#and around that time you can make dinner for them too bc i doubt these mfs eat healthy at most days

[dolyx]

(going to sydney's house except that u get the chance to improve ur housekeeping skills bc none of these mfs has the time nor energy to keep things tidy around them.)

[rosenclaws]

Restless night | Variant!Logan x reader

summary: Logan has nightmares about his world and you want to help.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of bodies (not graphic), sad logan, possibly ooc bc ive never written for him im sorry dfslj. Reader has like, memory manipulation powers? Ig that's how you'd explain them??

a/n: Hello! This is my first Logan fic ever and I am very nervous but after watching Deadpool I have fallen in love with wolverine, particularly this wolverine. I don't know if I'll ever write again for him but I wrote this and felt like sharing so I hope you like it too <3

wc: 1.7k

"Logan!" You yell angrily. He grits his teeth as you slam the door wide open. Curious heads turn towards the two of you as you storm after him. 

"What." He bites back as he continues to walk. 

"Can you just stop for one fucking second!" Your fists clench at your sides as you stop right in front of the front doors. "You are a real asshole, you know that? You're a mutant whether you like it or not. So how about doing something good and helping us." He pulls out a cigar and lights it, blowing the smoke directly into your face. 

"For the last fucking time, I don't want any part of your X-Men bullshit." You sigh and shake your head. So fucking stubborn. 

"We need you Logan, please. I need you please." You place your hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb over his leather jacket. For a moment you think he might stay. Maybe he'll admit for once in his life that he wants the family that waits for him here. Instead he pushes your hand off. Rolls his eyes and walks straight past you. 

"Fuck off." He walks out the doors, letting them slam loudly.

Those were the last words he ever spoke to you. Well, the you that he knew.

"Logan?" He flinches hard as your voice snaps him from his spiral. 

It makes his stomach turn to see you. You look exactly how he remembers. Except you have a scar on your forehead. His eyes focus on that, a reminder that you're not the you he knew. No, in this universe you're Wade's next door neighbor. A mutant who retired from teaching at the mansion and lives a quiet, happy life. At least you're happy in this world. 

"M'fine." He mumbles as he stands up from the table. No one was really paying attention to the two of you as dinner was dying down. You want to say more but he leaves before you can. Sighing, you watch him retreat into his room. He's barely said two words at a time to you. No matter how hard you try he refuses to speak to you. At first you thought you had done something but the few times you've caught him staring you see a terrible sadness in his eyes. You know he's from another timeline and that something went terribly wrong. Your room shares a wall with his and as hard as he tries he can't hide his nightmares.

"Don't worry about him, he's got that tragic backstory kind of character development going." Wade comments. "God knows he could use some therapy but I doubt Marvel would ever green light that movie." You nod absentmindedly, not really listening to Wade's rambling. 

You float around for a little longer until you can silently excuse yourself and go back to your own apartment. Logan stays on your mind the whole time. You wonder if he knew you in his world. If something had happened that made him like this. As you lay in bed you close your eyes and listen, you can hear him tossing and turning. He settles and you silently hope that for once he can sleep through the night. 

It's eerily silent as he stumbles back to the mansion. He stops right outside of the door. His ears alert for the sound of you to see if you were awake yet. Except no matter how hard he listens he can't hear anything. A horrible scent fills his nose and it makes him sick. The smell of blood. Barging through the door's he's met with destruction and bodies.

This is a nightmare, it has to be. He calls your name frantically. Racing through the mansion, begging for anyone to be alive. Instead he finds body after body. Until he stumbles upon yours. He falls to his knees, his hands ghosting over your face. You look so peaceful but you're cold to the touch. Maybe if he had been there, he could have saved you.

His claws unsheathe themselves as white hot rage bubbles to the surface. Without another word he walks out of the mansion with only the thought of killing on his mind. Blood for blood.

Logan's voice is what wakes you up. Even through the walls you can hear him. You can't quite make out what he's saying but it's clearly a nightmare. He's turning wildly. You knock on the wall, hoping maybe it would wake him somehow. Worry builds as he gets louder. 

Suddenly through the walls you hear a resounding shout before metal claws burst through your wall. You can't help but scream as they miss you by only a few inches. Breathing heavily you slowly reach out to touch them but they retract before you can.

"Fuck!" You hear him shout. The sound of scrambling and frantic footsteps following his outburst. A loud knocking fills your apartment as you shake off the shock. Quickly you rush to the door and open it, finding a shirtless Logan standing before you. His eyes scan you for injuries, injuries that he would have caused. He grabs your arms firmly and pushes you inside, closing the door behind him with his foot. 

"Logan I'm okay, just a little startled." You try to reassure him but he doesn't hear you. His mind is snowballing out of control. 

"Logan!" You say louder and he finally looks at you. 

"I'm okay." You say softly. Slowly he loosens his grip as he lets his body relax, but only a little. 

"Another nightmare?" You ask and he nods. His eyes drift to your open bedroom door. He can see the holes left by his claws. Just how close they sit next to your pillow. Guilt floods him as he deflates.

"I..." He doesn't really know what to say. This would be your first real conversation since he came to this world. For years he's thought about what he'd say to you if he was ever gifted the chance. Yet, he stands here completely silent. 

"They're getting worse." You say, breaking the silence. 

Cautiously you reach to take his hand. He closes his eyes as he feels your thumb rub along the top of his hand. He lets you guide him to your bedroom. When you let go he almost reaches out to take it back, but he doesn’t. Instead he turns his attention towards your wall. He’s ruined a fair amount of bed sheets before but this was new. He traces the holes with his hand. Wincing as he notices just how close he was to cutting you open. 

"Sit." You gesture to the empty side of your bed. He hesitates and you huff. 

"Humor me." You plead and he can't find it in himself to say no. 

It's almost too much as he sits down, everything smells like you. Your hands move towards his temples but he grabs your wrists before you can go any further.

"Logan, let me help." He half smiles at that. 

"You were always so persistent about that." Your eyes widen as you realize he's talking about his universe’s you. 

"I told you I didn't want you poking around in my head but you just wanted to help the nightmares. I never let you though" He admits. 

"I should've. I should've stopped being a stubborn ass and just listen to you." His voice wavers and you have a feeling he's not talking about dreams anymore. 

"Then listen to me and let me help you." He lets go of your wrists and looks up at your face. Savoring the look of kindness in your eyes. 

"You don't want to go in here, once you do..." Wordlessly you place your fingers on the side of his head. Suddenly you're overcome with visions of bloodshed and anger. A tear slips down your face as you see flashes of Logan's memories. 

The rage, the hopelessness, the darkness that plagues his mind. Through all of that there was a lurking feeling of indescribable guilt. So much pain, so much sorrow. Logan knocks your hands away as he watches more tears pour down your face. You open your eyes and wipe the tears away. 

"I told you baby," He waits for you to move away from him. To call him a monster. It's what he deserves. To his surprise you wrap your arms around him instead. He buries his face in your shoulder and hugs you tight. 

"I'm so sorry." It’s the last thing he expects to hear and it nearly breaks him.

"What I did.." 

"You were in pain, so much pain." You know it's not easy for him to see but all of this pain led to him becoming the hero he never thought he could be. 

"You saved the world Logan. You're a hero whether you like it or not." He winces as he remembers you say something similar to him before. "And a hero deserves to sleep peacefully, for one night at least."

"You won't stop will you?" You shake your head and he finally relents.

He sinks down into your bed, resting his head on your lap. You bring your fingers back to the side of his head and use your powers to calm his mind. Searching for happy memories and temporarily suppressing the bad ones. Calmness washes over him, a feeling he hasn't felt in years. He's already drifting in and out of sleep but something nags at him from the back of his mind. 

"I loved you. My universe's you." He admits in a whisper. The words he never got to say. It's been eating him alive for decades. He never got to say them to you, he was too much of a coward. 

Your heart skips a beat at his confession and he can hear it. You don't respond, instead offering a comforting hum. He doesn't know you. The similarities are there but he knows you're two different people. But he wants to know you and he hopes you feel the same way. For a moment he thinks that maybe the universe is finally giving him what he's always wanted, a second chance.  

"Sleep well Logan." You watch his breathing slow and his mind settle. Though you could stop using your powers now, you hold on for a while longer.

And for the first time in a long time, Logan sleeps.

[ivysoul]

⋆ ★ 𝐃𝐁𝐅!𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒. includes age gap (legal ofc), descriptions of and scenes of sex, size kink, very light humiliation kink (literally blink n you’ll miss it), light possessiveness, body worship, mirror sex, car sex, fingering, reader is described as smaller than ghost, sex while on the phone and the other end doesn’t know, probably a bit ooc ghost but idc. special dt to @ouchvns bc i love them sm ♡

༊*·˚ dbf!ghost teases you constantly. whether you’re alone or with other people, he’s always finding some way to make you flustered. a lingering touch on your thigh, or gently brushing his fingertips against your clothed cunt under the dinner table across from your father and sometimes other people. he’s even gone as far as to discreetly finger you under the table and find amusement from you struggling to keep quiet and collected. his fingers were soaked with your slick and you could hear the noises that were made from it when the room was a bit too quiet. your face was hot with embarrassment and lust at the same time and you didn’t know which feeling you should let take over your body at this point. ghost though, ghost was having the time of his life with this whole thing. “somethin’ wrong, kid? your face is all red.” meanwhile he’s got his thick digits trusting into your sopping cunt as he asked.

༊*·˚ dbf!ghost doesn’t like to share. if he picks you up from the bar late at night, you’d better pray that there isn’t some other man standing and talking to you where ghost can see, otherwise you’re in for a long, hard treatment from him later on. more often than not though, you do it on purpose. you make sure he catches sight of you and a guy talking. he was obviously flirting with you, fixing your lipstick that had smudged a little bit during the night, fingers lingering on your face for a second too long. ghost was seething as he sat there, waiting for you. he knew what you were doing and he made it very clear that he knew when you got into the jeep. you weren’t quite sure what had happened between the time when he locked the doors and now, but all you knew was that you were practically folded in half with your knees and thighs against your stomach and chest, hands gripping the leather of the seats as you all but screamed in pleasure, and no doubt everyone outside the bar could hear considering ghost didn’t care much to even leave the parking lot. he pounded into you with force, hard long thrusts were present where passion and love were absent. “wan’ act like a whore, i’ll fuckin’ treat y’like one. i know y’like it, you love bein’ used as a toy, don’t ya? my toy. all mine.”

༊*·˚ dbf!ghost loves how much smaller you are than him. he loves how easily he can manhandle you into any position he wants. you’re too tired and fucked out to flip over onto your stomach? don’t worry, babe, ghost has got you. his giant hands grab onto your waist and roll you over, lifting your hips to be even level with his as he lines up his girthy cock with your cunt again. he shoves in to the hilt in one quick thrust, eliciting a loud yelp from you. he chuckles—low and gravely, and bends over you, caging you under him. his huge body dwarfs yours completely as he continues his brutal pace from before. with his mouth right next to your ear, he speaks lowly, “‘m so crazy ‘bout you, love. i fit into you perfectly, ‘s like you were made f’me.” his teeth lightly nibble on your earlobe before placing a hot, wet kiss to the side of your neck repeatedly. you know damn well he’s leaving prominent lovebites as he goes. “can’t have my little baby goin’ around without people knowin’ she’s gettin’ taken care of, can i?”

༊*·˚ dbf!ghost likes to fuck you in front of your full length mirror in your bedroom and worship you the entire time. the mirror was to the side of your bed, giving him the perfect opportunity to have you kneel on the edge of the mattress and fuck you from behind. he tortured you like this, forcing you to watch the way his cock slowly fucked into you, or the way he would shamelessly worship your body by groping every bit of flesh, making sweet and loving comments about every part. it got you so incredibly flustered that it made it hard for you to focus on anything at all. the compliments he was giving were going on a loop in your mind and the reflection in front of you didn’t help whatsoever. you could see how much he meant his words, how sincere he was. there was no hint of a lie in his words, actions, or his eyes. “you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, sweetheart. every part of you is gorgeous. ‘m so lucky to have you. so, so lucky.” he repeated the words so much that you started to believe it yourself.

༊*·˚ dbf!ghost would frequently fuck you while you’re on the phone with your dad. the first time he did it had been the best. he had you bent over the counter with your shorts and panties at your ankles, his own clothes at his ankles. the little whimpers that would escape you every now and then would spur him on, picking up his speed and the harshness of his thrusts and hearing you stutter a piss-poor excuse to your dad over the phone on speaker (that ghost made you turn on for the sake of this). the death grip you had on the phone was strong from doing your absolute hardest to keep your noises in. your dad said something about inviting ghost over to dinner that night and ghost had to hold in a deep chuckle. but when your dad asked you a question that you had forgotten to answer due to your current state, ghost leaned down to mumble something in your ear. “y’better answer your father, angel.” your dad’s voice ran out from the phone again after that, “what was that, hun?” to which you said, all-too-quickly, “n-nothing, dad! it w-was nothing!”

