’ll cave. She always does.”

Ona grinned. “I give it a week.”

“Ale will last at least two,” Vicky countered.

You smirked. “She’ll break in five days. Maximum.”

And with that, you pulled out your phone and posted another story: “THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES. #LetEstrellaGetADog”—complete with a picture of the fan sign from the stands.

Because if Alexia thought this battle was over, she had another thing coming.

The storm outside was relentless, rain lashing against the windows as thunder rumbled through the streets of Barcelona. The second you slipped through the front door, you knew you were in trouble.

You weren’t exactly subtle about it.

For one, you were soaked—dripping water all over the floor like some stray cat who’d just climbed out of a sewer. Your shoes squelched with every step as you walked to the stairs, and to make matters worse, you were gripping the straps of your suspiciously bulky backpack like your life depended on it.

“Estrelleta.”

You froze mid-step, eyes darting toward the living room.

Alexia stood there, arms crossed, her expression radiating ‘I am fed up with everything what have you done.’ Behind her, Olga was peeking over the couch, squinting like she was a detective in a crime drama.

“Uh… hey,” you tried, flashing a completely innocent smile.

Alexia’s eyes narrowed immediately. “What’s in the bag?”

“Nothing!” You answered too quickly.

Olga sat up straighter. “Then why do you look like you just robbed a bank?”

“I—what? That’s crazy!” You let out a nervous laugh, gripping the straps even tighter. “Can’t a person come home after a refreshing walk in the rain without being accused of high-level felonies?”

“In a thunderstorm?” Alexia deadpanned.

“…Hydration is important?”

Alexia didn’t even blink.

You took a careful step backward toward the stairs. “Anyway! I am so tired. I’m just gonna go upstairs—”

“Give me the bag.”

“Ale, let’s be rational about this—”

Alexia was already walking toward you, and before you could flee for your life, she snatched the zipper and yanked it open.

Immediately, a tiny, miserable whimper came from inside. Olga gasped as Alexia’s soul left her body.

Very, very slowly, you reached into the bag and pulled out a tiny, soaked, shivering puppy.

The little Presa Canario pup blinked up at them with big, glossy eyes, looking like the saddest little gremlin on the planet. One of his tiny paws was wrapped in a bandage, and his whole body trembled as he let out a soft, tragic little huff.

Olga? Immediate meltdown.

“Oh my god!” she squealed, grabbing his tiny face. “HE’S A BABY!”

Alexia on the other hand… immediate crisis.

“Estrelleta.”

“Before you say anything.” you blurted, clutching the puppy to your chest like a newborn child, “he was alone in the rain, Ale! He was limping, and he looked so scared, and I couldn’t just leave him!”

Olga was already cooing at the puppy, rubbing his ears. “Look at his little nose!”

“Look at his little future as a massive security risk,” Alexia countered, rubbing her temples. “Do you realize how big Presa Canarios get?”

“Big enough to protect our home!” you argued immediately. “It’s like free security! We won’t need an alarm system anymore!”

“You don’t even lock the front door half the time.”

“Because I’m trusting!”

“Because you’re an easy target for burglars.”

The puppy, sensing tension, let out a tiny, heartbreaking sneeze and rested his head on your arm like some kind of Oscar-winning performance in sadness.

Olga audibly gasped. “Ale, LOOK AT HIM. He’s one of us now!”

Alexia sighed like a parent catching their kid trying to sneak dessert before dinner. The puppy lifted his injured little paw like he was saying ‘help me, ma’am.’

Alexia groaned, rubbing her face. “I hate both of you.”

“So that’s a yes?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s a ‘we’re going to the vet first thing in the morning’,” Alexia muttered. “Then we’re going to the pet store, because we don’t have a single thing for a dog in this house.”

You and Olga erupted into cheers, bouncing the puppy happily between you.

“Thank you, Ale!” you beamed. “You won’t regret this!”

“I already do,” Alexia muttered, but her lips were twitching upward anyway.

[dollfacefantasy]

BIRTHDAY GIRL ♡

pairing: clark kent x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend forgot your birthday :( how ever will he make it up to you...

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: happy birthday to @fearcvlt!!! one of my sweet friends who i love so so much. i hope you're having a great day bb <3 alsooo just fyi to everyone, there will be no part 2 to this.

From the moment Clark woke up today he’d been busy, busy, busy. 

Given that it was a Saturday, he hadn’t expected the influx of tasks thrown at him. However he’d never been one to complain, so instead of moaning and groaning, he handled each thing as it came. 

In the morning, he had to go into town to pick up a few things for his mom. On the way back, he had to stop by the Talon to discuss some details of a recent wall-of-weird incident with Lana. At some point later on, Lex was then calling him up and asking for his assistance on something.

He felt like he spent more time behind the wheel of his truck that day than on his own two feet with how much he was having to go back and forth across the familiar streets.

Really, every moment of Clark’s schedule over the past week had gone something like this. Packed full from dawn till dusk. He had tests to study for and essays to write. His regular responsibilities on the farm never let up as did his small circle of friends asking to do something or the other. And recently, there’d been a strange string of accidents that he felt compelled to investigate.

Last night specifically, he’d been occupied with Chloe and Pete. What was supposed to be a couple hours of research stretched into a few laps through the woods looking for a variant type of meteor rock and then a car ride to Granville and back. Once he finally got home, he passed out for a couple hours and then scraped himself out of bed to get through all of today.

Now in the evening, he finally had a moment of quiet. He sat by himself on the Torch’s computer, fingers tapping away at the keyboard as he looked into connections between all the components they’d found over the last several days. His eyes flicked across the tiny words glowing on the computer screen. Most of the time Chloe handled the research aspect of their investigations, but he felt so close to having this resolved. With a few more details, he could have this thing cracked in an hour.

The sound of footsteps approaching the door pulled his attention away from the article in front of him. He knew from the quick rhythm of them, they belonged to Chloe. His eyes flitted to the entryway as she appeared. She greeted him without any words, her usual smile and slight wave serving as enough for the two of them as she came in and set her stuff down at her desk.

“You must be really invested in this whole thing if it has you working late all alone,” she teased while shrugging off her coat.

“Something like that,” he responded as his gaze drifted back to the screen, “I’m glad you showed up. I think I really have something on this guy.”

“Oh that’s good,” she said, looking much more interested at the prospect of new information. Coming up behind him at the desk, she skimmed the article over his shoulder. “You know, I thought you’d be with your girlfriend tonight, Clark,” she added as she reached for the mouse to scroll down.

His brows furrowed at the mention of you. While he could talk about you for hours and hours, he didn’t understand the point in her bringing you up now. It felt like a joke going over his head. She’d said it with the normal dose of teasing she used towards him, but the statement as a whole sounded earnest.

“Why would you think that?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I just thought you guys might do something for her birthday. I know she’s not having a party, but I guess I assumed she’d still want to hang out with you,” she answered. The way she said it was so casual. It wasn’t meant to mock or come off as a gotcha. That was what it felt like though because in that moment Clark realized something.

He forgot his girlfriend’s birthday.

Actually, that wasn’t exactly true. He hadn’t completely spaced the event. Last weekend, he’d planned this all out in his head. He called in a reservation at your favorite restaurant, stashed away a few small things to give you, even made a note of where he was gonna buy you a cupcake from. It was just that over the past week, he’d gotten so busy and distracted that those plans faded to the back of his mind. Today, he hadn’t even looked at the date, hadn’t even put together that today was your special day.

But none of the excuses mattered. No matter how he put it, when it actually counted, he forgot your fucking birthday. And maybe he could have played it off like everything was a surprise, that he’d only been pretending to be so oblivious and inconsiderate, if not for the fact that his truck should have been in front of your house an hour ago because he told you he’d pick you up for dinner.

He shot up out of his chair so fast that it fell backwards and smacked against the floor. His hands ran through his hair as he frantically tried to think of what to do. Such a strong wave of panic washed over him that he almost burst into super-sprint right in front of Chloe.

“Clark, you didn’t,” she said, looking back at him. He didn’t even have to say the words for her to surmise the reason for his reaction, “That’s bad, even for you.”

“I know,” he agreed, blue eyes still wide and full of worry, “How could I forget? God, I thought about this. I had all of it figured out. This was the one thing I wasn’t gonna miss.”

“Well the day isn't over yet…” Chloe offered with a slanted look.

He rubbed at his brow for a second before nodding. Of course he was gonna try to make it up to you. His mind just didn’t work as fast as his body. He still had to figure out how on Earth he was going to explain this, let alone justify his absence to you. But he could do that on the way to your house. He really didn’t have any more time to waste.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll have to go try to make the most of how ever many hours are left,” he mumbled.

She nodded in support. “I’ll take over here. You go save the day,” she said.

As soon as Clark was out of her line of sight, he bolted. He zipped into a blur, ditching his truck in the parking lot in favor of his own speed. Later he could come back to drive it home. He didn’t have seconds to spare at red lights or finding parking as he collected the things he needed.

It took him around five minutes to pull everything together. He grabbed the pale blue gift bag from his house, picked up a cupcake from the store (the last one they had), and snatched a bouquet of flowers on his way out.

Every step of the way to you, words of apology ran through his mind, ranging from I’m so so sorry, I’m such an idiot to I swear the truck just broke down, I couldn’t get service, but I’m here now. He tried to think of something that would make this salvageable, but truly, this was his worst screw up with you so far. He’d been late to dates before. He’d forgotten important things. But standing you up on your birthday? That might be the fatal blow to your relationship.

He slid to a stop in front of your porch steps. All the windows in your house were dark. He knew your house would be empty with your parents out of town, but he couldn’t even see the glow of your small tv shining up in your room. Dread bubbled inside him as he realized you could have still gone out without him. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t deserve it, but the possibility didn’t sting any less.

Steeling himself for the possibility of no response, he walked up the wooden steps and across the floor panels to your front door. He took a moment to run his fingers through his windblown hair. With one more deep breath, he shifted the flowers to the crux of his arm and knocked on the door. The gift bag hung off of his other wrist while that hand held the small box with your cake in it.

Five seconds passed and then another several moments of silence too. He resisted the urge to knock again. You could just be taking your time.

But after another bout of quiet went by, he tapped his knuckles against the door again three times. If you didn’t answer this time after another minute, he’d have to regroup, he told himself.

That minute went by the same as the last though, and he still didn’t want to leave. He considered saying something or calling for you through the door; though, at this point in time, he wasn’t sure if his voice would be a strong selling point.

He waited another handful of seconds before raising his fist. Third time’s a charm, right? But before his fingers could make contact, he heard the lock unlatch and the knob twist in that clunky way it always did. Relief fizzled all through his body before he even saw your face.

The door cracked open. From what he could see, the interior of your house was as dark as the windows led him to believe. The nearest streetlight doused the small sliver of space in a faint glow. He could see your leg covered in fuzzy pajama pants and the side of your upper half adorned in an old oversized t-shirt. Your face appeared seconds later. At first, your expression looked neutral. Well you looked sad, but you didn’t look angry, which was what he had been afraid of.

Then your eyes lifted to look at his face, and once they registered the sight of the person before you, that fire lit up in an instant.

Immediately, you tried shutting the door, but he was quick. He stuck his foot forward, jamming his boot in the entryway to stop it from closing. The pressure didn’t really hurt, but he still winced for show.

“Baby, wait,” he pleaded, “I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be. I deserve it-”

“Save it, Clark,” you gritted through your clenched jaw.

You threw your entire body weight against the door in an attempt to shut him out. He could hear your feet scraping against the floor along with your soft grunts as you tried forcing it closed. It would probably be cute if he didn’t feel so guilty.

“Just hear me out,” he tried again, “I’m sorry for being late. I’m really sorry. There’s no excuse that would make it ok, so I won’t even try to give you one. But please, sweetheart. I brought you some stuff, and it’s still your birthday-”

“You’re more than late! Late is fifteen minutes! Late is when thirty minutes pass so you call and explain you’re stuck in traffic! Late doesn’t mean an hour goes by and you finally show up because you realize you don’t have anything better to do, so you might as well!” you cut him off.

You couldn’t have said anything worse to Clark in that moment. He never wanted you thinking this was intentional, that he chose to be anywhere else that wasn’t with you. Now he pushed back a little. He leaned into the door, using his strength to scooch you further into the house and allow himself room to slip inside. As he did, he let some grunts slip out and even took a few seconds to give the illusion that you had a fighting chance.

“I swear this wasn’t on purpose. I’d never choose to make you wait or make you think that I don’t care or something,” he continued. A hint of desperation laced his words now. “I didn’t even forget. I’ve been planning this, and I had it all laid out in my head. I just… I just lost track of time. And it’s my fault, but I can make it up to you if you let me.”

You had turned away from him once he actually made his way into the house. Your body stood stiff as a board. He couldn’t even see your face to get some kind of read on how his words were coming across. And even worse, you weren’t saying anything back. He hesitated, mentally debating whether he should proceed with his pleas or give you a second. But ultimately, the former won. Logic and Clark didn’t mix well when it came to getting in your good graces again. He would do anything to make that happen.

