#but like they gave the character pure white skin

[walnutcookie]

hey chat if someone theoretically were to whitewash one of my characters would it be acceptable to ask them (nicely and politely) to make their skin darker or should i just be grateful ...

[rainrot4me]

Sick Days

Summary: The Creepypasta guys are feeling a little under the weather. You, their lovely partner, spend the day taking care of them (whether they like it or not).

Characters: {Separate} Jeff the Killer x Reader, Ticci Toby x Reader, Masky x Reader

TW: Very domestic and fluffy, slight bickering

Words: 6.7k

A/N: Sorry for the delay! More Christmas-themed works coming out shortly!

Seven days of pure snowfall and ice.

It had snowed a lot—a thick blanket of white across the forest deep enough to get your boots stuck in. Winter always seemed to roll around the Slenderwoods a little later in the year, but when it did, it was brutal. And, with so much pristine white covering the ground, the mansion was on full display in contrast to the grayed-out trees. 

Slenderman gave his orders. This meant longer missions, longer days in the frigid temperatures, and even longer nights recovering. You would think natural-born killers would have some inkling of instinct to keep themselves alive, but when they all returned practically half-dead… 

Thick jackets and worn shoes piled by the door, somehow still defrosting and leaving obnoxious puddles of water wherever you stepped. Dusty counters were littered with piles of nasty food and dishes, laundry untouched (that wasn’t unusual anyway), and a serious lack of arguing or hysterical fighting between the walls (that was unusual). It seems the weather hadn’t only brought down health, but moods too.

So, when things turn bad in the mansion, where do they end up? 

Your front door.

Jeff the Killer ▸

Jeff knocked nonstop until you opened your door, a confused look as to what in the world the killer could need. It wasn’t unusual for Jeff to stop by unannounced; he had made himself at home in your house a long time ago, but it was unusual for him to show up in the middle of the afternoon (broad daylight and all). 

“Jeffrey? Are you alright?” Glancing behind him, you could see where his boots made imprints on the fresh snow covering your sidewalk, dusty snowflakes melting in his dark hair. 

But, finally glancing up to meet his gaze, you could see it.

He looked terrible. More so than usual. Skin raw-red from the cold winds whipping at him, hair tangled, and head pounding in time with his too-loud heartbeat. You knew about the missions, and you knew what being in the cold for too long could do, you just didn’t know someone like Jeff could even get sick.

Stepping aside, Jeff trailed into your home, shoulders hunched so low you thought he was trying to fall over. All he gave you were hoarse grunts and shaky nods as you helped him strip his heavy clothes, shaking the snow from the sleeves onto the doormat outside. By the time you turned around, Jeff was already halfway down the hallway towards your bedroom.

The killer was so exhausted he didn’t even get his muddy boots off before he was face down into the pillows and oblivious to the world. 

Given the grueling retreat he had just returned from, this would have been a reasonable response. But, as his partner, you knew better than most: Jeff never sleeps, especially when he has a fresh mission to brag about. It only took his ragged coughing and blatant pitiful state to figure out you were going to have to help him.

The can of chicken noodle soup you poured into a bowl, then to the microwave, came out steaming hot. You blew on the contents; the smell was nice as you reached for a spoon, and you made a mental note that you would also need to clean his dirty clothes still caked in mud and (hopefully not his) blood. A small towel under the bowl, and you were making your way down the hall. 

Jeff hadn’t even bothered to shut the door; his limp body spread across your mattress like a corpse. He covered his head with a pillow, gripping the fabric and muffling the sputtering snores laced with evident sickness. You had only left him alone to make the soup for a couple of minutes, but that seemed to be enough to knock him out.

Jeff never slept, only when his body really needed it. But right now, his body also really, really needed something in its stomach besides mucus. You set the bowl on your nightstand before slowly kneeling on the bed. What do they say about waking a beast? You couldn’t remember. 

You cringed, teeth gritted as you gently placed your flat hand onto his back. His skin was burning, heat practically radiating from him as you easily rubbed up and down his spine. He didn’t even budge, the only sign of life being the gentle rising and falling of his back as he snored into the fabric of his pillows. You ran your hand higher, fingers rubbing across his shoulders and dipping to the arch of his shoulder blades until you felt his arms slowly shift.

His breathing faltered, consciousness rolling back into him as you shifted, letting one leg dangle off the bed as you sat beside him.

“Mhhmn…” He groaned, stiffly turning his face towards you and glaring through bloodshot eyes. You nearly choked out a laugh, scanning his flushed face and horrible eye bags, appearing even more dead than he normally did. It took the killer a minute to register what was happening, his messy bangs sticking to his forehead and matting wildly; it was evident he could’ve slept for the rest of the day and then some. 

But it was only 3 pm, and the sun shining through his curtains was made even worse by the reflection of the snow. He needed to eat; there was no telling how much he had worn himself down this past week. Jeff was never very good at self-preservation, especially when you had become a net to fall back on.

“Hey man… You wanna try and eat somethin’?” You tried to keep your voice low, the killer rolling onto his back and rubbing his hands over his face. He grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and slowly blinking at the ceiling. 

He nodded.

Reaching for the still-steaming bowl, you cupped the contents in your hands, shifting further onto the bed. Jeff shifted upwards, slowly but surely. It was odd. You had witnessed this man jump fencelines and tackle men double his size, but give him a fever and a headache that can’t be numbed out with alcohol, and suddenly he’s defenseless. You could’ve laughed, taunted him like he often did when you weren’t feeling hot, say something to get his gears going… 

But he just looked so… pitiful. 

One hand cupped under the bowl, you reached the other out, delivering soft touches with the back of your hand on his forehead. Jeff watched through tired eyes, blinking slowly when your fingers brushed his sweat-damp bangs out of his face, leaning closer to your every touch.

Always loud-mouthed and quick to anger, but right now, he was just calm. His body refused to move as quickly as he wanted it to, and his head was far too foggy with nausea to even consider pushing your helpful hand away. So, he just accepted it. Reluctantly, in his mind, but accepted it nonetheless.

“You don’t look so hot. What happened out there?” You paced the words slowly, taking the spoon in your hand and collecting a bit of the soup before bringing it to his pale lips. Jeff closed his eyes when he took the spoonful in his mouth, drinking the warm broth before letting you bring it back to the bowl for another. 

“Forgot to bring extra clothes… Hada’ reuse the same wet shit every day…” His voice was so hoarse, too. He cleared his throat, letting you spoon him another drink of the soup before leaning his head back on the headboard. He sounded like he had been sucking down nothing but cold air, throat raw and scratchy with the sinus infection he was harboring. 

A warm shower? Or maybe bringing him to sit in front of the fireplace you had crackling in the living room? You weren’t sure what he needed, but you knew he needed to sweat out this fever before it became a real problem. He reached for the bowl, cupping the towel underneath to set it in his lap before continuing to fish spoonfuls. The warmth of the soup probably did wonders for his sore throat.

You went to stand, pressing off of the bed before a rough hand wrapped around your wrist. Glancing down, Jeff was tugging you back towards him, knotted brows giving a silent question as to why you were leaving him. You smiled, kneeling back on the mattress to place a quick kiss on his way-too-warm forehead. “I’m starting you a bath, alright? Finish your soup.”

Another quick kiss and he was letting your wrist go, satisfied with your answer. The silence was awkward, but vulnerable and quiet. Jeff had no choice but to let you care for him; something about that made your heart so full.

Roaming to the bathroom, you pushed the curtain to the tub back and flipped the faucet all the way hot. Water filled slowly as you rummaged through the cabinet behind your sink mirror, reading various drugstore medicines and cough syrups before shaking a handful of sinus and head cold pills into your hand. 

You heard the gentle patter of bare feet stepping onto the tile of the bathroom just in time to turn off the running water, the tub steaming with scalding water. Arms wrapped around your middle gently as you shut the cabinet, Jeff’s nose burying into the crook of your neck as he fell limp against your back.

“Sorry…” He mumbled, his face against your skin as he breathed deep, taking in your smell. You smiled, reaching back to brush his hair back before playing yet another kiss on his warm forehead. “Hush. You need to get better, and that mansion is no place to relax. Don’t worry about it.” Despite reassuring him, Jeff still held a defeated look.

Dropping the medicine onto your sink counter, you turned to help him take off his shirt, his hands doing their best to hold onto your arms the entire time. Clingy. 

“I got it.” He huffed, tossing his shirt to the ground.

“I know you do.” You smiled up at him. You undid his belt anyway, undressing him the rest of the way with little protest. There was no flirtatious comment, no sly touches, just a weak, sick boy who wasn’t used to being this vulnerable. It was sweet.

Jeff stepped into the bath, and you left him to get a cup of water. He drank the pills down, skin blotching red with the heat of the water, but at least he looked more relaxed. He was so lengthy, he had to bend his knees to fit comfortably, which you laughed at.

You knelt beside the tub, using that same cup to collect water and rinse his hair. You ran your fingers through the messy strands, his quiet groans making you smile as you poured a small dab of shampoo onto the palm of your hand. Tired eyes watched you carefully when you began to scrub his head, lathering the shampoo between the strands and massaging his scalp. He was falling apart underneath you, soapy bubbles drifting into the water while you washed him off. 

His hands cupped your own, kissing your wrists. He was being so gentle, it almost gave you whiplash. There was no off comment about you catering to him, or being a jerk just for the hell of it; he was being oddly sweet. Maybe his being sick wasn’t so bad.

Until you zoned back into his coughing fit, strained coughs that looked like they physically hurt. You rinsed his hair, careful not to get the soapy water into the gashes on his face as he settled down.

You wiped the water from his face, his clammy skin wet under your hands as you went to stand. Jeff leaned back, letting his head rest against the wall of the tub while you collected his clothes, letting him know you’d be right back.

You needed to do laundry anyway, so grabbing the rest of the killer’s dirty clothing and tossing them into your load was easy enough. They reeked of dirt and outside, splotches of dried blood staining the sleeves of his hoodie. You didn’t want to know about the mission; you didn’t want to know what in the hell caused these stains, but you were sure he’d tell you sometime anyway.

Starting the machine, you shuffled back to your room, rummaging through your drawers for something that the killer could wear. You ended up on a t-shirt that was baggy on you but would fit him perfectly, a pair of boxers he left the last time he was here and sweatpants that would be good enough until his clothes were dry.

You stepped back into the bathroom, clothes in hand, and Jeff turned to look up at you. He had already cleaned himself off, water slowly draining from the tub as you helped him climb out. “Feel better?”

He nodded, reaching for the towels you had hanging off the edge of the tub and drying himself off. You set the clothes down, hands reaching to dry off his hair as he dressed himself. 

You knew it had to feel so much better to be in clean clothes, let alone something that wasn’t jeans and a hoodie riddled with filth. Jeff seemed content enough, but more than anything, he looked tired. Exhausted.

“Alright, time for bed.” The sun was just starting to set outside your window, thick orange light flooding through the curtains as Jeff followed you back into the bedroom. You wouldn’t be going to sleep for some time, but you were sure the killer would be out in minutes.

Pulling back the sheets of your bed, Jeff climbed in, body nearly giving out as soon as his weak body got under the warm covers. “I’ll let you rest, tell me if you need anythin-”

Jeff didn’t give you the chance, barely getting a foot away from the bed before he was dragging you in too. You smiled, his arms wrapping around your waist and throwing the covers over the two of you. “Aw man, you’re gonna get me sick-”

You couldn’t help but smile as Jeff delivered sickly sweet kisses across your cheeks, lying you both down as his arms caged you in, your head falling onto his shoulder. “Then I guess we’ll just have to be sick together then, baby.” You knew a sly smile would break out of him sooner or later.

You both relaxed into each other, wrapping the covers tight as the sun set slowly against the pretty snow. The fireplace still crackled in your living room, the whole house warm compared to the brutal cold Jeff had been forced into days before. 

Running your hands through his now-clean hair, Jeff groaned, practically purring when his eyes began to close, tight grip around your back faltering slightly as you realized the sinus meds were finally kicking in, that dazed look behind his expression. As if he wasn’t tired enough, this would have him knocked for the whole next day.

It didn’t matter to you, you’d be there tomorrow to cater to him too, taking care of the killer who rarely ever let himself go like this. 

Planting one last kiss on his jaw, you felt his chest slowly rise and fall, gentle snores dragging out underneath you. Leaning back, you grabbed the remote to your TV off the nightstand, turning some show you needed to catch up on with low volume. You realized you needed to relax too, the winter season having you run a mile a minute, so this would be a good excuse to worry about something other than your crazy life.

With one final tug on the back of your shirt, you let your own eyes close, the sun finally set as a pretty blanket of dark sky finally shown through the window.

“G’night [Y/N]…”

-

Jeff was there by your side when you became sick the week after, a terrible fever that wouldn't break no matter how many baths or rags he placed on your forehead.

He felt bad, sure, but he felt even better that he got to make fun of your terribly red face and nasty cough that he didn’t have to deal with anymore.

Even sick, you somehow managed to win every argument or put the killer back in his place. You made him repay his stupidness with healthy fast-food runs and kisses. He quickly learned to keep his mouth shut. 

In sickness and in health, you guess.

Ticci Toby ▸

Technically, Toby couldn’t feel the pain of being sick.

He never got the sting of a sore throat, or the ache behind your ears when you sneezed too much, or even the pounding head and body aches that kept people from getting up. No, he bragged about never being defeated by strep throat or the flu.

But what he did feel was the pressure, and the fatigue, and the awful way your stomach just refused to hold down any solids.

So, when it got so bad he couldn’t shove it aside anymore to complete another mission, he found himself knocking on your door.

And he was not happy about it.

“Toby, you have got to lie down.” You huffed, his limp arms in your hands as you tried and failed to drag him towards your bedroom. He was acting as if he couldn’t walk, feet glued to their respective spots in your kitchen. The brunette always played a little childish, but right now he was just being plain juvenile.

“Nah. I just swung by to gra- grab some food, there’s nothing good at th- the mansion.” Even as you held him, the boy still browsed your cabinets and pantry for snacks. You would have been more than happy to offer, but Toby had already eaten a bowl of your chili leftovers, two bags of chips, and was going for pastries next. It was like being sick turned him into a human vacuum.

“I know, but you’re freezing, hun. Your face is so red it looks like you’re going to explode. You need to get under some covers.” Toby could blame that on lying face-down in the snow for an hour, completely oblivious to the pin-pricking sharpness of the cold on his cheeks, or the frostbite that was forming at the edge of his nose. He never felt a thing, completely lost in the weightless blanket of powder underneath him. He would’ve stayed there another hour or two if Tim hadn’t jerked him up and yelled at him for being an idiot.

But now he was here, sick as a dog and getting harassed by his partner who was just trying to help. Tim was sick at the mansion, too. What luck.

“I’m fine. It’s just a co-cold or something. Quit baby- babying me.” Toby couldn’t tell if it was his tics or the uncontrollable shakiness in his hands, but he dropped a pack of crackers he’d fished out of your pantry. He groaned in frustration, crouching down to grab them, but you snatched the package up first.

“You’re not fine, Toby. You’re pale as a ghost, your voice is raspier than usual, and you can’t even hold onto a pack of crackers. Just let me help you.” You set the crackers on the counter and put your hands on your hips, glaring down at him. He glared right back, his dark eyes narrowed and defiant.

“Don’t ne- need help,” he muttered, though the stubborn edge in his voice faltered as another violent shiver racked his body. He clutched his arms around himself, but you could see how badly his fingers trembled. The eye-roll you delivered him could kill. 

“Yes, you do. Come on, Toby. Just this once, let me take care of you.” Your tone softened, and you crouched down so you were at eye level with him. “You’re not going to get better if you keep ignoring yourself like this.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours. For all his bravado, Toby wasn’t immune to the weight of your concern. You perceived the world differently than he did, concerned with the trivial things of sickness or relaxation, while the brunette hardly cared if his skin was rotting off (it was). Finally, with a heavy sigh, he muttered, “Fine. But only for a little while.”

“Thank you.” You stood and held out your hand to him. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Toby reluctantly took your hand, and you helped him to his feet. He leaned on you more than he probably realized, his steps unsteady as you guided him to your bedroom. Once there, you pulled back the blankets and helped him sit down on the edge of the bed. In the light of snow through your window, you really got a good look at just how pale he was, lips a subtle shade of purple that would’ve had any normal boy in a hospital.

You helped him shed his ragged jacket, kicking off his boots until he was in the barest clothes he had stumbled into your house with. 

“Alright, lie down,” you instructed, gently pushing on his shoulder. He grumbled something under his breath but complied, sinking into the mattress with a groan. You pulled the blankets up over him, tucking them around his shoulders.

“This is stu- stupid,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow. He was facedown, something so childish, like a kid upset his mom was making him go to school. 

“It’s not stupid. It’s called taking care of yourself,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Now, stay put. I’m going to get you some water and medicine.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes were already closed. You smiled softly, relief washing over you as you left the room. Finally, he was letting you help. Now all you had to do was nurse him back to health—and maybe convince him that it was okay to lean on someone else every once in a while.

-

The next few days were a blur of soup, medicine, and relentless efforts to keep Toby in bed. He protested at every turn, grumbling about how he didn’t need to be babied, but his body betrayed him. The fever left him weak and sluggish, his usual energy reduced to mere fragments of what it once was. After having to literally calm him down with a healthy dose of cough medicine, he finally stopped berating you.

