#after like A YEAR AND A HALF of slow burn development }

[wordsarelife]

—so it goes

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: you’ve always thought mattheo riddle was infuriating, until suddenly everything between you changes. between various almost kisses, whispered confessions, and years of tension finally snapping, you realize he’s always wanted you. but falling for him? that was never part of your plan, but now, you’re his to keep and his to lose.

warnings: language, just a little suggestive, height difference mentioned, tension, pining, slow-burn, a little idiots in love ad very mid writing lol

note: this came to me very spontaneously and because i thought to myself that i had yet to write a fic inspired by 'so it goes' so here it is. this fic has basically no storyline so idk what i have been yapping to make it to 5.4k words lmaooo.

"i'm gonna bash his fucking head in" you stormed into the slytherin common room.

pansy, draped across one of the dark leather couches, lazily moved her head to look at you, not a hint of surprise on her face.

no, she knew all too well, who you were talking about.

"what's he done now?" she asked, not out of curiosity, but boredom. like you threatening mattheo riddle’s life was just another tuesday. which it was, really.

mattheo and you had never gotten along, despite being part of the same friend group and basically growing up beside each other.

maybe that was the problem after all.

you threw your bag to the floor so hard it almost bounced back into your hands. “he had the audacity to open his stupid mouth. that’s what he did.”

theo snorted from the armchair by the fire, not looking up from his book. "shocking development. riddle speaks, and you consider murder."

you whirled on him, eyes wild. "he said i was predictable. can you believe that? me. predictable."

"well.." pansy muttered, trailing off.

"you do threaten his life a few times a week" theo added, helpfully.

you glared at both of them. "some friends you are" you muttered, crossing your arms and falling back onto the leather couch. you only missed pansy's leg by half an inch, as she pulled them to the side at the last minute. "whose side are you on?"

"neither" pansy stated without thought.

another glare from you.

"look, bella" theo drawled. you were used to that tone. he was trying to charm you, so you would forget about your anger toward the riddle boy. this time theo's charm would come to a halt. you swore it.

"this has been going on for literal years" he continued. "we've all witnessed it. it was fun for a while, i admit that. but... per l'amor di dio.. just get it over with, won't you?"

you narrowed your eyes at the boy. "get what over with?" you took a second to think, until your expression changed drastically, making theo forget what he was trying to say.

pansy moved her glance over to you, watching you in quiet suspicion.

"i would have never thought, you'd be the one to suggest it" you grinned, a proud smile on your face. "but this is brilliant, theo"

"i... what?" theo asked, but you left no time for answers.

"how do you reckon i should do it?" you asked as you went on. "i suppose magic is way too obvious. so maybe a knife.. or poison? that's the thing most women kill with, isn't it?"

"i didn't suggst that we should kill the insufferable bastard!" theo protested.

"oh" your smile died. "then what did you suggest?"

the moment was luckily interrupted by the arrival of enzo and blaise, who both had no interest in discussing anything related to mattheo (he was responsible for dozens of bruises on both their bodies from the previous quidditch practice), so the conversation quickly died out and the topic changed to the next charms essay all of you had to submit by the end of next week.

you didn't see mattheo for the rest of the day.

none of your friends had seen him for the most part of it, but that did not raise concern, as mattheo was known to disappear for hours on end.

none of you had the fraction of an idea about where he went.

and mattheo, the stupid idiot, enjoyed being a mystery to his friends way too much to lift the curtain and reveal his whereabouts.

it was half an hour past curfew, when you went to sneak into the kitchen. you had been rolling from side to side in bed for the past hour.

it wasn't that you weren't tired. quite the opposite actually. your mind was just too awake. but that was something a simple glass of warm milk could cure in an instant.

the drink was quickly fetched and it took less than five minutes for you to tiptoe back out into the hall, a mug of the warm liquid pressing against your hand and making your stomach flutter in anticipation for the warm and soothing taste.

but not now. you would save it until you were back in your warm bed, not while wandering the dimly lit corridors of hogwarts in what could only be described as a stretch rather than actual pyjamas.

a thin, oversized slytherin jumper hung off one shoulder. it was stolen, years ago, from theo during a drunken game of exploding snap and never returned. underneath, just a pair of dark green sleep shorts, the hem fraying slightly, riding up with every step. no socks, no bra, and a quiet shiver every time the cold stone kissed your bare feet.

merlin knew why you hadn't taken the time to slip into your shoes, or at least pull on some warm socks.

your mind wasn't the best at this time of day. and certainly not when it was as sleep-deprived as you felt.

the halls were dead silent, except for the soft echo of your bare feet on stone, and the occasional creak of the ancient castle shifting in its sleep. you clutched the mug tighter, nerves twitching just slightly.

"evening"

the voice was so sudden, you almost dropped the mug in your hand. milk splashed over the rim, warm against your knuckles as you swerved around, heart leaping up into your throat.

and there he was.

mattheo fucking riddle, casually leaned against the corridor arch like he hadn’t been missing all day. like he hadn’t carved himself into the back of your brain and left you simmering.

still dressed. he hadn't been back in his dorm all day, tie loose around his neck, white shirt stained at the cuff with something that looked like ink or blood, or maybe both. his blazer hung from one finger, slung over his shoulder like he owned the corridor, like he owned the night. like he’d been waiting.

you hated how calm he looked.

“you scared the shit out of me,” you snapped, readjusting your grip on the mug, milk still dripping from the rim.

"yeah, you look really frightened" he rolled his eyes, before his gaze wandered down your body.

you felt uncomfortable under his watch and you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the cold stone biting into your bare soles, but not nearly as sharply as his gaze.

"nice outfit" he noted with a smirk. "meeting someone special?"

"oh fuck off" you snarled, turning away from him and picking up your walk back to the dorm.

mattheo wasn't one to give up easily. he caught up to you quickly.

"you know, if you acted less like a whiny bitch, you could actually be kinda hot"

you halted in your step, turning to look at him.

mattheo's smirk deepened, satisfied that his words had caught your attention.

"and if you were less of a miserable asshole, maybe i could actually tolerate you" you thought for a second, before you added. "no, actually, that seems like too much for your brain to comprehend, so i fear both of us won't get what we so dearly wish for."

"god do you sometimes hear all the words that you're saying?"

you rolled your eyes and continued walking through the corridor. mattheo still followed. there was a distance between you. a distance you were glad he was keeping.

suddenly, mattheo's arm shot out, making you run straight into him.

"ma—" you had already opened your mouth, a loud scolding of his name pressing through, as another big gulp of the milk had slahed over the rim of your mug at your sudden forced stop.

mattheo pressed a hand to your mouth, shutting you up effectively. he pushed you against the wall behind your back, both of you disappearing behind a giant closet.

"what the fuck?" you whispered, just as mattheo had slowly moved his hand away from your mouth.

you were only inches apart. the mug in your hand being the only thing seperating the two of you.

"teacher" mattheo answered, his eyes darting down the hall behind him.

you didn't say anything for a few seconds. his head turned back to you.

he was so close. way too close for your liking. or... maybe he should come closer, move forward until his chest was touching yours, his hands in your—

woah.

you shook your head, quickly getting rid of those weird and unnerving thoughts that had clouded your mind.

you should’ve walked away. you should’ve sipped your stupid milk and gone back to bed.

instead, your gaze wandered back to his face. his curls were falling over his forehead like usually. an untamed mess of dark hair that awakened a deep anger in your gut. how could someone who couldn't even take care of his own hair properly ever dare to be as arrogant as mattheo riddle was?

his brown eyes looked down on you. they almost looked black in the dim light of the corridor. you shivered.

his face was clear, white, soft skin over perfectly sculpted features, a hint of soft freckles on his nose. and his mouth. his mouth was... bleeding?

"you're bleeding" you noted, unable to stop yourself. your eyes jumped to his lips and back to meet his gaze.

mattheo was just as caught off guard as yourself at the words. "yes" he muttered, not sure what else to say.

"why are you always bleeding?" you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

mattheo frowned at your words, a deeper emotion settling onto his face.

his eyes now jumped between yours and your mouth too. you were sure that there wasn't any blood on your lips, so you weren't sure what his thought process was.

suddenly, mattheo stepped impossibly closer.

his hand fell forward, clasping your wrist. the one one connected to the hand that wasn't holding the mug of warm milk, of course.

"what are you—?"

he didn't answer. mattheo just leaned forward, coming closer and closer. the blood on his mouth and the thing itself inching nearer and nearer.

oh god.

was he trying to? ew.

ew, ew, ew.

you couldn't kiss mattheo riddle in the middle of the night.

you couldn't kiss mattheo riddle in the middle of the night, in theo's old sweatshirt and shorts that you wore to sleep.

you couldn't kiss mattheo riddle in the middle of the night, in theo's old sweatshirt and shorts that you wore to sleep and a mug of steaming warm milk still in your right hand.

you couldn't kiss mattheo riddle. period.

you simply wouldn't.

so, in that moment, you did the only thing you could think of. something so unbelievably stupid you wouldn’t even remember it clearly later.

you let go of your beloved warm milk.

the mug shattered on the floor with a loud crack. milk splashed against both your bodies as mattheo jumped back from you.

“wha—” mattheo started, eyes darting between the milk soaking his robes and the broken shards on the floor, but before he could say another word, a sharp voice cut through the silence.

“detention, both of you.”

professor snape stood at the corridor’s end, arms crossed and glare sharper than any curse.

"sir—" you pressed the word out in surprise, looking awfully ashamed about the condition your house teacher had found the both of you in.

"twenty points from both of you and clean that up!" he directed further, until he swirled around, dark robes fluttering behind him as he walked away in the opposite direction.

when snape found students out of their beds, there was no big deal made out of the case, but no one dared to stay any longer after he had found them once. snape didn't have to walk students back to their dorms, as much was clear.

mattheo wordlessly took out his wand, mouthing a quick clean up hex under his breath.

both of your clothes were back to their previous state and the mug of warm milk was intact again too.

mattheo and you didn't look at each other as you silently walked back to the common room side by side. you didn't talk when you both split up in opposite directions to get to your dorms.

that night, a forgotten mug of cold milk sat on your bedside table, while you were in the bathroom, furiously scrubbing the skin of your left wrist. right where his touch had burned itself into your skin.

the next day was a never ending tirade of boring classes, whispers with your friends and the unnerving task of ignoring mattheo, while he tried everything to get under your skin.

"hope the milk was worth the detention from snape" he whispered during history of magic. he had to lean over draco to do so, who angrily swatted at mattheo's arm, trying to push the boy out of his space.

mattheo did not budge.

you stared forward pointedly, acting like you hadn't even heard him.

draco rolled his eyes, pushing against mattheo's arm once more. "do you see that she doesn't want to talk to you?"

mattheo's grin did not falter, his eyes flicking to you before settling back on draco.

"let her pretend all she wants," he said low enough for you to hear. "but merlin knows she’s just pissed because i was right."

you finally turned your head, voice cool and steady. "right about what?"

he shrugged, still smirking. "that you’re all talk and no backbone."

"what are you even talking about?" you snarled angrily beneath your breath, trying to keep quiet as to not make professor binns notice your conversation during his class.

"oh, come on, sweetheart" mattheo's smug smile only widened at your act of cluelessness. his gaze wandered over draco, before it landed back on you, a wink moving with his words. "don't act like i didn't see the fear in your eyes."

"shut up" you muttered, pulling your body back from him, an obvious physical reaction to his words.

mattheo nodded with a satisfied smile.

this was exactly what he had wanted. he leaned back in his own chair, freeing draco from his unwanted presence, before he blew you a quick kiss behind the blonde's head, who had turned to ask you what that weird conversation had been about.

that same evening, mattheo and you were standing in the dimly lit trophy room. both of you equipped with a rag and a bottle of polishing potion.

your wands had been confiscated by filch, before your detention had started and he had left you alone in the small room, that only seemed to shrink with mattheo's presence behind your back.

you wondered if his mind was as busy thinking about you as yours was tangled up in thoughts of him.

the work was rough, unnaturelly slow without the use of magic, and the room was silent while both of you scrubbed at trophies on opposite sides of each other.

then, when mattheo was finished with the trophy he had been working on, he didn't pick up the one standing right next to it, like he was supposed to, but moved across the room to stand beside you.

"could you stay on your side of this very small room?" you muttered, scratching off a particularly dark spot of dirt on the small trophy in your hand. "or is the concept of that too much for you to comprehend?"

"i'm doing just fine" mattheo smiled sarcastically. "thanks for your concern though"

"asshole" you muttered beneath your breath as you went to put the small trophy back in it's original place.

"brat" mattheo retorted almost immediately.

you send him an exasperated glance, before you stepped onto the ladder, that was propped up against the wall, to reach the higher shelves.

mattheo watched that action with a hint of concern, until his facial expression returned back to neutral, acting like he couldn't be bothered.

the silence in the room stretched on, as you reached for a medal hanging against the wall and began cleaning it while still standing on the the ladder.

this was awkward.

it was a mix of not knowing what to say (which was weird, because although you had never gotten along, you and mattheo had always something to say to each other) and a sharp undercurrent of something else. tension, maybe? or irritation?

then, mattheo broke the silence. in the worst way possible.

"ever wondered why we never became friends?"

you huffed, trying to ignore his words, but ultimately burning for his answer. "no, not really"

"well, i did" he muttered, reaching for a silver trophy. one of the less frequent ones in the room. "i mean, i'm glorious company, so it must be your fault"

"please" you shoke your head, moving on to the second medal. "like you're not an insufferable git"

mattheo laughed dryly at your remark. "come on, be honest," he continued. "you had your mind set on not liking me the minute your eyes first glanced my way"

"that is so far from true and you know it" the third medal was now being cleaned. "i was liking you, up until the moment you spilled pumpkin juice all over me."

"that was an honest mistake"

"maybe" you shrugged. "which i would've forgiven, if you hadn't immediately said what you said."

"what did i say?" mattheo wondered, seemingly not able to remember himself.

you glared at him, before you moved your gaze back to the task at hand and finally found the words to answer. "you said that i should better not start crying, because girls like me would have to rely on our smile being pretty enough to—"

"come far in life" mattheo finished. "i did say that, yeah" he muttered softly.

you swirled around, looking down at him in surprise. he actually sounded.. regretful?

you didn't have much time to think about that though. your fast motion on the ladder had caused the thing to start shaking, slipping away from the wall with increasing speed, as you lost your footing.

this was not going to end well.

mattheo reacted quickly. he dashed forward, stopping the ladder with his foot, before opening his arms.

you landed much less graceful than you had wanted, but at least not on the floor, but in mattheo's widespread and kind of muscular arms. he was looking down at you with a soft expression.

"i didn't mean it" he said, his words tying back to your conversation a few seconds ago.

you blinked up at him, chest rising and falling against his from the fall. his arms were still around you,one curling around your waist, while the other was steadying your legs, and he made no effort to let go. his scent, cologne and something darker, something inherently him, wrapped around you like smoke.

still, after a second, he let out a slow breath and carefully lowered you to the ground, his hands steady, lingering longer than necessary. one of them settled at your waist, the other brushing along your arm as if making sure you could stand.

but even once your feet touched the floor, neither of you moved away. you were still impossibly close. too close.

you swallowed. “you meant it when you said it.”

his gaze dropped to your lips for just a second. “maybe i was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“you did.” your voice came out a little breathier than you’d intended, but you didn’t back down. “congratulations. you always do.”

“hmm.” he stepped closer, barely noticeable, until your bodies were nearly touching again. his hold tightened just slightly around your waist, as if testing the boundary. "do you really hate me so much?"

the question stunned you. you stared up into his brown eyes. they were warm, like hot chocolate after a day spend in the snow outside. they weren't as close to black as you had thought only the night before.

maybe mattheo wasn't as close to the dark as you always thought.

"i don't know," you muttered, your gaze dropping to his lips only involuntarily. there was still a scrap on the side of his mouth, where it had been bleeding the day before.

you wondered who had had the pleasure of meeting mattheo's fist.

"sometimes" you said finally.

"and the other times?" mattheo muttered. he pulled you closer by the waist. maybe not even on purpose. you could feel his breath fan over your cheek.

"the other times.." you whispered, unable to finish the sentence.

mattheo moved his hand on your waist. his thumb slipped under the fabric of your blouse, it had moved out of your skirt during your fall. he brushed his finger over your skin tentatively.

you almost shivered. his touch felt so soft. so deserved, like something you'd been missing your entire life without ever realizing it. without ever knowing how good it was.

a warm feeling settled in your stomach as you drew in a breath.

mattheo didn't look smug about the obvious physical reaction you had to his simple touch. he looked so honest.

“the other times,” he said again, barely a whisper now. his gaze didn’t leave your face, didn’t leave your lips. “what are they, then?”

"i..." you wanted to reply something, anything, but his close proximity was making your mind spiral. never in your life had you been this... attracted, to mattheo riddle of all people.

"y/n," mattheo muttered softly.

"i don't hate you," you said finally, without any further explanation.

he looked relieved. the smile on his face was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there and it didn't look smug or provocative.

"no?" he muttered softly, his question making the hair on your arm stand up, as his thumb shifted beneath your shirt.

"no" you said. surely. finally.

you didn’t realize it, but your hand had lifted, fingertips curling against the edge of his shirt, clinging to the fabric like it grounded you.

he drew you closer. his lips were so close. you closed your eyes. you could almost imagine his taste. the softness of his mouth touching yours. the feeling it would surely awaken in you.

you wanted him. you needed him.

your noses brushed. your lips were a breath apart—

“what in merlin’s name is going on here?”

you gasped, stumbling back from mattheo and almost taking down a few throphies with you.

filch was standing in the doorway of the cramped room and narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously.

before you had the chance to say something, mattheo stepped in front of you, hiding you away from the older man. "we were cleaning," he said simply, a sharp edge in the tone of his words.

filch hesitated.

it was an open secret that he was… uneasy around mattheo. like many people in school. like many people in the wizarding world.

the silence stretched for a beat too long.

"continue then," filch muttered eventually, backing out of the room with a final suspicious glance. “and keep your hands to yourselves.”

mrs. norris padded after him with a flick of her tail, and then they were gone. the door creaked as it shut.

for the rest of detention, neither you nor mattheo spoke. it was as if whatever spark had flickered between you was a fragile flame. one that always burned out the moment either of you got close to changing anything.

you could feel his gaze on you when filch came back and let both of you leave finally.

then, on the way back to the common room, before you had even the chance to worry about things becoming awkward once more, mattheo disappeared into the shadows of the castle, leaving to god knows where again.

that night, you turned from side to side in bed, unable to find sleep.

you stood up, slipping into a pair of slytherin socks, before you left the room, closing the door behind you softly.

the corridor was cold and you wrapped your arms around your frame. theo's sweater was incredibly comfortable, but did not do a great job at keeping you warm.

you walked around the corner and what you saw, made your breath hitch. there was a body on the ground, lazily leaning with his back against the stone wall, his legs stretched out on the floor before him.

mattheo fucking riddle.

of course.

his tie was hanging loosely around his neck, his blazer was a crumpled mess on the floor beside him. he was moving a cigarette over his fingers. a trick you had seen him do a few times before at parties.

mostly to impress girls, mostly because he was bored.

his face looked twisted in the dark light of the corridor, but you could make out the dark stains of the blood easily.

this had to be a joke.

"mattheo" you muttered.

his head jerked up suddenly, but he didn't look as surprised as you. almost as if he had been waiting.

"can't sleep again?" he asked, his voice echoing off the wall across from him.

"got slapped stupid again?" you shot back.

mattheo stood up from the floor slowly. he reached for the blazer beside him. there was a lazy smile on his face, the kind of smug expression that told you exactly how satisfied he was with your words.

"what?" you asked.

"oh, darling" mattheo grinned. "you should really see the other one"

mattheo stepped closer. so close, you imagined to smell the blood on his face.

"i'm only seeing one idiot as it is" you snapped, crossing your arms. "and you do look pretty bad already"

"such compliments," mattheo drawled, pushing the cigarette to rest between his lips and searching the pockets of his trousers for a lighter.

before he had the chance to light the cigarette, you caught it between your fingers, pulling it away from his lips. mattheo followed after your movement, before he realized what you were doing and sighed.

"hey"

"come on" you said, not even sparing another glance at him, as you walked into the direction of the kitchen.

mattheo followed after you wordlessly, accepting his fate without any sort of protest.

"sit down" you directed, pushing him back onto a chair in the kitchen.

mattheo's smile widened. "commanding much?" he laughed at your unimpressed expression. "if you wanted—"

"stop" you interrupted, shaking your head. "i'm just doing this, because i'm a good person, this has nothing to do with you."

"sure it hasn't" matthe leaned back in the chair, while you turned to fetch a rag at the sink, holding it under the water to properly clean the blood off his face.

"you should still go to madam pomfrey tomorrow though" you muttered as you returned and took a seat across from him.

"so you care about my wellbeing?" mattheo asked, furrowing a brow.

"not really" you whispered, as you leaned forward, softly wiping over his left eyebrow, where a few drops of blood had splattered. surely not his own.

mattheo watched you work with narrowed eyes, following every movement of your hand and trying his best to catch your gaze.

"you aren't even looking at me, love."

"of course i am," you protested. "how would i be able to clean this fucking blood off your stupid face if i didn't?"

"stupid face?" mattheo repeated in a mocking tone. "you're not really looking though"

you bit your lip, as you moved on to the right side of his face, right beside his eye. it was a small wound and mattheo barely reacted to the cold touch of the rag on it.

"sweetheart" mattheo called, trying to gain your attention.

you tried not to react.

"look at me, darling"

"i am looking at you, mattheo" you snapped, leaning away from him angrily.

"okay" mattheo nodded, upset that he had angered you, as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

you sighed, before you continued, the rag sweeping at the small wound on the bottom of his mouth that had reopened.

mattheo leaned closer, to make your access to him easier. you narrowed your eyes, but didn't say anything.

he unfolded his hands, that had rested in his lap up until this moment and his right hand settled onto your thigh delibaretly.

he waited.

"mattheo" you said in an effort of protest his action.

his eyes didn’t leave yours. “just tell me to stop,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

you didn’t.

he leaned forward, away from the rag. his nose brushed against yours, before he finally met your lips with his.

your hand was hanging in the air, the rag still in hand, before you finally moved, letting go of the fabric. you closed your eyes, your hands falling into mattheo's neck like a puzzle pieces falling into place.

there was something quietly desperate in the way his mouth moved with yours, like he’d been waiting far too long to know what you’d taste like.

and you... your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. you forgot what you’d meant to say. forgot where you were. forgot your own damn name.

you felt the pressure of his hand still on your thigh, the way your body felt pressed up against his. merlin, he tasted better than you could've ever imagined.

his other arm slid around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, your chair scraping over the floor as it followed you forward.

mattheo broke the kiss softly, his lips brushing yours one last time before he leaned back just enough to see your face. you were half in his lap, lips parted, breathing unsteady, looking up at him like you were waiting for gravity to pull you back down.

you felt ridiculous.

but his face... he didn't look like he was trying to mock you. no, he looked as wrecked as you felt. something that could only be achieved by a kiss that would screw you up for anyone else.

"you better shouldn't look at me like that," mattheo muttered, with a soft smile, while he tried to stabilize his breathing. "or i won't be able to stop the next time."

you weren't sure you even wanted him to stop.

you blinked up at him, still utterly dazed and at a loss for words.

his hold on your thigh tightened slightly. "didn't think you'd—" he interrupted himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "fuck"

you swallowed. you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“say something,” he whispered, voice rough now. “please.”

you swallowed again, before you pressed the words out. "you're still an asshole."

mattheo laughed, a hint of relief swinging in his voice. "you're still a brat."

"yeah," you muttered, moving closer until you were whispering the words right at his mouth. "a brat, who wants you to do that again."

mattheo's mouth clashed with yours in a second. this kiss wasn't as slow. it was raw, urgent, demanding.

your hands slid into his hair, as he pulled you closer at the shoulders and you slipped onto his lap, his hands clasping around your waist like he was scared you would suddenly disappear.

you pulled his head back by the hair softly, pulling away for just a second, a breathy moan escaping his mouth, before you reconnected your lips, following after him.

there was nothing innocent about it now. just the feeling of being right were you were supposed to, his hands pressed to your body, his tongue in your mouth.

you were so utterly his, it was almost scaring you.

you pulled away after a few more seconds. his hand wandered to your cheek, his thumb moving over the soft blush on your face.

you stood up slowly and he rose to his feet immediately after, like you had put a curse on him. his gaze stayed locked on you, while you put back the rag and he reached for his blazer that he had draped over the back of his chair.

you stepped next to him silently.

he came closer, draping his blazer over your shoulders, before he took your hand in his, pulling you to the entrance of the kitchen behind him.

you walked through the halls slowly. almost like you were on a midnight stroll rather than out of bed after curfew.

"all eyes on us," mattheo pointed out, when you came across a few, very nosy portraits.

you smiled at his words, your eyes falling onto your intertwined hands. like pieces falling into place, you thought once more.

"i'm yours to keep" you whispered, your voice echoing through the corridor, mattheo tucked on your hand. "and i'm yours to lose"

"you really think i'm ever letting you go after tonight?" he muttered, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your form. he pressed a kiss to your neck. "fuck, no."

[littlelovelunette]

Sevika X Cook Reader? Essentially, reader is an amazing cook and Sevika is always her taste tester. This leads to Sevika developing a more healthy, if a bit chubby weight that just softens how her muscles look. It’s heartwarming because she’s being taken care of for once and it shows and it throws her off when you consider her usual diet of alcohol and cigarettes.

Spoonful

Modern AU!Sevika x Cook!Reader

Sevika had never been a woman of indulgence, not in the way most people were.

A cigarette between her lips, whiskey burning down her throat, a fight to get her blood pumping—that was all she needed.

Food? That was just a necessity, something to keep her from keeling over between brawls. Half the time, she ate whatever was fastest, greasiest, or closest. The other half, she forgot to eat at all.

Then you came along.

You weren’t like the people she usually ran with. You had warmth in you—something soft but unshakable.

The kind of person who made a place feel like home, even when she wasn’t sure she wanted one.