“Honey, I know I missed the first part of the night, but I’m here now. And you’re here, and you look beautiful like you always do. And it’s still your birthday and I have some stuff for you,” he added.

“It’s not about the stuff, Clark. It’s not about what day it is or whatever,”you responded. You turned around to face him again. In the darkness, he couldn’t really make out your features, but your voice cracked. He didn’t need any light to know how your eyes were watering right now. How your lip was wobbling in that timid pout. 

He hated that he was so familiar with your disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, though this time they came out much weaker, like the sound of a dying soldier.

You took in a shuddery breath, either in preparation to yell at him or to maintain what you had left of composure. Neither happened right away. That almost felt worse, leaving him to burn under the heat of anticipation.

“I just… I don’t understand you. You can be so sweet. So caring. You make me feel like you really love me, but then you do stuff like this,” you finally said. Your voice cracked again, but this time it nearly stopped your words from coming out. You were losing a battle of your own against your tears.

“I do really love you,” he replied without a second thought. He dropped the flowers onto the nearby end table, shoving the gift bag and small box on after it. His arms opened for you as he took a step forward. He only hoped you wouldn’t push him away.

But you didn’t. You took the same step with your own feet and let him embrace you. The warmth of his body engulfed you all at once as his big arms looped around your frame. One of his hands found your head, cradling it against his chest.

“I do love you, baby. Always. I never want you to think I don’t,” he said softly.

You sniffled and squished your face against his chest. He held you tighter against himself. It didn’t feel tight enough. It never did for Clark. He always wanted you closer, held more securely, but he had to hold back if he didn’t want to shatter your bones.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry,” he cooed, planting a few kisses on the top of your head, “Don’t cry, babe. Please. I’m not worth it, alright? I don’t want you so sad over my stupid mistakes.”

While you weren’t saying anything, the weight of your emotions filled the air all around you. They were practically tangible to Clark - the disappointment and betrayal. The insecurity he caused. The pain he inflicted. He was almost glad you usually stayed silent while crying because he didn’t think his Kryptonian DNA would save him from being crushed by your words. At the same time, you didn’t have to speak them for him to understand the potential sentiment. He could tell from the muted nature of your sadness right now. You had gotten your hopes up. You believed that because tonight was special, it would be different. He would show up, and it wouldn’t be like countless other dates and occasions.

He stood there with you in the hall, rubbing your back and rocking back and forth with you a little. After a few minutes, he nudged your head back with the tip of his nose. “Let me see those pretty eyes, baby,” he whispered.

His own vision had adjusted to the dark by now. When you tilted your head upwards, he could see the small spheres all glossy, your lashes wet with the recent tears. He leaned in and kissed the shiny streaks running down your cheeks. The right one first, then the left. His hand cupped your face with all the care in the world.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured as he brushed the tip of his nose against yours.

You gazed back into his bright blue eyes. God, you knew you should make this harder for him. He deserved to work for your forgiveness, but nothing made you weak like Clark. One glimpse of his eyes all wide, looking at you like a scolded puppy, and any anger towards him melted away like ice left out in the summer.

He laid a few more kisses along your face, moving his lips from one feature to the next. “You’re too sweet to be crying like this on your special day,” he said.

His thumbs swiped away remaining tears while your eyes began to dry up. Warmth filled your body again, blooming up in the hollow cold left by your prior loneliness. Looking at his face pushed the sadness away. Maybe today hadn’t been totally ruined.

“I won’t let this happen again, alright?” he told you in a hushed tone despite no one else being in the house. He made sure not to promise though. “I’ll get a calendar or something. I’ll write notes for myself. I’ll write ‘em all over my body like in that movie we watched last summer.”

“The movie that you left halfway through,” you said, your voice gently teasing now.

He exhaled sharply, and a smile spread across his lips. His eyes held a degree of shame still. It felt wrong to laugh about something like that when it was a piece of the issue at hand. But he could tell you were trying to lighten the mood, and he wouldn’t make you feel bad about that.

“I still got the idea,” he defended and ducked in, giving you another long kiss.

His arms pulled you tighter against his body while his hands swept down onto your back. One stayed between your shoulder blades as the other ventured South. His fingers glided over the small of your back, coasting over the top of your ass.

“Let me make it up to you,” he said.

You bit your lip at the sensation of his roaming hands. Allowing him a few more smooches, you finally pulled back to catch your breath for a moment.

“How do you wanna do that?” you asked.

He grinned, those sharp canines peeking out near the corners of his mouth. “I have something in mind, but any way you want is fine, baby,” he murmured.

“You can try your way…” you agreed. You had an idea of what he was picturing, and it wasn’t something you felt the urge to interfere with.

“Try,” he repeated playfully before pulling you into another series of kisses.

The two of you stumbled away from the front door and your gifts left on the end table. His feet followed yours down the hallway in the direction of your bedroom. Your back bumped into the wall a few times before you both slipped through the entrance of your room and found your ways to the bed.

The backs of your thighs hit your soft mattress first. Your smooth skin rubbed against the floral sheets spread over your bed. You let yourself fall back, and Clark’s body went with yours.

You shifted around, scooting up so that your head was on one of the plush pillows near the top of the mattress. He ended up with his frame hovering above your own. Only a few seconds passed before he pressed his lips to your again. Sometimes it felt as though Clark could kiss you all night. He paid so much attention to your lips, put so much dedication into every flick of his tongue and teasing pull with his teeth.

Your hands tried to return the same amount of reverence with their touches. You rubbed them up over his broad shoulders and along the nape of his neck. Your fingertips twisted the ends of his dark hair before sliding between the strands and scratching his scalp.

A groan rumbled up from his chest. You responded with a softer moan of your own. To go with the sound, your legs rose up against his sides and pressed into his hips. You pulled him closer, subtly urged him to tend to you where you wanted him most.

He finally pulled his mouth off you a minute later. His breaths now came out in harsh pants. The warm air fanned over your face while you stared up at your boyfriend. A cute shade of pink filled his cheeks while his pupils dilated with lust for you. His lips shimmered with your saliva under the faint light of the moon beaming through the window.

“My perfect, pretty girl,” he mumbled before dropping his head to your neck.

His attention focused there now. He kissed all over the column of your throat, moving without much strategy. Most of the time, Clark was very eager for you. He explored your body based on pure desire and nothing else. It always ended up feeling good for you though. Seeing his passion was half the pleasure.

While his lips worked above, his hands groped at you below. His large palms massaged your hips and smoothed up and down your sides.  His fingers kneaded your soft flesh. The feel of it alone had him starting to fill out in his jeans.

“You deserve so much, baby. So much more than I give you. Gonna try to make you feel how much you deserve,” he muttered against your skin, lust-fueled thoughts escaping without resistance.

At your waist, his fingers hooked over the hem of your pajama bottoms and gave the fabric a shove. “Lift your hips for me, honey,” he directed.

You did so without a question, allowing him to pull the garment the rest of the way off. It was so frustrating for Clark sometimes. He had the ability to literally tear your clothes to shreds. If he wanted to, those pants could have been gone faster than you could have asked him not to rip them. But for now, he still had to play the game by normal rules.

He moved his way over to your collarbone and placed a few kisses along the neckline of your shirt before migrating South. His hands fell from your hips to your thighs. He gave them the same treatment, squeezing and grabbing. But he wasted no time in parting them.

With one palm on each, he spread you open for himself and settled between your open legs. The sight of your panties greeted him. The dainty cloth covered the precious part of you he was aching to see. He stared at the material for a moment. It wasn’t wet yet, but it was tight against your folds. He could see so much of you without really seeing anything at all.

Leaning in, he kissed your pussy over the fabric. It was chaste. Something less sinful than anything he’d done to your mouth. His thumb came next. He ran the thick digit from the bottom of your slit all the way up to your clit. He kept the pace nice and slow, teasing enough that a shudder came over you as you fought the urge to squirm.

His eyes flitted up to your face. He couldn’t get enough of how cute you were. The desperation was written all over your face.

“I’m not gonna tease, sweetheart. Not on your birthday. Not when I already made you wait too long,” he cooed.

His long index finger hooked around the seat of your panties and gave them a good tug. He worked the small scrap off of you and tossed it to the floor. They landed near the mirror. He only noticed because beside it was a dress, slung over the back of a chair. It was lacy and layered and cute. Probably the one you had on earlier. He could only imagine how sad you looked while taking it off and swapping it out for the more comfortable clothes you had on now.

He had to make this good for you.

Returning his focus to the junction of your thighs, his eyes fixating on your cunt in front of him. Your folds gleamed with the beginnings of arousal. His teasing had been just enough to get the fire started inside of you.

He looked back up at your face and brought his own that much closer. “You don’t know how lucky I feel to call this mine,” he said before kissing your clit.

A broken whine crackled out into the air. The touch was so gentle, so soft. It didn’t really feel like much. But the sight of him, the sound of his voice, his mere existence had your body reacting like a live wire right now.

Clark stuck out his tongue and dragged it up the wet expanse of your pussy. The first couple licks were exploratory, but after a few more, they became greedy. He lapped at your cunt. The tip of his tongue swirled over your entrance and danced across your sensitive bundle of nerves. His eyes fluttered shut at the taste of you.

Meanwhile, more sweet noises poured from your lips. You whined and moan, a few times only managing to choke out a breathy mewl. One of your hands clutched at his hair while the other alternated between clawing at the blankets and covering your face. It flipped back and forth between the two, trying to find the one that would bring some stability.

Nothing you do could fight off the feeling of him though. His lips spread and closed, making out with your pussy. He got louder down there. Wet noises echoed between your thighs. None of them bothered him. He was wrapped up in the task of pleasing you. Nothing else mattered.

Clark didn’t get embarrassed in moments like these. Sometimes while on top of you he could get flustered, but with your pussy like this, he couldn’t string together the thoughts that would cause actual embarrassment. All he could fathom was a craving for more of you.

In these moments, you surrounded him completely. Your thighs wrapped around his head, pressing your skin against him. Your taste flooded his mouth. Your scent filled his nose. All he could hear were your needy cries. It was heaven, absolute paradise.

Grabbing your legs tighter, he held you in place more. You hadn’t started squirming yet, but by the time you felt the urge to, you’d be pinned in place. Somehow he put more effort into this now. He boosted your hips a bit before devouring you.

His mouth worked with desperation you’d never seen from him before. You called out his name before choking out another moan and letting your head fall back. He ground his hips into the mattress below him, chasing whatever physical pleasure he could find to match the bliss he felt inside.

While on top of you, Clark could run his mouth. Endless babbles of praise and cooed praises would fall from his lips. But right now, he was fixated on using his mouth for something more important. He could feel your muscles flexing against his tongue, clenching around nothing. You were getting close.

“That’s it, baby. Feels good?” he asked when he finally pulled himself back for some air. His fingers took over his mouth's duty, rubbing your clit fast and with good pressure.

Your hips bucked as a yelp flew out of you. Despite that, you still nodded as fast as you could. “Mhm. Gonna cum,” you whimpered, as if he needed the warning.

“Go ahead, birthday girl. You can cum whenever you're ready,” he said. He smacked a kiss on your thigh before diving back in and nuzzling into your cunt. His tongue swirled with fervent admiration before lashing over your little bud.

The rapid motion flicks you right over the edge. You gasped before whining. Your hips squirmed while you closed your fingers into a fist around Clark’s hair. You grabbed the soft tresses so tightly you might have pulled a few out. He didn’t complain about any of it though. How could he? It felt like everything in the world was perfect when he had you like this.

He rolled his own hips against the mattress a few more times. You were so caught up in your own release that you didn’t hear the whimpers coming from him. You didn’t catch the vibrations from his moans reverberating against your skin. His own pleasure did nothing but spur him on to keep working you through yours.

As you started to come down, he was still going. His movements were a bit sloppier, but he didn’t have any plans of stopping. It was when you whimpered and pushed at his head that he backed off. 

He looked up at you. Despite the smirk on his face, his voice came out gentle. “No more? You too sensitive?”

You nodded. “If you can stay, we have the whole night,” you offered.

His smirk broke into a full smile, and he crawled up the mattress to peck your lips. “I can stay. It’s still your birthday after all. We got some more celebrating to do.”

“Mhm,” you agreed. You kissed him again, tasting yourself as your lips met. Your hand trailed down his body to the waistline of his jeans. Before you could even ask, his fingers wrapped around your wrist and guided your limb back up.

“I’m fine, baby,” he said with a sheepish smile, “Plus it’s your birthday. It’s supposed to be all about you.”

“Oh my god, you’re really pushing the birthday thing,” you teased.

“I’m gonna keep pushing it until midnight because it’s true,” he said back. His hands cupped your face while he looked down at you.