“This is the worst,” Toby groaned, his voice hoarse as he sank deeper into the pile of blankets you’d tucked around him. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his cheeks were flushed from the lingering fever. What started as cold chills and sickly paleness had sprung into a hot mess of trying to break the fever the brunette wasn’t aware he had. Once his body actually laid down, got some medicine, and got under some warmth, it finally started trying to heal itself. The only good thing about this was his body was so busy trying not to combust that his tics were on the back burner. His muscles were so weak, they really didn’t hold the energy.

“You’re getting better,” you reassured him, sitting on the edge of the bed with a bowl of soup in your hands. “Here, eat this. You need to keep your strength up.”

He eyed the bowl with disdain but reluctantly took it from you. “You’re en- enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Enjoying what?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Bossing me around.” He smirked weakly, but it lacked his usual snarky bite.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin. “But only because it’s for your own good.”

Toby rolled his eyes but started eating the soup anyway. You watched him carefully, noting the way his hands shook less than they had the day before. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

By the third day, the fever broke. Toby woke up looking more like himself, his energy slowly returning. He still tried to downplay how sick he’d been, but you caught the gratitude in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Thanks,” he mumbled one evening, leaning against the doorway as you cleaned up the kitchen. He was wearing one of your hoodies, the sleeves too short for his arms, but all of his dirt-covered clothes were in the middle of a wash.

“For what?” you asked, turning to face him.

“For... y’know. Put- Putting up with me. Helping m- me.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on the floor. Even with sickness deteriorating, that pink still lingered in his pale cheeks. “I’m not good at this kind of stuff.”

“You don’t have to be,” you said softly, walking over to him. “That’s what I’m here for. Next time, don’t wait until you’re half-dead to ask for help, okay? One day you’re going to kill yourself just because you’re stubborn.”

He huffed a laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Impossible.”

“Toby.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll t- try.”

“Good.” You smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek, running your fingers across the scars that littered the skin. He cupped your hand, tired eyes roaming your features as he leaned in, pressing a firm kiss on your forehead. It was only when you reached up to ruffle his hair that he swatted your hand away, but your smile didn’t falter.

-

As the days went on, Toby fully recovered, though he still feined needing to stick around your house just to be sure. Your pantry was nearly run through, and every snack you had planned to eat mysteriously disappeared despite your boyfriend’s testimonials. But you didn’t mind. Seeing him back to his usual self was all the thanks you needed. He would be buying you more, though.

But knowing Toby, you weren’t holding your breath.

Tim Wright▸

The snow was relentless, blanketing the world outside in a thick, quiet stillness. 

Tim was a shadow against the swirling white, his broad shoulders hunched as he trudged up the path to your door. His steps were uneven, his breath visible in harsh puffs against the icy air, and it was clear he wasn’t in good shape. You barely managed to open the door before he stumbled inside, shaking the snow off his coat and muttering a half-hearted apology.

“Tim?” you gasped, reaching out to steady him. He was freezing to the touch, his skin pale and his lips tinged with blue. “You’re ice-cold. What are you doing out in this weather? You should’ve called me.”

“Didn’t want to bother you,” he grumbled, his voice rough and strained. He tried to wave you off, but his hands trembled as he shuffled his heavy jacket off. “I’m fine. Just need to get out of all that.” The Operator had shoved him and Brian too far, Masky and Hoodie nearly ready to saw off some heads if they had to spend one more night in the frigid snow. He knew he shouldn’t bother you, shouldn’t cross that line of his affairs and your relationship, but he knew he wouldn’t make it back to the mansion tonight.

“You are not fine,” you said firmly, taking his arm and guiding him toward the couch. “At least come inside and warm up.” You were still in your pajamas, on your way to bed when you heard the haphazard knocks on your door. 

Tim hesitated, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, but the weight of his exhaustion won out. He let you lead him, collapsing onto the cushions with a groan. The sight of him like this—so worn down and vulnerable—made your heart ache. Tim was always the strong one, the steady rock everyone leaned on, but now he looked utterly defeated.

You grabbed a blanket from the nearby chair and draped it over him, fussing despite his weak protests. “Stay put. I’ll get you something hot to drink.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, but his voice was softer this time, less convincing. He leaned back against the couch, his head tipping against the cushion as he closed his eyes. You hurried to the kitchen, boiling water for tea and pulling together a simple plate of muffins that took less than a minute to heat up in the microwave. You would make him a proper meal later, right now he just needed to get warm. When you returned, he hadn’t moved, his breathing shallow but steady. You set the tea down on the table in front of him and nudged his shoulder gently.

“Drink this,” you said. “It’ll help.”

Tim opened his eyes, glancing at the cup before taking it with a quiet disgust. He sipped the tea slowly, his large hands dwarfing the mug, and you sat beside him, watching him closely. He much preferred the bitter taste of coffee, but something warm in his stomach was better than nothing. After a few moments of silence, he sighed, his shoulders slumping further under the weight of the blanket.

“I’m sorry, love,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the steam rising from the tea. “I won’t stay long. You need to get back to bed.” 

“I’m alright,” you said softly, “I’ll kill you before that storm does if you make it out that door again.”

He didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the words. Finally, he set the mug down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I’m alright. I’ll rest for a while, then get out of your hair. I need to get back before they send someone after me.”

“That’s okay,” you said, placing a hand on his back. “You’ve got at least the rest of the night before someone comes looking. Nobody is trudging through this storm just to get you, hun. You need to relax. You deserve to be cared for, too.”

Tim let out a shaky breath, his hand scrubbing over his face. He knew there was no fighting it anyway, you held some power over him even he couldn’t figure out. Your sweet words and touches were enough to stop him from war, he thought. “I- Okay, just until morning.”

“Good,” you said, your voice gentle. “Now rest, you need it.”

Tim closed his eyes, the tension in his body slowly easing as he let himself relax. It hurt your heart to see him so defeated, but if it took sickness to finally get him to relax, then so be it. You sat beside him, keeping watch as the snow continued to fall outside, a quiet reminder that even as big and strong as Tim was, he was still just as vulnerable to the cold as anyone else.

-

As the hours passed, Tim drifted off into a hazy state of staring at the fireplace, his breathing rough and uneven. The man didn’t sleep—he never did—but right now you really wish he would. You stayed by his side though, curled up next to him and monitoring his every cold chill. 

You couldn’t help but feel a deep ache for him, seeing him like this—so worn down and fragile, yet still trying to be the strong, unbreakable as he always was. He let out a quiet groan as he shifted on the couch, his breath shallow, and for a moment, he barely seemed aware of his own discomfort. You were glad you had lit your fireplace hours before he arrived, the bright glow and gentle cracking of the logs under the flames, the heat radiating well enough to warm the whole house.

You gently touched his arm, trying to stir him from his restless half-awake daze. “Tim, you need medicine,” you said softly, your voice gentle yet firm. "You're burning up, and I need to make sure you don’t have a fever.”

Tim’s dark eyes blinked with confusion, and for a moment, he looked disoriented (meaning he was so far in the pits of his mind that there was no telling how disassociated he had become just from sitting here). The firelight danced on his tired face, casting soft shadows over the sharp lines of his features. “I’m fine,” he muttered hoarsely, but the words were weak, lacking the usual conviction. He barely had the strength to lift his head as he tried to wave you off. “I don’t need any medicine. Just a little rest.”

You frowned, your hand resting lightly on his forehead, the heat radiating from his skin like a warning. He was dangerously close to a fever, and no matter how much he fought it, he needed help. He just couldn’t see it. “I’m not asking,” you said softly, brushing back the damp strands of his hair. “A little rest won’t hold out.”

You wondered how Masky was taking the whole ordeal. You decided if his host was sick and weak, the alter probably wouldn’t want to front in such an unprefferable state. 

Tim didn’t argue this time, his eyes flickering with mental strain. He let out a small sigh as you stood and walked into your bathroom, the quiet sound of your movements a comfort to him in the midst of his foggy, feverish haze. You pulled out the small bottle of medicine from the cabinet, one you always kept stocked for moments like these—when he pushed himself too far, too hard, until his body couldn’t keep up with the strain. This wasn’t the first time he had stumbled into your home due to his ailments, and you were very sure it wouldn’t be the last.

You returned to the couch with the bottle and a glass of water, gently helping Tim sit up, his body unsteady as you supported him. His gaze met yours, conflicted, but he didn’t argue. You could see how much he wanted to be strong, to be the one taking care of everything, but right now, he needed someone to take care of him. And you were more than willing to be that person.

“Drink this,” you urged softly, holding the glass to his lips. “It’ll help bring your fever down. You’re not going anywhere until it does.”

He hesitated, eyes narrowing in that familiar stubborn way, but the trembling in his hands gave him away. With a heavy sigh, he took the glass from you and swallowed the medicine in a few quick gulps. He winced, but when he set the glass down, his gaze softened, a brief flicker of gratitude in his tired eyes.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. You smiled, brushing a gentle hand over his shoulder, offering the smallest of comforts as he settled back against the couch.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you replied quietly. “Just rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”

Tim’s lips parted as if he wanted to say more, but his exhaustion overtook him, his body sinking back into the softness of the cushions, his glazing over once more against the firelight. You didn’t need him to say anything. You could feel the weight of his gratitude, the trust he placed in you without saying a word.

You moved to the kitchen again. His body was still weak, but it needed fuel to help fight off the cold and the fever. You knew he wouldn’t ask for a meal, never would. But you also knew he needed it. You’d learned long ago that showing care was sometimes the quietest, most effective way to love him—through the meals you made, the medicine you administered, the silent acts of kindness that spoke louder than words ever could.

But, a bowl of soup would have to do for right now.

The smell of broth began to fill the house, a gentle, soothing scent that would help settle Tim’s stomach once he slowly phased back to reality. You checked on him every few minutes, ensuring he stayed warm, covering him with an extra blanket when you noticed him shiver. His breath was a little steadier now, the worst of the fever easing off, and the signs of his discomfort had lessened just enough for him to be able to relax. 

You made sure to brew a pot of fresh coffee, too. That breakfast brew he seemed to enjoy so much, the smell wafting through the house and silently altering the man. 

Finally, when the soup was ready, you returned to him, holding the bowl and mug in your hands and a small spoon at the ready. He looked up at you, his eyes soft, tired but grateful. You helped him sit up once more, this time offering him the warm, comforting food he needed to heal.

“You’ve got to eat something,” you said gently, pressing the spoon into his hand. “You need your strength.”

Tim took the spoon and scooped a small portion of the soup, eating slowly, savoring the warmth it brought to his cold body. Each spoonful was another step toward recovery, and with each one, he seemed to relax just a little bit more, the tension in his shoulders easing as he let you care for him. He took gentle sips of the coffee, the taste seeming to steady him better than the tea had earlier, the tension lines in his face finally evening out.

When the bowl was empty, you set it aside and brushed your fingers through his hair again, a tender gesture. “Better?”

He gave a small nod, his eyes now fully closed, his body finally beginning to give in to the warmth and the comfort you’d provided. He didn’t speak, but his hand found yours, gripping it loosely, a silent thanks for everything you had done.

“Need anything else?” You brushed his cheek, the stinging warmth still hot on his skin, but evidently cooler than it had been. He scanned your face for a moment, dark eyes roaming over features he had studied a thousand times, but finally had an answer.

“I’ve got a cig pack in my jacket…” The way his eyebrows twinged upwards gave you all the hint you needed, a small chuckle rising from his chest. You slid over to the door where he had discarded his jacket, rummaging through compartment pockets that held tool knives or bullet casings, but finally landing on the half-empty carton of cigarettes, his lighter tucked neatly inside. You picked out one, lighter in hand as you sat back on the couch.

Tim went to reach for the thing before you shook your head, holding the orange end to his lips with a small smile. He took the cig, your hand following and cupping over the end as you flicked his lighter to a spark, lighting the end. It smoldered, smoke slowly rising from the stick and into the air of your house. You would worry about the smell later.

A deep breath in and you could phsyically see the tension in his shoulders loosen.

This went on for the rest of the night, the slow rotation between cigarettes and refilled cups of coffee as you stayed by his side, arms latched around his own as your head rested on his shoulder.

He slowly shed the blankets, too, the sunlight break finally hitting over the horizon and filtering into your living room. By the time his fever was gone (broken in one night out of pure stubbornness), you were quietly snoring beside him, body curled up under his arm.

He took the time to carry you to your bedroom, slotting you under the covers with numerous gentle kisses across your cheeks. He cleaned the living room and kitchen, washing the bowl and mugs he had dirtied and sorting them away, making sure to tidy everything as the early hours of the morning rolled around. 

He was there to make you food when you finally woke up, returning every favor you had offered the night before. You found yourself at his side on the couch again, watching the snow in the daylight.

You stayed by his side, your presence a quiet promise that you would always be there to take care of him, just as he had always done for you.

In the warmth of your home, surrounded by the gentle sounds of his steady breathing and the comforting scent of the meal he had made, everything felt like it was exactly where it needed to be. You didn’t need words to say it—your love for each other was already in everything you did.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[zeroxxlhero]

Remembrance • Vi

Warnings: 18+ characters, reader is a sex worker, blowjobs, cowgirl, sub! Vi, dom! Reader, mentions of drinking, pitfighter! Vi era, saying someone else’s name during sex, praising, slight overstimulation, teasing, hair-pulling, angst, crying after sex, neither side truly has romantic feelings towards another, SEASON 2 SPOILERS

Pairings: (Vi x You), Mentioned (Vi x Caitlyn)

Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)

“Shit!” Vi’s voice cut through the low sounds of slurping and light choking, eyes staring down at the woman that was on her knees, mouth desperately sucking on her cock like it was going to run away. Her tight pants were only pulled down to get her dick free but it gave you enough room to work on her, servicing her just like every other night that she came in here.

There was another faint scar on her nose, her knuckles raw, red, and torn from the constant pounding of her fists against skin and muscle—using you as another outlet to forget the pain that invaded her heart. She had caught you when you were about to go home for the day, done with your shift, but she had came stumbling your way with the smell of alcohol trailing after her and the small wave of money in your direction. And honestly, she was probably one of the most decent partner you’ve had in your line of work.

A hiss left her mouth as she relinquished after the sought relief, hand flaring with pain as she tightened her first in your hair—silently pleading for you. Her greed was proving to be trouble because you already had half of her cock in your mouth with her tip on your tongue and stroked the rest with expert twists of your hand, repeatedly going up down, adjusting to breathe through your nose due to her larger size.

All she hears is the sound of your lips slurping her up and cock hitting the back of her throat, drool and pre-cum falling from your mouth. You works at Vi’s cock like your life depended on it, greedily sucking her down like you wanted to take her soul.

It's just an endless assault of pleasure, each sweet suckle sending shivers down her spine, just edging her closer and closer to the brink of lost sanity.

A curse pauses in Vi’s throat, replaced by a deep grunt as she grip your hair out of impatience, ready to fuck your throat until you abruptly pull away, leaving her cock throbbing, hard, hot, and exposed.

"Nuh-uh, big girl, I need ya' patience. Just lemme do what I do best." Your mouth wasn't off her dick for a few measly seconds before it was back on, swallowing her down like it was never a problem. But this time, you were using your throat to fuck/suck her cock, slamming down on the hot cavity and letting the tip touch the back of your throat.

"Fuck—," She urgently places a hand to the back of your head, prompting you to take more of her in. It made her skin crawl and shiver with such excitement, having an everlasting effect of keeping the fire in her heart burning.

You sank your mouth down to meet the base, gagging and choking as her tip rolled over a sensitive point of your tongue. The pace of your mouth fastens on her cock, sucking her down with an aggression that was all too familiar to Vi, having every intent on making her cum.

“Shit—" Vi groaned, hand suddenly squeezing around the roots of your hair in an accidental tug and sending sharp needles of arousal through you.

Then, her jaw tightened and her thighs tensed as thick ropes of cum shot out from her tip, covering your chest and chin with the white excess. Her grip slightly loosens on your hair and a guttural groan leaves her mouth, abdomen clenching and flexing as the waves hits her, hard. You’re staring up at her with those pretty eyes and she practically goes weak in the fucking knees, crippled by the expertise of your skills and the look of pure, filthy, lust in your eyes.

One more harsh wave and her shoulders slack, panting to catch her breath. She’s emptied a big load but her cock was still hard and you've still got plenty of energy left.

You crawled on top of Vi with impatience and straddled her cock, teasing her tip with your throbbing pussy before fully sinking yourself down with a soft moan. In this position, she was fully enveloped inside of you, pelvis meeting pelvis.

"Wait, gimme a—" Vi was barely able to get her words out before you began riding her, your pussy gripping her cock which made her throw her head back and groan into the room. Her thighs tensed with each bounce you made and a knot tightened in the belly of her stomach, still not used to your expertise and the shameless fact that you could have her at your complete mercy and fuck her mindless. It was so intense that your body slamming down hard was enough for her to feel the vibrations in her thighs, her hips stuttering as she handed over any semblance of control.

The sensation felt familiar and the one person that could make her feel this good was—

“Cait.” The name that left Vi’s mouth seemed to pull her from her trance, eyes snapping open and staring up at you with burning shame and apologetic silence, the lust burning through her dying out just a bit. Her grip fell from your hips and she sat up, eyes darting back and forth between you and anywhere else in the room, trying to find the words to apologize, “Shit, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

You interrupted her with a silencing finger to the lips, gently pushing her back down as she stared up at you with confusion and disbelief, trying to make sense of the anger that was absent from your eyes. It was only a comforting softness that made Vi’s chest squeeze and stomach churn with guilt.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re not the first to pull something like that. Care to tell me her name?” You move Vi’s hands back to your hips, settling them there with a firm grip despite her slight reluctance.