☆ — © saintlulls, 2023 - don’t repost, translate, or copy.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: I have nothing to say for myself. The Jummy has been making me feral for the last few days and I had to cleanse myself somehow… so I figured writing smut was the best method for that. (It makes sense to me, don’t worry about it) It starts out a little angsty with Jake being insecure, but don’t worry bc it heats up VERY quickly. As always, sorry for any typos. Also this is probably my most favorite thing that I've ever written so I hope you guys enjoy.

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, body insecurity, body worship, a little bit of cockwarming if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v sex, 18+ MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 3593

Preview: 

“You’re fucking solid, Jake. Powerful. You fuck me so hard. You think someone built like him could fuck me the way you do?” You shake your head. “Wouldn’t even come close. No one can fuck me the way I need it besides you.” 

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

Admittedly, it had taken you a little while to realize that something was off with Jake – far longer than it should have, given how long the two of you have been together. But, in your defense, Jake Kiszka is a master at hiding when something is wrong. 

The first warning sign had been a few weeks ago when Jake had declined going out to his favorite steak restaurant, claiming that he was too tired and that he’d had a late lunch anyway so he wasn’t super hungry. You’d been doubtful, but the two of you stayed in for the night and Jake had distracted you beyond the point of awareness of anything other than his tongue and fingers. He'd fucked you slow and deep that night and needless to say, you’d quickly forgotten about it.

The second came during a dinner with him and his brothers. You, Jake, Sam, Josh, and Josh’s partner had gone out to a local Thai place that all of you loved. You all frequented it regularly and got the exact same dishes every time – which is why you had been confused when Jake ordered something else. You’d looked at him in shock, as did everyone else at the table, but he’d simply shrugged and said that he wanted to try something new. When the food had arrived, you couldn’t help but notice that the dish was much smaller than the one he usually got, but he seemed to enjoy it so you didn’t say anything. Again, you’d allowed yourself to forget about it. 

The third warning (and arguably the most obvious one) happened just two weeks later on an impromptu lake house trip that you all went on. Deciding to enjoy the last bit of time that they had until tours started again, Danny had suggested that you all spend the weekend swimming and hiking at the lake, just like you all used to do when you were younger. It had been a wonderful weekend, and you almost didn’t notice that anything was wrong… almost. 

The first day there had been spent hiking and goofing around inside, but your second day was always reserved for swimming. That morning, as you were changing into your swimsuit, you watched as Jake pulled on his swim trunks; nothing out of the ordinary. But what was strange was that he then put on a swim shirt, hiding his gorgeous torso from view. 

“Why are you putting that on?” You asked, grabbing your towel from where you’d hung it on the bedroom door. 

“I don’t want to get sunburned.” He said, perching his signature sunglasses on his nose. 

You opened your mouth to tell him that he’s never cared about getting burned before (much to your annoyance and worry) but he swiftly left the room. You trailed behind him, staring at his shoulders through the swim shirt and worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You couldn’t tell if he was actually being weird or if you were just overthinking. 

The rest of the trip had gone completely normal, with the boys acting like literal children in the water while you relaxed and sunbathed – occasionally joining them in the lake to participate in their craziness. But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you were overthinking, you couldn’t help but worry as you watched Jake in that stupid swim shirt. 

The entire drive home you’d wanted so desperately to bring it up to him, but you weren’t even sure what you were bringing up. Distantly, all those other little warning signs tinkled like little bells in the back of your mind, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Jake was acting completely normal. So what he was too tired to go to dinner one night? And why was it such a big deal that he wanted to try a different dish at a Thai restaurant? And maybe he really did just want to avoid getting sunburnt. And sure, you and him hadn't been intimate since that night he declined going out... but a few weeks wasn't really all that long in the grand scheme of things. Besides, even though it was between tours, Jake was still almost constantly busy with something – photoshoots, interviews, spending time in the studio. He was tired from work (and so were you). Nothing to be worried about. You shook your head at yourself, willing the little ball of anxiety in your gut to go away. 

And it did. Until just two nights later, when Jake asked you to turn the light off before he fucked you. 

“What? Why?” He was looking down at you, palms planted on either side of you and his weight settled on the bed between your thighs. He had on nothing but a plain t-shirt and his boxers. 

“No reason.” He said, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. He sunk his weight back on his heels to pull his shirt over his head before diving back down to attach his mouth to your breasts, suckling and biting at the sensitive buds. His distraction almost worked. 

“Jake, no.” You said, sitting up to stare at him. “Why do you suddenly want to turn the light off while we fuck?” 

“More romantic?” His words came out as a question, but he didn’t give you time to respond as he leant back down, intent on carrying on without explanation. 

“More romantic for me to not be able to see you?” He didn’t answer, instead beginning to place hot kisses down your throat, teasing the spot that he knew you loved. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time. 

“Jake, stop. Just stop.” 

He sat back up and you stared at him, trying to read his face in the dark. 

“You and I both know you’ve been acting weird. I’m not doing anything with you tonight until you tell me what the fuck has been going on with you.” You told him, your tone leaving no space for debate. 

“How have I been weird?” He asked, his voice far too cool and smooth for it to be genuine. 

“For one, you didn’t want to go to the steakhouse the other night. You know, the one you never say no to?”

“Y/n, I was tired. And full from lunch. How is that weird?” 

“You got something different when we went and got Thai with the guys!” You said, voice raising in volume as he kept staring at you like you were crazy. 

“Okay…” He said slowly, like he was speaking to a child. “And is that a crime? Am I not allowed to order something different?” 

“No. But you love that Thai dish that you always get!” Your hands flew about madly as you spoke, all the worry that you had pushed down finally coming to the surface. “And the swim shirt, Jake. You’ve never cared about getting burnt. Like ever. Why did you start caring now? And now you want to turn the light off while we fuck!” You were yelling now but you didn’t care. You were tired of ignoring that something was wrong. You didn’t know what it was – the dots not connecting between all these events yet. But you knew in your heart that something was wrong. 

“Please, Jake. We haven't slept together in weeks... which isn't like us at all! Just tell me what’s wrong so I don’t have to start making assumptions!” You had the inkling of one already, and you were praying that it was wrong. 

He stayed silent for a long moment, and the tension in the room was so thick you could probably cut it with a knife. Finally, his shoulders fell and he dropped his head. His hair fell on either side of his cheeks, framing his pretty face. 

“I’ve just… put on a few extra pounds recently. That’s all. It’s no big deal.” 

You stared, mouth falling open as the horrible assumption that had been plaguing your mind since the lake was confirmed. 

“So?” You asked, genuinely at a loss over him making this such a big deal. 

“So, I need to lose them. And maybe a few more.” You hated how sure he sounded as he said the words, like he’d already given this so much thought –and he clearly has. “I should've done it years ago to be honest."

“Jake, I-” You stopped, overwhelmed and at a loss for what to say. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him; scream in his face how wrong he was for feeling so low about his body. 

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s the truth. I’ve let it get too far and I have to slim down before tour starts.”

“Why?” The question is all your brain can come up with. You want to slap yourself for that being what your brain decided to spew at him first. He sighed deeply and hung his head. 

“Because, y/n. The outfits they make for me are always open chested – and people have already made comments about my weight in the past. So I want to slim down before we start again.” 

“Jake, those people have no right to make comments about your appearance. You’ve said that yourself in the past. Why do you suddenly care now?”

“Because they’re right about this. I don’t understand why you don’t get it!” 

For a split second, his raised voice hurts you, slicing through you as he snaps at you. But you know that it’s coming from his own hurt – the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. 

“Jake,” you say quietly, “I’m confused because I think you’re the sexiest person on the planet. I love the way you look. I don’t care if you feel like you’ve put on some weight. You’re still just as sexy as you were before.” You pause, sliding up in bed so you can see him more clearly in the dark. “If I’m being totally honest, I think you’re even hotter now.” 

His eyes widen at your confession and even in the dark you can see the blush that overtakes his face. 

“You do?”

“Fuck yeah, I do. C’mere.” You beckon him to come and lay against the headboard. He complies, crawling his way up next to you and laying back. You toss one leg over his waist and settle on top of him, straddling him as you place your palms on his chest. 

“Do you know what I mean when I say ‘I love you?’” You ask him quietly. 

He nods his head. 

“I don’t think you do.” You lean your head down to press your lips softly to his for a moment before pulling away. “It means that I love all of you. Ever fucking thing about you – on the inside and on the outside.”

“But it’s embarrassing.” He whispers, eyes pinned on yours. “I don’t like being the heavier twin.” 

The phrase sounds foreign on his tongue and you realize that it's because he's quoting something – no doubt a shitty comment from some asshole who claims to be a fan. You have half a mind to slap the shit out of him. His words fill you with so much anger you feel like you’re going to explode. 

“Jacob, do not EVER compare yourself to Josh. Ever.”

“But-” 

“But nothing.” You cut him off, pressing your pointer finger to his soft lips to silence him before cupping his cheek with your palm. 

“If I wanted to be with Josh or someone built like Josh, I would be. But I don’t. I want you, Jake. As you are." You shake your head at him. "You're not fat, Jake. Like at all. You literally have nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

He’s looking at you with shiny eyes and you wish your words would be enough to convince him. But he’s nothing if not hardheaded, so you know it’s going to take more than a few flowery words to get him to see the truth. 

“I’m going to turn the light back on.” You say gently. “And I’m going to show you how much I love you. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He whispers, and you can practically see it as his whole body tenses beneath you. 

You reach up and turn the lamp back on, washing the room in golden light. Jake is still looking at you, his eyes wide and nervous. You give him a little smile as you settle back down on him. Forgoing anymore words, you press a feverish kiss to his neck, licking and sucking down the hollow of his throat. His breath stutters in his chest as you slide your ass downwards. His cock is soft after your conversation but you know you can get him back to where he was at the start of the night.

“I love your body, Jake. These pretty nipples.” You swirl your tongue around them, drawing a breathy moan from him. 

You reach out your arms and find his hands, laying limply at his side. You lace your fingers with his and bring his left hand to your lips, kissing his calloused fingers. “I love your hands. I love how they look when you play guitar – fast and merciless and so fucking talented. And yet they’re still so gentle when they touch me.” You slide his index finger between your lips, swirling your tongue around the digit before releasing it. “And I love the way you make me cum on your fingers. You’re better at that than anyone I’ve ever been with before.”

“Really? Better than anyone?” He asks, the whispers of his usual cocky self shining through.

“Really.” You assure him, dropping his hands to focus your attention elsewhere. “Can I tell you a secret?” You ask him, looking up at his flushed face through your lashes. 

“Yeah. Tell me.” 

“Your stomach is probably my favorite part about you.” You say, delicately trailing your fingers down his sternum and over the curve of his belly. 

He scoffs. 

“You’re just saying that.” 

You shake your head. 

“I’m not. It’s the truth, Jake. I fucking love it. I love watching the sweat drip down it while you play on stage. It makes me so fucking wet, imagining licking it off you.” You bring your mouth downwards, biting at his soft sides as your hands knead into the flesh. You suck his skin between your teeth, creating a purple mark just to the left of his belly button. “Everything about you makes me wet, but your belly does it the most.” 

As if in answer, your pussy throbs at the sight of the hickey you left there. You can see on his face that he still isn’t convinced so you slide off your panties and kick them to the side – leaving you in nothing but your tank top. You rise slightly off the bed and swipe a finger through your folds, collecting the wetness that’s pooled there. 

“See?” You say, allowing him to see your juices drip from your fingers. Wordlessly, he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand to his mouth. He wraps his lips around your finger, swirling his tongue to lap up your wetness. He moans at the taste of you and you pull your hand free. 

“Believe me yet?” You ask him with a sly smile. 

“Getting there.” He gives you a cheeky grin and you can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at the sight. 

You give his belly one last lick before moving downwards, avoiding where his half-hard cock lies in his boxers. 

“And I fucking love your thighs.” You tell him, sliding your palms up and down them as you speak. “So thick and strong. Makes me so fucking horny.” 

You trail kisses up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, and the muscles twitch as you get closer to where he wants you. 

“You’re fucking solid, Jake. Powerful. You fuck me so hard. You think someone built like Josh could fuck me the way you do?” You shake your head. “They couldn’t even come close. No one can fuck me the way I need it besides you.” 

“Y/n… fuck.” His pupils are blown wide and his breathing is heavy. Even his chest is flush with his arousal. His cock is rock hard in his boxers now, tenting the fabric – straining them so much it looks like they might burst at the seams.

“And this,” you say, finally pressing your palm to his dick. “I don’t even have the words.” He groans at the pressure and his hips shift upwards off the bed in search for more. You give it to him, sliding his underwear down and off him. His cock springs free, slapping his stomach. You spit into your hand and wrap it around him, stroking him slowly. “You have such a pretty cock, Jake. It makes me feel so fucking good. Reaches places inside me no one else can.”