After the two of you messed around a little more, Clark remembered the things he had left out by the front door. Pushing himself off the bed, he headed for the door. He was quick about getting your things, but he paused on the way back.

Instead of going straight to you, he walked into your kitchen. Rummaging through some of the drawers crammed full of spare parts and random coupons, he found a half-used pack of birthday candles and a lighter.

After opening the box that held your cake, he put it on a plate and jammed a pink-striped candle into the icing of your cupcake. With a click of the lighter, he topped it off with a small flame.

He headed back to your room, walking slowly so as to not have a surprise-ruining mishap on the way. Once he appeared in the doorway, you glanced at him. Your eyes caught on the lit up cupcake, and your whole face brightened. He chuckled and walked further into the room. Seeing that made the beginning of the evening sting less.

“You’re not singing,” you teased as you sat up on your bed and watched.

“That’s because I want you to have a nice birthday,” he replied.

The words brought actual laughter out of you, but you sat there patiently waiting as he walked over with the plate. He sat down beside you and held the plate before you. The whole time he remained careful, conscious of not getting the flame too close to any part of you.

“You gotta make your wish now,” he said and kissed your cheek.

Smiling at him, you thought for a second before turning towards the small flicker of fire. You stared at it for a moment, and then blew a small stream of air. It danced under the breeze before dissolving into thin smoke. He reached over and popped the stick of wax out for you, so you could eat your treat without impediment.

“What’d you wish for?” he asked as he brought the frosting-coated end to his lips.

“You know the rules. If I tell you, it’ll never come true,” you answered and took a bite.

He rolled his eyes, giving you a little poke to the side. “What about last year? That one come true yet or is it still a secret?”

“Still a secret,” you affirmed. You extended the bitten cupcake out to him. “Want some?”

“No, I’m alright. Already had my dessert,” he teased as he got up to throw away the candle. The words earned him a whine and a smack from you along with some grumbling about him being corny. But you had a smile on your face now, and that’s all he could want.

[bonus-links]

MY TIME HAS COME please discuss in great detail the GrooZeLink dynamics in prologue part 5. I am so intrigued by the stark differences between this shot:

And this shot:

The scar on triforce. The hiding. Please tell me everything there is to know

this is 4 u groozelinkers

why did i do text bubbles this way. how did anyone read this comic. god bless.

this is essentially Loft Monologues His Feelings The Update. It was very important to me that the audience understands where Loft's head is at from the get-go. and like listen, sometimes u have to have a bestie debrief even if ur bestie is a dormant sword spirit who can't talk to u. if bonus links was a musical this would be Loft's I want song lol

jokes aside I think Loft comes here to talk to Fi a lot. it makes him feel both better and worse

LOFTS FI IMPRESSION i feel like he used to do this a lot and thought it was so funny and every time Fi would be like. objectively that is not what i sound like. also, peep the textbox pattern!

even though Loft has trouble acclimating to life on the surface, it was important to me to show that it's not all like. angst and doom and gloom. But that's kind of the problem right? things are good, and he feels like this anyway. also I did my best to include most of the young adult skyloft npcs, I feel like the older one have mostly stayed up on Skyloft for now. LAKE TRIP!!

this is a direct reference to this shot from the game. this line of dialogue is an important thing to keep in mind. tbh the entire reason this comic exists is bc i thought too hard about the implications of skyward sword— what if you found out your girlfriend was really your god, who had orchestrated your entire life? wouldn't that make everything feel a little strange, even if you love her more than anything? much to think about

I like the scar through the triforce mark as a kind of symbolic gesture, but there's not really any intended meaning behind the two pieces of the triforce is goes through. feel free to interpret it however u like tho lol

AND THIS SHOT my headcanon is that Loft doesn't actually help much with the early building in Faron. It's partially because he can't- he pushes his body to the limit during his quest, and then completely crashes when it's over, and it takes a loooong time to even start recovering. He spends most of the time sleeping.

But it's also partially because he doesn't actually want to move to the surface. He wants to stay on Skyloft. In my mind it's like. he fought really hard to return to a state of normalcy that doesn't exist anymore, and that's hard to come to terms with. This is Zelda and Groose's project, and while he'll go along with it, he's not that enthusiastic about it. It's a source of tension in their relationship. Combined with Zelda often acting as a mouthpiece for the gods, it starts to grate on Loft that this aspect of his future has also apparently been decided.

tldr groozelink love each other a lot but things are definitely not perfect, and especially not right now

this is actually something I intended to get a little bit more into in ch2, but the chapter kind of. wrote itself away from it. every time I tried to include a scene with it, it felt too much like I was forcing characters to have too many heart-to-hearts too early. we'll get there eventually

this is an important update in the grand scheme of things :-) mystery mouseketool etc etc

[briefeee]

Hello, it is me again, back for more as I work through all of your older arts for this AU, this one might be shorter than most posts. I finished cranking out some kind of analysis paper for uni and wanted to do something more fun with my brain 2333

I get a little obsessive with how much Jazz smiles here, I find his entire body language so fluid and full of trust for/to OP. His playful wink and smile as well, very cute and panda like of him. He's just really cute and carefree, if OP wants something, OP gets (in my head at least).

So much care in how the visor was removed from his face too, some kind of gentle swoop in and grab motion from OP's hands with how it comes clean off and it's really cute to see how OP looks wearing it. He reminds me of those really adventurous cats that love to take part in the things their owners do because it makes them feel a mutual connection (like makeup, showers, eating) a lot; their own way of bonding. I know by now my theory of Jazz knowing about the garment touching was correct (I was already following this AU when it came out), but tbh I always did wonder if he picked up on OP having cried around this time or guessed why and then this moment followed after (if im wrong, im wrong!)) Whatever led to this moment and the expression Jazz had seeing OP in his garment, I find their relationship as friends very endearing and sweet

"Something takes over when I look at you, it's a sudden rush of tenderness for you, so even if it isn't our fate, consider this an act of proclaimed love. In my memory, the moment never ends. For we stay there still looking at each other like that."

Jazz passed the test woohoo!!!! Official apprentice of Nexus Prime!!

I think I'll draw a guide to all the available garments sometime!

New fun fact! If touching was already bad, wearing another House's garment is an absolute sacrilege!! It implies that you're conjunxed to the person belonging to that House or at least, promised to them :D

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Epilogue

Masterlist Word count: 2.3 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: That's it guys. Thank you so much for reading and all the sweet comments. I've had a blast writing this story<3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'So tell me, Rafayel, did you actually set them up,' Zayne asks with a smile as he looks at the happy couple. Rafayel frowns at him. 

'No. Why would I want them to move in together? That's less rent money,' he says in an annoyed, whiny voice. But then he sighs and rolls his eyes, making his annoyed façade a lot less believable. 'I guess they look good together though.' 

'That they do,' Zayne agrees, smiling as he looks at the happy couple entering the ballroom together. 

Today, he had had the great honor of being your best man with Tara by his side as your bridesmaid. He doesn't think he's ever been prouder than he was seeing you walk down the aisle in your beautiful wedding dress with your hair and makeup all done up and the biggest smile on your face.  

It became even more beautiful when he heard the softest sob coming from the man standing there waiting for you. Tears of joy freely flowed down his cheeks as he wore a smile as big as yours. 

He's glad you've found your forever person and couldn't be happier for you. He gets to watch you grow happier and happier each and every day, gets to see you with a partner that allows you to be yourself fully and give yourself fully without taking too much. By now, he loves Sylus like a brother and can't imagine his life without him. 

As he watches Sylus and you sway over the dance floor, your first dance as husband and wife, it brings a tear to his eyes. When the song ends, you approach him with outstretched hands. He takes a quick peek behind you at Sylus to check if it's okay. Sylus nods with a calm smile as Zayne takes your hand. Together, you sway across the dance floor with Sylus gentle eyes on the both of you, smiling contently. 

'Zayne, I don't think I can ever thank you enough for everything you've done for me, for us, but still... Thank you.' 

'I'd do it again a million times to see you happy.' You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. He looks over at Sylus, who is still happily looking at the two of you. It is truly a gift that you two managed to end up together like this. The happiness that has been granted to you is a gift from the gods, truly. He can only hope he'll find something like this for himself. 

'Remind me to introduce you to one of my colleagues,' you say with a cheeky grin, 'I think you'll like her.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'Wait, stop,' you giggle, pushing Sylus off you. The man has been leeching on your neck ever since people started leaving. He pouts at you but lets you do what has to be done. Which is unlocking the door to your shared apartment. When you push the door open, he picks you up and you squeal. 'What are you doing?' 

'Carrying my bride over the threshold,' he states proudly as he walks into the apartment. He closes the door with a kick and carries you straight to the bedroom where he gently puts your back on your feet. 'Would you grant me the honor of taking off your dress?' 

'If you promise me we'll take a shower after.' His pout reappears. The man was banking on something else happening, but you have been in a heavy dress all day and you truly want to wash the day away. It was beautiful and a memory that you'll never forget, but you can almost feel your skin itch under your makeup. 'Please?' 

'Anything my wife wants, my wife gets,' he agrees and walks around you to busy himself with the beautiful pearl buttons on the back of your dress. 'You were enchanting today. Truly in my top five of your most beautiful moments.' 

'Top five? Is it even number one?' 

'No, number one will always be when I woke up with you after we finally had the talk. But it's a good number two.' You giggle as you feel his hands gently work your buttons. Each inch of freed skin is kissed lovingly. 

'What are the others?' 

'Five is when I saw you for the very first time. I was having a terrible time setting up my apartment and you came over with that bottle of whiskey.' You let out a chuckle. 

'You were so rude to me.' 

'I was, but you were beautiful. Even if you did look annoyed,' he adds and continues his list, 'number four is the first time you let me eat you out.' Another chuckle leaves your lips, but then you feel his hands on your hips as he kneels down onto the floor. 

'And number three will be waking up with you tomorrow. The first time waking up with you as my wife,' his voice sounds a little wobbly. When you look over your shoulder, you can tell he has tears in his eyes. With the last button undone, you turn and kneel on the floor with him, taking his face in your hands. He instantly leans into your touch, eyes closing to focus on the warmth you spread through his body. 'I could've never imagined we would've made it this far if it hadn't been for your stubbornness.' 

It almost sounds like a joke, but he means it wholeheartedly. 'And I would do it again and again, a million times if I have to, if that means I get you as my husband,' you tell him, not a trace of uncertainty in your words. His eyes open again and he looks at you, taking in your figure. The dress draping off your shoulders, your makeup so perfectly done, the honestly in your face. 

'I don't know what I've done to deserve you, but it must've been pretty damn good,' he tries to joke, but a tear slips out. Your thumb wipes it away and you lean in to press a kiss on his lips. It's searing hot, a burning promise to stand beside him whatever may come next. 

As lips part, he seems much better. You smile and get up from your knees, offering him your hand. 'Now, I think it's about time we consummate this marriage.' He takes your hand and gets up, pressing a kiss on your cheek. 

'Sweetie, I know you're tired. Let's just take a shower.' 

'Fine,' you pretend to be annoyed, but he sees right through it. 'I'm waking you up with a blowie though.' 

'If I ever say no to that, shoot me.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Despite both being drained from the wedding, you talked for hours. About the past, the present, the future. Little things you hadn't admitted to each other, like Sylus secret love of Fleetwood Mac and your extreme love for- and fascination with sunsets. By the time you both fell asleep, it must've been three or four am. So you aren't really surprised that you wake up with the late morning sun bathing the whole room in a warm orange. 

However, you could've slept for much longer had it not been for a certain someone sucking hickeys on your thighs. With a sluggish movement, you pick up the covers and see Sylus between your legs. Each of his arms wrapped around a thigh, your underwear nowhere to be seen, and a cheeky grin on his lips when he meets your eyes. 

'I thought I said I was going to give you a blowjob.' 

'Well, the day is still young,' he rasps, his voice still full of sleep, 'and I intent to show my wife how much I love her first.' My wife. The words make his stomach tingle the same as they do for you. 

'Okay, but push the covers off. I want to see my husband.' 

'Yes ma’am.' He throws off the covers in one swift motion and plunges right into his breakfast. Right away, flattening his tongue against your clit and licking a thick stripe. Your back arches as you whimper his name. After that, there's no stopping him. 

He plunges two fingers into you and eats like a man starved, like he needs your pussy to stay alive. His fingers pump and curl deliciously inside of you while your body moves uncontrollably, only staying in place because of Sylus’ tight grip on your thighs. The room is filled with moans and whimpers of Sylus’ name. He revels in it. 

Before you know it, your orgasm washes over you. As you try to steady your breathing, Sylus moves from his spot which is slightly uncharacteristic for him. Usually, he tries to get you on the edge of a second orgasm first. 

'My beautiful wife, would you grant me the honor of fulfilling a fantasy of mine,' he asks between kisses as he makes his way slowly to your mouth, placing a loving kiss right on your lips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you. 

'And what would that be, husband?' 

