#and thank you everyone who's sent one in for your patience while i take an age to get to them all!!

[starflungwaddledee]

"Oh my Nova, you like stargazing, too?! It's so awesome to meet other Waddle Dees who like space!!! It's just so calming to sit out there and look up, right?! It makes you feel really small, but in a good way... oh! Anyways, what I meant to say is that if you ever want someone to show you all the BEST stargazing spots on Popstar, I'd be happy to show you around!!!! I bet you'd love it!!!!

- Starry Dee

(ps sorry for the long ask, i just saw your answer to fitaphim's ask and my brain went oooooooooh space/pos) :D

found: one cosy spot to sleep. a tree hollow even Coo would be proud of! it's pretty late, so let's try to get some shut eye.

<< prev || [masterpost] || next stage >> additional ask from @lunala8368

[elikajinnie]

hello!! may i request a drabble or a spin off from forbidden taste!heeseung with his reaction or thoughts after taking the antidote for amortentia? and also how he’s desperate to find y/n and why she’s avoiding him for days? 🤭 thank you!! i luv a desperate man 😩

a/n: you may :3 i LOVED seeing this in my inbox when i woke up! And we do all indeed love a desperate man ;)

Warnings: ehm, a desperate man basically?

The fic in question --> click here

--

Heeseung was angry—no, he was livid. The moment the effects of the Amortentia wore off, his mind cleared like a storm breaking apart, and the first thing he thought of was you. Where were you? Why weren’t you there? He had searched and searched, every corridor and corner he could think of, but you were nowhere to be found.

It didn’t help that Yoonhee had been trailing after him, clinging to his arm, tears streaming down her face as she apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far! It was stupid—I know it was stupid, Heeseung, I’m so sorry!”

But Heeseung knew better. He could see right through her feigned remorse. The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t sorry for what she did—she was sorry she got caught. His patience, already paper-thin, finally snapped. He shoved her off and hissed, “Stay away from me,” before marching straight to a professor and reporting her. He didn’t wait to see the consequences unfold; he couldn’t care less. There were far more important things to deal with.

Like finding you.

You, who had been conspicuously absent through it all. You, who he hadn’t seen since after the Amortentia’s haze vanished. A knot of worry had formed in his chest, twisting tighter with every second that passed without an answer. He stormed into the courtyard, seeking out your housemates with frantic determination.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice sharp enough to startle a group of first-years nearby. “Where is she?!”

One of your friends finally stepped forward, hesitant but honest. “She’s... she’s been in bed all day. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”

The words hit him like a Bludger to the chest. Guilt and heartbreak washed over him in waves, drowning out the last remnants of anger. You had been suffering alone, likely because of him—because of what had happened, because of everything Yoonhee had done.

He tried everything—everything—to get through to you. He sent letters, each one carefully written, pouring his heart onto the parchment. He sent messages through your housemates, through your friends, hoping they might convince you to talk to him. Every time he saw a friend of yours, he’d stop them, desperate for any sliver of news.

“How is she? Did she eat today?” he’d ask, his voice laced with worry. “Did she sleep? Is she feeling any better?”

It was always the small things—tiny gestures—to show he cared. That he was thinking about you. That he was sorry. He wanted you to know that it had all been the Amortentia, that none of it had been real. None of it had been his choice. And above all, he wanted you to know that he never, ever meant to hurt you.

But no matter how hard he tried, you remained locked away. Your absence stretched between you like an invisible wall, keeping him out. You weren’t just avoiding him—you were avoiding everyone. And it hurt.

It hurt because he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t talk to you. He couldn’t hold you in his arms and kiss away the pain, couldn’t wipe the tears from your cheeks or make all your worries disappear. He wanted to tell you, face-to-face, how much you meant to him, how much he hated himself for letting this happen. But he couldn’t do any of that—not while you stayed hidden away in your common room, unreachable.

So, he waited. He stayed close, always looking for a chance, a moment, a sign. But until then, he would keep trying, keep hoping, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear.

And he did keep trying. Every day, he checked the places you’d usually be—the library where you’d bury yourself in books, the quiet corner of the courtyard where you’d sit when you needed to think, even the kitchens, where you’d sometimes sneak a late-night snack.

But you weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere.

The less he saw of you, the less he heard of you, the more desperate he grew. His patience—what little he had left—was wearing thin. He couldn’t focus in class, couldn’t eat properly, couldn’t sleep without his thoughts drifting back to you. He wanted—no, needed—to see you. To hear your voice, to know that you were okay, that you didn’t hate him. The thought of you hating him gnawed at his heart like a cruel curse.

He tried to remind himself to give you time, to respect the space you clearly needed. But it was hard. Too hard. Every day that passed felt like another piece of you slipping further away, and he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

When another one of your housemates brushed him off with a mumbled “I don’t know,” Heeseung snapped. He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the frustration and worry boiled over. “How can you not know? You live with her! Hasn’t anyone even seen her?”

The girl flinched but reluctantly admitted, “She’s been in the dorm. She just... doesn’t come out.”

Those words were both a relief and a torment. You were there, within reach, but still so far away from him. The knowledge burned in his chest, twisting into something unbearable. You were so close—just a few walls separating you from him—but it might as well have been an ocean. And he was drowning in it.

Heeseung's desperation grew with every passing moment. He found himself pacing the corridors near your common room, running his hands through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. He couldn’t stand this helplessness, couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, hurting because of him. The guilt was suffocating, pressing down on him like the weight of the castle itself.

He tried to write another letter, his trembling hands scrawling messy, frantic words onto the parchment.

Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know you don’t want to see me, but please, just let me explain. Please let me make this right.

He crumpled it and started again, feeling like no words could possibly convey the storm in his chest. How could he put into words how much he hated himself for what happened? How could he tell you that the worst part of it all wasn’t Yoonhee’s betrayal or the humiliation of being under the potion’s effects—it was losing you?

He sent the letter anyway, knowing it was just one of many you’d likely left unopened.

The next day, he cornered one of your closest friends in the hallway. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please tell her I’m sorry. Tell her... tell her I’ll wait as long as it takes. I just need her to know.”

The friend hesitated, giving him a pitying look before nodding. But he didn’t trust that it would reach you. Heeseung was running out of patience, running out of hope. Every time he thought about the tears you must have shed, the pain you must have felt, it killed him a little more.

Late one night, he found himself back outside your common room again, leaning against the cold stone wall, staring blankly at the entrance. He didn’t even know what he was doing there. Maybe he hoped you’d come out? Maybe he thought you’d sense him there, that you’d realize he wasn’t going anywhere until you let him in.

His fists clenched at his sides, and before he could stop himself, he let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against the wall, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes... I’ll wait for you.”

His voice cracked on the last words, but he meant it. Even if it hurt. Even if it felt like he was being torn apart. You were worth it. You were everything.

Eventually, the Christmas Ball arrived, but Heeseung didn’t want to go. The last thing he wanted was to pretend to enjoy himself, but his friends had other plans. They nagged him, teased him, and pushed him to "just have some fun for once." After a mountain of peer pressure, he reluctantly gave in, throwing on his suit and styling his hair without much care.

He still didn’t expect much. The Ball wasn’t going to fix anything—it was just a night to endure. He let his friends drag him along, had a drink or two, and resigned himself to the chatter around him. None of it mattered.

Until he saw you.

Everything else disappeared the moment his eyes found you across the room. You stood at the edge of the Grand Hall, illuminated by the soft glow of the enchanted snowflakes falling from the ceiling. Your dress shimmered, and you looked breathtaking. Stunning. Like a vision he didn’t deserve to see.

And then he realized—you were staring back at him.

His heart stopped. You weren’t avoiding him this time. You weren’t looking away. Your gaze was locked on his, full of something he couldn’t quite place—uncertainty, maybe? He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were here, and you were looking at him.

Before he could even process what he was doing, his feet started moving. His drink was left abandoned on a nearby table as he strode across the hall, weaving through the crowd until he was right in front of you.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

He had waited for you.

But now, he was done waiting.

For weeks, Heeseung had been nothing but patient, forcing himself to hold back when every fiber of his being screamed to see you, to talk to you, to fix things. He’d stayed away when he knew you needed space. He sent letters, messages, and even flowers, trying to show you he cared without pushing too hard.

And still, he never got a response.

But Heeseung told himself he could endure it, because you were worth it. He could be patient, be understanding, because he loved you. He was good for you, wasn’t he? He cared for you in ways no one else could. No one else would wait this long, worry this much, or fight this hard.

And yet, when he saw you standing there, in your pretty dress, something inside him snapped. He had been so good. He had done everything right. He had given you all the space you asked for, all the time you needed. But seeing you now, after everything, reminded him just how much he’d missed you. How much he’d longed for you. How much it hurt to be apart.

He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again. Not when he knew how good the two of you were together.

He didn’t ask for permission when he reached for your hand, didn’t even hesitate—he simply took it, his fingers curling around yours like they belonged there. Because they did. He believed that with every beat of his heart.

As he pulled you toward the corridor, he felt his resolve solidify. He had been patient, more patient than he thought he was capable of, but patience had its limits. He had waited for you to come to him, but you hadn’t. And now that he had you in front of him, he wasn’t going to let you go.

And when you didn’t fight him as he led you into the quiet hallway, it gave him hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, you wanted this too.

a/n: i love writing his pov :) also im not sure when you put ur perm taglist... so im not adding it here xD already posted so much.

[rootedinrevisions]

What's Mine

SUMMARY: After months of secretly seeing each other, you and Tyler find yourselves caught between professional boundaries and personal desires. When a flirtatious rival pushes Tyler's jealousy to the surface, he claims you in a way that leaves no doubt about your relationship status-to you or anyone else.

A/N: sorry that these requests are taking so long! I appreciate everyone's patience as I try to juggle writing with Thank you to the person who sent the request for this one in. This one came from the prompt “I’m not the jealous type, but what’s mine is mine.” I've had this one mostly done for a while (like a week or so) but the scene at the end just wasn't coming together the way I wanted it to. But I think I'm finally happy with the final result. Hope you like it! xx

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. Cursing (I assume, I'm not positive though). Smut (P in V, Unprotected)

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The bar was alive with energy, the hum of conversation and laughter mixing with the low strains of a country tune from the jukebox. Boone, Dani, Dexter, and Lily were engrossed in a heated pool game, their competitive banter rising above the noise. You and Tyler had claimed a small table near the edge of the room, tucked away just enough to let you watch the chaos unfold.

Tyler sat back in his chair, nursing a Budweiser. His long fingers tapped idly against the glass bottle, his eyes scanning the room with the kind of quiet intensity he always carried. You were close enough to feel his presence, that steady, grounding calm he exuded without even trying. But far enough apart to not draw suspicion from the rest of the team.

Your drink was nearly gone, and you stood, brushing your hand lightly over his shoulder. “I’m getting another. You want one?”

He glanced up at you, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, darlin’.”

You nodded and made your way toward the bar. It was busy, and a line was forming as people crowded to get the bartender’s attention. You leaned against the counter, letting out a soft sigh as you waited.

“Hell of a storm today, huh?”

The voice came from your right, smooth and friendly. You turned to find a man standing beside you, his elbow resting on the bar. He was tall, with a confident grin and a storm-chaser logo stitched onto his jacket—a rival team.

“Yeah,” you replied, keeping your tone polite but neutral. “Definitely one to remember.”

“Bet you’ve got some good footage from it,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned in slightly. “You’re with Owens’ team, right?”

You nodded, not bothering to hide the pride in your voice. “That’s right.”

“Lucky guy,” he said, his gaze lingering just a little too long. “I mean, you guys have a solid team. And... well, looks like you’re not just good at chasing storms.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smile tight. “Appreciate the compliment.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement—Tyler. He was still at the table, but his body language had shifted. His posture was no longer relaxed; he sat forward slightly, his fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of his beer bottle. His sharp green eyes were locked on you, his expression unreadable but intense.

The man at the bar didn’t seem to notice. He continued, his voice low and smooth. “If you ever get tired of running with Owens, maybe you should give our team a shot. We’ve always got room for someone like you.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Thanks but I’ll pass. I’m pretty happy where I am.”

The man didn’t back off, his grin turning slightly smug. “Well, if you ever change your mind—or just feel like grabbing a drink sometime—”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you cut him off firmly, turning back to the bar as the bartender handed you your drink.

You glanced over your shoulder toward Tyler. He was still watching, his jaw tight, the muscle ticking in his cheek. His eyes flicked briefly to the man beside you before returning to yours. There was no mistaking the tension radiating from him.

You gave the man a polite nod before stepping away, leaving him at the bar as you made your way back to Tyler.

As you approached, Tyler’s gaze never left you. He set his beer down, his fingers drumming once against the table before he stood.

“Everything good?” he asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it—a quiet undertone that only you would catch.

“Fine,” you replied with a small smile, though you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, his expression neutral, but his eyes gave him away. “No reason.”

You took a sip of your drink, watching him over the rim of the glass. His attention briefly flicked past you, toward the bar where the man still lingered. Tyler’s jaw tightened again, and he looked back at you, his gaze steady.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to smile. “You sure? Because you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Tyler didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back as he leaned in. “Let’s dance,” he said, his voice low and firm.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Dance?”

“Yeah,” he said, already guiding you toward the dance floor. His hand stayed on your back, the contact warm and steady as he maneuvered you through the crowd.

The dance floor was dimly lit, strings of lights crisscrossing overhead and casting a warm glow over the couples swaying to the music. The song was slow and soft, a welcome contrast to the energy of the bar. Tyler stopped just at the edge of the dance floor, turning to face you.

“Here?” you asked, feigning nonchalance even as your heart gave a little leap at the intent in his eyes.

“Here,” he confirmed, sliding his hands to your waist.

He pulled you closer, the motion smooth and confident, and suddenly the crowded bar felt a lot smaller. You placed your hands on his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the soft, worn fabric of his flannel. The scent of him—faint cologne, beer, and the outdoors—wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment.

The two of you moved together, the rhythm of the song dictating the slow, deliberate steps. Tyler’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against the hem of your shirt where it met your skin. His other hand rested lightly on your back, keeping you pressed against him.

But there was something in the way he held you tonight—something different. His movements were just a little firmer, his grip a little more possessive. You felt it in the tension radiating from him, in the way his eyes stayed locked on yours.

“You’re tense,” you teased, tilting your head to study him.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice a little too even, his expression unreadable.

Your lips quirked into a small smile. “You sure? Because you’ve been glaring at the bar like it owes you money.”

That earned a soft huff of laughter from him, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, his gaze flicked past you, just for a moment. Curious, you glanced over your shoulder and spotted the storm chaser from earlier still lingering at the bar, his eyes darting toward you and Tyler on the dance floor. When you turned back to Tyler, his jaw was tight again, his green eyes darker than usual.

“Oh my God,” you said, the realization dawning. A grin spread across your face. “You’re jealous.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “No, I’m not.”

“You so are,” you teased, leaning in just a little closer. “You’ve been staring him down ever since I got back.”

Tyler’s hand on your waist slid a fraction higher, pulling you tighter against him. His voice dropped, low and rough. “I’m not the jealous type,” he said, his eyes locking on yours, “but what’s mine is mine. And I didn’t like how he was looking at what’s mine.”

Your breath caught at the intensity in his tone, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook so easily. “What’s yours?” you asked, your voice light but laced with challenge. "Not sure I know what you mean."

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand slid up your back, his other hand combing up and his thumb brushing along your jawline. The touch was intimate, deliberate. “You know exactly what I mean,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You smiled, though your heart was pounding. “Do I? Because last I checked, there’s no label on this... whatever this is. We’re just keeping things casual, remember?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of amusement breaking through his tension. “You’re pushing your luck.”

“Am I?” you countered, tilting your head as if to test him. “Because I’m thinking maybe I’ll let him buy me my next drink. He seemed nice. Even offered to let me ride with him if I want.”

Tyler’s grip on you tightened, his jaw clenching visibly. “You better watch that mouth of yours,” he warned, his voice low and steady, “before it gets you into trouble.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. Leaning in closer, you let your hand rest on his chest, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric of his flannel. The touch was casual enough to appear innocent, but the way his eyes darkened told you he didn’t take it that way.

“What kind of trouble?” you asked softly, your voice teasing but edged with genuine curiosity.

Tyler’s lips twitched into a small, almost dangerous smile. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “If you keep running that little mouth of yours,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “I’m gonna take you against the nearest surface I can find. And trust me, darlin’, I’ll make sure everyone—including him—knows exactly who you belong to. So unless you want us both taking a ride for indecent exposure tonight, I'd suggest you knock it off.”

A shiver ran down your spine, his words leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you could recover, the song shifted, transitioning into a faster tempo. Tyler pulled back, the satisfied glint in his eyes unmistakable as he saw the look on your face.

He grinned, spinning you out in a smooth twirl under his arm before pulling you back against him. His confidence was infuriatingly attractive, and you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself.

And then, without warning, he dipped you low, his hand steady at your back as he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was firm and unapologetic, a silent claim that left no room for doubt to anyone looking.

When he pulled back, his hand still cradling your back, you blinked up at him, your breath uneven. His gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “Are you done being a brat, or do I need to make things even more official?”

You laughed softly, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” you teased, still catching your breath. “I kind of like seeing you jealous.”

Tyler’s hand stayed firmly on your back as he guided you off the dance floor, weaving through the clusters of people. You were still reeling from the kiss—your lips tingling, your heart racing. His confidence had left you breathless, but there was also something grounding about his presence, his solid grip on you as though letting go wasn’t an option.

As you reached your table at the edge of the bar, Tyler pulled you into a quieter corner where the music softened to background noise. His hand lingered on your waist, his thumb brushing idly over your hip as if staking his claim.

“Subtle,” you teased, leaning against the wall. “You think that was enough for him to get the message?”

Tyler’s lips twitched into a small smirk, his green eyes glittering with amusement. “Don't care. I wasn’t doing it for him,” he said, his tone low and deliberate.

For a moment, you forgot the noise of the bar, the crowd, and even the guy who had been flirting with you earlier. All you could focus on was Tyler—his steady gaze, the way his hand still rested on your hip, and the unspoken promise in the way he stood so close to you.

“So, what was that all about then?” you asked, tilting your head, your voice softer now.

Tyler leaned in slightly, his free hand bracing against the wall beside your head. The proximity was intoxicating, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“I told you,” he murmured. “What’s mine is mine. I don’t care who knows it.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “But we're still not official, though,” you pointed out, your tone teasing.

Tyler exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t let up, do you?”

“Not when I want something,” you shot back, your eyes glinting with challenge.

Tyler pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his hand resting on the side of your face as he caressed your jaw. “You want official? Fine,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk, but his eyes held something more—something tender.

Tyler leaned in, his forehead brushing yours as he lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Call me whatever you want—boyfriend, lover, or just Tyler—but as long as you call me yours, that’s all I care about.” His thumb traced the line of your lips, and the weight of his words settled around you like a promise.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, fierce and tender all at once. He kissed you slowly, his mouth lingering over yours, as if sealing the words he’d just spoken with a kiss that spoke louder than anything else. His hand cradled your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

Tyler’s lips pulled away from yours, but his forehead stayed pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes, that mischievous spark returning to his gaze. He traced his thumb gently over your cheek, as though savoring the moment.