He groans loudly as you pump him, and you watch in awe as his eyes screw shut in pleasure. Your mouth waters and your cunt throbs at the sight and sound of him. Deciding that neither of you should have to wait for it tonight, you rip your tank top off quickly before sinking down on him, taking in his thick cock inch by inch. You moan and whimper as he stretches you, the familiar burn feeling so good. 

“Oh fuck!” Jake groans, opening his eyes to look at you taking his cock. “You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n. Look at you.” 

You still as you sink all the way down on him. He’s watching you with dark eyes and sweat is beginning to bead on his temples. 

“Jake…” you whine, beginning to rock your hips into his. 

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He growls, gripping your hips with his strong hands, kneading his fingers roughly into your flesh. 

You rise off him almost completely, before plunging back down on him – causing the both of you to moan loudly. You set a brutal pace, slamming down on him as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours. You drop your gaze downward to stare as each thrust causes movement in his soft belly, and you wail in pleasure and shock as you cum so hard you see stars. It tears through you so quickly you aren’t expecting it at all, and your movements still as waves of pleasure wash over you. When you finally come back to the world of the living, you want to be embarrassed for falling apart like that – but you can’t with the way Jake is looking at you. 

His jaw is open and his eyes are so dilated they look black. He looks like he wants to eat you alive. You both sit there, neither of you moving, as he looks at you like you’re the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. 

“Fuckin' hell.” He says, voice husky and broken.

 “Haven’t cum that easy since I was a fucking teenager.” You say, still a little embarrassed, despite his reaction.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Jake confesses, flipping you over quickly so that he’s on top. 

You know he saw where you were looking when you came – he’d been staring at your face the whole time. As embarrassing as that blatant display of lust had been, you can’t help but be thankful that he saw. There’s no way he can doubt your earlier words after seeing that. 

“Fuck me, Jake. Fuck me hard.” You plead, hooking your legs around his waist and pulling him in closer to you. “Fuck me the way only you can.” The last part comes out as a whisper and his cock twitches as you say them. He plants his forearms on either side of you, caging you in with his body. 

“I’ll fuck you every day until the day I die.” He says, before plunging into you again. 

There’s no delay now as he snaps his hips into yours – the force of each thrust causing your whole body to move upwards. His powerful thighs drive into you with fucking monster truck force and the sound of his skin hitting yours is loud and obscene. You rake your nails down his back, undoubtedly drawing blood as he hits that special spot inside of you that only he can. 

“Oh fuck, right fucking there. Jesus Christ!” You scream, digging your fingers into his sides and squeezing. 

“You’re so fucking tight, y/n. I’m gonna fucking cum.” Sweat drips down his neck and chest and you take the opportunity to lean upwards and lick it off him, moaning at the salty taste of him. 

“Dirty fucking girl. Jesus.” 

His thrusts are growing sloppy and erratic and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. You clench around him and the sound that falls from between his lips is practically a whine. 

“Do it, Jakey. Give it to me.” 

And that’s all it takes for him to spill inside you. 

“Fuck!” He growls, sinking his teeth into the skin of your shoulder as he cums. The sting brings you over the edge too, and you clench around him as you cum – milking him for all he’s got. 

When the two of you finally resurface, Jake pulls out of you and collapses on the bed next to you. You turn on your side to see his hilariously fucked out expression. You giggle. 

“What?” He asks, turning his head to face you, a sweet smile on his lips. 

“Do you know what I mean now when I say I love you?”

His smile widens – his beautiful white teeth on display as he scoots closer to you. 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

He kisses you – deliberate and passionate. 

"Jake," you say as he pulls away, "if you want to lose weight for you, then I don't care. But if you're only doing it because you feel like you have to..." You trail off, heart heavy at the thought that he had been feeling so down on himself without you realizing.

He smiles at you – the widest and most genuine one he's given you all night, and he slots his lips against yours in another kiss.

“Thank you.” He says as he pulls away from you. "But I think you've convinced me that I'm good with how I am right now." Seriousness overtakes his soft expression as he looks at you. "Thank you."

“It was literally my pleasure. I love getting to worship you.” You lean your head on his shoulder and he pulls the covers up over the two of you and turns off the lamp. “All of you.”

He chuckles, and the sound rumbles in his chest where you’re pressed against him. 

“I love you too, y/n. All of you.”

---------

Taglist:

@ignite-my-fire

@mybussyinchrist

@gold-mines-melting

@objectsinspvce

@starshine-wagner

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my permanent taglist <3

[sssilverstoned]

while you can still smell them ꩜ ln4

type: full length fic

word count: 3.9k

title from: i wish you roses by kali uchis

warnings: some fluff, angst, but like it's a happy ending. cursing bc i'm me, italics are memories

lily said: you know me i can never leave well enough alone. i thought this little snapshot of the break that was never really a break would be cute! for context, i'd suggest looking at the ig au linked below! this would be taking place in between part 2 and 3.

part 1

part 2

part 3

masterlist

You've only seen Lando cry on occasions that called for it. When family members died, when racing got too much for his mental, in some awful, awful moments. Maybe that's why it hurts so bad to see him cry now.

"A break feels a lot like you should add 'up' to that statement," he had said, turning away from you, looking out at the stars. You were sat on his balcony, feeling suffocated by the apartment. But the AC was on and working fine, and windows were open. Your emotions were suffocating you, that was more fitting.

"We can't keep on like this, Lan," you say in a broken voice, the lump in your throat thick and threatening. "It's not fair to either of us."

He doesn't realize he's crying until the drop hits his nose, making it quirk up in surprise. He swipes at his face, a pawlike move to get rid of the teardrops.

"Do you not love me anymore?"

His question makes you sob. Full body, head dropping to chest, your hands writing in your lap. The sound of you breaking down turns him back to you, rushing to the chair you've melted into. He lifts your face in his hands, and you take a breath when you see his face, discolored with tears.

"I'll always love you," he makes out of your words, just barely. "I, I just, it's not the same,"

"We can fix this, us. We can work on it together," Lando's brain is whirring at hyper speed, damage controlling the last 8 months of your lives together.

The cracks began to become schisms when he committed your largest pet peeve, which was ignoring things out of ease. Blissful ignorance, if you will.

It was small things, like forgetting about date nights in lieu of longer trainings or prolonging trips. Sometimes he forgot to water the plants, or didn't move laundry over, and that was manageable. That's what every couple encounters. What every couple does not encounter, was the intense pressure of racing a car for a living.

He was frustrated, with Zak, with anything papaya colored, and with his own self-doubts. He carried that frustration in his chest, and it came out in some of the words he spoke to you, and actions he took. You eventually stopped offering to come over and cook, because dinners were becoming continuously tense, and you were uncomfortable. Felt like a nuisance.

But at the same time, you were both so codependent. Without anything being said, you two began to avoid things you assumed the other wouldn't like, and asked for permission to do the smallest of things. You first noticed it when your sister pointed had asked you to come go with her out of town for the weekend, and you hesitated. "I'll have to ask Lando," you had told her. She bit her tongue.

Lando was just as bad, he had quite literally lost the ability to sleep when you weren't around. It made Grand Prix weekends an actual nightmare when you weren't there, calling you at any times in the day or night.

"Are you alright, it's 4am,"

"Sorry, can't sleep again. The melatonin does nothing,"

"Did you try the tea my mum got you?"

"Baby I just," he scrubs a hand down his exhausted face. "I just need you here."

"I can't just get up and go to Australia."

"I'll get you a flight, or maybe we can-"

"Lando," you say in a sterner voice. "I can't."

He's quiet for a moment, and you wonder what's going through his head. You hardly raised your voice or got intense, certainly never at him. But then again, recently, you seemed to never know what was going through his head.

It was silly to think that Lando was the same man that you began dating. You were 19, you would pray that he had changed somehow over the span of 5 years. But there was something missing that once was. The relationship was becoming more of a task, and that wasn't right. Which is what brought you to this moment, brought you to telling him you needed to talk.

"Lan," you whimper, bringing a hand up where his hold your face on either side. You don't even have to say anything more, he knows you better than you know yourself. And he begins to cry harder.

"I've never loved anyone but you, baby."

"I know."

"I can't, I really don't want to live without you," he shakes his head, standing back up to his full height. His hands stay busy, though, ripping through his hair.

"I'm not going to go away," you explain, agonized that you're calmer than he at this point. You stand from the wicker chair, but don't edge closer to him. "But my career is unpredictable right now, 6 months in Marbella is a long time. And you're, well, everywhere. And you need to focus on that."

"I've multitasked for 5 years," he says bitterly, making you sigh. His eyes are back on the stars, and his back to you makes your eyes blurry again.

"I'm not happy." You finally blurt, making his body stiffen. "I'm really not."

When he looks at you again, his expression reads clearly with fatigue, with anguish. "Please, baby, don't,"

It's your turn to clutch his face, bringing his forehead to touch with yours. Through your contact, you feel the heaves of his body, the breaths he's trying to control. "It's not forever," you whisper, mustering courage. "But we need to stop acting like everything's fine."

"I don't see myself without you."

"You're not," your hold tightens, he leans further into your palm, "but we've grown up together. The flower pot's too small now," you try to joke, he barely can fake amusement.

"I'll buy a thousand new pots."

"We need to clean up the broken one, first." His jaw clenches, you soothe it with your thumb. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He says back, almost silently. "Still wear that Mclaren shirt on race days, I need the luck."

You finally crack a smile. "I'll wear the hat too if my hairstyle permits."

He kisses you, almost convincing himself this if is the last fix he can get for a while, he needed it now. Not that either of you know it, but you both have the same thought. You both notice that your cheeks have each other's tears on them now, not sure which ones came from whom. You were on the same page in that regard, at least.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

"You should ask y/n out," your best friend says to Lando in the middle of a party. He chokes on his drink, not expecting her to come up to him like she did, and not expecting the words out her mouth.

You all were freshly 19, still congregating in someone's living room to try to have a good time. He knew your friends better than he knew you, the newest of the group in town, only having moved to the area with your family when you were 16.

"Should I, now?" He says, recovering from his fright.

"Yeah," she replies, ignoring the sarcasm. "She goes on about you, it's cute. She'd hurt me if she knew I told you, though. Not sure what she sees in you," his eyes narrow at the girl, which she ignores once again. "You'd be lucky to have a girl like her in your life."

That much, he knew. You were fiercely loyal to your friends and family, and treated him with a kindness that made him melt every time. You were funny, and genuine, and not to mention, the most beautiful person he's sure he knows.

When he bumps into you later at the party, he asks you what you're doing the following evening.

That was the story he'd tell people with a proud grin when they ask how you two got together. All you recount is how he nearly ruined your cute top with a shitty guinness.

He's struck with the memory when he sees the guinness logo in the ads on the walls of a restaurant. "Mate," Max all but snaps his fingers. Lando locks back in, humming for what he missed.

"Was just curious if you wanted to go out tonight. They've been texting in the chat about it, I saw you never responded."

Clubbing wasn't as fun as it used to be, not when you weren't dancing your heart out beside him, or waiting in bed with your nose in a book when he came home because you weren't feeling like going out. It felt like a waste of his time, and like he was sucking the fun out of other people's nights.

"'M alright," he says with a tight mouthed grin. "Gonna sit this one out."

Max looks at his friend, seeing through his response. "When's the last time you went out?"

If he had to take an educated guess, you last graced his apartment that night on the balcony, 4 weeks ago. So, 4 weeks ago. Perhaps longer, judging by the schisms. "A while. Not up to it."

"You're torturing yourself."

"I'm not interested in getting shitfaced, Max."

Max looks away for a second, quickly weighing the pros and cons of asking what he's been wanting to for the last, well, 4 weeks. "Do you think Y/n is wallowing too?"

The sound of your name makes his fingers twitch inadvertently, almost like a flinch. "That's not fair."

"I'm serious, Lando. You said she needed a break because she felt like you two were co-dependent and not actually working through problems, and look at you. You're not functioning without her. I mean, it's your fucking birthday next week, and you haven't brought it up once, you realize that, right?"

He knows he's right. Nothing he said was out of line, or wrong, and that's why Lando has nothing to say back. He wants to argue, to prove him wrong, but he can't. He's seen your ads and campaigns, the beautiful shots of you promoting luxury brands and names that your fans only dreamed of owning. Despite the distance, he was so proud of you still. You worked hard, were disciplined and humble through your success. He had texted you when the Dior campaign had launched, and the message of your thanks, with a smiley face, made him, for just a second, think that things were back to normal.

When they left the restaurant, and ran directly into fans, Lando tried to put on his best face for them, smiling for selfies and signing what was gestured toward him. When a sweet looking girl with glasses shyly spoke up, telling her favorite driver where she was visiting from, his tired eyes light up. "You're from there?" He confirms, and she smiles with an eager nod.