'Remember that video in my bathroom of me jerking off?' You nod. 'That was the evening after the party. I heard you masturbating and I started imagining being with you. Holding you. I'd like to fuck you how I imaged I would.' 

'Is this something we need a traffic light system for?' He shakes his head. 

'No, none of that. I just want you to stay laying here, just like this and,' he gently lifts your legs until your feet are planted on his mattress, thighs far enough apart to allow space for him. He takes your hands and move them into the hair on the back of his neck. He spreads his legs, sitting on his heels as he gently lines his length up to your pussy. 'Is this alright for you?' 

A smile spreads across your face. This is nothing special. It almost makes you blush that he would imagine such a normal scene and get off so hard on it. You nod and pull on his hair. 'Fuck me, Sylus.' 

He slips in gently and leans closer to press his lips on yours, setting a gentle pace as he kisses you deeply. But you quickly get enough of the slow pace and pull his hair again to separate his lips from yours. 'Quicker, please,' you beg, looking desperate and longing for release. With a smile, he starts driving his length into you at a quicker pace. An orchestra of the little sounds you make fills the room once more. It's so much more beautiful than he imagined back then, so much more beautiful. Your eyes are focused on him and only him. 

'You're absolutely stunning, sweety,' he tells you as he leans closer, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you closer, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and shoulders. Your hands slip out of his hair and onto his back, your nails leaving works of art on his back in despair. One of his hands leaves your body, moving between the two of you to rub your bundle of nerves, helping you closer to a state of ecstasy. 

'Sylus, you feel so good,' you manage to moan out, clawing your way as close to him as you possibly can. In response, he pulls you up into his lap and holds you close to his chest, as close as humanly possible, while picking up the pace and drilling into you. 

Your moans become louder and you are so grateful the bedroom doesn't border on another apartment as you hear the bed creak pitifully. In a terrible attempt to silence yourself as you rapidly get closer to the edge, you bite down on his collarbone. He groans out your name in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The feeling tips him over the edge. 

His hands grab your hips so hard you're sure it'll bruise, severing you the same mixture of pain and pleasure to help you tip over the edge and fall into the abyss with him. Your teeth let go of his skin as you whole body shakes in pleasure. Sylus holds you close, his arms wrapping around your body like a safety net whilst his hips jerk up to help you ride through your orgasm. 

When he feels your shaking subside, he gently lays you down on the bed and slips out of you. A pathetic whine slips from your lips as your face contorts in disagreement, but all he can see is his beautiful wife. His absolutely perfect wife who is so willing to give herself to him. 

He lays down and snuggles up to you, arms wrapping around your body like they're meant to be there. 'You did perfect.' 

'Sylus?' He hums in response, eyes already closed again, ready for a nap. 'Can I say that I am absolutely flattered that this is what you thought of doing with me the first time you met me?' 

'You can, but do remember that I first fell for you because you were being a brat,' he retorts. There's a chuckle in the back of your throat, but you force it down and huff instead, pretending you're that bratty again. A rumbling laugh goes through his chest. 'I'm joking.' 

'You're really not.' 

'No, I'm not. I still love you though.' The biggest grin spreads on your face, basking in the bliss that this beautiful man loves you. It's something that you didn't see coming, but when you first saw him it hit you like a semitruck. You truly couldn't be happier than you are when you're with him and you hope you'll ever find the words to truly express that to him. 

'I love you too.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Previous - Fin. - Back to the start

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Taglist

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∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

[mxrcurysb1tch]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Astrology 🐉observations pt. 5 ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Song of the day <3 idk why but feeling this vibe today fr fr maybe it’s the Leo full moon making me wanna partyyyy

^ྀི Gemini moons are super intelligent and generally study maths or engineering. They’re also super good at getting stuff done even though they never seem to ever be actually working? It’s like a talent.

^ྀི Ever wonder how someone can think a certain way and yet speak in a totally different way? They likely have their moon and mercury in completely different signs. For example, I’m a Capricorn moon with a Leo Mercury and while I am generally very hard on myself and sometimes pessimistic, it sometimes comes out as me appearing overly confident or self obsessed even though I feel anything but that. Another example is, a Gemini moon I know, he is always overthinking in his mind, feels anxious or flighty but his speech is very calm and levelled, since he is a Capricorn Mercury. This can sometimes lead to frustration especially if Mercury is debilitated or retrograde. People with complimentary or the same moon and mercury sign might have a more congruent way of expressing themselves and because they are sure of their convictions, many people may listen to them and respect them.

^ྀི Mars and Mercury conjunctions make someone very good at insults or even verbal aggression, depending on the sign/house and other placements. Their humour is likely to be playfully making fun of people or even themselves. They may be witty with it too. When it comes to arguments they always know exactly what to say to win.

^ྀི Virgo placements especially rising, sun and mars have a tendency to be very connected to their bodies, and even hyper aware of the processes going on inside them. They’re not usually the types to forget to eat or rest. Not because they know better (but let’s face it they usually do) but simply because they feel their internal sensations so strongly. It can also sometimes develop into psycho-somatic conditions or health anxiety if it is too pronounced.

^ྀི Having multiple detriment placements (especially if you also have no domiciles and if Saturn is also involved) can make the native feel like they have to work super hard at everything they do and like nothing comes naturally to them. They might feel like they aren’t talented or gifted in any way or that they weren’t blessed in life like other people are. This usually isn’t true though, what these natives need is a bit of self belief and self love.

^ྀི Meeting someone with the same moon sign as you is an elite experience. You might just feel connected to them in some way and just intuitively understand each other. Of course it will depend on their other placements too, but usually you guys will feel like the other “just gets it”. This is because you won’t have to explain to them why you feel a certain way or modify your expression in order to relate to them on a deeper level. My childhood best friend has the same moon sign as me and I have always felt like we are platonic soulmates.

^ྀི Whichever house you have Scorpio in can show where/what in your life you are most secretive about. For example, if you have Scorpio in your 2nd house you might be very secretive about your money, home or possessions. You might not want people to know how you earn money/how much you earn or you might not like having people come over to your house. If you have Scorpio in the 7th house you might be secretive about your relationships, you might engage in a lot of clandestine flings or affairs.

^ྀི People with the same sun as their rising feel so warm and genuine, what you see is what you get. They’re usually super confident in their own skin. They can’t help but be transparent and bare their souls to you. The degree to which will depend on the sign, of course. However, People with the same moon as their rising might feel overexposed and vulnerable. They usually have a more quiet presence, or always look like they’re sad or far away. They’re usually lost in thought or emotion though as they can’t help but be forced to examine their inner world in excruciating details.

[authorhjk1]

If you could sign an SNSD for each of the Vixen Media Group porn sites, who would you sign?

Taeyeon

for Blacked Raw

Taeyeon has always been a fan of big cocks. She might be small, but that's what excites her even more. At first, she didn't care about who fucked her on camera as long as someone did fuck her. But overtime, her preferences has shifted over towards black cocks. That's why she's now Blacked Raw's number one star.

Jessica

for Vixen

With Jessica it's all about luxury and long build ups. Most of her videos have a proper storyline with multiple sex scenes. It's not that cheap cliche porn plot either. Most people might skip the long build ups, hoping for an amazing time, which is of course guaranteed, but the people who really know her, know it's best to just go with the flow and watch how Jessica acts her heart out every single time, before she gets fucked in an expensive hotel, at the beach, or a museum.

Sunny

for Slayed

Sunny isn't purely into women and has her fair share of videos where a man makes her eyes roll to the back of her head. But for some reason, she seemed to be the perfect fit. If you want to watch two, three, four or even more women getting each other off, a video including Sunny should be your pick. She's guaranteed to make her female costars lose their minds during their orgasms and looks just as sexy when she cums as well.

Tiffany

for Vixen

Tiffany is similar to Jessica in terms of luxury porn. Everything has to be expensive and fancy and she always seems to be a wife of a rich husband or a billionaire herself. But instead of long, sometimes even complicated storylines, it's all about cheating with Tiffany. It doesn't matter where and when or with whom. She might play a millionaire's wife and the video is set in their luxurious villa, but she is still getting plowed like a cheap whore by her husband's gardener in the middle of their living room.

Hyoyeon

for Blacked

At the beginning of her career, Hyoyeon didn't care who fucked her, or how she got fucked. She liked to do everything, but she was always dreaming of something. She always wanted to try out the set of red, or white or black underwear with the word Blacked all over it. And now, for the last couple of years, she has been wearing it with pride. She finally got what she wanted and is now the number one model for Blacked.

Yuri

for Tushy

Yuri never tried anal before getting into porn and even then it took a while, until she finally had her first anal scene. To her own surprise, she loved every second of it. And after doing it a couple of times afterwards, she slowly started to get really into it. And now, Yuri is the star if you want to watch a hot woman getting her ass fucked. She eventually got into toys as well and now almost every single video of hers includes some kind of toy. If the simple plot allows, she will wear a butt plug, even before the shoot even starts.

Sooyoung

for Deeper

Sometimes, Sooyoung seems to be two different people in one body. She has the perfect attitude and body to be the one who punishes you all night long, but can also be the one who tries to hold in her deepest moan as she gets fucked while being bent over in some library. She likes to tie her costars up just as much as she likes being tied up herself. Ropes, ties, blindfolds, collars, everything goes. Although sometimes, she needs a little push to get herself into the more submissive position. That's why it's so much fun to watch her getting spanked at the beginning of a sex scene. You can watch yourself how she gets wetter with every spank. How she begins to beg for more, everytime someone's hand hits her butt cheeks.

Yoona

for Milfy

It obviously took her a while, until Yoona finally got to where she is now. You can't just start out as a MILF pornstar at any age. And despite Yoona still looking so young, her videos have been watched thousands of times. Especially by men who are younger than her. And she has done any role there is. Stepmother, step aunt, teacher, the boss's wife, the rich sugar mommy and your best friend's mother. It's all about how caring she is and genuinely seems to be interested in roles she is playing. She always had a thing for younger guys herself, that's why she already made a name for herself as the older stepsister, until she finally got signed by Milfy.

Seohyun

for Tushy Raw

Seohyun is widely known for being impatient. She often potrays the younger stepsister or stepdaughter, but can also be the cute, bratty neighbor. Tushy Raw is her thing, because there isn't much build up and she can get straight to getting her ass fucked in some dimly lit hotel room. There isn't any focus on a lot of plot or anything, she just enjoys the raw fucking. Not just during a shoot but also afterwards. Seohyun loves to watch her own videos to get herself off at home. The feeling of watching herself getting fucked on all fours, staring back at herself through the camera makes her orgasm every time when she's alone.

[evermoreness]

wingman | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader!

summary: james definitely has a crush on you, but he won't admit it. so his best friend sirius steps up to be his wingman.

masterlist

If Sirius Black had one true passion in life—aside from pranks, Quidditch, and being generally insufferable—it was meddling. Specifically, meddling in James Potter’s disastrous love life.

The problem wasn’t that James lacked charm. No, James was overflowing with charm, much to the dismay of every professor at Hogwarts. The problem was that James refused to acknowledge that he had feelings for you—his best friend, his ultimate rival, his favorite person to annoy.

And, as Sirius often pointed out (loudly, in the middle of breakfast), you were just as bad.

Which is why, after months of watching you and James dance around each other with an infuriating amount of tension, Sirius decided enough was enough.

It was time for some intervention

Step number one

It started in Transfiguration.

You strolled into class, fully expecting to take your usual seat next to Lily, but before you could sit, a strong arm slung around your shoulders.

“Ah-ah,” Sirius drawled, spinning you around and gently shoving you into the seat next to James instead. “New seating chart, love. Professor's orders.”

You frowned. “Professor McGonagall never changes the seating chart.”

“She does now,” Sirius said, smirking before plopping down beside Lily, effectively blocking your escape route.

You turned to James, who was lounging in his chair, grinning like the cocky little git he was. “Look at that. You’re stuck with me.”

You groaned, turning to Sirius. "You look suspicious"

"When do i not?" Sirius said, grinning like he was planning something.

"Fair point." You said, before turning to James. “Merlin help me,”

James gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “How dare you? I am an absolute delight to sit next to.”

“You poke people with your quill and hum off-key when you’re bored,” you shot back.

“I serenade,” he corrected.

“You butcher perfectly good songs.”

James leaned in, his face just a little too close, and smirked. “Admit it. You’d miss me if I wasn’t here.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your heart did a stupid little flip. “Sure, Potter. I’d be devastated.”

“You could just admit you love spending time with me,” James offered.

You scoffed. “Or I could stab you with my quill.”

James leaned in, lowering his voice to a teasing whisper. “Kinky.”

McGonagall just ignored them all, she had learned a long time ago she couldn't keep up with the Marauders antics. So she just let them. It was best for her mental health. But she still could hear you and James bickering every time she turned to write something on the black board.

James, completely unbothered, leaned closer to you, elbow on the desk, chin resting on his hand. “Well, you heard the professor. We’re partners now. Best get used to staring at me all class.”