“So,” he said, a teasing smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, “was that official enough for you, or are you gonna make me actually say it?”

You tilted your head, matching his grin, letting your fingers lightly graze the back of his neck as you gave him a playful challenge. “I think I kind of want to hear you say it,” you teased, your voice soft but laced with amusement.

Tyler sighed dramatically, his eyes rolling with mock exasperation, but it was clear he was enjoying this little moment just as much as you were. He leaned back slightly, a chuckle escaping him as he gave you a mock-serious look.

“Darlin’,” he began, his voice dripping with affection and a touch of humor. “Will you please be my girlfriend?”

You burst into laughter, the sound light and carefree, as Tyler grinned at you, clearly pleased with himself. His hands found your waist again, pulling you closer as his lips quirked upward.

“See?” he teased, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. “I sounded ridiculous, didn't I?”

You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in. "I don't know...I kind of liked it,” you replied, a hint of sweetness in your voice. “Thank you. I know you probably think it was stupid, but it was nice to hear.”

Tyler leaned in, brushing his lips over your forehead in a soft, affectionate kiss. “Darlin', I'll do whatever makes you happy. If that means saying it, then I'm happy to do it,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you closer again.

Your chest tightened at the honesty in his tone, and for a moment, all the teasing and banter fell away. This was real—so much more real than you’d expected it to be when the two of you started this quiet, undefined thing.

The moment hung between you, charged and intimate, until the sound of laughter from your team broke the spell. You glanced over Tyler’s shoulder to see Dani and Boone watching you from the pool table, their expressions ranging from amused to downright smug.

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” you said, your lips quirking into a small smile.

Tyler turned to follow your gaze, his hand dropping back to your waist. “Good,” he said simply. Then, louder, so the rest of the team could hear, he added, “Yeah, we’re together. Anyone got a problem with that?”

The table erupted into laughter and a chorus of good-natured teasing, but no one seemed surprised. Dani shot you a knowing look, and Boone raised his beer in a mock toast.

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you turned back to Tyler. “You're as subtle as a freight train,” you teased.

He grinned, leaning down to brush a kiss against your temple. “You love it,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

And he was right—you did.

As the night eased into a comfortable rhythm, the initial teasing about you and Tyler began to fade—well, mostly. The team had always been a tight-knit group, and now that the two of you were officially “out,” it seemed like fair game for them to poke fun.

Dani was the first to pounce, sidling up to your table after winning yet another round of pool. She leaned her cue against the wall and smirked. “So, is this why you always rode shotgun with Tyler on every drive?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

Boone joined in, raising his beer. “Oh, I get it now. ‘I’ll navigate.’ ‘I’m the best with maps.’ Sure, that’s why,” he said, making exaggerated air quotes.

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help laughing. “I am good with maps,” you said defensively, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Dexter, usually the quiet one, chimed in with a rare grin. “Guess that explains all the ‘extra stops’ you two needed on those long drives. Thought it was weird how often you needed coffee breaks.”

You groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. “Oh my god, you guys are impossible.”

Tyler, on the other hand, was taking it all in stride. He leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, the very picture of smug confidence. “Jealousy’s a bad look on y’all,” he said, his lips twitching into a smirk.

Dani rolled her eyes. “Please. We’re not jealous. Just annoyed it took you this long to admit what we all already knew.”

Boone nodded in agreement. “Seriously, the way you two looked at each other—like a damn Nicholas Sparks movie. We were just waiting for the dramatic kiss in the rain.”

Tyler grinned, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

You shot him a look, though you couldn’t hide your own smile. “Interesting is one word for it,” you muttered, leaning into his side despite yourself.

As the team’s attention shifted back to their game, you stole a moment to glance up at Tyler. His green eyes met yours, and for a second, the noise of the bar faded away. He gave you a small, almost private smile, the kind that made your heart skip a beat.

When it was finally time to call it a night, the group began gathering their things. Dani slung her bag over her shoulder and paused by the door, looking back at the two of you with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, lovebirds,” she called out, her voice carrying over the music. “Try to keep it down tonight, okay? Some of us would like to actually get some sleep for once.”

Your cheeks went bright red as the rest of the team burst into laughter. “Dani!” you protested, your voice high with embarrassment as you hid your face in Tyler’s shoulder.

Tyler, however, was completely unfazed. In fact, he looked downright pleased with himself. He tightened his arm around you, giving the group a lazy grin. “No promises,” he said, his tone teasing but dripping with that cocky charm you both loved and hated.

The laughter grew louder as you groaned again, playfully smacking his chest. With his arm still wrapped around you, Tyler guided you out of the bar, his hand resting securely on your hip as you stepped into the cool night air. The laughter and teasing from your teammates still echoed in your ears, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“Think they’ll ever let us live this down?” you asked, glancing up at him.

Tyler chuckled, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Not a chance,” he said, pulling you closer. “But as long as I’ve got you, I don’t really care.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked toward his truck.

The drive back to the motel was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional murmur of a country station playing on the radio. Tyler had one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on your knee, his thumb idly brushing over the fabric of your jeans. Every so often, he’d glance over at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth like he couldn’t help himself.

But your mind was racing, and as much as you wanted to let yourself get lost in the warmth of his touch, you couldn’t shake the doubt creeping in. Was what happened back at the bar real, or was it just Tyler getting caught up in the moment?

When you pulled into the motel parking lot, the tension was still simmering beneath your skin. Tyler parked the truck, turned off the engine, and hopped out, coming around to open your door like he always did. You followed him up the stairs to your room, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, you turned to face him. “So…” you started, your voice careful, testing the waters.

Tyler paused, halfway through pulling his flannel shirt off. He tilted his head at you, a playful smirk teasing his lips. “So?” he repeated, his tone light.

You crossed your arms, shifting on your feet. “What happened back there… at the bar,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “Was that real? Or are you gonna wake up tomorrow and tell the team it was all some big joke? Just you messing around for some laughs?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you regretted saying anything. But then Tyler stepped closer, his flannel discarded on the back of a chair, leaving him in just his plain white t-shirt that clung to his frame in all the right ways.

“Darlin’,” he said softly, his voice steady, “do I look like I’m joking to you?”

You glanced up at him, searching his face for any hint of hesitation. But all you saw was certainty.

“I meant every word I said tonight,” Tyler continued, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you a step closer. “You’re mine. And I don’t care who knows it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his voice. “But… you said we needed to keep things low-key,” you reminded him, though your voice wavered.

“That was before,” he said simply, his thumb brushing along your side. “Before I realized how much I hated watchin’ someone else try to take what’s mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill down your spine, but it was the tenderness in his eyes that made you melt.

“Tyler…” you whispered, but whatever you were going to say next was lost as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

It started slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. But as you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, it deepened, his grip on your waist tightening as if he couldn’t get close enough.

Tyler walked you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your hips, the curve of your jaw—each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours.

“Does that feel like I’m jokin’?” he murmured, his voice rough and low.

You shook your head, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “No,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his.

He grinned, that familiar cocky charm flashing through for just a second. “Good,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again.

The kiss deepened as Tyler pressed you back onto the bed, his hands trailing down your sides with a possessiveness that sent shivers through you. His touch wasn’t rushed—no, Tyler Owens was deliberate, savoring every moment as though he had all the time in the world to prove his point.

When he pulled back, his lips were swollen, his hair slightly mussed from your fingers. The sight of him like this—raw, unguarded—made your heart race. He sat back on his knees, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt. He tugged it up and then peeled it up over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His hands roamed your bare skin, his touch warm and grounding, but his eyes were what made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice roughened by desire. His thumb traced along the edge of your bra, just barely brushing your skin. “All mine.”

His words sent heat coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into his touch. Tyler leaned down, his lips brushing the column of your throat.

“Every inch of you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, “belongs to me.”

He kissed his way down, his lips teasing, his hands skillfully finding the clasp of your bra and unhooking it with ease. As he slid the straps from your shoulders, his gaze was reverent, almost awed.

“My girl,” he said, his voice low. His hands moved to your waist again, hooking into the band of your jeans.

As the cool air hit your skin, you bit your lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatened to escape. Tyler noticed immediately, his sharp gaze flicking up to meet yours. His head tilted slightly, and his lips curled into a smirk that sent a wave of both heat and embarrassment through you.

“None of that,” he said, his voice firm but teasing. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, coaxing it free from your teeth. “They all know now, sweetheart. No need to hide.”

Your eyes widened, and you gave him a look that was part incredulous, part exasperated. “Tyler, we can’t …what if we get a noise complaint!”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich as his hands slid down to rest on your hips, his thumbs tracing slow, maddening circles.

“I don’t care about a noise complaint,” he said, leaning down until his lips were barely an inch from yours. “The team knows. Hell, everyone at the bar knows. But now…” His smirk widened, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Now it’s time every chaser in this motel knows who you belong to.”

“Tyler,” you started, but before you could get another word out, his mouth was on yours again, silencing your protest. His kiss was commanding, his hands sliding over your body in a way that left no room for doubt about his intentions. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes blazing with something primal.

“Now,” he said, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin. “Who do you belong to?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could, he shifted, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. His tongue flicked against your skin, and the combination of his touch and his words sent a bolt of pleasure straight through you.

“Tyler,” you moaned, his name spilling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, that infuriatingly smug smirk firmly in place. “That’s right, baby,” he said, his voice like a low growl. “Say it again.”

You glared at him, your face heating with both embarrassment and arousal, but the challenge in his eyes only spurred you on. “You,” you said breathlessly, your voice trembling with need. “I belong to you.”

His grin softened slightly, turning into something warmer, something that made your chest ache. He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, and when he pulled back, his hand slid to the small of your back, holding you close.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, and the possessiveness in his voice was tempered by an unmistakable tenderness.

As he kissed you again, deeper this time, your earlier doubts and insecurities melted away. Tyler wasn’t just claiming you—he was showing you, in every touch and every word, that he meant it.

Tyler’s hands moved over your body with a slow reverence, his touch igniting sparks wherever his fingertips lingered. The playful smirk that had been on his face earlier softened into something else—something deeper. His eyes locked on yours, his gaze steady and intense as if he wanted to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

He finished undressing you as he slid your panties agonizingly slow down your legs, letting them fall away as his hands brushed your hips. The air felt charged like you were both standing on the edge of something bigger than either of you could name.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky but carrying a weight of sincerity that made your chest tighten.

Your hand found its way to his face, fingers brushing the sharp line of his jaw. “Tyler…” you whispered, but you couldn’t find the words to finish. The look in his eyes—unwavering and full of something unspoken—was undoing you.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your temple, and then the tip of your nose. Each kiss felt like a promise, slow and deliberate. His hands framed your face as he kissed you fully again, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that took your breath away.

He shifted, guiding your body beneath his as he shed the last of his clothing, his movements unhurried but purposeful. The heat of his skin against yours was electric, but it was the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—that had your heart pounding.

Tyler paused for a moment, his weight braced above you, his forehead resting against yours. His hand brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. 

“I need you to know,” he said, his voice low but steady. “This isn’t just…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “This isn’t just about wanting to fuck you. It’s more than that.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the raw vulnerability in them wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. You reached up, your hand tangling in his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss, your lips conveying everything you couldn’t put into words.

When he finally started to push inside you, the moment felt like time had stopped. His movements were slow, measured, as if he were afraid of rushing it. This wasn’t like the other times you’d been with Tyler before. Every time before had felt like it was just physical. Practically ripping clothes off of each other and hot and heated kisses him getting inside of you as fast as he could.

But this time…this time his touches were just a little softer. His kisses were just a little deeper. And the way he was holding you, like he was cherishing you made you swoon.

As he moved with you, his hands roamed your body. He murmured your name like a prayer, each syllable dripping with affection. And when your hand gripped his shoulder, your nails digging slightly into his skin, he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips lingering as if he couldn’t bear to pull away.

You couldn’t stop the small sounds that escaped your lips, your body responding to his in ways that felt like second nature. But it wasn’t just physical—there was something so much deeper in the way he held you, the way his hand laced with yours, fingers intertwining as though he needed to feel connected to every part of you.

It wasn’t long before the tension building between you both crested, your body trembling in his arms as your climax washed over you. Tyler held you close, whispering soothing words in your ear. When he followed moments later, his face buried in the crook of your neck, the quiet groan that escaped his lips sent another shiver down your spine.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breathing the only sound in the room. Tyler finally shifted, rolling to his side but pulling you with him so that you stayed nestled against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as though letting go was not an option.

He pressed a kiss to your hair, his lips lingering there as he murmured, “I meant it, you know. You’re mine.”

You looked up at him, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “And you’re mine,” you said softly, the words feeling like a vow.

His lips curved into a soft smile, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your back. “Damn right, I am.”

As you lay there, tangled together in the quiet aftermath, the weight of the moment settled over you. This wasn’t just another night, another stolen moment of passion. This was the start of something new—something real.

And as Tyler held you close, his breathing evening out as sleep began to claim him, you couldn’t help but think that for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly as it should.

[technically-human]

I don't know the rules for art requests so I'm hoping if I do this wrong you'll just ignore this message. I really, really like your Dead Boy Detectives art and I've been following it since the first comic with the soul orbs. I also like your different AUs and crossovers.

Could you write/draw a comic where Doom Patrol Charles meets Reverse Verse Charles? I think that could be interesting because those are the two versions of Charles who admit they're in love with Edwin, but also those two are on opposite ends of the emotional stability scale. That's probably not a good word for it-- what I mean is that DP-Charles seems comfortable with himself while RV-Charles thinks he's an absolutely terrible person, and RV-Charles is kind of manipulative at times while DP-Charles seems to be aware of others' feelings and gives them space.

Also, I think RV-Edwin and DP-Edwin might enjoy sassing each other too much.

No rules, just a lot of patience! Reading your comments always makes me happy, so I made this little thing very quickly :) I'm sure there's a lot of fun interactions for them to have, but it might take me a while to come up with more stuff.

I don't think DP!Charles has advice for RV!Charles... after all, they're kind of in the same boat. But maybe he can teach him a thing or two about giving Edwin time and space? I would love the see everyone's thoughts, because this seems like it could be a fun dynamic.

Thank you for the request, and to everyone else who sent me one: I live in shame. I will get to them.

ko-fi

[lynnlovesthestars]

Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD

first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.

Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird

Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)

Zevlor:

Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.

Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.

He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.

Astarion:

Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.

Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.

Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.

You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.

Wyll:

Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.

As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.

Haarlep:

Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.

One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.

Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.

Gale:

Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.

You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.

He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.

In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.

Halsin:

Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.

Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.

He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.

Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.

[insomniac4000]

Hello! May I request a ff about chrizzMD where y/n participated in the 20v1 and everything kept going wrong for her but somehow she managed to win or something like that? Thank you very much x

I really enjoyed writing this. If anyone wants a sequel with their first date let me know

20vs1 ChrisMD

When Y/N saw the tweet that the one, the only ChrisMD was taking applications for a football themed 20v1 she immediately thought about entering. She had a following, it wasn't huge by any means, about 75k subscribers where she did book reviews and some travel to different destinations and attractions like odd museums, places off the beaten path. It was enough to make a living and that was enough for her, knowing not everyone achieves major success but she could do what she loved and paid the bills so she liked her life.

One of y/n's worst personality traits was her indecisiveness, she liked the thought of doing the video, it could be fun and of course she thought Chris was a very attractive man but on the other hand what if she made a fool out of herself? She went back and forth about this for days, it was her friends who eventually convinced her it would be a good opportunity. It was only when she had filled in the application and sent it off that she realised she was one day over the deadline.

“Fuck,” she said to herself when she read the line again and cursed her indecisiveness again. She pushed it all to the back of her mind however and once again just concentrated on her content, using a random number generator to chose the order of the five books she had just purchased to review.

To her surprise one day y/n received an email to the account she used for professional matters, when she looked at the address of the person who sent it her heartbeat quickened, she could feel it beating hard through her chest, it was from ChrisMD. She went to click on it quickly and in her haste clicked on the one wrong email at first, but she found the right link and read the words, trying to keep calm.

Dear y/n Thank you for your interest in the latest 20v1 video. We had more applications than we thought so firstly we would like to thank you for your patience while we went through them all. We didn’t expect the response we received and are sad we cannot have everyone in the video we would like to. However we would love to have you participate in the video, please respond to this email if you are free to film next week Thursday and we will give you further information and instructions. ChrisMD and his team.

The message was professional and a little cooperate but y/n had to real in her excitement, this was a video for content and Chris probably wasn’t truly looking for love in a video, then again who knows what would happen.

The day of the shoot y/n was incredibly nervous. She walked onto the pitch and met all of the other girls, Chris’s producer Jamie introduced himself to everyone and explained what was going to happen for the first round. The weather wasn’t great, it was grey and cloudy which wasn’t too unusual for London, everyone just hoped it wouldn’t start to rain.

“Oh my God there’s Chris!” A girl with an American accent enthusiastically shouted, y/n looked over and there was the small curly haired man, taking a seat next to Calfreezy and ArthurTV. Y/N had to admit that although she did find Chris attractive he was much, much more attractive in person than he was in photos, he seemed quite relaxed as he laughed at something Arthur had said. The girls were all lined up, y/n was firmly in the middle of the pack.

The first challenge was to go up and introduce yourself, you were to say a pick up line and then try and score a goal. Y/N watched on as she saw her fellow competitors go bye and soon enough it was her turn.

“Okay Chris next up this is y/n,” Jamie said off camera knowing this would be edited out of the video, the girl walked in front of the table and had a small nervous smile on her lips.

“Hello y/n how are you?” Chris asked smiling and nodding at the girl in front of him. She smiled and swept her hand through her high ponytail.

“I’m good how are you guys?” Her voice came out a little more high pitched than usual but at least it wasn’t shaky.

“Good thanks, so when you’re ready.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again wearing my Arsenal Jersey?” Y/N said, and Chris laughed a little bit, ArthurTV however wasn’t as impressed.

“Then why didn’t you just wear an Arsenal top?” The brunette asked, a confused yes slightly mischievous look on his face.

“Actually yeah!” Chris laughed along with his friend. Y/N looked down at her England top and panicked slightly, fumbling over her words.

“It’s the Euro’s I’m being patriotic,” she replied hurried.

“Fair enough, kick the ball when you’re ready.” Chris could tell the poor girl was really nervous, he had gone through all of the applications and knew a small bit about all of the girls there, he knew this wasn’t the usual type of content y/n was used to so understood her nerves, he wanted to make sure at least the girls all had a great time regardless. Y/N took a deep breath before running up to the ball, kicking it with her right foot she looked and put her hands on each of her cheeks when she saw it slam into the post on the right hand side.

“Unlucky! But you seem really sweet so I’m going to put you through to the next round,” Chris said, his hands clapped together in his usual way whenever he spoke in videos.

“Thanks!” Y/N replied and skipped a little when she went back to the waiting area to watch the rest of the girls.

The next segment was taking free kicks. Something y/n wasn’t looking forward to too much, she wasn’t much as footballer, she instead used to do dance and gymnastics when she was younger so the complete opposite end of the spectrum to football.