"Y/n is too," he almost mumbles, but every fan in earshot heard it. The typical squeals followed, the hushed whispers amonst themselves on if they'd push the questions they were itching to ask or not. And heard it they did, as the encounter made its way onto social media and gossip pages. But Max was right, his mourning period needed to be over, if anything was going to change for the better.

You call him on his birthday. It was nerve wracking, which made you bitterly laugh, because never did you think you'd be nervous to talk to Lando Norris of all people. One of the few people in the world you wholeheartedly trusted.

It had only been about a month since you requested time apart, and he had honored that. The texts were sparse, the calls nonexistent. Although, that was sort of what had brought you to this point anyway. But you were working on yourself, and your career at the same time, and things were looking better. Change never happened overnight, but the journal your therapist recommended, and the disappearance from social media besides professional posts were great starts.

You bite at your cuticle as the phone rings. You take your cell away from your ear, chest panging at the contact name "Lan <3" at the top of the screen. Was he really going to screen your call? Is that what you deserved, possibly?

"Y/n," he finally answers, and you quickly bring your phone back to your ear.

"Hi," you say awkwardly. "Happy birthday, Lando."

"Thank you," he says stiffly. "I'm happy to hear from you."

"Yeah I um, haven't really been on my phone here," you bite harder on your finger. "I think it's nice here, you'd love Marbella."

"I'm sure I would," he says with what you can hear is a smile. "I miss you, you know?"

"I miss you too," you concede, "how have you been?"

"Not great, I won't lie. Much rather would hear about you."

"'s not my birthday," and he smiles a bit at that.

"Well, racing's fine. But Max is sick of my shit, says I've been wallowing."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

You don't really know what to say, you've rarely been the perpetrator of his negative feelings. No relationship was perfect, but you all hadn't really hit a communication wall until now. It was uncharted, scary territory. "Well, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, that was all. Have a good day, really. 24 is a big one. Kobe year, that's what someone said to me. I hope this year is great for you."

"Y/n, wait," he halts your beginnings to hang up. "I'd like to come to see you soon, I've got some time before Abu Dhabi and maybe I could swing by Spain on the way."

"Lando," he absolutely hates that you're calling him by his whole name. Lan, that's what would you called him almost exclusively. Lando feels so formal from you.

He needs to hear it, you know he does. He needs to hear that you want to see him, that you need to see him just as much as he yearns to put eyes on you once more. But you were constantly afraid of accidental manipulation, holding him by some invisbile garotte. But this was his first birthday you hadn't celebrated together since you were 19, that meant something.

"Please focus on racing," you implore, and squeeze your eyes shut before adding, "but you if you'd like to come and it won't be an issue in your plans, you're more than welcome."

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

You saw the posts, it wasn't very hard. Fans utterly disappointed that you and Lando hadn't been seen together in ages, putting pieces together quickly after you didn't post for his birthday. It didn't make you feel worse, to be truthful, and to your surprise. You were sure there'd be a barrage of insults hurled your way, maybe a cheating rumor or two. But really, all there was to see were requiems for your relationship, nostalgia for what once was. What did cause you to delete instagram from your phone, was the response to the podcast.

You were single for the time being, that's what you and Lando had agreed on when he visited you. It wasn't an invitation to go out and find the next man to lay in your bed, but you both had agreed that it wasn't healthy to hold out in anticipation of your rekindling.

"You're the only girl I've, you know," he awkwardly trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. He sits up in bed, linens pooling around his hips. Hooking up with your now ex-boyfriend, might've not been your brightest idea, sure, but you were both human, at the end of the day.

"Fucked?" you tease, remaining comfortable against your plush pillow. "I know. First few times kinda showed that."

He looks back at you pointedly. "You cried the first time."

"It hurt!"

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head in fake annoyance. You grin. "I'm sure the girlies are gonna have a field day with you being single now,"

He rolls his eyes again, laying, or rathing slumping, back into the pillow next to you. His arm instinctively comes around the top of your head, you try not to lean into it. "I think I really will finally listen to you and focus on racing."

You turn on your side, admiring his profile as he stares up at the ceiling, probably tangled in his thoughts. His nose sloped perfectly, the little freckles dotting his skin like constellations. Your boy.

"I told my mum."

He snorts. "She hates me now, I'm sure."

"Mm, no, her first ask was what I did," your mom was Lando's biggest fan, through and through. Of course, you were her daughter, but she was convinced he was cosmically made perfectly for you.

He looks at you then, realizing your eyes have been on him the whole time. He copies your position, turning to you so your bodies lay parallel, nowhere to look but each other's eyes.

"Do you regret that I'm the only boyfriend you've ever had?"

You immediately shake your head in denial of the question. "No, not at all," you were lucky, if anything. "You?"

"Well, I've had other girlfriends,"

"Ouch?"

"You knew that," he chuckles, and yeah, you did. "But I don't regret that you're the only one I've been serious about. I still am."

"I know. I am too."

"An ex-boyfriend doesn't lay in bed with you, you know."

"And an ex-girlfriend doesn't still remind your team when your doctor's appointments are,"

"Fair enough, guess we're just weird."

You share a matching grin. "So weird."

So once Alex uploaded the Call Her Daddy episode you were a guest on, and it was official to the masses that you had been single for now almost 4 months, the articles came in. The timelines of you and Lando's relationship, the rumors of him leaving clubs with random girls. You'd be lying if you said you didn't zoom in on some of their faces, relaxing when you recongized most of them as friends or even family members. He wasn't yours to be worried about, you suppose, but you also knew that any girl he decided to share his time with would be a lucky one.

Your friends had tried to get you on dates, that wasn't a lie when you said that on the podcast. But you weren't ever excited to get to know someone new, small talk was painful and you didn't feel comfortable going home with them.

But then, a few weeks later into February, you get a phone call from Lando. "Hi," You answer, pleasently surprised.

"Hey there," he says, sounding slightly out of breath. "How are you?"

"I'm good, great even. Finished up everything down here, leaving Marbella next week to head back home." Home was London to you, not Monaco. You constantly visited, had a family flat there and everything, but couldn't leave officially becuause of your career.

"Congratulations, everything looked stunning," he compliments, and your stomach flutters.

"But um, how are you? I'd ask if you were relaxing, but I'm sure training's well underway."

"Meh, more or less. I'm heading to Surrey next week, actually. Got some stuff to do at HQ."

"Oh," Surrey was only about an hour and a half from where you were in London. "Would you, well, not assuming anything, but if you'd have time to spare, it would be great to catch up?"

This isn't why Lando called you, you fully know this. Who knows what he picked up the phone for, he could be calling to let you know he's eloped with someone he's met in the 6 months you've been apart.

"I'd love to," you hear his grin in his voice. "You haven't moved, have you?"

Not only had you not moved, but you haven't changed much about your flat either. Same bedding, same color schemes, same photos decorating your tables and walls of your friends, family, and Lando. He never took the photos of you down either, and that photo from your 21st birthday was still stuffed in his wallet.

You order takeout, sitting across the kitchen island from each other acting like it didn't feel like your first date again. He acts like he doesn't want to reach out for your hands as you animatedly use them to share stories of Spain, and you act like you don't want to push the curls back that threathen to land over his eyebrows.

The food gets cold as you two catch up, a few glasses of wine becoming a whole bottle gone. You actually can't remember the last time the two of you had done this, and perhaps, absence had truly made your hearts grow fonder.

"Bahrain is on leap day," Lando says, making you gasp.

"That's got to be good luck, no?"

"It's just the first practice,"

"But still, you're starting your first weekend of the year on a special day like that," you muse, "so exciting. I'm excited for you,"

His chest warms at endearment in your voice. You truly and honestly rooted for him through everything, that was one of the things he was most grateful for about you. He knows you don't truly care about all of this, if he won or lost, but that you care about him and his development, how he sees himself and his profession. He fell in love with that about you.

"Would you come?"

You hesitate, daring to look at him from where you had begun to clean the countertop. "To the race? "

He nods, and turn back to the counter. "I don't know, Lan. Is that where we are?"

He hopes so. He's missed you something horrible, prays you missed him just as bad.

Lando takes the cloth from your hand, replacing it with his own. "I know it's only been about 6 months, and that's not enough time to say everything's well and dandy," you fight a smile. "But I want to work through things, with you. I've had nothing but time to consider what was off with us, and I want to be better. For you, more than anything. Yeah, I learned how to be just Lando. But I know I prefer being Lando and Y/n."

You bite your lip, finally meeting his eyes. "I want to take it slow."

"We can do that,"

"So, I don't know if I'm ready for the race. But, my birthday's coming up,"

"It is,"

"And we'll be in Dubai. My sister did it up, got this crazy plan going since it'll be my 25th."

"Quite the old woman you're becoming,"

"Oh get off that," you scoff, pushing his chest. He chuckles and pulls you back into him, where you go willingly. "But, if you can, I'd love for you to come to the dinner."

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk. "You want me to fly to Dubai just for your birthday dinner?"

"You'll be in Saudi Arabia then anyway,"

The smirk gets bigger. "You know my schedule already, love?"

"You're so fucking cheeky, can't stand it," you feign annoyance, but never move from his arms.

He holds you, as your arms delicately find themselves behind his neck, not daring to kiss just yet. To really be honest, you're not sure if you're ready to take that whole plunge.

"I'm happy to be back, even if things are slow. They can be molasses for all I care."

"Thank you for being patient with me," you lean your forehead against his. However, this time, neither of you are crying. Nice, for a change.

"I'd wait decades for you, my love."

After a beat of sweet silence. You speak up once more. "One thing though," he hums to prompt your continuance. "I'm pretty sure, when it's said, it's Y/n and Lando, just so you know."

[pinkslashersimp]

Hello! May I request headcanons for NBC’s Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham with a Venom!fem!reader? The reader has a symbiote like her fellow investigative journalist Eddie Brock, but has not told her partners about her ‘little friend’ or that she eats really, very bad people until another symbiote, Carnage, shows up and attacks them on a night around the town or when they are all about to have dinner in Hannibal’s home? Thank you so much!

╰┈➤ Note: Hello!!! sorry this took so long, I’m volunteering (childcare practitioner) and I work as a chef on the weekend so my spare time is almost none existent 😭 this is my first time writing for someone with powers(???) - which i may start doing in the future bc my Marvel interest has peaked 👀 - so pls forgive me if this isn’t the best or is a little sloppy T-T

✎ Synopsis: You and Eddie both share a dark secret, which Hannibal and Will both suspect may be cannibalism. But when an enemy attacks, how will your work partners react to your true self?

Of course you’d kept it secret, had you told anyone, let alone Hannibal, about your or Eddies “little secret” it’s no doubt you both would’ve been institutionalised immediately.

You were very, very, sneaky about who you ate and where. Picking off rude people you saw in the store, men who are too crude to women, or following drivers who drive like dicks off the road to devour. People nobody would necessarily miss too much. They were never reported as murders, either, just missing.

Since you and Eddie are investigative journalists you would be assigned to these cases with the aid of Hannibal, but would quickly drop them, as there is “insufficient evidence” and it “simply could be anyone”

Hannibal believes you’re both lazy at first, dismissing cases, until he realises there’s a common theme going on between you both. People go missing in the same area, you’re both assigned to the case with his help, and suddenly the case is dropped with you both acting suspicious.

He, of course, does not think you’re symbiote. Just a classic cannibal murderer.

Will has his suspicions too, but instead of believing you’re cannibal murderers he simply believes perhaps you both know something about the missing people that you aren’t saying for whatever reason.

It displeases them both greatly.

Hannibal and Will both agree that the best course of action would be to host a dinner party at Hannibal’s home, to gain trust and open a discussion about the missing people.

And to potentially see if you recognise the taste of human meat…

You and Eddie both turn up to the party, in your smartest attire, ignoring the very sarcastic comments the symbiotes make as you both get ready.

When you are both seated, Hannibal and Will share glances with one another

You and Eddie share a glance too, after tasting the meat, silently confirming exactly what you have both just put in your mouthes. And Hannibal catches onto this.

He glances over at Will again, and before he can say anything a loud crash comes from the back of the dining room, as the window shatters upon impact when a giant, red symbiote with rage in its eyes crashes in

“What the FUCK-!?” Will shouts, pulling out his gun and firing into it as much as he can.

Hannibal stands and quickly moves away from it, as it snarls and takes every bullet from Wills gun. It turns to both you and Eddie as Venom emerges from you both, emerging from your skin like a sick, black, sweat.

Hannibal and Will both stand back in the doorway, watching in confused horror as the three of you fight it out in their dining room, you and Eddie quickly overpower carnage and he turns on his tail and runs out into the night, howling about coming back.

You both turn back and check on each other, before turning to your horrified friends in the corner.

“what the fuck was that…” Will asks, his gun pointed at the both of you, whilst Hannibal desperately tries to process what just happened.

Looks like you’ve both got too much explaining to do.