You rolled your eyes, flicking his forehead with your quill. “Merlin, you wish I stared at you.”

James grinned. “You’re staring at me right now.”

You huffed. “Because I’m contemplating how best to Transfigure you into a ferret.”

Sirius cackled from behind you. "Oh, young love" he said, making you and James glare at him.

"Don't you have a boyfriend to annoy or something?" James asked, rolling his eyes.

"Remus is recovering from the full moon, idiot" Sirius said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He was about to say something more but McGonagall glared at the three of them.

McGonagall sighed again. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

At least, step one of Sirius' plan was definitely a success.

Step number two

The next part of Sirius’s plan required a little more... creativity.

Which is how you and James ended up in detention, standing outside McGonagall's office, glaring at a very pleased Sirius Black.

“Explain. Now,” you demanded.

Sirius shrugged. “Professor McGonagall may have received an anonymous tip that you two were planning to sneak into the kitchens after hours.”

“We weren’t,” you said flatly.

“Well, you should’ve been,” Sirius said, looking entirely unbothered. “Really, it’s your own fault for being so predictable.”

James groaned. “For Merlin’s sake, Padfoot.”

“Oh, don’t act so ungrateful,” Sirius scoffed, draping an arm around James’s shoulder. “I’m simply giving you both what you want. Quality time. Candlelit settings. Romance.”

“You’re sending us to detention,” you deadpanned.

“Exactly.” Sirius grinned. “Do you know how many legendary couples started with forced proximity? This is the perfect setup.”

James scoffed, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “You’re delusional.”

“And you are hopeless.” Sirius turned to you, wiggling his eyebrows.

You crossed your arms. “And what exactly do you gain from this?”

“An evening of uninterrupted flirting, obviously.”

James scoffed. “We don’t flirt.”

Sirius blinked. “Right. And I’m the Minister of Magic.”

Soon enough, Sirius was gone, and McGonagall assigned the two of you to polish the entire trophy room. Without magic. Which was, quite frankly, a crime against wizardkind.

“I think I’ve inhaled enough dust to choke a hippogriff,” you muttered, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smudge.

James, sprawled dramatically on the floor, groaned. “This is actual torture.”

You snorted. “Oh, please. You’ve been lying there for twenty minutes. I’m doing all the work.”

James grinned lazily. “I’m providing emotional support.”

“Oh, how noble.”

“I try.”

You rolled your eyes and flicked a damp rag at him. He yelped as it smacked him in the face.

“Oi! That’s rude.”

“I’m so sorry, did I offend the Great James Potter?” you said, smirking.

James leaned on his elbow, smirking right back. “Oh, love, you offend me constantly.”

“And yet, you keep coming back.”

James’s smirk faltered for half a second—just long enough for you to notice.

His hazel eyes flickered over your face, something softer in them now. Something that made your heart do a completely unnecessary little flip.

Before you could overthink it, James groaned and rolled onto his back dramatically. “I cannot polish one more bloody trophy.”

“You’ve polished one,” you pointed out.

“Exactly!”

You snorted. “Oh, poor baby, suffering through a whole hour of detention.”

James gasped, clutching his chest. “You wound me.”

“Oh, shut up and hand me the polish.”

But James didn’t move. He was staring up at the ceiling, brows furrowed.

“Oi. Potter. Earth to James.”

James blinked and turned his head to look at you.

“Have you ever thought about it?” he asked suddenly.

You frowned. “Thought about what?”

He hesitated. Then smirked. “How gorgeous I am.”

You groaned. “Oh, for the love of Merlin—”

“I mean, really,” James continued, grinning now. “It must be exhausting for you, being constantly exposed to this level of handsomeness.”

“Exhausting, yes,” you said dryly. “Mostly because of your ego.”

James laughed, and it was so genuine, so warm, that you almost forgot why you were annoyed in the first place.

Almost.

By the time detention ended, you were both covered in dust, exhausted, and slightly delirious.

You both stumbled out of the trophy room, stretching like freed prisoners.

“Well, that was awful,” James said cheerfully.

You sighed dramatically. “If I never see another trophy again, it’ll be too soon.”

James turned to you, smirking. “You know, we should really thank Sirius for this.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you deadpanned. “Maybe hex him as a thank-you.”

James grinned. “You do have the best ideas.”

You smirked up at him. “I know.”

James’s smirk softened slightly. His hazel eyes flickered down to your lips—just for a second.

Your heart definitely did not stutter. Absolutely not.

Neither of you spoke for a moment.

Then James cleared his throat. “So.”

“So,” you echoed.

James shifted on his feet, then suddenly grinned. “Race you to the common room?”

You snorted. “Please. You’d lose.”

James gasped. “Oh, is that a challenge?”

You smirked. “You tell me.”

James took a step closer. “Winner gets bragging rights.”

You took a step closer. “Loser has to buy Butterbeer next Hogsmeade trip.”

James grinned. “Deal.”

He started running before even counting to three, and you really tried to get into his pace but he was much faster than you. James got in front of the painting that guarded the Gryffindor common room, breathless, you got there second, just by some seconds of different.

James grinned, looking far too smug. “I win.”

You gaped at him. “That’s cheating!”

“Strategic advantage, love.”

“Oh, you’re insufferable—”

James laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the common room. “Come on, loser. You owe me a Butterbeer.”

You groaned, but you were smiling. “You’re impossible, Potter.”

James squeezed your hand. “You love it.”

And, Merlin help you, maybe you did.

Step number— Intervention!

By the end of the week, you had reached your limit.

You slammed your hands down on the Gryffindor table, glaring at Sirius. “I know what you’re doing.”

Sirius, mid-bite of toast, blinked innocently. “Doing what?”

“Every time I turn around, James is right there. Transfiguration. Potions. Detention.”

Sirius smirked. “Weird how that keeps happening, huh?”

You jabbed a finger at him. “Admit it.”

Sirius leaned back lazily. “Admit what? That my best mate is tragically in love with you and needs a little push?”

James, who had just sat down, immediately choked on his pumpkin juice. “SIRIUS!”

You and James turned bright red at the same time.

“I—You—” You spluttered, words failing you for the first time in your entire life. “He is not—”

Sirius just grinned wider.

James, still coughing, thumped his chest and pointed an accusatory finger at Sirius. “Mate. What the hell.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius scoffed. “We all see it. You two are basically a couple already.”

Remus, sipping his tea across the table, nodded. “He’s not wrong.”

Sirius put an arm around his boyfriend. "Thank you, Moony, at least one person on this table actually supports me"

Remus gave him a look "I never said that"

Sirius gasped in mock horror "Hey! I told you all my plans to make those two," He pointed at you both "Start dating and you actually said it was a good idea"

Remus just swallowed a piece of bread "You have no actual proof i said that"

James buried his face in his hands. “Merlin, kill me now.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “We are not dating.”

Sirius waved a hand. “Yet.”

You and James simultaneously threw a piece of toast at him.

It bounced off his head. He didn’t even flinch.

Sirius just grinned. “Give it a week.”

Step number... five?

The Gryffindor common room was unusually peaceful that evening. No firework explosions, no magical pranks, no Sirius Black laughing maniacally while being chased by McGonagall. Just a cozy fire, the occasional page-turning of a textbook, and the low murmur of students finishing their homework.

It was exactly the kind of peace Sirius Black found unacceptable.

He leaned over to Remus, whispering conspiratorially, “It’s time.”

Remus, who had been this close to finishing his Transfiguration essay, sighed. “Time for what?”

Sirius grinned wickedly. “Operation: Get James Potter a Girlfriend.”

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sirius, for the love of Merlin—”

But Sirius was already in motion, zeroing in on James and you, who were currently seated across from each other at the Gryffindor table, mid-banter as usual.

James leaned back in his chair, twirling his quill between his fingers. “You keep looking at me like that, love. Starting to think you fancy me.”

You scoffed, flipping a page in your textbook. “Oh, absolutely, James. Nothing gets my heart racing like watching you struggle with fourth-year level Charms.”

James gasped dramatically. “You wound me! I am excellent at Charms.”

You smirked. “Oh, of course. Remind me again, how many times did you accidentally set your own tie on fire last week?”

“Once,” James muttered. “And in my defense, the spell was successful. Just...with extra flair.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Hopeless.”

Sirius plopped himself down between you two, grinning like a madman. “Wow, the flirty tension in this room is suffocating.”

Both you and James immediately groaned in unison.

“Sirius—”

“Nope,” he cut you off, slamming a hand down on the table. “I refuse to sit idly by while you two idiots continue this will-they-won’t-they nonsense. So, I’ve decided to help.”

James narrowed his eyes. “Help how?”

Sirius smirked. “Oh, just making sure you two spend as much time together as possible.”

Before either of you could protest, he waved his wand.

Suddenly, the two of you lurched forward, an invisible force yanking you towards each other until your noses were barely an inch apart.

You blinked. James blinked.

“What. The. Hell.”

James tried to lean back, but something—no, Sirius—kept you stuck together.

“Black, if you don’t undo this spell right now, I swear to Merlin—” you started, your face rapidly heating.

Sirius just beamed. “Ah, young love.”

“Padfoot,” James hissed through gritted teeth. “If I hex you right now, will you undo it?”

Sirius shrugged. “Dunno. You could try, but you are currently nose-to-nose with your one true love, so any sudden movements might result in an accidental kiss.”

You and James immediately went rigid.

“You're so dead, Black.” you shouted.

Remus, watching from the sidelines, sighed deeply. “You do realize McGonagall is going to kill you for this.”

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, this is romantic. I’ll probably get an award.”

James turned back to you, his lips twitching despite himself. “So… reckon we just stay like this forever? Seems like Sirius has finally found a way to actually make you stare at me all day.”

You groaned. “Unbelievable. I’d rather kiss a Dementor.”

“Ouch,” James said, dramatically clutching his heart. “That’s cruel. I’d at least make a handsome Dementor.”

You huffed, crossing your arms—which was a bad idea, because now your hands were even closer to James’s chest.

Sirius gasped. “Oh, Merlin! Are you about to hold hands? Is this a moment?”

“I will kill you,” James said.

Remus, who was now actively ignoring the situation, muttered, “I’ll alert the authorities.”

Lily, walking past with a book, glanced at the scene, sighed, and kept walking. “You two deserve this.”

James grinned at you. “C’mon, admit it. This is the best day of your life.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Hm. Ask me again when I’m not glued to your face.”

Sirius sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. I’ll undo it. But only if you both admit you like each other.”

James and you both froze.

Silence.

You turned to James. James turned to you.

And then, at the exact same time, you both blurted out:

"Absolutely not.”

Sirius groaned. “Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.”

And with that, he flicked his wand, releasing the spell.

The moment you were free, you shoved James off of you, and he—completely unprepared—toppled off the bench and onto the floor with a very undignified yelp, making everyone laugh at him.

Step number 10? (Sirius has definitely lost counting)

It was pouring outside.

The Quidditch pitch was soaked, the thunder rumbled, and the storm showed no signs of letting up. You both had just gotten out of the game, and everything would’ve been fine, except you and James were currently locked in the Gryffindor locker room.

Courtesy of Sirius Black.

James banged on the door. “Pads, you absolute menace, open this door right now!”

Sirius’s laughter echoed from the other side. “Not until you both admit you’re in love with each other!”

You groaned. “You child!”

“Nope, just a genius. Have fun, lovebirds!”

And then—silence.

James sighed, running a hand through his soaked hair. “He’s never letting this go, is he?”

“Nope.”

You both stood there, dripping wet, silence stretching between you.

And then James said, “We could just… do it.”

You turned to him. “Do what?”

James shrugged. “Kiss. Just to get him off our backs.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So now you’re willing to waste your first kiss on me?”

James laughed softly. “I never said I didn’t want to kiss you.”

Oh.

The air between you shifted. His usual smirk was gone, replaced with something softer, something almost shy.

Your heart hammered. “Well… if we have to.”

James took a step closer. “Right. Just to get Sirius to shut up.”

Another step.

“Obviously.”

His hand brushed yours.

“No other reason.”

You swallowed. “None at all.”

And then he kissed you.

It was soft at first, tentative. But then you grabbed the front of his stupid Quidditch jersey, pulling him closer, and suddenly—it wasn’t just to get Sirius to shut up anymore.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy, James just grinned.

“So,” he said, “how mad would you be if I told you Sirius left five minutes ago?”

You blinked.

And then you shoved him.

“POTTER!”

James stumbled back, laughing as you shoved him again, harder this time. “You knew?” you accused, hands on your hips, still breathless from the kiss.

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Well, I suspected.”

“You absolute menace!”

James only laughed harder, dodging as you lunged for him. “Come on, love, don’t be mad—”

“Oh, don’t you ‘love’ me, Potter! You tricked me into—” You stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing what you were saying.

James smirked. “Into what?”

You scowled. “Into… into…”

His grin widened, and he leaned in. “Into kissing me?”