“Any tips?” Y/N as she placed the ball in the spot. “Just run up and follow through with your foot, like one swift movement,” Chris coached y/n nodded before muttering to herself. “I’m going to hit someone,” when the eventual video was released this utterance was clipped three times, which could only mean that her foresight was unfortunately correct. She had a good run up but looked in horror as the ball span and landed straight into Arthur’s face.

“OH MY GOD I AM SO SO SORRY!!!!” Y/N exclaimed through her hands which were over her mouth in shock. Both Chris and Freezy of course found this hilarious and Chris couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of his friend now rolling around on the floor.

“I am really am sorry,” the girl said over and over again as she walked over to the injured party.

“That was amazing, for nearly decapitating ArthurTV you’re through,” Chris stated clapping his hands in amusement.

“This is going to go on the shorts channel isn’t it?” Y/N replied blushing as she walked away, causing further laughs from Chris and Freezy. Round three was a talent round. Instead of doing something she did usually y/n decided to learn a new skill, she had spent hours and hours learning to juggle.

“Oh no she’s got more boys, quick everyone duck!” Arthur joked when y/n walked up.

“I’ll stand far away enough so no one should get hurt this time,” the girl explained. She started off well, juggling the three red balls with ease, that was until she dropped them, cursing as she did.

“At least I didn’t hit anyone this time,” she said sheepishly.

“You know what, I’m going to put you through to the final round,” Chris said with a smug smile on his face, y/n was as shocked as anyone and thanked Chris before calming herself. The last portion was a chat with Chris, Arthur and Cal. Y/N sat down saying hello again.

“So, you hit the bar, hit Arthur in the face, dropped your balls and you’re still here,” Cal started off the conversation.

“I know I can’t believe it!”

“He must really want to shag you,” Arthur added and the girl sat there open mouthed and Chris places his head in his head.

“Fuck sake,” the curly haired man uttered.

“I have had a shocker though, and I was late getting my application in. I must seem really scatty but I promise I’m organised,” y/n defended herself and Chris nodded.

“Give me some book recommendations,” Chris asked looking into y/n’s eyes. They were green with flakes of brown throughout, Chris loved how unique they looked.

“The ministry of time is a great escapism if that’s the kind of thing you’re looking for,”

“I am always looking to escape the intrusive thoughts,” Chris revealed and y/n couldn’t help but agree while feeling her heart a little.

“I get that too, but books are a great escape.” The talk they had wasn’t too humorous but it was deep and real and meaningful, as much as a five minute conversation could be. The final girls lines up, the three hosts looking over towards the two finalists. Chris had his hands clasped together as he faced the women.

“Well it’s been a fierce competition and you both did amazingly well but my winner and unfortunately a date with me is, y/n! congratulations!” Y/N smiled in shock and hugged her opponent. She ten made her way over to Chris and for the video they held hands and looked back towards the camera but both y/n and Chris felt a little thump when their hands intertwined. After the shoot y/n held back at Chris’s request, he had his phone in his hand and a sweet smile on his face.

“Thank you so much for coming. I know it was a video but if you did want to go on that date for real then I’ll be happy to,” Chris asked a little shaky. Y/N smiled and nodded.

“I’d love to.”

[chevyslate158]

Coriolanus Snow x Reader 18+ - I'll Be Watching You

A/N: Hey everyone! This little piece is a filler while I work on Chapter 2 of Threads of Freedom (15th Hunger Games AU, Archer Brown x Fem!Reader) – which will be uploaded by the end of the week, I promise! Sorry for the wait and thank you for your patience. This is my first proper dark fic, so as far as I’m aware, this should be 18+ due to mature themes. I hope you all enjoy this little detour, and I’m excited to share more with you soon! Keep an eye out for Chapter 2 – it’s coming soon!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Abuse (emotional, psychological, and possessive), Dark themes, Toxic relationships (I do not condone this), Non-consensual elements, Violence/Threat of violence, Manipulation, Mentions of sex, Coercion, Stalking and Jealousy let me know if I missed any!

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

The night was loud, bustling with voices echoing through the makeshift walls of the Hob, the heart of black-market life in District 12. You'd been busy, making your rounds with the goods your family had sent you to sell, weaving in and out of the rickety stands that filled the dim space. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of stale bread and roasted game. It was the same every night, though tonight, something felt... different.

You felt it before you saw him—a prickling awareness at the back of your neck like someone’s eyes were boring right into you. Glancing up, you saw him standing across the room, the faint glow of a single bare bulb casting shadows over his face. A young peacekeeper, uniform pristine, with piercing blue eyes that didn’t waver when they met yours. Coriolanus Snow.

You’d heard whispers about him—the Capitol boy with ice in his veins who’d recently arrived to serve in District 12. He was unlike the other peacekeepers who draped themselves lazily over chairs or leaned casually against walls. No, Snow stood stiffly, as if he’d never let himself blend into his surroundings, as if he were above it all.

But tonight, he was focused on you.

After that night, Snow began appearing everywhere you went. At first, it was subtle—a figure lingering just far enough away to be nearly invisible but always there, always watching. In the crowded marketplace, in the quiet moments when you paused on your way home. Every time you dared to glance back, his eyes were waiting. He’d give a slight nod, a slow acknowledgment, a silent claim that grew stronger with each day.

Soon, it became impossible to ignore. Snow wasn’t simply watching; he was weaving himself into every part of your life, binding himself to you with an unspoken possessiveness. He knew which paths you took and where you liked to sit by the river, and he’d often appear there, casually positioned as if by chance, though you knew better. When you questioned him, he’d smile, a strange blend of amusement and arrogance in his eyes, as if he enjoyed toying with your sense of control, as if he wanted you to know that your life was no longer entirely your own.

One evening, when you were out trading goods, Snow approached you without warning, slipping into step beside you.

“I don’t like you coming here alone,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with an edge. “Too many people who don’t have your best interests in mind.”

You tried to brush him off, saying you could handle yourself, but he scoffed, an unsettling smile spreading across his face.

“You don’t understand. You don’t have to be strong or careful. Not with me here.” His words were meant to reassure you, but they settled over you like a shadow, a cold reminder that his protection was not optional, that he would always be there whether you wanted him to be or not.

But he didn’t own you, nor did he control you. Taking a deep breath, you mustered your courage and offered him a polite smile, careful to keep your tone light.

“I appreciate the concern, Coriolanus,” you said, choosing your words delicately. “But I don’t need you looking out for me. I’m fine on my own.”

You could see the faint twitch of his jaw, and a slight narrowing of his eyes, but you ignored it, determined to stand your ground. Before he could reply, you turned on your heel, heading down the narrow path toward home without looking back.

The silence behind you was tense and heavy, but you walked briskly, half-expecting him to let it go. Yet something about the quiet felt wrong, and that prickle of unease crept up your spine once more. Suddenly, you heard him call your name—softly, but with an unmistakable edge.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying,” he said, his voice dangerously low. You could feel his footsteps behind you, and before you could quicken your pace, he was by your side again, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“Do you think this is a choice?” His voice was no longer smooth but sharp, each word edged with frustration.

“You don’t just get to walk away.” He reached out, his fingers grazing your arm, his grip tightening when you tried to pull away. “I’m here because you need me. I see the way people look at you, what they think they can take from you.” His gaze bore into yours, and you realised that his frustration ran deeper than anger—it was something primal, possessive, a hunger to control.

“Don’t make this difficult,” he murmured, the unsettling calm in his voice sending a chill through you.

Your pulse quickened as his grip tightened, firm enough to keep you there but not enough to hurt—yet. Snow’s expression shifted, the mask of calm giving way to something far darker. His eyes, usually so controlled, now blazed with a fierce possessiveness that was almost terrifying.

"You think you’re safe here?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a quiet fury looking down at you as though you were stupid. "This place would swallow you whole if I let it. You have no idea what people are capable of."

His words hung in the air, and you felt a tremor of fear. “Maybe so,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt.

“But that’s my choice, not yours.” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, hoping he’d see the resolve in your eyes, but instead, he laughed softly—a hollow, unsettling sound.

“Your choice?” He echoed, his lips curling into a faint, mocking smile. “No. You don’t understand, do you?” He leaned in close, his breath warm against your cheek, and when he spoke, his voice was both a promise and a warning.

"I know everything about you. I know where you live, the way home, the people you talk to. I know your fears. I don’t just watch, I protect. And whether you like it or not, you’re mine.” He glowered down at you.

You tried to pull away, but his hand tightened, holding you in place as his gaze bore into you with an intensity that made it clear he would never let you go.

“I won’t let anyone else have you,” he continued, his voice low and unwavering, as if stating a fact rather than a threat.

“So stop pretending you can push me away, or ignore me. You belong to me, and I won’t have it any other way.” His grip finally loosened, but the weight of his words lingered, searing into your mind as he released you, his face unreadable.

You backed away, heart racing, aware that this was only the beginning of something that would bind you to him in ways you couldn’t yet understand.

The intensity in his stare held you captive, as though he was daring you to challenge him, to defy the claim he’d just laid upon you. For a brief moment, you thought about running, about putting as much distance as you could between yourself and the figure before you. But something told you he would follow—no matter how far you went, he would always find you.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper, defiant yet trembling.

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dark and dangerous crossing his face. He took a step closer, closing the distance you’d tried to create.

“You can lie to yourself all you want,” he murmured, each word deliberate, his tone unsettlingly calm. “But you’ll come to understand, in time. I don’t give up on the things I want.” His fingers brushed your cheek, lingering for just a second too long. “And I want you.”

The weight of his declaration settled over you like a shroud, suffocating, and you could feel the force of his obsession surrounding you, pressing in on all sides. His presence was inescapable, a shadow that clung to you, a constant reminder that no matter where you went, his eyes would always be watching, his influence always closing in. The cold, unsettling truth sank in: Snow wasn’t merely infatuated. He saw you as something that belonged to him, something he would protect fiercely—and control completely.

As he finally released you, his gaze softened, a twisted tenderness flickering there. “One day, you’ll see I’m right. I’m the only one who can keep you safe, who can truly understand you.”

His voice dropped to a whisper, his words chillingly soft. “One day, you’ll realise that’s exactly what you need. That I'm exactly what you need.”

Time had passed, and somehow, you found yourself bound to him in ways you never anticipated. His words, his presence, his very being had become woven into your life like an invasive vine, tightening its hold each day. He didn’t give you a choice; his insistence became an inevitability. He declared that he was what you needed, and his grip on your life became as unyielding as the iron-fisted peacekeepers he commanded. Somewhere along the way, resisting felt as exhausting as it did hopeless.

When he was gentle, his touch was light, his words tender as he whispered promises in the quiet moments between you. “No one will ever understand you like I do,” he’d murmur, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your arm.

“They don’t know you the way I do,” He'd say to you breathing down your neck lips grazing your skin when he had you pinned against a cold desolate concrete wall across from the Hob in the dark when he saw you chatting with another man from inside the hob his jealousy overriding his train of thought leading you to where you were at that moment.

Those words made you feel both cherished and trapped, his affection tinged with a possessiveness that stifled you, smothered you. But he saw this as devotion, a twisted loyalty that would bind you to him, even as he twisted your will to fit his.

Yet his moods shifted like shadows, sudden and dark. One wrong word, one misstep, and his gentle touch could turn cold, his smile fading into an unyielding glare.

“Where were you?” he would ask, his voice deceptively calm but his eyes burning with a simmering anger.

“You think you can just slip away whenever you want?” He’d take your wrist, just tight enough to remind you who held control, his grip softening only when he saw the hesitation in your gaze.

He’d pull you close, his voice a possessive whisper. “I won’t let you leave. Don’t even think about it. No one will ever protect you like I will.”

And still, there were moments when he was vulnerable—when his mask slipped, and you could see the frightened boy behind the stern peacekeeper, an illusion to the young boy he once was in the Capitol.

“I’ve lost too much already,” he confessed one night, his voice breaking the quiet of the room, low and strained after the passion that had consumed you both.

A sheen of sweat glistened across your bodies, the air thick with the aftermath of your shared breathless silence. The dim lantern flickered in the corner of your small home, casting a warm glow that only served to make his sharp features more prominent, his icy blue eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them as if the light revealed something deeper—something more fragile. His hand rested protectively over yours intertwining your hand with his, his other arm draped across your frame, tugging you closer as if he could fuse you into him, as though he needed your presence to solidify his reality.

"Don't make me lose you too," he repeated, his voice muffled as he pressed his forehead against yours. You could feel the tremor in his breath, the weight of his words sinking into your skin. The raw vulnerability that had bled through him during those moments of intimacy now lingered in the air, like an unspoken plea that both terrified and touched you. His lips, still warm from the kiss that had left you breathless, moved softly against your forehead as he whispered, "I've already lost so much. I can't bear to lose you too."

You lay there, caught between the storm of desire and the weight of his obsession, feeling the intensity of his emotions wrapped around you like a vice. He wasn’t just holding you physically; he was anchoring himself to you, weaving a web of control and love that was both suffocating and intoxicating.

Every touch felt like a claim, every whispered word a promise you weren't sure you could escape. But in the stillness of that moment, when his heart seemed to beat in time with yours, you wondered if there was a part of him that truly did love you, or if it was simply the fear of losing control over something—someone—he had come to see as his.

His eyes met yours in the low light, searching you, reading you, as though trying to gauge whether you felt the same hunger for him, the same need. You could see it then—the darkness in him that was more than just obsession. It was desperation. Desperation for your love, for your loyalty, for a future where you would never leave him. He was willing to give you everything, but it was clear that everything meant something far different to him than it did to you.

In his mind, you weren’t just a part of his world—you were the only thing worth holding onto, the one thing he could never lose. And in that moment, as the weight of his words settled over you, you realized that you were no longer just a passive observer in this dangerous dance between love and control. You were as bound to him as he was to you, and though you longed for freedom, you couldn't help but wonder if his love for you—his need for you—was something you could ever truly escape.

[tkwrites]

Private Lessons - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)

Photo from Pinterest

Title: Private Lessons

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC) 

Warnings: None? If I should add any, please let me know. 

Summary: As requested by @eyesthatroll, Quinn teaches Sarah to skate.

Word Count: 3,300

Comments: After taking a bit of a breather, I’m back with a requested fic. 2 months after you requested it, your wish is my command, Mari. I hope you enjoy it!

This was an interesting exercise for me to write something requested by someone else that wasn’t necessarily my own idea. I wrestled with it and got in my head a lot about it, but ultimately, I like the result I finally came to. 

Thanks for your patience and support. Please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see in their universe! I can’t guarantee I’ll write it, but I love the inspiration and challenge these requests bring! 

eyesthatroll asked: tory!! i absolutely adore your writing 🥹 maybe if it’s in your wheelhouse, you could write quinn teaching sarah to skate (or them going skating together) for the first time. i think that would be very adorable 😭 it’s totally fine if that’s not in the cards for the series though, don’t feel pressured! love ya! 🫶🏽

Private Lessons

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

At the end of every season we have a family skate. It's on the 15th. I'd like to bring you if you can come. 

Sarah knew this was a bigger deal than his crafted to be casual text was letting on. If it really was casual, he would have mentioned it before he left for the three game road trip.

She also knew dating a hockey player meant she would have to face her fear and past failure eventually. Even if a team event wasn't involved, it was such a big part of Quinns life. She wouldn't be able to avoid it forever. 

Does everyone skate? 

Usually yeah. Not all of the partners do, but most. 

I've never skated before. 

Really? 

Desert flower, remember? she sent with a picture of a blooming cactus. 

He laughed. There are lots of different skill levels there. People bring their kids and stuff.

Meaning what? That I'll be the only adult with training wheels? 

No wheels ;) 

She sent a gif of someone rolling their eyes. I'd love to go with you, but I really don't want to be the only one who doesn't know what they're doing. Could I persuade you to give me some private lessons? 

I guess that depends on what you’re willing to give me. ;) 

I mean, there’s not much I wouldn’t give you. What do you want? 

A long pause passed in their conversation. When she finally read his response on her way home, her cheeks pinked so much, she had to put her phone in her bag for fear of giving herself away on the train. 

That’s how they ended up at a mostly empty training rink the Wednesday night after he got home. 

She found him waiting for her in the lobby, surrounded by a swarm of kids all jockeying for his attention. It looked like a whole little league team was getting out of practice or a game right as he arrived. They were so excited, acting as if he came in just to see them. 

Sarah waited off to the side, watching him sign autographs and give advice, and talk to each of them. She was tired and hungry, but seeing Quinn in this element gave her a new side of him to admire. He was patient and kind, and invested. She remembered him telling her how he always liked to talk to kids because he remembered how much it meant to him when his favorite players were willing to stop and talk. Seeing that quite literally come full circle was a gift she hadn’t expected to see.  

When he finally looked up and met her gaze, he flashed her a grin and mouthed, thank you. 

Smiling in return, she nodded to an empty room off to the side before settling in with her laptop to work on her publication. 

A big sigh announced his presence a while later, as Quinn slid down the wall to sit next to her on the floor. “Sorry about that,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“It’s fine. I always have stuff to work on, and seeing you with the kids is sweet.” 

“Winning me some brownie points?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Like you even need them.”

Sarah closed her laptop and turned her head so they could finally say hello properly. 

He pulled her close to deepen the kiss. Even though he'd gotten back in town after midnight the night before, they hadn’t seen each other until now. He'd debated going to the aquarium after practice, but remembered they wouldn't let him back without a pass the last time he’d tried. Besides, he didn’t want to interrupt her work so close to finals. 

The urge to climb into his lap was so strong, Sarah had to pull back from the kiss before she made a public spectacle of herself. 

“I missed you,” he said, trailing a finger from her cheekbone to her jaw. It felt like the road trip was finally over now that she was back in his arms.

“I missed you, too.” 

“I have to confess something,” Sarah blurted, nerves eating her from the inside out as he showed her how to tie her skates.

Quinn looked up from pulling her laces tight.

“I’ve been skating before.” 

One of his eyebrows cocked up, “you have, have you?” 

“It was terrible. It was on a first date with this guy when I was a freshman, and I’m pretty certain the only reason he suggested it was so he could get his hands on me.” 

Quinn wrapped his hand around her calf and joked, “I guess it’s a good thing I’ve already had my hands on you, then.” 

“You’re not mad?” she said, surprised.

“About what? That I’m not popping your ice skating cherry?” 

Laughter barked out of her mouth before she explained, “no, that I lied. I mean, I didn’t really lie. We went on ice, on skates, but no real skating was involved.”

“Now I feel like you’re lying,” his voice was teasing. 

“After half a wobbly, too touchy lap, I fell and broke my wrist.” 

The bemused smile dropped off his lips, “oh my god, Sarah, why didn’t you tell me before?” 

Her bottom jaw moved as she worried the inside of her lower lip. “I didn't know when it would come up.” she said. “I mean, if anyone can teach me to skate, you can. But that's why I wanted it to be just us first.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve broken lots of bones skating,” he said, stroking her leg. 

She smiled tightly. “I bet none of those were from you falling down.” 

“I don’t know, maybe? You’d have to ask my mom, but I fell plenty when I was learning, that’s really normal.” 

“It just feels like one of those things that I'll never live down, you know?”

“Well, you and I are the only ones that know now.” 