[fieldsofbats]

simon riley x waitstaff!reader

thank you to those who liked my first post <3 i am still v new to this and haven't quite figured out my preferred writing style so all feedback is welcome (be respectful tho).

part one

part two

right so at ur work it’s real common to have military folk there bc it is a military town, close to base, training facilities etc. 

first visit was just to the bar section of the place. price thought it would be good for moral to go out and have some chill team time, watch a football match and just hang out.

soap ordered some food and you brought it over to them. simon did not notice you bc he was watching the game, but then he got a whiff of soaps food and decided to grab something.

cue you coming back over with your sweet smile and handing him his food and cutlery before wandering back to the resturant bc its a quiet night.

mans is hooked.

second time ghost comes in it’s at night again but the restaurant is slammed bc it’s family week, everyone is getting dinner the night before they gotta head home. 

lbr, simon didnt think about you until soap wanted to go out again: "where are we goin'" "that place with the pretty server", knows exactly where they are going.

but still, your smile and warmth towards everyone is so kind and customer service is through the roof. yet he watches as you race around in and out of the kitchen with crazy ease and grace

like dude is impressed at you staying calm and steady despite how fuckin busy it is and people with their insane requests and demands for food (inpatient pricks)

he wants to stick around and watch u but it has become way to loud and busy for him so he bows out and goes back to his quiet room

simon strikes me as someone that likes to have as much regularity in his life as possible, why do you think 141 are literally the only people he has relationships with???

but mainly forms this routine bc he gets to see you, and he knows you will be there bc you’ve old him its your regular shift.

"you basically live here."

"haha no, i just make sure i get the shift with you."

the restaurant would make the booking for him in advance cause he never does but you know he is coming anyway so have it under ‘y/n's man’ (hasn’t told you his name) and ur coworkers think its super cute and funny

but he would make the effort to come in when it is quiet and has the chance to actually listen to you talk and see you interact with others on a more relaxed level BUT he wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you rushing around tables and weaving between guests who haven’t sat down

ngl he would find it hot watching you manage several orders and memorising different peoples requirements, all while keeping that sweet smile and polite manner

you can carry three plates?! this man is sweating under the mask

he doesn’t do a lot of the talking, only when you really prompt him or he is feeling a bit more extroverted that day. Doesn’t wanna talk about military shit with you but that’s all he does so he prefers to listen to you.

knows all the drama and gossip of the restaurant. glad to hear you are not dating the guy behind the bar and that you also don't like the receptionist because he perfume is to strong.

he will hang around and wait for it to die down to be able to talk to you. if it gets too loud for him he might just try and see you at the till as he leaves but has pushed through once or twice to talk to you.

something about you makes him feel more real, that he isn’t just some shell of a man, that he has a purpose. he likes that you treat him normally, the fresh slate you give him is like clean evening air.

ANYWAY it would take him ages to ask you out, like more than six/ seven months, and he would be so nervous (not to the point of stuttering or shaking bc this man is military he has been in worse situations, but his heart would be running a marathon and the self doubt would be just as loud)

but also protective ghost omgggg, he would be seething watching the old men be creepy and shit

knife and fork are down and he is up behind these men leering over them “excuse me, I just have a question about my meal.” just would say anything to get you out of that situation and back over to him. Or would just stand by the register staring down these men (this happens a lot more often than simon would like to admit)

always checks in when he is leaving to make sure he didn’t over step or make you uncomfortable by accident

[manygeese]

the fifth and final part of my valgrace sleeping beauty au. this is just them getting married bc they deserve it

Epilogue

Five years later, Jason was this close to punching his sister in the face. Thalia had abdicated her role as heir to the throne almost as soon as she had turned eighteen, and had since spent her time being a pain in the ass.

“Are you going to ask me if your dress makes you look bad? Because it does,” she commented with a sneer.

“I’m not wearing a dress,” Jason stated, turning away from the mirror to give her an annoyed stare.

“That’s because you’re a coward.”

Jason sighed, poking his head out of the door to find a messenger. Finding only Piper, he settled for her. “Can you ask Leo when he’ll be ready? Thanks, Pipes.” He ducked back into the room.

“Clingy much? Jason, man, you gotta work on this. Your precious fiancé’s gonna get sick of you if you keep it up.” She cackled, finding herself endlessly funny.

“I’m going to hit you.”

~*~

Leo was studying himself in the mirror, trying to decide if he looked good in white or not. He jumped when he heard the knock at the door, seeing as Beckendorf had promised not to let anyone in. “Come in,” he called anyways.

Piper barged in and flopped onto his bed. “You need to hurry up,” she said.

Leo sighed. “I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one today.” He sat on the bed next to her. “Two questions: why do I need to hurry and do I look good in white?”

Piper sat up urgently. “Of course you look good in white. White is your color.”

“You say that about every color.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Be stubborn. But Thalia’s being annoying and I think your fiancé is gonna go into cardiac arrest if he has to deal with her any longer. And if he dares to have a heart attack today of all days, you know Hera is going to kill him even if he survives.”

“True. But consider the following-“

“If you say you’re not going through with this, Hera’s gonna kill you.”

“Of course I’m going through with it!” He held a hand to his chest dramatically. “I was going to say that I think my hair could use some work.”

Piper scoffed and motioned for him to turn around so she could do his hair. “Is that it? We’ll have you ready in no time.”

~*~

Jason was impossibly closer to punching his sister and father in the face. Maybe his mother too, if he was feeling ambitious.

Thalia was, in her words, “hyping him up” as his best man. By that, she meant she was making fun of him in front of both their kingdom and Leo’s. He was fairly certain no one could hear her, but it didn’t make the situation any better. Meanwhile, his father was asleep in his chair, no doubt because of his hangover from the rehearsal dinner.

His mother was fussing in her caring, if chaotic, way. She had tightened his tie more times than he could count, and wiped imaginary dirt off his face even more. Currently, she was prepping the altar where she would officiate for the wedding and discussing the number of chairs with King Hephaestus. Jason was impatiently waiting for the moment his “bride,” as Thalia affectionately called him, would walk down the aisle.

As if on cue, which it most definitely was, organ music started and the audience quieted. “Aren’t you supposed to be with them?” Jason whispered to Thalia as the people of honor walked towards them.

“That’s for losers,” she said like it was obvious.

Piper and Hazel walked arm in arm to the altar, splitting off once they got there. Hazel elbowed Thalia when she got into her place. Thalia didn’t straighten up, only leaning on the flower arch more heavily.

Next was Annabeth. She gave Thalia a serious glare as she passed, which was quickly transformed into a hesitant smile when Thalia replied with a silly face.

A couple more of Jason’s cousins and Leo’s friends walked down after, rounding out the lines on both sides. He tapped his foot as he waited for the last, most eagerly awaited person to arrive.

Finally, Leo proceeded down the walkway, arm in arm with his mother. The other prince was positively beaming, like he almost always was, but there was something special about it today. It was contagious- by the time he made it to the altar, Jason was smiling ear to ear like an idiot. Thalia was gonna make so much fun of him for this.

Sure enough, he heard an annoying giggle from behind him. Deciding to be the bigger person, Jason took a deep breath and tried to keep the frustration off his face. He was barely aware of his mother talking beside him.

“I do,” Leo chirped, probably in response to whatever Queen Hera said. Jason was too busy admiring at his soon-to-be-husband’s smile.

“And do you, Jason Grace, take Leo Valdez to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” Jason sighed happily, without a doubt in his mind.

~*~

The three good fairies watched as the happy couple finished their first dance and disappeared into the crowd.

“All thanks to me,” Piper said as she sipped her champagne.

“Thanks to you?” Annabeth asked incredulously. “How is it thanks to you?”

“I put the spell on him that allowed him to find his true love.”

“By that logic, this is all thanks to Gaea,” Hazel piped up.

“Gaea?” Annabeth was getting surprisingly frustrated for a day as happy as that one.

“She put the first curse on the baby, and that was the only reason Piper had to put a spell on Leo, so he never would’ve found his true love if not for Gaea.” Hazel flagged the waiter down for more champagne. She had a feeling Annabeth might need it.

“How do you know that I wasn’t going to give him the true love spell as my original gift, Hazel?” Piper retorted.

Hazel scoffed. “Because no one in their right mind would tell a literal newborn who they’re gonna grow up to marry. Especially with no good reason. That’s creepy, Piper.”

Piper made to grab the new bottle of champagne to refill her glass. “Well, I think it’s sweet-“ Annabeth snatched the bottle away to use for her own nefarious purposes.

~*~

“Do you think they’re arguing?” Leo looked over his husband’s- he couldn’t get over the fact he could call Jason his husband now- shoulder to the three good fairies in the balcony. His eyes widened when he saw Annabeth drink her alcohol straight from the bottle.

“Can’t see ‘em. I only have eyes for you,” Jason whispered into his ear. Leo could hear the smile in his husband’s- there it was again- voice. He couldn’t help but match it.

Leo giggled giddily. “Well, Annabeth just chugged a whole pitcher of champagne, and Piper is at Hazel’s neck for some reason.” Jason snorted.

Out of the blue, Piper appeared in a cloud of glitter next to them. Leo looked at her exasperatedly as he wiped the sparkles off of his suit. “Don’t look at me like that, this is important!” She cried.

He swished his champagne around in his glass. “Well, go ahead and enlighten us, Pipes.”

“Who do you think is responsible for all this?” She wagged her finger between the two of them.

They stood in a baffled silence for a moment before Jason spoke. “By ‘all this’, do you mean our marriage?” He asked. He sighed when she nodded.

Leo barked out a laugh. He shook his head disbelievingly as he considered the answer to Piper’s question. “Um, besides us, probably Hera.”

His husband hummed as he nodded. “She is something of a matchmaker,” Jason agreed.

Piper groaned. “Goddamnit. Annabeth is going to laugh so hard at me.”

~*~

Author’s Note

We OFFICIALLY did it! Yayyyyy. Not going to lie I hate this with a burning passion 🤗 I think I could’ve done better ❤️❤️❤️ especially the last segment 😃 but Thalia is surprisingly fun to write and I love her. Thank you @scentednightdonut for helping me edit :)) and thank all of y’all for reading!!! Now my purpose is completed and I can finally find peace

The people who wanted tags from my original post (let me know if you want to be untagged):

@queenjunothegreat

@acetheta

[shadowqueenjude]

lolol Acofas rewrite to make a tamsand moment bc why not

Only I'm turning Tam into a bisexual female. Also changing the POV because Rhys sucks.

Warning: Bondage (No smut), Suicidal Tam

"Lucien claimed you would come," Tamlina said dully. "Funny, I thought his mate was the seer," Rhysand answered. A twisted barb, another dig. A reminder that Rhysand had a mate and Lucien did too. Archeron mates, no less. But Tamlina did not. The pain swooped through Tamlina again. A never-ending ache. She had screwed things up with Feyre, and she had run into Rhysand's arms. She still couldn't believe that the male who'd sexually assaulted her under the mountain turned out to be her mate. Tamlina had been whole-heartedly convinced Feyre was her mate. But perhaps same-sex mating bonds did not exist, for Thesan had yet to receive a mating bond with his male lover. Perhaps the system was just in place to pair up males and females who would make the most powerful offspring. And the Mother had manipulated Feyre into falling in love with a monster.

A monster she, too, had once cared for. Whose life she'd saved not only for Feyre's sake but her own. Bitterness flowed through her again. "What do you want," she asked shortly.

"I came to have a little chat," he said with a half grin. A handsome smile, but entirely soulless. Tamlina wanted to tear it apart with her bare hands. "Can I trouble you for a cup of tea?"

Tamlina led him through the house, knowing that Rhys noted the complete disarray. She couldn't bring herself to care. She only said, "If you've come here to gloat, you can spare yourself the effort." She already knew he had won, after all. Rhys put a hand on his chest in mock humility. "Why should I bother?" Tamlina ignored it. "What did you want to talk about?" He made a good show at surveying the house before saying, "Where's my dear friend Lucien?"

My. Not our, or hers. Another twisted barb. A reminder that Lucien had left her for Night. No less than Tamlina had deserved for how she'd treated him. Yet Lucien had come back. Yet he was the only one who remembered her. Probably the only reason she was still alive.

"Hunting for our dinner." "No taste for such things these days?" "He left before I was awake."

Rhys lounged in a chair, turning it into a throne. "What's this I hear about you not enforcing your borders?" He couldn't be serious, could he? After all, it was his whore that had caused this problem. Tamlina gestured around them. "Do you see any sentries to do it?"

"Feyre did her work thoroughly, didn't she." A combination of rage and sorrow rose to the surface once more. She bared her teeth at him. "With your coaching, I have no doubt."

"Oh no, that was all her. Clever, isn't she." Tamlina dug her nails into her armchair trying to resist the urge to cry. It was a miracle she still had tears left to cry. "I thought the High Lord of the Night Court couldn't be bothered to brag."