Your face burned. Damn him.

James stepped even closer, so close you could smell the rain still clinging to his skin. His voice was lower now, teasing but softer. “You did kiss me back, you know.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Only because you kissed me first.”

He nodded solemnly. “And you’re saying you hated it?”

You opened your mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. “That is not the point.”

James just laughed, and before you could shove him again, he caught your hands in his. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, and suddenly, the air between you wasn’t just playful anymore.

You swallowed. “Potter—”

He leaned in again, close enough that your noses nearly brushed. “I think,” he murmured, “we might have to do that again. You know, just to be sure.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding. “Oh, for research purposes?”

“Exactly.”

And then he kissed you again—this time slower, sweeter. No tricks, no games. Just you and him.

Outside, the storm raged on, but in that moment, all you could feel was warmth.

[imaginespazzi]

All Fell Down ~ Part 3 ~

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

* masterlist in collaboration with @azzibuckets *

summary: paige and azzi have never really been just best friends

a/n: Hello, hello my lovies <3 I'm so sorry; I literally just fully forgot to post this part yesterday because life has been so very hectic. But I think having an Azzi Fudd masterclass before this chapter is probably ideal. As always let me know your thoughts my loves!

Azzi should have expected the deafening silence that follows Paige’s name leaving her lips. If it wasn’t for the sound of the other girl’s breathing -staggered and heavy- she’d have thought perhaps it was a phantom call with no one on the other end of the line. And really Azzi doesn’t know what she was expecting; doesn’t know why she’d expected anything but exactly this when she’d picked up her phone. But when Paige’s CallerID had flashed on the screen, the buzzing of the ringtone cutting into Azzi’s pity party, there hadn’t been much else in her brain other than this sudden burst of hope. It had taken barely two rings before she was scrambling across her bed, grabbing her phone and hitting the green answer button with far too much vigor. It was one syllable but she’d wrapped Paige’s name in a desperate mixture of i just miss talking to you and please can can we fix this. And she’d gotten nothing in return.

“Paige?” she tries again, fighting the fresh new set of tears threatening to fall from her eyes; she’s lost count of how many times she’s cried tonight. 

There’s a sharp intake of air on the other end but still no response and whatever thin string had been holding the remnants of Azzi’s heart together seems to fray even more.

“Okay,” she breathes out, closing her eyes as she digs her fingernails into her palm, “okay Paige,” she repeats, her tone resigned and ready to accept something that feels a little too much like defeat, “I get it. I guess this was um- this was an accident or something so I’ll uh- I’ll hang-”

“Canyoucomepickmeup?” Paige’s words come out hoarse and slurred together as she cuts Azzi off.

“What?” the brunette’s eyes widen, unsure if she’s heard wrong. 

Azzi hears Paige gulp; can almost picture the blonde chewing at her lips like she usually does when she’s nervous, “I asked if- if you could um- can you come pick me up?”

“I-”

Paige begins to ramble before she can say anything, “it’s just uh- it’s just that the rest of team seems to be having a lotta fun and I- I think maybe I drank too much and my head’s throbbing and Evina says I should go home but-”

“Okay.”

“I can’t drive myself and I don’t- I don’t wanna ruin anybody else’s night-” Paige cuts herself mid sentence, taking a second to process what Azzi had just said, “wait- okay?”

The brunette has already slipped off her bed, rummaging around her bedside table for her car keys. She thinks she’s probably giving in a little too easily, thinks she should probably be more pissed at Paige’s audacity to not speak to her for two weeks and then call her out of nowhere to ask for a mundane favor. But it’s Paige. Her Paige. And Azzi knows that if the blonde asked her to show her the stars, she’d find a way to steal the whole night sky for her.

“Okay,” Azzi confirms as she slips into her sneakers, “I should be there in a couple of minutes.”

“You’re actually coming,” Paige’s voice is slightly dazed. 

There’s a pang in Azzi’s chest at the slight surprise in her best friend’s tone. It’s a testament to how much has changed between them. Those unspoken promises of we’ll always be there for each other that had been the solid foundation of their relationship seem to be clouded by fears of are we still the same us? It hits her then the depth of the abyss between them. They’re stranded on opposite sides of it and Azzi just hopes they still have enough strength to build a bridge over it and get to each other again. 

“Do you still want me to come?” she asks timidly as she steps out into the wintry Storrs air. It’s freezing cold but Azzi thinks it’s nothing compared to the way she knows her heart will ice over if Paige says no. 

That familiar silence lingers between them as Azzi waits for Paige to say something. It feels like that’s all she’s done for the past two weeks. Waited. She’d waited for the answers to her list of ever-growing questions as Paige had pulled further and further away from her. She’d waited to catch her best friend’s avoidant eyes so she could try and decipher the storm brewing in them. She’d waited, arms outstretched, for her Paige to come back to her. But she thinks that if Paige says no now, if Paige decides to keep building this wretched wall between them instead of helping Azzi tear it down, then she won’t wait again. Because the weight of waiting is just too much and there’s only so much longer that Azzi can hold on. 

“Evina said to go home,” Paige’s voice trembles when she finally speaks, “she said to go home and all I could think of- was you.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers. 

“Azzi,” and that same desperation from before echoes in Paige’s tone, “please come take me home.”

[lvnleah]

hi i have a request for kyra!☺️

R and kyra have been together for a year now, (r is not a footballer or famous) but the girls never met her,never seen her or even seen a photo or her so they all make fun of her for having “an imaginary girlfriend” and joke around with her.

the reason why they never met her is cause r is very shy ,awkward and get very nervous and uncomfortable around new and a lot of people. One day though kyra ends up convincing her and takes her with her to meet the girls. They all very much shocked cause they really thought kyra was lying about the gf lol🤣, but then they get even more shocked when they see a side of kyra that they never saw. Her being so lovely,kind and soft with r who a first is a little bit overwhelmed but then ends up relaxing and enjoying the night. the can see how much kyra and r love each other’s and they’re happy for them

actually real | kyra cooney-cross.

“I swear, she’s real.” Kyra groaned as her teammates teased her over you. 

“Sure she is,” Katie smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Sure you have a girlfriend, and she’s totally not just some made-up person you tell us about so we don’t think you’re lonely.”

Kyra rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she leaned forward. “I do have a girlfriend, and you lot are just mad you haven’t met her yet.”

“I mean, can you blame us?” Steph piped up, grinning. “You’ve been with her for what, a year? And not one of us has even seen a picture? C’mon, Ky, you’ve got to admit, it’s a little suspicious.”

Beth let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my god, is it because she’s actually famous, and she doesn’t want to be seen with you?”

More laughter followed, and Kyra groaned, rubbing her hands down her face. “She’s not famous. She’s just—” She hesitated, not wanting to overshare about you. “She’s shy. And she doesn’t like big groups. It’s not that weird.”

Lotte smirked, tilting her head. “Right. So, what you’re saying is your girlfriend, who nobody has ever met, doesn’t come around because she’s conveniently ‘shy’?”

Caitlin leaned into Katie, whispering just loud enough for Kyra to hear, “It’s getting a bit sad at this point, isn’t it?”

The team erupted into laughter again, and Kyra groaned.

They had been at this for months. Every time she talked about you, even just little things, like how you made her tea in the mornings or how you always sent her the sweetest texts before a game the teasing would start.

But she couldn’t even be mad at them. They didn’t mean anything by it. They just didn’t understand.

Because you were real.

And Kyra adored you.

But you also happened to be incredibly anxious and extremely uncomfortable around big groups of new people, which made introducing you to her team a little difficult.

And she respected that. She never wanted to push you into something you weren’t ready for.

But still.

She really wanted her teammates to know that she wasn’t just making you up.

It took a while, but eventually, she convinced you after coming home that evening. 

It wasn’t easy. There had been a lot of anxious rambling on your part, a lot of reassurance on hers, but finally, finally, you had agreed to come to the team’s bonding night.

Kyra practically threw herself onto the couch beside you, draping herself over your lap dramatically as she let out an exaggerated groan.

“Baby, please please please come to my team bonding night!” she whined, her voice filled with desperation.

You sighed, setting your phone down as you glanced down at her. “Kyra…”

She lifted her head just enough to meet your gaze, giving you her best pout. “They think I’m making you up, babe. Making you up.” She groaned again, “Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

You bit your lip, not wanting to smile, but she was making it really difficult not to.

“Ky, you know I don’t like big groups,” you murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “It’s not that I don’t want to meet them, I just—”

“I know,” she said softly, her teasing tone disappearing for a moment. She sat up slightly, resting her weight on her elbow as she reached for your hand. “And I would never make you do something you’re uncomfortable with. But I promise you, they’re great. And they’re going to love you.”

You exhaled, squeezing her hand. “I just… what if I get too overwhelmed?”

“Then we leave,” she said without hesitation. “No questions asked. You just give me the word, and we’re out of there.”

Your lips pressed together, anxiety still bubbling in your chest. You didn’t like meeting new people. You weren’t even sure how you met Kyra because your anxiety ruled your life. Literally. 

Kyra shifted closer, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll be with you the whole time. I won’t let go of your hand. You don’t even have to talk much. Just sit with me, let me hold you, and let them see that you do exist.”

That pulled a small laugh from you, and Kyra grinned.

“Just think about it,” she murmured, “I want them to see the person who makes me happiest. But if it’s too much, you say the word, and we’ll stay home, order takeout, and make fun of their Instagram stories instead.”

You exhaled slowly, your nerves still present but softened by her unwavering support.

“…Okay,” you whispered.

Kyra’s eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

She grinned, pressing a flurry of quick kisses to your face, making you giggle. “You’re the best, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “You owe me for this.”

“Anything you want, baby,” she said easily, wrapping her arms around you. “Anything at all.”

That conversation was how you found yourself sitting in Kyra’s car, anxiously twisting the hem of your sweater between your fingers as she drove toward the restaurant.

“I can’t do this,” you mumbled, barely above a whisper.

Kyra glanced over, reaching for your hand. “Yes, you can,” she said softly, squeezing it. “And we’ll leave the second you want to. No questions asked.”

You exhaled shakily, squeezing her hand in return.

“I’ll be right next to you the whole time,” she promised, her voice as gentle as ever. “You don’t even have to talk much.”

You let out a nervous laugh, but it wasn’t untrue.

“I love you, okay?” she murmured, bringing your hand up to press a soft kiss against your knuckles.

You nodded, trying to take comfort in the fact that, no matter how overwhelming this night might feel, at least you had her.

The second you walked into the restaurant, the room went silent. You could feel their eyes on you immediately, and it took everything in you not to shrink into Kyra’s side or run straight out.

But Kyra didn’t hesitate. She slipped her arm around your waist, keeping you close in a way that felt both protective and reassuring.

Steph was the first to break the silence. “No. Fucking. Way.”

Leah blinked, looking genuinely taken aback. “You actually have a girlfriend?”

Caitlin nudged Katie. “We owe her an apology.”

Kyra rolled her eyes but grinned nonetheless, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before looking at her teammates. “Told you so.”

Beth leaned forward on the table, squinting at you. “Are we sure she’s real?” she asked playfully. “Like, she’s not just some paid actress you hired for the night?”

You let out a nervous laugh, but Kyra immediately squeezed your hand. “You lot better behave,” she warned, though the fondness in her voice softened the words.

The team, to their credit, didn’t push too hard. They were obviously curious, but they kept things light, introducing themselves in a way that wasn’t overwhelming.

Kyra helped you settle into your seat, keeping her hand on your knee, rubbing soothing circles against your skin whenever she noticed you getting fidgety. As the night went on, you slowly started to relax.

What surprised the team the most wasn’t you, though.

It was Kyra.

They had never seen her like this.

They knew her as competitive, fiery, always up for a laugh or prank but with you, she was soft.

She was attentive, making sure you always had what you needed. She never let go of your hand unless you needed it free, and even then, she’d find another way to keep contact. Whether it was her knee brushing against yours or her arm resting behind you on the booth or her foot lightly tapping against your ankle under the table, she was always touching you. 

She was patient, whispering little reassurances to you whenever she noticed you getting overwhelmed. And she was so in love with you.

It was obvious in the way she looked at you, in the way she softened every time you spoke, in the way she seemed completely and utterly focused on making sure you were comfortable.

“Okay, I get it now,” Katie muttered to Caitlin at one point. “She’s whipped.”

Caitlin grinned. “Properly in love, is she feeling okay?”

Kyra just smiled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek before whispering, “You okay, love?”

You nodded, feeling more at ease than you had in a long time. Because yes, the night had been scary at first but it had also been filled with laughter, gentle reassurances, and the unwavering presence of the girl you loved.

And by the end of it, when Kyra helped you into your jacket and kissed the top of your head, “Proud of you, imaginary girlfriend.”