“Yeah and Josh Jackson and all those people at the Reno rec rink.” 

“You keep in touch with everyone who was there that night?” he joked, hoping she would see how ridiculous her worry was. 

A hand flew up to cover her face as she blushed. “I guess it just lives in my head every time I think about ice skating.” 

“I know the feeling, but it was one time seven years ago, right? And you’ve got a better teacher, now.” 

She dropped her hands so she could meet his gaze, giving him a hopeful smile. 

He changed the subject. “Are these too tight? Can you move your toes?”

“Yeah. I mean, no they're not too tight.”

He smiled, stood and held out a hand, “come on. I can't promise you won't fall, but I'll do my best.” 

As they walked through the tunnel to the rink, she said, “This is the weirdest feeling.”

“It can't be worse than wearing heels.”

“Have you ever worn heels?”

“Well, no,” he admitted. 

“Then you can't say a damn thing about it. At least in heels, the ball of your foot is on the ground. With this, it's like my feet are suddenly half an inch wide.”

“You're thinking too much.”

“What am I supposed to do, not think?”

“Don't think so much,” he said, stopping at the boards and turning around. “Okay, I'm going to get on and help you on, okay?”

She nodded. 

He bit back his smile at the determination on her face. “It's slippery, so be prepared.”

“Gee, thanks, Hughes,” she said, flatly. “I had no idea ice is slippery.”

He laughed. She’d never called him by his last name. Of course it would come out when she was nervous. 

“I'll have you the whole time. I won't let you go until you tell me to,” he promised, reaching to help her through. 

She stepped on and immediately over corrected, jerking back. 

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him to keep them upright. “Calm down,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “I know it's a weird feeling.” 

In all actuality, he didn't know. He'd been skating so long it sometimes felt easier than walking.

 “Just hold on and let me pull you.” 

Skating backwards, he took her on a lap. Her fingers were hooked around his elbows, so he was forced to awkwardly hold the backs of her arms.

“Can you relax? I’ve got you.” 

She glanced down and felt her legs wobble. Visions of the ice rushing up to kiss her on the temple made her dizzy. 

“Look at me,” he said in a voice that couldn’t be ignored. 

Sarah met his eyes. The dim lights over the rink made them a sort of muddy green she’d never seen before. 

“If you keep looking down, you’re going to fall,” he said. “You go toward what you look at.” 

“I just want to make sure my feet are right.”

“Do you have to watch your feet when you’re walking?” 

“Well, no, but this is new.” 

“Sure, but once you get over the fact that you’re on the ice and used to your skates, it’ll start to feel more natural.”

“Yeah, I’ll just get over that.” 

He shook his head, and moved on. “Okay, start picking your feet up like you’re walking.” 

“Like I’m walking?” she repeated. “That seems really counterintuitive.” 

“It’s not that different from walking, you're just gliding instead.”

She leveled him with a deadpan, sarcastic look.

She was about to ask him how she was supposed to walk when she couldn’t lift her heel or push off with the ball of her foot, when she realized arguing his syntax wasn't going to get her anywhere. This was a case where she had to swallow her pride and ask for what she needed. 

“Can you break it down, like the physics of it, for me?” she asked. “It helps me to see all the steps before I do something.”

As he talked her through the mechanics of skating forward, she held onto his arm. She had so many questions he’d never considered, like how he used his edges to push off. 

Skating was so automatic on his part, he didn’t even have to think about it. He’d never had to break down what he was doing like this. 

Seeing how his legs worked up close and in slower motion helped her envision doing the same things herself. 

“Okay, come back here.” 

He moved in front of her again. 

“You make that look so easy,” she said, a bit of a whine in her voice. 

“Sarah,” he said, swallowing the bite in his tone, “I've been doing this for twenty years. I do this for a living. I'd hope I make It look easy. I couldn't take over writing one of your papers, or come into the aquarium and start taking care of Walter.”

“Yeah,” she said, resigned. 

“I know it's frustrating that you can't pick this up right away, but no one can. You can’t read your way into skating well.”

That touched a nerve and she glared at him. 

He let go of one of her hands so he could hold his up in surrender. “All I mean is that you just have to physically get used to it. How long did it take you to perfect your golf swing?” 

“That’s different.” 

“How is that different?” 

“I started that as a kid.”

“So? You can learn things now. You learn new things all the time.” 

“Yeah. It just feels so daunting. I really don’t want to look like an idiot in front of all your teammates.”

“No one will care. They’re just excited to see you. We can come back every night I’m in town if you want. Or you can just not skate.” 

That caused distress to fly over her face. “No. I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” He glanced behind him out of habit, even though there was no one else on the ice. It was a clean sheet too, freshly zambonied after the pee-wee hockey game that ended right before they arrived. Perfect learning conditions. 

Sarah recentered herself by pulling a breath down her spine, “this is such a big part of your life. I want to be able to participate.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, a half smile lifting the right side of his mouth. 

“Yeah, and like you said, I have a better teacher now.” 

“Tell me about your day,” he said.  

“Okay,” she answered, dubious of his intentions. 

“It’ll help you to stop thinking about what your body’s doing. I think you’ll find it will sort itself out if you let it.” 

He could tell she didn’t really believe him, but went ahead anyway, telling him about the little boy at the aquarium that afternoon who had insisted he’d caught an octopus as big as Walter and thrown it back the last time he and his mom had gone fishing. 

“I mean, maybe he did,” she said, shrugging. “But his teacher gave me this look like, ‘don’t believe a single word he says’. I felt bad, She just looked so tired of him.” 

Quinn laughed and decided not to point out that she was skating perfectly naturally now that she was out of her head about it. “What happened in class?” 

“Well, even if I get a C on my comparative physiology final, I’ll still pass the class.” 

“That’s huge, Sarah,” he said. 

“Yeah, it's such a relief, but then, Paul dropped that he's adding a test on top of our publication. Thankfully it’s not a huge part of my grade, but still, more on the pile. He’s calling it a review, but that just means it’ll cover everything we’ve studied this term.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair for him to add that at the last second.” 

“Well, he can do what he wants, so,” she shrugged. “He said he thinks we need it. I think he's just being a controlling jackass.” 

“Can't you report him or something?”

“For what?”

“For changing the syllabus so late.”

“Well, he's the head of the program, so I can't complain to him, plus if I went to the dean, I'm pretty certain she'd tell me ‘this is graduate school, and you should grow up.’” 

Quinn winced. 

“Yeah. He's just a dick because he can be. He’s the lord over this little kingdom and he wants us all to know it.” 

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, we can be done talking about him.”

“You can keep complaining if you want.”

“No, it's okay. It just makes me more mad, which makes me not want to study, which only shoots me in the foot.” 

“Okay,” Quinn said, “I think you’re ready for me to be next to you.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been skating fine for the last five minutes.” 

She looked down as if to confirm, “I have?” 

“It’s not like you were standing still.” 

“But you’ve been pulling me.” 

“I was, but I’ve mostly just been holding your hand, keeping distance. You've been moving yourself forward.”

“Really?” Shaking her head, Sarah laughed a little to herself, “you really are a better teacher.”

He gave her a wink and spun to stand next to her. 

“Keep talking,” he encouraged. 

“About what?” 

She didn’t know what to look at now. There were empty stands, and scratched glass, and the whole smooth sheet of ice, lines etching a curving lacey pattern around the perimeter. 

“Whatever you want.”

“I don't -” glancing down, she remembered his advice and jerked up. The sudden movement caused her to promptly fall on her rear with a frustrated grunt.

Her hands fell to her sides in a gesture that said, why is this so hard for me? 

“You're doing great.”

“I just fell down.”

“So? I fall all the time. You just need to learn to get back up.”

He did fall, and she was always so impressed with his ability to just pop back up and continue playing as if nothing happened. 

He coached her back onto her feet, and they continued around the rink as he told her about the road trip he’d just come home from. Only five days away, but the comeback overtime loss and two wins made it a huge confidence builder. 

He admitted that though some of the strain was lessened for the next month with their guaranteed spot in the finals, he still felt so much pressure to perform. 

“There was this moment on Friday, though, where we were just gelling, you know, and it felt like ‘we deserve this now.’” 

“Of course you deserve it. You work your ass off for that team, Quinn.” 

Throwing her a thankful smile, he said, “I mean we all do it together.”

“And you’re a big reason everyone is buying in.” 

“Look at you, learning hockey talk.” 

“That is something I can read my way into.” she joked. “Plus your mom explained a bunch of the idioms to me.” 

He laughed. 

She fell twice more, but got up each time. The last time, she even managed to do it without his help. 

“You’re doing great,” he praised, moving in front of her again, “you’ll be a natural in no time.” 

Pulling herself to him with their clasped hands she winked, “it's because I have the best teacher.” 

She was close enough now that he would just have to lean in to kiss her. He did, because he could. They were apart so much, it only made sense to take advantage when they were together. 

Whenever people kissed on ice rinks in movies, Sarah was always struck with what a dumb idea it was. It seemed incredibly stupid to not pay attention to what you were doing on such a volatile surface. 

In reality, when Quinn kissed her, she melted. It felt so romantic. Cold, but cozy with his warm body pressed against hers, and the confidence in knowing he wouldn’t let her fall. The only sound was the pleasant scrape of their skates on the ice. 

Suddenly, everything she’d stopped herself from saying over the past few weeks came bubbling up into her mouth. 

Just the night before, she’d felt on the cusp of saying something other than “I miss you,” at the end of their goodnight phone call. She had bit it back, not wanting that first time to happen over the phone. She felt like the moment had to be perfect. 

Fuck that, she thought, now. She didn’t want to hold it in anymore. Plus, wasn’t this moment perfect enough? 

Pulling away, she waited for him to open his eyes.

After a moment or two, Quinn realized she wasn’t teasing, and met her gaze, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothings wrong.” 

Suddenly, it felt too formal. They weren’t in the Elizabethan era where one declared their feelings in some kind of a grand speech, but she couldn’t not say it. It felt too disingenuous to keep holding it in. 

“I just…” she brushed her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as she ran over a few possibilities in her mind rapid fire, dismissing them all for being too much. Honesty, it seemed, was proving to be the best policy. “I just really love you.”

Quinn could feel his eyes crinkling closed as his face melted into a goofy smile, one reserved only for family and people close to him.  

It felt like something broke open in his chest, finally set free. “I love you too.”

Sarah giggled and it came out a little watery. She never expected to cry when she told him, but her body always did like to cry over big emotions. 

Quinn wiped her tears away with his thumbs before tilting her face up to his. 

This kiss was softer, not as hurried. Desire giving way to something deeper – less fickle, and more settled. 

As they walked back to the locker room, Quinn realized, suddenly, that he'd left something unsaid. He tugged on her hand, and she turned. 

“I’m really proud of you,” he said. “I know you were really nervous.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you for being a very patient teacher.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[terry-perry]

This request will make sense if you've seen Friends so I hope you have (if not just delete).

So what if while they're broken up Alastor tries to win Y/N back by dedicating a love song to her during his radio show? But she calls during the song to explain the situation? I don't know how the scene will play into this imagine, maybe Charlie is hosting somehow?

Anyway thank you if you do it.

Taking Care Of Business

You were in the library packing up a few books to help tide you over while you stayed at Zestial's for the time being. You paused to give the room a once-over. What used to be where you felt the most at home was now the setting for the betrayal you went through not too long ago. Betrayed by the two people who meant the most to you and all you were to them was just a pawn to push them further with their goals.

Your mother gave you the space that you required to think about things, accepting that you needed to leave home until you were ready to talk to her. Alastor, on the other hand, was giving you anything but space. Case in point, another giant bouquet of your favorite flowers was sent to the manor. Another gift that went straight to the trash before you went back to packing.

You truly thought he was different from what everyone said about him. You believed time with Princess Charlie, her thoughts on redemption, and how kind and fiercely protective he was of the hotel residents kept him from doing such low, hurtful things, at least to someone whose intentions were pure like yours. You were naive in thinking a powerful and influential demon like Alastor could love you without wanting something out of the relationship. He was a commanding force with a captivating voice and everywhere he went he oozed power. You were just someone who lived under the shadow of your Overlord mother.

He loved your connection, not you.

"This next one goes out to Y/N Carmine,"

The mention of your name brought you back to reality. The music you were listening to on the library stereo as you packed was interrupted by a familiar chirpy voice.

"A special dedication from our very own Radio Demon!" Charlie continued to announce in her cheerful, empathetic voice as a piano softly began to play in the background. "Y/N, Alastor wants you to know he's deeply sorry for what he did, and he hopes you can find it in your heart to forgive him."

After her words, you were greeted by Alastor's singing voice. Through the speakers, he delivered a beautiful serenade in French. It was none other than his rendition of La Vie en Rose, a song that was special to the two of you. It played at that jazz club you visited on the seedier side of the Pentagram. It was the first song you danced to and the one he used during a special broadcast where he proclaimed his love to you for the first time. Granted, he was tearing a soul apart at the same time, so tortured screams played in the background, but it was still the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you.

You couldn't believe he was going this far to grab your attention.

Alastor continued to sing the ballad and play his piano. You must've been hearing him. You could get rid of any flowers and shiny trinkets he sent your way, but you had no choice but to listen to his broadcast, especially if all of Hell knew it was all meant for you.

Alastor peered over to Charlie sitting by the controls. The station received a call and upon answering he saw how her elated grin disappeared and was replaced by furrowed brows and a disappointed frown. No doubt it was yet another wayward sinner trying her patience. He was always entertained watching her squirm as she tried dealing with loathsome beings.

This was different, however, seeing as how after the call she signaled for him to stop his performance before she went to the microphone to announce something that put a strain on his smile:

"Uh, we just got a call from Y/N and she told us what happened. Alastor, maybe now's not the time to play your song and it's better to give Y/N some space."

[joezworld]

Christmas Story

Two days later - Saturday, December 8th

Mercifully, Bear had a scheduled inspection on Friday, and was spared a full day of peak services with an engine that very clearly played favorites. 

Unfortunately, he was not spared the ensuing tirade from Delta, who had been lashed to Truro all day, and had been about ready to feed his buffers to him by lunchtime. “See, this is why we don’t have any hero worship in the Midland region, Bear.” She said seriously. “Because when the Coronations acted like that, you could just bump some manners into them! And they’d thank you for it later! That engine though…” She trailed off menacingly. 

“He’ll come around, eventually.” Bear said, trying to achieve a state of calm. 

“I don’t think he will.”

“He will,” Bear gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. “Because if he doesn’t, something unfortunate is going to happen - whether it’s to him or us is the issue.”

-

Bright and early on Saturday morning, Bear collected his coaches and waited at the big station for his departure time. He noted with some interest that the bandstand, which was usually littered with instruments from the American band, was empty. 

“Ah, Bear!” Stephen Hatt, the Fat-Controller-to-be, exited the station cafe. “Have you noticed the peace and quiet yet?”

“I have sir.” He said quietly. “Where did the band go?”

Stephen gave a slight grin. “Even my father, with his nigh-infinite amount of patience, grew tired of them. They’re on their way back to… wherever it was they came from, courtesy of a grateful island.”

“Grateful for their music, or..?”

“Grateful, and let’s leave it at that.”

“Of course sir.”

There was a lull in the conversation at this point, and Bear was about to bring up his issues with Truro, when the Fat Controller himself came walking down the platform. “Well, I see someone commiserating the loss of our band!”

Stephen pulled a face. “No, that is not what we were doing.”

Charles turned to face Bear. “What about you then, Bear? Is there a hole in your heart from the loss of the music?”

“Sir, I don’t feel comfortable lying to you.”

Both men laughed at that, and then the Fat Controller continued. “Well, I suppose that not every experiment can be successful. That group was quite rubbish, and I sent them on their way.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet.” He wrung his hands. “The Island Council is very keen on this going well, so they’re finding us a new group to perform.”

“Oh, sir…”

“I know, I know.” He held his hands out placatingly. “I have… informed them that it must be a better group. Perhaps a more… traditional one.”

There was a lot of coughing from Stephen at that, but he said nothing. 

“But,” Charles glared at him. “In the meantime, I suppose it is kind of quiet here, so I’ve arranged to have Radio 2 played over the Tannoy until the new group arrives.”

“Do we know who it is yet?” Stephen asked, pointedly. 

“No, but if it makes you feel better, I insisted that they provide us bands that are well-known in their home countries.”

“That doesn’t, actually.”

This back-and-forth went on for some time, and when his departure time finally came around, Bear was actually in a good mood. 

-

It lasted all the way to Haultraugh station. 

Oliver was there with his morning commuter train, and he was fuming. “Show me proof that anything going on here is my fault! I want to know! If it was me, which it wasn’t, I’ll take the blame!” 

The stationmaster, guard, driver, fireman, and two porters were arguing with each other. It was quite incoherent, but seemed to center around a trolley of luggage with no owner. 

At first, Bear didn’t think that this affected him, but as his departure time neared, he realized with some annoyance that the luggage compartment on his train hadn’t been tended to yet, and several passengers were waiting for their bags!

“Excuse me!” He called over to the confusion of employees. “But there is another train here!”

That caused everyone to spring into action, and while his train was tended to, Oliver tried and failed to explain. 

“I don’t know what’s going on,” He began, “But strange things keep happening. I mean, someone says that this luggage was supposed to be stored here, but there’s no-”

“My trunks!” A voice squealed, and everyone turned to look at a young woman leaning out of Bear’s train. “I thought I’d lost those!” 

It was very quickly discovered that she’d lost her luggage some time ago, never realizing that it was in the Haultraugh lost property office. A very quick reunion was staged, before the trunks and their happy owner were bustled back into Bear’s train. 

Bear watched this happen around him, not entirely sure what to do or where to look, but as Oliver’s train vanished into the distance, he realized that he was well and truly late. 

“Soot and Oil.”

-

Arriving at Arlesburgh fifteen minutes behind time, Bear tried and failed to act like nothing was wrong - or at least that he was blameless for it, but he’d reckoned without the small railway. 

“Oi oi oi!” Mike hooted from the platform. “What’s this? A quarter hour late? Did you stop to hibernate?”

Bear growled at him, his mood souring dramatically. 

“Oi!” The little red pipsqueak yelped. “‘S only a joke!” 

“Oh, pay it no mind,” a regal voice called out. 

City of Truro rolled elegantly out of the shed in a cloud of steam, paint and brass polished to a mirror finish. “That sort doesn’t understand humor. It probably thinks you to be serious.”

Bear’s oil pressure shot up, and his motor began revving in a threatening way. Mike’s eyes widened, and he shut up immediately. 

“Truro,” Bear said, a metallic grinding sound underpinning his voice. “Are you ready for today?”

“I have been ready for almost twenty minutes.” Truro said as he flounced past. “And you would know that if you could do the bare minimum and keep to time.”

There was a sound of scraping metal and shattering glass, and one of the classification lamps located near Bear’s chin fell to the ground. He’d scowled so hard that it had snapped off. 

Bear looked down at it, quietly but visibly furious, and then looked straight ahead. He didn’t acknowledge Mike, he didn’t acknowledge the coaches, and he didn’t acknowledge his driver until it was time for him to reverse around the train and couple between Truro and the coaches. 