"I suppose you think I should be thanking you, for stepping up to assist in reviving me." He thought wrong then. There was a time where Tamlina would've expected such a thing. There was a time where Rhysand would've worshipped the ground she walked on. That time, that boy, was gone. The male before her was someone she didn't know. Tamlina wished she didn't have a moral code. If she had been a slightly lesser female, she would've left Rhysand to rot. But her stupid, soft heart could not bring herself to do it. "I carry no such illusions. I'm fully aware that the day you thank me for anything, Rhysand, is the day the burning fires of hell go cold."

"Poetic."

All those times in the war band creating limericks had served her well, she wanted to say. But she lacked the energy to say the words. She hardly had any energy at all.

"You saved my mate's life on several occasions. I will always be thankful for that." Again the word mate stabbed her in the heart. I didn't do it for you, she wanted to shout. But who had she done it for, then? Feyre, the girl who had shattered her heart and her court? Rhys, the male who was glad to do it with her? Tamlina had terrible taste in males and females, it seemed.

"Does she know you're here?" were the words that came out instead. "Oh, she certainly does. And she was as disturbed as I was to learn that your borders are not as enforced as we'd hoped."

As if it wasn't Feyre's fucking fault they were in this predicament. Anger surged through her. "With the wall gone, I'd need an army to watch them."

"That can be arranged."

The Mother herself would die before Tamlina accepted even a cent of Rhysand's aid. "I'm not letting your ilk onto my lands."

“My ilk, as you call them, fought most of the war that you helped bring about. If you need patrols, I will supply the warriors.”

Ironic- so terribly ironic that Rhysand blamed her for the war. As if he hadn't gladly licked Amarantha's boots for fifty years. Tamlina had worked as a double agent against Hybern to bring her love back safely from males who played with minds like toys, and she'd done it knowing that having an in with Hybern would give them a chance to control the inevitable war.

"My war?" She said quietly. "My war? Who gladly served as Amarantha's executioner for decades? Who was happy to murder a dozen children as long as you got off unscathed? And for what, Rhysand? Last time I checked, your people are still heavily oppressed."

"My people are not oppressed, as you would know if you-"

"I know about Velaris," Tamlina interrupted. She stalked up to Rhysand, looking up into his eyes. Most claimed the Night Court High Lord had violet eyes, but Tamlina knew better. They were blue- a very deep blue that in some lighting appeared violet. But blue all the same. "And that, Rhysand, is not equality. Separation of different people is not equality. It's not the Prythian I was fighting for."

"Then what exactly, were you fighting for, Tamlina? This?" He gestured to the ruins of the Spring Court. Tamlina hadn't been able to dredge up the energy to care anymore. Most days, she barely even ate. If it hadn't been for Lucien's constant visits and fussing over her like a nanny, there wouldn't be a bone in her body you couldn't see. But Rhysand's words drew up the hurt again. The pain that her world, her people, everything had collapsed around her. She welcomed the pain. At least it was a feeling, and that was better than nothing.

"Until you ruined it all for me," she said quietly. She could feel the tears coming to her eyes again, and she ran away, not wanting to cry in front of Rhysand. Like hell would she show that kind of weakness in front of him. Like hell would she give him that satisfaction.

She thought she sensed a flicker of guilt on Rhys as she ran away, but she ignored it. She waited until she was out of sight before she shapeshifted into a tiny creature. The waterfall of sadness had been replaced by anger. The two emotions always came together with Tamlina. She spotted the discarded bat with which she used to play fireball with Lucien, a sport native to the Autumn Court that he'd introduced to her. She fluttered near the bat as Rhysand searched for her.

"Tamlina?" he called. "Look, I'm s-" It sounded as if he was about to apologize before he choked on the word, his ego getting the better of him. He never could admit when he was wrong.

Quiet as a mouse, Tamlina shapeshifted back into her normal body. Then she soundlessly grabbed the bat and slammed it into the back of Rhysand's head so hard that he thumped to the ground with a rumble that shook the house.

(Brief Rhys POV)

When Rhysand woke up, his body was fully chained to a chair. He tried to move, to work his way out of the chains, physically and with his magic when Tamlina strode towards him. Even in her lifeless state, staring down at him, Tamlina was the most beautiful female Rhys had ever seen. Guilt originating from the mating bond slid through him, but it was true. Her wavy golden hair tickled his hands as her dark green eyes pinned him in place.

"Don't bother to try and get out of those chains," she crooned. A little more spark in her voice than earlier. "Those chains are made of ash wood. You will die before you can get out of them."

Ash wood? Why the hell did Tamlina have that? He must have said the words out loud, for Tamlina smiled bitterly. "Courtesy of Eris Vanserra. He has a collection, you know. He offered me just a little bit, though. For a cost. I kept it in case I ever decided to..." the words trailed off. But Rhys knew what she meant.

In case I ever decided to end my life.

What had he done? He had goaded a depressed female, Tamlina no less. He had just wanted to get a rise out of her, banter with her as they had in the past. But...he had gone too far. Much too far.

"Why so horrified, Rhys? Last I remembered, you used to enjoy being tied up."

Rhys felt hot all over at her words. Tamlina smiled. "Still affected by me. I knew it."

"Let me out."

"No. I have a reason for keeping you chained up, you see. Your little Inner Circle is going to get worried about you and come for you. And I've been longing for a good fight."

"They'll destroy you."

"I'm a High Lady. A real one, not the bullshit title you handed Feyre. Feyre only has power because it was handed to her. My power...it's raw. Straight from the Mother herself. They'll have a hard time beating me even if I'm alone. Plus," she put a hand to his cheek, and Rhysand shuddered, "I have leverage." She stared at him for a long moment before walking away.

Rhysand didn't breathe, couldn't breathe, until Tamlina left the room.

[dareactions]

SO SO SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU BACK

Don't you mind writing Dorian/Inquisitor marriage proposal? We were so robbed at the end of the game please.

Okay, so I haven't played Dorians romance in a while, so excuse me if its a bit OOC here. Tried my best to keep his personality in check lmao.

I decided to do the Inquisitor proposing to Dorian rather than the other way around, bcs our man deserves that. (Altho I do have an idea for him proposing as well maybe.)

Dorian can feel that something is off, it's in the air. It's that odd peculiar shift that sometimes passes by unknowingly and gradually but he can pinpoint the exact moment it occurred, it was two weeks ago during dinner. His amatus, the love of his life, the savior of the world- all that very important stuff, looked up at him with the most peculiar look and ever since it's been off.

''You'd tell me, if the world was ending again, wouldn't you?'' He speaks up from his seat near the open fireplace, his love glancing up from the mabari that had kept his focus for most of the night. Dorian didn't actually mind the dog as much as he thought he would. It's kind of cute, in a saliva slobbering kind of way. ''Yes, I'd like to think so. Why? Am I glowing green again?'' The joke falls horribly flat, Dorian does absolutely not smile whatsoever thank you very much.

''No, you're not glowing green. You're just being weird lately. Weirder than usual.'' Dorian can't help but huff, putting his book on the side-table with a lazy arm, it makes an uncomfortably loud 'thud' sound upon hitting the wood and he can't help but frown. ''I'm not being weird, you're being weird.'' Is the lame counter his boyfriend offers, focusing back on the mabari with a laugh.

Except Dorian knows that isn't it, not quite. ''No. Something is off, what is it? You told me after- after everything you'd be more honest.'' After the arm. After the mark almost tore him apart, he'd promised Dorian wholeheartedly to not keep a single thing from him.

His amatus stares for a long moment, long enough for Dorian to fidget in his chair. He pulls at the fabric of his linen shirt, and pushes a hand through his hair in an attempt to look less nervous at bringing up the promise. ''It's not the right moment.'' He finally responds, soft words that are barely heard over the crackling fire. ''I don't care about it being the right moment, if something is wrong I want to know.'' His words have far more bite in them than Dorian intends and he sighs after a while.

''Nothing is wrong, I promise.'' His lover stands up and makes his way across the room, and Dorian tries to not pout as a warm hand makes it to his knee. It's such a gentle motion he probably would've cried had it been done a few years ago.

''Then tell me.'' Dorian pushes and his love dares to smile that stupidly charming smile and make his chest clench in affection. He'd love this man until he died, well and truly. There was no other way around it.

''Very well, but you can't come and complain to me that I didn't do it properly later.'' He sighs and Dorian perks up, sitting up attentively and ignoring the laughter that makes the smallest hint of embarrassment rear its head.

''We've been through a lot, too much probably. And I honestly wasn't sure if I'd survive long enough to ask this. For a while it seemed like I'd be robbed of the chance to do so before it even seemed a possibility.'' Their hands interlink and Dorian for the millionth time notices all the small scars that cover his lovers hand. They speak tales of battles fought before and after they met, struggles nobody could ever dare to try and understand.

''But there was never a doubt in my mind. Because you are the most brilliant man I've ever met, compassionate enough for both us and snarky enough.'' ''Excuse you, I will have you know-'' Dorian interrupts but quickly gets shushed with a grin. ''Shush, I'm being romantic, love.'' His love laughs, pressing a kiss against Dorian's hand and sure enough its enough to shut him up.

''What I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted. Is that you have enough positive qualities that I could write more than a few books about it. You know, normally people have enough time to write speeches down for these things- but you just had to be so perceptive.'' Dorian should probably be annoyed at that, but he just grins- the most proud smug look that he could manage right now when he feels the need to cry sneak up on him.

''You're tearing up, oh, andraste's tits-'' ''Amatus, hurry up and ask so I can say yes.''

''Dorian, will you marry me?'' The question is barely asked before Dorian kisses him, all giggly and warm and far too eager. They stumble to the floor and their laughter bounces off the walls of the study, Dorian's tears an annoying addition he'd lie about later if asked.

''Yes, I'll marry you. I'll marry you a hundred times over, fall in love with you in every life possible- you absolute fool, I followed you to the ends of the world, of course I'll marry you.''

Dorian followed him to the ends of the world and he'd do it again, but this time he'd much prefer if they had matching rings for the occasion.

[mariatesstruther]

Okay but what about hairDresser!maria?

Sarah is growing up and starts to get more vain with herself, and tommy notices she's having a hard time with her hair. So after he picks up the girls from school for joel, tommy leads all of them to the salon and that's where they meet maria. Man just imagine maria giving sarah all the tips for her hair and trying different hair styles🥺Maria focusing on braiding sarah's hair and trying to ignore all of tommy's flirt attempts lmao. And cute little ellie asking for braids too awwwwwwwww

we LOVE hairstylist maria over here!!!! i could’ve sworn i made a hairdresser au already where tommy takes sarah to salons and maria teaches her to do her hair but i cant find it 😭😭😭

i do imagine that as sarah grows up past like 4-5 and realizes her hair is different from most people around her, she’d be less vain and more self-conscious (i really doubt you meant vain in that way so don’t worry about it, im just sensitive to language regarding black little girls and their hair). austin texas in the 1990s-2000s was only about 10% percent which isnt bad, but i know from growing up in a predominantly white area that it heavily impacted how i saw myself and my hair.

i LOVE the idea that tommy and joel would put extra effort, as much as they could, into making sure sarah’s hair is loved and taken care of. i love the idea that maybe they start taking her to the salon as soon as she’s old enough, like 3-4, to sit in a chair long enough to get herself and her hair pampered

so here’s some actual plot: maybe sarah has a regular hair stylist that she’s gone to since she was literally 2, mama shirley (HEY MAMA SHIRLEY LETS BRING U INTO ANOTHER AU). unfortunately mama shirley is getting older, her hands not as agile and quick as they used to be, and she tells the miller boys that she’s planning to retire soon. they’re both pretty anxious about it because sarah like routine and sameness, and getting her hair done is already enough of a feat for her with all her sensory issues, which mama shirley always accommodates for. luckily, mama shirley assures them she’s found a brilliant replacement that’s she’s been training for months

when sarah meets maria, it’s like the little girl is meeting an in real life princess. maria has long, long, long locs that go all the way to the back of her knees, some streaked blue and purple and pink—all sarah’s favorites. maria has gentle hands and rounded nails that feel good when they scratch at sarah’s scalp in the washbowl, just like mama shirley’s. she has a whole punch of stim toys and fun charms on her locs, necklaces, and bracelets that she lets sarah reach up and play with while she works.

she talks to joel and tommy about their life with her and how she’s doing in school and how they take care of her hair at home, making gentle suggestions here and their based on her own experiences growing up as a black girl in a predominantly white area—fuckin’ omaha, nebraska. she lets joel and tommy step in and try whatever she’s doing with sarah’s hair. tommy, bless him, is so nervous and into her that his hands are way clumsier than usual. luckily, his poor attempts just make her laugh and place her hands next his to show him how to smooth out sarah’s hair correctly, without flicking the product all over himself and his shirt

she remains sarah’s hairstylist for years, and tommy falls in love with her slowly at first, considering he only really sees her once every four weeks. eventually he starts going in for his own hair, then offers to do free repairs for the salon—then, finally, maria pulls him into the back room one day and says “ya know, miller, you don’t have to work here to spend time with me. you can just ask me out.”