More importantly, you cooked. And, goddamn, you cooked well.

It started small.

You worked at the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant near one of the places she frequented.

She’d see you behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, apron dusted with flour or sauce, the scent of something mouthwatering filling the air.

Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was the way you always smiled when you saw her, but one day, she let herself linger a little too long.

"You want to try something?" you asked, holding out a plate.

She almost refused. Almost. But the way you looked at her—expectant, hopeful, like you knew she’d love it—made her pause.

She took the plate, scooped up a bite, and let the flavors settle on her tongue.

She wasn’t prepared for how good it was.

Sevika had never been one for words, so she just gave you a slow nod. A grunt of approval.

You beamed like she’d handed you a winning lottery ticket.

That was how it started.

After that, you made her try everything.

"Just one bite," you’d insist, even though she knew damn well it would never be just one bite.

"You need something other than whiskey in your system," you’d scold, sliding a bowl of stew her way.

And before she even realized what was happening, she started coming back. Not just to the restaurant, but to you.

You’d pack leftovers for her, making sure she had something decent to eat, tucking little notes into the containers like, "Don't forget to actually eat today," or "This pairs well with something other than booze, you know."

She acted annoyed at first, rolling her eyes, shoving the containers into her bag with a gruff "Yeah, yeah." But she ate every damn bite.

And then one day, while getting dressed, she noticed it.

Standing in front of the mirror, towel slung over her shoulder, she frowned at her reflection.

Her muscle definition was still there—years of fighting weren’t going anywhere—but there was something new.

A softness around the edges.

A layer of something that hadn’t been there before. Not enough to be called fat, but enough to round out the harshness of her frame.

She poked at her stomach, scowling. Not out of disgust—just confusion.

What the hell?

Her diet hadn’t changed—

Oh.

It hit her all at once. The bowls of food you pushed toward her. The meals you packed for her, making sure she never skipped. The way you always looked so damn pleased whenever she finished a plate.

You’d been taking care of her. And worse? She’d let you.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath.

When she saw you later that day, she had every intention of bringing it up. Maybe even teasing you for it.

But then she walked in, and the scent of whatever you were cooking wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

You turned to her, all bright-eyed and beaming, waving her over like she belonged there.

"Sevika! Perfect timing—taste this."

You held out a spoon, expectant as always.

And just like every other time, she took a bite.

…Damn it. It was good.

She grumbled something under her breath but kept eating, ignoring the way your smile widened.

Maybe—just maybe—she didn’t mind the softness.

Maybe, for once, it was nice to be taken care of.

And maybe, if you kept looking at her like that, she’d let you keep doing it.

Not that she’d ever admit it.

[grudgecollector]

hii queen! i saw that your requests are open, could you write something with daryl and a reader in the earlier seasons who are dating in secret? (they dont want no one to know because daryl is new to relationships and i believe he would be more reserved a little in the beggining), however the group ended up noticing how soft he is to her and how he always keep an eye on her😩 and also i just wanted to say that i read some of yours writtings and they are amazing💕💕

Gimme Shelter | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Tags: Swearing, twd typical violence, kind of slow burn, fluff, lightish angst, half proof-read

Words: 4.4k

A/N: Fank you so much nonny 💖😭 I've been really enjoying writing for Daryl, he was one of my biggest obsessions as a teenager, and that obsession will continue to prevail.

And this is such a cute request, I love secret relationship tropes so much. I decided to do Prison era!Daryl if that's okay, I assume you probably meant for like season 1 or 2, but I felt like it would be cute in the prison.

I know that a slow burn wasn't requested BUT the thoughts just kept coming the more I wrote. Also sorry this took so long to post.

Growing up people would always say you will find the one when you least expect it. Whether it’s in a grocery store, at the park, in a museum. That one person you’re bound to spend the rest of your life with will be there. As if they were waiting for you, and you for them. It was a fairytale dream, one that you lost faith in long ago. 

There were moments you had thought that maybe you finally found that person. Until disappointment would strike time and time again. Your experience with relationships had been less than ideal, never lasting longer than a year. Cheaters, liars, and worst of all abusers. Those types of men had always been the most drawn to you. Making you feel as if you were cursed somehow, unlucky. 

After a while and a slew of pity attempts, you gave up on dating for your own benefit. Deciding it would be best to focus more on yourself. Not allowing yourself to succumb to the societal pressure of getting married by twenty and popping kids out by twenty one. 

That was the dream of a delusional small town teenager, too young to think for themselves let alone plan a future family, and that had been your dream once upon a time. Maybe you read too many stories about young girls finding their prince charming and living happily ever after.

You started to value your alone time. Enjoying the feeling of not having to walk on eggshells in order to keep the other party happy. Things were smooth sailing for about two years. You changed your life around, got a new job, a new car, and a new apartment all within a few months. 

A newfound happiness was settling inside of you, you were beginning to find yourself again. You became more confident in who you were as a person, allowing yourself to actually live your life instead of just simply being alive. 

But life had a twisted sense of humor. 

Things started with frantic breaking news segments on the news. Reporters talking about the horrifying developments coming out of France. In the beginning you had hoped that things wouldn’t escalate past that, hoped that this would be an isolated incident. But things just got worse the more you watched. An unknown virus wreaking havoc across the entirety of Europe, spreading like wildfire across each country. 

After the first case of the virus was reported in Ohio, you started to worry. Things were getting too close for your liking, and with the details they were releasing it wasn’t going to get any better. With each new segment that aired your mother would call, urgently telling you to come back to live with them until this sickness blows over. You knew that it would be your best bet. 

Once the local grocery stores started getting raided, you found yourself being thankful that your family was full of survivalist nuts. Growing up hearing them praise people like Jim Baker, and other televangelist hackjobs like him that weaponized fear mongering for profit. 

Your parents home was stocked full of all the essentials thanks to your aunt Jess. First aid kits, canned food, water to last just a little over a month. It was everything you needed and more. 

“Y’always gotta be prepared, honey.” Your wine-drunk aunt had told you after a week, the both of you lounging on the sofa as you watched the news. “You don’t know how long this crap’s gonna last.” 

It all went by so quickly. The news stations eventually stopped airing not long after the first report hit Georgia, they were urging everyone to evacuate to Atlanta, leaving the streets a mess of honking and dead-stop traffic right outside of your parent’s home. 

And for a short while you had settled into this false hope that you were safe there with them. 

That was until you came back from a short trip to a ransacked Dollar General just down the street. 

The house was oddly quiet when you walked inside. The TV was muted on a flickering static screen, your dad’s recliner was empty, a blanket on the floor. The backdoor that led to the porch was ajar, the sun shining through the crack onto the wood flooring. You remembered that feeling in your stomach as you walked closer, fingers slowly curling around the doorknob. 

When you walked outside it felt as if a bucket of ice water was dumped over your head. The horrifying sight of your mother’s body being gutted by your own father and uncle, fresh blood dripped down the side of the RV next to your aunt’s already mangled corpse. Your hands were trembling fiercely, a nauseating coppery smell filling your nose. 

All you could remember was running. Packing whatever you could get your hands on before taking your mother’s minivan.  

Not long after the death of your family, you were taken in by a small group of five. They were unstable, barely hanging on by a thread, with almost nightly arguments tilting them further over the edge. 

It made things harder for you. The tension starting to make you too nervous to sleep without a knife tucked securely under your pillow. 

The self appointed leader demanded too much, wanting more than half of the rations to himself. He was a cruel hearted individual, mind diluted by the atrocities you were all forced to witness. A dangerous man who was quick tempered, and ruthless to anything or anybody you came across. 

After a month of running with them you made a mistake. You hid a portion of your findings from him. Food that he would have taken the majority of. But you were starving, at the point of hardly caring about your survival if it meant you could eat just a little bit more.

Other members had found out though, outing you quickly. As a punishment he tied you up, stole everything from you. Photo albums, your weapons, your food, bandages, it didn’t matter what it was. After beating you he left you in the supply closet of a convenient store you were temporarily camping out in. 

Part of you half expected them to come back, but you knew better than to think positively now, that could get you killed nowadays. 

The minutes blended into hours into what felt like days. The zip ties around your wrists and ankles dug harshly into your skin, biting into the raw bleeding flesh as you struggled to free yourself. Eventually it got to the point where you started slipping in and out of consciousness, your body exhausted and dehydrated. You were sure you would die there. 

But, much to your surprise, your luck hadn’t run dry just yet. 

In your haze you could hear the sound of once shuffling corpses hit against the door with a heavy thud. Hushed voices barely graced your ears through the door, two men talking to each other. 

Your voice was hoarse as you pathetically attempted to call out. Your throat was dry from the lack of water, forcing your words to come out as a croaking squeak.  

The door had been opened cautiously, the beam of a flashlight assaulting your eyes. You attempted to focus on the man crouching down above you, his blurred features obscured by the baseball hat he wore. 

“Rick!” The man called over his shoulder, another figure coming into view. He was wearing what seemed to be a police officer’s uniform. Whether it was stolen or actually his, you didn’t care, you just wanted out of this damn closet. 

Both men were quick to cut your binds and hauled you to your feet. The quick motion was all it took for you to finally pass out. A thick blanket of exhaustion pressed into you, forcing your eyes to flutter closed and your body to go completely limp. Unable to cling onto consciousness any longer

In those last moments you almost thought that they would just leave you there. Not wanting to bother helping a now passed out stranger, and you wouldn’t have blamed them if they did abandon you. 

Instead when you woke up you were laying on a couch, an older man with short white hair standing over you. 

At first you had almost believed you dreamed it all, the outbreak, the group. That you were in some sort of comatose state and the world was not overrun by flesh eating monsters. But the stinging pain deep within your wrists proved otherwise, the gashes covered by white gauze and medical tape. 

The white haired man, Hershel, ran you through your current state. Malnourishment, dehydration, feverish temperatures. It was evidently clear that you had been through the wringer, and if Glenn and Rick had not found you when they did, you would have died within the day. In fact he had said it was a miracle that Hershel himself could have saved you. 

You figured you had always been stubborn, though, you never gave up easily. 

Hershel had been kind enough to allow you to stay in his house until you got better. Providing you with enough water and food to get you back on your feet. 

The family allowed you to use their shower. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you understood why they were so insistent. A thick layer of grime and blood coated your skin, your hair was matted, your clothes ripped beyond repair. 

You couldn’t help but cry, realizing just how quickly you lost yourself out there. Your humanity has faded so much in such a short amount of time, leaving you a hollow shell of your former self. You looked like a stranger to yourself.

Over the next week Rick’s group urged you to stay. They knew you had nowhere else to go, no family to run back to. 

You were hesitant, though. You didn’t want to continue to be a burden, you were a stranger infiltrating an already close knit group. The closeness they had made you feel even more lonely than you did in your previous group, because at least when it came to them, you didn’t crave that companionship. 

Gone were the days of blind trust, knowing that everything always came with a price these days. So your knife stayed tucked beneath your pillow, fingers clutching onto the handle as you kept an eye on the zipped up entrance of the tent. 

On many sleepless nights, which were frequent, you would sit yourself in front of the dwindling fire outside of your tent. Mind wandering to everything that’s happened to you in the past three months, the things you’ve done to stay alive, the permanent scars you would carry with you for life. 

You stewed in your bitterness. Chewing ruthlessly on the skin around your fingernails. 

Your tent was further away from the rest of the group’s, tucked away in your own area. You found yourself watching the rest of them at first. Thoughts of running away while everyone slept crossed your mind more times than you could count. 

Until one night you heard a twig snap behind you, your knife quickly unsheathed and pointing towards what you thought to be a threat, 

“Geez. You’re almost as bad as Daryl.” One of the older men from Rick’s group, Dale, chuckled as he walked closer to your secluded camp, his hands up in surrender. “But I can go if you want.” He smiled softly. 

“Sorry… Bad habit.” You said quietly, setting your knife back down next to your thigh. 

He shook his head, taking a seat in front of the fire, “No need to be sorry. I can’t blame you for still being a little paranoid.” 

Dale quickly became a source of comfort for you, sporting an almost fatherly personality when talking to you. He was kind, and realistic which was exactly what you needed after everything you’ve been through. Over the course of a few nightly visits he was able to get you to open up a little, telling him about your former group, he was sympathetic and understanding. 

“The world has truly gone to hell.” He grimaced, taking his bucket hat off of his head. “But, we have good people here. Believe it or not.” His smile was reassuring. 

After a few days you started to come around more. Helping the women with laundry, listening to the stories they told about their lives before, anecdotes to keep themselves sane. 

It wasn’t hard to understand why they were so close. The tragedy of their former camp just outside of Atlanta, the C.D.C, Lori’s son getting shot, the people they’ve lost along the way. 

Slowly you felt more like yourself again.

Every so often they would mention that same name Dale did, Daryl. The only member of the group you had yet to meet personally. 

You had seen him walking around the camp, or tucked away in his own tent, further away from the group much like yours was. He was gruff looking, intimidating to the eye, and his occasional temper didn’t help much. But with how insistent he was on finding Carol’s missing daughter, you could tell there was warmth beneath his rigid exterior. 

The first time you talked to him was less than ideal. You were attempting to set up a snare trap in the woods, wanting to try and contribute a little bit more. The frustration quickly turned to embarrassment when he snuck up on you. Your feet got caught in your own trap and caused you to trip and fall. 

“Looks like y’caught somethin’.” Daryl attempted to joke, walking past you and deeper into the woods with his crossbow pointed towards the trees. 

You cut yourself free of the poorly made snare and ran to catch up with him. Choosing your words carefully. 

“Daryl, right?” All you got was a grumble in response, “Listen I know you don’t know me or anythin’... But could you teach me how to hunt?” 

“Teach yourself. I ain’t got time for babysittin’.” His response stung a little, harsher than you had hoped it would be. 

You figured you should have expected that, though, the conversation him and Shane had this morning was heated. An argument almost leading to a full on fight. The tension was growing higher and higher as the days dragged on with no signs of Sophia. 

Then the group found out about what was inside the barn.

One day when Rick was out helping Hershel, Shane took it upon himself to break the chains on the barn door. Walker after walker spilled out, being shot down ruthlessly by some members of Rick’s group, while the Greene family cried out for them to stop. Their worst nightmare coming true, as well as Carol’s. 

A little girl limped out, skin grey and beginning to rot. Her hair was matted with leaves, eyes a milky grey color, and a rasping snarl emitting from her. There was a large gash on her shoulder, a bite. It was devastating to see a child fall victim to such a death. But even more so for Carol, coming to realize that each day they restlessly searched, she had already been dead.. 

The safety that the farm provided didn’t last long after that. 

Shane was quickly losing his grip, Dale was killed by a lone walker, and eventually the fields were overrun by walkers. A massive hoard stumbling onto the property, drawn in by the frequent gunfire. 

You had lost quite a few on that night, good people that had helped you come out of your shell, people that didn’t deserve what they got. In all honesty you didn’t think you would have made it out either if it wasn’t for Andrea and Daryl. 

After the fall of the farm, you were all lost. Hershel and his family had lost their home, and the entire group was left to search. 

But you had to bury your sadness for the time being, winter was quickly approaching. The leaves were changing into a crisp orange color, and the wind had a bite to it in the mornings, leaving you shivering as you huddled closer to the fire. Daryl had been kind enough to let you borrow his poncho some nights, insisting you probably needed it more than him. 

Daryl seemed to warm up to you after a while too. He would subtly make sure you ate by leaving a half eaten can of vegetables next to you, or would occasionally sharpen your knife for you after doing his own. It was a kind gesture, letting you know that he was starting to trust you. 

Eventually it got to the point where your group finally ran out of canned food. There were no stores around, and everyone was too cold or tired to go anywhere. So Daryl decided to take you out to the woods, finally going out of his way to teach you how to hunt. 

“Y’know what you’re trackin’?” He asked one day, slowly walking beside you, following a small winding trail in the woods. 

You were quiet for a second, thinking as you analyzed the tracks next to your feet, “Could be a deer, whatever it is, it’s got hooves.” 

“Obviously.” He huffed, resisting the urge to smile when you glared at him. 

“Shut the hell up, man.” A small sigh came from you, “Could be a hog.” You crouched down and moved the leaves out of the way to get a better look, “The prints are close together, if it were a deer they’d be further apart, right?” 

Daryl just shrugged, “You tell me.” 

That’s how your hunts would usually go, Daryl providing frustrating nonanswers as you attempted to close in on your prey. He wasn’t going to babysit you, as he had originally said when you first asked, you had to figure it out yourself. You knew that was the only way you’d be able to learn, even if it was mildly annoying. 

The winter finally started to melt into spring, temperatures rising and falling occasionally until settling into an in between. And soon enough your restless searching came to an end, the high chain link fences surrounding a prison with walkers meandering the expansive field calling your names. A soon to be shelter for your group and many others. 

The fight against Woodbury had been a painful ordeal, with Maggie and Glenn getting taken hostage, and Daryl leaving with his brother. The group was briefly left in shambles, hanging on by a thread as Rick slowly faded away, losing his way after Lori’s untimely death and the birth of her daughter. 

When Daryl left it broke your heart a little. The two of you had bonded over the course of the harsh winter, often seeking each other out as a heat source. Whispering stories of your families filling the silence as the biting wind wrapped itself around you. But you could never blame him for leaving, knowing you would do the same thing if you could. 

The first attack from the Governor was when Daryl finally returned, his mouthy brother in tow. They had rescued Rick on the outskirts of the fence, luckily finding him just in time before he was overpowered. 

It made you happy to see your friend again, a hand squeezing his shoulder before pulling him into a hug. It had been a lot less awkward than you expected, his arms wrapping around your middle and squeezing softly, reassuring you that he was okay. 

“Well, ain’t that just cute.” Merle had teased, pinching his little brother on the cheek. 

But the tragedies were never ending, your group seemed to constantly be one step away from death’s doorstep. 

The Governor decided to make his way back to the prison, armed gunmen following behind him. 

They wanted to execute every last one of you no matter what it took. Your group had laid out traps, pretending to have left as requested, lulling them in with a false hope that you were gone. Until the shrill sound of the prison sirens started, smoke grenades being thrown down at their feet in the darkened hallways. 

The armed militia of men, mothers, and teenagers the Governor recruited had run away in fear, knowing that their fates would be sealed if they stayed any longer. 

As the weeks continued after the attack, things started to look up. That once forgotten positivity slowly makes its way back into your heart, along with a smile as you allow yourself to get to know the former residence of Woodbury. Your community was slowly forming, a home being made out of the prison. 

It was easy to become comfortable. 

And as your fondness grew for Daryl, you remembered what your mother used to tell you. 

“You will find the one when you least expect it.” 

Who knew that the world had to end in order for you to find him. With every soft touch, lingering whisper, and a quick stolen kiss in the shadows of your cell, it grew increasingly more obvious that your mother may have been right. 

Daryl was the only person you felt safe enough to be vulnerable around. His gentleness towards you breaking down the walls around your heart, settling himself deep within it. And you gladly let him. You both decided to keep your relationship a secret. Enjoying the thrill of sneaking around, while also avoiding any teasing remarks that would come from your group. 

You knew that this was Daryl’s first serious relationship, so you wanted to allow him the grace of warming up to the idea. You wanted him to become more comfortable with himself, taking his time with you, soothing any anxious wandering thought he may have. 

But you knew that the group would notice eventually. Hell, they already were. The small teasing remarks being thrown your way would make Daryl stiffen. He would pick at the strings on his denim jacket as he huffed and grumbled something in response. 

“You want me to slip her a note or somethin’?” Carol teased him, nudging her elbow into his side, “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” She laughed quietly when he rolled his eyes, “Come on Daryl-” 

She was cut off by someone running up to him, Glenn’s frantic eyes meeting Daryl and Carol’s before quickly sputtering out your name, “I don’t know what happened but-” 

The poor boy could barely get the words out before Daryl ran off towards the cell block. 

You were laying in your cell, blood covering your shirt as your side bled profusely. Hershel was quick to try and stop the bleeding, urging everyone to give him room to work. 

“If you want her to live, get out, now!” 

The blood drained from Daryl’s face as he looked at you. Bruises were beginning to bloom on your face and arms, your nose was bleeding and there was a slash on your cheek. Your boyfriend directed his anger towards one of the new members you had taken on a run, pinning him roughly against the concrete wall with his forearm. 

“The hell happened out there?! Huh?!” Daryl shouted in the scared man’s face, shrinking in on himself as Rick and Maggie tried to pull Daryl off. “Talk!” 

“We-” The man gulped, “We got attacked by a small group…” There were tears in his eyes as he tried to explain, his swollen lip trembling. He didn’t look much better than you did honestly, his eye was almost swollen shut, and there was blood coating his hairline, “She said- said she knew them, some group she was with. I thought they were gonna k-kill us.” He swallowed harshly, “They shot her…”

Daryl swore he could see red. His shoulders heaving as he started to pace, fingers running through his hair as he tried to process what the man had said. His face was hot, body pulsing with anger as he glanced back into your cell to see you lying there motionless. 

He stalked back up towards the man, his gaze hard and threatening as he spoke in a gruff voice, “If she dies, her blood is on your hands.” He pressed his finger hard into the man’s chest, pushing him harshly back into the concrete wall before stalking towards the exit of the prison. 

It took the entire council to talk Daryl out of hunting this group down himself. Carol telling him it was a suicide mission, and he would die if he left like this. Going into a situation blinded by rage was never good for anyone, especially now, with you lying unconscious in your cell. 

Luckily for you the bullet went straight through, and all they had to do was wait for you to wake up. 

Daryl didn’t dare leave your side, a rag gently dabbing across your forehead as he whispered softly to you. Unspoken words that he had wished he had told you sooner, words that only you were allowed to hear him say, something he had never dared utter to another person. Not even his own family. 

“I love you.” 

The time seemed to drag on slowly as he waited, his watchful not leaving you for more than a few seconds. His gentle fingers traced patterns on your skin, ignoring the occasional staring that would come from someone passing by your cell. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the secrecy, not now. 

“That fuckin’ tickles.” He suddenly heard you rasp, your eyes fluttering open and glancing down at his fingers on your forearm. 

Relief washed over Daryl like cool rain on a hot summer's day. His shoulders sagged and he couldn’t help but lean his head down to rest on your arm, a long sigh being released from his lungs. 

“Daryl…” You whispered, making him look at you, “It was my old group.” 

The look on your face was similar to the one you sported when they first found you, terrified, lost, confused. You didn’t know what to do with yourself knowing that not only were they still alive, but a lot closer than you would have liked. 

“I know.” He replied, his hand holding onto yours, “You don’t have t’worry about that right now.” 

Even though you were able to find happiness in the apocalypse, tragedy never ceased to sneak up from behind every corner. And you guessed that it had become easy to forget that life had a cruel sense of humor. 

It always would.

[rushman-natalierushman]

omg pls write a nolan x younger fem reader!! nsfw ofc

Eyes Don’t Lie

Warnings: nsfw, age gap, slow burn, toxic behavior, almost getting caught, sexual themes, MDNI

Summary: You and Mark Grayson are childhood friends. Growing up, you always knew there was something strange about the Graysons. At least one in particular. You grew curious and began observing Nolan Grayson closely, unintentionally developing a not so subtle obsession. Meddling your way into their family secrets, you find out there’s a darker side to Nolan. A side you’re inclined to bring out of him.

You’d think living in a world full of supes, they’d have better attention to detail than most. Could they really expect to keep their identities a secret from their community? Especially from neighbors just across the street? Childhood friends and family that grew up together?

Growing up, I spent most of high school guiding Mark Grayson out of his awkward phase. He was the only kid in the neighborhood who was friends with the “older, popular high school girl.” Our families were close to begin with, to the extent they allowed at least. Mark was a few years younger than me, so naturally I took him under my wing.

I’d have to admit, the Graysons had mannerisms that would sometimes come off a little abnormal, but I always assumed they were just a quirky family. At least until my senior year, when I had stayed up late studying for an exam. I caught sight of a man in a strange costume descending into the Graysons’ backyard. I made it a point to bring it up the next time Mark and I hung out. It didn’t take much for freshman Mark to spill his dad’s secrets the minute I started playfully batting my eyelashes at him with a pouty lip.

Years after I graduated, I kept in touch with Mark. Checking in, making sure he was handling academics, and suppressing the urge to kick Todd’s ass every time I heard one of Mark’s tales of how he earned a black eye from “walking into a pole” several times this year. Aside from being his mentor, I was also there to be a friend. The closest he’s had since I found out about Nolan’s identity.  Sure, I was in my early twenties now- but Mark needed someone to vent to. He didn’t want to worry his mom, although she was probably carrying the same burden. It almost made me feel guilty for feeling the way I did. 

After the first time I caught Mr. Grayson flying home, it was as if I always anticipated his arrival. Over time, I understood the many, MANY business trips and bizarre excuses whenever I’d question his whereabouts during my play dates with Mark as a kid.

Some days Nolan would arrive home without a scratch, costume clean just as he left in it. Other days, he’d come back disheveled. Parts of his suit would be torn enough to see skin, but hardly ever wounded. It was as if he was… no, that’s not quite right. He must carry scars from his battles- at least emotionally. Mentally. A man like him couldn’t walk away from such chaos and return as if it didn’t affect him.

Did it affect him? Did he care? Was his family enough to bring him peace? Or was he cold hearted enough to ignore the countless lives of victims that didn’t survive that they call “collateral damage.” The more curious I grew, the more I found myself purposefully looking out my window.  I’d pry my mesh curtains open, peering out the window in hopes to catch that familiar flash of red. Maybe it was much, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew I was watching, waiting for him to arrive. It’s become routine at this point. He flies off to save the world, disappears for a few days- weeks even. I’d take a glimpse out my window every so often, scanning the clouds. 

Sometimes I’d get caught by Mark, walking down his driveway on his way to school. I’d have to play it off as if I was daydreaming like some half minded sorority girl, but I was always looking out for his father. Infatuated by him. Since I was young, I’ve had this school girl crush on Mr. Grayson. There’s this gleam in his eye that reels me in. They concealed a darkness; one that intrigued me. I could never pinpoint how I assume this hidden trait, seeing as he’s the strongest superhero. He was kind and nurturing, or maybe it was an act.