As he rolled away, Mike released a breath that he didn’t realize that he was holding, and looked across the yard. There, by the goods depot, was a line of trucks who had heard and seen everything. They looked as equally frightened as he felt, and they locked eyes with each other.

This is not going to end well.

---

And yet, for the entirety of that weekend, it seemingly did. 

Bear’s heightened temper aside, the special “Truro” services went without incident - every train was packed to the gills with commuters, Christmas travelers, and enthusiasts alike. They ran to time, mostly, and any incidents were one that could happen to any engine or train. (Not that it stopped Truro from blaming Bear anyways…)

In fact, the biggest issue was,

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

That every time the train pulled into the big station,

But the very next day you gave it away

The same song was playing on the radio.

This year, to save me from tears

No matter what Bear did,

I'll give it to someone special

It would keep. Playing.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

“I hate this song…” He murmured when they pulled into the station for the last time on Saturday night.

But the very next day you gave it away

It reminded Bear of how lonely he felt

I'll give it to someone special

The next morning, Truro was whistling the tune. 

Once bitten and twice shy

He thought about mentioning why, but figured that Truro would be needlessly cruel about it.

I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye

The only comfort during this period was, strangely, Gordon.

Tell me baby, do you recognize me?

“I say!” He’d bellow as soon as the song came on. “Turn off this racket!”

Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me

“Oh, do be an adult!” Truro scoffed. “This is a wonderful song!”

Happy Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it

“Perhaps for you bilgewater-drinking Westerners,” Gordon sniffed, looking at Truro out the side of his eye. “But proper engines do not enjoy… tunes such as this.”

With a note saying "I love you", I meant it

“Bilgewater! How dare you! I’m more proper of an engine than you could ever hope to be!”

Now I know what a fool I've been

“Puh!” Gordon sniffed. “I see now why you have Bear as your minder. He has to balance out your preposterousness!”

But if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again

“You dare lump me in with that?”

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

“Only by circumstance! Bear hates this song as much as I do, and I wouldn’t associate a proper engine like him with the likes of you unless there wasn’t a choice!”

This year, to save me from tears

Gordon steamed away before Truro could say anything, and did so with such bombastic clouds of steam that nobody could see Bear smiling buffer to buffer at Truro’s fury. 

I'll give it to someone special...

----

That had been the last train of Sunday, and Truro was still smarting over it when Bear left him at Arlesburgh that night. 

He was in such a state that his crew found it quite difficult to move him, let alone do anything complicated like center him on the turntable, and so when Duck and Oliver arrived back in the sheds a few hours later, they found him facing the back wall. 

“Turntable broken?” Oliver asked, nonplussed at the sight. 

Truro said nothing, and Oliver took his irritation to be from a different source. “Eh, it happens sometimes. I mean, it's easier for us ‘cause we’ve only got bunkers, but still, facing the wrong way the whole time isn’t exactly fun.”

Truro unclenched his jaw long enough to say “Thank you”, without showing off how furious he really was, and then Duck bustled in. 

“My goodness Truro. What on earth are you doing facing the wrong way?” He immediately began fretting. 

“Dunno.” Oliver said. “I think the table might be broken.”

“It can’t be, I just used it.”

“Search me then. Fancy a change of scenery, Truro?”

“... My driver has issues with his competencies.” Truro managed to grind out. 

Oliver’s eyebrows shot up. “He couldn’t center you on the table?! Well, paint me blue and call me an easterner!” 

Duck looked horrified. “Oliver! He must be so embarrassed!”

“Only if you make a huge fuss, so stop quacking on about it!”

“Quacking on - oh for heaven’s sake!” At Duck’s urging, his driver reversed him out of the shed, and he was coupled up to Truro in no time at all.

“What on earth are you doing?” The bigger engine asked, not sure if he should be confused or angry or both.

“I’ve turned round King classes before,” Duck soothed as he pulled Truro out of the shed. “I’ll have you the right way round in a jiffy!”

Oliver rolled his eyes and watched through the door as Duck shunted Truro around the yard. If he wasn’t so tired from the day’s nonsense, he’d be laughing at Truro’s halfhearted protests, but instead he sat back and watched while his crew tamped down his fire for the night. 

By the time everyone was (back) in the shed, Truro was dizzy, offended, and still quite cross about his earlier encounter with Gordon. However, he took pains not to show it, which turned out to be to his detriment…

“Oh don’t mind him,” Oliver chuckled. “He mothers engines he really likes.”

“I do not!”

“Do too.”

“When have I done that?”

“Well…”

This went on well into the night, and nobody got any rest until well after midnight, when Duck finally fell asleep. 

“At long last…” Truro muttered to himself, trying to fall asleep.

“Hey,” Oliver whispered. “Not to keep either of us up, but do you have a second?”

“Whatever for?” Truro opened one eye warily. 

“When you’ve been doing the shunting, have you… noticed anything strange happening? Or heard any unusual talk from the trucks?” 

Truro’s second eye opened. “Such as?”

“I don’t know, that’s the thing.” Oliver said, quite perplexed. “Odd things have been going on with me recently. Stopping at request stops with no one there, waiting for luggage that got lost. I get more trucks than I was supposed to take, or sometimes less. And I’ve been late three times just this weekend from silly nonsense! Nobody knows what’s going on - even the trucks are getting confused!”

Truro raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t heard anything, but I will admit that I haven’t been listening too closely. One usually does not associate themselves too closely with the trucks, but I will keep my ears open, as the saying goes.”

“Thanks,” Oliver murmured. “Hopefully we can get to the bottom of this.”

He then closed his eyes, and was asleep after a few minutes. 

“Yes,” Truro said quietly, to no one. “Hopefully we will.”

He stayed up most of the night, thinking…

[scarletttries]

Roman Roy (Succession) Fluff Alphabet

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Rating: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 4.9k

Author's Note: thank you so much to the lovely person in my inbox that requested the Fluff alphabet for Roman, you are an absolute genius 😍 this boy is crying out for 26 affectionate letters and here they are! Thank you to everyone else who has sent in Roman and Kendall requests during the new season, I am working through them ☺️♥️

a - affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

Affection is hard for Roman Roy. He needs it, he craves it, he looks at you with sad, longing eyes until he gets it. And then when you wrap him in your arms, and pull him into your lap, letting your lips rest against his forehead ever so softly...he withdraws. He makes a quip and he's halfway across the room, panicking about the possible display of weakness, and steeling himself never to do that again. Until an hour later his head is slowly lowering onto your shoulder again and the cycle continues.

It will take months in your relationship before he finally lets himself just be held, and starts to initiate it himself; bringing his hand gently to the side of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek while he leans in for a kiss, ignoring the warning bells going off in his head and just enjoying that he gets to do his with you. And how nice it is when you smile and kiss him right back.

b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)

Roman thinks you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen, not because of the way you look, although he loves every inch of you, but because of who you are. The patience you have when he doesn't know how to do something simple because he was never taught. The warmth in your smile when he makes a dumb joke that makes him desperate to think of another. The way you move around him is calm and gentle, and every touch is soft, and no matter what, he never feels scared around you. Not even for a second. In fact when he looks into your kind eyes and you offer him a soft, warm hand, he feels truly safe. And for that you are a true vision of beauty, like a real life angel come to save his wretched soul and lead him to salvation.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)

Once the initial back and forth of trying to accept your affections is over, Roman will be big on cuddling you. Only ever in private, but he will practically collapse into your arms at every possible chance, losing the use of his spine the second you both settle down on his huge designer sofa, laying over the top of you so he can hear your heart beat with his ear to your chest, a constant grounding reminder that you're real and you're here with him. Run your fingers through his slicked back hair and rub gentle circles on his back and you've got a personal heated blanket for life. In public Roman is much less obvious with his affections, having to settle for leaning his shoulder subtly against yours for reassuring contact, hand trembling with anticipation the whole time.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Not one for planning, dates with Roman would definitely be on the spontaneous side, and honestly probably a little weird to start with. He's never really 'dated' before, usually relying on Roy family events and galas to act as occasions to bring his 'plus ones' to. But with you he wants to do this for real, so he reluctantly asks Tom where he took Shiv on dates before 'their marriage imploded killing thousands.' He'll try the usual spots like museums, galleries, restaurants, constantly asking you what he's supposed to do next like he's missing something while you walk around together. Eventually you'll show him how it's done, setting up a blanket fort with movies and take-out in your humble apartment and teaching him that the only thing that matters about a date is that you get to spend some time comfortably together.

f - fiancée (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

Roman's the type of guy to overact to the smallest fight, make a cutting comment and then saying it's over, charging out the door before the other person can fathom a reply. He'd no doubt grow to regret his hasty decision after a while, but feel like going back would be showing weakness, resigned to moving on with his life. Luckily he knows you are far too important to risk losing, so even when he's desperate to slam the door and run away, he makes himself stay, knowing he never wants you to be someone he has regrets about.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

It would start with a comment from Connor after he's seen you with Roman at a few family functions, about how happy he seems with you, and how 'he didn't think his little bro would ever settle down, but to let him know when he needs the number of a good wedding planner.' Roman would panic at first, brushing him off with a sick joke about how he likes to 'live in more sin than Connor could imagine', and spiralling with the thought that everyone's expecting him to get married any day now, including you. He'd turn the thought over in his head while hiding in one of a hundred mansion bathrooms, feeling suffocated and left adrift at the same time. Like he has no choice but to ask soon because it's what's expected even if he doesn't want to, while also desperate to give you a ring that very second in case you think he never will and that'll make you leave him. After 15 minutes of hyperventilating on the toilet, Roman emerges from the bathroom to find you loitering down the hall. The second you give him that kind, reassuring smile and ask if everything's okay, he knows he's going to ask you, not because he should but because he wants more than anything for you to always look at him that way. It'll take him a while to build up to it, but he'll know pretty soon that it's only a matter of time.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

Roman is simply the softest boi. A lifetime of being his family's punching bag mean he never wants anyone else to feel that way, so every feather-light touch will be delivered with a shaking hand, whether he's carefully steering you through a crowded room so you can both get safely to a quiet moment together, or he's caressing your arm before leaning in for a surprisingly sweet kiss. Aside from the obligatory snarky comments, he's gentle with his words too, going out of his way to thank you for the slightest favour, the tell you how nice it feels when you praise him, when you touch him, to always let you know that he's thinking about you, even when his head is full of Roy family toxic waste. Be sweet to Roman, the first true act of kindness he's ever really received, and you will get a kind, soft, sweet boy in return, whose been waiting his entire life for the chance to freely show this softer side of him.

i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)

You can tell Roman grew up touch starved and alone because every time you hug him he stands there, rigid as a board for a spilt second and then melts into your arms like he's been waiting for that feeling his whole life. Like with his need to cuddle, he's all over you at the end of a long day, collapsing into your arms, or pulling you on top of him to feel like he's offering that loving comfort back to you. His hugs are always long and slow, bodies entwining as much as possible, limbs wrapping around you until you can't escape his grip if you try, the comforting teddy for a wounded inner child.

When Roman gets hurt, no matter how accidental it may be, it's truly heartbreaking. The second you start to fuss and check he's okay, and apologise if it was you who slightly knocked him, he shuts down, withdrawing in on himself and turning all his pain inwards. He'll tell you it's fine, it's all his fault, he was in the way, you were right to hit him, he was being annoying, he's the one who should be apologising. It'll take a long time to slowly teach him that he never deserves to get hurt, and that he can accept your help safely, you're not going to tease him or make it worse, that it's all going to be okay. One day Roman will come crawling to you for help when he's not feeling well and it will take everything in your power not to cheer and cry with pride as you wrap him in a blanket and steer him back to bed.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

When you're hurt or injured I'm afraid Roman's useless. He's upset, he's overwhelmed, and you have to calm him down and give him very simple instructions if you need his help, praising him for each favour and telling him he's doing a good job at looking after you when he takes 45 minutes to successfully make a cup of tea.

k - kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)

Jealous Roman isn't loud or angry or the kind to make a scene. No, the first time he feels the green-eyed monster weighing down on his shoulders at some Waystar Christmas party, you the centre of attention for the half the fellas in the office, he just feels hollow. Despondent even. Like he was stupid for ever thinking he'd be able to keep you interested, that you wouldn't get a hundred better offers and realise you deserve better than the runt of the pack. By the time you see him skulking off down a corridor out the corner of your eye, he's all but resigned to you leaving here without him, feeling like he's nothing until you chase him down the hall, shouting his name with a cheerful tone that stings his heart even worse. He'd throw out some snarky line about' how he didn't think you'd notice him slip out through the fuckboy posse holding you hostage.' You'd laugh, but see the hurt underneath it, taking his hand in yours and asking if he's ready to get out there, or if he wants to go back in the main room and get inappropriately handsy with each other where everyone can see. He'll always choose to slip away quietly, but he wouldn't mind if a few of the guys from the office notice you two leave together.

l - love language (what is their love language?)

It took a long time for Roman to really ever want to kiss someone, so it still takes him a little by surprise when he has the overwhelming urge to feel your lips against his. At first his movements are awkward, his arms straight by his side as he presses his mouth a little too firmly against yours. Over time, you help him relax into it, letting your fingers rest at the nape of his neck and slowly moving your lips against his, letting him savour the taste of you and gradually chase each movement at his own leisurely pace. Once he gets the hang of it expect to constantly find him pulling your hips against his and cupping your face to gently bring your lips together, his tongue dancing over yours until you have no choice but to break for air, his eyes soft and loving as you pull your head away, knowing it won't be long until he needs to feel you close again.

I think the big two for Roman would be Acts of Service and Physical Touch. I think he's not gonna care that much about gifts given he's never really wanted or needed anything he couldn't get immediately, and he's constantly being lied to and manipulated, so just saying nice things doesn't affect him as much as truly showing him. He loves your quality time together, but the right five minutes with you can completely turn his day around.

For Physical touch it's already been covered, but give his hand a squeeze, his hair a gentle touch, his cheek a kiss? You'll have this boy melted into a puddle immediately. He's been so used to touches being rough or causing pain, that your soft, loving embrace is one of the ways he knows you truly love him, and he truly loves you.

m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Brought him a bottle of water because you notice he doesn't drink much? Brought his favourite shirt from his apartment because you knew he'd be sleeping over and you wanted him to feel his best the next day? Something as small as putting toothpaste on his brush and handing it to him before doing the same with your own would have him staring at you like you rearranged the stars for him alone. He can't believe you would go out of your way to do something for him, when you have to take care of so much more in your day to day life, so every tiny favour and gesture would make him desperate to try and make you feel that same joy. Even if he would most likely go overboard ranging from buying you a robot vacuum because you don't like cleaning to buying your apartment so you never have to pay rent again.

n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)

Roman is absolutely not a morning person. When he sleeps over be prepared to wake up to a very grumpy face, groaning in protest about the blaring alarms coming from both your phones. He'll insist on pulling the plush layers of duvet quickly back over the both of you, blocking out the daylight and the rest of the world in favour of just the two of you staring into each others eyes as slowly his demeanour starts to thaw and he accepts that you both need to get up. He'll steal a quick kiss for motivation before racing into the kitchen, putting on the coffee machine he has now very proudly learnt to use so he can feel useful in the mornings while you pull some breakfast together.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Before you came into his life, most of his nights ended with him crawling into bed alone, slightly tipsy, mentally replaying all his perceived failures that day. Now his bedtime is preceded by 45 minutes of hassling you; lying on top of you on the couch so you can't get up for bed, hiding your pyjama top as you start to get changed and claiming he has no idea where it is, but you look great so he wouldn't worry. Once you finally get into bed prepare for an endless monologue of little thoughts and insights, the light flicking back on every time you try to turn it off until eventually he lulls himself to sleep, curling up right next to your back, no matter how much space is free on the kind sized mattress.

p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)

Roman's openness is very similar to that of a specific kind of mysterious local corner store/bodega: Never open when you think it should be, but sometimes you'll happen to be walking past at an ungodly hour and it will be open AND have the exact niche thing you need, following seemingly no pattern for its operating hours or inventory. In the same way, sometimes you will ask Roman a simple, first-date level, personal question and get nothing in response but a snarky line and cold shoulder. Then at 2am you'll find him at your door with a story from childhood that leaves you in tears and his favourite candy because he wanted you to know that about him after all. It's a bit of trial and error getting to know Roman, but as he slowly learns that his thoughts and secrets are safe with you, then he stops locking the gates to himself and starts giving you a key to let yourself in.

q - quality time (how do they like to spend with you?)

Being a Roy means you rarely have to wait for anything that you want, and growing up surrounded by short fuses. This makes Roman a little bit quick to throw out a cutting remark and start to get snippy when things aren't going his way. He hates that part of himself though, and wants to be more patient and understanding like you, so he's quick to apologise, sometimes going a little overboard with the apology to show just how much he means it (like when he got a telling off from Logan for sending a hundred bouquets of tulips to your desk, disrupting Waystar for the afternoon and throwing the Dutch economy into turmoil.)

r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Like how it was unnatural for Roman to start going on dates with you, given how little of his free time he's ever really been in control of, spending time together also starts off a little uncomfortable for him. Sure when you're at work at Waystar he's happy to just sit on the floor by your desk, chatting shit and ignoring the strange looks for passersby as they try to have normal work conversations with you. And if you go to a cafe or a bar after work and just spend your time talking about nothing and laughing at each others dumb one-liners then it's as easy company as Roman's ever known. It's when he tries to plan every second, desperate to make sure you don't get bored that you have to slow him down and take him by the hand and ask him what he actually feels like doing with your rare Sunday off, the response to which is pretty much always "Can we just do, like, fucking nothing?" Which you are more than happy to join him in, lounging across his living room while the TV blares in the background and you just enjoy being in each others comfortable company.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

The first birthday he celebrated with you, before you were really an item, and you made him actually feel like this birthday was actually something worth celebrating. I have a whole section on this in these headcanons.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Growing up Roman always wished there had been someone around to protect him from his father and his family and the expectations of the Roy family name and now you do that for him effortlessly with your support and patience and kindness. So when Roman gets the chance, he's so determined to play the role of protector, making sure no one can ever make you feel like they have him. Be prepared to be the one reason Roman will stand up to his family and not let them lead him along, stopping any sly comments before they start. And when the inevitable workplace rumours start about the two of you, he'll find whoever dared start them and give them a stirring speech about how it would take him less than three phone calls to completely ruin their life, meaning suddenly no one at work has any opinion on your personal life. In return Roman wouldn't ever want you to stand up for him in an obvious way, he doesn't want to be accused of not fighting his own battles. Instead just protect his heart afterwards, piece him back together when he's broken down, remind him you still think the world of him, and you'll easily be his hero.

u - upset (how do they act when you’re upset? how do they act when they’re upset?)

Poor Roman really feels the pressure when it comes to special occasions. He's got all the resources in the world, but frankly a supreme lack of practical skills. He'll try to follow a recipe from a Michelin starred chef, only to realise nothing looks like it does in the video and now something smells like burning, and you'll be home any minute and the surprise will be ruined. You'll find him crouched under the dining table in tears while the smoke alarm blares, devastated because 'he can't do anything right, and you're going to realise that and run.' A few well timed kisses and a reminder that you know he's extraordinary even if he's not much of a cook, and that you're not going anywhere and he'll be back on his feet again in no time. While he might struggle with the big events, on a day to day level he always puts in the effort, coming to find you at every event and work day, learning how to do simple things to make your life easier, and genuinely being a surprisingly good person to live with when he sleeps over, something that doesn't go unnoticed by either of you.