[jjscrybaby]

could you do kook!reader spoiling jj? like, they're surprisingly really good friends and she's always getting stuff that she thinks he might need or want, like he comes over and she's doing skin care and she'll do his, or bringing him lunch, even buying him rings or surf supplies and everytime he gets all choked up and red because she's so sweet to him, just wanting to make him happy, and all his friends tease him for it calling her his sugar mommy and everything (all cutesy, sfw ^^)

jj maybank x sweetheart!reader | fluff | (kook!reader, both are massive simps honestly, reader spending too much money on jj, lotta fluff!)

finally getting to my requests! hope you enjoy baby🩷 after writing this i’ve realised i have an obsession with jj and a sweetheart kook so if anyone has any requests for them i’m allll ears!!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One thing about JJ was that he wasn’t used to being spoiled. That made sense, with the way he’d grown up and the people he was friends with. The Pogues all adored each other, but they showed their love with banter and loyalty not with gifts and affection. That was probably the reason he turned into a teenage girl every time you were around, because you always had something for him.

It was a known fact that you had a crush on him, ever since Sarah had started dating John B and dragged you along with her you’d thought JJ was cute. At first, he wasn’t a huge fan of you, you were a Kook and in his eyes that made you the enemy. It only took a few days for that novelty to wear off, once he realised there wasn’t a cruel bone in your body.

It was after a couple months of friendship that the never-ending string of affection began. Showing up to his work with his favourite sandwich in a paper bag — a heart drawn on like you were his mother sending him to kindergarten — buying him a new board after he was complaining about how old his was getting, realising there was hardly any body wash left in the bathroom so ordering three bottles for next day delivery. He’d blush and stammer over his words every single time, you just had that effect on him and he couldn’t work out why.

“There she is, JJ’s sugar mama,” John B teased as you came skipping into the Chateau with a shopping bag in hand; nothing out of the ordinary.

“Shut up,” JJ grumbled, shooting him a look before turning to you. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi, guys,” you beamed, sitting down on the couch beside the blonde. Your knee was bouncing excitedly, just waiting for one of them to ask you what you’d brought.

“What’s in the bag?” John B finally asked, a smirk on his face.

You instantly opened it up, grabbing a shirt from the top to throw his way. You didn’t want him to feel left out, although Sarah spent enough money on him that you didn’t feel quite so guilty for showing up with presents for JJ and nothing for John B.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” John B laughed, catching it with ease. He held it up, grinning at the shirt. You imagined he was similar to JJ in the sense that he didn’t get a lot growing up, although you always smiled in the same way whenever you bought yourself a cute outfit.

“It’s the same colour as your eyes!” You exclaimed, a cheesy smile on your face. You liked treating your friends, it was probably the thing that brought you the most happiness.

“Well, I appreciate it, thanks kid,” John B smiled, standing up to give you a pat on the shoulder. “I’m guessing everything else in there is for Mr Maybank here.”

JJ’s cheeks instantly lit up, looking away to try and cover it before his friend could make fun of him. John B stifled a laugh as you nodded sheepishly. You knew that they’d all worked out how you felt about JJ, you’d always drunkenly told John B and Sarah that you wanted to have his babies so that probably gave it away.

“I’m gonna go try this on,” John B decided, ruffling your hair before disappearing inside the Chateau. JJ took a moment to thank God for that, he hated reacting like an idiot in front of the others.

“You know, us inviting you ‘round doesn’t mean you have to bring presents,” JJ stated, scratching his chin awkwardly.

“I know,” you shrugged. “But I was at the mall, and there was so much cute stuff! I got this skirt, too.” You tugged on the end of your baby pink skirt and he let out a soft laugh.

“Go on then, show me what you got,” he sighed, watching as you squealed and started to empty the shopping bag.

There were at least six new shirts in there, a pair of cargo shorts because he’d ripped his at a kegger, some new rings just because and a sweatshirt he himself had been saving up for. He had the same reaction as always, a lump in his throat as he wondered what he’d done in his past life to deserve such kindness and a blush coating his cheeks as you rambled on about how good you thought he’d look in the shirts.

“Do you like them?” You asked softly, after he’d been silent for longer than usual. Normally, he’d stutter out a thank you, kiss your temple and flip off the Pogues as they laughed at him.

“I— yeah, of course I do, but I don’t know if I want you to keep buyin’ me stuff,” JJ said, running a hand over his face.

He could see the way your smile dropped, a look of confusion and hurt in your eyes. “Why?” You asked quietly.

“Because, babe, I— I can’t return the favour, y’know? I don’t have enough money to go ‘round buying you a bunch of stuff, as much as I’d love to. Makes me feel guilty,” he explained, placing his hand on your arm to show he wasn’t mad.

The hurt faded from your face and instead you gave him a soft smile, one reserved for him. “I don’t want you to buy me stuff, I don’t care about that. I like getting you stuff. Besides, it’s not like you don’t do anything for me.”

“What do I do for you?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to think.

“Lots of stuff! You make my coffees when I stay over, and you give me your extra fries. You scare away the boys at parties and you always say I look pretty,” you listed, this time a blush coated your cheeks.

He’d never really thought about it like that, like he was actually doing something for you. In his mind, he knew you liked a coffee so he’d make you one before waking you. He knew the Wreck’s fries were your favourite, that was a given from the way you’d scoff them down, so when you ran out he didn’t mind sharing. The scaring away boys was more for him, he didn’t want any of them swooping you off your feet whilst he was trying to work out how to do that himself. And calling you pretty? Well, you were.

JJ didn’t say anything, an idea came to mind. He reached behind him, undoing the shark tooth necklace he’d been wearing ever since he could remember. You watched him in confusion as he moved your hair out of the way and did it up, grinning as it rested just above your cleavage.

“I know it ain’t designer or anything, and it probably doesn’t got with any of your outfits, but it’s my favourite—” he cut himself off, watching as tears ran down your cheeks. You threw your arms around him and he was quick to wrap his around your waist, letting out a chuckle. “It was, like, a few dollars. No need for the tears, baby.”

“I love it,” you sniffled into his shoulder.

He felt himself pressing a kiss to your cheek, hand stroking over your back. Maybe one day that kiss would be on your lips, and instead of a stupid necklace he’d be buying you a damn ring. Not today though, today he was content with just knowing you’d be wearing a piece of him.

[ov6rheated]

visitors

dom!billie x fem!reader

summary: billie can’t resist you even when she should.

warnings: smut, fluff (?), small mommy kink, use of strap-on

word count: 1387

maggie had invited you two over for dinner. she missed her billie so much, and she even wanted the two of you to stay the night.

it was a saturday night, and you and billie had just arrived with luggage.

“it’s only for a night. why so much luggage?” maggie asks, immediately helping.

billie and you chuckled once she took the luggage. “mom, we’re just prepared,” she said.

more than half of the luggage wasn’t even yours. you packed enough for yourself, knowing you wouldn’t need much. you also wondered why she packed so much and what she packed. you didn’t bother asking, not being so worried about it, but now you see that she overpacked too much.

you two walked into the guest room and settle down before going back into the kitchen with maggie. she noticed that the two of you won’t let go of each other, and no one had hugged her yet.

“guys, i don’t bite. where’s my hug?” she giggled before breaking the two of you apart and hugging the each of you.

billie and you helped maggie cook, but she wouldn’t get her hands off of you. it seemed like only you were helping, and she was too busy kissing your neck. every time you were over the stove, she came behind you and kissed behind your ear, to your neck, then shoulder. you couldn’t deny that you loved it but, gosh.

“billie… chill out,” you plead softly, not loud enough for maggie to hear.

she ignored your protest, and started sneaking her hand under your leggings. you move her hand and move away, not wanting to do too much in front of her mother.

you look back at her as you cook with maggie, seeing her staring at you like you were her prey. it made you nervous, and it felt like your stomach was turning.

eventually, dinner was ready. patrick even joined the three of you for dinner after coming home. her parents questioned you about work and how billie was treating you (in a playful way).

during dinner you felt like billie’s eyes were piercing into your body as she stared at you. she ended up reaching over to grab your thigh. she scooted closer, and she began moving her hand up abnormally high.

she reached your heat, trying to brush her middle finger over you clit through your leggings. you keep speaking, closing your legs to try to stop her.

once she finally wiggled her way through, she had the slightest contact with your clit, you slightly jolted forward. you grab her hand, moving it away from you. it would be so embarrassing to make a scene in front of her parents all because she was horny.

for the rest of dinner, you two kept up this fight, and you were starting to get turned on too. you just couldn’t fold that easily. you thought you’d have to wait until you go home to get rid of the tension, but she thought otherwise

once dinner was over, everyone said their goodnights and head to their rooms. once you and billie reach the guest room, you close and lock the door.

“what the fuck was that?” you ask, obviously frustrated.

“oh don’t act like you don’t like it, baby,” she says and steps closer before continuing, “i could feel how wet you were getting.”

you roll your eyes, not denying what she said. “well, in front of your parents is wild, billie. you couldn’t wait a few more minutes?” you ask.

“god, fuck no, y/n. look at you.” she steps towards you again, closing the space between you.

it was so obvious how turned on she made you, even while hiding it. you look into her eyes, and see the desire and lust.

“well- uh- maggie was right about you over packing. what the fuck did you even bring?” you ask.

you try to change the subject, trying to get rid of the tension. it felt so wrong to try to have sex under her parents’ roof.

“you’ll see soon, angel,” she says as her hand grips your jaw.

billie leaned forward, your lips only being inches apart. she could see that you wanted this as much as she did, but you were being stubborn.

“billie, no. we aren’t doing this. we’re your parents visitors for the night, and these walls seem pretty thin.” you say, trying to move away from her, but billie’s grip was just too strong.

“you can be quiet, hm? right baby?” her voice became soft, it hypnotizing you. she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

she tilts her head, still waiting for an answer. you try think about it and decided. why not?

“okay, billie. but not too much noise,” you say. she smiled softly before releasing your chin and turning around to one of the suitcases.

you watch her, already figuring out what it is. she brought every sex toy you two owned. you scoff and chuckle to yourself, watching her dig through the bag.

“seriously billie?” she even chuckled as well, still grabbing things.

“shut up and strip, mama. get comfortable,” she said as she started to undress too.

you start peeling your clothes off, deciding to tease her and keep your bra and thong on. you lay back on the bed and keep watching her, seeing which dildo she chooses.

once she finishes, she walks over to you, wearing a sports bra and boxers. the dildo bobs in between her legs on the strap-on, and she decided to choose the longest and thickest one, knowing how you react to that. you became nervous and stared at it.

“billie… i don’t know.” she sees your nervousness and pecks your lips before effortlessly lifting you up.

“it’s okay, baby. i got you,” she says softly once she sits on a chair in the guest room.

she sees that your still wearing your thong, giving you a dangerous look because she knows what you’re doing. you fix your actions almost immediately, pulling them off. her hands stayed on your hips and she lowered you on her cock.

you hissed from how thick and long it was. your nails dug into her shoulders as you adjusted to the size. “remember to breathe mama. i got you.”

you take a deep breath and start moving your hips. you bite your lip to hide your moans, not wanting to be too loud.

you wanted to make her feel good too, but it seemed like she was just watching you. “you wanna make me feel good, angel?” you nodded.

“then move,” she says, the strap brushing against her clit nicely. she was encouraging you to go faster, her hands still on your hips.

you start going faster, your eyes rolling back as you kept going. you reached behind you to unclasp your bra, letting your breasts free. she palmed one of them, wanting your nipples in her mouth.

she couldn’t even focus on that though. the strap brushing against her made her lose control, her leg muscles starting to tighten.

you were still riding, the sound of your pussy echoing in the room. once your climax approached, you started clamping down on her dildo. she felt it, knowing you were close.

“you close, mama? me too.” her eyes were rolling back too and it was the prettiest sight to see.

“can we cum together, mommy?” billie groaned when you called her that, getting closer and closer. she nodded quickly at your question.

it was like you counted down in your head whenever the two of you came. you both shuddered at the same time as it came over you. your walls spasmed around her fake dick, and she was able to feel it.

once you both came down from your high, you collapsed on top of her, trying to catch your breath.

“you did so good, princess. my sweet girl~” she whispered, running her fingers through your hair.

you lift your head to look in her eyes and peck her lips before getting up to get the both of you some damp towels. you clean yourselves up before heading to bed.

“i guess it was worth being quiet after all, huh?” she asks once you lay in bed.

“yeah, i guess,” you say, chuckling.

[jedi-bird]

So, I have lived in a house where we had to hide any evidence that we lived there, a house where we hid certain things, and a house currently where I value functionality over looks. Guess which one makes me happiest and actually makes my life easier?

I also used to be a custodian (fancy word for janitor but also meant I did a lot more than clean) at a very big theme park, and the rules there were basically "people cannot know we clean". And honestly, that one I agreed with. People are stupid at theme parks. They seem to forget common sense a lot and are only focused on fun and do the weirdest shit, so cleaning up around them always made me feel like a ninja who was challenged with being faster than they were.