Every weekend since I've started college, Mark and I would gather our families to catch up over dinner. The days that Nolan didn’t show, our time would fly with warm greeting and shared laughter, but the days that Nolan showed, there was this looming tension. Lately, every visit felt less and less welcoming. I couldn’t tell if it was in my head, but it always felt like his glares across the table were directed at me. Mark had begun distancing himself, and I was growing worried. Did we offend them somehow? 

It took a lot of courage, but I eventually found myself walking up their driveway. Before I could ring the doorbell, the door swung up with Mark on the other side.

“Mark!” I stated in shock.

“Y/n?” 

“Listen, I wanted to talk-“

“Mark was just leaving,” a deep, gravely voice cut me off. To no surprise, Nolan was peering from behind. His dark, cold eyes sending a shiver down my spine.

“Right…” I stepped aside as Mark nodded apologetically. My saddened eyes followed him as he began walking down the block, at least until I heard his father clearing his throat behind me.

“Mr. Grayson, I-"

“Nolan,” he corrected. “We’re past the formalities, you’re not a child anymore.”

“Sorry, Nolan- sir…” I stuttered, mentally kicking myself. “I just haven’t been over in so long, I wasn’t sure if-"

“Why are you here, y/n?” 

“With all due respect… Nolan. I can’t help but feel that you’re pushing us away.” I calmly pointed out as I caught him intaking a sharp breath. He stood taller than before, if it were even possible. I gulped under his intimidation. “With all Mark has been through-"

“What would you know about what Mark has been through?”

“Sir, I’ve known Mark since we were kids. You can’t be surprised that he’s vented about some things-" before I could finish my argument, I was pulled harshly inside their home. As the door slammed shut, I was pushed into it. Nolan’s arms trapping me in place as they gripped my shoulders. It all happened so fast, my heart was racing through my chest. His scowl was mean. My eyes darted back and forth between his.

“Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?” He whispered rather harshly.

“I-I don’t understand.”

“This house is under extreme surveillance. If you claim to know of any “experiences” or “knowledge”, you will be forced into a life you do not understand.”

“If this is about you being Omni-man-“ Suddenly, I was whipped forward only to be slammed right back into the door. I winced at the impact as I caught that gleam in his eyes.

“You think I haven’t noticed? Every departure. Every take off. I can feel you watching me. You’re not any more discrete than the empty house beside yours, full of agents and fail safes in case I go rogue.”

“Will you?” I narrowed my eyes. “Go rogue?”

His grip on my shoulders loosened. I scanned his features, picking up on his beard. I hadn’t noticed until now that he looked rather worn down. He must’ve just gotten back from a fight not too long ago. Possibly involving the aliens that kept attempting to invade our planet every three days. It suited him. 

“Honey? Is everything alright down there?” Debbie’s voice rang from upstairs. Nolan responded reassuringly without raising concern. It was enough to keep Debbie from coming down, but that didn't phase me. My attention and focus was locked on Nolan. This was always my favorite look on him. Untamed hair, stern expression. I knew it was wrong. He’s married. How could I possibly be fantasizing about the way he has me trapped beneath his form; his wife upstairs. Oh, how I wanted him to overpower me in a far more inappropriate manner.

“Please…” I accidentally let out in barely a whisper. I mewled for him, but I couldn’t let him know that. Could I?

“Please what?” Nolan expressed confusingly. 

“Please, let me go.” I attempted to shrug off my tone.

“So you can run off and expose my identity to the rest of the world and risk the safety of this family?”

“No… because if you keep me trapped here, I can’t promise I won’t do something stupid.”

Nolan’s expression turned from confusion, to a rather lustful one. He was probably trying to contain it, but I’ve studied him for years…

“Unless, of course, you want me to,” I teased as I slowly tilted my chin up so that our lips were hovering over each other. For a moment, he showed weakness. Letting himself linger a second too long before taking a step back.

“Don’t be ridiculous."

“Is it?” I pushed. “Come on, Nolan.” I dragged his name so that my voice stuck in his head. “You said it yourself. I’ve waited for you, longed for you. Hoping one day you’d realize how much I’ve grown.”

Nolan shut his eyes, attempting to ignore my sultry tone as I continued on.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed. I see the way you look at me.” As if on cue, his eyelids slowly revealed his ocean filled eyes. They started at my thighs, eyes roaming my form. “Every weekend. In front of my family…” I leaned in close enough to talk lowly in his ear. “In front of your wife.” 

The corner of my lips curled upward into a smirk as the shower upstairs turned on. Nolan used this to his advantage and swiftly moved us against the wall beneath the staircase, displaying his speed and strength. His hand forcing a grip on my throat, pinning me. It wasn’t enough to cut off my air supply, but a scare tactic at best. “Do not speak of my wife as if she weren’t under this roof.”

“Oh, please- I know there’s a darkness in you. Eyes don't lie. I know your thoughts have wandered. You’ve felt conflicted because you know Mark and I grew up together, but I’m older now.”

“Not old enough.” Nolan argued, but it was enough to confirm my theory. 

“You can stop pretending,” I scoffed. “The only way you would have known I was watching you all this time, is if you were peeking through my window too.”

“Enough,” his eyebrows furrowed in denial.

“Did you enjoy the show?” I teased once more before jolting at his fist crashing on the wall beside my head.

“I said enough!” I laughed in disbelief. How far was he willing to go to keep up his charade? Surely the impact on the wall made a dent, but it was also loud enough to be brought to Debbie’s attention.

“Nolan, what’s going on?” Her tone grew concerned, yelling over the spraying water.

“Mrs. Grayson?” I pitched in, earning a tighter grip on my throat. “I’m sorry, I’m such a klutz. I was just-“

“Y/n was just stopping by to bring back some of my books Mark lent her parents last weekend.” I tilted my head, confused at his statement. “She tripped and crashed the box into the wall, leaving a small dent.” Nice cover.

“Y/n, hun, are you alright?”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Grayson. Your husband is taking good care of me.” I winked as he nervously chuckled to accommodate to my comment. Once Debbie had returned to her duties, my attention was brought back to his earlier statement. “Mark was at my parents? So you’re not pushing my family away; you’re just avoiding me.” I self proclaimed. “Why?”

“You know why.” Nolan finally admits.

“Show me…” I tested. I didn’t know how this would play out. I only hoped- dreamed- that it would turn out in my favor. For a moment, our eyes locked. I could see him pretending to contemplate, but I could feel the lust radiating off of him.

“Fuck it.” 

My lips parted as he leaned in, crashing his lips into mine. The kiss was dominating and full of need. Pent up frustration built up over the years, finally releasing in this moment. Our lips mimicked each other’s movements, groaning ever so lightly as to not alarm Debbie. His hold on my neck pulled me in closer as his leg planted itself between mine, using his knee to make room for him. My core ached as his muscled thigh applied pressure.

Neither of us faltered from our synced movements until I gasped out for air. It was then I hissed out in pleasure as I felt my hip begin to roll against his thigh. His hand on my throat migrated to grip my chin, forcing me to look away so that he had access to my neck. His tongue trailed up my neck before sucking at my jaw. Shutting my eyes in pleasure, I found myself tangling my fingers in his hair. I panted as he rubbed himself against me, working his leg to provide the right amount of friction. In doing so, I could feel his own arousal building up as his jeans tented up. He began leaving small pecks back down to my neck, trailing down to my collar bone. 

With the overwhelming multiple sensations, I couldn’t help but moan out lightly. This quickly earned a love bite at my collar bone, reaching his hand to cover my mouth. My whimpers grew muffled as I felt a familiar coil. My head rested against the wall, attempting to hold back my release to extend the moment. I began tugging on the hairs at the nape of his nick as his bear tickled my chest. The sounds escaping my throat rose higher in pitch, threatening to reach my climax. 

Just as I felt myself crumble under his touch, the upstairs bathroom door swung open. Nolan jumped away from me, leaning back on the counter as my chest heaved and my knees buckled. I used the wall behind me as leverage to hold myself up as I caught my breath.

The cherry on top was Mark entering the front door, catching my flushed expression. I immediately turned away to hide my pleasure written face as Nolan stepped between us to cover me from Mark’s view.

“Mark, you’re home… early,” Nolan attempted.

“Yeah that… project,” we all knew that was bullshit, but for the sake of argument- “was easier to put together than expected.”

“Good, great. Listen, I think it’s time we all have a chat,” Nolan insisted. I snapped my head back in their direction, not knowing where this was headed. “As soon as your mother comes down, I think there are some family matters to be discussed. Some that may involve y/n.”

My eyes widened. Let the reunion begin.

[alanisstonedd]

hey pookiee, can you tell us how marine!rafe & reader met?

YES. yes i can love. got a tad bit carried away 🙂‍↕️ ANDDDDD lets get into this marine!rafe lore:

not proofread so plz excuse errors yall lmfao

first thing, both rafe and reader went to kildare county hs. you were good friends with kie, and dabbled in the same circle sometimes, often running into rafe during parties they all went to, or when sarah invited you & kie over to tanny hill.

and actually lets back up even more bcs - marine!rafe is not a kook. if anything hes a mutt like kie. ward had humble beginnings yk, being the son of a clue collar man - his father, who took over cameron construction co from HIS father. they mostly did framework, structural work, and remodeling for businesses and houses on the cut but the work was amazing quality so they were a very quickly growing name. still, ward grew up on the cut and started raising the kids there.

but fast forward, ward eventually takes over and decides to expand into all interior work, all exterior work, decks & patios, custom woodwork, honestly whatever you can think of - but advertised to the rich tourists and families on figure 8 and stuff. they started RAKING in cash from that expansion and ward decided to build a house on figure 8 like rose always wanted - tanny hill!

NOW, i think you and rafe essentially had a slow burn situation. y'all would sit and talk the whole night at bonfire parties, barely putting a dent in your drinks. for some reason your class schedules were always in synch, leisurely walking each other to the next one, rafe trying to make you laugh every the whole way. y'all would accidentally rendezvous in the kitchen while at you were hanging at tanny hill, sarah and kie rolling their eyes at the giggles carrying all the way into her room.

rafe quickly developed a very intense crush, thanking whatever power made your schedules 95% the same, spending the rest of his time watching you from afar. he just never worked up the courage to act, convinced you'd never be as interested in a regular dude like him. his daily routine consisted of class, then work with his dad until the evening, after that probably linking up with barry or john b & friends™ for a beer. he felt like he had nothing to offer you besides his expert ability to fix just about anything, some wildflowers he keeps in his truck specifically because they remind you of him, and every last piece of of his heart.

chile.. little did he know you were just as in love. just a little self conscious is all. mkay maybe a lot? look, he already had a full sleeve and a half by junior year... not to mention his pierced ears, and the sexiest working man hands you'd ever seen. he BEEN fine, you just knew he was experienced and stuff, definitely not interested in a regular girl like you. so you watched him from afar... you could identify the rumble of his truck from at least a few miles away

he would come to visit you when you got your first job at the wreck. posting up at the bar, pretending to do homework, or catching up with john b & friends™. thats kind of when you started to catch what he was throwin down. the alcohol available loosened him up a lil bit, almost getting you fired from how much y'all would talk.

from behind the bar you had a front row seat to the way he looked at you, feeling hot like you were shoved under a spotlight. that didn't stop him from getting even closer though, behind the bar helping you clean up by the end of the night. your hands would brush, too focused on the dishes, and it was electric - so burning hot you both had to take a beat before getting back to it.

but by the time senior homecoming came around you had fully blossomed, more and more confident by the day, even finer by the hour. so even though you scared the hell out of him, he was willing to shoot his shot thinly veiled by asking you to the event. he planned and planned, wanting to make it so special for you - he was gonna cover his truck bed in your wildflowers and candles, back it up to the beach at sunset, complete with a basket of your favorite snacks and a lengthy heartfelt note asking you to be his date and confessing his feelings...

just his luck though - as quickly as could blurt out his idea to sarah and kie, they awkwardly informed him that some fucker beat him to it. showed up at the wreck after school to ask you with no flowers and a delivery like asking for the math homework. he was lowkey devastated. feeling defeated after the glimmer of hope he let himself have. even thought he did feel the slighest bit better after kie & sarah let it slip that you were NOT into dude, and were less than thrilled that you couldn't go with your girls.

he busies himself with work on homecoming night, selfishly making a quick trip to the island club - where he knew homecoming was in full swing - to grab some plans for their new outdoor edition.... and see if he could check on you. pulls up in his truck to the sight of you perched on the from steps, looking unmoved by the highly anticipated event.

he strolls over to take a seat next to you, softly admitting how beautiful you look. and before you know it you're in the passenger seat of his F-150 backing up to the beach - just in time for the last breathtaking swatch of sunset. he opens your door and carries you around to the bed, not wanting your dress to "get all dirty and stuff".

you tell him about how horrible your fake date was, and he laughs, calling the dude a dipshit and sheepishly confessing that he might've wanted to ask you, fully expecting you to chuckle back. but to his surprise you turn to him and smile, softly admitting how much more you would've enjoyed that. y'all have ur first kiss in that truck bed, snuggled up watching the sunset, just talking like you always do

i reckon from that moment on y'all were inseparable..... at least until you went off to college at the end of the summer. it was tragic, lots of crying. he felt like he lost the only part of him that mattered - so he told ward he was joining the army.

he told you he was leaving of course but it was a somber conversation - y'all already knowing how little contact was in the future for you both. y'all were so young, so much life a ahead of you - promising that if fate ever brought you both back together you'd listen. and sure enough, what felt like a lifetime later, it did.

he'd been back home on leave, same ol' same ol', long days with his dad at the construction company. he was sitting at the bar at the wreck one evening when that same electric feeling hit him like a right hook. you walked in with kie & his sister, first day back home after graduating, doing some much needed catching up.

you told the girls to go on, and sat next to him, sparking up a conversation like y'all were back in highschool. he told you he was leaving on deployment soon so the two of you spent as much time as you could together before he left, no acknowledgement of the tension between you both. he left feeling better than he had in long time, rejuvenated by the time he spent with you even if y'all weren't together.

last thing he thought he'd see when he touched back down at fort bragg, was you in that damn sundress, clutching two miller lites, aviators perched on your cute nose. thats when he knew there was no more ignoring this.

©  alanisstonedd 2025 — do not steal, plagiarise, or modify my content.

hope y'all liked this! likes and reblogs and all the rest much appreciated!!!

xoxo, lana 💋💋💋

[porcelainseashore]

To Neighbors and New Beginnings

Pairing: Retired! Older! Leon Kennedy x Neighbor! Fem! Reader

Summary: Leon’s getting on in years and finally retired. But that doesn’t mean he’s slowing down in terms of enjoying life. When you moved in next door, little did you realize what you had bargained for.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Post-Resident Evil: Death Island, age gap (Leon in his 60s, Reader in her 30s), strangers to lovers, swearing, bad humor, teasing, flirting, awkward tension, slow burn, romance, fluff, suggestive themes, mild smut.

Authors' Note: Inspired by this older Leon Kennedy pic, we started with a drabble that of course turned into a full length one-shot about our favorite agent, who’s aged like fine wine. This is a writing collab between AliBelleRosetta / @alibellerosetta and me, which we did for fun!

AO3 Link

There comes a time when an agent needs to retire, and Leon was no exception. When he started pushing mid-60s, there wasn’t much else he could do, save for having his brains picked for knowledge on B.O.W. behavior and countertactics. Even that was slowly dwindling as new virus strains and procedures developed. It reached a point where an agreement was made for him to be called in on a consulting basis, but for the most part of his retirement life, he was free to do as he pleased, within limits.

After all the horrors he had witnessed, he was more than happy to opt for the simple life. He finally had enough time on his hands to care for a pet. So, he pounced at the opportunity and got himself a retired police dog, settling down together with him in a quiet, suburban neighborhood, in the middle of nowhere, doing fuck all. At least for the moment. Until you came along. You sweet, young thing, you.

You were half his age, but all is fair in love and war when both of you were consenting adults. You’d recently moved in next door to him, after the previous owners had decided to sell off their house in favor of acquiring a smaller, more manageable place. What was a young lady like yourself doing here? he often wondered. You were an enigma, just like he was to you.

It began with him going about his daily routine of yawning and stretching his weary limbs, as he trudged out sluggishly, in nothing more than a pair of shorts and flip-flops, to get the morning paper from his mailbox, dog trailing behind. Slamming the lid shut after he had fished the paper out of the box and flicked it open, he spotted you from the corner of his eye, just as his dog lifted his leg to mark his territory on the stand.

You were standing by your kitchen window, biting the bottom of your lip, oblivious to the tap left running, as you peered at him intently. It seemed as if you were even unaware that he had caught you staring, since you made no attempt to cover it up. He smirked to himself before nonchalantly heading back to his house. It gave him a boost of confidence knowing that he still remained spry as ever. So what if his hair, once golden blonde and a source of pride, was now a sea of white? So what if he sported a couple of wrinkles and liver spots? He sure as hell hadn’t lost his touch yet.

A couple of days later, when the weather was good, he pulled up a deckchair on the front lawn, in direct line of sight of your bedroom window. The sound of your hair dryer turning on tipped him off that you were in. He proceeded to sunbathe on the chair topless, his newspaper in hand, without a care in the world. His dog made his rounds along the lawn, frolicking in the grass, as various passers-by greeted Leon cordially.

“Mr. Kennedy.”

He nodded at them politely.

A moment later, he heard the shutters of a window opening. He didn’t even have to turn in your direction to know that you were leaning out, pretending to take in the glow of the noon sun as you traced the outline of his muscles with your eyes. He flipped a page and chuckled. Oh, what was he going to do with you?

Well, the grass was getting taller and more unruly. That wouldn’t do. It was time for him to whip out the big guns. He picked a Sunday afternoon, when people were usually lazy and lounged around at home. Gripping the mower’s handle with one hand, he pulled the starter cord a couple of times, until the engine revved to life. 

Its loud, whirring sound caused you to poke your head out of your window. He caught your gaze then, giving you a cocky wink. A scarlet blush spread across your cheeks as you waved back at him, trying to appear friendly. Shaking his head with a grin, he got to work, methodically pushing the mower across the lush, green expanse of his front lawn. The crisp scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, as the sun’s rays beat down mercilessly. Beads of perspiration glistened on his forehead and pooled at his neck. It was time for a short break.

Peeling his drenched, white t-shirt over his head, he used it to wipe the sweat away, dabbing at his chest and underarms, before slinging it over his shoulder. Your eyes were fixed on the scene before you, as you rested your chin in the cradle of your hands, staring dreamily at him again from the window. He flexed his upper body slightly, just enough to give you a teaser of what was to come. That snapped you out of your reverie, as you cleared your throat and busied yourself with something in the kitchen. He couldn’t see what it was from where he was standing.

Soon, he saw you walking over with an icy cold drink in your hand. You stuck it out in front of him like a peace offering.

“Lemonade?” You seemed uncertain and shy.

“Sure.” He nodded and smiled, accepting it graciously. 

A tingle ran through your veins where his fingers brushed against yours when he took the glass from you. His piercing blue eyes held your gaze as he gulped down the refreshment, though the last bits of it spilled from his mouth down to his chest.

“Oops.” He shrugged unapologetically. “Can’t let it go to waste, can I?”

Dragging his finger along the wet parts of his chest, he gathered what remained of the liquid and placed it into his mouth, licking and sucking on it like it was the most delicious thing in the world.

“Mmm,” he murmured softly. “Tastes good.”

The crow’s feet etching the corners of his eyes crinkled warmly, as he watched you sputter and cough in response.

“Excuse me.” A crimson wave had washed over your face, as you pat your chest furiously. “Choked on my saliva.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

He eyed you again intensely, motioning to your other hand. “What’ve you got there?”

“Oh, uh, sunblock?” You pointed at the reddened skin on his back. “I thought you might-”

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he interrupted, presenting his back towards you, as he waited patiently for you to make a move.

Sweetheart? You swallowed thickly, trying to figure out if you had misheard what he said. Shakily, you squeezed out a creamy, white blob of sunscreen into your palms, rubbing them together before slathering it over his back gingerly.

You gasped in surprise, as you felt the toned muscles of his back beneath your hands. This was way better in-person. He must work out a lot, you thought. A lot more than someone of his age.

However, it didn’t take long for you to notice the multitude of scars scattered across his back. As you caressed the raised bumps and faded indents, you wondered what kind of life he had led back in the day. Was he a military man? A war veteran? Or maybe he just got into a lot of fights?

Apparently, you must have a magic touch, because Leon started to treat it as if you were giving him a full-body massage.

“Yeah,” he grunted, as you ran your hands over his taut shoulders. “Right there…”

Your task was to simply ensure he didn't get any more sunburned than he already was, but the poor man was so tight all over, you felt sorry for him. So, you got a little carried away and pressed hard against a particularly stubborn knot in his lower back.

He tilted his head back involuntarily and let out a loud, pornographic moan.

“Mr. Kennedy?” you squeaked, concerned if you went too far.

“Please, just call me Leon.” He flashed a boyish smile that revealed a glimpse into how he might have appeared in his younger days. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great, sweetheart.”

You hummed in response, his praise getting the better of you and causing a pool of arousal to form between your legs. All at once, you’d forgotten where to place your hands, what to say, and what exactly were you doing, flirting with your older neighbor so shamelessly out in the open?

A cold shower was definitely on the agenda after this. If DILFs existed, what would you call even older men who were this fuckable again? GILFs? You shuddered, feeling dirty for all the obscene thoughts swimming through your mind.

“Um, well, I guess that’s done!” you chirped out rather overenthusiastically, as you pulled away from him.

There was a slight pout on his face, though he was quick to mask it with a courteous smile. “Shame,” he commented lightheartedly. “Was enjoying it.”

A little too much, you snickered internally, as you made your way back to your house

━━━━━━━━━━━

As he stood staring out of his living room window, he pondered his next move. Despite your previous hasty retreat, you had taken to discreetly watching him work with not just a small amount of eagerness, and he was more than happy to oblige your ogling. After all, who wouldn't want a beautiful woman staring after them?

You were a curious one in his eyes, a blend of boldness as you approached him and shyness the moment you got your anticipated reward. It was a fun game he was more than happy to play with you.

Today wasn't going to be any different.

Once again, the sun hung high with not a cloud in sight, perfect to work outside on some much needed errands, but with your notable attention on him lately, the to-do list had taken quite a hit. His ideas were wearing thin, but one thought stuck out, especially with how keen you seemed to be watching him work the lawnmower. Maybe something on a larger scale would be within your interests.

With a smirk and a listen out for the quiet clangs coming from your kitchen to let him know you were home, he dropped the empty coffee cup down in his sink and headed over to snatch up his long neglected key to get on with the job at hand. The sturdy garage door opened with a series of loud clanks, the inside admittedly dusty with neglect. There in the middle stood his pride and joy. The motorcycle was an older model, but also the only one to withstand his youthful recklessness.

It’s long overdue for a tune up, he thought, grasping the handlebars as he pushed the bike out of the garage. He let it come to a rest slightly out on the driveway as he decided to give it a check over and wash it down, sneakily just in the eyeline of your window but not enough for you to see much. The bike itself admittedly didn’t get ridden as much as it should, but if he guessed right, maybe it would someday soon.

You had heard the noise of his garage door open only for curiosity to get the better of you, cracking open the window to try to get a peek of what your neighbor was up to now. It was like something had come over you, and every time he made an appearance, you couldn’t help but watch after him. You saw he was there outside briefly before heading back into his house and returning moments later with a bucket full of soapy water.

When he glanced at your kitchen upon his return, he chuckled to himself as he dropped the bucket down, sloshing some of the water across his drive. Apparently his idea had already started to work a treat, having grabbed your attention. He inserted the key into the ignition and turned it, as the motorcycle roared to life, the battery still able to kick in despite its disuse. The sound of the engine was distinct, much different from the mower previously, and he knew it was sure to pique your interest even further with what a curious thing you were. The shuffling from your kitchen as the window cracked open a little more was enough to tell him that he once again had your attention. Without a care in the world other than checking his bike and giving you a show, he dropped down on one knee, ignoring the tightening feeling in his joints. His knees weren't what they used to be after too many B.O.W. fights.

From your hung back viewpoint, you couldn’t see much, but the noise from outside drew your focus fiercely and you couldn't help but try to get a better look. No matter how much you stood on your tiptoes and reached close to the window, he was just about covered from your spot where you could only make out his unfortunately clothed back, hiding his mysterious antics for once. The way he was acting was odd, as usually he was more open with his activities. You tried to tell yourself that you should walk away and leave him to it, but it was like a desperate urge that needed to be quenched.

While his dog ran off into the yard to chase a wandering squirrel, he moved on to checking the bike over, not one to half-ass his task even if there were other motives. A quick examination of the moving parts and pivot points for signs of wear and tear came back fine, as well as inspecting for any leakage that disuse could have caused. The job was a lot messier than he remembered, with the oil gathering around the edges of the chassis coating his hands and part of his top.

The sudden barking of his dog nearby alerted him to a presence on the property, a smirk creeping up knowingly that your interest had once again gotten the better of you. You just stood there next to him staring him down, checking out his arm muscles that were left uncovered by the loose gray tank he wore, the words of your friends running through your mind as they egged you on to get closer to him. He had been working hard, and you noticed with a flush that some of the oil had smudged up his forearms and along his taught biceps.

He was tempted to chuckle at just how predictable you were becoming, knowing before he turned to look your way that you would be gazing over him with that distinct look in your eyes. It was no surprise to him at all that he was correct, finding you standing there with your shadow cast over him, and your arms wrapped around yourself, transfixed. He was seriously wondering if you didn’t know you were staring at him that way, or if you just didn’t care to hide it.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you found your eyes suddenly catching his, quickly darting away from his bright blue ones and to the motorcycle he was working on. “Oh wow, didn't know you had a bike.”

“This old girl? Been with me for years,” he said as his large hand patted the hard seat in front of him. He then used the seat as a brace to stand up, stretching out the stiff muscles that had begun to seize up from his crouched position while also putting his body on full display for your eyes. 