When Roman's upset it takes a long time to try and coax it out of him, his instincts to just stuff it down and make a joke bubbling up to the surface initially. But slowly he'll learn that a problem shared is a problem halved and he'll start offering up his troubling thoughts before they overwhelm him and lead to a full breakdown.

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

When you're upset, Roman is surprisingly empathetic. He likes that he gets to be the person to tell you it's going to be okay, and to listen to whatevers troubling you, rather than another source of vicious mockery when he's spent his whole life surrounded by that. He'll rage about how much bullshit things are when they're not going your way, wrapping his arms around you and grumbling adorable 'oh nos' into the top of your head until you can't help but crack a smile.

w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them)

Roman's never been hugely fussed by fashion or trying to look a certain way, he's had the same haircut since he was 19 and while he sometimes wishes he was as tall as his brothers, mostly he's more concerned with what's on the inside when it comes to his self-love, or self-loathing. That being said, if you were to call him handsome he'd spend the rest of the day with a cocky grin on his face and checking himself out proudly in every single reflective surface he walked past.

The first time you held Roman Roy's hand was a complete accident; he'd been walking backwards up a flight of stairs in front you, so he could continue the conversation he was enjoying so much with you that he didn't dare look away for a second, and almost tripped straight onto his butt. Luckily you managed to catch him by the hand at the last second, and as you pulled him back to his feet it was like his entire world stopped spinning for a second. The soft, warm feeling of your skin meeting his, the gentle squeeze of reassurance as you laughed at his lack of coordination, the couple of seconds too long he kept hold of you for, feeling like his blood was finally reaching his heart, hammering in chest for the first time he could remember. He was obsessed. He thought of nothing else for the next two days, staring down at his own palm to make sure the surge of electricity in his body hadn't left a mark when you'd touched him.

So he made a plan to feel that same way again, using the characteristic he was most confident about possessing; being annoying. He slunk over to your desk as usual, trying to hide the little smile he seemed incapable of wiping off his face whenever he saw you. You were focusing on your work, but gave him a little smile as he sunk on to the carpet next you, feeling his gaze fixed to your hand where it sat moving your mouse to and fro. He started the conversation as usual, complaining about the charity event he went to last night, describing every awful interaction he endured, whining about how much work he had to do today, despite being sat by your side. However every so often he'd slide his hand across your desk and nudge your mouse just as you were about to click. The first time you assumed it was an accident. Then every few seconds he did the same thing, pretending not to notice it was happening. Finally you noticed that every time he did it, he smiled a little at the contact with your hand, fondly remembering your stairwell embrace.

x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)

So, hoping to succeed in his bizarre little game, the next time his hand moved to nudge yours, you moved a second earlier, capturing his hand in yours and threading your fingers through his. His giddy little giggle at your action confirmed your assumption about his motivation, so you spend the rest of the afternoon awkwardly trying to use your mouse with the wrong hand, while Roman happily clung to your other one, sighing happily every time you ran your thumb softly over his, content to spend the rest of his days right there.

y -yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)

This is not easy for Roman since he's used to being in a room full of people hiding their true motivations and playing verbal chess to try and get a few moves ahead. If you're having an off day, Roman might pick up on those vibes, but honestly he'll just assume he's done something wrong, and start trying to make it up to you somehow. You'll have to be a bit direct with Roman, but he'll always do his best to do what he can to help once he knows what you're thinking.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

While Roman loves being on the receiving end of your kindness and love, it makes his skin crawl when he sees you genuinely getting along with Connor and Willa. You can't help but find Willa genuine and interesting, and while Connor might be delusional and certainly not fit for the presidency, he doesn't lie and manipulate like the other Roys and enjoys having someone who really wants to hear about his camping trips with Roman and the parts of his youth that he rarely gets to remember fondly. Roman feels like there's something hideously wrong with the picture when he finds the three of you sat at the back table of a gala, avoiding business talk and just being human beings, but that's only because he doesn't understand that you and Connor have something very important in common; loving Roman.

No son of Logan Roys was ever to be permitted sleeping with a stuffed animal, so despite a childhood of nightmares and fear, Roman never had a teddy growing up. As an adult he's rarely spent the night alongside someone he truly cares about and trusts, so the first time he sleeps over you wake up to find his little fists clinging to you, like you might somehow drift out to sea in the night. When he realises he immediately apologises and makes a joke about 'not wanting you to swipe his wallet while he slept', but night after night you two always wake up to him holding onto you for dear life, to the point that you'll hold his hand as soon as you get into bed and watch him drift off to sleep so much easier. Bonus tip: when he gets sent halfway across the world on business and can't bring you with him, get him one of those special teddy bears you can record a message in and, once he's made a hundred ultra-masculine jokes about how ridiculous and creepy it is, it will become his prized possession.

[suckerfordylansstuff]

New Journey (S.H.) Chapter 3 Season 4

Pairing: Steve Harrington x henderson!reader

Summary: Back to Hawkins for spring break. Y/n believed it would just be a quiet time to cherish with her loved ones, but one day in and another mess had already began.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drugs, angtsy

Notes: Okay, let's cut to the chase. The season is written and I'm going to be posting a new chapter everyday. Thanks for the patience. Please enjoy and stay safe out there! 💕

Gif not mine

Chapter 2 << Masterlist >> Chapter 4

You thought your ride there would be quiet, but of course, having Robin with you meant anything but that. You were sure Steve had talked to her about what happened between the two of you and even if you weren’t in the mood to talk about it, you were also sure Robin was dying to bring it up. You just waited to see how long it would take for her to spill it out.

So, after five minutes of silence, Robin’s voice filled the car “So, you and Steve huh? I bet you had fun last night.”

“I know you know, Robin.”

“Know what? I don’t know anything.” you sent her a sideways glance and it was all it took to break her “Fine, he told me this morning. What exactly happened?”

“You know what happened. I asked him to move in with me like I told you I would do and he freaked out for some reason.”

“Why?” you knew what Robin was doing. She was perfect at playing the psychiatrist to get all of your secrets, and you hated the fact that it always worked.

“That’s the question, why? Like, if you’re not ready, that’s fine, but don’t start acting like the mere idea of us living together is awful to you.”

“That’s how you felt?”

“Yeah… I know he didn’t mean it like that, but can’t he just communicate like a normal human being?” you voice got smaller with every confession you made.

“We’re talking about Steve here. Of course, he can’t.” she saw your face scrunching up in thought and immediately forgot about her joke “Hey. It just threw him off. I don’t know what scared him so much, but I do know that his love for you is much stronger. It’s honestly kind of annoying how obsessed he’s with you. For example, the candlelight thing he did last night? He had that idea over a month ago and he would not stop talking about every single detail he wanted to include. Also-” you sat in silence as you listened to Robin ramble on about Steve and his antics as she jumped from one point to another without trying to make sense of her narrative. It brought a small smile to your face, hearing your friend go on and on about anything and everything, a nice distraction from what’s happening around you.

It was only when you arrived at the address that she stopped talking and walked over to the rest of the group. You got out of the car and walked next to Dustin, who was handing out flashlights for all of you to see. How does he have so many of them?

You just shook your head and started looking around before walking with Dustin and Steve to the front door. You stand beside your brother as he begins ringing the doorbell once, then twice, and after getting no answer he starts pressing the button repeatedly in frustration.

“Hey, knock it off.” you hit his hand away from the bell.

“Okay. Well, that’s settled. I guess he’s not here.”

“He’s not going to come answer to anyone knocking on his door. I mean, he is a drug dealer.” you said

“Okay, so how to we get him to come out here without alerting him?”

“I don’t know.”

Right after you finished your sentence, Dustin started knocking on the door while yelling Eddie’s name “Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear. We just wanna help.” he knocks again “Eddie!”

“Say it louder, try telling everyone we’re here.” you told your brother sarcastically, but you accomplished nothing as he continued to do as he pleased, yelling out Eddie’s name before switching it to Rick’s.

“Don’t scream that.” Steve told him, but Dustin once again ignored everyone, his stubbornness getting the best of him.

“Rick!”

“Dustin!” you whisper-yelled his name.

“He’s not there.” Steve

“Reefer Rick!” he yelled one more time before giving up “He could just be really high…” he tried to reason with you and you just groaned, fearing your lead was getting you nowhere.

“Is that a foot?” Steve suddenly asked, pointing at something with his light.

“What?” you pushed through Dustin to take a look yourself.

“No, that’s a shoe.” Dustin said after inspecting it and before this bizarre conversation could continue, Max’s voice interrupted you.

“Hey, guys!”

You quickly walked over to her to see what had caught her attention. Before you stood a lake house, that was previously covered by the trees. The perfect place to hide, you all thought. So, you started inspecting it, Robin being the first one to poke her head inside, calling out to see if someone was here.

“Is anyone home?” she said after walking inside, you going in after her, the rest following.

The door creaked until everyone was inside as you began looking around for any clues this place could offer you.

“What a dump.” Steve said out loud as he walked in before you heard him click off his flashlight. You turned to see him on the opposite side of the boat with an oar in his hands while he began tapping the boat in front of you. It made you stop in your spot, and just watch him with furrowed brows.

“What are you doing? What are you doing?” Dustin repeated his question when Steve didn’t respond.

“He might be in here.” he responds, never stopping nudging the boat.

“So, take the tarp off.” Dustin said as if it was obvious.

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.” Steve whined and carried on with his poking. You just shook your head at their behavior. At least Dustin was being cold with Steve too, not just you.

“Hey, look over here.” Max called out for you, pointing at the table in front of her. Both you and Robin stood beside her as you inspected the opened candy wraps and the empty beer bottles “Someone was here.”

“Do you think they heard us?” you questioned.

“Probably. Got spooked and ran.” Robin answered you.

“Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin joked.

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight-” Steve hadn’t stop poking the oar and you ended up getting tired at both the boys’ uselessness.

“Oh my God, just take it off.” you swung off the tarp when chaos corrupted.

You yelled loudly in shock when you saw a body stand up from the boat. In surprise you pulled backward, your arms reaching out for Max and Robin to not get closer, but they weren’t the ones you had to worry about. You watched the stranger grab Steve’s body, push him into the wall with force, and place a broken beer bottle near your boyfriend’s neck. Your legs moved quickly alongside the girls, pulling you over to Dustin who kept a distance between the rest of you and Steve. Being closer to the spectacle you were able to recognize the stranger as none other than the person you were looking for, Eddie Munson.

“Eddie! It’s me. It’s Dustin. This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?” Dustin called out for Eddie, desperately trying to calm him down before Steve quickly agreed with his younger friend. You just held your breath, your eyes never leaving Steve’s face and the bottle next to his neck.

“Steve, why don’t you drop the oar?” your brother said with a careful tone and you all watched Steve let go off the oar. But the sound it made when it hit the ground, seemed to startle Eddie and he pressed the sharp edge even further into Steve’s neck. You whimpered at the sight, your body moving forward without thinking, but Dustin stopped you “He’s cool. He’s cool.”

“I’m cool, man. I’m cool.” Steve repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie finally spoke, his voice filled with fear.

“We’re looking for you.” Dustin told him.

“We’re here to help.” Robin explained.

“Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band.” your brother pointed at Robin behind him, who nervously imitated playing her instrument “This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D.” Max waved at the punk “And my sister. Y/n. You know her, I’ve told you about her.” you let out a soft hi “Eddie. We’re on your side. I swear on my mother. Our mother. Right, guys?” you nodded at Dustin’s words, the rest of the guys agreeing.

Eddie just looked at your faces for just a moment before letting go of Steve, who grunted over his relief, far away from the broken glass. At the sight you immediately moved over at Steve, not caring about Eddie, and grabbed your boyfriend’s face.

“You okay?” you moved his head to the back to see if there was any damage on his neck and let out a breath when you saw that no blood was spilled.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” at that moment you had forgotten all about your fight and made a promise to yourself to only talk about your future once you ensured that there would be one to talk about after you figured out what the heck was happening this time.

“Eddie. We just want to talk.” Dustin had moved over at Eddie, attempting to disarm him, but Eddie flinched away “Okay.”

Eddie looked terrified, crouched down on the floor. He couldn’t look away from the ground, his hand trembling as he held on to the bottle. You weren’t sure if you were afraid of him or for him.

Robin carefully leaned down, meeting his eye level “We want to know what happened.”

Eddie shook his head, answering after his sniffles surrounded you “You won’t believe me.”

“Try us.” Max told him.

You stood before him as he started explaining what he saw. The kids were sitting in front of him, while you, Steve, and Robin were standing in the back. You hadn’t left Steve’s side as your hand grasped his arm to make sure he wouldn’t leave, that he wouldn’t get in more danger.

Eddie’s words were shocking. He explained why Chrissy had come with him to his trailer and how at some point she just lost all control over her body. He described her lifting up into the air, her bones snapping one by one. Even after all the terrible things you’ve seen, you couldn’t imagine something so horrible happening to someone.

By the time Eddie’s story ended, he was even more shaken up. He looked around at your faces and scoffed “You all think I’m crazy, right?”

“No. We don’t think you’re crazy.” your brother told him.

“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds.”

“We’re not bullshitting you.” Max’s voice was serious.

“We believe you.” Robin tried to reassure him as well.

“Look, what I’m about to tell you might be a little… difficult to take.” Dustin said.

“Okay…”

“Do you know how people say Hawkins is… cursed? They’re not… way off. There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours.”

“Like ghosts and shit?” he asked, trying to understand was his little friend meant before Max answered.

“There are some things worse than ghosts.”

“These monsters from this other world… we thought they were gone. But they’ve come back before. That’s why we needed to find you.” Dustin explained to Eddie.

“If they’re back again, we need to know.” Max said and you decided to step in to see if Eddie’s incident could lead you anywhere. You already knew about the flickering lights, but any further information would be useful.

“Eddie, that night, did you see anything?”

“Dark particles, maybe?” Eddie shook his head at Max’s words.

“It would almost look like dust, swirling dust.” Dustin tried to build a picture in Eddie’s brain about what exactly you were looking for.

“No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh… or touch. You know, I tried to wake her, man. She couldn’t move. It was like she- she was in a trance or something.” he answered you.

“Or under a spell.” Dustin said in a different tone than before, one telling you that he was onto something.

“A curse.” Eddie immediately picked up on what Dustin was saying.

“Vecna’s curse.” you closed your eyes when you realized what they were talking about. Great association by Dustin once again, you thought.

“Who’s Vecna?” Steve asked from beside you.

“An undead creature of great power.” Dustin and Eddie began explaining.

“A spell caster.”

“A dark wizard.”

Even after their descriptions Steve was still confused over Vecna, so you spoke up “A D&D character.”

Which made Dustin scoff and turn to look at you “Don’t ruin it.”

“Hey, we’re back.” Steve said as he entered the kitchen, finding you on top of the counter while you drank a glass of water.

“They got everything?”

“Yeah, change of clothes, everything they needed. Grabbed some stuff for you too, they’re in Dustin’s bag. Also told your mom and Max’s that we’re just having like a movie night/sleepover, so they wouldn’t worry.”

“Yeah, good job.”

After leaving Eddie back at the lake house, you told them that it would be best if the rest of you stayed together, to form a plan, gather information, and, also, keep everyone safe. So, you ended up in the one place with enough room and with no one else to ask questions. Steve’s house.

He had just returned from driving everyone around Hawkins to go get some stuff to spend the night at his.

You watched him take his jacket off before sighing loudly “What a day, huh?”

“You could say that again.”

Steve didn’t need to look at you for a second longer to see that you were upset. Being thrown back into the nightmare of a situation was hard for all of you, but he knew you were the most anxious one of them all. Your nightmares make it impossible for you to sleep some nights and you end up calling him to calm down. Always trying to help everyone else and not you, always trying to figure out any possible outcome, and not taking a moment for yourself.

So, when your eyes shot up to look into his and he saw how they glistened, he realized you had been crying and it broke his heart.

“Hey, we’re okay, we’re fine, right? All of us are here and okay.” he placed himself between your legs as his arms hugged your waist, pulling your body into his. Your own hands easily settled themselves around his neck while your head relaxed on his shoulder. You took a deep breath, his presence bringing you at ease.

“It can’t be the same thing again, can it?” you certainly felt like you were in denial. You knew it had to do with the Upside Down, you just hoped it would be an easier fight than the last time.

“I hope not.” his palm stroked your back in soothing circles, helping you relax.

“I just…” you pulled your head away from his shoulder to look at his face “I thought after Hopper and Billy, after their sacrifice, I thought it was finally over, and now…”

“I know.” he nodded his head, but he unfortunately didn’t know what to say to make you feel better. He knew it sucked, it was terrible and very dangerous for all of you, and he couldn’t sugarcoat that. He couldn’t hide you all away till it ended, and you all knew that the only way to get over this was with your help. No one else knew what you did and no one else could save this town than you, once again.

So, Steve just settled by placing a soft kiss on your temple before jumping on to the next topic he couldn’t stop thinking about while he drove the rest of them back “Y/n, listen, about this morning, I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t want to talk about that. I don’t care right now. I care about us- all of us.” you hugged him tighter, your face squeezed into his neck and your words getting muffled “Let’s just focus on this now, okay? We’re okay.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

If you want to be tagged just ask!

Taglist:   @bookscoffeandotherstuff @i-am-the-coffee-queen @bi-andready-tocry​ @enchantedcruelsummer​ @daddystevee​ @elite4cekalyma @hayadora​ @hannarudick​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @lookalivesunshine-x​ @sarasmismyonlydefence​ @astream-ofconsciousness​ @the-haikyuu-hoe ​​ @mileven-reddie @mochminnie​​ @synonymforlame @teamkiall ​​ @samanthadegaro​​ @the-passionate-freak​​ @thesailbells​​ @i-mmunity​​ @marvelouspottering @mrs-diggory @mydarlingharry @beepbeephargrove @mikariell95 @sweetdreamsshifter @paninipress @anolddayslover @10minutesofscreentime @bookfrog242 @onecrazydirectioner @harrycanyonmoonn @grippleback-galaxy @doctorsgirl262 @mayonesavegana @inkpot-winters @le-who-zer-her  @mysticgardenpolice @untitledarea

[annaphoenix1994]

Ghost the Brat Tamer

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

The dining room in the lodge was full - having to bring in extra chairs in order to seat everyone in both Kiera's family and Simon's. 

Although the family was together, Simon couldn't help but briefly feel overwhelmed with the swarm of familiar faces as they all sat at the table to mingle before the women would bring in the food. Simon couldn't quite agree with waiting at the table along with the other men for the food, but Kiera assured him that it was something both she and her mother enjoyed as well as teasing him that "nothing went wrong when the women of the house served the food". 

Kiera took notice of Simon's anxiety and gently cupped his knee with her palm under the table, feeling the halt of his tapping leg after feeling her touch. With his hand resting on top of hers, he found himself merely calming down at her touch. "I'm going to go help mom." She whispered, her hand now resting on his shoulder before she excused herself from the table and towards the kitchen with her mother and Price's wife, Alice. 