Vi hesitated for a second, lips open but no words leaving her mouth. She swallowed heavily and said the name: “Caitlyn.”

“Then you close those eyes and call for Caitlyn, okay? Say it as loud as you want to.”

Vi barely had the chance to fully register the seriousness of your words before you started moving again, bouncing on her lap with a more familiar, comforting passion.

But even with your given permission, it still didn’t feel right to Vi. Maybe because she was pondering how you really were feeling and the overwhelming guilt that gnawed at her but the constant bouncing of your ass against her hips kept drawing her out of those thoughts, letting them drift to the one person that was making her feel such a way and letting her imagination run rampant.

It was hard to do such a thing when the woman she wanted was on opposite sides but the buried memories of their time spent together rose to the surface, reminding her of everything that she missed. Her touch. Her smell. Her voice. The sight of her underneath Vi—her blue hair cascading over the bed as her face was buried into the sheets, those pretty moans leaving her mouth each time Vi thrusted into her as she watched her face contort with pleasure.

The sound of calling her name… it was all too much.

“Call my name, Vi. Say it.”

Her lips open to speak but she can only feel her voice catching in her throat, the burning sensation of reigniting feelings rising to the surface. Then, she said it, “Cait.”

It was a low whisper, nonexistent to the world outside of this room but it made the space feel that much more confined, the heat rising in the room tenfold and the guilt was slowly starting to ease away at Vi but it wasn’t fully going to disappear.

Then, almost following a visible command, Vi said it again, her breath coming out in a deep sigh. “Cait.”

You bounced on her harder in response to her obedience, feeling her fingers tighten back against your heated skin, watching her face contort with pleasure, anger, and all the things that came with complicated love, eyes shut as to imagine you as the very woman she was calling for.

“Cait, please…” Vi wasn’t much of a whiner. She grunted. She huffed. She groaned. But she rarely whined. And tonight was one of the rarer moments, a helping of fragile vulnerability due to your persistence and determination to make her feel lil she was out of this world.

She groaned as you rode her, unable to stop the moans from leaving her mouth. You spread your legs out further and leaned back, riding her dick as smoothly as your body could let you move. Her fingers were digging into your hips, shuddering each time you came down and your ass meeting her thighs.

Vi shivers and bucks when your ass meets her pelvis, losing herself to the imagination of her drifting love.

"I love you so much." Vi whispered to you, leaning up as her arms wrapped around your body, her head resting against your chest as she listened to your heartbeat. She took one of your nipples into her mouth, running her tongue over the flesh before clamping her teeth down. She sucked the nipple between her teeth, her grip on your body tightening when you rolled on her cock.

"You really are so amazing. You have no idea how much you drive me crazy..." she muttered, impatiently driving her hips into you in an aggressive manner, sweat forming at her hairline. She was just pushing your body with the rhythm of her thrusts and you followed, grinding harshly in her lap as you could feel your orgasm approaching.

Vi let out a loud grunt, her silent breathing turning into light groans and slurred curse words, shudders racking through her body as she got closer. She felt that burn bubble in her chest and her noises came out as choked as her emotions began to boil over, tears coming to her eyes.

"I'm so close, baby—I'm right there." Vi announced, mouth slacked open as she used the rest of her energy to pound into you.

You keep her close to your chest, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from ruining her delusions and distracting her from her train of hallucinating thoughts, letting her edge you towards your silent orgasm.

Vi curses to the high heavens as she came inside of you, hips jerking with each strong pulse that had hit her. Her hips burned and ached but she barely takes account to that pain, overwhelmed by the emotional turmoil that she was feeling. She can’t stop the first sob from slipping, holding you tightly as she cries into your chest, the wet droplets of angry, heartbroken, heavy tears hitting your skin. She holds you close like never before—like you were the one person that she really wanted it to be, crying and yearning for the woman she loves.

You stay silent in her lap, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her black and pink streaked head, listening to her as she spoke through her sobs. “I miss you. I miss you so fucking much.”

It was aching to hear and there was a genuine sadness in her voice, one that always stayed behind her eyes and was rarely shown to people.

“I love you, Caitlyn.”

Your heart aches for her and you could only hope that she could eventually reconnect with that love that she lost—but for now, you’d sit here and hold her tight, pretending to be the woman she truly loved for as long as she needed and letting her remember the love that they shared.

[maddragon15]

Obscenely late hermitaday day #23 & 25! - Impulse & Tango

Was this meant to be a simple cel shaded drawing on the 30th? Yeah, yeah it was lmao but somehow the power of fire excels at overtaking the rendering capabilities.

But since it's late I'll use this as excuse to ramble below about well, the headcanons and the process down yonder. Also there's variations.

(Also just realized that the compression is high with this one, please click on it to see the details pretty pleasee)

So! Let's talk about that haircut shall we? First off Tango's haircut is basically just me slapping my very neglected oc's haircut onto him lol. There's no function usage or any other lore about it, literally just I wanted to use that haircut more. But Miners and Crafters that's not all! The intensity of the flame actually has meaning believe it or not.

Since Tango in the headcanons is already a nether born blaze hybrid the redstone kinda didn't have an effect on him. This is because blazes produce glowstone which is a power source onto itself. He gets minor effects instead which is a mild (there's literally no other word) high, a intensified hair flame and a brighter eye night shine. Negative effects include mild joint & jaw pain, and a small localized headache behind the left eye.

I like to imagine that other blaze hybrids' hair flame aren't normally that intense, not white-hot heat but rather more red n orange hot similar to the flats. Mainly due to the fact that glowstone is not as powerful as redstone and it's also dependent on how strong a blaze is. Now imagine with me that blazes determine how strong each other are via the color they're emitting. Now remember the blaze boss Minecraft had a vote on to add or not to add? What if Tango is constantly mistaken as a high ranking blaze because of how intense his fire is and he doesn't get attacked a whole lot except for the few that want to challenge him. Meanwhile Tango is just highly infused with redstone like all the other redstoners and he doesn't know what's happening half time as seen by his terrified scream-laughs /hj

He's also semi modified with redstone for the pure purpose of comms just like the other redstoners minus mumbo. I also would've leaned into the steampunk aspect of this season but I figured I'd do a character sheet like etho for all of the redstoners and finalize the aspects on those.

Onto Impulse!

I like to imagine that Impulse was a regular human and over the course of redstone exposure he gained pointed ears and horns. For what reasons? I have no idea but redstone works in mysterious ways and mutates on whatever happens to be in their system. You may see that he has purple lines across his face but then red pupils, why is that? Well since he's cyperpunk themed this season he modified his redstone implants to be rgb. He can change everything else except his pupils because those are deeply affected by redstone and would require surgery to remove the build up of redstone. Will any of the redstoners ever actually get rid of it? No but you can beg all day.

You also might be wondering what's happening in their ears? Well those are the advanced comms that are actually used across all hermits except the ones who've opted out for glowstone variants. They kinda work like bluetooth except more hermit-magic way. I haven't had time to fully think of how it'd work down to the circuitry (that's my usual process for headcanons before I ship them out) but I'll post about it when I think of the full layout. Other design aspects on impulse are derived from his skin and the poster design by applestruda!

Process wise for this piece was kinda a rollercoaster heh. I had started this piece a while ago (can't remember the day on the dot) and then I got insanely busy during the last week of hermitaday. I had done sketch, refined sketch and flats in two days. Then events proceeded forth and we arrive on the 4th which I tried for an entire day to figure out how to render this piece. I then gave up and tried again the day after and pulled up references this round on Pinterest. Tango was surprisingly easy to paint with ref and went rather fast. I will admit the entire time I was rendering him I did say every minute or so "I love you man" because he was turning out so good. Halfway through I then realized I still had to render Impulse. That's when I pretty much ended that night because it was already 5 am working on Tango and demotivation was setting in fast. The next day I was able to continue with hesitancy on Impulse but I managed to keep on keeping on and in the early hours of today I finished up the piece. Where I'm now writing about it close to 2 pm in a restaurant. Man though it was kinda hard to make Impulse and Tango look like cohesive and as if they were painted together.

Enjoy!

(Side note I applied for inprint and if I am to be accepted this will be available along side the three different eefs I've drawn and doc.)

[genericpuff]

I'm sorry, but this should come as a shock to absolutely no one.

Just a little bit of 'insider info' (and by 'insider' I mean I was a part of the beta testing crew a few years ago) Webtoons has been messing with AI tools for years. You can literally play test that very same AI tool that I beta-tested here:

Mind you, this is just an AI Painter, similar to the Clip Studio Colorize tool, but it goes to show where WT's priorities are headed. I should mention, btw, that this tool is incredibly useless for anyone not creating a Korean-style webtoon, like you can deadass tell it was trained exclusively on the imports because it can't handle any skin tone outside of white (trying to use darker colors just translates as "shadows" to the program, meaning it'll just cast some fugly ass shadows over a white-toned character no matter how hard you try) and you just know the AI wouldn't know what to do with itself if you gave it an art style that didn't exactly match with the provided samples lmao

And let's be real, can we really expect the company that regularly exploits, underpays, and overworks its creators to give a damn about the ethical concerns of AI? They're gonna take the path of least resistance to make the most money possible.

So the fact that we're now seeing AI comics popping up on Webtoons left and right - and now, an actual "Webtoon AI" branding label - should come as zero shock to anyone. Webtoons is about quantity over quality and so AI is the natural progression of that.

So yeah, if you were looking for any sign to check out other platforms outside of Webtoons, this is it. Here are some of my own recommendations:

ComicFury - Independently run, zero ads, zero subscription costs (though I def recommend supporting them on Patreon if you're able), full control over site appearance, optional hosting for only the cost of the domain name, and best of all, strictly anti-AI. Not allowed, not even with proper labelling or disclosure. Full offense to the tech bro hacks, eat shit.

GlobalComix - Very polished hosting site that offers loads of monetization tools for creators without any exclusive contracts or subscriptions needed. They do offer a subscription program, but that's purely for reading the comics on the site that are exclusively behind paywalls. Not strictly anti-AI but does require in their ToS that AI comics be properly labelled and disclosed, whether they're made partially or fully with AI, to ensure transparency for readers who want to avoid AI comics.

Neocities - If you want to create your own site the good ole' fashioned way (i.e. HTML / CSS) this is the place. Independently run, offers a subscription plan for people who want more storage and bandwidth but it only costs $5/month so it's very inexpensive, and even without that subscription cost you won't have to deal with ads or corporate management bullshit.

Be safe out there pals, don't be afraid to set out into the unknown if it means protecting your work and keeping your control as a creator. Know your rights, know your power.

[burst-of-iridescent]

Personally Kat.aang looks bad to me because Aang gave his most lightest skinned child special treatment 💀 there were air acolytes who weren’t air benders themselves but were still dedicated to keeping the culture alive so leaving Kya and Bumi out on account of them not being air benders is absolute bullsh*t. You don’t see Zutara shippers calling Kat.aang shippers racist because of it 🤔

yeah see this is one of those things that again ties back to bry.ke being totally oblivious about the implications of what they were writing because the optics of the kat.aang family are… troubling, to put it nicely.

the darker-skinned woman is a waterbender. the lighter-skinned man is an airbender. the nonbender is conveniently in-between. their clothing all correspond strictly to their individual elements (except bumi who gets chucked to red for the audacity of not being born an airbender — at least till he conveniently turns into one). if you knew nothing of these characters you’d never know they were biracial at all.

which is just… so disappointing. part of the reason i love zutara is how the fandom handles the incorporation of both cultures, and yet bry.ke couldn’t even be bothered to do the bare fucking minimum of at least having the kat.aang kids in blue and yellow clothes. if you’re going to claim that a significant aspect of this new, postwar world is the increased cultural exchange across nations then the kat.aang family of all people should be emblematic of that change! but no, instead of taking the opportunity to actually delve into and depict the intricacies of a blended household, we might as well just stick to the same shit we’ve been doing since atla because why think of something new, right?

it’s even more troubling that within the strange cultural division of the ka kids, it’s katara’s culture that gets the shaft. tenzin’s entire family might as well be air nomads through and through, and while bumi and kya seem to have been intentionally excluded from air nomad culture through no fault of their own, they don’t seem to know (or care) any more about their swt heritage either. the natural conclusion to draw from that is evidently that katara’s culture just doesn’t matter as much as aang’s in their family, and that paints a very disturbing picture of how aang views his wife’s heritage (especially with the worldbuilding of atla portraying the air nomads as ‘spiritually pure’ in comparison to everyone else).

i have no patience for the common ka defense that aang is a survivor of genocide so his culture should take more priority because a) katara is also a genocide survivor, as ka stans are so fond of pointing out until it doesn’t work in their favour and b) why are we acting like cultural integration is some sort of zero sum game? tenzin, kya and bumi aren’t going to run out of space for their air nomad traditions and practices just because they know more about their swt background as well. there’s no arbitrary limit on how much you can learn of your heritage.

yes, i know bry.ke didn’t intend for the ka family to come across this way. but whether the implications were purposeful or not, they still exist, and it’s fucking galling that the fandom will call zutara and zutara shippers racist all while defending the shitty writing choices of two american white men — and then pat themselves on the back for being progressive, as if genuine activism means harassing real poc in the name of fictional ones.

[minamorsart]

Character sheets for an upcoming mini comic!!! Introducing new outfits, including Celeborn ✨

Explanation of design choices below!! Galadriel will not be wielding a sword in the comic, I just wanted to draw her in a cool pose :P

To start, I am definitely not as comfortable with drawing medieval armor/clothing as I am sci-fi, at least not yet! Much research needed! ✊😤 And though I am most certainly still a novice when it comes to character design, I tried to approach this from an animation standpoint and opt for more simplistic designs, as beautiful as the intricate wardrobes are in TROP.

For Sauron, I took inspiration from the armor he is shown wearing in the exposition scene at the beginning of S1E1, as well as his outfit in the S2 finale. He's properly converted back to the dark aesthetic, but hasn't quite reached cape level yet! So instead of a cape I gave him a drapey tunic similar to the red one he wears with his Númenor armor as Halbrand. And the gold accents could be seen as symbolizing his vanity, but at their foundation represent his ties to Galadriel and him coveting her light.

For Galadriel I was inspired by her silver outfit in season 2, as well as Legolas's outfit in The Two Towers. I wanted to bulk her up with the shoulder armor, while still hopefully maintaining her femininity. I'm keeping the silver aesthetic because I think it really suits her, but I also added darker colors to her clothes to indicate that she is being more and more influenced and tempted by the darkness. So we can see that with the golds on Sauron and the dark grays on Galadriel, they are always on each other's minds ;)

Lastly, for Celeborn there was a lot more planning needed for his design! The most important thing was that, purely from a character design standpoint, I didn't want him to look like Sauron. Though Sauron is fair and beautiful, to me he should still have rugged features because of his apprenticeship with Aulë and his skills as a blacksmith. He's a Maia who works with his hands, and I wanted that to come through in his design. This means a more square and sharper face (to hopefully match Charlie Vickers' face shape), tanner skin, and a bulkier build.

In contrast, though I don't know much about Celeborn, I do know that he is a prince, which probably means he doesn't have the need to labor or work with his hands. Therefore I gave him paler skin, longer hair, and a slender build, as well as a longer and pointier face to lean into the Elf aesthetic. I don't want him to look extremely identical to Galadriel, either, so I gave him even blonder hair, almost white compared to her gold. And though I want him to look differently enough from Galadriel so that they don't look like siblings, I'm also fine with them sharing some similar characteristics. This shows that on the surface they would appear to have a lot in common and therefore are perfect for each other, being a prince and princess and all, but of course we know that that is actually a very different story ;)

[pixiefelixie]

𓆝..°°𓈒 ⋆ (필릭스) : REMEMBER THIS SUMMER "MONDAY"

𓆉 °°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ synopsis felix is living the summer every teenager dreams of, with a perfect beach house on the east coast of australia and an even more perfect girlfriend. by taking the best of both worlds, felix invites her to experience the world he grew up in to make this the best summer ever. amidst bonfires, romantic sunsets, and seagulls, felix has one goal this summer: to finally tell her he loves her. with just one week to do so, felix is met with a challenge to make his feelings known before time runs out. 

pairing: nonidol!felix x fem!reader, series warnings: felix + reader are intended to be 17-18, established relationship, fluff, underaged drinking at a bonfire/party, use of "chink" please read below, borderline violence due to influence under alcohol, suggestive (making out for the first time) important notes: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior, especially among minors, that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction. This work includes the use of a racial slur, which is solely included for the purpose of the story and to reflect certain character dynamics or societal issues. It does not represent my personal views or beliefs, nor does it come from the characters of Felix or the reader. As an Asian author, I approach this topic with sensitivity and awareness. The inclusion of such language is not intended to perpetuate harm but rather to portray the realities faced by marginalized communities. Reader discretion is advised.