You couldn’t help yourself as you watched him riveted, taking in the way he flexed and moved as you felt a blush flash across your cheeks again. You had to cough to clear your throat as you tore your eyes away from him. “Haven't seen you ride it.”

“Not much of a chance to lately.”

You bit your cheek at the thought of him on it, and of you wrapped around his firm back while he rode it. No matter what, your mind kept going back to him, reliving the sensation of his skin under your hands when you had put lotion on his body, desperate to touch-

“I need to wash.”

“What?” you yelped, startled out of your wandering thoughts which snapped to his oil-covered arms and hands, eyeing them up and instantly imagining them instead coated in lather and foam as water streaked down them. You wouldn't have minded being the one to wash that oil off of his skin if it meant running your hands all over him again, a thought you were coming to accept was fueled by nothing but pure lust.

“The bike. It's filthy,” he clarified with an amused chuckle, leaving you feeling hot, embarrassed and completely disappointed. Of course he meant the bike, you scolded yourself, suddenly flushing more with humiliation than arousal.

Unexpectedly, he moved to bend down right in front of you, the tank he was wearing gaping open enough with the movement for you to look down the front of it and at his solid chest partially hidden underneath. “Oh,” you sighed out as you bit your tongue hard in an effort not to say more, his head becoming dangerously close to your crotch, and if he just shifted over a little more… 

His rough hand reached into the bucket next to you to grab the sponge floating on top, his eyes moving to catch yours as he shot you a downright dangerous smirk. As he stood back up straight, he rang the sponge out to remove the excess water, the soapy suds flying everywhere around the pair of you. You noticed that the foam coated his tank and turned it translucent in the sun as it clung tightly to his body and left trails of droplets over his uncovered skin. All you could do was swallow hard and drag your eyes off of him, a task that was more monumental than you thought it would be.

With a casualness about him, he set the sponge down on the seat of the bike suddenly, asking you, “Wanna go for a ride sometime?” 

You were caught by surprise, mind instantly faltering at the evocative question. There was no way he meant anything other than a ride on his motorcycle, right? you thought. After all, he was just a friendly older man, not some hormone riddled teen chatting up the first woman he laid eyes on. It was you that had the dirty mind. “I, um, maybe? I don't have much experience with them,” you said, answering his question as best you could ramble out.

His eyebrow quirked at your answer, his voice deepening slightly as he replied, “Hmm, never thought that would be the case. I don't mind teaching you a few things, sweetheart.”

You just laughed off his words, thinking the suggestiveness was still all on you. “I've never even been on a bike.”

“Who said I was talking about my bike?”

Your breath instantly hitched at the implication, your eyes darting between his mirth filled ones only to drift lower and catch onto his lips. They looked soft, warm, highlighted on each side by deepened laughter lines that you never would’ve thought could look so good on a man. But as they say, when men get older they age like fine wine. If that was the case, he would be a Cabernet Sauvignon aged to perfection. And you were parched.

It didn’t surprise you at all that when you found yourself shifting closer to him, you chose to embrace it, craving to feel the lips of the man you had spent too much time lately thinking about, only to become emboldened as he seemed to move in too. Your lips were mere inches apart, the heat of desire desperately running through you at the anticipated touch. 

All that came crashing down the moment his dog streaked past you chasing that damn squirrel, sending the bucket of water flying and splashing water across you both, cooling down your racing pulse and burning libido. Alarmed, you quickly backed away from him, down his drive, as the implications of what you almost did crashed down upon you. All you could do was mutter some kind of excuse and beat a hasty retreat, wondering how you would ever be able to look your neighbor in the eye the next time you saw him.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As Leon watched the scene unfold in front of him, there wasn’t much else he could do. You were a slippery one, like a mouse that had been spooked and scurried off. The one that got away. He placed his hands on his hips, arms akimbo as he clucked his tongue and sighed. Rein it in, Kennedy. What were you thinking?

He really should find better things to do than to chase a pretty little thing like you. You probably had a bunch of younger men waiting in line, he noted self-deprecatingly.

Suddenly, he heard a buzzing sound and a light flickered on the ground at his feet. Your phone. It must have slipped out of your pocket in your rush to get away. Picking it up, his eyes darted towards the message notification on the screen that piqued his curiosity. It seemed to come from a group chat entitled ‘All The Single Ladies’.

‘Raaarrr, is that the literal definition of a silver fox or what?’

Silver fox? Did they mean what he was thinking? He began to second-guess himself.

The next notification popped up only seconds after, filled with thirsty-looking emojis followed by another text.

‘Damn gurl, your neighbor is hot af! You better tap that or I will!’

More strings of notifications chimed in, as the phone vibrated constantly.

‘GILF alert!’

‘I wanna blow him so hard he’ll…’

At that, he put the phone down and stopped reading, already having figured out your spiel and not wanting to intrude any further into your privacy. A wry smile formed across his face. Not only had you been speaking with your friends about him, you’d even sent them a sneaky picture you’d snapped of him to gawk at.

A sense of pride swelled in his chest as he was back in the game again. Guess he’d better clean up and use the perfect excuse of returning your phone back to you to have a chat.

Meanwhile at your place, you’d managed to calm your nerves with a cold shower and a pot of floral tea. That was so stupid! you screamed at yourself internally, not daring to look in the direction of the window any longer.

Before you had a chance to ponder upon your recent actions any longer, your stomach growled audibly. Glancing up at the clock, you were astonished to find that the hours had just sped by unnoticed. It was already time to start cooking dinner. You had a whole chicken and potatoes to roast, as well as the vegetables, herb butter and sauce to prepare. 

Your friends were supposed to have joined you today for the meal, but unfortunately unforeseen circumstances had kept them preoccupied, and your dinner gathering had been delayed to another weekend. Still, you were determined not to let that get in the way of your enjoyment, so you decided to go ahead with the same meal plan anyway.

If only today’s events had gone differently with a certain neighbor of yours. You sighed dejectedly and pressed a palm against your face. Though that sparked off a reminder that you hadn’t checked your phone for any messages for a while. Where was it?

You scrambled around, digging through your pockets and your purse to find the device, but came back empty-handed. A blinding panic began to set in. Oh god no. You didn’t leave it at Leon’s by accident, did you?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Just then, the doorbell rang, startling you and causing you to jump to your feet. You sprinted towards the door, swinging it open, only to come face-to-face with the man who had been causing you all this trouble so far.

“H-hello…?” you stammered out a greeting, slowly wedging yourself behind the door, using it like a makeshift barrier between you and Leon.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He dangled your phone in front of him, grinning playfully. “Forgot something?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks!” You reached out, grabbing it quickly as you rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.

A horrifying thought swept through your mind. Did he know? You searched his facial expression closely for any indication that he might have seen something on your phone that he shouldn’t have, but there was nothing. He looked as cool and collected as ever.

Maybe you were overthinking things. “I was just about to make dinner actually,” you mentioned in passing. 

He looked at you expectantly and whatever willpower you had left in that instant vanished into thin air. You caved in.

“Would you like to join me?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could process them.

"Thought you'd never ask," he replied huskily as he stepped into the corridor you led him through.

“So what’re we cooking tonight, chef?” He peered around the kitchen, checking out the equipment and utensils, trying to get acquainted with the place.

You guffawed. “Erm, you’re a guest.”

“So?” He folded his arms. “I’m not the type who lets a lady do all the work.”

Aware that he wasn’t going to budge on the matter, you raised your hands in mock exasperation. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re not the first to say it.” He shrugged, sliding past you towards where the aprons were hanging. You gasped when you felt his calloused hands momentarily on your waist. Was he doing this on purpose?

Pulling yourself together, you started to brief him on the Sunday Roast Chicken recipe, passed down through generations in your family from a battered, old notebook. He responded to each instruction with a “Yes, ma’am,” and followed them to a T. You had to give him brownie points for his eagerness to please.

“No, Leon,” you scolded gently. “That doesn’t go there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Could you stop calling me ma’am?” You laughed. “Makes me feel old.”

“You’re one to talk.” He winked at you while placing the baking tray on the correct level. “Are you this bossy in the bedroom?”

You nearly spat out the water you’d been sipping on. “Uh, I-I don’t know?” Clearly, you wanted to bury yourself in a hole right there and then.

“Guess the proof is in the pudding,” he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear every single word.

“Wine?” Your shrill voice cut through the air like a knife, as you tried to change the subject, shoving the bottle directly into his chest.

“Oof.” It stunned him that he felt winded by the accidental blow. He gripped the bottle as you eyed him apologetically. “Easy there, girl.”

“Sorry, my bad.” 

You brought over two empty glasses while he helped to pour out the wine, your fingers grazing against his wrist as he handed you a filled up one back. A part of you wanted to prolong the caress, but you held back, unsure of where you stood with him. You could feel the weight of his burning gaze locked onto yours as he toasted to “neighbors and new beginnings” before drinking from his glass.

You almost missed your cue, taking an extra beat to raise your own glass to your lips as you dragged your eyes from his. The wine on your tongue tasted like the sweetest you had ever sipped. Maybe it’s the company? you questioned as you watched him drop his glass down on the counter behind him. You clutched your own tightly, feeling the atmosphere constricting as he refused to look away.

The only thing you could hear was the tick of the kitchen timer and the beat of your pulse in your ears as the silence stretched between you both. Besides the smoldering of his eyes under his snowy bangs, he gave you nothing, so with desperation, you racked your brain for something, anything, to keep the tense undercurrent at bay.

With a moment of clarity, it hit you as you dropped your own glass down and glanced over towards the far side of your kitchen. The single table sat there, usually a crowded affair when your friends were over but plenty big for just two. If nothing else, setting the table would keep you busy and your mind from wandering.

With a plan of action in place to set the table, you went to shift from your spot only to be met with another obstacle. Of all the places he had to be standing in your kitchen, it was just typical he was in front of the cutlery drawer. Still, even if you had to get close to him, it was meant to be a friendly dinner after all. The almost kiss was probably just in your mind and you had been overanalyzing too much. All he had done that night since was bring over your phone like a good Samaritan and help you cook dinner like a friend.

You walked over to him, noticing that despite your approach he didn't move at all, seeming very content to have you come into his close proximity. You caught his eyes as they drifted downwards, and all of a sudden you realized the mistake you were making. Being this near to him was setting off the blush you tried keeping down, and you were sure he was going to notice.

“May I?” you asked as you stopped in front of him, a hand pointing at the drawer behind him. 

“Whatever you need,” he murmured, while not even moving a step away.

You blinked up at him, trying hard not to imagine what else he could possibly mean with those words. “The drawer. I keep the cutlery in there.”

Despite your explanation, he still didn’t shift, instead just staying where he was and watching you curiously. He had to wonder what you were up to, getting so close to him with that cute flush on your face, stammering out any old excuse. You didn’t need one at all, in his opinion.

“Oh.”

That one syllable sent a shiver down your spine. It was a mistake, a really, really bad one you decided right then and there. Just being so near to him, feeling the heat of his breath was making the ache to touch him that much more potent. You wanted to feel those lips.

You backed off from him in a hurry, fighting the flush that you felt flooding your skin as you bumped into the oven, clanging the pan you had on top that had been left out to help you prepare the dinner. You found your excuse to keep him at bay, still needing to finish preparing a few final bits of the meal.

“Help set the table?” you quickly asked him with your voice a tad too high. “Plates are up there.”

You hoped it worked, sending him a good distance away from you in the kitchen to arrange the table while you got your overheated body under control.

“There’s that bossy thing again,” you heard him mutter as he opened the cabinet you had pointed to and reached up to grab a couple of plates, though his words sounded strangely disappointed to your surprise.

You tried not to look over, but in the end it was in vain. You were blessed by the sight of his shirt ridden up, once again showing off his ridiculous physique and making you feel like melting all over again.

Tonight’s dinner was going to be a long one.

━━━━━━━━━━━

In spite of the earlier faux pas, you were thankful that having dinner with Leon passed by without any further embarrassments. He proved to be quite a decent conversationalist when he wanted to be, and you found yourself relaxing into the laughter and various points of discussion you both shared. You were enjoying yourself so much that you hadn’t realized how fast time had flown, and it was suddenly nearing midnight. Suffice to say, you were feeling rather disappointed that he would need to leave so soon.

“Good food, good wine, good company…” He stood up, helping you to clear the dishes from the table. “What more could a man like myself ask for?”

You beamed at him, letting your guard down for once. He was being such a gentleman that you couldn’t help but open your mouth and blabber out the next statement before thinking. “Could I get you anything else? Dessert, or-”

You caught yourself, pausing abruptly as your stomach sank. Why did everything you say sound like an innuendo?

He placed the dishes down where they were and made his way slowly and assuredly towards you. For some reason, you were frozen on the spot, unable to scamper off and hide within your own home without looking like an absolute fool in front of the man you had been secretly crushing on this whole time.

“You know, I can see the gears turning.” It was as if his voice dropped an octave lower. “Right here.” He tapped his fingers lightly against the side of your head, giving you a slanted smile.

“Now that you say it,” he continued languidly. “Dessert would be nice.”

He curled his hand, so that his knuckles brushed along your cheek towards your jawline, as you shivered from his touch.

“Whatever you need,” you echoed his previous sentiments softly, as you lost yourself in his deep blue eyes, now ablaze with a fierce hunger. All you could do was stare into them, watching as they drew ever closer. Then you caught it, the moment they left yours to drop down lower. Your lips parted as you inhaled sharply, your heart pounding as you felt the ghost of his breath.

You thought that he would pull away at any second, that it was just another misunderstanding. That was until you felt the first light brush against your lips. Your mind went blank, struggling to keep up until it hit that he was kissing you. All those prior moments with him flashed across your mind, and none of them had been innocent after all.

His hand slid to rest against your cheek, pulling your face closer to his as his lips caressed your own, coaxing you to reciprocate as you finally gave in to the yearning that had constricted you for so long. His lips were softer than you thought they would be, but warm as you returned the kiss with an indulgent sigh.

You felt him smile against your mouth, as you trailed your hands along his arms towards his shoulders, pressing your body against his in an effort to deepen the kiss. He grew bolder, licking across the slight parting of your lips, as if seeking permission to continue. Whimpering in pleasure, you allowed him to move his tongue to meet yours, drawing in his taste again and again.

As you started to gently grind into him, he broke away for air, pressing his forehead against yours, panting heavily against your swollen mouth. “Delicious,” he breathed, before clamping his lips at the side of your neck, sucking and nibbling at a particularly sensitive spot.

Tugging the collar of his shirt tightly, you rasped, “How about a second helping?”

The next thing you knew, you were lying on your bed, slick with sweat while Leon rocked his hips against yours. You savored the fullness of him in you, grasping onto his ass as your nails dug into his skin, leaving angry, red marks in the process. “More,” you whined, in a tone that came off unintentionally on the side of demanding rather than pleading.

He gave you just what you asked for, with sweet nothings coming from his lips along with comments about knowing you were going to be bossy. Testing the waters brought you both much further than expected, but neither of you could complain.

The rest of the night went by in a dreamlike haze. At some point, you rode him on top, his large, chafed hands groping your breasts, as you tilted your head back and cried out until your voice was hoarse. At another, you leaned your back flush against his chest as he thrust into you from behind, groaning incoherently into your neck. 

You took things in your own stride, resting when needed and going again when it was comfortable to do so. Even though he had set the pace slower than you were used to, it was no less intense. In fact, everything felt deeper and more passionate, like you were melting into one.

Every release he brought you was an ascension that sent you beyond, flooding you with a euphoria that made you desperate for him. It left you addicted, your body craving more and more of his touch each time until nothing but the feel of his skin and the shifting of the sheets could be comprehended.

The final time was intense, filled with a feeling of pure bliss that you knew you would be dreaming about for days as you clung to him in desperate abandon. His name fell from your lips in a gasp, and in turn he muttered yours.

Splayed across his damp chest, you traced the lines of his freckled, weathered skin, as he stroked your hair contentedly. “Best dessert I’ve had in a while,” he grunted, intertwining his fingers with yours and bringing your knuckles to meet his lips. “Michelin star worthy.”

You swatted his hand playfully, giggling at his quip. It spurred you on to tease him back. “So, will I get an actual ride next time?”

He chuckled heartily, though he didn’t miss a beat. Age was never an issue, he still had his wits about him. “’Course, sweetheart.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “If you tell me what a GILF is.”

[elevenenthusiast]

The Irony Behind the “Cliché” Argument Against Harry and Hermione

One of the most common arguments I see against Harry and Hermione as a romantic pairing is that it would’ve been “too predictable.” You know the type: “It’s nice the male and female lead didn’t end up together for once,” or “It would’ve been so cliché if the hero and the heroine got together,” or even worse “Hermione would’ve been reduced to just a love interest if she ended up with Harry.”

But here’s the thing: that argument kind of falls apart when you actually look at the relationships in Harry Potter — especially Harry and Ginny’s.

Because if we’re really talking clichés, Harry and Ginny is the actual trope. The classic “hero gets the girl.” Let’s go back to Chamber of Secrets Ginny gets possessed by the villain, and needs to be rescued by him. It’s very knight-saves-princess. That’s their dynamic in a nutshell. And later, after barely any meaningful development between them they’re suddenly together in Half-Blood Prince. It’s not earned through shared struggle or slow emotional build-up — it just happens. And somehow that isn’t considered cliché?

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione have one of the most emotionally rich relationships in the entire series. They’ve been through so much together pain, loss, war and yet there’s this quiet loyalty that holds between them. Not once does Hermione turn her back on Harry, even when it would’ve been easier. She’s there through his worst moments, and not out of obligation or duty, but because she chooses to be. She understands him in a way that’s rarely acknowledged not just as “The Chosen One” or a symbol, but as a person.

And what frustrates me is how people downplay the dynamic between them by saying “they’re not compatible.” As if compatibility has to look like constant flirting or textbook romantic tension. In reality, Hermione’s brilliance her love of learning, her deep empathy, her sense of justice is exactly what steadies Harry. She’s not just “the smart one.” Her intelligence isn’t just about knowing spells or solving riddles. It’s emotional and moral. She sees the bigger picture, pushes Harry to be better, and holds him accountable when no one else does. She isn’t a strategist in the same way Ron is in the books (who deserves more credit for that, by the way), but her mind is grounded in principle and truth the kind of wisdom that Harry leans on, over and over again.

And that’s what makes the argument that “she’d be downgraded as his love interest” feel hollow. If anything, Harry and Hermione would be a relationship built on mutual respect, trust, and emotional history. Not a prize to be won or a plot device. Hermione would never be “reduced” to anything least of all by Harry. Their bond was already strong before any romance was ever considered, and that’s what makes it powerful.

So no Harry and Hermione wouldn’t have been the cliché. They would’ve been the quiet, earned, slow-burn connection that made actual sense. The kind of love that’s built on years of seeing each other through the worst and choosing each other anyway. And in a story that’s ultimately about love, loss, and growing up, that would’ve felt like a real, meaningful conclusion not a trope.

[cherryblossombankai]

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: After Gale accidentally witnesses you in a vulnerable state, he tries to make up for his mistake. It goes better than he expected.

Warnings: fem!reader, masturbation, accidental voyeurism, bathtub sex, penetration, creampie, pining, so much pining

“For fuck’s sake,” Gale growls under his breath as he stares at the purple ceiling of his tent. In his pants, his cock is once more rock-hard and throbbing. Even the feeling of the fabric of his underwear brushing against his cock feels like too much stimulation. He’s already panting pathetically as he tugs at the collar of his shirt. 

All it took was one fleeting thought of you, how it had felt when you kissed his cheek earlier that night, and now he’s fighting the urge to jerk off. He wants you so badly it’s driving him insane. Although the year since he last allowed himself to be released is certainly not helping matters. He’d been quite convinced that the excitement of arousal would be enough to set off the orb. As he’s learned a bit more about it, that conclusion doesn’t seem accurate. However, he’s not brave enough to test it. 

The air in his tent feels thick and suffocating all of a sudden. He peers through the opening to make sure nobody is out before crawling out of his tent. He sits outside on one of his cushions, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, then reaches down to adjust himself in his pants. 

He enjoys the cool night air on his heated skin. He even closes his eyes to savor the moment, then he hears it…A soft, gentle moan in the night. 

Did that come from your tent?

His heart pounds in his chest. Fighting off the images of you laying on your bedroll, thighs spread and shirt open while you touch yourself, he opens a book to distract himself. 

“I’ve become a pervert in my old age,” he murmurs. With simple magic, he lights a lamp and then tries to read the book. He swears you seem to be moaning louder. 

“Gale,” you pant softly. His ears perk up at the sound of his name being said so sweetly. 

Meanwhile, in the confines of your tent, your eyes are tightly closed and your fingers eagerly rub at your swollen clit. You imagine it’s Gale touching you, whispering sweet words in your ear. You developed a crush on him quite early on, but lately, it’s developed into an almost feral need for him. 

He crawls over to the entrance of your tent. His moves are slow and easy as he pushes aside the flap. When he spots you on your bedroll, he has to bite his lip to stifle a moan. 

“Gale!” you shriek upon seeing him, throwing the blanket over you to cover your lower half. “What the hells?” 

Gale shakes himself out of the haze he’d found himself in and averts his gaze, “I apologize!” 

He backs away and then sprints back to his tent. His body feels tightly knotted. As he sits down upon his bedroll, he’s panting like an aroused animal. Leaning forward to hold his head in his hands, he utters to himself what a fool he was for snooping. 

The next morning, he can’t look at you. Across the camp, he’s watching you begin gathering your gear, preparing for the day’s adventure. When you look up at him, his cheeks burn and he clears his throat before approaching. 

“Shall I join you today?” he asks, hope tinting his words. 

“Oh, I was going to ask Lazael to accompany me,” you blush, looking down at the ground. “We’re going to check out some ruins!” 

“Ah! Ruins! Who knows what manner of magic you might stumble upon,” Gale’s eyes twinkle with excitement. “I must press you once more to consider allowing me to accompany you.” 

You flash him a sweet smile, “Not this time, but I promise I’ll bring you a gift if I find anything magical.” 

Gale’s smile fades as he watches you turn and walk away from him. He knows why you’re distant. He fucked up…Badly. He doesn’t know what he expected to happen when he had looked in your tent. Perhaps some perverse part of him had clung to the fleeting hope you’d offer your pretty hand to him and invite him to your bedroll. It was a foolish notion, one he spends most of the day beating himself up over. 

“Damnit, I am Gale of Waterdeep! I can fix this,” he utters to himself as he slams closed the book he’d tried to distract himself with and stands from the stone bench he’d been resting on. 

“Oh, talking to ourselves now, are we?” Astarion teases him gently. 

Gale looks at the spawn, who sits upon the cushions by his tent mending one his shirts. “Merely offering myself encouragement,” he brushes off the comment. 

When you arrive back to camp, you look defeated and forlorn. Your skin is matted with dirt and blood, thankfully not your own. Gale approaches with a steaming bowl of stew he’d prepared for you. 

“Dinner, my lady?” he offers. 

“I’d rather have a bath,” you sigh. “But the stew will do.” 

“Ah, not to worry. A bath can also be arranged!” 

You smile softly, finding peace in his presence in spite of everything else. You take the bowl from his hands and take the seat he offers you at his tent. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t find anything,” you say as you begin eating. “I know I promsied to bring you back anything magical I found.” 

Gale chuckles softly, “It’s quite alright. I’m just glad you’ve returned in one piece.” 

“Thanks,” you smile softly and continue eating the stew. It’s delicious and earthy. 

Once you’re finished eat, Gale takes the bowl from you. When he comes back, he offers you a hand. 

“Now, I believe I promised you a bath,” he smiles softly. 

“Indeed you did.”

You follow him as he leads you to a secluded clearing in the forest, far from camp. With a few acts of magic, he conjures a hot bath for you. Then, he conjures a partition and a seat for himself on the other side to allow you some privacy. 

“Go on then,” he smiles as he takes his seat. 

“This is amazing, Gale! You’re the best,” you kiss his cheek quickly then wince when you realize how filthy you are. “Sorry.” 

“No need for apologies,” he smiles kindly.

Behind the partition, you undress carefully before sinking into the warm bath. Gale’s ears perk at the gentle, pleasured sigh you release as the hot water soothes your aching muscles. 

“It feels nice,” you say happily. 

“I’m glad,” he clears his throat. “Is there anything you need?” 

You smirk as you think of what to say. Then you lean over the edge of the tub just enough to look past the partition. 

“You could join me,” you offer. 

Gale instantly is on his feet, “Are you certain?” 

“Yes,” you look up at him as you sit up in the tub to reveal your chest. His eyes are on your breasts immediately. His cheeks flush as he looks away. You giggle before you continue, “After last night, I think we both need this.” 

Without more prompting, he begins shedding his clothes. You eye him appreciatively. Your eyes trail from his chest to his soft tummy, then focus on his trembling hands opening his trousers. He blushes at the boldness of your gaze. He braces himself for your reaction as he opens his pants and pushes them down. You gasp and when he looks up you’re biting your lip in a way he finds so damn cute. 

“Come to me,” you beg. 

He sinks into the tub in front of you. Greedy hands reach across the water to grab your waist and pull you closer to him. 

“I’ve dreamt of this moment,” he whispers before leaning in to catch your lips. 

His kiss is sloppy and needy from over a year of pent up need. He’d forgotten the pleasure of kissing another mortal. Soft, warm lips; the eagerness that makes kisses clumsy, such things can so easily be forgotten by the gods and therefore by those who find themself bedded with one. 

“You are beautiful,” he whispers against your mouth. He relishes the warmth of your breath against his mouth. 

“I think you’re beautiful too,” you whisper, your voice filled with reverence. Such tenderness is something he’s not used to. You cup his cheek, soothing your thumb along the corner of his mouth and then over his laugh lines. You lean in to kiss him again.

With tentative slowness, he cups your breasts. You moan into his kiss as he kneads the supple flesh, his thumbs dragging across your nipples. Fuck, he’s so hard already he feels like a fool. Just the thought of you is enough to arouse him, so to now have you this way makes him feel rabid. 

“Please tell me if I go too fast,” he says between kisses. “I don’t want to ruin this.” 