“i—i can?”

“you can. you’ve taken long enough.”

“i—uh. alright. sorry to keep you waitin’, ma’am. dinner? tonight?”

“dinner sounds good :)”

gonna tag my hair babies @boilingcowboy and @clickergossip bc i feel like they’d appreciate this idk and i feel like rose may be the only person to remember my other hairstylist au 😭

[its-tiamat]

Hello! Good luck on your driving exam and your uni :D I want to request something, but no need to rush okay, take your time ^^ sooo my request is.... shigaraki, miruko, and hawks (oh and it's only if you're alright with three characters ofc!) headcanons! welllll so... i'm this type of person who sings when i'm doing something, whether it's doing chores, playing games, or working on my homeworks. i also sing to my cat and act as if i'm a disney character ksskjsjs. Anddd yeah if it's okay i want to request hcs with this type of s/o who sings in their daily life as if they're a disney/musical character ksksks i hope my request makes sense!! Thank you so much, I hope you're doing great!

|| WITH A S/O THAT LIKES TO SING ||

Awww this is so sweet! Anyway, sorry for the long wait, I'm usually faster with requests but yeah. Uni. I'll probs be a bit slower with requests now, but I hope you'll keep liking my lil headcanons!

Pairings: Shigaraki × reader • Miruko × reader • Hawks × reader

Shigaraki looked at you weird when he noticed you dancing around your house, watering your plants and singing to them.

You stopped when your eyes met his, and raised a brow as to ask him if everything was alright.

"Plants can't hear you," he said.

"But you can." You smiled.

He scoffed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. Of course he could hear you. How could you be so relaxed around a deadly villain was still a mystery to him.

"I...'msorry. Didn't wanna bother." You lowered your head, thinking how annoying you must have sounded to him.

"No!" Tomura lifted his hand, as to reach you as you turned around to silently complete your chore. "I like it. Kinda. It's just... unusual."

People were always so stiff around him, yet here you were singing and dancing with a watering can in your hands. For unusual that it was, he had found himself listening to your songs, muttering along to your favorite ones when you weren't listening.

He took a step, half turning on himself in a cranky emulation of your dance, before tripping on his own feet and falling to the ground. You failed to keep in your laugh, as he groaned and moved his hair to the side to look up at you.

"I like it. Please, don't stop singing."

He makes sure you never doubt how much he enjoys hearing your voice again. However, I don't think he'd try to dance with you again soon, he'd be too embarrassed.

Rumi, on the other hand, isn't one to join you or shower you in compliments, although she totally doesn't mind listening to you sing

She'd be the type to have voice notes of you singing that she listens to when she's having a rough day, without ever mentioning it to you. She fears it would cringe you too much.

But I mean, it's so relaxing to listen to you singing as you cook dinner, whenever she can get to stay for dinner and forger her responsibilities for a while.

If you're really really lucky you might hear her humming along to your favorite songs, but it's almost impossible to hear her sing out loud.

Yep, she's kinda self conscious bc her voice is more on the contralto side so she can't really hit those high "princess notes" you nonchalantly sing in. I feel like she'd be one to shrug off your reassurance on how pretty her voice really is, but it could actually have a deep impact on how she perceives herself.

The only way to get her to sing a bit is to blast loud ass music in the car and let her drive down a highway at top speed.

Those are the only times she sings more than you, mostly because you're busy gripping your seat

"Rumi babe, couldn't you slow do-"

"Hah! Like hell! Dis song is fire!"

He loves loves loves hearing you sing, and showers you with compliments.

"Mmmh babe your voice is so pretty."

"You sing so well, it's like a lullaby."

Also calls you "My little Songbird" and it melts your heart every time.

Sometimes youre doing your homework in your room while he's busy outside or in another room when you start singing, and after a few seconds some red feathers start twirling around you as he wants to hear you better.

He's loves pretending to be in a musical with you, and will totally duet you if you ask him to. He still prefers to listen to your voice than to his own of course, but there's something so intimate to him in hearing your voices harmonizing over the lyrics.

Wanna dance in the living room, hand in hand like that scene in The Beauty & The Beast? Asking him may sound a little corny, but he's already smiling like a lovestruck idiot simply at the idea of doing it.

Again, there are feathers everywhere as he doesn't want to lose the tune of your voice if the music is too loud.

Also because romantic mood, and it's like dancing in a rain of red rose petals.

He will fall asleep if you sing to him, like hum to him softly while combing his hair with a hand and it's a matter of seconds before he's sleeping soundly.

masterlist

taglist: @ok-what-now-huh  @liberace2 @whiteusagi   @help-idk-what-my-life-is @comehome2myheart   @peachysuguru   @iam-mentally-unstable

tell me if you want to be added!

[redwayfarers]

so i made a thing i refuse to edit but here's a stupid little nika and magnai thing that's been in my head all fucking day. with a side of nika + artoirel bc they're THE otp

After the Naadam, Magnai was obviously displeased. The Oronir tribe should’ve won, without any doubt, and the little Mol were supposed to stay just that, little. Yet they’d managed to gather allies - outsiders even - and thus, until the next Naadam, the mighty Oronir are dethroned, and the Mol are just slightly bigger than they normally are.  Even in his displeasure, though, he has to admit that he finds the outsiders interesting. There’s a Doman, Hien, and his samurai friend. There are also hyur - a man and a woman. The woman Magnai cares little about, but the man catches his attention the moment the Oronir warriors bring them before him.  There’s something in his eyes, Magnai thinks. They are of different colors, but that’s the least interesting thing about them. They’re hard, they offer a challenge; when Magnai speaks, they follow the man’s words with equal defiance. He introduces himself as Nika, in a voice that still rings of boyhood, even if his body is that of a man.  Magnai later learns he also sings. But before he heard his ballads and tales, he heard his bow sing in the Naadam, and that’s what stayed with him. Nevermind that he heard Nika actually sing later, in the celebrations of the Mol’s victory, and that there was so much joy in it that it almost made Magnai forget his pride was wounded.  This man is no ordinary outsider, Magnai decides. Not only is he a khagan, but also a bowman that rivals the Oronir, and he sings songs that can make stars weep. Too bad that when their eyes meet, Nika still looks as defiant as he did back before the Naadam even took place.  Even worse, Magnai likes it that way. 

“Care to burn that dinner off, Magnai?” Nika asks. The sun is setting behind the Dawn throne, making his black hair stand out against the warm sea of rays behind him. It paints his skin with light, or maybe that’s the brilliant flash of teeth he gives Magnai as he stretches his neck. “Been sitting for a long fucking time. Isn’t it time for your twentieth daily wrestling or something?”  “That is a form of exercise, khagan,” Magnai responds, voice on edge. He takes another hard bite of meat and chews loudly. “One needs food to do it.”  “I think I know a guy who’d stare at you dead in the face for chewing like that,” Nika grimaces. Then his face changes. “I would like to see him stare you down, though. Just to see who wins. Unstoppable force against an immovable object.”  Magnai frowns. “Who is this man? Are you challenging me on his behalf?”  Nika stares. Then he bursts out laughing, like Magnai just told the funniest joke on the Steppe. Women don’t laugh at him like that, only his warrior brothers and apparently, the outsider khagan. “He has zero idea you exist at all, Magnai.”  “Take me to him! We take the yol and fly to wherever he is!” Magnai drops his plate on the ground and raises his chin. Nika’s face contorts as if he’s trying so hard to not laugh still, and then the mask breaks and he wheezes out even more laughter.  “I am not taking you to Ishgard,” Nika says in between laughs, but Magnai has no idea where Ishgard is, nor who this mysterious man may be, he only knows he doesn’t like being laughed at, and here is Nika, near crying from how hard he’s laughing. His scar scrunches around his forehead as he wipes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Artoirel would end me on sight. I care about a few people’s opinions, and his is one of them, so no, you’re not going to Ishgard, yol or no yol.” Magnai stands up. “You are in the Steppe–”  “And you’re the big bad Oronir leader guy. Brother of the Sun, was it? I respect that. You can make me break a sweat. But!” Nika raises a finger and lifts a brow. “Until the next Naadam, you’re not khagan. If that frustrates you, we can fight it out. But no Ishgard! Khagan’s orders, or whatever.”  He holds Magnai’s stare. Magnai has to admit to himself he likes that, too. 

Magnai’s vindicated heart soars when he has Nika in his room, pressed against the wall with little room to move, let alone escape. The indignancy on his face, expressive as ever, makes Magnai laugh, tall and powerful over him.  “What now, khagan?” Magnai asks, his delight obvious.  Nika claws at his skin and attempts to kick him in the shins. His hair’s in disarray, his clothes too. All of this delights Magnai to a degree he hasn’t felt in a long, long while.  “Don’t lord over me, you asshole,” Nika bites out. His breath comes out faster.  “What now, khagan?” Magnai repeats.  Nika pulls him by the horns. “This is what, you giant lizard,” he says roughly and kisses him hard. 

“We can count on you in Doma, then?” It’s the last night before Nika and the outsiders leave, with a promise of the Xaela and their yol in the upcoming battle, and it’s also the last night Magnai has to look at the uninterrupted expanse of Nika’s skin. He’ll miss it; he’ll miss its touch, he’ll miss the silky black hair, but above all, he will miss Nika’s defiant, mismatched eyes.  “Yes. Nothing threatens the Steppe.” Magnai leans on his elbow. “Good to know. Garleans are shit for everyone.” Nika settles on the bed. “What?”  “You are leaving tomorrow. I’d like to look at you.”  “No khagans this time around?”  “By the time you come to the Steppe next, you will not be one.” Magnai smiles. “You are not my Nhaama, but this was pleasant.”  “I lack tits to be your Nhaama, for one. Number two, even if I had them, I’d still not be the woman you want.” Nika turns to the side and grabs the covers. Small firelight illuminates the scar on his hand. “You don’t need tits to be a woman, but you know what I meant. As a final word of advice on that, women like it when you’re not an acerbic and prideful fuck.” He laughs, but it’s a shaky sound. “Take it from me. Otherwise, this was pleasant for me too.” Magnai laughs. “I’ll see you on the field of battle, Nika. Together, Nhaama or not, we will bring the Garlean empire to its knees. Nothing defeats the yol of the Xaela.”  Nika raises a hand. “Don’t have a drink with me, but here’s to seeing Garleans fall once and for all. And to you finding that damn Nhaama.” He then smiles, and it’s a soft, gentle thing. “I think I already found mine.”  In the morning, as Nika is flying off to save Doma, Magnai watches him go. He will really, really miss Nika’s eyes.

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

Stared at these for a while bc I think I already know how you'd answer a lot of these qlfjakkd so I'll offer you ✨️ 🔥 🌿 (that last one is just an open invitation at all times. Your taste is impeccable and i demand all the recs you are willing to give me lmao)

✨favourite platonic BG3 dynamic and why?

Oooooh. Fascinating. Good question. Ok, it’s SLIGHTLY cheating because of the changeable nature of it but I love Mayrina’s responses to Tav - her initial grief, anger and pushback, and then her trust in them.

Oh also I LOVE Karlach and Lae’zel’s banter about owls. They don’t have chemistry to me, but I enjoy Karlach drawing out Lae’zel’s more low-stakes thoughts, though they’re delivered with the same intensity she gives everything lol.

Also, it’s more implied than shown since they have no screentime together, but I like the professional relationship between Cerys and Zevlor. I think she respected him a lot before the Absolute incident and it makes the whole “betrayal” harder for her to swallow. Or maybe I’m just making shit up here, lol. Anyway, I’m effectively writing her as Zevlor’s right hand woman in Planar Tears, so I suspect she will have FEELINGS that get at least incidentally shown there.

🔥is there an aspect of the game’s story that you think it could have done better?

I think the common answer to this is “Wyll”, and I 100% agree. I’m on team “Ulder was a good dad, but too rigid” and think that Ulder can apologise and make amends. I want to see the Ravenguards happy, despite Ulder’s mistakes. Anyway. In that quest line Wyll says he’s going to throw a celebration dinner, and for some reason I felt the game REALLY cued us up to expect a cutscene there. And it would have been great! Even just a short one with your current party around the fire and Wyll toasting to the memory of Ansur or something?! Come on! This would have been a great place for more Wyll, to really make it HIS storyline instead of Emps. And also to add a bit of platonic bonding. (We need a tiefling party equivalent in Acts 2 and 3, and the High Hall only slightly counts. I will die on this hill!)

Otherwise… I find the handling of Shadowheart’s story a little annoying, honestly. I personally find it hard to want to do a massive “trust fall” when the consequences are possibly killing an innocent woman whom hundreds of lives depend on (and who is a powerful ally). Like, it’s fine, I’m ok with just letting her leave my party over the fact I just straight up am not interested in playing trust games with her at one of the crucial moments in the game, but it does feel like the game believes “trusting her” is the right decision there and… it hasn’t set up enough doubt on Shadowheart’s part to earn that, I don’t think, and if if there were… it’s a fucking person, we’re talking about here. Your beautiful gesture of trusting Shart is playing dice with a tortured, devastated prisoner’s life.