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chapter under the cut! ~11k words

the next morning, you woke up in the guest room you were staying in, the sun beaming through the large windows. the room was bathed in a warm, golden light, making the white walls and light blue accents glow softly. you could hear the faint sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore in the distance and the air was filled with the fresh scent of morning dew.

you sat up and looked at your phone for the time. it was still early, but the sun was making its presence known. you plopped back down, and after a few moments of basking in the morning light, you decided to get up. slipping on your fluffy slippers, you headed out of your room to freshen up.

a quick rinse of your face, a good teeth brushing, and a refreshing shower later, you felt fully awake. you brushed through your still-damp hair, deciding to leave it to dry naturally. the humid summer air always seemed to coax out the soft waves in your hair. besides, you loved the effortless look the season gave you—tanned skin from those first few weeks of summer, a natural glow that didn’t need much enhancement.

you curled your lashes, swiped on a bit of tinted lip balm, and stepped back to check the mirror. that was all you needed. summer was kind like that: minimal effort, maximum payoff. your skin had that sun-kissed warmth, and your hair had a life of its own, perfectly undone in a way you couldn’t replicate any other time of year. you smiled at yourself, satisfied, and headed out to see where the morning would take you.

once you got back to your room, you rummaged through your suitcase and picked out an outfit: a pair of frayed denim shorts and a flowy floral top with soft pink and yellow hues. the combo was light, breezy, and perfect for the warm day ahead. just as you were putting your necklace on, a knock sounded at the door.

"come in," you called.

the door creaked open to reveal felix, and you had to bite back a laugh. his hair was a complete disaster—wild tufts sticking up every which way, as if he'd had an argument with his pillow all night and lost. he stood there, bleary-eyed, wearing nothing but a pair of red plaid pajama pants slung low on his hips. his chest rose and fell with the kind of lazy rhythm that only came with someone who wasn’t fully awake yet. his squinting eyes barely adjusted to the golden morning light streaming in from your windows.

"look at you!" you teased, unable to resist pulling out your phone and snapping a quick picture of his morning look.

felix groaned dramatically, running a hand through his already messy hair in a failed attempt to tame it. "why are you like this?" he mumbled, shuffling across the room like a grumpy toddler before collapsing face-first onto your bed. "can i sleep here?" he muttered into your pillow, his voice muffled.

you perched on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of damp hair behind your ear. "what's wrong?"

"a pigeon keeps pecking at my window," he grumbled, dragging your blanket over his bare shoulders like a makeshift cocoon.

"a pigeon?" you repeated, already laughing.

"seagull, same thing," he muttered sleepily, burrowing deeper into the covers like he was trying to merge with your bed. after a moment, he inhaled deeply and let out a content sigh. "and the bed smells like you," he said softly, his hand reaching out blindly until it found yours. he gave it a light squeeze before letting his arm fall limply back onto the mattress.

your chest tightened at the sweetness of it. smiling, you reached out to brush his hair, the strands soft between your fingers despite the chaos. "my mom wanted us to get bagels this morning," he said, his face still buried in your pillow. "they only have the good ones in the morning," he mumbled, the words barely decipherable but completely serious, like he was delivering some sacred bagel truth.

"then we better go," you said, laughing softly.

felix groaned again, this time flipping over onto his back, the blanket now tangled around his waist. he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "not yet," he murmured, his voice low and rough with sleep. “come on, lay with me for a minute," he said, patting the empty spot beside him.

"felix," you said, rolling your eyes.

he waved a dismissive hand, his biceps flexing ever so slightly. "my mom will survive. it’s not like they’re gonna run out in the next five minutes." his smirk widened as his eyes flicked over to you. "seriously, come here. the bed’s big enough, and i’m a fantastic pillow. multi-purpose, really."

you crossed your arms, arching a brow. "you’re ridiculous."

"just for a minute,” he stretched his arms over his head, showing just enough of his abs to make it clear he wasn’t playing fair. "the bed’s warm. and you’re cold."

"i’m not cold," you said, shaking your head as you grabbed a pillow and lightly smacked it against his chest. "get moving, felix," you shot back, already heading toward the door before he could say anything else to make your face heat up.

as you neared the dock of his family’s beach, the sight of their boat came into view. it was a sleek, white vessel with blue trim, bobbing gently in the water. felix led the way, his hand still holding yours, guiding you with ease.

“i got you,” he said, stepping onto the boat first, the wood creaking slightly under his weight. he turned back, extending a hand to you. you took it, feeling the strength of his grip as you jumped in, the boat rocking slightly once again.

felix helped you steady yourself, and guided you to a seat beside him as he made his way to the helm. the boat’s interior was polished and tidy, with cushioned seats and a small table in the centre. you sat down, feeling the coolness of the white leather seat beneath you.

he started the engine, the low hum of the motor blending with the sounds of the sea. the boat began to glide smoothly across the water, the wind whipping through your hair. you watched as felix expertly maneuvered the boat, his hands steady on the wheel. the sun reflected off the water, casting shimmering patterns on the boat’s deck.

felix turned to you with a smile, his eyes sparkling with excitement. you couldn’t help but smile back, the wind tugging at your hair and filling your lungs with the salty scent of the sea. his goofy side always comes out when he was driving the boat. he leaned into the turns with exaggerated movements, pretending to be a race car driver.

“hold on tight!” felix shouted, his voice barely audible over the rush of wind and waves. he accelerated, the boat picking up speed and bouncing over the water. you grabbed the edge of your seat, as he sent sprays of water into the air, the droplets sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight.

“having fun?” he called out, but his words were lost in the wind. you furrowed your brow, unable to hear him clearly.

“what?” you shouted back, leaning in to try and catch his words. he repeated himself, but the wind still swallowed his voice. determined to understand, you moved closer, bringing your face just inches from his. felix laughed at your proximity, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

before you could ask again, he couldn't help but take that chance to kiss you, his lips warm and firm against yours. you pulled back with a grin, playfully swatting his arm. “focus!” you said, laughing.

felix chuckled, his eyes never leaving the water as he steadied the boat. “i asked if you're having fun,” he repeated, louder this time.

“yeah!” you replied, your voice just as loud to compete with the wind. felix gave a satisfied nod, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint.

without thinking twice, you jumped up from your seat and made your way to the open area in the bow of the boat. felix watched with amusement as you raised your hands in the air and let out a loud "whoo!" that echoed across the ocean.

the wind tousled your hair as you embraced the thrill of the moment, the salty breeze tingling against your skin. as you passed by another boat, its wake created a larger wave, causing you to squeal in surprise. you stumbled slightly as the boat rocked, testing your balance and felix's laughter bubbled up as he saw you teeter for a moment, but you managed to steady yourself, grinning widely despite the near slip.

you then reached into your pocket and pulled out your trusty digital camera. with a mischievous grin, you skipped back to felix and aimed the camera backwards towards both of you.

you pressed a kiss to felix's cheek for the photo and he posed with a big beaming smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, captured in the frame. as you lowered the camera and looked back at the photo on the small screen, a gasp escaped your lips which felix could easily guess meant you were happy with it.

as you looked up from the camera, the harbour came into view like something out of a postcard. rows of boats rocked gently in the sparkling blue water, their masts swaying in time with the soft waves. the docks were lined with weathered wooden planks, and colourful flags fluttered in the breeze, adding splashes of vibrant reds, yellows, and blues to the scene. small pastel-painted shops and cozy waterfront cafés dotted the shoreline, their signs advertising fresh seafood, ice cream, and souvenirs. overhead, seagulls circled lazily, their sharp cries blending with the hum of conversation and the occasional bark of a distant dog.

felix eased the boat to a slower pace, the engine's hum softening as he steered with practiced precision. his hand rested on the wheel, his posture relaxed yet focused. he glanced over at you, the corners of his lips tugging into a small, confident smile. “alright,” he said, gesturing towards the front of the boat. “you see the anchor up at the bow?”

your eyes followed his motion, spotting the anchor coiled neatly near the edge. “mmhm,” you said with a nod.

“i want you to grab it and take it to the edge. when i say ‘drop it,’ you let it go slow. don’t just chuck it, alright? you want it to catch, not tangle.”

“yes sir,” you said, suppressing a grin at his serious tone.

with careful steps, you moved to the bow, the anchor feeling heavier than you expected as you lifted it. felix slowed the boat further, adjusting the wheel slightly as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were ready. “alright, now. lower it nice and steady.”

you crouched down and eased the anchor into the water, feeling its weight pull gently against your grip as the chain unraveled. the boat gave a soft tug as the anchor caught, settling it into place. “great job,” felix said from behind you, his tone warm. “now come back here.”

as you returned to your seat, felix hopped out of the boat with effortless ease, the dock creaking softly under his weight. he bent down and grabbed the rope, securing it to a nearby cleat with a twist and loop. straightening up, he looked back at you and extended a hand. “your turn,” he said, his voice teasing. “come on, before you fall in and i have to fish you out.”

“funny,” you muttered, rolling your eyes and taking his hand. his grip was strong but careful as he helped you step onto the dock, your feet finding the sturdy planks beneath you.

“nice, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing around with an easy grin. the sun caught on the streaks of gold in his hair, and his eyes reflected the deep blue of the water.

“it’s beautiful,” you replied softly, taking in the bustling harbour again. the air was alive with the sound of children laughing and the clinking of glasses from a nearby café patio. a pair of kids ran past you, their flip-flops slapping against the wood, and you couldn’t help but smile at the carefree energy of it all.

felix gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his touch grounding. “come on,” he said, leading you down the dock with a laid-back confidence, his fingers still loosely intertwined with yours. as the two of you walked, the scent of saltwater mingled with the tempting aroma of fresh bread and coffee, making you feel like you’d stepped into a perfect summer day.

as you continued walking along the dock, the bagel shop came into view, a quaint little place with a sea blue and white striped awning that fluttered gently in the breeze. the windows were adorned with hand-painted signs advertising fresh bagels, coffee, and house-made spreads. the aroma of freshly baked bread spilled into the street, mingling with the salty tang of the ocean air.

the inside of the shop was just as charming as the outside. rustic wooden tables were scattered around, their surfaces polished smooth from years of use. a chalkboard menu hung above the counter, listing the day’s offerings in looping white script. the display case beneath it was packed with three types of bagels—everything, blueberry, and cinnamon raisin—alongside trays of pastries glistening with sugar glazes and bowls of spreads.

the place wasn’t busy yet, so you and felix went straight up to the counter. behind it stood a girl about your age, her blonde hair pulled into a neat braid that highlighted her delicate features. when her eyes landed on your boyfriend, they lit up like fireworks, her entire face breaking into a radiant smile.

“oh my gosh, is that felix?” she exclaimed, her voice carrying a bubbly excitement that seemed to fill the shop.

felix offered her a polite smile as he replied, “good day.”

the girl leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on the counter as she beamed at him. “when did you get in?” she asked, her enthusiasm unmistakable.

“we drove down yesterday morning,” felix said, glancing at the menu.

“wow, it’s so good to have you back!” she gushed, her words tumbling out like she couldn’t get them fast enough. 

“how’s the store been this summer?” he asked.

“busy, busy, like every year,” she replied. “you know how it gets when the tourists roll in. but it’s been good. we’ve had a lot of regulars come in lately, which is nice.”

“nice,” felix nodded, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the counter. 

she paused for a second, glancing toward the sea. “there’s a new pastry shop that just opened up a couple of streets over,” she said, her expression turning a little more serious. “they’re getting a lot of attention, to be honest. the line’s been out the door every morning, and i’m not sure what’s drawing people in, but they’re definitely pulling a crowd.”

felix raised an eyebrow. “sheesh,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “competition getting fierce, huh?”

“yeah,” she said with a half-smile, but there was a glimmer of pride in her eyes. “i mean, it’s good for the neighborhood, right? more foot traffic, more people coming through. but it does make things interesting, that’s for sure.”

felix laughed softly, leaning back a little. “i get that.” he shrugged.

“we try our best to keep the locals happy. you know, there’s gonna be a bonfire tonight a couple hundred metres from your house. i still remember how much you and chris loved them last year.” she smiled at the memory, her tone softening just a bit. “how is he, by the way?”

chris had been felix's family friend since they were toddlers, and you knew him as an incredibly nice guy. felix often told you stories about how he used to think chris and his friends were so much older and cooler. even when felix was still in elementary school and chris had already entered secondary school, he often invited felix to hang out with him. there was always a hint of admiration in felix’s voice when he talked about those days, like chris had been more of an older brother than just a friend.

“he’s doing great,” felix replied with an easy grin, leaning his elbow on the counter. “i don’t think he’s coming this year, though. he’s off to college this fall, so he’s had a lot going on.”

“that’s a shame,” she said, her expression faltering for just a second before brightening again. “but you could bring…” her gaze slid to you, the pause deliberate.

felix didn’t miss a beat. “of course,” he said smoothly, stating your name like it was the most natural thing in the world.

her smile stayed in place, but her eyes flicked over you quickly, assessing. there was something in her look—friendly, but maybe a touch too curious. “great. i hope you both can make it,” she said, her tone as cheerful as ever.

“we’ll see,” felix replied noncommittally, already turning his attention to the bagels. “can we get a dozen, please?”

“sure thing,” she said, tapping the order into the register. “anything else?”

“that’s all,” felix said, pulling out his wallet and handing over a crisp bill.

“coming right up,” she chirped, flashing another bright smile before moving to prepare the order.

as she turned away, felix rested his hand lightly on your back, the warmth of his palm steady and grounding. “let’s go over here,” he murmured, steering you toward a quiet spot by the window. 

felix leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a quieter tone, the teasing edge softening just a little. "can i be honest with you?" he asked, his eyes locking with yours in that way that made your pulse quicken. you nodded, the corners of your lips lifting in curiosity, wondering where this was going.

his hand brushed over his face, clearly hesitant. "i… i did not know her name," he confessed, his voice laced with embarrassment.

you blinked, trying to make sense of it. "wait—what?" you laughed, a little incredulous. "are you serious right now?"

"i’m not joking!" felix said with a self-deprecating laugh. "i’ve always just called her 'the bagel girl,'" he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of disbelief, as if it was still a bit ridiculous to him. "and it wasn’t even that i didn’t care enough to remember her name," he added quickly, his face turning a little red. "it’s just... i don’t know if it never came up."

you raised an eyebrow, the wheels turning in your mind. "so, how come she knows your name?" you asked, a little amused. "it must have come up before.?"

felix shifted uncomfortably, his hands slipping into his pockets. "well," he began, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze, "last year my friend told me she was into me, and i guess she figured it out from, you know, caring so much." he smirked.

"no wonder you were so flirty just then," you teased, leaning in slightly with a playful grin. "you definitely wanted her to eat it up, didn’t you? you dick."

felix immediately turned red, and his eyes widened in offense. "i did not!" he protested, throwing his hands up as if to defend his honor.

you laughed, nudging him. "it’s normal, felix. we’ve all done it before." you said.

felix let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back a little. "believe what you want," he said with a casual shrug, but there was still that teasing glint in his eye. "i was just being felix. nothing more to it."

still, you decided to piss him off further. "i don’t blame you though," you said, crossing your arms. "i mean, if i knew a girl like that liked me, i’d probably do the same."

felix’s face flushed deeper, and he opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. his voice dropped, almost uncertain. "i... i don’t..." he stuttered, trying to find the words to explain himself but failing. he wanted to deny it, to say something flippant like he always did, but something felt different now. he wanted to tell you that you were the only girl he found strikingly beautiful, that no one else had made him feel the way you did. but something inside him held back, just like it had last night.

“you know,” he started, his voice more serious now, “i’m not saying this to brag or anything…” he glanced at you, making sure you were listening. “but this is what it was like last year,” he said, a small sigh escaping his lips. “it’s like... after i got abs, everyone suddenly noticed me.”

you raised an eyebrow, your tone light but curious. “interesting,” you said.

"before, it was chris and felix. like i was always following him around," he continued, his voice softer now, almost as if he were thinking out loud. "he was always the older one, the one everyone knew first. and then, last year, it was like people just realized i was there. like i had always been welcomed, but suddenly i wasn’t just chris’s little buddy anymore. people started looking at me differently. it was... strange.”

he shrugged, a small, almost self-deprecating smile playing at the corners of his lips, but there was a hint of uncertainty behind his words. "i guess that’s just how things go. i didn't really know how to handle it at first. it felt kind of weird, like i didn't belong in the spotlight, you know?"

the silence between you stretched for a moment as you processed his words. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the hesitation that lingered around his smile. it was rare for him to open up like this, and it felt like he was finally letting you see a side of him that wasn’t just the teasing felix you usually saw.

"i get that," you said, in an attempt to comfort him. "you don’t want to feel like you’re getting noticed because you’ve grown or look better. it’s hard when everyone suddenly sees you differently." you placed a hand gently on his arm, offering him a comforting squeeze. "but you’re more than that. you always have been. and people should notice you for who you are, not just how you look."

felix looked down at the ground for a moment, then met your gaze, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "yeah," he murmured, his voice soft. "i guess that’s why you’re special." he let out a quiet chuckle, his eyes twinkling as he crinkled his nose. "you first started liking me—back in physics, right? i mean, come on, keep in mind i had a full shirt on." he grinned, his tone teasing but affectionate. “that’s gotta mean something." he added the last part with a playful smirk.