“You won’t.” 

You move closer to straddle him, eliciting a soft gasp from him. His hands move down to squeeze your ass gently. You grind against him, dragging his hard length against your core. Gale whines at the contact. 

Your lips crash into a heated kiss again. Your tongues rub together in sensual exploration. Tender fingers tangle in his hair, tugging ever so slight to make him whimper against your mouth. His hips buck against you, seeking more friction. 

“I need you,” he pants.

Lifting yourself slightly, you reach down to grasp his cock gently. You guide him to your entrance. 

“S-slow down,” he whines. “I haven’t touched you yet. You’re not ready…”

“I’m ready,” you assure him. The need has been stewing within you for so long, you’re more aroused than you thought possible. You sink onto him slowly, moaning as his thick cock fills your core. 

“Oh gods,” he grips tightly on your ass. “You feel…divine.” 

You press your forehead to his as you begin riding him. Water sloshes out of the side of the tub from the movements of your bodies. The night is quiet except for your heavy breaths mixing with Gale’s quiet whimpers. He leans back against the tub and looks at you as though you’ve gifted him the night sky. 

“Gale,” you moan. “I’m so close.” 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. 

He reaches between your bodies and begins rubbing your clit, infusing a bit of Weave in his touch to enhance your pleasure even more. The feeling is intensely pleasant. Your skin grows hotter with lust as you quicken your pace. When your orgasm washes over you, it’s like the Weave from his fingers surges through your entire body. 

The way your walls tighten around him sends Gale over the edge before he has time to warn you. His nails dig into the fat of your hips, and he throws his head back as he fills you to the brim with his seed. 

“Damnitall,” he whines. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” 

“It’s okay,” you caress his chest as you slow yourself to a stop until you’re seated on his lap. He clings to you, holding you close to his body. 

“I love you,” he pants softly as he rests his head on your breasts. “I adore you. Every inch of you, every breath you take is a gift to me and I’ll be damned to think I deserve it.” 

“I love you too, Gale.” 

You hold him against your chest until the night feels cold. You pull away, sharing nervous smiles with him as you both get out of the bath and dress again. 

“May I sleep with you in your tent tonight?” Gale asks shyly. 

“And every night after.” 

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Forest Hid Out (Angst) (18+)

SAINW!Raphael x reader

A/N: Friendly reminder that Same As It Never Was takes place in the year of 2035. That’s 11 years from now. It aired in 2005… That means we’re over half way there… Also, this took me way longer to write than I thought it would, lol.

Takes place in 2033. Raphael is 43, reader is 20.

Warnings: Long, loss of loved ones, masturbation, age difference, tent sex.

You had never experienced a world with a clean sky. A world in which the streets were free for everyone to walk, and no one had to fear the all watchful eye of the leader of the Foot. Your mother however, had. As a child, she told you many stories about a distant time, where the world was safer. Where she and her friends had the freedom to be young, feel their emotions, fall in love, and have a family if they felt pleased to do so. That was the time in which your parents met each other, and that was the time in which your parents met each other. Where they feel loved and dreamed of having a family. But oh, how cruel the world could be at times.

When Shredder took over in 2005, your parents holded any plans for a family. All resources went to survival. There was no way they would bring a child into a world like this. But in 2013, what little luck your parents had left ran out. Your mother fell pregnant, and nine months later, you were born.

The next 20 years were all about survival. You and your family tried your best to stay under the radar, keeping out of any trouble that could cause danger. Your parents made a great deal out of staying away from anything that could be a resistance group, out of fear of what dangers it could bring to your small family. But sadly it wasn’t enough to keep the three of you safe…

Somehow your family managed to get on the bad side of Shredder’s guards. You were not sure how, but none of that mattered now, because it was all gone. The little small hole you and your family had called home was gone. They had burned it all down. And your parents. Gone. Just like your home. Gone.

That night you ran fast. Faster than you had ever done before. You ran and never looked back, remember what your father had told you. Never turn to look at the people running after you. It will only slow you down. So you never looked back, running head first into the thick unkempt forest that had grown around New York City. And that was where you met Raphael.

You had been hiding in the forest for days at that point doing what you could to survive. But you soon found that surviving in the forest was way different than surviving in the crumbling parts of New York City. Raphael found you, hydrated and hungry, tired from days of running and hiding. When you first saw him, you were terrified. You had heard rumors about mutants, but you never thought that you would see one in real life.

Though Raphael didn’t smile much he was friendly to you. He gave you food and water but kept a distance from you. He wasn’t much of a talker and only asked you a few questions. But at the end of the day, he allowed you to follow him back to his camp further into the forest.

Raphael didn’t change much during the first few weeks you stayed with him. He seemed grumpy and at times avoidant, never answering questions about himself. But one thing he did do, was slowly but surely teaching you how to take care of yourself in the forest. As the days and weeks went on, you and Raphael slowly developed a rhythm of life. He would go out and look for food, while you stayed back in the camp, making sure everything stayed in order. But with each passing day, you learned more and more about the man, who you seemed to be living with now. You soon learned that Raphael rarely slept when you did. Each night, as you went to sleep by the campfire, you found that Raphael stayed up. You once asked him about it, to which he mumbled an answer about keeping watch, and with that you decided not to press him any further. But as you went to bed each night, laying down on the thin mattress in the broken tent with the dust blanket Raphael provided you, you found yourself staring at him in secret. Your eyes scanning his features as you wondered about him. His past. His thoughts. His history.

You and Raphael rarely stayed at one place too long, packing up camp every few days before finding a new place. At this point you were getting used to it, letting Raphael decide where to set up your camp next. But there was this one time, you would never forget.

You set up camp not far from a river and followed the routine as usual. Raphael went out to look for food, while you stayed back unpacking the rest and setting up. Nothing out of the ordinary, not even when you ate together later that day. It wasn’t until he decided to go to the river and get cleaned, that you found yourself shocked. You had always known that Raphael was muscular, but when he took off his jacket before diving into the water, you truly realized how toned his was. And that was when it all started running down hill for you.

Suddenly you couldn’t look at Raphael the same way anymore. The way his muscles flexed when he worked out, the grip on his sais when he trained, his small huffs and puffs of annoyance when he walked through the forest with you trailing behind him. It didn’t take long before you started imagining things. How his hands would feel on you, how his huffs and puffs would sound right next to your ear, or how that well toned body would feel above yours. These thoughts slowly build up over time, and before you knew it, you found yourself pleasuring yourself back in the camp, to the thought of Raphael, who at that moment was out on another food hunt.

Raphael soon began to notice a shift in the way you behaved around him. You grew more nervous around him, avoiding his eyes more than usual. For some time he wondered what was going on with you. But he would soon figure out why…

One day, as you were walking through the forest, carrying your tents and bags, Raph spotted something in the sky above you. A drone. Raph was quick, grabbing you in an instant, dropping you and him into a bush, out of view from the drone. It was here, in the bush, closely pressed up against Raphael, that your mind started racing once again. The thought of the danger up ahead, and the thought of Raphael’s hand going just a little lower, touching you in the place you have been dreaming about for so long. And it was here, as Raph watched the drone pass by, that he caught a certain scent emanating from you. That was when it clicked for him. It was why you started acting strange around him.

That night, as you and him set up camp at a new spot, Raph kept an extra close eye on you. He walked every step you took, each move you made, and each time you looked at him, his eyes meeting yours, he could smell it. Strong and sweet. He knew what you were thinking now.

As days passed on, your scent seemed to become a constant for Raph. He started noticing it strongly from the tent, whenever he returned from a food hunt. You no longer just avoided his eyes, but your cheeks gained a light blush every time. And Raph would lie if he said it didn’t do something to him, and soon, he himself started imagining things.

At first, Raph was ashamed by these thoughts. He was double your age. He had taken you in when you were lost and alone. It felt wrong to be imagining you in the way he had started to. But with your aroused scent lingering all over the campsite, and even sticking to Raph’s nostrils whenever he ventured outside the camp. Your light blush, or the small sounds you made when you had a hard time setting up the tent. The tent where Raph could only imagine you laying in and pleasuring yourself. And with that, it didn’t take long before Raph found himself out on a food hunt, pleasuring himself under a three out in the lonely forest, imagining how it would feel to have you wrapped around him instead of his hand.

You and Raphael started dancing around each other on a daily basis, stealing small glances, hoping that the other didn’t notice. This, only fueling both of your thoughts and imaginations, playing out those fantasies on your own whenever you were alone. You, whimpering in a tent, begging imaginary Raphael to make you cum with his tongue, while Raph found himself out in the forest, crouched down on one knee, thrusting into both hands, the thought of how your body would bounce underneath his with every thrust. Both of you could only imagine how it would feel to have each other. But soon, none of you would have to imagine anymore…

You and Raphael had once again set up camp at a new location, having walked a whole day in order to get as far away from your last camp as possible. And you did not set up your camp one minute too early, as the sky soon opened up, letting the rain pour down over you. That sent both you and Raph in a hurry, hiding inside the one and only tent you had - your tent - waiting for the horrid rain to pass. But you soon found that this wasn’t just a quick downpour, but a long one, lasting for much longer than you had expected. This left you and Raph alone together in the small tent. The tent that only you had been using for the past two months, while he would sleep out by the fire. The same tent in which you had been pleasuring yourself to the thought of Raphael, almost everyday at this point. And Raphael could smell it. The scent was strong, hitting him like a wall of bricks the moment he entered the tent. And for the first time since you entered Raphael’s campsite, he found himself nervous around you.

You and Raphael sat in silence, waiting for the rain to pass, trying to focus on the sound of it hitting against the outside of your little dry place. Both of you sat at a distance from each other, trying to avoid any time of contact, both with the eyes and physically. But that did not stop your mind and eyes from wandering to him. You watched his hands, as his middle finger nervously tapped the side of his thigh. You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering how that finger would feel inside you, moving with the same speed in which it tapped against his thigh. And with that thought, you felt your pulse quicken, along with a rush of wetness between your legs. And Raph noticed this, straight away. How your breathing got heavier, and how your arousal somehow grew even stronger. And how your eyes were glued to his finger. Raph did not even have to put two and two together. He knew exactly what was going on.

Looking at you, Raph caught your eyes immediately, his eyes telling you everything he knew. And that knowledge sent shockwaves through your body, pricking at every nerve ending, somehow making the wetness between your legs grow even stronger, making Raph’s nostrils flare, a small low sound vibrating in his chest. He was churring. He was enjoying your scent.

You did not know where the sudden courage came from, nor what happened with that eye contact between the two of you. But suddenly you found yourself sitting on Raphael’s lap, your legs hooked around his hips, your lips connected in a heated kiss, your hands roaming each other’s bodies, the way you had been dreaming about for so long. It was as if your bodies worked per automatic, your hips grinding against each other, seeking friction and pleasure.

Raph’s jacket was off in an instant, his strong arms coming to wrap around you, holding you close, letting his tongue slip into your mouth as you parted your lips to let out a moan, which you gladly accepted.

Your hands moved to your pants, unbuttoning them in a haste. Raph chuckled at your urgency, finding your actions almost adorable, watching the desperation he had dreamed of you showing him. And the sound of him chuckling made you shiver, more sounds escaping you. Never had you thought that you would actually get to hear Raphael chuckle.

Raph helped you get your pants off, before throwing them somewhere in the tent, ready to be worried about later. But at that moment, all he wanted to think about was sure sweet core, the heat radiating onto his thigh.

Cupping your chin with one hand, Raph pulled you in for another heated kiss, while his other hand rested on your hip, playing with the hem of your underwear. You hummed against Raph’s lips, as he used his hand to push you down onto his thigh, making you grind against his thigh muscles. You let out a small moan when you felt just how toned his thigh was. Hard as a rock.

Raph growled at the sound of your moan, his hand grabbing a hold of your underwear before pushing them damn over you bum. You once again lifted yourself off of his lap, in order to get them off of your legs. Raph watched as you got them off, feeling his hard member presse against the inside of his cloaca. For a moment he wondered if he should take his time with you. There was no saying when the rain would stop, so the two of you could be having all the time in the world. You two weren’t busy.

Raph helped you back onto his lap where you intently connected your lips once more, biting lightly onto his lip. Raph made a sound like a wounded animal, his hands grabbing onto the plush flesh of your thighs. You wrapped your arms around Raph, holding onto him as you grinded against him once more. With one hand Raph let go of your thigh in order to get into contact with his cloaca, pulling his large member out, aching and throbbing just for you.

“Are you ready?”, Raph asked, tapping the head of his penis against your soaked entrance.

“Yes”, you whispered, your voice already giving up on you out of pure need.

“Good girl”, Raph smirked, taking in the feeling of you shivering against him. He knew you would like being called his good girl.

Keeping a firm grip on your hip, Raph lined himself up with your entrance, before ever so slowly pushing into you, stretching you out around him. You let out a louder than intent moan, resting your forehead against Raph’s shoulder as he slowly pushed you further down onto his member, letting out a few curses over how tight you were.

Once Raph was as far in as he could go, he let you sit on him for a moment, getting used to his size inside of you. The only thing he could hear at that moment was your whimpering moans, along with the sound of the rain against the tent.

When Raph was sure that you were ready, he held onto your hips with both hands, before lifting you slightly up off of him, before pulling you back down, entering you once again. You cried out in pleasure, latching on to Raph’s shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. Raph increased the speed until he had you bouncing on his member, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing around you.

You and Raph were far from quiet, moaning and groaning, happy to finally be living out the fantasy you had been having for so long now.

“Harder, Raph”, you moaned, leaning a little back from him.

“Harder?”, Raph asked, a devilish smirk on his lips. “I will give it to you harder”.

The next thing you knew you were laying on your back in the tent, your shirt pushed up over your chest, your legs hanging over Raph’s shoulders, swinging with every thrust he plowed into you. That was exactly what you needed, the tightening feeling in your abdomen growing stronger and stronger. You were getting close, and Raph could feel it. He could feel how the muscles of your cunt tightened around his member, pushing himself closer and closer to his own high.

You started arching your back, your legs tensing on Raph’s shoulders, your eyes shut as your high came closer and closer, until you finally came on him. Raph let out an animalistic growl, his thrusts becoming erratic as he helped you ride through your high, getting closer and closer to his own. It didn’t take long before he came, pulling out of you shooting his pearly white ropes onto your abdomen, letting out a moan of relief.

“Shit”, Raph sighed, laying down next to you. “That was exactly what I needed”. Rolling onto his side, Raph wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, not caring about the last bits of him still resting on your lower stomach. “I hope it wasn’t too much”.

“Not at all”, you smiled, curling up against him, hiking your naked leg up over his hip. “It was exactly what I needed too”.

“Good”, Raph said, resting his head back against the tent floor, listening to the rain that was still falling. “Because with the rain still going, we won’t be going anywhere any time soon”.

You couldn’t help but giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips. “That’s fine by me”.

[kradogsrats]

How Does Your Garden Grow: Terry's s4-s7 Slow-Build Arc

So, Terry. A character who could be objectively called the goodest among the main cast. We've been waiting through four seasons to really figure him out... or I have, at least. Maybe everyone else got him from the start.

Anyway, Terry's arc is a very slow burn that only comes becomes clear in s7, because it's revealed primarily through two sequences of scenes that echo each other—the first in s4, and the second when s7 finally comes back to tuck that s4 sequence into bed and kiss it gently on the forehead. This means that in order to really grasp how Terry develops, we need to examine and compare those sequences, both to each other and in the context of what we see of Terry in the intervening time.

God's Most Plant-Based Clown...

Fun fact: Aaron Ehasz apparently named Terry as his favorite character at SDCC 2019, during the s3 hype tour [citation vague]. He probably didn't expect that it would take another two and a half years of real time for us to actually meet Terry, but them's the breaks.

We don't really know a lot about Terry for the first few episodes of s4, where he's suddenly thrown in as a new main character alongside all the ones we had already known and loved for years. We can see he's a little anxious and awkward, but he lights up with confidence in his dynamic with Claudia to the point that he'll discuss the smell of his own farts in front of her dad. He has an incredible amount of compassion for Viren, repeatedly offering up deep emotional vulnerability even though Viren radiates nothing but aloof dislike for him. He seems to have no problem with Claudia's dark magic, such as the pufferbat breathing spell, even when the credits go out of their way to remind the audience that hey, those pufferbats had families, too.

He's obviously good for Claudia, which (as intended) immediately makes us turn around and question whether Claudia is good for him. He is, after all, an elf, and she's a dark mage. She has already done, by her own admission, things she "never imagined [she] would be able to do"—and this from the girl who once killed a baby deer with her bare hands. Does Terry not know about these deeds? Is she using him? Is he secretly a nihilistic sadist beneath his perky, easygoing exterior?

He's just a mystery wrapped in an enigma rolled up around a chewy marshmallow center, then dipped in crushed-up pretzels (since nuts are an allergy risk).

However Dangerous

But Terry does reach what we can clearly see is a crossroads of development fairly early in s4, when he kills Ibis to protect Claudia. This is a Big Deal—he immediately breaks down crying, to the point that despite being injured, Claudia prioritizes comforting him. Later, he's unable to sleep, instead crying over both Ibis and himself... or rather, what he had no choice but to do.

Viren, perhaps seeing a tiny sliver of his teenage self in Terry, offers him some advice regarding how to make peace with doing what you have to for those you love:

VIREN: But there is an aching pain mixed with love that you feel in these moments. In the name of love, you may perform acts so unforgivable... you will never forgive yourself. TERRY: Please, how do I live with this? How do I deal with these feelings? VIREN: I will tell you how. TERRY: Yes! Please, I need to know.

Of course, he's still Viren. Fatherly advice isn't exactly his strong suit. He also technically hasn't had a full night's sleep in two years.

Now, the writers could have left it at that. It's a good scene. It's a good character interaction. It sets up like 90% of Viren's remaining arc—as the first appearances of both "I had no choice" and "however dangerous, however vile"—and a not insignificant part of the entirety of arc 2, itself.

But they don't, and that's where it really becomes about Terry, because the next time he and Viren are hanging out (in s4e7, titled "Beneath the Surface" in an example of having zero chill), he brings it up again. He respectfully tells Viren that he's given it a lot of thought, and what Viren proposed isn't what he wants to do. He doesn't even say Viren is wrong, just that it isn't right for him:

I think what you're trying to say is... Is that I should stop having feelings. Well, I'm not going to do that. No way, I-I'm gonna be strong enough to do whatever I need to do and have feelings.

This is, in a way, Terry affirming his true heart—he's not going to give that up, even if letting go of the compassion that made killing so devastating to him (and probably narrowing his understanding of who and what is worthy of it) would make things easier. He's going to be strong enough to not have to do that.

It's not a coincidence that the very next scene for them includes Terry coming out, because both are about Terry's chosen identity.

This isn't only about Terry being trans—what he's saying here is essentially, "I know who I am, and I am who I choose to be. I won't change for your or anyone else's approval."

Viren's response, which I previously always found kind of baffling, is actually perfect:

Like, as responses to someone coming out... it's not awful, and it definitely sounds like something Viren would say. But just like Terry is affirming more than just his trans identity, what Viren is actually doing here is acknowledging the strength in who Terry has chosen to be—someone who is (I remind you) strong enough to "have all the feelings." Someone who can both act on his love for individuals he's close to, and retain his deep compassion for everyone else. Viren isn't going to try to change him, or convince him that he'll be happier another way—both because he's very, very tired and has no investment in Terry being one way versus another, and because I genuinely think some very small part of him is like, "god, I wish that were me."

Of course, what's being ignored here is whether what Terry wants to be is even possible.

... Fighting His Vegan-est Battles

So about that. As s4 winds down and we progress through s5, we obviously see a lot more of Terry, and we get a much better grip on exactly what his deal is in the dynamic between him and Claudia and dark magic:

This scene shows us several things. First, the compassion of Terry's true heart: he feels for Rayla's grief, despite the fact that she was, by all appearances, 100% prepared to cut his throat a full... ten seconds ago. Second, that Terry is at least superficially okay with Claudia's dark magic because he believes in her reasons: the only times he calls her out on her actions are when he feels they don't have her love for her father driving them—namely her tormenting Rayla and later the water dragon. And third, that Terry actually disconnects himself from Claudia's choices at the most basic level: he doesn't suggest she go back and correct her behavior, though he's presumably glad that she does. He's very much a bystander to all of her actions.

Like, he very obviously loves Claudia. We see this in his quiet, consistent care for her—anticipating her needs, focusing on her wellness when she disregards it, calming her down and/or cheering her up, even just carrying her shit around. (Like, her staffs! Both of them!) For him, it's entirely about her as a person, and a person who is fundamentally good, as all people are. She's a girl so full of love that she'd tear herself apart for it, if Terry wasn't there to pick up the pieces. He spends all of s5 making sure she doesn't have some kind of exhaustion-driven breakdown.

Then we hit s6, which is a series of crucial turning points for Claudia, that Terry... also unconditionally supports her through.

Which would be beautiful, except that Claudia's turning points tend to include thing like straight-up murdering what was, if not a child, then at least the equivalent of the family's weird but beloved dog.

Now, I don't think chewing her out over that would have been the right (or productive) thing to do. Really Terry handles her breakdown in probably the best way possible, all things considered. But after that, he treats her questioning everything she's ever believed with a degree of passivity that like... I guess would be good for a therapist, but not necessarily someone you love and have watched hurt themself with their own choices for two years straight.

CLAUDIA: Please, Terry. Tell me what to do. TERRY: Claudia, I can't. Only you can see your own deep truth. Only you can decide the path you're going to walk. You won't be alone. I'll clear out the thorny brambles if I see them, I'll hold your hand as we trudge through wet, mucky leaves. But... you have to choose the way.

Again, he's not strictly wrong, and it's a beautiful sentiment... but he offers no input whatsoever when she's weighing things like "When my dad left, I thought he lost his mind" versus "He seemed so strangely hopeful. So certain." He has no problem claiming Viren obviously found peace in s7, so it's not that he doesn't have an opinion. He just seems to not want to influence her on principle.

Maybe that's because he knows Claudia is so easily influenced and pins her identity entirely to external things or people, and he doesn't want to be another one of those. Which is valid. However, taking this position (or lack thereof) also conveniently absolves him of any responsibility for the choices she subsequently makes—they're her choices, after all. If she winds up hurting people, it's not like he could have stopped her. He'll hold her hand, as if doing so leaves no blood on his own.

This is something that starts to change at the end of s6 and into s7, mostly because suddenly Terry isn't the only influence on Claudia—if he wants her to be making her own choices in a vacuum, he has to balance out Aaravos, who has zero qualms about manipulating her when she's extremely vulnerable. Terry gets a bit more assertive to combat that manipulation, especially when Aaravos is being extremely obvious about it...

But really, by then it's too late.

However Vile

Finally, in s7, we reach the denouement of everything that has subtly been building around Terry. We find out that he has a true heart, a feature everyone is born with but most eventually lose:

More on that, and Ezran, in my eventual true heart meta.

Aaravos then sets Terry up in a very specific way—he sends Terry to find two feathers from a shimmercrow, one large and one very small. Terry happily complies, relieved that the request wasn't something "weird or creepy." However, as always with Aaravos, the task is half straightforward and half a manipulation. He uses the large shimmercrow feather to give the half-completed primal stone flight for its journey around the world, but the small feather...

Aaravos has Terry bring him to where the feathers were found, where he knows there will be both an adult crow and chicks. He brutally murders the mother crow in front of Terry, while calmly explaining how they will use her dying fear and pain to open the In-Between. It's only a key. A tool.

In the ensuing confrontation, he also drives home to Terry that a) it's too late to easily sway Claudia away from him, and b) it doesn't matter, because Claudia is also like this. Claudia uses him. Claudia tells him half-truths, ostensibly to "protect" him, but really to protect herself from him deciding to leave her.

Aaravos has a definite agenda here—he needs Terry's influence, the influence that makes Claudia question whether it's right to hide things from him, removed from her. Either Terry's true heart has to go, or he does. It's time for him to, shall we say... "get a grip":

The true heart is a gift of childhood. For a few wonder-filled years, we each have innocent eyes to experience the world's beauty in a simple way. I have seen generations of humans and elves accept the darkness that lurks in all of us beside the light. There is no black or white, only shades of gray. We must all carry complexity. But please believe me that there is beauty in this burden. Your heart will be a little heavier. But now, there will be no more half-truths, Terrestrius.

Just like in s4, it has been suggested to Terry that he let go of the identity he has chosen. The identity where he's committed to having all the feelings—crying for Ibis, pitying Rayla, mourning Sir Sparklepuff. Doing "what must be done" is positioned as now being incompatible with who he is.

And again, Terry is not going to give up who he is:

Not for anyone. He knows where the lines he has drawn are, and he won't move them just because it's Claudia who has crossed them.

So Terry leaves—but there's one thing that Aaravos has done that goes unstated, and while it's maybe not a major factor (compared to all the other major factors) in Terry leaving, it is the critical factor in his growth:

He has made Terry complicit. Without Terry, Aaravos would not have found and killed the mother bird... and he has been complicit all along. He couldn't stop Aaravos this time, but how many similar tragedies could he have stopped when it was just him and Claudia?

And so here, for the first time, he goes back to make things right. He didn't go back for Ibis, or for Rayla, or anyone else Claudia hurt in the name of love, or who he, also in the name of love, allowed her to hurt. But he goes back for the baby shimmercrows, to comfort and care for them now that their mother is gone, and he goes back to people who (rightfully) consider him an enemy, to help them stop Aaravos.

Just to make sure we really get it, they even have him say it out loud:

Should Bloom a Week or Two Early

Anyway, I think they did something really beautiful and complex with Terry, in that there's no question he loves Claudia—they took three entire seasons to show us how much he loves her, at her highest and lowest points, selflessly and unconditionally. With Callum and Rayla slowly easing back into their peak perfect romance during the same period, his love for Claudia is also not treated as less real or important. We all knew it was probably more than a little doomed, but he's not foolish or wrong to love her.