🌿 a recommendation!

Ahahaha THE PRESSURE ;) jk

I don’t know how you feel about modern AUs, but @ra-scheln recommended me this amazing Gale/Karlach fic where she’s the piercer he’s booked to get a Prince Albert. It radiates Karlach’s warmth and Gale’s endearing slight-awkwardness (and it’s hot lol). I hadn’t thought about the pairing before this fic but DAMN.

[novacqnes]

hi it’s me, i’m back (blue moon pt 2 asker hehehe)… since we’re all so invested now, may i suggest another continuation that u can absolutely ignore if you’d like! but what about one where lupe convinces her to come over to the house to have dinner with the peaches/introduces her as a friend and somewhere in the night they get frisky and jess walks in on them and ms holiday is gobsmacked and they find out jess knew the whole time bc she walked in on them in the locker room as well…….. my brain is running a million miles an hour and it’s all because of your brilliance

just friends // lupe garcia

warning: very very brief smut, like extremely brief, so brief idk if it’s even smut, and a tiny bit of angst

pairing: lupe garcia x fem reader

a/n: hello again thank you for the request, it took me a while but i hope you enjoy :)

“remind me again why i agreed to this?”

you shifted anxiously from one foot to the other as you stood in front of the peach residence. nausea built in your stomach the longer you waited by the door, too nervous to open it. lupe did her best to maintain her distance, for today you were her friend and she needed the other peaches to believe it. 

“because you love me?” she smirked, her tone was playful, but you could sense a similar apprehension in her voice too. she’d been caught one too many times sneaking out of her room at ungodly hours of the night to meet you— but no one could know that. in order to deter any future troubles she promised the peaches that they’d be able to meet the voice that kept her running back to the bar at 2:00 am. 

“do any of them know— about us?” you asked in a hushed whisper.

“they don’t have a clue.”

discreetly she took your hands in the front palms of hers, offering you the slightest bit of comfort. she wanted to touch you, and reassure you that everything would be fine but it was simply too dangerous. tonight there would be eyes everywhere so she had to settle for smaller gestures. 

but the thought alone seemed to make you uneasy. you didn’t know these girls, and the unpredictability that came with tonight made it even worse. all you had to go on was lupe’s words which didn’t give you the best impression but you had to remember who you were doing it for.

“hey, look at me, they’re gonna love you. and i promise after it’s done we can go back to your place,” she cooed, trailing fingers along the back of your arm. voices from inside the house grew louder as they neared the door. you took a deep breath, jerking your arm back as the door swung open.

sergeant beverly greeted you first with a firm hand, she led you into the house introducing you to the rest of the peaches. 

“girls this is y/n, lupe’s—

“friend, she’s my friend.” lupe blurted, drawing amused looks from a few girls, which put you on edge. but nevertheless you pushed the doubt aside, allowing a bright smile to form on your lips. you needed to play the part of lupe’s doting “friend.”

greta spoke first, “how’d you guys meet?” her perfume practically radiated off of her as she approached, cheerfully outstretching her hand towards you. 

“at a bar a few months ago, after her show, she offered me a free drink and we’ve been attached ever since.” 

you nodded along with lupe’s words, careful not to show your irritation. it was hardly a story, more so a dumbed-down version of your first meeting jammed into a few words. 

however, the peaches including beverly seemed to eat it up except for one blonde hair girl whose eyes lingered on you. her hair was pulled back into a braid, and a cigarette was placed in between her lips. her gaze was unwavering and with each passing second, it felt like she was decoding your lie piece by piece. 

after a few minutes of conversing with the rest of the peaches, they filed into the kitchen for dinner, putting an end to the dozens of questions. but before lupe could join them you tugged on her arm, pulling her back towards you.

“what are you do—“

“who’s that blonde girl? the one with the braid?” you whispered, eyes darting around to ensure that you were alone. 

her brows furrowed in confusion, “jess, why what’s up?”

“i don’t think she likes me.”

there was a hint of sadness in your voice that she noted. despite your adamance you wanted to be liked by the team. and jess’s reluctance to accept— or even great you, bothered you much more than you wanted to admit. 

“don’t worry about her, alright? she’s a softie once you get to know her.” she pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, ambling into the kitchen as you followed along, unable to stop thinking about jess.

the dinner continued on and the peaches were fully on board with your friendship. it felt nice to be surrounded by women who were so fiercely protective of one another. however jess’s piercing blue eyes continuously found their way back to you, and you were unsure if it meant she was warming up to your presence or the complete opposite. nevertheless, the dinner ended peacefully and you and lu were finally able to sneak away. 

“you sure this is safe?” you mumbled in between heated kisses. lupe’s lips were soft, and they felt even better in the comfort of her own room. the entire place smelt like cinnamon which she adamantly denied was because of her, but it only got stronger as you neared the bed. 

“esti’s out with jess, they won’t be back for hours,” she whispered breathily, her hands traveling down to your waist. with a slight push you fell back against the bed, lupe along with you. she moved from your lips to your chest, kissing the soft skin with the utmost fervor. as they grew more intense desire stirred between your legs and you ached for her. 

in hindsight it wasn’t the best idea, you knew that and so did she but by no means did you stop. instead, you pulled your top off to give her better access, allowing lupe to further continue her pursuit, slipping a hand into your skirt. 

“lu…..” you moaned softly, running your fingers through her curls. she adored the way her name fell from your lips, almost like a chant, and it made her disregard the noises that were steadily nearing the door. the pad of her finger circled along your clit applying more pressure as you squirm underneath her. however, your cries didn’t go unnoticed. 

“could you guys be any louder?”

lupe shot up, instinctively covering your body from the voice. you rushed to put your shirt on, eyes darting away from the door where the person stood. 

lupe stammered, “shit— jess we—“

“can’t keep your hands off each other?”

there was a certain playfulness to her tone that puzzled the both of you. you expected a gasp, maybe even a scream but she didn’t look shocked in the slightest bit— her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned in the doorway, holding back a smirk.

“are you laughing?” you sputtered, clutching lupe’s hand as your entire face began to heat up— how was she so calm? catching two women half-naked in bed was quite the story, it was a wonder that the whole house was informed already. you whipped your face towards lu however she didn’t share your same confusion, if anything she looked embarrassed. 

“i don’t understand, did you tell her?”

“of course not.”

jess burst out into a fit of giggles, clutching onto her stomach as the both of you watched, perplexed. she sauntered towards you, taking a seat on esti’s bed as she pulled out a cigarette. 

“either of you got a lighter?” she asked, sticking one end into the side of her mouth. lupe reached into her pocket tossing her a blue one. yet this just seemed to confuse you even more, why was she prolonging this? it made your stomach turn with nausea but all you could do was sit there, stunned.

“that friend's story you gave us was bullshit.” she took a long drag of her smoke, allowing it to permeate the room as you squeezed lupe even harder. blood slowly drained from your face leaving you feeling colder than ever. your entire future laid in the hands of a woman you barely knew.

lupe retorted, “it wasn’t that bad—“ 

“no it was bad, but the rest of the girls bought it so don’t worry.”

she shot you a kind smile, quickly taking note of your apprehension. your knee began to bounce rapidly, drawing a loud creaking noise from the bed. lupe brought a hand to it, soothingly brushing her thumb against it to calm you. 

which worked temporarily but it simply couldn’t tame the hundreds of worrying thoughts plaguing your mind. every moment you’d spent together was now under one large microscope. from your first interaction at the bar to the dozens of secret meetings at your house, you couldn’t stop obsessing over every minuscule detail, regardless of how insignificant. 

“it wasn’t just the story, right?” you blurted.

“no, i already knew before but “friend thing” just kinda confirmed it.”

“how?” 

she took another drag of her cigarette leaning forward as she grinned at the both of you, not an ounce of malice present in her eyes. and you couldn’t help but find yourself beginning to trust her. 

“uh a couple of weeks ago, our game against the blue sox? i went back into the locker room to get something but found you guys instead,” she chuckled, drawing dazed looks from both you and lupe. lu’s face turned a dark shade and yours abashed. the lustful memory was still fresh in your mind, yet neither of you had noticed or even heard a third person anywhere near the room. 

lupe asked, “why didn’t you say anything?” 

“seemed like you two were having….. an intense moment, didn’t wanna be the one to ruin it.”

you breathed a sigh of relief, jess’s words lifted a tremendous weight that slowly began to crush you. not only did she know but she accepted you. and it was a feeling you weren’t entirely used to. you’d only ever felt true safety with a select few people because the side you treasured most, the one lupe got to see was shunned and villainized by society. but with jess, there wasn’t any shame or judgment. 

“jesus kid, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she teased. lupe turned her attention towards you, your eyes were glassy and distant. she ran a hand up your thigh, slowly pulling you back toward reality. 

“you’re not going to say anything?” 

she took one last deep inhale, slipping lupe’s lighter into her pocket before making her way back towards the door. her blue eyes briefly met yours and for a moment you knew exactly why.

“we’ve gotta look out for one another, your secret is safe with me, y/n,” she spoke softly, bidding you both goodbye as she left.

for a while, you both sat in peaceful silence. you were grateful for jess, and her words struck you deeper than you ever could’ve imagined. she was more than willing to protect your relationship, despite the damage that would come to the team if it was ever revealed. 

warmly, you turned towards lupe, brushing a strand of black hair from her face, “did you know that she was—“

“queer? yeah, we used to go to the clubs together, but i haven't since we started dating.”

the thought lingered on your mind, a place where you and lupe could simply exist, free from judgment and the dull paint of your small apartment. it sounded almost too good to be true. 

“we could go, you know?” she whispered, her lips perking up into a gentle smile.

“to the club?”

“mhm, you could even sing there if you’d like- we wouldn’t have to hide.” you fought the urge to look at her doe eyes, but within a matter of seconds, you found your way back to them. and the decision was already made. 

[kalliyen]

Can you write a JJ story where reader meets his parents or JJ meets readers parents?

FUTURE WITH YOU

Pairing: Justin Jay Takagi (JJ) x GN!Reader

Featuring: JJ (Trainee A)

Genre: Fluff !

Reader’s Pronouns: They/Them

Warning: a tiny tiny bit of angst if you squint really hard

A/N: ofc ! sorry this took so long i was bc with school, i hope you enjoy anon !

Disclaimer: ⚠️ ONLY A WORK OF FICTION!

This was it. This was the day that you were going to meet your boyfriend’s parents.

After having a wonderful vacation with your boyfriend in his homeland, Japan, he thought it was the right time for you to meet the people who raised him to be the amazing person he is.

And so here you were, currently loosing your mind over what you were going to wear to meet said parents. We’re you going to go with ‘cute and sweet’ or ‘serious and nonchalant’. You just couldn’t decide! There were too many choices!

When in doubt, call JJ. Which is exactly what you did.

Frantically explaining to him that you wanted to look presentable for his parents, he just laughed and said, “They haven’t meet you and they already love you! It doesn’t matter what you wear honey!”

Rolling your eyes, you finally make a decision. Yes, this outfit will do perfectly.

The walk to his house was both exciting and exhilarating. Preoccupied with your half nervousness half excitement, you didn’t even realize you were already at his residence, until he tugged at your shirt.

“We’re here honey! Come on in!” JJ exclaimed happily, he was so excited for you to meet his parents.

Which is exactly why you were hyperventilating right now. You didn’t want to show it, but you were sure you looked like you were going to shit your pants and vomit all over the place.

JJ sensed how tense you were, and you reassured you not to worry, everything was going to go smoothly, trust!

That made you feel a bit better, because you calmed down a bit. How could you not, while your boyfriend had the largest smile on his face?

Enough dilly dally, you finally enter his home, and he leads you to their kitchen, where he knew his parents were, and they surely were.

“Mom, Dad, this is my partner, Y/N!” he exclaimed, like a happy little puppy.

His parents turn around, startled by the noise, but quickly turn their face of confusion into one of pure and utter joy.

“Jay! they’re beautiful!” his mother exclaims, “Our son surely knows how to pick the best!” his father adds on, side-hugging his wife, with a big smile on both their faces.

You eat dinner with the Takagi’s, and you all clicked together like puzzle pieces. It felt really right to be talking to his family, and all the nervousness and fear from earlier had dissipated into a puddle of nothing.

After dinner, they insisted that you slept over at their house, in JJ’s old room, and of course you couldn’t decline. They had the same sweet irresistible smile their son had.

Lying in bed, holding hands, looking at the ceiling, comfortable silence filled the air.

“That went well, didn’t it?” JJ starts. “It did…it really did. Thank you JJ.” you finish, “Mhm.” is all JJ could respond, and after a few moments, you both feel to sleep, while hugging each other.

(His mother went into his room and took pictures, the young couple found out in the morning.)

You really saw a future with him and his family.