"i think it was your charm and persuasion," you said with a teasing smile. "you always tricked me into thinking you knew what you were talking about, when you had no idea."

felix raised an eyebrow, a grin creeping back onto his face. "you're right," he admitted with a dramatic sigh. "physics was definitely not my strong suit."

you laughed, nodding knowingly. "whenever i’d ask you for help, you’d give these long-winded answers and sound so confident, but i could always tell you were just making it up."

felix groaned, dropping his head back dramatically. "stop," he whined, looking up at you with an exaggerated pout. "i just really liked you, okay?"

you smiled softly, nodding as you met his gaze. "i did too," you admitted, your voice quiet but sincere. "you were always so...felix. and even when you didn’t have all the answers, you somehow made everything feel like it was gonna be okay." the sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter. "but i should say, though, the summer crowd does get a view," you teased.

felix's breath hitched as your fingers toyed with the bottom hem of his shirt, the soft fabric slipping between your fingertips. his usual cocky confidence was slipping, and for a moment, you could see the rawness in his expression. he desperately wanted to stay calm but you had him completely off balance. his eyes darted between your hand and your face, but the words didn't come easily. he was so close now, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, like he was trying to contain the tension building between you.

you looked up at him, your eyes locking. in that moment, there was no pretending, no distractions. felix’s mind was clearly racing—she’s killing me—you could practically hear it. his gaze lingered on your lips, the smallest hesitation before his eyes met yours again.

“so,” he began, his voice hushed, almost strained. “about that bonfire…”

he trailed off, his words barely more than a whisper, and you could tell he was using it as a distraction. but it didn’t work. felix leaned in just a fraction closer, his body drawn to you like a magnet, but stopping him right before he closed the distance.

“i’m up for it unless you have anything else planned,” you said, your voice light but with an edge. your fingers still brushed over the collar of his shirt, teasing, the touch barely there but enough to keep him riled up. “i’ll go wherever you go,” you murmured. you saw the way his pupils dilated, the shift in his expression that told you everything you needed to know. he was losing the battle.

“oh yeah?” felix whispered, his voice low and husky now. he leaned in slightly, just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. he was dangerously close now, his lips just centimeters from yours.

but just as your eyes fluttered closed, just as you both inched forward—bam—the sound of a cheerful voice broke the spell, slicing through the electric air between you two.

“here you go!” the bagel girl’s voice rang out, sweet and carefree, as she reappeared with your order in hand. "a dozen, just as you ordered!"

felix froze, his eyes snapping open, and breaking whatever spell you put him under just now. he turned to the bagel girl with a grateful smile, though his expression was a little less natural now. "thanks a lot," he said, the words sounding a little rushed. "we’ll see you tonight."

you stood there for a moment, fighting the smirk that wanted to creep onto your face. felix rubbed the back of his neck, still visibly affected, and shot you a quick, sheepish glance.

day 2 - 22:00

"one... two... three..." you muttered, shifting your weight as you adjusted your angle with each count. you had to lean back just enough to get a better view of the bird's nest on the rooftop, but the night sky above made everything appear blurry and shadowed. the darkness seemed to swallow up the delicate nest, making it harder to see than you'd expected. "they're all here!" you exclaimed with a sigh of relief, your heart settling as you spotted the large eggs nestled safely inside the woven twigs. "now, please put me down."

felix let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and familiar. he crouched down slightly, slowly lowering you until your feet touched the ground. "my parents should be done packing and ready to leave by now," he said, brushing his hands off and standing up straight with a satisfied stretch.

"let's go say goodbye," you replied, taking his hand in yours. the cool night air had a quiet stillness, and the weight of the moment seemed to settle over you as you gently pulled him toward the house, your fingers laced tightly with his.

inside, the house was bustling in a quiet sort of way. the living room was dotted with two carefully packed suitcases, bags filled with travel essentials, and little signs of the last-minute preparations that always seemed to rush by. felix's mom stood by the couch, smoothing out a stack of clothing, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. she looked up as you entered, her face lighting up with a smile that was soft and welcoming. "there you two are! did you have a good time outside?" she asked, her voice gentle as always.

"yeah, we did," felix replied with a grin, giving your hand a soft squeeze. "all the baby birds are accounted for."

"that's wonderful," his mom said, her eyes sparkling with that ever-present twinkle of fondness. "you know, we’re getting a lot of crows this season. they’ve been very active around here."

felix's dad, who had been checking something on his phone, looked up and raised an eyebrow. "they might go after those gull eggs you two are so interested in," he warned with a playful glint in his eyes. "watch out for them, they like to come out in the rain."

felix’s mom smiled, shaking her head as she gave him a small push. "we should stop scaring them, dear," she said with a soft laugh. "we have a flight to catch."

you smiled warmly at them both, feeling the pang of saying goodbye. "have a fantastic trip!" you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth.

felix’s mom pulled you into a tight, affectionate hug, the kind that felt like home. "thank you," she said softly, kissing the top of your head before pulling back. "take care of each other while we're gone.” she then looked at her son and pulled him into a hug with felix’s dad.

"thanks for trusting me," felix said.

his mom responded first, her voice warm and reassuring as she gave him a tight squeeze. "we love you," she said.

felix’s dad clapped him on the back firmly. he leaned in, his voice low and meant only for his son. “she’s great, felix,” he said. “i’m proud of you.”

you didn’t catch the words, choosing to hang back near the door, giving them their moment. felix didn’t respond right away, but you caught the soft smile that crept onto his face, the way his eyes seemed to brighten just slightly as he held the hug a little longer. "i know," he murmured back, his voice quiet but sure.

finally, they pulled apart. felix’s dad adjusted his coat, clearing his throat as if to steady himself. “the house is stocked up,” he said in a firmer voice, slipping back into his practical role. “but make sure to buy whatever you need from the market.”

“thank you, dad,” felix replied, his smile now playful and easy again. “we’ll be fine.”

with one last round of hugs and warm smiles, his parents picked up their luggage and headed toward the door. you and felix followed, standing in the entryway as they wheeled their suitcases down the front steps. the yellow taxi idled at the curb, its engine humming softly in the night. his parents exchanged a few final words before the driver helped them load their bags into the trunk.

you and felix stayed on the porch as the taxi pulled away, its red tail lights glowing faintly against the darkened road. the engine hummed louder as it sped up, then grew quieter, the car shrinking into the distance until it disappeared around the corner. the stillness it left behind felt almost too big, wrapping around the two of you in the silence of the night.

felix exhaled, a sound that was part sigh, part laugh, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. he glanced at you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before a small, genuine smile curved his lips. "well," he said, his voice light, though you could still hear the lingering weight of the goodbye, "guess it’s just us now."

you didn’t answer, your eyes still fixed on the spot where the taxi had disappeared. the quiet around you felt heavy, like the world had gone still and was waiting for something to happen. your chest felt tight, your mind replaying the moment felix’s dad had mentioned the crows. you knew it had been a harmless comment, maybe even a joke, but the thought of the birds... it clung to you.

felix tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he studied your face. “you okay?” he asked softly, breaking the silence. he reached out, his hand warm and steady as it rested lightly on yours.

you blinked, realizing you hadn’t moved, your fingers stiff and cold in his. “me? yeah,” you said, your voice a little too quick, a little too high. “um… i’m just a little shaken up.”

felix didn’t pull back, his hand staying where it was, grounding you. “by what?” he asked, his voice calm and patient, like he had all the time in the world for your answer.

you hesitated, feeling a little ridiculous now that you had to say it out loud. “the crows,” you admitted finally, your words barely above a whisper.

felix blinked in surprise before his lips quirked into a crooked smile. “yeah, crows. guess we’ll just have to keep an eye out for them, huh?”

“yeah,” you said quietly, your lips twitching into a faint smile. the tension in your shoulders eased slightly, and you glanced at him, grateful for his calm presence. “should we go?”

“bagel girl said it’s walking distance from here. i’ve got a pretty good idea where it is,” he replied, as he stepped toward the edge of the porch.

you followed him, the soft creak of the old wooden boards beneath your feet breaking the quiet of the night. the porch light flickered slightly, casting a warm but uneven glow over the small front yard. felix hopped down the steps first, his sneakers crunching softly against the gravel path that led to the street. then you stepped off the porch, your sandals scuffing against the gravel as you caught up to felix.

as you walked, the tranquil stillness of the evening began to shift. at first, it was barely noticeable—a faint vibration beneath your feet that made you pause for a moment, thinking it might just be the rhythm of your own footsteps. but then, as you continued, the sound grew louder, more distinct. the soft thudding transformed into a steady, rhythmic beat, resonating in your chest like the pulse of something alive.

“do you hear that?” you asked, squeezing felix’s hand lightly as you looked up at him.

he nodded, his eyes glinting with curiosity, and a grin spread across his face. “yeah. sounds like we’re close.”

the further you walked, the more the sound surrounded you, enveloping the quiet of the night. the bass grew stronger, its deep thrum underscored by the hum of voices and the occasional burst of laughter. the noise wasn’t chaotic; it was inviting, like a lure calling you forward.

turning a corner, the source of the sound finally came into view. a large bonfire burned brightly in the center of a clearing, its golden flames licking up toward the dark sky. the fire cast flickering shadows over the faces of the crowd gathered around it, making their features seem almost otherworldly in the dancing light. warmth radiated outward, pushing back the coolness of the night and wrapping around you like an embrace.

the scent of burning wood filled the air, mingling with the briny tang of the sea breeze that drifted in from somewhere close by. waves crashed faintly in the distance, their rhythm syncing with the beat of the music. strings of fairy lights were strung haphazardly between trees, their soft glow adding a touch of magic to the scene. laughter rippled through the group as someone poked at the fire with a long stick, sending sparks spiraling upward like tiny, golden fireworks.

as you approached, your attention was drawn to a guy frantically wrestling with a beer keg near the edge of the crowd. he was conventionally attractive, you would say. dirty blonde with blue eyes, tall, and tan, definitely not your type but he could 100% be a heartthrob back at school in sydney. the poor guy was losing a battle against the tap, beer squirting out in all directions as his hands slipped against the slick surface. his muttering, a mix of frustration and colorful language, carried over the music. every few seconds, he’d glance around like he was hoping someone—anyone—would step in to help.

you couldn’t help it—you turned to felix, stifling a laugh behind your hand. the sight was just too funny. “do you see that?”

felix followed your gaze and grinned, shaking his head. “that’s griffin sanders. he’s a total dumbass,” he said with a chuckle, his voice full of fond exasperation, like this wasn’t even the first time he’d witnessed something like this.

you laughed, the sound light as you both made your way deeper into the crowd. the bonfire was the heart of the gathering, its flames throwing warm, golden light over everything and everyone. the air was thick with the mingling scents of wood smoke, spilled beer, and salty sea air. laughter and music filled the space, the bassline vibrating faintly under your feet.

as you moved through the group, heads turned. felix, it seemed, was a familiar face. a few guys nodded at him in greeting, calling out quick, friendly remarks as you passed. but it was the way some of the girls reacted that caught your attention. their expressions lit up when they spotted him—bright eyes, wide smiles—but the moment they noticed you walking beside him, their enthusiasm dimmed. smiles faltered, and they glanced away quickly, feigning disinterest as if they hoped you hadn’t seen. you had seen, though, and you didn’t quite know how to feel about it.

felix didn’t seem to notice—or if he did, he didn’t let on. he navigated the crowd with ease, leading you toward a quieter spot near the bonfire. the logs arranged in a loose circle around the flames were worn smooth from use, and you both found a place to sit. the fire crackled, its warmth wrapping around you in gentle waves. flames leapt and twisted, their vibrant hues of orange and red mesmerizing against the backdrop of the dark sky.

the same guy who was fighting with the keg strolled up. felix looked up, his posture shifting slightly as recognition flickered across his face.

“it’s been a while, felix,” the guy said, his voice loud enough to cut through the surrounding noise. “looks like you brought a girl from sydney?”

felix smirked, gesturing toward you. “yeah, this is my girlfriend.”

“nice to meet you,” the guy said, turning his attention to you with a wink. “you can call me griff. so, how are you liking the beach, love?”

“it’s great,” you said, shifting slightly on the log. you glanced at felix for a moment before returning your attention to griff. “really beautiful. the kind of place that makes you forget about time, you know?”

griff laughed, the sound loud and boisterous. “spoken like someone who’s already been caught up in its charm. it’s what this place does to people. one minute you’re here for a weekend, and the next, you’re house-hunting.”

felix chuckled softly, “thanks for the sales pitch.”

griff waved a dismissive hand, his grin unwavering. “give it time, mate. she’s a keeper—you can tell.” before you could respond, he thrust a red plastic cup full of beer against felix’s chest. “here, i thought you might appreciate this.”

felix hesitated, his hand hovering near the cup but not taking it. “i, um…”

“come on, man. you used to drink all the time at these things,” griffin said, his tone a mix of coaxing and teasing. “no need to act all goodie in front of your dollface.”

you glanced at felix, your eyebrows drawing together. you’d never known him to drink—not once. your confusion must have shown on your face because felix glanced at you, his expression softening as if he could read the questions in your eyes.

“i’m actually good, thanks, griff,” felix said, his voice firm but polite. he shifted slightly on the log, leaning forward as if to place the cup back in griff’s hands.

“come on, felix. just one,” griffin persisted, waving off the refusal like it was nothing. “it’s only, like, two percent.”

felix sighed, a quiet exhale of resignation. you could tell he didn’t want to cause a scene. “you know what? i’ll take it for now,” he said, reluctantly taking the cup.

“that’s my boy,” griffin said, grinning as he clapped felix on the arm, the motion so aggressive it made felix wince slightly. he smiled awkwardly, clearly ready for this to end. but griff’s attention shifted to you next.

“and i’m definitely getting one for you,” griffin said, his grin widening. before you could protest, he was already jogging back toward the keg, weaving through the crowd with agility. you exchanged a look with felix, who rolled his eyes slightly, his lips curving into a lopsided smile. 

within moments, griff was back, holding a freshly poured cup of beer. he placed it at your feet with a flourish, his grin as wide as ever. before you could say a word, a girl called his name—a sharp shout that made him turn. “duty calls,” he said, raising his hand in a quick goodbye. “don’t be strangers, yeah?”

both your eyes followed him as he disappeared into the crowd. felix let out a breath and glanced at you, a faint crease forming between his brows. his lips pressed into a sheepish half-smile, like he was trying to downplay his discomfort. “i’ve only ever drank like…a few times. last year. he’s making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be.”

you shook your head, offering a small, reassuring smile. “no, no, it’s fine. really. i don’t mind.” then, your gaze dropped to the red cup, sitting upright in the sand like a lonely monument to peer pressure. “it’s just… what do i do with this?” you added, nudging it lightly with your shoe.

felix followed your gaze, his shoulders relaxing a little. “like he said, it’s only 2 percent,” he said. then, before you could reply, he lifted the cup in his hand up to his mouth and downed all of it in one smooth motion.

you raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “okay, mister. i guess you’re having mine too.” without waiting for a response, you picked up your untouched cup and handed it to him.

felix chuckled, his laughter low and rich, shaking his head as he took it from you. “if you insist,” he said, his tone light, teasing. he lifted your cup to his lips and began to drink again. the liquid sloshed slightly against the rim as he tilted his head back, the firelight cast golden shadows across his face, catching the faint crease between his brows and the sharp angles of his jaw.

you shouldn’t be finding him this hot right now, but you couldn’t help it. it was the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, like he was making serious business with the beer. the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down each time he swallowed. he finished with a final gulp, lowering the cup and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in one smooth motion.

completely unaware that you’d been watching him, he set the cup down in the sand and glanced at you. when he noticed you staring, he paused, his head tilting slightly. “what?” he asked, his voice breaking the quiet.

you blinked, startled out of your thoughts. “what?” you echoed.

his brows furrowed again, but this time in confusion, his gaze searching your face. “you’re looking at me like i have two heads or something.”

you blinked at him, a playful glint in your eye as you tilted your head. “is that a problem?” you asked, your tone light but teasing.

felix’s lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes narrowing slightly in that mischievous way that always made your heart race. “no,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “i like it.”

the way he looked at you then, his gaze lingering on your lips, sent a flutter through your chest. his expression softened just a touch, his smirk fading into something more vulnerable. the space between you seemed to shrink, the crackle of the fire fading into the background as the world blurred into just him.

you felt a magnetic pull, as though some invisible thread was drawing you closer to him. slowly, you leaned in, your eyes fluttering shut as your heart thudded loudly in your chest. felix mirrored your movement, his breath warm against your skin as he closed the gap.

just as your lips were about to meet, a loud, sharp explosion rang out—a loud burst of sound coming from the sky so sudden it made you jump. your eyes snapped open, and you turned your head quickly toward the source, your pulse racing.

before you could process what had happened, felix’s hand slid gently to your chin, his touch warm and firm as he guided your face back toward him. “don’t worry about that,” he murmured, his voice husky and low. his gaze locked onto yours, his expression intense and unyielding. “we’ve had enough interruptions today, don’t you think?”

and then, without hesitation, he kissed you.

the force of it sent a jolt through your body, his lips pressing against yours with a fervent hunger that left no room for doubt. it wasn’t soft like usual—it was demanding, like he’d been holding himself back all night and had finally given in. his hand remained on your chin, tilting your face toward him as he deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding to the back of your hand, pining it down to the worn down log.

your mind swirled, the rest of the world dissolving in the heat of his touch. his lips moved against yours with a rhythm that was both urgent and deliberate, his need for you evident in every motion. 

his kiss deepened, parting your lips, and his tongue slid in, tasting of the faint, tangy bitterness of the beer he’d just consumed. the flavor mingled with the heat of his mouth, intoxicating in a way that had nothing to do with the drink. his hands found your back, firm and steady, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. the pressure of his lips against yours was urgent, almost desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and the sensation sent a shiver racing down your spine.

you kissed him back with equal fervor, your fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against your mouth. the sound was low and raw, vibrating between you. your body molded into his, heat radiating from him in waves that seemed to melt away the cool night air.

another loud explosion cracked through the sky, the sound reverberating in your chest and pulling you from the haze of the kiss. reluctantly, you broke apart, your breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts. felix’s lips lingered on yours for a fraction of a second longer, like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. his eyes fluttered open, dark and heavy with desire, as you both turned your heads toward the sky.

above, a firework burst in a brilliant cascade of color, its reds and golds spreading out like veins of light against the dark canvas of the night. the shimmering display reflected faintly in felix’s eyes, adding to the glow that already seemed to emanate from him.

but as you stared in awe, felix leaned back slightly, his gaze fixed not on the fireworks but on you. “see?” he murmured. “it’s not that interesting.”

you turned your gaze back to him, your chest still heaving slightly from the kiss, and swallowed hard, the reality of what just happened settling over you. your lips tingled from the intensity, and the heat radiating from your cheeks was enough to rival the fireworks still bursting above you.

you blinked, trying to process it all—the way his lips had moved against yours, the way your hands had seemed to know exactly where to go, threading through his hair like you’d done it a thousand times before. but you hadn’t. this was the first time. a full-on make out.

how did you even know how to do that? where had that come from? your mind raced with questions, all of them tumbling over each other in a chaotic jumble. had it been good for him, too? no, scratch that—it had to have been good. you’d felt the way his body responded to yours, the way his lips had been so urgent, so eager, like he was drinking you in.

you glanced at him again, his face now lit softly by the remnants of the fireworks. his lips were still slightly swollen, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. his gaze met yours, warm and steady, with a hint of something unspoken simmering beneath the surface.