He doesn't even stop loving her, or decide she's no longer good enough for him to love. He leaves because in order to keep loving her, he has to also love himself. He won't change who he is to stay with her, because he's fought too hard to become that person. With Callum willing to give up everything he is for Rayla at a moment's notice—something that really works only because Rayla would never ask him to, and in fact is staunchly against it—Terry having a solid identity and refusing to compromise it is a reflecting alternate perspective on love.

He's also the most emotionally mature and objectively good person in the cast, but ultimately his arc shows that neither of those exempt him from doing harm passively or even actively—and growth, from that point, is acknowledging that harm and working to heal it. In a story where most of the beloved characters have done wildly questionable things or are defined by their maladaptive coping mechanisms for deep personal trauma, Terry being so generally stable and (all things considered) normal, but still able to develop and grow is actually pretty special.

And, of course, now that he's grown... he's ready for a road trip even wackier than "my girlfriend and I hauling around her dad's formerly-dead body on our way to break a fallen god out of prison."

[pretty-mik-97]

When ‘Dark Romance’ Is Just an Excuse for Abuse: How Cry or Better Yet Beg fails Matthias as a Love Interest (Rant Included)

Oh, and do I have a lot to say about this mutha fucka right here. ESPECIALLY with the most recent chapters on Webtoon.

I ain't go lie, I half expected Cry or Better Yet Beg be like a slow burn enemies to lovers historical romance fiction. But I gotta ask all the Matthias x Layla shippers and Matthias fans:

HOW IS MATTHIAS VON HERHARDT THE LOVE INTEREST AND WHY ARE WE ROOTING FOR HIM?! 👁👄👁

Like I never see this guy show or express any romantic that doesn't involve him being a bully and humiliating and abusing Layla because apparently he enjoys making her miserable and cry.

And people are like: He doesn't know how to express himself because he never experienced love so it's all so new to him.

Umm, no bestie. That man has no love for ANYTHING at all, period. Especially not for Layla, you know, the WOMAN HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE IN LOVE WITH!

And when people rightfully call out and criticise Matthias as a character and the story as a whole, they get hit with the: It's a Dark Romance.

Umm, no, sweetie. This is not a dark romance. It's abuse cosplaying as a dark romance. There is NOTHING romantic about a man who enjoys bullying, verbally and emotionally abusing the woman he's supposed to be in love with, and sees her as less of a human being.

Matthias himself actually admitted and told Layla TO HER FACE why he despises her when she asked.

You want proof?

BOOM! RECEIPTS:

Again, I ask: WHY ARE WE ROOTING FOR THIS MAN. WHY?!

Where is the romance coz I ain't seeing shit!

And that brings me to my next point. The argument that people hate Matthias because he's not acting like "the typical green flag love interest in fluffy romance stories."

Lemme just show y'all two comments I found on reddit for reference.

Comment 1:

It's okay to read stories where the antagonists regret their actions or face consequences for their actions. I love me a good revenge story and a story where the antagonists get their long-awaited comeuppance. But here's the thing: Matthias has not shown ANY FORM OF REGRET AND REMORSE FOR HIS ACTS AND HAS NOT FACED ANY CONSEQUENCES.

Like this dude, THREW Layla's hat (that Bill bought for her) into the lake where she had to get it and almost drown in the process coz the sistah can't swim.

He killed birds KNOWING she would come to bury them to lure her in the forest so he could talk to her instead of approaching her like a normal person.

He swiped her shoes while she was dozing off waiting for Kyle and told Layla that he was going to give them back if she CRIED. On top of belittling her and telling her that her only purpose is to BE NOTHING.

He made her make a bouquet of roses (I think) for him only for him to make her make another bouquet over and over again because they weren't up to his standard (but I personally think this mutha fucka did it to be petty AND be a prick).

And he stepped on her hand (I think) when she was picking up her coins after spending time with Claudine when she was TWELVE YEARS OLD. An EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD at his big grown old age at that time bullying A TWELVE YEAR OLD.

And not ONCE has he shown ANY remorse or guilt nor faced ANY CONSEQUENCES for his actions. As a matter of fact (spoilers), he gets rewarded for all of the heinous things he did to Layla by getting with her in the end.

And that basically makes the argument of "reading and fantasising about toxic relationships where the toxic person feels guilt" pointless.

Comment 2:

Yes romance and dark romance are two different things. Dark romance explores taboo, morally grey, toxic relationships and unequal power dynamics between the characters.

HOWEVER, for it to work as a dark romance, the characters need to be morally grey, have internal conflict with themselves, and some level of character development and character depth.

And our boy Matthias has NONE OF THOSE. He's just an asshole who gets off from making Layla cry and beg. He's not a misunderstood character who's battling with his feelings or whatever. He knows EXACTLY what he's doing, and he does not care.

Plus there's supposed to be ROMANCE in it. It's in the name. Dark. ROMANCE. The key ingredient that's nowhere to be found in Cry or Better Yet Beg.

Common arguments made in both comments:

People hate Matthias because he's not acting like the typical green flag male love interest in "fluffy" romance stories.

Nope. Most people don't hate him for not acting like the green flag love interest. People hate him because he's an asshole and a bully period.

These Stories Exist Because People Enjoy Them/Liking Dark Romance Doesn’t Mean I Want It in Real Life/If You Don’t Like It, Don’t Read It

Yes, there's an audience for dark romance, and people eat it up. Yes, just because you like reading dark romance doesn't automatically mean that you want it in real life. And yes, people shouldn't read dark romance if they don't like it.

But that's not going to make any dark romance stories ESPECIALLY Cry or Better Yet Beg above criticism (VALID criticism at that).

If anything, stories like Cry or Better Yet Beg are an insult to people who have experienced trauma and abuse because the victim ends up falling in love with their abuser and the abuser gets away with it.

Are THESE the type of stories we want to push into the mainstream?

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Dec 21st

~*~

1. Hello! Today, I'm in the mood for a fic that explores the kinky love life of wangxian. I prefer it to be 40k and above.

The whole fic doesn't have to revolve around it but I would like it to be an important part of the story. I prefer it to be canon universe but it can also be an AU.

We know that Wangxian are pretty kinky in canon so I would like to read a fic that tackles all of their kinks in a healthy way and I would also like them to talk about it and communicate.

Thank you! @broodyelii

u could check out some of their fics (ScarlettStorm)

~*~

2. Hello! I hope you're all having amazing days and I'm sorry for bothering again so soon, but I just need to ask. Does anyone knows any fic about transmigrator!LWJ? I just stumbled onto the concept and am obsessed. @lostandmessedup

🔒 Once In a Lifetime - CQL-IRL transmigration shenanigans. series by Anonymous (T, 41k, WangXian, RPF, Transmigrator LWJ, Attempt at Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Crack, Crack treated half seriously, Friendship, Developing Friendships, Dimension Travel, after 14 chapters I want to clarify that LWJ is more of a dimensional traveler than a transmigrator, he didn't die. he's alive and well lol, Happy Ending, Transmigrator WWX, Attempt at Humor, Married WangXian, WangXian are married and they make it everyone's problem)

🔒 a kick-start to falling in love by wereworm (T, 7k, WangXian, Transmigrator LWJ, Modern, WWX licks blood, that's a content warning but also just a statement about WWX, LWJ is the transmigrating cultivator and WWX is the uni student caught in the rain, WangXian's intricate rituals tm, Meet-Cute)

💖 the roots by thelastdboy (E, 30k, WangXian, MM/WQ, MM/MM's Husband, Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Post-The Untamed, Canon - MDZS & The Untamed Combination, Transmigrator LWJ, Parallel Universes, Dimension Travel, Time Travel, Desperation, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Post-Canon, Heavy Angst, Mental Health Issues, Grief/Mourning, Abandonment, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, WQ Lives, Found Family, Cottagecore, Rogue Cultivator WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Bittersweet)

~*~

3. Hi, this would be for ITMF: I just finished I Carried This for Years by LadyOfVengeanceAndWar and omg, I'm obsessed? (too bad its still a WIP) I'm desperately in need of more yummeng siblings role reversal, or yummeng siblings personality swap. I guess even !ylz lwj is fine too if it's good. I prefer long fics (and preferably nothing explicit, but I'll take anything atp)! thank you!!

Keep Holding On by abCEE (M, 316k, JC & WWX & JYL, WangXian, Canon Divergence, OOC, Demonic Cultivator JYL, YLLZ JYL, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Dynamics, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Yunmeng-Jiang Sect, Fall of Lotus Pier, JC gets the support that he needs, WWX knows what self-preservation is, Role Reversal, LWJ will do anything for his WWX, Twin Jades of Lan Dynamics, Good Uncle LQR, Gusu-Lan Sect, WangXian are married and have a son, Ghost General WQ, Sunshot Campaign, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artistic License, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Established Relationship, PTSD, role reversal but not entirely YL centric)

🔒 Tarnished Jade by AlyxRae (T, 66k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, LWJ is the Yilling Patriarch, WWX is Hanguang Jun, Not Everyone Dies, Temporary Character Death, Normal Yilling Patriarch story arc, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Slow Burn, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses, Demonic Cultivator LWJ, LWJ Whump, POV Alternating, Sunshot Campaign, Mutual Pining, Soft LXC, Dysfunctional Jiang Family, Good Sibling JYL, Smitten WWX, but he doesn't actually realize it, Cultivation Sect Politics, smooching, JC is Bad at Communicating)

Some Flowers Bloom Only At Night series by punisherbeauty (T, 98k, JC & WWX & JYL, JC & JL, JC & LWJ, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JYL & JL, JYL & LSZ, LJY & LSZ & JL, Female WWX, Male LWJ, JC Needs a Hug, YLLZ JC, Ghost General WN, Protective WQ, Role Reversal, LWJ & WWX Are LSZ's Parents, JYL Lives, BAMF JYL, JZX Lives, BAMF WWX, Sect Leader JYL, Fluff, Angst, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Slow Burn, Self-Indulgent, Hurt/Comfort, Protective JC, Demonic Cultivation, Demonic Cultivator JC, Blood and Violence, Blood and Gore, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Good Sibling JC, Soft JC, Drama & Romance, Family Drama, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Depression, Physical Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Blood and Injury, MXY Deserves Better, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Angst and Feels)

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4. ITMF... Are there any fics (wangxian preferably but I'll take all recs) where the cultivation world wanted LWJ's death after the burial mounds, but LXC and/or LQR begged them to reduce it to the punishment he got instead? Bonus points if LWJ doesn't know about it. @thegertie

~*~

5. Hii this us for itmf would be forever grateful if someone could recommend fics like this snarky but supportive lan qiren about wangxians marriage hehe @bunnycoffeeumcat

in-laws hate it! get a grandbaby with this one weird trick by lazulisong (G, 1k, WangXian, Accidental Baby Acquisition, although more like, its free grandbaby)

as it should be by Sienne (T, <1k, LQR & WWX, pre-WangXian, Time Travel, Drabble, Crack, Fanart)

~*~

6. hi!! for the itmf, can i have your favorite watching the series fics? preferably with no crossovers with other mxtx books

💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not Rated, 279k, WangXian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, Watching the Series, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, CQL Verse, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF NHS, it's what he deserves, check chapters for specific warnings)

Teen Project to Change the World by animeloverhomura (Not Rated, WIP, 841k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Watching the Show, With a bit of the Manhua and Book thrown in, BAMF WWX, Fix-It, JGS is his own warning, Attractive WWX, Homophobia, disturbing imagery)

The Characters of MDZS Watching the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by emma_screams (M, 166k, WIP, WangXian, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Characters Watching Their Series)

unhappy stories with happy endings by Last_for_Hell (M, 30k, WangXian, Memories, Memory Fic, Kinda, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, sexual content maybe, References to Torture, PTSD, Characters Watching Their Series, kinda, but not entirely, very light consensual non-consent)

Mo Dao Zu Shi: The Musical by Loveable_Psychopath (Not Rated, 117k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-it, Song Fic, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking)

Your Tragedy, Your Song by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (T, 42k, LQR/WRH, JGY & NHS, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Characters Watching Their Series, basically they watch their future, But through songs, exposed secrets, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Songfic, Drama, POV Multiple, the author makes use of animals to represent characters, JGS is a shit, WRH is highkey so done with WC, let LWJ take care of WWX, mild body horror, the author accidentally makes wenqi and wangxian battle for the spotlight)

~*~

7. Hellour! So, for the next itmf, i have been seeing that trend "we listen and we dont judge" everyhwere and thought how wangxian would do in it. So basically a fic where they are forced to say their fantasiesfor eachother or share them with eachother (could totally be all crack or all angst i love both)also, any era works just no wip or abo fics please @just-troy0-0

I think these work for 7, although the truth sharing happens as a result of curses or spells in all of them:

🧡 Brilliant Mistake by brooklinegirl (E, 53k, WangXian, Modern AU, Sex Pollen, Mpreg, dubcon, Modern Cultivators, Dubious Medical Science, 🔒[Podfic] Brilliant Mistake and Brilliant Love (the sequel) by raitala)

beneath six layers of silk by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 12k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Getting Together, Confessions, Curses, Embarrassment, Vulnerability, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Honesty, Communication, beneath six layers of silk by darkredloveknot [podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea))

Rarely Pure and Never Simple by thunderwear (Not Rated, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Truth Spells, Curses, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Post CQL, Getting Together)

Words Spilling From Your Lips by Hellosweetie99 (M, 4k, WangXian, truth curse, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Post-Canon, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones)

~*~

8. ITMF a fic where lz is a DILF 🙏

ink and honey by mirrorofprinces (T, 1k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute (kind of), Finding Love at the Farmer's Market, Rattoos, Single Dad LWJ, Support your Local Beekeepers)

Phishing by Lovewave_Aesthetic (E, 11k, WangXian, Modern, Smut, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, Size Kink, Size Difference, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, Enthusiastic Consent, Age Difference, Daddy Kink, WWX being bratty and verbal, LWJ being a quiet but kinky dilf, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Hair-pulling, Loss of Virginity, Light Bondage, Trans Male Character, Trans WWX, Hackers, Wangxian with vaporwave aesthetics, Non-Linear Narrative)

A Matter of the Heart by Nomme_dePlume (M, 54k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Light Angst, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Strangers to Lovers, Attempt at Humor, BromCom to RomCom, Masturbation, Dry Humping, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Mild Language, Falling In Love, Time Skips, The falling in love happens during the time skips don't @ me, Road trip with your childhood hero who is now a DILF, WWXs hate-hate relationship with doing things for his own happiness, Story is an excuse for the author to write a cheesy airport confession scene)

~*~

9. Hey! First off thanks for all the work you do. Secondly, I have been itmf a fem!LWJ/fem!WWX fic with actual plot(I’m okay with E rated) without either WWX or LWJ having past relationships with other people( or if they did it’s irrelevant). Thanks in advance and have a good day/ night wherever you are!! @neverforgetyou-1

so little time and i'm way off track by defractum (nyargles) (E, 25k, wangxian, modern w/ cultivation, case fic, amnesia, dub con, fuck or die)

cold hands, warm heart by martyrsdaughter (M, 8k, Female WangXian, Post-Canon, Gender or Sex Swap,BCase Fic, Ghosts, Time Loop, Banter, Fluff and Angst, Married Life, for wx liberating ghosts is part of the domestic bliss, Vaginal Fingering, Light Bondage, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, LWJ and WWX Have a Non-Con/Rape Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Explicit Depictions of Suicide, mild bloodplay)

🔒the dinosaur artist by varnes (T, 12k, Female WangXian, Bringing Up Baby AU)

Happy for Now by ScarlettStorm (E, 75k, Female WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Rule 63, Cisswap, There Was Only One Bed, romance author au, Adhd wwx, service top LWJ, Pining, Smut, Comedy, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, horny yearning, furtive masturbation, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Sex Toys)

~*~

10. Hi! for the next ITMF are there any sun/moon spirit aus? like Shine Brightly, That I May Glow by TheLegendOfChel

~*~

11. Hi!! My biggest thank you to the admins for running the absolute treasure of a blog and to everyone who helps with finding fics and recommendations!!

ITMF fics where:

A) Jiang Cheng understands how disfunctional and bad his parents are towards both Wei Ying and himself and actually does something about it to protect his brother/best friend and their relationship. Kudos if it is not only about Madam Yu being abusive but also about Jiang Fengmian being avoidant and careless towards all of them, and doing stupid shit like overlooking Jiang Cheng in favor to Wei Ying in a really stupid and oblivious way. I crave clever, protective and badass brother Jiang Cheng!

B) Madam Yu understands that she is a bad paarent figure towards Wei Ying and her children and does something to make it better. Maybe someone crudely opens her eyes on her actions and words' consequences, maybe she has a moment of clarity, or some accident shows her how her children and their sect brother are beware of her / protective / ready to do anything for each other and that Wei Ying is actually amazing and has horrifyingly low self-worth. She understands that she was wrong and needs to change to save her relationship with her kids and her charge. Kudos if the way to forgiveness is difficult and painful, but at least somehow successful in the end!!

Thank you ❤️ @shellennium

11A)

The Stranger Inside My Son by Mademoiselle_A (T, 79k, JC & JFM, JC & YZY, JC & WWX, JC & JL, JC & JYL, WangXian, JC & JGY, Time Travel Fix-It, But from an outsider's POV, JC is So Done, JFM's A+ parenting, YZY's A+ Parenting, Both are not great but this is not a bashing fic, JC-centric, But from JFM's POV lol, POV Outsider)

The Threads of Fate by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 108k, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Not Everyone Dies, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, Protective LWJ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Pining LWJ, WWX in WWX’s Body, JC & WWX Reconciliation, is it reconciliation if WWX doesn’t know they were estranged?, Oblivious WWX, WWX Deserves Better, WWX Deserves Happiness, Siblings JC & WWX, Supportive JYL, Protective NHS, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comic Book Science)

11B)

❤️ And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together, And Time is But a Paper Moon [PODFIC] by sami, Winterstar1412, [Podfic] Cold read of And Time Is But A Paper Moon by kisahawklin, multiple translations available)

🔒❤️ the thing with feathers by RoseThorne  (G, 43k,wangxian, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Fear, Recovery, Sharing a Bed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Sexual Tension, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect)

~*~

12. Hi lovelies! Long time lurker first time requester. I'm in the mood for a fic where wwx's or lwj's relatives try to keep them apart, with good or bad intentions, resulting in angst and misunderstandings. Recently I read a fic where LXC's well-meaning intervention (temporarily) broke up wangxian and now I crave that mineral. Could be modern AU or not, happy ending preferable, and ideally under 50k.

All The Years Lost by UseMyMuse (T, 26k, WangXian, Teen Pregnancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Single Parent AU, Forced misunderstandings, Forced miscommunication, Mpreg)

The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani (M, 46k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Old Friends, One Night Stands, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forgiveness, Second Chances, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies) Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, mention of miscarriage, Birth Trauma, amniotic fluid embolism) These are both mpreg. I know of others that fit the request but they're significantly longer than the requested under 50k.

hi! i was wondering if the asker of #12 in the latest fic finder could maybe tell us the fic where LXC’s well-meaning intervention broke Wangxian up? thanks !!

~*~

13. Hi I hope you can help me found a fic. A dark wangji who have no problem killing anyone who try to hurt weiying. It can be past or future. Just want a crazy over protective wangji to wei ying. @sadritsuka12

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ)

🔒 Flawed and Free by Vrishchika (E, 18k, WangXian, WIP, Major Character Death, Dark LWJ, Dark LXC, Dark Gusu Lan Sect, anti JC, Character Death, Temporary Character Death Time Travel Fix-It, JC bashing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

Somewhere Sits an Empty Throne by Siamesa (E, 19k, WangXian, Major Character Death, TGCF Fusion, Gods & Goddesses, Ghosts, Romance, Vengeance, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark LWJ, Grief/Mourning, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst with a Happy Ending)

🔒 Something is wrong with A-Zhan! by HeloSoph (M, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Dark LWJ, Morally Gray WWX, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiangs, WWX is a Lan, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Engaged WangXian, Blood and Violence, a lot of people die, LQR Metaphorically Qi-Deviates, because of, Shameless LWJ, LQR Tries, to fit into the following tag, Good Uncle LQR, Semi-Public Sex, or at least wangxian’s version of it, Scheming NHS, POV NHS)

The Dark and Stormy Clouds series by lordmediator (E, 24k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Angst, Dark, Dark LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Violence, Blood and Violence, YLLZ WWX, Hurt WWX, Protectiveness, Protective LWJ, Jealous LWJ, Sad WWX, JC Needs a Hug, Good Sibling JYL, Protective JC, Good Sibling JC, Protective LXC, Dark LXC, Supportive LXC, Supportive JYL)

~*~

14. Hi! For itmf can I have fics where Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are WWX's parents? E.g. fics like Hua Xianle. Thanks so much!! ☺️ @no-blg

🔒 the hearth series by eccentrick (G/T, 65k, WangXian, HuaLian, Found Family, fluff with plot, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Disabled Character, Ableism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, slow burn found family, Adopt WWX, Married HuaLian, Post-Canon TGCF, Kid Fic, TGCF Spoilers)

it takes a village by lariyats (T, 13k, HuaLian, HC & WWX, XL & WWX, Family Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Child WWX, hualian adopts wwx au, Snowball Fight, Shapeshifting, Festival, Ghost Peppers, Case Fic section, Growing Up, 4 part narrative structure, it’s seasonal)

Narrative of Strength by erosophic (T, 75k, HuaLian, WangXian, HC & WWX, XL & WWX, FX & MQ & XL, JC & WWX, FengQIng, WIP, Canon Divergence, HuaLian Adopt WWX, Found Family, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, XL takes WWX as a disciple, Protective XL, Protective HC, Adoption, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, QR being QR, Serious Injuries, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence)

Just one person is enough by Sarah_R (T, 11k, HuaLian, HC & WWX, XL & WWX, WangXian, HX & WWX, SQX & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hugs, Past Child Abuse, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, MDZS canon divergent, LZ & WY will still fall on love!, And marry!, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Literally WWX getting adopted by all the gods and demons…, AND GETTING ALL THE LOVE HE DESERVES!, His still a self sacrificing idiot though…, HC best dad!, XL best mom!!!, WWX protection squad, Falling In Love)

🔒 there's a CHILD in my shrine?? WTF!! by corduroyserpent (G, 2k, HuaLian, HC & WWX, XL & WWX, Fluff, Crossover, HuaLian adopts WWX)

~*~

15. Thanks for running the ITMFs! Do you know of any fics where mxy!wwx plays wangxian on dafan mountain, lwj recognizes him, and jc strikes him with zidian, but breaking from canon the hit works and wwx is expelled from mxy’s body. Dealing with the aftermath of that- lwj almost got wwx back but now he’s gone again

None of them knew about the sacrifice ritual at this point, so for all jc/lwj knew it was a possession and zidian would work. So just something exploring that dynamic

~*~

16. In the mood for fic, where there is Lan Zhan possessed by some evil entity or yin iron or something. Fic where Lan Zhan is not himself and doesn't do anything evil willingly, but his possession his making him into different person. I wonder if there is such fic like that. No modern aus please.

old wounds, like hidden ghosts by wordsonpage (T, 2k, WangXian, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Dark LWJ, but like accidentally, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending) it's a short fic but old wounds, like hidden ghosts definitely fits the request

Clouded by diamondbruise (M, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Case Ficish, Curses, Dark LWJ, It’s a curse, Dubcon Kissing, Jealousy, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, no sex in this fic just in general)

~*~

17. Heyo, me again. Are there any fics where Jiang cheng and His huaisang are married and canon still happens? Like all of canon? The reveal of meng Yao and everything? Please let me know, thank you😁 @yasssbassss

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[pagesandpothos]

Hidden Gems of 2024

I read a lot of new releases in 2024 and many of those are really great books that have been getting a lot of well-deserved attention. There are a few however that I think deserve some more hype.

Here are a few underrated gems that I think deserve even more readers and much more praise. All of these are LGBTQIA+ and most are romantasy since that is what I enjoyed the most this year.

Sorcery and Small Magics by Maiga Doocy: As I've said many times, this is my favorite book of the year. If you love fantasy, queer slow burns, spells gone wrong, or the forced proximity trope then this is a must-read. There's no release date yet for book #2 but I'm hopeful we'll get a date soon! I can't wait to continue Leo and Grimm's story!

Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland: Alexandra Rowland is an author that most fans of queer books love, so this might be less of a "hidden gem" than some of the others on this list, but I'm still including it because I think it deserves even more attention. This is truly the funniest book I have ever read. I don't think I have ever had so much fun reading a book!

Shoestring Theory by Mariana Costa: This was one of the biggest surprises of the year for me. This is an excellent queer romantasy that has complex characters and relationships with an exciting time-travel plot. If you love complicated enemies-to-lovers stories, you should check this one out.

This Will Be Fun by E.B. Asher: is a sweet and funny cozy romantasy about a group of heroes who once saved their realm. Now, they're on a second mission after a decade of estrangement. This is a silly and fun time with two second-chance romances (one is sapphic). There's a great friendship storyline as well.

All The Hidden Paths by Foz Meadows: is a followup to the popular queer romantasy, A Strange and Stubborn Endurance. This is just as good as the first book with an exciting political plot, great development for Vel/Cae, and good new characters.

Someone You Can Build a Nest In by John Wiswell: A delightful and dark fairytale that somehow manages to be both gruesome and feel like a cozy fantasy at the same time. There's a sapphic monster romance with an asexual human woman that is incredibly sweet.

The Crack at the Heart of Everything by Fiona Fenn: Is a terrific redemption story about two men who fought for the villain's side in a devastating war. Orpheus and Fenrir have an amazing rivals-to-lovers story that starts as a little comic relief and grows into something truly heartfelt. The world-building feels like a cool blend of high-fantasy, post-apocalyptic, Dystopia, and even horror. This is a unique and adventurous addition to the queer romantasy genre.

Spitting Gold by Carmella Lowkis: A historical mystery that focuses on two sisters with references to Charles Perrault's The Fairies. It's about the two siblings' complicated dynamic and how every story has two sides. There's also a Sapphic love story involving one of the sisters.

The Sins on Their Bones by Laura R. Samotin: A dark and queer fantasy based on Jewish mythology. The last half of this book is so riveting and shocking. I truly had no idea what would be happening next.