"Kiera, darling!" Alice smiled, opening her arms to embrace her. "I'm so happy to see you! This place is beautiful!" 

"I'm so glad you made it!" She smiled into the woman's shoulder. "I was worried your flight was delayed because of the holidays." 

She laughed, "Well, knowing my husband, he was sure to get me to schedule my flight early as well as the earliest time in the morning so that if it did delay, I'd still be here a day early." 

"I'm surprised he didn't go and get you himself." She poked. 

"Believe me, I'm sure he's thought about it!" She giggled. "So, what presentation can I grab to take to the table?" 

"I'm finishing up the turkey now," Eva replied, taking a quick glance towards Jacob and Evie that were in their chairs, smiling at their perfection. I can't wait to spoil you two like eggs! She hummed to herself. "The potatoes and green beans are done."

"Great! I'll go ahead and take them to the table." 

"Thank you so much," Eva smiled, wiping her hands on her apron. "Just keep the sides away from that husband of mine. He's notorious for trying to sneak an early bite." 

"Heavens, I'll have to put them towards the middle because my husband tries to do the same thing too!" Alice laughed. 

"We might as well take it all out at one time, because I wouldn't put it past Johnny to try and sneak a bite, too. He's towards the middle of the table and my dad and Price are on the end." Kiera added. 

"I'm sure Simon wouldn't let Johnny considering he has that established death glare with him, sweetheart." Eva giggled. 

"I don't know about that. He's too busy keeping an eye on that boy." 

"How's the young man doing?" 

"He's improved a lot," Kiera relieved. "He and Simon had a rough start, but he's growing on him." 

"You mean Simon is growing on him?" Eva questioned, confused. 

"No, Baler is growing on Simon," She corrected. "They're just alike." 

"You know, I was just thinking that little Baler and Simon have similarities." 

Kiera hummed in agreement, glancing towards the dining room to make direct eye contact with Simon who had been staring - admiring - at her. She wasn't sure what he was thinking about when she caught him staring, but she couldn't overlook the gleam of lust behind those brown eyes of his. She smirked at him, getting out of her mother's line of sight before removing her phone from her jacket pocket, purposely sending Simon a rather suggestive image of herself she had taken earlier and meant to send to him then, but she was glad she waited until now to send it, knowing she was continuing the dangerous dance of lust.

She watched him look at his phone, concealing it under the table as a part of him knew she had sent him something only his eyes needed to see. 

Breathing heavily through his nose, he knew he was going to rail her twice as long for teasing him - especially having the nerve to test his intimate patience while in an area where he couldn't express it. Bloody lass is going to be begging me to let her come, he huffed to himself, knowing he and Kiera shared the same heavy desire towards each other courtesy of their playful teasing hours prior. 

»»-------¤-------««

Although it was completely unexpected that the dinner took longer than expected as judged from the year prior, Simon and Kiera ended up heading back home a quarter until one a.m. "Sir, can I sleep in the bunkhouse tonight?" Baler asked suddenly, catching the couple off guard. 

"Why?" 

He gulped in nervousness, "I know it's late, but with the holiday I figured I'd sleep in the bunkhouse and get started early with chores..." 

"Why don't you want to sleep here?" Kiera questioned, her brows furrowed in concern as she suddenly felt like Baler didn't want to be in their household. 

"Honestly," He sighed. "That couch is very comfortable and I'm afraid I'll oversleep where I don't have an alarm clock. I figured if I slept in the bunkhouse, I'll be up when the wranglers do and won't get behind." 

Kiera shrugged, "I respect your responsibility, honey. If that's what you want to do." 

"I'll take you down there." Simon responded, holding Evie close to his chest as Kiera did the same with Jacob, keeping their small bodies secured within the warmth of their blankets. 

"O-Okay. Thank you." 

You just did yourself a favor, lad, Simon mused, strongly resisting a smirk as Baler had unconsciously saved himself from possibly having to hear the couple's unedifying and extended withholding from each other. "Just give us a minute to put them to bed and I'll take you down there." 

"Okay. I'll wait on the couch." 

Simon followed behind Kiera on the way to the nursery, watching her lay Jacob's drowsy body into his crib, smiling at how he nursed on his pacifier with heavy eyelids. However, Evie wasn't as easy to put down for bed as she grew to grow restless after being carried. "She's probably hungry, babe. I'll get her settled while you take Baler to the bunkhouse." 

He nodded, handing Evie to her mother before his hands found their way to her hips, squeezing slightly as he pressed his lips to the crown of her head, "I didn't forget about that stunt you pulled at dinner." 

She blushed, "Oh... My phone must've been acting up and sent that picture by accident." 

"No, I think you were acting up, love," He breathed against her hair. "Don't be a brat about it." 

"I might just be a brat," She giggled. "You won't do anything about it." 

He sighed heavily through his nostrils, "You'll see." 

"Should I break out the burn creme from my hospital days for when you tie me up?" She teased. 

"Negative, love," He smirked against her head. "I won't tie 'em too tight." 

"Oh, so you're planning on tying me up now?" She arched her brow. 

"If you want me to. I know plenty of knots and have a couple in mind to brat tame your arse." 

"I look forward to it. I'll make up a safe word while you're gone." She teased while moving to the rocking chair, sitting down slowly while holding Evie close to her chest. 

"You'll need one." He huffed playfully before exiting the room to take Baler to the bunkhouse, knowing that if he stayed in her presence any longer, he knew he wouldn't be able to hide his arousal unless he was able to do something about it. 

»»-------¤-------««

After taking Baler to the bunkhouse, Simon found himself rushing to get back to the house knowing that he and Kiera could finally be alone. 

His first stop was to the nursery, glancing in the dimly lit room to see if she was still in the rocking chair. Seeing that both babies were in their cribs, Evie making small little noises as she nursed on her pacifier, he was satisfied that they were tucked in and comfortable before continuing his pursuit of his partner. 

Their bedroom was dimly lit by the single lamp on the nightstand as Kiera sat on the edge of the bed with a silk robe clinging to her shoulders. He breathed heavily through his nose at the sight of her. "I had some trouble making up a safe word," She breathed a giggle. "I wasn't sure if you were serious or not..." 

"I was dead serious, love," He replied, standing in front of her and reaching out to cup her jaw. "Only if you want to."

"I want to, but I'm nervous..." 

"That's when you leave it to me." He breathed, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her cheek. 

"How rough are going to get rough with me?" 

"Depends on how rough you want me to, love," He assured her. "This ball is in your court when it comes to this." 

She nodded, peering her tongue from between her lips, "I'm ready." 

"I have another question for you." 

"Hm?" 

He leant over her to gently push her body down onto the bed with his torso, caging her between his arms while her legs instinctively went to wrap around his waist. "I can get rougher than what I've done with you before..." 

"That wasn't a question?" She giggled, pressing a kiss to his hot lips. 

"I was getting to it, but you're distracting me." 

"I'm sorry," She smiled. "What were you going to ask? If I wanted Simon or Ghost to put me in my place?" 

"Such a good mind reader, love." He smirked. 

"I knew it," She hummed. "I think Simon gets minorly rough, but Ghost? Fuck, I'm in for it." 

"Well?" He arched his brow. 

"I think Ghost can handle putting me in my place," She giggled, thoroughly excited for it. "Simon wants to, but I know he'll feel bad." She continued, talking to him in third person. 

"What makes you think that?" 

"Just an assumption, babe." 

He breathed a chuckle, "Well, if that's what you want, I'll gladly comply." 

"I want you to do what you want to me." She said sternly, a gleam of confidence in her eyes at the desire he made her fantasize about. With him, she had managed to void the haunting and traumatizing thoughts of what had happened to her in her past as well as after the hijacking and hostage situation in Urzikstan. She trusted Simon with her entire life - multiple times over if she could. 

Simon knew he couldn't do everything he wanted when it came to playing rough, sincerely wanting to avoid making her uncomfortable or hurting her in any way, especially where he knew she was still mentally recovering from the trauma she and many other women endured during their time held hostage. A part of him felt that she was asking him to be rough with her as a way of healing - a way of trusting him with her body as she knew he would never take advantage of her in any way. 

Especially intimately. 

"In that case, have you thought about a safe word yet?" He spoke lowly into her ear, satisfied at feeling her shiver under him by his words alone. 

She shook her head and licked her lips out of nervousness. 

"How about red? You can remember red, right?" He snickered, watching her nod in agreement. "Good girl. Give me your hands." He continued, watching her do as she was told while he moved his body to stand at the edge of the bed, bringing her up by her hands and moving them to where her palms pressed against his stomach. "Keep them there." 

She nodded, breathing in excitement as she watched him remove his belt and gently twisting it to where it secured her wrists together while her palms still pressed against the hard muscle of his abdomen, her eyes widening with lust when his right hand clasped gently against her neck, forcing her gaze to peer up at him, seeing Simon's eyes darkening at the sight of her doe eyes staring up at him. He studied her face for any discomfort before continuing, keeping a prominent note of her body language before he did anything else. Seeing that she was rather excited instead of uncomfortable, he reached down to tuck at the silk belt that kept her robe clasped shut, untying it with one hand and releasing it from the loops on the robe that kept the belt in place, breathing heavily as its front clung to her breasts, revealing only to him those two perfect mounds that drove him wild at the sight alone. 

Running the pad of his thumb against her bottom lip, he then used both of his hands to slowly and gently place the silk belt around her eyes, tying it together at the crown of her head before his hands cupped her face, "This is only the beginning, love."  

"Is it crazy how I was expecting you to push me down on this bed and gut me from the inside?" She giggled. "I was kind of excited for that." 

"You need to walk before you run, sweetheart. You have a long night ahead of you." 

Her breath hitched at his proposal as her tongue slipped from her mouth to nervously lick her bottom lip. "I look forward to it." 

"Such a cocky little minx, yeah?" He chuckled, watching her nod in agreement as well as growing immensely excited at his mild degrading. "On your knees." 

"Okay-" she said nervously.

"It's not okay," Simon warned, arching his brow. 

She giggled, "Yes, sir." 

"Good girl," He praised, gently grasping her upper arm as he helped her move into position, looking down at her while she willingly sat on her heels and kept her bound wrists in her lap. She heard the zipper on his jeans move as well as felt his presence step closer to her, feeling the tip of his cock press against her lips. She couldn't help but pucker her lips against his aching head, tasting the semi-sweet taste of his precum flood her desire even more. "Open your mouth," He breathed, grasping her hair and moving her head back. "Flatten your tongue." 

He shivered while he watched the head of his cock disappear between her teeth, feeling the roof of her mouth with his sensitive tip, gently pushing forward only to feel her throat constrict briefly as well as her body's natural instinct to pull away, except the grip from Simon's hand on her head prevented her from doing so. "What's wrong, love? Too big for you?" He mocked, watching the corners of her mouth curl into an exciting smirk. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You can take it. Open wider." He directed, using his other hand to clasp the bottom of her jaw, the pad of his thumb against her chin as she relaxed against his touch, flattening her tongue under his cock and his tip protruding past the tight muscle of her throat. "Your tongue is bloody perfect," He growled. "All fucking mine." 

Slowly, he began moving her head against his cock, keeping a sharp eye on her for any trace of discomfort as he truly didn't want to ruin this type of play for her, letting her take it at her own pace, except Simon saw himself as coaching her through it instead of forcing her. She moaned against his length, the vibrations from her mouth making his cock twitch. Simon couldn't help but lean his head back at the sensation from her perfect mouth, letting her take her time with pleasing him with her tongue. He soon felt her hands pressing against his thighs. Looking down, he had realized that she had released her hands from the restraint of the belt he had loosely tied around her wrists - only loosely tying them for her own good as triggering a stress habit was the most of his worries when it came to this type of intimate encounter with her. Once Kiera had realized he saw she pulled her hands free, her lips curled into a smirk before she heard him speak, "Looks like I'll have to tighten that up, yeah?" 

He let her pull her head away from his cock, tilting her head up as if she were looking at him, although Simon perfectly pictured those perfect hazel eyes through the silk of the makeshift blindfold, "More like you have to work on your binding skills. You made it too easy, babe." 

"You have a knack for talking your shite, love." He scoffed. 

"What're you going to do about it?" Her brow arched. 

"I got something to shut that mouth up," He growled lowly, cupping the crown of her skull and returning his cock into her mouth, feeling her giggle against him before her throat seemed to relax against his length, welcoming him in further down against her tongue. "Much better." 

The next several minutes were pure bliss for him as she managed to twist her tongue perfectly against the bottom of his shaft as well as applying the right amount of suction by hollowing her cheeks. Using the grip he had on her hair to move her head against him, he stilled after a few minutes, filling her mouth with his hot spend before pulling her head back by her hair, "Open your mouth," He directed, groaning as he watched her do as she was told. "Swallow it." 

She swallowed without a second thought, licking her lips clean before he helped her to her feet by gently grasping her neck while letting her hands clasp against his forearms for support before he slowly pushed her down onto the bed with his body, smirking at how the robe completely revealed her body for him. "Look at you," He breathed. "You were fucking ready for me when I got back." 

"How could I not?" She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck only for him to pin her hands by her head. 

"I haven't given you permission to touch me yet," He warned. "And by the way, although you are completely stunning in this, it's going to be a shame that it'll be unable to wear again after I'm done." 

"Lace doesn't rip so easily, Simon..." She giggled, moaning once his lips came in contact with her neck just below her ear. 

"Probably not, but I know it cuts rather easily." 

She shivered at his words, relaxing against his touch as his right hand delicately traced along the smooth skin of her leg and up her thigh, tracing up against her side and gently cupping her left breast. She couldn't help but wrap her legs around his waist and pull him closer to her, feeling his semi-hard cock against her hot core, begging him to stretch her around him. "Not so fast, love," He groaned. "You haven't earned it yet." 

"I think I've earned it since you put a ring on my finger." She giggled. 

"Oh, I've been all yours since before I did that," He smirked. "As for right now, you haven't earned it yet for teasing me all day." 

"Silly me." She poked, smiling when she felt his left hand clasp her wrists together. 

"Don't move," He said, leaving the bed to retrieve his belt that she left on the floor before walking around to the side of the bed to grasp her wrists and bind them back together and buckling the belt around the headboard. "Be careful when you try to pull yourself out of these this time. They'll bite." 

"So do I." She giggled. 

He huffed, "Well, sink those pretty teeth into me all you like, sweetheart."

She shivered when she felt his presence grow distant from her. Not being able to see him due to the makeshift blindfold, she grew slightly nervous when she realized he had briefly exited the room, returning after a couple of minutes and feeling his presence next to the bed. "Nervous?" He chuckled, grasping a chunk of ice from the glass he brought with him. 

"No." She shook her head.

"Good. Last thing I want is for you to feel like you should be nervous around me." 

She licked her lips, feeling his lips coming close to hers and willingly welcoming his kiss, shuttering at the taste of wine filling her mouth. She gasped after she swallowed, feeling his lips making a trail of their own against her neck, between her breasts, and down to her abdomen, the ice between his teeth leaving a cold trail against her skin. She couldn't help but pull at her restraints when she felt his hot breath fanning over her core, feeling the tip of his nose against her lace underwear, anticipating the sensation of his lips surrounding her clit. Unaware that his eyes were locked on her from between her legs, she gasped when she felt the tip of his tongue dance against her aching clit against the lace fabric of her underwear. She moaned at the sensation, desperately pulling at her restraints to lock her fingers through his hair, but she had no luck. 

With a smirk, he curled his index finger around her underwear, feeling her anticipation against his finger, chuckling at how she arched her hips against his touch, desperate for friction to satisfy herself. "The more you keep begging for it, the longer I'm going to tease you." He warned. 

She groaned, "Please, I need you!" 

"Such an impatient minx you are. You'll be lucky to just get the tip." 

Huffing, she relaxed against him, knowing he was going to continue teasing her with just the tip of his tongue, assuming that he enjoyed giving her this sexual torture by how he fanned his breath over her clit and only kissing around her vulva and against her labia, purposely not giving any attention to the areas she desperately wanted touched the most. He moved her leg to where it rested against his shoulder, using the leverage to her advantage to move her hips upward against his mouth, giggling when he snaked his arm above her waist to pin her back down on the bed. "Pushing your luck, sweetheart." 

"Worth it." 

He shook his head against her thigh, barely coaxing his index finger past her folds and curling upwards, finding the spongy material of her g-spot. "I knew you'd let me have it." She teased, her smirk fading once he pulled his finger away and out of her. 

"What was that?" He arched his brow, moving the fabric of her underwear back over her core and leaning up to bring his soaked index finger towards her mouth, satisfied that she willingly accepted by letting his finger enter between her lips. "Lick it clean." He ordered. Do I always taste this sweet? She wondered. 

He pressed the weight of his hips between her legs, feeling her moan at the sensation as his aching head was only centimeters away from her core, knowing that he'd be able to effortlessly slip in if he kept gently rolling his hips against her. 

He let her roll her hips into him while he kissed her neck with pure excitement, unable to refrain a groan of his own when he felt the head of his cock slipping towards her core with every roll of his hips, the fabric of her lace underwear moving to the side with every roll. 

Eventually, the head of his cock slid in slowly, feeling her wince in his ear at the welcoming stretch his length always gave her. She couldn't help but wrap her legs around his waist and squeeze, desperate to pull him fully into her. "Not so fast," He groaned. "Just the tip, love." 

She huffed in frustration, continuing to squeeze her legs around him anyway just for him to clamp his hand around her neck - a warning. "You know you want to." She begged, licking her lips. 

He smirked against her neck before his lips found their way to hers and forcing his hips to stop, "I want to fuck you absolutely blind, love." 

"Then do it." 

"Careful what you wish for." He grumbled against her lips, pulling away to sit back on his knees, grasping her hips and forcefully turning her over to where she was bent over in doggystyle. He removed his pocketknife and cut the lace underwear from her hips and tossed them to the side. When he felt her lean back towards him, he couldn't help but swat her ass harshly before he lined himself up with her entrance, waiting a few moments to give him another reason to spank her again. 

She licked her lips with excitement, leaning her rear towards him again just to feel him slap her ass again, "Am I making you angry, sir?" She giggled. 

"Not in the slightest," He grumbled, grasping both of her cheeks with his massive hands, holding her still before he slowly entered her, forcing himself to hold back just how rough he could get until she took him with ease, knowing the stretch he always gave her could be uncomfortable, no matter how many times he had gotten rough before. She gasped at the sensation, naturally arching her back while her walls couldn't help but constrict around him. He nearly lost himself right then and there, but he refrained. "Fucking hell, love." He grumbled. 

"What?" 

"Always so fucking tight for me." He winced, squeezing her ass in his hands while he began to thrust slowly for a few strokes, knowing she was purposely squeezing her walls against him to test his patience for a desired release. 

Once he felt her relax against him, his thrusts began to grow into rough strokes, bottoming out every time as he swore he could feel her cervix. Her moans were loud and quick, making Simon wonder if he was hurting her with the force of his powerful hips, but when he saw that she was equally as excited, he continued. 