“are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice carrying that raspy edge you hadn’t noticed before tonight. it was a sound that made your stomach flip all over again.

you nodded, but your mind betrayed you, still looping on the same thought: how did i just do that?

“i—” you started, but your voice cracked, and you pressed your lips together, suddenly shy. you looked down, realizing your hands were still resting against his chest. you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, fast but strong, and that tiny reassurance made you brave enough to speak again. “it happened so fast…i don’t know how—.” you breath hitched as you couldn’t speak anymore.

he chuckled, low and warm, and the sound sent a pleasant hum through your chest. “you don’t have to know,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart stutter. “you just have to feel.”

you looked at him, your breath hitching as his words settled over you. he wasn’t wrong. in that moment, nothing had been overthought or planned—it had just happened. natural. instinctive. perfect.

and somehow, that made it even better.

felix tilted his head toward you, furrowing his eyebrows. “it’s getting hot by this fire, don’t you think?” he asked.

you blinked, caught off guard. “i mean… yeah, it is pretty warm,” you replied, fanning yourself awkwardly—though you weren’t entirely sure it was just the fire causing him to get so red.

felix huffed a breath and grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt, lifting it to wipe his forehead. the casual movement exposed a sliver of his toned stomach, and your eyes immediately fell towards it, your heart skipping a beat. goodness gracious.

“i might need another beer to cool off,” he said, his words slightly slurred as he tossed the shirt back down.

you nodded quickly, not trusting yourself to speak. your gaze flickered back to him, trying to act normal—whatever that meant in this situation. 

felix stood up, swaying slightly as he did. “come with me,” he said.

you stood up, and you followed him silently, wondering where this was going.

felix seemed a little unsteady on his feet, but his confidence never wavered. his steps were purposeful—until they weren’t. you saw it happen in slow motion.

“felix—” you started, noticing a guy standing in his path, holding a drink precariously close to his chest, but it was too late. before you could get the rest of your warning out, felix collided straight into him, sending the drink splashing down the front of the guy’s shirt.

“dude!” the guy exclaimed, holding his arms out in disbelief as the liquid soaked through his clothes.

felix blinked, then burst into laughter, the sound bright and unfiltered. “sorry, that’s—” he paused to catch his breath, still laughing. “that’s my bad, man.”

you cringed, stepping forward quickly. “why are you laughing? that’s not funny.” you said, with a serious tone. “so sorry by the way” you apologized to the guy.

but as you looked at felix, it hit you. this wasn’t felix—not the felix you knew, anyway. normally, he’d be mortified, apologizing profusely and trying to fix the situation. but right now, his laughter was carefree, almost careless. he was completely intoxicated. already?

you sighed, glancing at felix as he leaned heavily against you. maybe his tolerance is just really shitty, you thought, trying to rationalize how he’d gotten to this point so quickly. just as you were about to scold him again, you heard an all-too-familiar voice cutting through.

“how’s he holding up?” griffin’s voice was laced with amusement as he walked up to you both, his grin wide as he took in the scene. when his gaze landed on felix, his lips twitched, clearly trying to suppress a laugh.

felix attempted to sit up straighter, his eyes slightly unfocused but brimming with defiance. “i’m fine, griff,” he insisted, his voice slow and deliberate, as though he were concentrating hard on getting the words out. “100%. fine.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you watched felix’s obvious struggle to look composed. his usually smooth speech was stilted, his enunciation overly precise like he thought it would mask his tipsy state. it was clear he was trying to look tougher in front of the guy.

“really? because you don’t look fine,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. turning to griffin, you added, “he’s only had two drinks. i don’t understand why he’s like this already.”

griffin let out a low chuckle, glancing at felix before leaning slightly closer to you. “well,” he said with a smirk, “you should’ve known—these chinks can’t handle anything.”

you blinked, not fully processing griffin’s words at first. but as the weight of what he’d said sank in, your stomach twisted. you turned to him, your voice steady but laced with disbelief. “i’m sorry, what did you just call him?”

felix let out an unexpected laugh, the sound catching you completely off guard. it wasn’t his usual warm chuckle—it was light, careless, and entirely out of place. your stomach twisted, a mix of disbelief and anger bubbling up inside you.

griffin shifted uncomfortably but quickly masked it with a grin. “hey, calm down. i didn’t mean anything by it. you see, even your boy is laughing”

the casual dismissal from both of them made your blood boil. your feelings toward griffin shifted in an instant. just hours ago, he had seemed harmless, even likable. but now? how could he so casually toss around that word, as if it were nothing?

you took a step closer, your eyes blazing with anger. “no,” you said, your voice low but trembling with fury. “what the hell did you just say?”

griffin raised his hands, feigning innocence. “okay, calm down, dollface. i’m not blaming it all on his tolerance, alright? you know the beer couldn’t have been two percent. why the hell would it be here if it was? honestly, i’m surprised he didn’t notice when he drank it.”

felix, still swaying slightly but clearly trying to sound coherent, muttered, “it’s hard to tell, griffin. it didn’t taste that different…”

you turned to him sharply, your frustration boiling over. “you can shut up,” you snapped, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. your voice was harsher than you intended, but you were too angry to care.

felix blinked at you, startled, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it, instead averting his gaze to the ground.

you turned back to griffin, your eyes narrowing. “you knew it wasn’t light, and you pressured him to drink,” you snapped, your voice sharp with anger and protectiveness. 

griffin shrugged, his indifference infuriating. “he would’ve done it regardless of how strong it was. looks like, you don’t know him enough. sydney’s not like the beach, dollface. this is just a bit of fun. no harm done.” he said, his tone dismissive. he even had the audacity to attempt a smile, though it fell flat against your glare.

“fun?” you repeated, your voice rising. “you call this fun?” your chest tightened with rage, your words spilling out before you could stop them. “i’ve only met you tonight, griffin, and i already know you’re a coward. it’s easy to stand there, acting like nothing matters, tossing around slurs and getting people drunk without their consent. but you know what? that’s not fun. that’s pathetic. and it says a hell of a lot more about you than it does about felix.”

griffin's face twisted into a sneer. "watch it," he warned.

"you watch it," you retorted, stepping closer.

the fire crackled beside you, casting long, flickering shadows over griffin's face. his eyes glinted with anger, the light reflecting off his sneer. the crowd around continued to chatter, seemingly completely unaware of the tension between you and griffin, besides a few. the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore seemed louder in the stillness, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere. 

griffin’s sneer deepened, and in a swift motion, he raised a hand as if to make a point—or worse. instinctively, you flinched, squinting your eyes as your body braced for any impact. before anything could happen, a hand clamped down on griffin’s shoulder from behind.

"dude, stop it, you're so drunk!" his friend said, his voice firm, his grip tight on griffin's arm.

“i was just trying to scare her, relax,” griffin slurred, his tone defensive but far from apologetic.

felix stood up quickly, without stumbling, and grabbed griffin by the collar. his movements were now swift, fueled by an adrenaline rush, contrasting to his drowsiness. "don't touch her!" he yelled, his voice shaking with rage. the firelight cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

griffin struggled against felix's hold, his face contorted with anger and defiance. "get your hands off of me!" he snarled, his voice slurred yet still threatening.

felix gritted his teeth, pulling griffin closer, their faces inches apart. you could see the raw emotion in felix's eyes, a mix of fury and protectiveness. griffin's friends quickly stepped in, pulling the two apart. their expressions were a mix of concern and urgency, trying to defuse the situation before it escalated further. felix's chest heaved with anger, his eyes blazing with a fiery intensity that was hard to ignore.

“come on, felix. you look insane right now,” you said, your tone softer, but desperate. his eyes flicked toward you, the fury in them softening just slightly.

his breath was uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly, but he nodded, the tension in his jaw easing ever so slightly. without saying a word, you reached out, pulling him gently away from the crowd. you didn’t look back at griffin—couldn’t bring yourself to—but you heard his voice ring out from behind you, bitter and full of venom.

“yeah, walk away!” griffin shouted, his words laced with resentment. “chinks never belonged here anyway!”

a chill ran through you at his words, and you froze. your hands clenched into fists, but you didn’t turn around. some of the people around the bonfire had gone eerily silent at his words, the air thick with discomfort and tension. you imagined the faces of everyone who could hear it, all the people who could have been affected—felix, some of the teenagers at the bonfire, and even chris if he was here.

the fact that griffin, of all people, would throw out such a loaded term without a second thought was sickening. the thought of how casually he had tossed it out, with no respect or understanding for its weight, made your stomach turn.

you felt felix beside you, his hand on your back, his touch warm despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. you finally took a deep breath, turning your head only slightly to look at him, the frustration and anger still simmering within you. he was still angry, his face tight, but there was a softness in his eyes that made you sigh in relief.

“we need to get out of here,” you muttered, your voice a little shaky from everything that had just happened.

felix's body remained tense as you continued to guide him away, his breathing gradually evening out. the sounds of laughter and music from the bonfire seemed distant and muted in comparison to the pounding of your heart.

the path away from the bonfire was dimly lit, the shadows of the trees casting eerie shapes on the ground. as you walked, the cool night air began to soothe your heated emotions.

you glanced over at felix, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed forward. he looked lost in thought, but there was something fragile about the way he walked, his posture not quite as solid as usual. he wasn’t the carefree, laughing felix you knew, and that made your chest ache.

just as you were about to open your mouth to say something, anything, you heard a voice call out behind you.

"hey, guys!"

you both turned, startled, to see the bagel girl from this morning hurrying toward you. her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she was wearing the same hoodie from earlier. you hadn’t even seen her at the bonfire, but now here she was, catching up to you with a concerned look on her face.

"are you two okay?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with genuine worry.

you blinked, the sudden intrusion snapping you out of the fog of anger and confusion. you hadn’t expected anyone to notice, let alone come looking for you.

felix stood a little straighter, but his expression was guarded, his eyes scanning her for a moment. “yeah,” he said slowly, though his voice lacked conviction. "we’re fine. just... needed to get away for a bit."

the girl shook her head, clearly still upset. “i’ve known griffin since grade 3,” she said, her voice growing more heated, “and he’s always been a jerk. i can’t believe he almost hit you, honey.” she grabbed your hands, her grip warm and reassuring. "are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her gaze searching yours for any sign of discomfort. you felt her concern washing over you, and something in your chest softened.

“yeah,” you said with a smile, though it was small, still shaken from the tension of the past few minutes. “i’m fine. just... everything happened so fast.”

she cooed softly, her eyes full of sympathy as she pulled you into a warm hug. "aw, sweetie. i’m so glad you’re okay. please, if you need anything, talk to me, alright? you know where i’ll be."

the embrace felt so genuine, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection for her. you smiled into her shoulder, feeling comforted by her warmth. “thank you, i love you.”

she pulled back just enough to look at you, her lips curling into a soft smile. "love you too," she said. “okay, good night. i’m gonna go talk to that dick. he’s gonna hear it from me.”

she gave you one last reassuring smile before walking off, her figure disappearing into the darkness as she made her way toward griffin. felix’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, but then he looked back at you, his face unreadable.

you both started walking again, the silence hanging heavy between you. finally, the weight of it was too much, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. “i still can’t believe that happened,” you muttered, your voice thick with frustration. “griffin is such a dick. i can’t believe he said that stuff. and lying to you about the beer? how can someone be so reckless and insensitive?”

you exhaled sharply, your mind spinning as the words poured out. “and being racist? seriously, who talks like that? he’s got no respect for anyone, no decency.” you shook your head, the anger still simmering beneath the surface.

as you looked over at felix, you realized he wasn’t paying attention. his gaze was distant, his expression almost blank, and it felt like you were talking to the air.

you stopped walking for a moment, taking a deep breath and forcing the frustration to settle in your chest. “nevermind,” you muttered, your voice quiet now. you fell into a heavy silence, your steps slow as you resumed walking beside him.

the only sounds were the crunch of your footsteps on the pavement and the distant murmur of the bonfire party, which felt so far away now. you didn’t know what was going on in felix’s head, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

“felix?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stopped and stood in front of him. his eyes, glossy and unfocused, met yours, and you felt an unexpected pang of concern.

he wiped at his eyes with a trembling hand, but it only made the tears smear across his cheeks. “i think i’m drunk,” he said, his voice quivering, the weight of his emotions slipping through the cracks of his carefully built exterior.

you tried to keep the situation light, offering a small smile as you nodded. “that’s highly possible,” you agreed gently, but the smile didn’t quite reach your eyes as you studied him. “but what’s wrong?”

felix took a shaky breath, his shoulders hunching slightly as if the weight of his own emotions was almost too much to bear. "chris always tells me i cry after i drink,” he said, his voice barely a whisper now, like it was something he hadn’t allowed himself to admit until just this moment.

"come here," you murmured, your voice gentle but firm, as you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. his body was still trembling, and you could feel the vulnerability radiating from him in waves. it was such a contrast to the usual felix, the one who always seemed to hold everything together.

he hesitated for a moment, then spoke in a quiet, shaky voice, “is anyone watching?”

you pulled him in a little tighter, your fingers brushing over his back, trying to offer him some sense of comfort. “no one’s watching, felix,” you said softly, giving him a reassuring squeeze. it wasn’t that you were lying—it was the truth. the streets were empty, and the bonfire party felt miles away, a distant memory now.

you knew him better than anyone. you’d seen him cry before, and you knew how soft his heart was. it made sense that this was how his body was reacting to the alcohol.

“y/n…” his voice wavered, the words slipping out in a slow, slurred confession. “i love you. to the ends of this earth. i’m gonna marry you one day.”

you froze for a split second and you could tell from the way his words stumbled that this wasn’t a moment of clarity—it was the liquor talking.

you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “not right now, felix.”

“no please,” he quivered, almost in a whine.

"we can talk about this tomorrow, okay?" you stopped and stood in front of him, putting your hands on his chest.

he nodded, his eyes earnest. "promise?" his fingers lightly touching your waist.

"i promise,"

[pinkaditty]

Tokyo Debunker Headcanons

so. im insane LMFAOOOOOO but no seriously. im not even gonna elaborate. im posting these strictly as an interest check bc if anyone's interested ill keep posting them.

Body Type/Various Measurements Tokyo Debunker hcs:

FROSTHEIM ONLY (interest check!)

a/n: hihi as most of my consistent readers know, i am a biomed major and work in a med field. i love human anatomy. i couldn’t resist the urge to do this once i noticed that Lucas has a wider and taller frame than Kaito. it’s soso interesting i was just like “oh wait, lucas looks… larger than kaito?” and then i confirmed he was, his shoulders were broader and his waistline, albeit proportional, was wider. it’s so interesting. i had to. sorry!

cw: ??? hcs i guess! not trying 2 be insensitive but if u have an ed and seeing weights triggers u or something don't look at this post. i think that's it? oh also ts is not proofread i fear! i spat this out on paper and decided it was good 2 go!

MINORS DNI THESE HCS INCLUDE NSFW THINGS!! THANK YOU!!

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE READING HCS:

note that the measurements may be misleading: for example, a waistline that is several inches smaller than bust or hip does not imply an hourglass shape unless specified. smaller waistline is proportionate to larger bust and hip, provides “normal” rather than “hourglass”. waistline larger or in similar value to bust or hip also does not imply overweight unless specified. subject may have different body type (i.e. pear or triangular), which consists of a larger waistline while still appearing lean (used a body visualizer, so feel free to input the values into one to better see my vision!). i did use a bmi calculator for this, but it is important to note that while some may appear obese or overweight based on weight, these boys have been trained for combat and usually consist of high muscle composition, which weighs more in less quantities than fat. either that, or they’re just unusually tall with a higher body mass and are inevitably going to weigh more. as for penis length: as much as we all appreciate monster cocks, i wanted to make this as realistic as possible. in japan, the penis length is generally equivalent to 7.9% of the body height. most, if not all lengths here, are based off of the values calculated. for our sakes, though, i rounded up a little teehee!!!! and i will admit, some of them i increased a little bit to fit my specific interpretation of the characters (specifically, the tall ones; for example, Tohma landed at around 6in like Jin, but i gave him 7in to account for some diversity in endowment + i jus feel like he'd be longer LOL). girth and other proportions are based purely in my own speculation. 