Key Lime Sky by Al Hess: is a sci-fi romance about a non-binary character who witnesses an alien invasion. The main character is memorable and the plot is delightfully weird and fun. The romance is fantastic, with a seriously charming and funny meet-cute.

[callistodisco]

Here I'll throw ya one. On another blog, they were chatting about Raditz with a crush, and now it's all I can think about. In most fics I've read he boinks Reader/Whoever pretty fast (and those fics are amazing and I love every bit of it), but I have been super curious about what it'd look like for him to slowly open up to and get a crush. How he'd act and all that.

Would he be all tsundere and deny it? Would he try and woo us (and probably fail miserably)?

i literally love this?? brainrotting over it now Raditz my beloved <3 im gonna bsffr, this was a self-indulgent piece

Request Chungus ML Dragon Ball ML Raditz x f!reader Genres: Headcanons|Fluff|Romantic

Raditz With A Crush

With a human crush:

so first of all- you're human, he's saiyan, and he sees a problem with this (even before the crush)

so i read on the saiyan wiki that saiyan men LOVE strong women, so you're very feisty and will absolutely butt heads with him, no questions asked

at first he's annoyed like "the AUDACITY of this human to oppose me???"

but then it kinda becomes a thing between yall and he's like "man the audacity lol" and he finds it kinda hot

more time passes and yall spend more time together before it passes the territory of "hey, friends don't do that!" and like everyone points it out (yes he survived the piccolo beam :3 or the dragon balls brought him back idk you choose)

but everyone starts to point out the staring and how he oddly is nicer to you🤨hmmmmm

at first for a few months he's like "me? with a human? grossss"

but then Goku and Vegeta are like "humans are kinda goated, we literally have kids with them" so Raditz does some self reflecting

he realizes that he'd totally get with you if you WERE a saiyan so maybe the human barrier is kinda dumb

after this conclusion he makes it his mission to make you fall madly in love with him

every fic i've read of this man portrays him as a frat boy or sex god, and while i LOVE that for him, i'm a firm believer he's an awkward loser when it comes to romance

he flirts with you but in the saiyan way and there are lots of mixed signals

"fight me!" "no?? hEY-" he's already trying to attack you :/

he eventually learns humans are "lame" and do "boring" things for romance, like movie dates or eating out (cringe, right?)

"h-hey human! wanna go to that p-place you keep talking about?" you're thinking for minute because?? THE Raditz stuttered? crazy

but he takes it wrong and assumes you don't want to, so it's a 5min argument convincing him to go💀

similar scenarios happen for a few more months and it literally eats him alive how slow this is moving, it's killing you too dw

after like a year of human dates he starts ranting because you point out that he seemed kinda tense lately

"well i don't know what i'm doing half the time on this planet, i have to live with being the weakest of my race, i can barely stand to be next to you without burning alive-" he kept ranting but your mind blanked after you heard that

with a smile you began to poke him "you likeee me" the HUMILIATION on this saiyans face "you like likeee me"

not how he hoped it'd go, but you two are very happy together :3

With a saiyan crush:

pretty sure it was in canon lore the only remaining saiyans were male, so um, you're the only surviving female, yippee?

you have many suitors to choose from, but uh, most weren't very appealing

and tbh, Vegeta was never an option, you were a peasant or whatever, so he was grossed out🤮couldn't properly carry out the royal bloodline i guess

because Raditz and you were both weak by saiyan standards, you were paired together often, strength in numbers, right?

this crush developed much faster purely because you bonded over:

similar experiences in society and on the battlefield

near death experiences bring people closer than you think

this doesnt mean he acted faster or accepted it any quicker

he was in denial at first because "she's just a friend!" hmmm ok bud

you two started getting split from each other and working with different partners which is what left him to fully realize his crush

this was mostly due to his jealousy of you spending a lot of time with someone other than him, and that he yearned for your presence often while gone

after figuring out "oh! i like her" instead of telling you, he hid it

not because he was scared no, but because he wasn't prepared for the emotional damage when one of you died and left the other to weather frieza's tyranny alone. he didn't want to be without you or leave you alone in this place

it was after he went to earth and nearly died to Kakarot and Piccolo he was like "erm, i'm gonna say something"

after making it back barely alive he eventually recovered and told you how he felt

his story of how strong earths warriors are made you question staying with the frieza force until it was safe to leave

once Vegeta and Nappa decided to invade earth, you and Raditz tagged along secretly and started to live happy lives as the weirdos next door :3

idk if i'll ever create headcanons as lengthy as these ever again

btw i have 2 Raditz fics in the works tee hee

[sakuraryomen01]

Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Fem! Reader/ .12 [Tense, be warned]

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, OOC Sukuna, a tense morning/ fight with sukuna (there r a lot of swapping povs in the first half i'm so sorry if it's confusing), y/n going on a date-ish with Nickolas, seeing yuji again, make-up attempt by sukuna, falling asleep together on the couch

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 8.222k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20

a/n: Hey guys, it's been a while huh? Sorry for the long ass break (literally been a year since I last wrote, I think) but I hope I can make it up to you! I'm currently working on some things in my personal life that I hope will go smoothly, but since it's been so long, I decided to come back!! I hope to finish my Valentino fanfiction sometime soon along with Tiger Twins and Sex Exercise! Thanks for waiting on me, I've just been so busy... @@;

. . .

Thank you for reading this! Enjoy!

↞↞↞ ♡ ↠↠↠

Sukuna couldn’t remember much from the night before. Just some late night drinking, a few annoyed shouts in his dorm. And then blank. But, that didn’t explain what he was doing on someone else’s couch right now.

Your couch, specifically.

Not on it either, on the floor next to it. 

A cooking pot for curry or big stews rested next to his head. Smelling of vomit and the alcohol he had consumed prior to even making his way over to your place. His brow was covered in a cold sweat as he tried to move a few of his fingers, all of them asleep either under his warm cheek or on the carpet next to him.

What the fuck happened?

“Morning.”

Sukuna’s body ached at the meer tone of your voice, struggling just to roll over and see you standing over him. Hands on your hips, pj’s wrinkled and messy, hair done up in the messiest bun he’s ever seen before.

Competing even with a side hoe’s messy handlebar…

“You gonna eat breakfast or what?” You say, voice stern and annoyed. “I’m not going to wait for you all day, y’know? Got classes.”

“....what..?”

“Haa.. Say what again and you’ll end up outside.”

Now, while you seemed royally pissed off, Sukuna was surprised that you hadn’t kicked him out the moment he had… touched you. It was hard to really compute the situation from his spot on the floor, seeing as seeing the melons on your chest filled your top pretty good. Wonderful sight actually, he should probably stay on the floor.

“Up in five minutes.” With a stomp, you and your melons walked back into the kitchen. The smell of sizzling bacon, eggs and toast wafted throughout the dorm room. The warm aroma of waffles cooking in a fryer made Sukuna’s stomach churn.

From hunger or the hangover, he chose not to dwell on which.

Taking a good few minutes to actually sit up, clutching his veiny hand onto the couch’s seat for dear life, the fluffy haired punk took a good deep breath. His lungs filled with the sweet smell of a home cooked meal and instantly he began to drool. Salivating at what your cooking could possibly taste like. 

Probably bad, Sukuna thought to himself, eyes barely able to open.

“The omelet and waffles are ready!” The sounds of clinking silverware and plates followed made Sukuna’s stomach growl even louder. Pain developed from the intensity of the churning in his gut, forcing him to stand to his feet and trudge ever so slowly to the kitchen. 

The shuffling sound of his socks alerting you rather quickly to the ever nearing male that has entered into your dorm. His tall frame nearly towered over you, thankfully it wasn’t like Gojo. Spatula scraping against the skillet as you put four strips of thick bacon on the plates between the eggs, waffles and slabs of sausage patties. Both plates next to two large cups of OJ. Grease and grizzle dribbling down the sides of the meat and mixing with the oil from the skillet and egg.

“Grab one and sit,” You usher Sukuna over to the small coffee table, putting away the cooking supplies and grabbing your own plate. “I’m gonna put on some news.”

“Don’t put that on,” Sukuna retorts, following after you and resting himself on the couch with you. Muttering to himself as you flipped between channels, justifying that you only needed to see the weather for the next few days.

While it wasn’t what it used to be, the meal reminded Sukuna of back home. Days when you, him and Yuji would be waking up the morning after a sleepover at your house. The glaring but gentle glow of the sunlight pouring between the blankets of a poorly built fort by you with the help of your father.

Sukuna remembered the soft feeling of plush animals on his cheeks, the warmth of the rays beating down through the blanket that hung overhead. He remembered the feelings he had when he was young– how his head never felt like it sat right on his shoulders when he sat up, the way his chest ached when he looked down at your sleeping form. Always with your hair a mess and your face littered with wrinkle marks. 

That irritating throb he’d feel just by seeing you so calm and relaxed..

You were always the second one up, no matter which brother woke up first, you were always there to bug the other into an early wake. While your habits were always strange, Sukuna found them endearing. Following in your steps silently as you wandered about the large home you used to roam with your small hands clasped around a stuffed animal. The sight of small, yawning, eye rubbing you was too cute. Making Sukuna laugh to himself at how you contrasted during the day when you were full of energy; always wanting to talk to him about different flowers and the garden while he liked to annoy you with beetles he found.

I tell her to let go of the past and here I am reminiscing on it.

“Sukuna? Are you even listening to me?” You shout with your lips in a tight pout. Hair slowly falling from your frazzled bun, gracing across your shoulders and back. Sukuna’s maroon orbs trailed over your figure as his brows began to furrow. Strange, you did change a lot since your previous encounter.

Did you get a haircut recently? Maybe a new body wash.

“Sorry,” Sukuna replied with a flat tone, rubbing morning crust from his eyes and turning his attention to the television. Once displayed news was now playing some random sitcom, something you often watched back home with your folks. “I was thinking of something– it’s not important though.”

“You always think of something else when I’m talking to you!”

When you didn’t get a reply, you let out a strained sigh and continued scarfing down the remnants of your breakfast. Piling waffle, sausage and egg into a small sandwich-like bite, covered in syrup and butter. Like a starved animal you devoured every morsel that remained on your plate. Only stopping to take a sip from your cup of OJ every few minutes or so; it was a miracle that you hadn’t begun choking yet.

Surprisingly, Sukuna was taking his time to eat. Maybe he was too tired to be how he normally is around food: ravenous. 

After you had finished gorging on your meal, you stole a glance at your watch and stood abruptly face, startling the man on your couch. “What are you doing now?”

“I am gonna be late for my meet-up with Nick,” You start, hurrying to wash off the plate and fork in the kitchen, quickly drying your hands off on a rag. “We have to go over our project ideas again before finalizing one.”

Sukuna’s brow twitches up slightly, his gaze watching you as you rush around the apartment gathering your things. That Nickolas guy, right? Yeah.

Did you have to bring that guy up now?

“I’m busy eating, y’know?” He utters under his breath, currently chewing the length of a sausage link. Pressing his dark brows together in a mixture of a pout and glare. “Don’t try to ruin my appetite. Your food tastes good, for once.”

You let out a strained sigh as you make your way to the bedroom, grabbing your bag and shifting through your previous notes into a binder. Making sure to pack some additional pens, pencils and erasers coupled with some notepads. While normally you always rushed out to study, you were in a rather big hurry today.

To try and escape a talk about the previous night..

Last night flashed through your mind over and over. From the hot and steamy breaths to the harsh, yet gentle caresses across your body. It was hard to pretend, to ignore the events. Acting as if nothing happened between you both. Did he even remember what he did? With how wasted he was, you guessed not. How irritating.

“I don’t get him,” You mutter to yourself, pausing your movements. A million and one thoughts continued to flash through your mind. All that time, all his annoyance with you. Just to turn around and pull a crazy stunt like that. And for what? To lure you back in?

To make you think of only him? What kind of an idiot does he take you for?

After a few moments of pondering, you brushed it aside. No matter what you did now, Sukuna either didn’t want to talk to you, or pushed you away. What point was there in trying to rekindle something that he didn’t want in return? The thing you should’ve come to terms with long ago.

You finished packing your things before slinging your bag over your shoulder, heading into the living room to see Sukuna huddled over the sink. Washing the dirty dishes, scrubbing mindlessly at the sticky syrup on the plates and juice in the cups. It was an odd sight, and somehow sweet.

“Leaving?” He muttered, lifting a plate up to look over it. Voice low and unusually quiet compared to normal, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yes.”

The air became tense at the sound of plates clinking together in the dish holder. Running water turned from a constant stream to a pitter patter of droplets as Sukuna turned the sink’s knob, wiping his hands off on a small hand rag next to it.

“..Don't you,” Slipping a hand into his pocket, Sukuna let out a sharp grunt. His free hand coming up to scratch at his nape, disheveling already messy hair. “Don't you want to talk about.. it?”

“Not particularly.”

Shit, this is harder than he thought.

“I figured you'd wanted to, since you're always going on about wanting to talk to me. Not in the mood? Or is this new guy important now?”

The question was returned with a confused brow lift. “More important?” 

Sukuna never felt so frustrated and annoyed, even after such a good meal right in the morning as a hangover cure. He could tell something was just off. You were avoiding him, barely taking glances at him. Just focusing your eyes forward.

He didn’t understand what happened last night to get you to act like this with him, but frankly it’s irritating. Especially with how big this aching throb going on in his chest was. It was an odd feeling he hasn’t had for a while, and he couldn’t tell if it was just his regular annoyance with you or.. Something else.

“He’s not ‘more important’,” You say, shaking your head, squeezing the strap of your bag before turning to the door. “My education is and I’m trying my best.”

“Stop looking away from me!”

Before Sukuna could blink, his hand was wrapped around your wrist. Squeezing just enough for a numb throb to course through your hand. It was like a blur, one moment he was next to the kitchen counter and the next he was near toe to toe with your smaller frame. Eyes wide and brows furrowed, a small vein pumping across his jugular. Your expression only mirrored his, but with a mix of fear and befuddlement.

Don’t make that face with him.. He hates it.

“What’s gotten into you?” A mumble escaped your lips, your pretty little lips. The cute, plump flesh he’s imagined often recently. Along with your eyes, making him dizzy at how they’d roll like your hips; having him start to wonder what your dazed and blissed out look must’ve been–

 “Sukuna!”

Barely a flinch, just a quick blink of the eyes as his face relaxed, mirroring yours near perfectly. Taking in the moment, Sukuna looked down at his hand. The large, calloused palm and fingers grasped onto a smaller and delicate wrist. His own massive compared to yours, decorated with the black bands of his tattoo. So, so different you’ve become.

Without a word, Sukuna stepped closer. Refusing to release your wrist but instead letting his hand glide down to meet with yours. What was he doing? He doesn’t know. He thought he didn’t need you. He doesn’t. 

“Kid–”

“Don’t start with me!”

His marooned orbs lift from your connected hands, his fingers barely gripping onto yours. Why does he do this? It’s frustrating. Feeling his warm hands, how gentle they contrasted to the night before. How he’s behaving now to when you first reunited. The questions wouldn’t come out, the intensity only building brick by painful brick in your mind.

You can’t take this type of torture, this pain.

“I’ve had to deal with you since I first tried talking to you,” You start, feeling a burning sensation in your eyes, a sharp throb in your chest. Face downcast, your reddening eyes barely able to focus on the small connection between the both of you.

His hand reached for yours, holding your fingers like they were delicate porcelain unlike before. When he didn’t so much as let you care for him when he was sick. Reminding you constantly that every little kiss, gentle caress, it was an accident. That nothing he showed was true, pure.

The mere fact he came wobbling to your door the night before black-out drunk was proof enough that this was the same event all over again.

“You’re telling me not to get attached then turn around and kiss me! Tell me that it means nothing but you hold me close as if I’m going to run away from you! I can’t stand it, I can’t stand you.”

You could feel it, your heart tearing in two. The connection you craved was never there. It fizzled away like bubbles in a tub, gone after enjoyment for a little while. Too different to try, too different to change. If only you realized this sooner. It was only until you lifted your gaze to look up at him that you felt your tears dripping. You probably looked like some child having a fit, but it didn’t matter.

You were tired of it.

“All you’ve done is make me feel confused and upset,” It felt like venom saying these things. Poison. A poison meant to destroy your heart. So tense, it felt like it wasn’t beating at all despite its thunderous beat pumping in your ears. “I’m sick of feeling this. Before I knew you were here, it was easier. I was focused on more than my heart and how it felt all the time.”

“Brat.”

“I was able to pay attention in class, it didn’t feel draining being around people–!!”

“Y/n!”

In an attempt to pull you into his embrace, Sukuna grabbed your hand and brought you to his chest. Hooking his large arm around your nape to press your weeping face into his chest, to try and silence your cries. But you fought back, slipping your hand from his, breaking what little hope Sukuna desired to have between you. To think before he didn’t give even an ounce of a fuck when he first arrived.

That there was no care in the world before, but seeing you now. Seeing this hurt he’s caused, the shameful tears. It was enough to make him want to snap– to scream, to punch a hole through the wall –but he instead opted to bring you into his space. You coddle your head into his chest, trying to rub gentle and therapeutic circles with his thumb into your neck even at the awkward angle.

What does he do? What can he do?

He’s never felt so impulsed before, so inclined. It wasn’t in his nature to feel this petrified, this conflicted.

“Y/n, stop sobbing,” Sukuna muttered into your ear, trying to hold you in place as you continued to fight and squirm against his hold. “You don’t look as pretty when you cry like this.”

“I don’t care how I look to you!” You shot back, managing to push him away from your trembling form. Your hair became a mess before him. Looking more and more deranged by the second as you tried to calm yourself, failing all the while. “It’s not your place to look at me.”

A mix of surprise and shame fell across Sukuna’s brow, a clash against his annoyed gaze. You could tell he was unsure of what to do. He never was sure how to comfort someone, even you when you were a kid. His hands clenching and unclenching into fists be his sides, arms tensing with each flex of his muscles. His mind raced a thousand miles an hour at thoughts of what to say before they were fogged up by your hand on his jaw.

Yanking his face being pulled down to become eye level with you, your fingers digging into the meat of his cheek and forcing his lips to pout. Exposing a few of his teeth along with a sweat droplet on the side of his temple. He looked like a lost cub desperate for his momma to come save him.

Pathetic looking.

“I’m tired,” You repeated, your cheeks beginning to dry as the tears stopped. “I’m tired of the back and forth. Of embarrassing myself for you.”

Sukuna could see your mind begin to ease, to feel reassured with itself. The calm eyes despite the redness. It worried him. He had the right to worry, you wanted to let him go.

You released your grasp on his chin, his hand coming to rub at the pinkish imprints on his cheek, his gaze never leaving yours. Stuck in a stiff silence until you began to reorganize yourself, fixing your hair and wiping your eyes, your sniffles the only sound Sukuna could hear. “You don’t have to leave if you’re still feeling sick, but make sure to keep to yourself.”

Not another word was spared as you turned to the door, no glance back to see his expression as you opened the door like you’ve done before. Just a quiet exit of your home, leaving Sukuna and his muffled thoughts behind. While the ache in your chest was still present, there was no longer a weight on your shoulders. Letting you leave freely, to attempt to go back to your day to day.

Traversing down the hallway, looking for your phone in your pocket to call your classmate for a meet-up. To try and at least calm yourself before having to return to a, hopefully, empty dorm.

Sukuna was speechless, still, quiet.

Staring blankly at the door that blocked his sight from you, to chase after you. It was like an alarm in his head going off, feeling regret. Like the sting of bitter before the sweet, Sukuna wanted to run after you. Yet he stood in his spot, like a lost puppy waiting for his owner. Except it felt like it would be longer than a day, it’d be another 12 years before he could see you.

To see how you’d changed, to talk to you, to hold you in his arms.

Why didn’t he do that at first? Why was he so bitter before again?

“Brat..” He muttered to himself as if you’d hear it and come running back to him. How could he expect you to do that when he’s done nothing but blow you off that whole time. “Y/n.”

All those letters he sent, all of them with no responses. It seems so petty. He held onto that fact for so long, as if it was your fault. For trying to make a life for yourself, he held it on you. And now that he’s seen the extent of what he’s done, he’s left quiet in your home.

The muffle of the TV blasting some random show in the background to mix with the throbbing in his ears.

“..Don't.. leave again.”

↞↞↞ ♡ ↠↠↠

The soft hustle and bustle of the library was mind numbing.

It felt as if you were listening to music that wasn’t really playing, it was a hallucination of a melody. A sweet melody, one that you used to listen to but you didn’t know the name. Or if it was a meal you hadn’t eaten but you desired so bad, had no money to even afford to pay for it at a store you loved. Hard to pinpoint what feelings were swirling in your head, but they weren’t any good.

That’s why, when you heard the soft tap of your partner’s shoes and a small “hey” from behind you, your shoulders relaxed instantly.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Nickolas asked, his head tilted just enough to let a few strands of hair fall gracefully from his shoulder. His slight accent is like a sweet, honey contrast to Sukuna’s from that morning. “If you missed me so much you could’ve called.”

“Nick,” You mumble weakly, trying to hide the fact you had indeed missed him even though you met not so long ago. “It’d be rude of me to, especially when you’re busy.”

In the little time you had shared together you learned quite a lot about your new friend.

He was a part-time employee at his grandfather’s mechanic’s shop, though he did most of the work just to help as his real passion was cooking. Nickolas enjoyed making carne asada fries with sour cream and extra jalapeno on his lunch breaks at work whenever he had the chance. Not only did he love the good smells and the tasteful bites that came with cooking, he loved the math behind it, the science. Always thinking that his next meal could be a perfect equation each time, 

Pastries were a little harder for him, but Nick always loved a good challenge.

“I’m not so busy nowadays,” He said, interrupting your train of thought momentarily as he sat next to you. “Abuelo isn’t at the shop most of the time and I’m not allowed to run the place without him. He got sick.”

“Ah, sorry,” You reply, sitting up in your spot and bringing out your notes. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He just pushed himself a little too much one day and needs rest.”

You continued to catch up for a few minutes before Nickolas brought up the night before, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth at the mention of it, but you obliged. Telling him that Sukuna was still resting at your place with a hangover and to not worry too much, it was a common occurrence.

“I hope so,” Nickolas flipped a few pages in his notebook as his laptop sat, booting up for the next hour-long discussion about your shared upcoming project. “When I saw him, he looked pretty out of shape.”

“He’s always out of shape.”

Nickolas was surprised by the retort, quickly turning to scan your face. Instantly noting the frustrated look and red eyes once more. “Something happened, didn’t it.. Was it me?”

The quiet shake of your head worried him, but it’s not like he could pry all that much. He turned his attention from you to the books that were sprawled out in a manner of minutes for the project. All the notes, all the studying. It must’ve been draining for you. So, without a second thought, Nickolas lifted his books and began snapping them closed, much to your surprise.

“What are you doing?”

“We are going out, I’m not in the mood to study right now.”

He left you jaw dropped and mind fumbling for words: What?

Nickolas stood from his seat at the table and began doing the same to your notepads and pulling pencils away from your grasp. Placing your things in your bag and gently resting a soft hand on your shoulder to shake you, to bring you back from whatever land you were visiting and back to Earth.

“Let’s go out today,” He said, a smirk playing on his pierced lips. “I’m really hungry. Missed lunch because of my professor.”

“Uhm,” What were you going to say? No? It’s food. “Sure, let’s.. Let’s get something to eat.”

Nickolas finished packing your things rather quickly, leaving you stunned as you followed behind him out of the library. Walking past a few small groups of friends and lone students studying for classes, leaving the calm atmosphere into the bustling noise of the main entrance area. Brushing aside your confusion, you were actually glad deep down. A break from school, a break from Sukuna, a break in general.

It was a desire you never really got to enjoy since you were so busy trying to make the most of your parent’s sacrifices to even get you into the school.

“I will warn you, my tastes are on the extreme end,” Nickolas blurted, letting his bag hang from his shoulder and he lifted his hair. Tying it up into a tight bun while some loose strands rested behind his ears and some draped across his forehead. “Hope it’s not that big of a problem.”

“Not at all.”

The both of you continued to talk about food as you made your way to the parking lot, chattering like birds on a line about different kinds of BBQ shops that were nearby, along with a large buffet that you visited frequently. Right as you reach the lot, you see a familiar figure walking down the sidewalk with a bike at his side. 

Fluffy pink hair, a jersey hanging over his shoulder and noticeable scars under his bright honey eyes. It was Yuji.

Quickly he spotted you, a smile lifting the corners of his lips as he picked up his pace. Letting his hand temporarily leave its spot on one of the handles to wave at you. “Y/n! It’s been so long since I saw you!”

You could tell that he’s been working out recently, his arms and chest looked more toned than before. It made you giggle at the contrast of the brothers. One was a baby-faced sweetheart and the other was a really dickhead. Somehow, they continued to have similar builds and features (no matter how many tattoos Sukuna got).

In moments you were in his arms, his little teases and giggles echoing in your head as you caught up. Leaving Nickolas to get his motorcycle ready to ride, climbing onto the seat and starting up the engine. The roar of it alone sends vibrations into the concrete ground underneath the powerful machine. Its cold, black paint job was decorated with a silver ghost flame design and the rims shining bright to match. 

Yuji took no time to waste as he introduced himself to the rider, giving his same boyishly adorable smile as always. “I’m Itadori Yuji! Are you guys about to go somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Nickolas hummed, leaning forwards on the steering and letting his weight move the heavy machine beneath him slightly. “I’m about to get some BBQ and maybe.. Some boba.”

Yuji smiled even brighter (somehow even beating the sun) before turning his attention back to you. His face turned from real cheerful to a concerned look in seconds, reaching a hand up to trace the line of your jaw. “What’s wrong with your eyes? Tired?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” You mumble, brushing Yuji’s arm away, trying to force a soft smile that’d deter him from prying. But by the look on his face, Yuji wasn’t about to give up.

“I was going to come visit Sukuna for a bit to tell him about my classes, but clearly I need to talk to him about something else.”