Trash cans were hidden in plain sight. They were enclosed in decorative cases but were also placed so you never really had to go more than 20 to 30 feet to find one. And recycling cans were always next to them. We wiped them down constantly and should swap them out occasionally to fully scrub them out (the liners were switched out much more often and fully scrubbed and cleaned). The recycling was sorted out in the back by us, wearing puncture proof gloves up to our elbows, long plastic aprons, and face shields. I laugh every time Hell's Kitchen uses recycling day as a punishment because that was a daily chore for me and I loved it. And yes, half our recycling wasn't meant to go in those cans which is why we had to do it.

Cleaning supplies are kept behind the scenes away from the public. We would bring out what we needed as needed except for heavy equipment or things with cords unless an area was closed off. Why? Because the number of times I would be trying to clean things like vomit of the floors, while other workers were blocking it off, only to have people come barging in to stand right in the mess to ask me (the one wearing multiple gloves and wiping up what was essentially a biohazard) to take their picture. Yeah. I didn't get paid enough for that.

Restrooms were cleaned in plain sight without closing them, so you learned to just quietly fit in and not make eye contact (unless you felt like a showdown, which honestly was fun with certain people). You learned to dart quickly when a stall opened and block it off with the cart. You learned to have eyes in the back of your head so that you could stop people from picking things up off your cart. We were taught the safest ways to mop (one hand always on the top of the handle as a cap, because it was better to punch someone accidentally then to jam a wooden stake in their eye).

Most people never noticed us unless we stopped doing our jobs. So please thank you janitors because you'd be miserable without them.

That being said, at home I operate very differently. There is a small trash can in every room. Sometimes two. Each one of open and next to where my partner works or sits (I keep one next to me when I craft a well but that one moves around a bit). I wish I had room for a bigger one in the bathroom, but I don't so I just have to change it more often.

Cleaning supplies get stored by use. Daily items like paper towels, sanitizing wipes, and other frequently used items (depends on the room) are kept close at hand. In the bathroom, that's on a narrow shelf along the wall; kitchen is between the stove and the table in front of a cabinet; living room next to the front door. Supplies for deep cleaning are kept slightly out of sight. Not because I don't want people to know we live here but for safety reasons. Being raised by my grandparents, I'm very big on keeping walkways clear and surfaces to steady yourself with. So those are organized into carrying baskets by type of clean up and kept in the upstairs cabinet for the upstairs and on a shelf at the back of the kitchen for downstairs. Brooms and mops are hung on hooks from the walls behind the back door downstairs and in the cabinet upstairs (yes, I have double the supplies, because I'm more likely to clean if I don't have to keep going back and forth for things). There is a recycling can on each floor because it's easier and I refuse to sort trash here.

There is a sort of table near the front door for partner's things because they need them to be visible, and all their snacks and frequently used items are organized by use in open shelving. Our house in messy and that's okay; I'm in the process of making it an organized mess that we both can live with. But yeah, you know we live here and keep it functional. It's not revolutionary to keep trash cans in the open or bowls on tables for keys or tables by doors. It's just one person's version of normal and helpful. Honesty, just play around with storage ideas and see what works best for you in terms of use and happiness (and don't think you need to spend a lot of money, most of my things are repurposed in the beginning while I test things and sometimes never change).

On one hand, it's great to see people learn how to unfuck their living spaces. On the other hand, that stuff like "frequently used articles should be stored near where they're used" and "trash receptacles should be placed near activities that generate trash" are being received as radical ideas points to a serious knowledge transmission problem.

[robertsfloyd]

dove

it was so wrong. he was your boss. but he was so hot. he was so sweet. he was everything you wanted and more.

mechanic!danny x reader

cw: smut, oral (Danny's nose 😵‍💫), p in v

You watched him from your desk, lip pulled between your teeth. it was unfair how perfect he looked as he worked on cars, sweaty and greasy.

he wasn't the only person in the garage, wasn't the only person looking good while sweaty and covered in grease. but he was the only one you were looking at.

his tattoos looked so pretty, even obscured by grease. you wanted to lick it off, reveal the skin beneath.

Daniel looked up, catching your gaze through the window between you. he sat back on his knees and pushed his hair back from his forehead. "You need something, dove?" you heard him call through the open office door.

shaking your head, you returned to your computer, keys clicking as you typed away. when you looked at your document, it was a jumble of letters.

you quickly backspaced before anybody could walk behind you, see what you were doing.

even as you tried to do your work, tried to fill out invoices and answer emails, your eyes kept moving back to daniel. even when he was hidden from view, just his legs sticking out from beneath the car, you kept looking at him.

it was a miracle nobody caught you watching him.

until they did.

"what're you doing?" max asked as he moved behind your desk, holding the back of your chair.

your eyes quickly moved back to your computer screen, away from daniel. "nothing," you said quickly. too quickly.

max hummed. shit, he didn't believe you. why didn't he believe you? you weren't being that obvious, were you?

"sure, sure," he mumbled and messed up your hair. he leaned in close and you held your breath. "he goes for lunch in ten minutes," he said and left you to it.

your head turned towards max as he walked out of the office. he whistled as he walked into the garage, catching daniels attention. daniel looked up at max, but you couldn't hear what they were saying to each other.

but then daniel looked at you.

your cheeks were hot as you looked away from him, returned your attention back to your computer.

ten minutes later, daniel walked into the office. "hey, dove," he said as he walked past you, his smile so bright and pretty. that was the smile he gave everybody.

he walked past you, into the little kitchen area you had them kit out when you first got there. it wasn't much, a table that could only fit three people, a small fridge, a kettle and a sink. a few cups were stacked up, your wizard frog mug, maxs mug covered in flags, and Daniels 'I fix cars' mug.

he strode over to the fridge you had decorated in magnets and pulled it open. grabbing his sandwich, he closed the fridge and walked out of the kitchen.

daniel strode past you. his hand met the top of your head, ruffling your hair as he passed. it wasn't like when Max did it. instead of batting his hand away, you wanted more.

***

"what've we got today, dove?"

daniel's hand was on the back of your chair. you glanced up at him before turning your attention back to your computer.

max joined you. like daniel, his hand fell onto the back of your chair. as soon as it did, daniel let his hand migrate to your shoulder.

your breath caught in your throat.

"we have that dented skoda coming in this morning and then that sweet old couple coming in to pick up their kia this afternoon." your voice squeezed, and it was so damn embarrassing.

you listed off everything else going on for the day. the deliveries set to arrive, the people coming in. all the while, daniel kept his hand on your shoulder.

"right," max said as he moved away from you. he jumped his bag in the corner of the office and strode into the main garage.

daniel squeezed your shoulder. "thank you, dove," he mumbled and grinned at you.

shit, you loved his grin.

"we're gonna order lunch today, you in?" he asked and you nodded your head.

you loved it when you ordered in. you, daniel and max sat around that tiny table, trying not to knock your knees together as music played from daniels phone.

he hung his jacket up by the door and got to work.

you watched him. he had to know he was this pretty, right? he couldn't be in the dark about it, could he?

when he caught your eye, he grinned, but you looked away.

he happened several times throughout the morning. you meeting his eye, him grinning at you. when he winked, you could have slipped from your chair, melted into a puddle on the floor.

lunch. you ordered in, three of you getting the same thing each time. you squeezed around the tiny table, daniel between you and max. you had longsince given up trying to stop your knees from touching, and instead relaxed.

daniels hand touched your leg. your eyes went wide and you glanced at him. but he was still happily eating, as if his fingers weren't on your thigh.

fuck, you liked it.

once you had all finished, daniel threw away the rubbish. he and max returned to the garage. you sat there for a minute, breath shuddering.

daniels hand on your thigh. it wasn't much, but it was something. and it was something you loved.

he was your boss, you shouldn't love it. but you did, and you wanted more.

you returned to your desk and checked through the emails. you got the paperwork ready for when the sweet old couple came to pick up their kia.

the afternoon went by normally. daniel stared at you, you stared at him.

eventually, max went home. he was always first home. last person to arrive, first person to leave. but he was good at his job, so you and daniel didn't mind.

that left you and daniel on your own.

he used a rag to wipe the grease from his hands and walked into the office.

"hey, dove," he said as he dropped the dirty rag on top of the filing cabinet.

you spun in your chair, facing him. swallowing, you looked at him, unashamed in the way you drank him in. you wanted to touch him, wanted to touch his tattoos.

he stepped closer to you, loomed over you. his hand met the top of your chair and you sank down, getting a better look at him.

"I know you've been looking at me, dove," he said, stepping between your legs. "I know how you feel about me."

you swallowed.

his hand touched your cheek, thumb moved across your cheekbone. you caught his wrist, holding him there as you looked up at him. unable to say anything.

"c'mon, dove. tell me what's going through your head."

your breath shook, brain short circuiting. "I-" your lips quivered. "I want you."

he leaned in and kissed you. your head hit the seat beside you, hand moving from his wrist to hold his neck.

he let go of your chair and held your hips. never breaking the kiss, he got down onto his knees and pulled you closer, so you were leaning over him.

"fuck, I've wanted to do that for so long," he grunted as he pulled away, hands squeezing your hips.

he quickly returned his lips to your skin, kissing down your neck, towards your shirt. you whined as you tugged at his hair, legs wrapping around him.

"dove," he whimpered, your legs squeezing him.

"danny," you said through a gasp, pulling at his shirt. he pulled away from your enough to take his shirt off, revealing more of him to you. more of his skin. more of his tattoos.

you didn't hesitate to touch him, to let your fingers roam his skin. you touched all of him, whatever you could get your hands on.

you didn't stop him as he popped the buttons on your blouse. "c'mon dove," he whispered. you moved your arms away from him, letting him pulled your blouse from your body.

he pulled your tights from your legs.

his hands were immediately on your thighs. "danny," you whispered as his lips touched your thigh, teeth sinking into your flesh. not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel it.

you loved it.

he suddenly licked a stripe up your under. a gasp left your lips, his nose bumped against your clothed clit, and you released a moan.

"can I take these off, dove?"

you nodded your head desperately, fingers finding their way to his hair. "please," you cried, desperate for more of him. more of his touch.

he pulled your underwear down your legs. immediately, he dove in, tongue moving through your folds as he nose bumped your clit.

that fucking nose. it had been the subject of many of your dreams. dreams of sitting on his face and riding his nose until you came, until his tongue moved through you to clean you up.

but that wasn't a job for this evening. that could come later.

"fuck, dove," he grunted and the sound went through you. he gripped you, pulled you to the edge of your chair to utterly devour you.

you gripped his hair, wrapped your legs around him. he hummed and you cried out. fuck, you never wanted it to end.

daniel freed himself from your grip. "I want to fuck you, dove," he whispered, hands reaching up to push your hair away from your face.

taking a brave step, you stood from your seat. leaning over the desk, you pulled up your skirt.

daniel stood up straight. he swallowed, his mouth dry as he touched you, ran his fingers through your wet folds. if he kept that up, you'd cum in no time.

the blunt head of his cock tapped your clit. you whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut. his thumb rubbed over your hip as he pushed inside of you.

you heard his belt clink, heard his zipper go down. "I've wanted this for so long, dove," he whispered.

but, nothing. "one second, dove," he whispered. he pulled a condom from his wallet and rolled it onto his cock. "there."

"danny," you cried, not quite sounding like a moan.

"I've got you, dove," he whispered, leaning over you to press a kiss to your shoulder.

you tipped your head back, desperate to kiss him. "You can move," you whispered, eyes still shut.

daniel moved, slowly at first. his cock split you open, sure, but he was still gentle. still stroking over your hip, still leaning over you to kiss your shoulder.

he held you as he fucked you, desk rocking beneath you. you held onto the edge of it, anything to ground yourself. "my good dove," he whispered through a grunt, hand travelling to your hair.

he tugged on it. a moan left your lips as you threw your head back, responding to his tugs.

fuck, you were squeezing him so tight, clenching down around him like you wanted to milk him dry.

he moaned your name, his own head thrown back. he gripped your hips, letting go of your hair, he pulled you towards him to meet his thrusts. "fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned out, grip falling from the desk. "danny, danny danny!"

it was building, sudden and fast. Daniel kept with what he was doing. he kept up his pace, the intensity of his thrusts. anything you feel you cum around him.

and you did. your legs shook as you came, crying out. "Holy fuck," Daniel whispered, his pace slowing.

he was so damn close, ready to spill inside of his condom. you squeezed him tighter, walls clamping down around him until he came inside of his condom.

he pulled out, rolled off the condom and shoved himself back inside of his pants. grabbing you, he sat in your chair and pulled you onto his lap.

you kissed him immediately, hands on his shoulders. "that was-"

"Incredible, I know," daniel answered for you.

you nodded, forehead against his. "next time, can we make sure the garage door is shut?"

daniels eyes went wide as he looked towards the garage door. sure enough, it was open. "fuck," he hissed, his grip growing tighter on you.

fuck indeed