Jin Kamurai: Height is abt 6’2, so taller than average, but not super tall. Weight is abt 187 lbs or 84.8218 kg (not much muscle definition, but strong core and muscular arms needed to wield heavy sword), 40in underbust circumference, 30in waist, 42in hip. Triangular body type.

Excess notes: Upturned eyes, sharp nose, strongly defined cupid’s bow lips. Broad, unusually flexible shoulders. Hands are long and slender, wrists unusually small. Flatter than a wooden board in the back. Thighs and calves not very well-trained, but strong enough to give him a good base for combat. Penis length 6in, not particularly girthy or lengthy. Happy trail is present but almost invisible, silver hair against white skin relatively hard to spot. Keeps it hairy but does trim occasionally. 

Tohma Ishibashi: Height is around 6’1.5, taller than average. Weight is around 185 lbs or 83.9146 kg (enough muscle definition to be skilled in combat and wield axe, that and generally large height explain larger weight), 39in underbust, 29in waist, 42in hip. Rectangular body type.

Excess notes: Straight almond eyes, long straight nose, regular cupid’s bow lips. Long neck, very pronounced collarbones. Palms especially wide, fingers long and slender. Does not have much of an ass to work with I fear. Similar to Jin in that calves and thighs aren’t well-trained, but good enough to provide a strong base for axe-swinging. Penis length 7in, more in length than girth. Slight curve to the right. Well trimmed, no happy trail. 

Lucas Errant: Height is around 6’, taller than average, but not super tall. Weight is around 213 lbs or 96.6152 kg (large muscle definition despite being shorter, which is why he weighs more), 42in underbust, 30in waist, 46in hip. Hourglass body type.

Excess notes: I hc him to be mixed Jamaican/British + suffers from Acrofacial vitiligo (spots appear typically on face around openings, but in his case it appears on the back of his head which causes the lighter hair color there; has light spots on inner eye, under nose, and on hands, feet, and genital area). Wide, upturned eyes, small pronounced button nose, thicker lips with slight cupid’s bow. Broad shoulders. Hands thicker but wider, very heavy-handed. Has largest ass in Frostheim. Thighs and calves very well-trained, less likely to lose balance than Jin or Tohma during combat. Penis length 6.5in (used a different avg, as he’s not japanese but jamaican), thicker than usual, some varicose vein, slight left curvature. Likes to upkeep happy trail. Doesn’t trim often.

Kaito Fuji: Height is around 5’10, closer to average height. Weight is around 134 lbs or 60.7814 kg (not much muscle definition, gets minimal exercise, has defined core for archery’s sake), 34 in underbust, 28in waist, 36in hip. Rectangular body type.

Excess notes: Wide upturned cat-like eyes, sharp upturned nose, thin upper lip, bottom lip typical size. Long neck, pronounced bone structure (slightly visible spine). Hands are small and slender. Comparable to Jin in that he doesn’t have much of an ass, but isn’t quite as flat as Jin. Has more core strength than thigh or calf strength, but can establish an okay base for archery. Penis length is 5.5in, somewhat thick. Light happy trail and doesn’t grow much pubic hair. 

i want u all 2 be honest with me... am i insane 4 doing this LMFAOAOAOAOAOOO

need 2 find a new roommate bc this one keeps egging me on like "ok u ate with these descriptions" like yes thank u hype man!!!! im gonna get full of myself if u keep saying this shit

anyways. i hope you all enjoyed! im honestly not expecting this 2 do numbers but if anyone wants me 2 continue then i will!! im also working on requests in the background so things may take longer to pump out, but i will do them! until next time, my loves!

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 2 ~

Somewhere Between the Pipes:

I know I asked if readers wanted Muir or Gibbo next, but Gibbo's seemed the best option in terms of timeline. This chapter is longer than Trots' and Muir's will possibly be even longer because of more characters being featured. I wanted to include Finlay here, but somehow I couldn't work her into this piece, so hopefully for Addair's chapter.

Part 3:

'DON'T LOOK AT ME!'

Douglas froze as the voice rattled through The Water Tanks. He hadn't heard anything like that. Gibbo, who was usually quiet with a kind soul, was screaming like a banshee.

Fear quickly rose. Douglas' eyes scanned every corner. He couldn't see his friend, yet his voice bounced off every metal pipe. He looked towards the ceiling for any shadows. Glanced between the pipes to make out a shape. Looked at the water for any ripples.

Nothing.

A sudden shiver ran up his spine. He couldn't tell if it was from the unexpected fear towards Gibbo or the North Sea waters he was standing in at waist height. He moved towards the barely breached stairs and onto the catwalk, and was relieved. Until he heard a bang.

'GO AWAY!'

He jolted with a yelp and fell back before quickly regaining his footing. He still couldn't see Gibbo as he began the process of looking in all directions for something. Where the hell was he?

'Gibbo? Gibbo, it's me. It's Douglas.'

A cry carried itself through the water tanks. Then Douglas saw it. A shadow. But it wasn't human. From what he could quickly gather, it looked like a ball. He couldn't hear footsteps. Another bang, followed by more cries confirmed it to be the drill-worker. But that left more questions than answers. Fear turned to worry. Douglas pressed forward, now ignoring the constant pleas from his friend to either leave, stay away, or going on a rant about his time on ships.

Torn pieces of an orange Cadal uniform and leather workboots stopped Douglas in his tracks before he reached the ladder. As he approached, the torch on his helmet reflected something sticking out from the fabric. A broken chain made from imitation gold with a heart-shaped pendant. Somehow, it didn't fall through the bars and into the water. Douglas quickly wrapped the chain around his fingers and took a moment to look it over. He knew who it belonged to.

A sinking feeling washed over him. He knew it was Gibbo's. Of course he knew, but he had to be sure. Removing his glove, he opened the pendant. Inside was a black and white photograph of a young woman dressed in her Sunday Best and her hair tied into a neat bun. Her skin was covered in freckles, and she had a meek smile.

'Please...Don't come in here...'

With a sharp breath, Douglas began to climb.

'Gibbo? We both know I have to get through there.' Silence. 'Come with me, mate. Please? Don't you want to see your ma and little Jackie for New Year?' Silence. 'Okay. I'm coming up. Just stay where you are.'

The silence was deafening. Was this a trap? Was Gibbo going to attack him?

Douglas reached the top with a small groan. The cold bite from wading through the sea was taking its toll. He gave himself a moment to focus by double-checking if the chain was still wrapped around his hand, but that's when he made out the round shadow next to his own.

It was behind him.

'Gib-' Douglas turned, and his face with a smile turned into pure shock.

Sitting in the corner of the darkened section of the floor was a large mass of flesh. At the centre was Gibbo's head. He didn't have arms or legs. They had been engulfed by The Shape. His back hunched, making him look twice the size with the round growths akin to boils sitting on top and trailing down what should be his spine. Instead of legs, there were things Douglas could only compare to crab legs. Only they were small stubs no bigger than his index finger. He counted nine from the angle he had. That explains how he couldn't hear him move and possibly how fast he was.

Gibbo continued to cry. It was a cry of pain and embarrassment. 'I told you-' Tendrils began to drip from the body where his shoulders should have been. Douglas held up his hands in submission. 'TO STAY AWAY!'

Douglas closed his eyes and waited for it to be over. Seconds passed, and then he realised he was still breathing. There was no pain. Slowly opening his eyes, Gibbo had stopped his attack. A single tendril lingered an inch from Douglas' eye. It moved towards his hand, where it gently removed the chain. Douglas watched in silence as his crewmate opened the pendant and stared at the picture with his mouth hanging open. Tears kept flowing, and Gibbo formed a single word.

'Elanor...'

The fog had been lifted. Gibbo's mind filled with memories of his late wife. How it began in hospital and how it ended in hospital. She was gone, but she parted with the greatest gift to him. Jackie. Something that always gave him joy. His son.

A sense of calm washed over the pair. A weight had been lifted from their chests, and it gave Douglas the push to move closer.

'Gibbo?' He twitched at the sound of his name and turned. 'It's alright, Gibbo. It's alright. But we need to get out of here, yeah?'

'...Douglas?'

'I'm here, mate. I'm here.'

'I'm sorry-'

'Don't be. Don't you dare be sorry.'

'...It hurts...'

'I'm sure it does.' Douglas took the risk and held Gibbo's head in his hands. 'Just stay close to me, and we'll go to Accommodation, alright?'

Gibbo nodded with a small groan. His tendril kept a tight grip on the chain, and Douglas wiped the tears from his face. With a nod, the pair got ready to leave.

'Hello?!' Caz's voice echoed. Gibbo scurried back into the shadows, hoping he would merge with the wall because not even his head could fit behind a pipe.

'Fuck sake, Caz...'

'Don't...' Gibbo's eyes widened in fear. 'Please. Don't let him see me.' He wasn't losing himself to The Shape. He just wasn't ready for anyone to look at him. And you couldn't blame the poor sod.

Douglas nodded and moved towards the ladder. 'Caz. Over here.'

The leccy picked up the pace and breathed a sigh of relief to finally finding someone and being out of the water. 'Douglas. Are you alright?'

'Aye. Sorry I didn't wait earlier, but I had to see what was wrong.'

'Nae bother mate. Is anyone else with you?'

A pause. 'Gibbo.'

Caz picked up on Douglas' hesitation to answer, and his tone when he did. 'Is he alright?'

'No. Well- I mean.' That was a good question. Gibbo was here, but what he had become was something no one would wish upon their worst enemy. Even Rennick. 'Look. Just get up here, but don't look at Gibbo.'

'Why?'

'Just do it, Caz. Keep your eyes shut or look the other way.'

'Okay. Okay. Fuck me...' When he reached the top, Caz turned his head to the left and tried his best not to comment on how weird this was. It didn't help that Douglas lingered over him, giving him no room to breathe. Not that his body would shield Gibbo's. 'Are you both going to Accommodation?'

'Eventually. Are you going to find Roy?'

'Aye. Need to make sure the big man is alright.' Keeping his head down, Caz opened the door and moved down the ladder. 'Seya there, lads.'

The pair waited until they heard the exit door open, then close. Then another 10 minutes. Gibbo shuffled out of hiding. 'Thank you,' he said weakly.

'Let's just get out of here, mate.'

Following in the same direction as Caz, Douglas didn't comment on how Gibbo used the tendrils to climb in and around spaces he couldn't fit through anymore. It was heart-breaking to see, especially when he would catch a glimpse of his chain.

The more they climbed, the more natural light hit them. A bittersweet feeling. Finally out of the cold and dark space of the tanks, but Gibbo had nowhere to hide. It scared him to think what the others would do or say when they see him. Douglas could sense the unease, but they both knew their co-workers. Nothing bad was going to happen to him. And if Rennick or Addair kicked up a fuss, then they'd quickly be put in their place. He turned the door and opened it back into Accommodation.

'So, the lifeboats are useless?' Roy sighed. He awkwardly looked between Caz and Trots, as the trio sat in the canteen, all sharing a smoke. 'Now what?'

'We can only rely on Archie,' Trots said.

'What to get us all out of here?'

'No, but he can go and get help whilst Roper reaches out from Marine Control.'

'Roper's smart,' Caz commented in a somewhat relaxed tone and body language. He leaned back in his seat, happy to just be sitting down. 'He'd have done that already-'

Douglas suddenly rushed into the canteen, having heard the men talking. He let out a sigh of relief and chuckled. 'I am so happy to see you three muppets.' He waited for Gibbo, who shuffled his way into the room, his back rubbing against the low ceilings, and unable to look the men in the face.

'Oh Jesus, Gibbo.' Roy shot up from his chair. Caz was glued to his seat, not surprised in the slightest, and Trots, who could sense something strange, looked stunned. 'Are you okay?'

That wasn't the reaction Gibbo expected. The concern from Roy gave him that small moment of bravery to look at him. '...I think so...' He noticed Trots in the corner of his eye and they shared a look. Just like Trots, Gibbo could sense something odd, but neither of them could describe it.

'Good,' Caz' voice echoed with a small chuckle. He used his leg to kick out a chair for Douglas. 'You can help us find a way out of here.'

[amberlynnmurdock]

I Want You

Pairing: Ben Poindexter "Dex" x Reader

Summary: Dex comes home from a late shift at the FBI to find you sleeping on his side of the bed.

Genre: 18+ CONTENT. SMUT. This is literally pure smut lol. Read with caution and also wrap it before you tap it, this is FICTION lol.

A/N: IDK where this smut came from but this might be the dirtiest I've written LOL. Might be slightly out of character, but I imagine any "light-hearted" Dex I write is before the events of Season 3. There's also MILD angst and MILD fluff if you squint, but LOTS of smut LOL. Enjoy my Dex lovers, so glad I've found you all <3 also this is barely edited I literally just knocked this out

Words: 1.8k

Dex is working late tonight—later than usual. Later than he’d like to, knowing you were alone at his apartment, waiting for his arrival. He hoped tonight would’ve been an early night but as expected, to his dismay, the SWAT unit was called in for a job and there was no chance Dex would be able to get home to you before you fell asleep.

I’m sorry he texted you, the heavy feeling he always got when he knew he would be disappointing you They need us tonight. 

It’s okay you replied, and Dex read it in your sing-song voice I’ll be here waiting. Wake me up for a kiss.

Dex’s mouth twitched in a smile as the elevator lifted him to his floor, where you were most definitely lying in his bed already, making a mess of his fitted sheets. The only clutter he allowed in his life was the mess made by you. He leaned against the wall of the elevator and sighed; he wouldn’t let his exhaustion get in the way of making sure he gave you a kiss goodnight. 

His shoulders were sore from the job tonight, aches and pains all over his back. His bed was practically calling his name and you, the keeper of his comfort. When the elevator dinged, he sauntered to his apartment door and quietly opened it so as to not make any sound. He didn’t want the door opening to wake you—he wanted his lips to take care of that. 

Dex places his keys carefully on the hook and shrugs his denim sherpa jacket off. He opens the door to his bedroom quietly and sighs in contentment as he sees you sleeping soundly. He rarely got good sleep, so it was satisfying to see you deeply in it. It helped him most of the time. 

Not wanting to get in bed without cleaning himself of the night’s job, he stalks to the bathroom and shuts the door before turning the light on so it won’t wake you. After a five-minute hot shower and brushing his teeth, Dex throws on a thin white shirt and boxers and then opens the door again to find you sleeping soundly still. 

He stays in the doorway, watching you sleep. He often did this for peace of mind. When his thoughts got too loud and he began to feel himself spiral, just your presence alone was enough to bring him down. Help him sleep. You always did. Your hair was sprawled on his pillow—you were sleeping on his side, as you always did when he came home late—and you held the covers close to your chest. You looked perfect. He almost didn’t want to wake you up and ruin this image of you, but he had to do what you requested. 

Dex sits in the crook of space you left as you’re sleeping in a fetal position, legs close to your chest. The bed dips a little when he sits and he gently runs his fingers over the side of your face, caressing your skin carefully. It only takes him four times of doing this until you stir in your sleep. 

“Dex,” your eyelids are heavy but you force them to open to see Dex’s soft expression looking down at you, a smile on his face. “You’re home.”

“I am,” Dex whispered. “You wanted me to wake you.”

“I know,” you reach up lazily and cup his cheek in the palm of your hand, thumb grazing just below his bottom lid. “Kiss me.”

Dex’s eyes are half closed as he leans down to meet your lips. When your lips finally touch, his eyes close, and the kiss consumes every fiber of his being. The noise that constantly buzzed in his head, for a moment, was silenced by your soft lips. His attention was drawn to your fingers twirling in his dirty blonde locks as you pulled him even closer. Dex opens his mouth and dashes his tongue on your bottom lip, a way to ask you to let him in. You open your mouth in return and let his tongue glide against yours as you breathe in his fresh scent. 

“Come here,” you pull back and push the sheets off you for Dex to join. 

“This is my side,” he jokes as he slides underneath, brings the covers over the both of you again and hovers his entire body over you. “Give it back.”

“Take it back,” you smirk, your haze of sleepiness fading as the weight of Dex on top of you energizes you. He’s just taken a shower—you can tell by the way his thin white shirt clings onto his hot, soft damp skin. His shirt is so thin you want to rip it apart to feel his warmth on yours. You just might by the way you’re gripping his collar. 

Dex laughs, understanding your nudge. He pulls his shirt from the back and off him. It’s only then he realizes you’re already ahead of the game and completely naked in his bed. 

“__…” your name falls from his lips as he feels your soft skin pressed into his bed. Dex runs his hands from your neck to your collarbone and stops there to kiss you between the crook of your shoulder. He leaves a trail of kisses along the length of your neck before kissing your lips again. If there’s anything he’s good at, it’s knowing exactly where to kiss you. 

“Dex,” you sigh into his kisses and close your eyes. You find his strong hands and guide them to where you need to be touched most. You place the palms of his hands over your breasts and Dex gently kneads them as he pulls back from kissing you. It was a wonder how something so beautiful he was allowed to touch. 

But something shifts in his demeanor. Something he knows you like. Without fail he kicks your legs apart so he’s fully over you now, pressing his hard cock between your legs. You take a shaky breath, feeling your arousal grow so much you need him sooner than later. You look up at Dex and he’s already staring down at you. 