Soon, his hands trailed along her scarred back before stopping at her shoulders - his left hand grasping her hair at their roots while the other clamped down on her shoulder, holding her still while he continued rutting ruthlessly into her, that same hand that clamped on her shoulder reaching up to cover her mouth, "Can't be making too much noise, love," He breathed into her ear. She moaned into his palm, pressing her lips against him before his fingers curled into her mouth, groaning when he felt her suck his fingers while he continued to thrust. "Get those fingers nice and wet for me, sweetheart." 

She moaned in reply when she felt him still briefly, letting go of her hair and removing his fingers from her mouth, her body tensing when she felt his index and middle finger trailing the column of her back and stopping at her ass. She then knew what he meant by getting his fingers wet. In truth, she was scared of letting him enter her there as she had never done it willingly before as well as it being something that was ruined for her by her assailants, but she forced herself to trust him and take it as something that she could grow to enjoy as she knew that Simon wouldn't take advantage of her like that. 

With that thought, she began to grow excited for the new sensation. 

A small gasp left her lips when she felt his index finger slowly enter her anus, adjusting to the sensation. "You alright, love?" 

She nodded, relaxing her body against him as he pressed his finger further into her while his cock was still and buried between her slick walls. "Fuck," He winced, excited to enter her there as it was tight against his finger as well as feeling her walls tighten against his cock. "Do you want me to fuck you here?" 

"Yes, sir." She nodded, licking her lips, hoping Simon wouldn't recognize the nervous strain of her voice. 

But he noticed.

That's why he used his fingers. 

If he were honest, he didn't want to because he knew that it could trigger a stress response from what happened in Urzikstan, but he had remembered that it was the subject of conversation between them at some point when she wanted to talk about having sex again as well as having anal sex with him to help her mentally heal from the experience and wanting to enjoy it. Only with him:

»»-------¤-------««

"Simon, can I ask you something?" She asked with her head against his chest, the couple having one of many nights where they both couldn't sleep. 

"Anything, love." 

"When we... have sex again, I-I think I want to try something." 

"What did you have in mind?" 

"Um, I've never willingly had, you know, ana-"

"Don't force yourself to do it, love. I don't want to put that pressure on you." 

"No, I want to... eventually, but after what happened... I'm afraid I'll ruin it for you."

"You won't ruin anything for me," He assured her, rubbing his thumb against her shoulder while pulling her closer against him. "I won't do anything without asking you first. You know that." 

"I-I know, but I want to enjoy that at some point, but it hurts." 

He knew what she was talking about when she implied it. 

"Don't force yourself to talk about it," He breathed. "When you're ready." 

"I think I'm ready for it, but I don't know how to enjoy it without being reminded of what happened." 

"How about this: I'll start with a finger and if you don't want to, I'll stop," He suggested. "I don't want to do anything you're not ready for, love." 

She nodded, "I trust you, Simon. With my life and my body. I know you wouldn't just outright do it without bringing it up to me." 

"I never would."

»»-------¤-------««

"Remember to use your words with me, love." He reminded her, hoping that she was truly ready for it as it was a big step for her as well as overcoming her trauma. 

"Just go slow, babe." 

He nodded, removing himself from her and moving his body to where he could reach her nightstand, removing the silicone rabbit vibrator and a bottle of lube from the drawer, deciding to use the vibrator and dildo combo for her own pleasure and the lube for easier penetration when he entered her there. He turned the dildo on its lowest vibration setting, replacing his cock with the toy as the vibrator nestled against her clit, causing her to moan at the sensation, Kiera mentally thanking him for the distraction while she felt the cold sensation of the lubricant against her rectum. 

She couldn't help but wince when she felt his shaft slide between her ass, spreading the lubricant all over his cock before he rested the tip against her anus, pressing slightly while keeping a sharp eye on her face, willing to stop if he felt she was uncomfortable. "Ready?" 

She nodded, waiting for the sharp pain of him entering when it was rather enjoyable. Slowly, he managed to squeeze the head of his cock into her with slow, even pressure, stopping once he entered just the tip, "Are you okay, love?" 

She nodded again. 

"Use your words, sweetheart." 

"Yes, Simon." 

"Good girl. Just relax, the hardest part is almost over." He assured her, pressing in just a bit more before feeling her body tense against him again, her jaw agape as she moaned. Once fully inside, he held himself still as he let her body adjust to the new sensation. "How does it feel?" 

"Good," She breathed. "It kind of hurts..." 

"Do you want me to stop?" 

"N-No." 

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. 

"Words, love." He reminded her, his voice soft and patient as his thumbs rubbed circles against her ass. He couldn't be rough with his words like earlier - he knew this would be a hard obstacle for her to hurdle over.

And he wasn't going to continue being rough when he knew this, even when she said she wanted him to be rough in the very beginning. For her sake, he wasn't going to do it even when she said so.

"Yes." 

"Remember to tell me if I need to stop." 

"I will, Simon." 

He nodded to himself when he felt her body relax around him, reaching down to increase the vibration on the dildo before beginning to thrust himself slowly into her. He couldn't lie, it felt great for him and he hoped she felt the same amount of pleasure as he did, especially with the combination of a penetrative toy and vibrator against her so she could chase her own high while he did. 

He watched her grip on the pillows tighten with every thrust, careful to not snap his hips into her like he did before, ensuring to himself that she was enjoying it more than him, watching her mouth open to release a moan every time he fully sheathed himself inside of her. Her walls tightened around the toy, feeling her stomach tighten as the tidal wave of her orgasm was on the horizon, concentrating on the new sensation to help her achieve her release, forcing herself to focus on Simon and not what happened to her as a part of her didn't want to ruin the new position for him. Judging by his groans, he was growing close to his release as well, his goal of achieving his release with her always in his mind. "How are you feeling?" He asked lowly. 

"Good," She breathed. "Harder." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes!" 

His thrusting began to pick up pace, increasing the sensation for the pair of them as the toy moved further up into her vagina every time his thighs met the back of hers, her body began to rock against him as the vibrations against her clit began to draw her orgasm closer and closer. Soon, she could barely even remember how painful it was when he first entered her, knowing that her body fully relaxed as she took his length with more excitement than fear. Her body began to tremble as her orgasm took over her, feeling him still as he found his own release, keeping himself sheathed inside of her as his hands moved against her back when she propped herself up. She turned her head, her lips meeting his while his other hand slid the makeshift blindfold from her eyes. "There you are." He smirked, searching her eyes for any trace of discomfort. 

She hummed, kissing him again before pressing her chest against the pillows, her arms weak from holding herself up and enjoying the sensation of Simon's warm palms tracing down her back and reaching down to slowly remove the toy from her folds, tossing it to the side before he slowly started to remove his cock from her rectum. "Relax," He spoke. "It may feel uncomfortable." 

His eyes never left her face as he pulled himself out slowly, watching her body relax once he was fully out as well as a sigh leaving her lips. He leant down to press a kiss to her temple before releasing her wrists from the belt keeping them against the headboard, "Let's go shower before going to bed, yeah?" 

"Okay," She giggled. "What time is it?" 

"Almost five." 

"Jesus! I'm glad we don't have much to do later." 

"I told you that you were going to have a long night ahead of you." He chuckled. 

"Yeah, you weren't lying." 

"I mean, I can go a few more rounds..." 

"Maybe another day!" She giggled. 

"You're right, we'll save that for the honeymoon." 

[aihoshiino]

Hi there! This is from an ask from quite a while ago. I sent it before but I think Tumblr ate it once again.

"Honestly Ai's relationship with like, sex and intimacy and sex in the context of a loving relationship being healing and reclaiming for her is one of those things I have so much fun writing in the context of RP and stuff but if I continued rambling about it here I would go on all day lol and this post is already so long. IN ANOTHER ASK, PERHAPS ……."

I would like to hear your thoughts and ramblings about this please 人´∀｀)

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE ANON… I've been sitting on this ask for so long and I've had so many half finished responses to it written up kgjhhsfkg This is just one of those topics where I have so much to say every time I tried to start I got overwhelmed and didn't know where to start… BUT WE'RE SO BACK…!!!

(Also, this is basically part 2/a follow up to this post if anyone wants/needs some extra context)

Honestly Ai's relationship to sex and the role it plays in her character arc is one of the most fascinating parts of Oshi no Ko to me and I'm always really surprised that it basically never comes up in fandom discussions surrounding her? Part of that is just folks wanting to talk about/speculate more on the characters who are alive and present in the series (or have ship wars about them) but even when people DO go back and talk about her it tends to be kind of surface level or just, the worst takes you've ever seen in your life (if I never have to see another Secretly Evil Ai theory it will be too soon) but like… the sex stuff is also pretty surface level! That friction between Ai of B-Komachi's assumed obligate virginal purity and the reality of Ai Hoshino as a person who has had and desires sex basically IS the entire premise of the series. It's the core conflict around which so much of everything else revolves - it's the reason the twins have to keep quiet on their connection to her and moreover, it's the reason she dies. But honestly given how this fandom gets about sex sometimes maybe that's a blessing in disguise lol

It is SO refreshing to have a lead heroine like Ai, though - like I said, the reality of her as a person who has had Probably A Lot Of Sex is pretty much the premise of the series and at no point does the narrative ever take on a shaming tone towards her. Hell, the explicitly stated thesis of the story is that it's everyone who has a problem with this who should be ashamed. Gotanda literally says it himself - Ai's tragedy is the fault of the people who refused to accept her as the hurting, broken, dirty and impure person that the real her was.

In fact, the series is shockingly respectful of Ai and her body in general. This is very much a "the bar is in hell" moment but I'm so used to anime taking every opportunity it can get for lowbrow cumbrained fanservice that the series just being, like, normal about Ai was a breath of fresh fucking air. It's so easy to imagine an infinitely worse version of the series that uses Aqua's access to her body (as both Gorou and Aqua) to frame and leer at her in some really repulsive ways, but it literally never happens. It's one of those things the first chapter/episode does that earns it a lot of goodwill in the long run which it does honestly need lol. The initial premise of the series asks a lot of the viewer, especially given that Mushoku Tensei exists and very much does use the protagonist's plausibly deniable access to the bodies of women and girls around him for some truly putrid and degrading shit. BUT BACK TO MY ACTUAL POINT…

That pointed absence of shaming in the narrative is why it stands out to me so strongly when Ai does direct this kind of shaming language towards herself. Ai engages in a lot of negative self-talk in general because of how utterly pants her self-esteem is, but it's never quite as pointed as in these circumstances. Her death scene is honestly the best and most heartbreaking example of it - the anime trims a few slivers from it to the benefit of the scene as a whole imo, but it does retain the most important line:

But there's another part from slightly earlier on that didn't make it into the anime that equally breaks my heart:

All that Ai refutes of Ryosuke's words is his conclusion that she never cared about her fans. In other words, when Ryosuke slings slutshaming misogyny at her, Ai agrees with him.

And like… why wouldn't she? Society at large already has very strong opinions about women who have and enjoy sex and Ai is an idol - that's purity culture on Berserk Eclipse Difficulty. To make matters worse, Ai's entire life has been defined by her being denied the right to control her own body or being blamed for the way other people respond to it. Not only was Ayumi physically and emotionally abusive towards her for basically her whole life, but she also victim blamed her when her stepfather turned out to have a inappropriate interest in her. Even when she was literally a child, she was not allowed to simply exist without being subjected to other people's gaze and objectification.

It's also worth noting that the abuse Ai grew up experiencing - Ayumi's violence and neglect and living with the possibility of sexual assault at her stepfather's hands - are all things that can contribute to hypersexuality in puberty or at the very least, being prematurely sexually active and/or partaking in risky sexual behaviour and I think all of these are true for Ai as well, to varying degrees. My read has always been that the twins' father was not her first or only sexual partner (though he was her last) and I think this is something the work itself supports as well - Akane identifies Ai as having behavioral issues typical of someone who began having sex during puberty (and she does specifically say 'puberty' in Japanese, not just 'as a teen') but that this behaviour mostly tapered off by the time she was 15 and credits it by inference to Kamiki. So obviously, if the 'unbalanced behaviour' as the result of sex predates her meeting Kamiki… you know?

I also just personally find that a more compelling read of Ai for a variety of reasons - and it just sort of makes sense to me, to imagine her as this girl desperately trying to figure out how to love people, wanting to connect with people but not knowing how to do it, someone defined by the ways she contorts herself to respond to the dirty desires of the people around her… idk, it just feels Correct to me in light of everything to assume that she went through a few boyfriends before Kamiki, all relationships that went very fast, escalated to intimacy at light speed then just sort of fell apart after. And we know from what Ayumi admitted - and from some of the things Ai has said - that Ayumi absolutely was slutshaming and victim blaming Ai when she was in her care. So much of what Ayumi did to her forms the foundation of the present day Ai's self-loathing and self-image issues, so I imagine she felt a lot of prebaked guilt and shame when she did actually start having sex, especially at a young age and outside the bounds of a what society regards as an acceptable circumstance for a girl to be having sex. So add idol culture on top of all that, and…

I don't think Ai's relationship with sex is necessarily the main issue she struggles with but it does feed off and into a lot of the other things that cause her pain and being able to untangle that would represent an earthshattering breakthrough for her. This is why it's so important that Oshi no Ko never ones tries to debunk or disprove Ai's assertion that she is 'impure' or 'dirty' and why I do not think a positive character arc for her could never come from someone trying to convince her that she isn't. Because that doesn't actually disprove anything - it still frames purity and virginity as a state of grace that can be fallen from and reinforces Ai's view of herself that she only has value, that she only deserves to be treated with respect so long as she's still 'pure'. Even if you could convince her that she's 'pure', she would inevitably be stained again and hate herself all the more for it. The only way out is to break out of this method of thinking altogether, to realize that 'purity' and 'impurity' don't mean anything - and more importantly, that even though she is dirty, impure and all the rest of it, she is still capable and deserving of loving others and being loved in return.

To quote something I've said before on this topic: "Love, for Ai, is a person seeing her most wretched and unacceptable self, her self hate and avoidance and everything about her she thinks is filthy and wrong, and actively choosing to accept her as she is, warts and all. […] There's this very strong underlying current in Ai's arc of self-directed shame and self-hate in relation to her sexuality that fuels perception of herself as 'dirty' and 'impure' - all because she is a person who wants and enjoys sex. I really enjoy getting to have Ai work through that specific hangup with a partner who loves her - not from the angle of 'of course you're not dirty' but 'even if you are, I want you anyway'."

So much of what hurts Ai is other people refusing to accept 'Ai Hoshino' and even being actively repelled and repulsed by her, choosing instead to believe so fervently in the inhumanly perfect 'Ai of B-Komachi' that they convince themselves the real Ai is just a trick of the light. Sex is basically the ultimate refutation to that - it's someone saying they actively choose the dirty, broken real thing which is what Ai has desperately been searching for her entire life. It's also the inverse of the plastic. sanitized intimacy Ai sells as an idol - rather that pretty lies of love, it's dirty, physical intimacy, something she can do as much for herself as the person with her, something that can only ever be hers as Ai Hoshino because it's antithetical to everything Ai of B-Komachi is.

what i'm saying is: can this girl PLEASE get some good dick. i don't know how much of anything it would fix but it would make her calm down at least a little.

ALL JOKING ASIDE……. thank you again for your patience anon and i'm sorry this was so rambly lKNDKSCXSNDS. like i said up top, this is a topic i have a lot of thoughts on and i wanted to get them all out into this post. i hope this was interesting to read…!

[gothicflowers]

Philip x f!reader

“Breathe”

SFW - Panic Attack

There was so many people at the yearly shadow company banquet. The amount of shadows had doubled in the past years. There had to be at least 150 people here. And being the commanders wife meant the whole night was spent forcing out hellos and smiles until your cheeks hurt.

Socializing has always been a struggle for you. Always trying to run under the radar. Surprisingly that’s what attracted Philip to you. The loudest man in the room and the lady that never spoke. He found it adorable, much to your surprise he never pushed you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with when it came to socializing.

He knew that it was difficult for you to be in this sort of situation but always maintained positive physical contact with you to let you know he’s there. His hand on your back, hip or your favorite, arms loops together holding you close while rubbing your hand.

It was time for speeches and afterwards the real party would start. Philip as usual would close out speeches for the night, and here the man of the hour was wrapping things up.

“Gentleman I’d say we’ve had one hell of a good year. Partners of shadows I’d like to thank you all for your constant support so these men could go out and get the tough jobs done. And lastly I’d like to thank someone that goes under appreciated. Without her our operations would be an unorganized mess. She’s truly a shadow because you’ll never see all the work she does to ensure we are ready for battle.”

All the shadows knew who he was talking to. Over the past few years you became a mother figure to the company. Always checking in on them after missions. Acting as the company counselor in times of distress. Always cooking and baking because it was calming for you. Making sure all the ammunition and weapons were serviced and stocked. Piles of paperwork. You did the small things that could easily be overlooked.

Suddenly the everyone was standing and a loud round of applause filled the room. Shyly smiling and looking down at the table after realizing everyone had eyes on you. The kind gesture sent you into a sheer panic. Your mind headed straight for the worst. They must have been whispering about you. Judging your hair, dress, posture. Everything. The familiar feeling of being uncomfortable in your skin set in again a burning sensation.

“And on that final note please enjoy the rest of your night ladies and gentlemen.”

By the time graves made it back to your table your hands were shaking. And you could feel your throat start to tighten.

He nealed down infront of you when he noticed you were trying your hardest to disassociate.“Baby what’s wrong”

You choked the words out “they all looked at me, it was terrifying”

Philip quickly realized that what he intended as a kind gesture of appreciation sent you into a panic. He didn’t even realize what the consequences could be of drawing attention to you.

“Oh baby I didn’t mean for it to-“

“Can we go outside”

He gently grabbed your hand helping you up from your seat “of course”

After what felt like a small eternity trying to catch your breath Philip asked if you’d like to turn in for the night. It was an easy answer. Philip helped you into the car and went back in to retrieve your clutch and shawl.

The car ride back was silent until Philip spoke up.

“I’m so proud, you did so well”

“Everyone was looking at me Philip. I appreciate you mentioning me in your speech but I didn’t think they’d do that.”

“Baby, let’s both take a deep breath” Philip grabbed your hands and held them gently in his.

*inhales and exhales together*

You could still feel the tightness in your chest. Tears welling up in your eyes threatening to spill.

“One more for me baby”

*inhales and exhales together again*

His hand gives yours a gentle squeeze. His eyes are calm and relaxed, full of endearing patience and love.

“Good girl”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I panicked”

“You have nothing to apologize for baby girl.”

“I know, I could just feel all their eyes on me. I just hate that you have to deal with me freaking out over absolutely nothing. I feel like a burden.”

“Baby you will never be a burden to me. And they all were admiring how beautiful you looked. Hell I had three of the new guys ask how I managed to get such a beautiful woman to marry me. Still not sure how I did honestly. But everyone loved you baby. Now would you like your weighted blanket and headphones to help?”

“Blanket please”

[cherrypikkins]

FE3H Portrait Request - Bonus round!

Thank you everyone who sent in their requests and also for your patience as I complete them! While I finish off the last handful of requests, please take the time to vote on the final portrait!!

We shall see the result in one week and I will draw the highest-voted character! :3 I specifically chose characters who did not get a portrait this round and last year.