“Yuji, really, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Clearly it wasn’t going to work talking Yuji down from a discussion with Sukuna, you eventually gave up. There was no fighting him, not like you really had planned to. You were done with fighting for now, it was draining.

“Other than that,” Yuji said, giving your hair a tussle before giving you a side hug. “I gotta go anyways, I’ll call you tonight once I’m home. They’re letting everyone out on holiday early since our semester tests were so high.”

“That’s good.”

You returned the hug with as much strength as you could muster, earning a back rub and a quick peck on the head. Yuji was gone just as soon as he had arrived, admitting that he was in fact about to run late for another class at the moment anyways and wishing he could join the both of you, before rushing off into the campus. Off to find his misbehaving brother– as he put it– and leaving you alone once again with your Economics partner.

“He’s a go-lucky kinda guy,” Nick’s voice rang from behind you, a smirk on his lips. “I’m assuming that’s your boyfriend or something?”

You pout, folding your arms over your coat. “I couldn’t imagine dating Yuji. He’s much too sweet.”

“I see.”

His hand lifted in offering, nodding to the small seat behind him. “Hop on, it’s gonna get dark before you know it.”

You take a second to glance back at the area Yuji disappeared to, not seeing him anywhere. He must’ve been in quite an actual hurry to disappear so fast. Looking away, you took Nick’s hand. His fingers holding onto yours in a warm squeeze, smooth and strong compared to Sukuna’s thick and rough ones. It was a change that you didn’t think you’d need.

Nick guided you behind him onto the bike, handing you his (much too big) helmet and pushing it down over your hair. He gave it a few pats and lifted the visor. “Make sure that’s on tight, okay? Don’t want a pretty thing like you falling off.”

Your cheeks deepened in color, thankfully it was covered by the helmet’s rim. After checking on your posture and a few things on his bike, Nickolas guided the wheels backwards. Turning ever so slightly to face the exit of the parking area, looking over his shoulder back at you with a smile.

“Might want to hold on, Y/n. Motor’s aren’t exactly a four wheeled tin can.”

There was some hesitation as your arms guided their way around his waist. Your cheeks continued to burn underneath the safety of the helmet, guarding your flustered expression from all eyes. There was a quick tap as Nick closed the visor for you and revved up the engine. Kicking off the bike and turning out to the street, leaving you to your own devices in the passenger seat.

Clinging onto his robust waist in a desperate attempt to keep yourself steady on the moving monster.

The sounds of traffic and the radio started to clash as he drove farther and farther away from campus. The lights dimming in the background as street lights and nearby signs started to fill your sight. In your chest you started to feel lighter, even if you were clinging onto Nickolas to calm yourself and stay steady, the feeling of relief started to wash over you.

You slowly started to lift your head as cars started to pass by you, taking a deep breath and resting your cheek on the driver’s shoulder. The smell of the city made you miss the scent of the Sticks, of your old home and the Willow Tree. Even the old barn that the elders of the village warned not to visit in fear of ‘evil spirits.’

The flashing lights contrasted the millions of stars that would shine so bright in the middle of night. Stars alone in the Sticks felt like a magic show to young you. Your mother had always teased and said that a bunch of fireflies flew too close to try and reach the moon and got stuck in the sky, leaving their lights to help guide others to it in their stead.

“Moths have gotten lost up there too,” She would say, laying next to you in your old backyard. Pointing to different formations that the lights made, giving you tickles and kisses all the while. “They think the moon is like a giant light, they want to be with it so bad they’re willing to fly up towards it no matter the cost.”

Your mind continued to wander, remembering random things you got to do while you were living in that small village. Trees that grew alongside the streets of the road could never quite grow as big as the Willow Tree either.

“There’s magic that keeps it so tall and proud,” Your father’s cool tone always hummed, letting you rest in his lap as he read you another book. “It doesn’t like wilting, even in winter.”

You always loved their stories and tales, and had fun making them with them. 

All the while Sukuna was there too, it was like bliss.

Although he was mostly brooding at his young age, he liked to play pranks on you and Yuji. Always chasing you around and messing with the family cat. Bringing presents for your parents and sitting to listen to the stories in the books they lent to you. 

He was so cute back then..

Compared to now, You thought to yourself, feeling the breeze begin to still as Nick made a turn. Pulling into a somewhat busy parking lot of a buffet restaurant. He’s a different kind.

“Alright, Y/n,” He said, parking in between a truck and some SUV a family must’ve owned before turning back to you. “We’re here.”

↞↞↞ ♡ ↠↠↠

Enchiladas, red beans, rice, and peppers sat on your plate. Warm, covered in cheese and sauce covering the food while Nickolas’s was different. It was carne asada fries, extra peppers and sour cream on the side. Obviously.

“Dig in, my stomach’s growling!” He chuckles, not wasting any time helping himself. Letting you giggle and mess with him about the way he eats, but only returning the jokes as you begin to eat.

It made you forget about the day, about the project, about everything. Letting your head relax and your brain go blank, it’s been so long since you’ve been able to. Getting to know each other more, talking about your favorite topics. You could’ve sworn that that morning was just a bad dream, a small dent in your day. And it was all thanks to Nickolas for trying to cheer you up. You were gonna have to repay him somehow over this, letting him see you in such a state was hard to recover, but it’ll work itself out.

“The food here is better than I thought,” You muffled through a mouthful, chewing quickly as if you were both in the middle of an eating competition. “I’ll have to ask Yuji if he’d like coming here.”

“Mgh, he looks like the type to eat anything as long as it’s good,” Nickolas responded, gulping down some water to combat the spice of the cheese, eating a morsel of bread before continuing his food shoveling.

“You’d be surprised, he’s really picky.”

You and Nickolas continued to talk and eat, standing to grab more food, talking the day away in that little buffet. Splurging and going to get dessert a few times until your stomachs were practically bloating with too much to carry. It was fun, exciting. It felt almost like how home felt.

Comforting.

“Are you sure we can get boba? I think I’ll vomit!”

“I want strawberry milk tea, Nick. Besides, you offered. It’d be really rude of me to pass up on free boba!”

“Who said it’d be free!?” Nick questioned, holding you by the hip and guiding you towards the restrooms. Offering his arm again as you stumbled all full of food and treats on the way so that you wouldn’t fall and make a fool of yourself. “I’m already paying for the buffet.”

“I’m just kidding, Nickolas! And I would rather split.”

Nickolas managed to get you to the women's restroom, holding you against the wall and waving a hand at you. Dismissing your attempts to pay with mock offence. “My abuelo taught me to pay and treat a woman right, I’d be going against everything I believe in!”

Despite how you wished to stay and continue arguing, Nick guided you into the bathroom and left. Promising to wait nearby for you so that you wouldn’t feel alone, but you saw through a crack in the door that he had pulled out his wallet and begun lifting some money from his pocket. You shook your head and waddled into the nearest open stall, locking the door to use the facilities.

Once you had finished, you heard your notification sound from your purse as you were washing your hands. It was from Yuji, and as promised, he had had a talk with his brother.

The reminder gave you a bit of a clenching in the jaw, but you were fine. You felt better, you were better. Maybe you’d approach the situation with fresh eyes.

↞↞↞ ♡ ↠↠↠

Yuji– 10:59am, Saturday: I got him to talk a lil, so be wary. He’s quiet too, what did u say to him?

You– 1:13pm, Saturday: I said some pretty rude things, I’ll apologize to him later.

Yuji– 1:20pm, Saturday: Don’t tell me the both of you have been fighting!! 😡

You– 1:23pm, Saturday: It was just the one fight, I promise. I’ll make it up with him when I’m home.

↞↞↞ ♡ ↠↠↠

You and Nickolas left the buffet, arms linked as you climbed back onto the motorcycle and made your way to a drive-by boba store. The day felt like a big blur from all the excitement. In between boba and the food you visited little gacha shops and comic stores, geeking out about idols and enjoying some other assorted snacks with each other. A drive that cleared your head and made you forget all about the worry and stress of the last few months.

Feeling more like it was a quick stop rather than a day on the town as you both continued down to this small park. It was clearly a park for small children and their parents, but in the evening, it was free range for anyone. 

The swings creaked from the slightest movement, putting you and Nickolas into a fit of giggles. 

“You got cream on your nose,” He says, reaching over and cleaning the messy cream off your face. Bringing his thumb to his lip and licking it clean, leaning back and washing it down with another sip of his drink. Looking up at the sky and gazing at the little stars that were visible, the rest hidden in the glow of the street lamps. “It’s pretty at night, isn’t it?”

“Mm,” You nod, resting your head against the metal chain and turning your gaze up to the sparkling dots in the sky. The memory of your mother flashed through your mind again, making you smile.

“My mom says that stars are fireflies that got stuck trying to reach the moon, or something like that.”

“Oh? My momma said they’re our family watching over us.”

The both of you hum at the sentimental meanings of the stars, reflecting and enjoying the growing cool of the evening breeze. It gave your arms goosebumps across your skin, making you rub them out of instinct. Your movements of course weren’t avoided from Nick’s eager eye. He placed his cup onto the ground and took off his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders, patting your back absentmindedly.

“You should’ve told me you were cold,” he muttered, returning to his previous seat on the swing. Letting his heels push him back and forth in the rocky spot. “A small hoodie like yours isn’t gonna keep you warm and toasty, Y/n.”

“Haa, I was fine, Dad.”

“Your papa would say the same thing, no fighting about it.”

You let out a sigh, pulling the jacket over your shoulders and covering your body. The jacket was warm and it smelled nice, like an old cologne some rich business man would wear. Chanel? No, it can’t be that, he doesn’t look the type to use it.

As you pondered the scent, sniffing and nuzzling into its confines, Nickolas redid his bun. Tying up tighter than before so as to not let it blow loosely in the wind and blind you on the way home. His golden gaze moving from the stars to you. Watching you closely as you leaned against the swing’s tether, the jacket draping over you perfectly. It brought a smile to his face seeing you so content, so relaxed in his company.

Down right cute.

“We should head home, yeah?” He said after a while of admiring the area and chatting for another hour or so. Just as the sun went down and the moon was beginning to shine in the sky, you were guided yet again to the bike at the curb after you tossed the empty boba away. Helped up onto the back seat and joined seconds later by your partner.

You reach up, patting a gentle hand on his shoulder and resting your head on it. “Thanks for taking me out, Nickolas. It really helped me.”

There was a silence as the engine came to life once more, probably the last time of the night, before Nick turned to look back at you. His near glowing golden eyes shining with glee, “Not a problem, I’m happy to help any time.”

One final push away from the park and you were back off to campus for the night, and strangely you weren’t all that nervous to see Sukuna again. He had probably left the dormitory already, leaving things clean as they were before and back in his own. Trying to catch up and maybe take space he wanted after the fiery morning the both of you shared.

If he was there, by some wild chance, you’d try and talk to him. For Yuji, of course.

After a twenty or so minute drive, Nickolas parked his bike in the same place it was before. Hoping off the bike and turning to help you off. Letting his teases get the best of him and poking fun at your messy helmet hair, patting it down and rubbing his fingers gently through the strands before linking arms with you again.

Walking the sidewalk to the girl’s dorms, Nick had to hold you up as you had begun feeling tired. That, and you just weren’t used to the amount of attention he was giving you. Making your brain go into a foggy overload and wanting a good night’s rest to process it all.

Nick was forced to take you inside, getting odd whispers from your neighbors as he sheepishly tried to explain the situation only to be teased about it. The scene looked embarrassing enough, but you were indeed just sleepy, and Nickolas was going to go home right after.

“Alright, Y/n,” He says, taking his coat from around your shoulders. “I gotta go now, so go ahead and get some sleep. Try and relax your stomach tomorrow too, it’s stuffed from all the food we had.”

“It’s only ‘cuz you’re a glutton,” You teased, standing up on your own (with the help of the wall) and fitting your key in the slot of the door lock. Looking back at him, you flashed Nickolas a toothy grin. “We should do stuff like that more often, I think you’ve made me a glutton too!”

Nickolas chuckled at this, a pink tint on his cheek as he scratched at his nape. “Oh no, I guess I have to take responsibility for you now? What a shame.”

You both parted ways, giving good nights and best wishes as you entered your dorm and he turned to the hallway. Getting teased by your nosy neighbors along the way as he got to the exit, leaving you alone in your dorm with…

Sukuna?

You had turned once inside to see a big lump of blankets and pillows, that had belonged in your room originally, on the couch. Covering a snoring, messy pink haired mass, a stuffed animal barely poking out from under a large, banded tricep. The cute bunny face and ears distorted into a strange shape under the weight of Sukuna’s arm.

“You’re still here?” You asked his sleeping form, stepping over to the couch and taking a seat next to his stomach. Gazing down at him, reaching to brush your fingers across his scalp, tickling near his nape so much that he stirred in his sleep. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”

“..I only leave when I feel like it.”

You flinch, seeing Sukuna’s dark eyes begin to open. Peering up at you from underneath his arm, tired and cold. “You were out for a long time.”

“I was with Nickolas,” You start, returning the calm stare, furrowing your brows together before looking around the living area. Taking in the mass amount of things he has strewn about: more plushies that you kept near your bed, some little doodles on paper you saved for later projects, and some blankets mixed with pillows. “I thought I said to keep my place clean.”

“It’s clean, you’re imagining shit.”

The fight from that morning returned to your mind at the snippy comment, making you clench your jaw and rub the bridge of your nose, exhaling to let out the bite back. “Still, what are you doing here? Don’t you feel better?”

“...No.”

Well that was odd.

“Do you need ibuprofen? I have some Advil, I think.”

Sukuna’s head shook, messing his hair up even more. He was looking like a giant cat that just got denied good food or a cuddle with its owner. It was kind of a sweet sight to be witnessing. You let out a strained sigh and lean back against his stomach, hearing his grunt in compliance from underneath your weight.

“Was Yuji tough on you?”

“That lil’ shit should be lucky I even gave him an ear to listen to his moaning.”

“I take it you weren’t too happy then.”

A small silence followed as you both rested on the couch. Somehow, this moment reminded you of when he needed help home. How he was dazed, barely noticing what you were doing for him until he needed a shower. The way he lifted you into his bed for the night after the both of you bickered over where you’d be staying for the night. (While you would never admit it, you did like that night’s rest.)

Sukuna noticed your smile, the way it was so perfectly crooked.

“Why did you steal all my stuffed animals?” You asked, returning your gaze down to his level.

His eyes narrowed momentarily as he decided how to answer the question. Eventually he lifted his arm and pulled the stuffed bunny from his grasp, holding it out and staring at it. Sukuna didn’t utter a word as he messed with the plush stomach of the toy, letting out a soft murmur.

“I missed.. Your smell.”

You were caught off guard, brows rising at his response. Since when did he say things like that?

As you were left to ponder on what to do with the mess, Sukuna dropped the bunny and sat up, lifting the blankets that covered him and pulling you once again into his hold. You let out a small yelp and tried to fight back, but were too tired to really push him off or yell. So, as you were wrapped up in Sukuna’s leg, arm and the comforter, you took a deep breath.

Under the weight of Sukuna’s hold, your body started to register that sleep was imminent and slowly forced you into a dazed state.

“Y/n,” Sukuna muttered as you turned into him, pressing your face into his chest, letting your hands fall between your thighs to keep warmth. You murmured out a grunt while you got comfortable. 

While your eyes had closed, your snores starting to grow, Sukuna was left awake by himself. His arms coming to wrap around you as he had the doll, nuzzling his nose into the scalp of your hair and taking a deep breath, inhaling your scent, the scent he wanted close the whole day that he thought he could sub with a plush toy.

Shameful, needy– these are things he didn’t want to be.

He breath came out in a huff, brushing against the shell of your ear. “I want to work on my math tomorrow.”

“Sure.. jus’ wake up at a decent time.”

As sleep overtook you, you could barely register what was said. The warm embrace of the man you had hated from that morning being the one thing that made you feel most at ease in your sleep. It was strong, firm; made you feel as if you were on cloud nine. 

In mere moments you were asleep, cuddling into the same arms you wanted to be away from that morning. Deep down, you were still irritated with Sukuna. You didn’t want to hear out whatever excuse he wanted to spill, if one at all. But right now, you just wanted rest.

That day was probably the most calming day leading up to the Willow Tree trip.

↞↞↞ ♡ ↠↠↠

a/n: holy shit was this a lonnnnggg time waiting and a longggg time writing!! i'm glad i'm finally getting back into the swing of things with my writing, I really hope you enjoyed reading all 8k of this chapter (longest chapter i've ever written to date!!) Seeing as it's been a while, I think my style has changed a lil so sorry it's a lil odd. anyways, thank you for the long asf wait but i hope you really liked this one! pls feel free to put suggestions in the comments and submissions! i also updated the taglist as best i could!

Chapter Song Theme: – Figure You Out -- VOILA (Lyric Video)

taglist: @mageyboo , @mzladyd , @mysticwonderlands , @sukunastoy , @sukunaspersonalfleshlight , @kawaiipenguin20 , @k-indie , @okkotsufav , @cafeinthemoon93 , @pulchritxde-blog , @bontensbunny , @deepinballs , @kleeboomed , @fiierytearzx , @wo-ming-bai , @instantgalaxysheep , @watyousayin , @z3r0art , @sukunaobsessed , @lik0 , @domainofmarie , @the-moongoddess , @dark-n-dirty-duchess , @agentdedf1sh , @sukunastoy , @lyn-soso , @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9 , @heyitstacy , @lost-in-tokyo , @marksassybanana , @bozos-r-us , @p-3-4-ch , @misslauravillanueva , @chaoticqueen33 , @dxxny -loves-u , @l0tus-in-l0ve , @jiordeci , @opossum0-0 , @gumisgirl , @mommasbigd , @fallenlostarchives , @infinitivesearch, @t4ters, @n4muqr, @huuuhwhaat, @jiordeci, @chaeryred, @purplebee21, @hisheadismountfuji, @voyager1fan, @ichibaba, @brandydel, @berrylovesstuff, @whispersofbeskar, @dontcare1331

last chapter || next chapter

[illiterateaffairs]

so we meet again | stiles x reader

part one | masterlist

pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (enemy/witch)

word count: 1,595

warnings: language, banter, references to sex, fire! and not too much development from the last part because this is a slow burn and just bridging the gap to more drama

summary: stiles is still processing the fact that he hooked up with his enemy - but seeing you again might just be all he needs to get a grip and get over it...for now

author's note: am i doing this 12 days of ficmas??? i'm 2/2 but i shouldn't get cocky, i've got a week of work events so like i said don't hold me to it! this is part two of cursed from the start, you can read the first one at the link above!! also for anything teen wolf, i am half fact checking and not really rewatching episodes in full so while this takes place in 301, i am half assing the hell out of the surrounding plot so just stick with me, at the end of the day its just backdrop for stiles and our evil witch girly! enjoy and pls comment and reblog!!! <3 p.s. virginity is a construct but we all know the stiles characterization lmao

Stiles “ignore the problem until it goes away” Stilinski was back in full force. 

This time the problem was you. Maybe problem wasn’t the right word. But hooking up with you, someone he’d despised from the second they’d met, was definitely not a good thing. 

Fortunately for him, he hadn’t seen you since that night. But while that made it easy to avoid a visual reminder of that night, it didn’t mean he didn’t think about it. 

In fact, he's thought about it every night since. He’d get through his whole day in quiet denial, burying the memory deep, deep down. But then as soon as he was alone with his thoughts at night, he relives it all over again.

And listen, its not because he enjoyed it.

Well. He definitely enjoyed it. More than he honestly thought he’d enjoy his first time. So that was a plus.

And he was in fact a very eager and consenting party in the whole thing. 

But that didn’t mean he enjoyed you. 

It was just a check off the bucket list. 

But damn was it really good. 

That was all it was though. Just him reliving the pleasure, not the girl. It was his first time having sex, it was normal and even expected for him to look back at it fondly. Even if his partner in the act was someone he was less than fond of. He’d just tuck the memory away safely and move on, a new and improved person. 

But that was easier said than done when Scott was around. Most people jumped at the chance to tell their best friend when they’ve lost their V card. Especially Stiles, who’s made his virginity a hallmark of his personality. He was dying to tell Scott if finally happened, but he really did not want to have to explain it all. Even if he left the identity of the girl anonymous or made someone else up, Scott would still question it. And sense his heart rate. He did not have the mental capacity to deal with that anytime soon. 

So when he finally does accompany Scott to his tattoo appointment, he doesn’t mention a thing. And when they run into Allison and Lydia for the first time all summer, he is reminded there’s a girl he actually likes to stress himself out over. 

Admittedly, on the first day of junior year, he does keep an eye out for you, nervous about how he’s supposed to act the first time you come across each other since that night. Sure, you don’t run in the same circles as long as Stiles can help it - until another supernatural event forces proximity. But you do go to the same school, and one or the other would bring you together eventually. But he doesn’t see you in the halls, nor are you in his homeroom with Scott, Allison, and Lydia. 

The first time he sees you he’s not prepared for it. Despite any weariness - or full blown hatred - from Stiles, Scott is insistent on getting his tattoo. It had healed after the initial tattoo appointment, neither of them having thought of werewolf powers affecting it. So, they pay a visit to Derek at the old Hale house to find out how he did his own tattoo. Unfortunately, he reveals there are two ways a werewolf can receive a permanent tattoo. One, get inked up by a blow torch. Or two, have a witch do it.

That’s why when Scott and Stiles walk into the abandoned house, they find Derek and you.

Stiles’ heart stopped briefly when the two of you made eye contact, but he quickly recovered from his shock in fear of giving himself away. Especially when you greet them with your usual nonchalant smirk. Hey, boys. 

He could have sworn you’d given him a private, discreet look when Scott focused his attention on Derek for an explanation, but it was probably his anxiety playing tricks on him. 

Needless to say, after hearing his options, and seeing Derek a little too trigger happy with the torch, Scott chooses you as the one to give him the tattoo. Even if he’s not thrilled with that option either. 

Stiles watches wearily as you sit in a chair beside Scott. You wait expectantly for him to offer you his arm. 

“What? You think I’m going to bite it off, or something? I’m not one of the werewolves here, remember?” You ask, teasingly.

Scott rolls his eyes and holds out his arm. “Well, you’re still not the most trustworthy person I know, remember?”

You fake pout, “You trusted me enough to help you with the kanima situation last spring.”

“Yeah and then you teamed up with the Argents at the last second!” Scott argues back.

“That's because your little friend pissed me off.”

“Hey, I’m standing right here.” Stiles buts in. 

“Oh, I’m aware.” You look up at him, “Now make yourself useful, and help hold him down.” You nod at him and Derek.

Stiles fights his own eye roll. Yeah, it was getting easier second by second to stop overthinking your night together. 

“Why do they have to hold me down?” Scott asks.

You plaster a semi-sweet smile on your face, “Because it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” 

You’d never been more honest with them. 

Stiles will probably have nightmares about Scotts agonizing screams while you magically burned his tattoo onto his arm. 

You stick around to ensure the tattoo stays, despite your verbal confidence in the fact. But as soon as Scott discovers the alpha pack emblem on the door, and gets into a conversation on strategy with Derek and a now conscious Isaac, you make your exit. 

As you walk down the path to your car, Stiles can’t help but follow you, figuring he wouldn’t be of much use to the conversation and that Scott would catch him up later. 

“What do you want, Stiles?” You ask without turning around, not even giving him the chance to speak up first. 

“Jesus. Do witches have super hearing, too?” He asks incredulously. 

“No, you just walk loud and annoyingly,” you finally stop and turn around, “And I figured you’d want to talk.”

“Oh, yeah, why’s that?” Stiles crosses his arms, trying to act calm and normal. 

“Because you’ve been antsy since the moment you saw me,” You shrug, “And you’re you. All you ever do is talk.”

Stiles scoffs, but then nods reluctantly. He did yap a lot, that was fair. 

“So what do you want, Stiles?” you ask with an amused smile.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure we’re cool, I guess?”

“That we’re cool?” You give him a disbelieving look, “Have you and I ever been ‘cool’?”

Stiles doesn’t hold back from rolling his eyes, “Okay, you know what I mean. I just wanted to make sure that since we-”

“You just want to make sure I’m not gonna give away the fact that we slept together?” 

Stiles flinches and glances back at the Hale house.

“Relax, they’re not listening to us.”

“Wha- you don’t know that!”

“They’re too busy talking about the alphas, we’re fine,” You sigh, “And I know the drill. We already agreed not to tell anyone.”

“I know. But you’re not exactly known for keeping promises.”

You stare at him blankly, “Are you trying to make me want to tell people?”

“No! No. Okay, no. Thank you for your discretion so far. I’d really like it if we continued to keep it between us.” Stiles stutters, stepping closer and lowering his voice. 

You look him up and down in amusement. “Yeah, I got it. Not a soul.”

“Right, exactly,” Stiles nods, “And it was a one time thing.”

You nod too, the corner of your lip turning up, “Was there any part of you that considered it wouldn’t be?”

Stiles’ eyes widen briefly, and his cheeks warm. “Um, no.” He clears his throat, “No. That wouldn’t make any sense. It barely made sense the first time we did it.”

You hum with a slight nod, taking another step or two closer to him so there’s minimal space between the two of you. Your voice is low as you reach out and gently place your hand on his chest, “Really, because I remember a lot of senses the last time we were together. A lot of our senses that felt really good.”

Stiles' heart drops to his stomach as your warm breath hits his face. “Um, I don’t…”

You snort, pushing his chest and you step back, “God, you are too easy.”

Stiles groans and steps back even further. “And you are the worst.” 

“That’s not what you were saying last time,” you start to walk backwards to your car, “And just remember, if you don’t want it to have been the last time you know where to find me.”

Stiles fake laughs, “I fucking hate you.”

“And yet you didn’t hate fucking me!” you call before you open your car door.

Stiles groans again, once again looking between you and the house at lightning speed, praying to god no one heard that.

He curses your name as you drive away, wondering why on earth he let you keep him up at night for any other reason but pure loathing. He had never been more sure that their first time together would in fact be the last and from here on out he was going to pretend it never happened at all. 

But when did ignoring the problem actually ever make it go away?

author's note: loathing! unadulterated loathing!!