His eyes are as dark as the room but you can’t ignore the intense gaze he gives you—so intense you felt like he was pulling your soul out of your body and claiming it his. In a way, he already had it. You were all his. You swallow hard, never getting used to the way he looks at you like that, and reach up to grab him by his jaw to kiss you. Dex sucks on your lips and holds you by your waist. You find the band of his boxers and push them off.

“You want me?” That little voice of doubt Dex just can’t ignore comes through in this intimate moment, and he wants to kick himself for asking it. He asks as his lips trace the skin of your neck anyway, pausing to anticipate your reaction. You affirm him, like you always do. 

“I want you, Dex,” you breathe, and Dex sighs in relief. He pulls back, a much softer gaze on you, but his eyes still so dark. “I love you.”

It’s those three words he pretends not to hear—pretends like they couldn’t save his life. But they do, they always do. And he’s brought back down to reality as he gently pushes your legs further. His cock is throbbing between his legs now but he won’t give either of you the sweet relief you need—not before he teases you just a bit. 

Dex trails his fingers down your stomach and circles your clit gently with his thumb, watching your face for your reaction to his touch. Where do you like it? How does his thumb make you feel? A beautiful expression softly etches on your face that tells him you like what he’s doing. You want more. 

Dex slides two fingers inside your warm wetness and it takes everything in him to bite back a moan. He clenches his jaw as he slowly pushes in and out with his fingers in your pussy, going deeper and deeper with each stroke. He curls his fingers to hit the spot you so desperately need to be touched. Goosebumps raise on his skin as he watches your face contort with pleasure. 

“Dex,” you demand his name. “I want you.” 

Dex slides his fingers out your pussy and cups the back of your neck with his hand to kiss you slowly—he needed this as much as you did. And without warning, Dex lines his cock with your warm pussy and slowly pushes himself inside you.

“Fuck,” you moan softly in his ear as his length stretches your tight pussy. Dex takes a deep breath as he settles inside you, caressing your neck and pushing even deeper. And then he starts to move slowly, pulling all the way out before harshly pushing back in. The bed begins to rock with every thrust he makes, every grunt he suppresses, and every moan you let out. You spread and wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him even deeper, feeling the tip of his cock touch your sweet spot inside. You’re completely soaking all over his hard cock, surely getting the bed wet. Dex had a way of fucking you so good it was hard to think of how to return the favor, but he loved to please you like this, he loved to be in charge of your pleasure. Dex pounds his cock into you slowly, feeling your tightness and wetness all over him, he focuses on your breathing to know when you’re about to come. 

“__,” he whispers your name. “Say you want me.”

“I want you,” you whisper breathlessly, feeling yourself come all over his cock, the sounds of sex filling the space between you. 

“Keep saying it,” Dex’s voice is hardly above a whisper as he feels himself almost come undone. His pushes his cock all the way inside you, earning a moan slip from your lips. 

“I want you, Dex,” you say breathlessly, squeezing your pussy on his cock. “I want you. I want you. I want—“

Dex shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw as his final thrust coats your soft and warm pussy, filling you with his cum. He continues his pounding slowly with each last pump of cum he spills inside you and holds you close to his chest to keep you from shaking. 

“It’s okay,” your chest is heaving, and your entire body is shaking. “I’m okay.”

Dex completely pulls out of you, and you feel the space he’s left—empty. Dex looks at you with concern, his heart pounding against his chest. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Dex,” you smile, pushing a sweaty strand of his hair back. “I’m more than okay.” 

“Okay,” Dex nods, catching his breath finally. 

When Dex gets up to fetch a towel from the bathroom, you wrap yourself in his sheets and claim his side of the bed as your own. When Dex comes back, he smiles to himself. He crawls into bed—into your side—and wraps his strong arms around you. He watches you fall asleep again and only lets himself nod off when he can’t fight sleep anymore. 

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Courting Ayelýn

Series Listing Found Here

Aonung x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Pressured by his parents to enter a formal courtship, Aonung rebels in his own way and what starts as a ruse, turns into something real. 

Note before reading: This is a spin off of my Safe Haven Series.

Reading Safe Haven is not necessary to follow this story.

Some characters have been aged up. Aonung in particular is 25.

Ayelýn is my own creation. *Pronounced Aye-Lin

Warning!! This part is pretty much pure smut.

~

Part 5 - When They Fucked II

The deep rumble of Aonung’s grunt of annoyance sent a rippling vibration through Ayelýn’s body.

With another warning, he pushed her hand away. 

“It’s not- ngh!” A strangled whine broke from her lips as his thrusts sped up. Lýn tried yet again to reach a hand between them- to where they were joined, but the skxawng snatched her hand away. Again!

“Stop, Lýn,” he said firmly, pinning her wrist above her head. 

“It’s not going to work,” she snapped, fixing him with the sternest glare she could muster. It was difficult… especially because her entire body was thrumming with pleasure. 

Like an annoying sneeze that refused to come, Lýn felt her impending orgasm lingering- right there on the cusp. It was so close, she could just about taste it. All she needed was the slightest hint of attention on her poor clit. She couldn’t come without the stimulation of it- she’d never had. 

But Aonung, like a stubborn man on mission, was adamant that she didn’t need it- that he could make her come alone from his ‘oh so wondrous co-’

Lýn gasped when he suddenly pulled out of her. 

Feeling empty as her walls pulsed around nothing, he manhandled her into another position. And with a yelp, she was flipped onto her stomach. Hips drawn up to bring her to her knees, in one swift thrust, she was filled again. 

They moaned in unison as they adjusted to the new angle.

He was so far in- it was as though she forgot how to breathe. So deep it felt as if he were in her lungs- her throat. And when he began to move, she saw stars. 

Fingers tightening in her hair, he yanked her head back and mouthed along the span of her exposed neck.

“You feel amazing, gorgeous. Soo, fucking tight and-” he grunted when she clamped around him. 

Hips setting a ruthless pace against hers, Lýn whined and keened- barely able to hold herself up as her fingers clenched into fits around the material of the mats beneath them. She quaked at the tug of her tail and was so far gone, all thoughts from her mind were wiped clean. 

Breasts shaking with every jerk, on one particular thrust, Aonung hit something inside of her that made her cry out. Her back bowed as she ached into it and- Eywa. 

“Ayelýn,” he growled into her skin. He could feel her fluttering around him, squeezing him so tight he damn near came. 

When he reared up onto his knees, he slipped out for a fraction of a second despite her mewling protest. He pumped himself once, twice, before lining up and slamming back into her with a powerful thrust, using her hips as leverage.

Lýn’s arms gave out as white hot pleasure wrecked her- face hiding in the crook of her arm. 

Near delirious as she came, the tides didn’t stop- she felt it from the tingling of her scalp- hair fisted in Aonung’s hand- to the ends of her toes and the tip of her tail. 

And all the while her body spasmed, Aonung talked her through it- drawing out her climax with languid thrusts, murmuring sweet words of praise in her ear. 

Not long after that, he spilled into her, releasing a deep, satisfied sigh as if coming home from a long journey. 

~

“Told you I could make you come like that,” he gloated, nipping her hip bone. He smothered his chuckle into her tummy when Lýn smacked him with her tail. 

Sprawled on her back, her chest was still heaving as she recovered. Aonung had slipped one of her legs over his shoulder when he’d settled between her thighs, chin perched on the same spot he’d just kissed as he peered up at her. 

A hint of light broke through the hideaway, signaling that morning was near, yet neither of them hustled to right themselves- both secretly wanting to stay in their little bubble just a while longer. 

Since their heated encounter a few weeks ago, there was an undeniable change between the two of them. Subtle at first, it had flickered into a maddening and almost uncontrollable fire. 

When it started, Lýn had made halfhearted objections, reminding him of her rules- despite the fact that they’d already been broken on multiple occasions.

But Aonung was ridiculously persuasive and she just about folded every time he promised it’d be, “the last time.” 

Oh the liar.

It began…

With kissing.

Needy, frantic kisses- all for show of course- when a very persistent Ezly kept trying to get Aonung’s attention at another feast they’d attended- despite the fact that it was well known by now that he and Lýn were in “a secure courtship.”

Followed then by soft goodbye pecks that Lýn would try to shy away from, only for Aonung to claim her lips entirely and have her caving in seconds. 

Then there were the kisses that came naturally, almost as if there was no thought to it- fleeting little things that happened in the blink of an eye- her, bringing him a drink of water while he and his team were sweat soaked from working on rebuilding a Keftxo pier- and him, ducking to brush his lips over hers in thanks. 

They happened so often now that Lýn found herself leaning in expectantly in moments she thought he’d kiss her- even freezing once or twice in embarrassment when she’d read the moment wrong. Aonung read her all too clearly however- his grin would be so wild and wicked while she feebly denied her intentions- words quieting as he gladly silenced her with his lips. 

Gradually, their public displays of affection continued in private, with a feverish intimacy that confused them both when they eventually went their separate ways.

Aonung’s hideaway had become a secret haven for them- one that was put to good use in the past couple weeks. 

Any excuse was used to end up at the little shack, and although they skirted around each other, playing with fire in an odd sort of foreplay that turned bickering into flirting- without fail they collided- exploring each other's bodies with a passionate intensity. 

It wasn’t always passionate though.

Sometimes it was playful and sweet, others simply exploratory, where they taught each other what they liked. There were of course the moments where it was pure animalist fucking- raw and savage that left them with bites and bruises. 

And then there was the type that they both secretly liked the most- the one that didn’t feel like fucking. It was the type of fuck that felt like making love…

But no matter the kind, after each time, while they basked in the afterglow, they talked. 

Some nights they’d whisper and giggle as they swapped childhood stories. Some mornings, on the brink of sleep and wake, they’d revealed hidden fears- him, not knowing if he was good enough to be Olo'eyktan, and her- worried about the unknown, about her future. 

There were also the rare occasions their tongues slipped up- admitting things they’d buried deep inside of them- 

I want you to keep me forever.

And... 

I wish you were mine.

- all said when they were both delirious and reeling from multiple orgasms- sweat slicked skin, roaming hands and mouths playing between hovering and fused as though trying to steal each other's last breaths. 

Today however, they were content to just be. 

Aonung drew shapes along her skin with his fingers, the digits trailing up the side of her thigh and over her flat stomach- circling her belly button.

It was quiet and calm- comfortable, and like always, they didn’t acknowledge what they’d just done. 

Lýn smiled lazily- the kind of blissful smile she usually gave him after a thorough fuck. She cupped his cheek and ran a thumb across his bottom lip. 

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, staring at him. 

He kissed her palm in thanks, doing a terrible job at not blushing. 

He didn’t fucking blush.

And when he peered back at her- she had to look away- heart beating with a little bit of excitement, a little bit of fear.

It was that look again.

The one that spoke deep meaning.

The one she mistook for love…

After collecting her thoughts, she was the first to make a move. Aonung groaned grumpily, but let her untangle herself from him. 

“It’s still early,” he complained, sprawling onto his back without a shred of modesty. 

“I’ve been late twice already this week,” she said, reaching for her discarded tweng. “Slwen’s known for her hash warnings and you know she’s not quiet when she speaks. I think she’s on to me.” 

“Slwen likes me- just tell her you’ve been with me.”

Lýn laughed. “And be given another lecture like the one my mother gave us? Yeah, no way.” 

Tweng secured low on her waist, she scanned the mat covered floor in search of her top while her hands desperately tried to tame her wild hair. 

Aonung covertly tucked her top a little more under him with a smirk, enjoying the view of her pacing. Her pretty little breasts had love bites scattered all over them. It was the only place she let him leave his marks. 

“Have you seen my top?” 

“No,” he lied. 

Lýn zeroed in on him and held out her hand expectantly. It was not the first time he’d tried this. 

“Aonung, come on, we have duties to get to today. I already have a long swim ahead of me.” 

He obliged and got to his feet. “Let me drop you off, my skimwing will be faster.”

“You can’t,” she said, turning her back to him when he gestured for her to, and lifting her hair as he helped her with the ties of her top. “You have trainees to meet with this morning, remember?”

“They can wait,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her nape as he hugged her from behind- one hand sneaking up to fondle a breast. 

“Be nice to them, today.”

His face screwed up at that and before he could talk, she was speaking again. 

“They’re just kids and they look up to you.”

“They’re not kids- and also, did they seriously tell on me?!” 

They had. 

Lýn had thought it quite amusing, yet adorable when the teenagers had shyly approached her to say hello during one of her visits to the main village.

Mid conversation- Anoung’s overly strict tendencies had come up, and though to the trainees she supported their leader’s choices, she still found herself speaking on their behalf.

She turned in Aonung’s arms to smile at him. “That’s not important. Just be a smidge nicer, yeah?” She moved to walk away, but Aonung pulled her back to him with a firm tug on her tail. 

One large palm sinking into the strands at her nape, he gave her a firm kiss.

And when he pulled away, his face was a mask of seriousness. “We need to talk later,” he said without releasing her from his hold. 

She licked her lips with a frown. “About?”

“I heard you had a visitor a few days ago. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Lýn rolled her eyes. “Who told you? Kaii? My mother?” 

“No, your father actually.” 

She snickered. “I swear, you two are such terrible gossips.” 

But Aonung was not laughing. “Why didn’t you tell me Ezly visited you?” 

Trying to deflect, she glanced downward at the appendage currently poking her. “Can you put that thing away if you insist on talking about this?” 

Aonung sighed and let her go.

In the few seconds it took him to find his tweng and cover himself up, Lýn inconspicuously tried to sneak out. Before she could cross the threshold however, Aonung was quickly snagging her around the waist and tutting in disappointment. 

He kept her pinned with his body against a bamboo beam. “We’re not done talking, Lýn. You still haven’t told me why-”

“Because of this,” she pointed at him. “You always get so worked up-”

“Ayelýn.”

“Almighty Eywa!” she hissed. “Nothing terrible happened, alright? Erzo-”

“Ezly.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Her, yes... She came by all rude and huffy, telling me that it was only a matter of time before you ended things- that you’d grow bored of me- which is nothing I haven’t heard before- but this was much more worse than your other little heartbroken women- you’d swear she owned you! I told her she might as well just peed on you like a stupid dorado verde trying to keep predators away from its pilfered carcasses with how she was behaving.” 

Aonung snorted. “You told her that?”

Lýn shrugged. “Well yeah… and-” she mumbled something that didn’t quite reach his ears.

“I didn’t get that last part, gorgeous,” he said, shaking his head. 

“I might’ve- sort of… made her cry- just a little!”

He blinked- lips curling into a wry smile. “You made… Ezly… cry?”

She showed him her index fingers- fingertips inches away from each other. “Just a little,” she admitted with a pout.

Aonung released a breathy laugh and pecked her jutting bottom lip. “What am I going to do with you?”

‘Keep me,’ she wanted to say. So she did, keeping her tone light. “Keep me.”

“Fine by me,” he answered, lifting her in his arms. 

She sank further into his embrace. “You owe me by the way… Elzra and I had a serious conversation. I know for sure she wasn’t pleased, but I believe she’s gotten the message now… I don’t think she’ll be bothering you anymore.”

“Thank Eywa for you, gorgeous,” he said before covering her mouth with his.

Fuck. 

She was definitely going to be late again. 

~

Awa’atlu was the busiest Lýn had ever seen. 

They were after all preparing for an event that rivaled all others. 

Visitors from not only from the Omaticaya clan were all traveling to Awa’atlu to celebrate the official union of Lo’ak and Tsireya. 

Fishing expeditions occurred in grand fanfare as fleets returned with double the amount of their usual hauls.

Harvest gatherers and land hunters, stockpiled the village’s cashes and many worked overtime on the more time consuming matters- meat and fish smoked or salted, grains ground into flour and nectar painstakingly collected from pods. 

The beach and sea were combed for any hint of debris. Torches and fire pits- including a massive bonfire in the center of their communal area were constructed, and extravagant designs- tapestries, painted fabrics and flora arrangements were scattered in harmonic decor. 

A multitude of temporary mauri pods along the northern sealine were also constructed in preparation for the influx of guests the village was expecting, whilst drums and flutes were tweaked and tuned- their melody flowing through as songs were practiced. 

Fermented and brewed ales and wines were dug up from their resting place and Lýn spotted many with busy hands as they put finishing touches on their garmented designs. 

The Sully family in particular were arriving a few days before the designated festivities were to begin- expected to land in the early hours of tomorrow morning, and Lýn, to both her and Aonung’s surprise, had been asked by Ronal to be present at the greeting party. 

Not only that but the Tsahìk also expected Lýn to be part of all the traditional festivities and ceremonies spreading across the next two weeks… something Lýn was quite nervous about. 

One of these ceremonies included the official meeting of the two families- something that was traditionally done in the earlier stages of a couple’s courtship, but allowances had been made because of the evident distance.

It was also a tradition that was strictly practiced by the couples family. 

Lýn wasn’t family.

~

When night came, she made her way to the pod she had been directed to.

Aonung’s private mauri was small but cozy and far more homey than the shack on his little island. 

Tossing her overstuffed satchel of things onto his table, Lýn spun in a slow circle, taking in his space for the first time. 

He had a couple collections of odd knick-knacks, a plethora of weapons and fishing gear and surprisingly, even a few hanging plants that appeared to be well kept. 

His sleep mats- although untidy, looked inviting. Lýn wasn’t tired, yet she wanted nothing more than to sink into them- she bet they smelled like Aonung. 

Instead, she perched behind his little table and waited for him whilst fiddling with the odd human-made device she’d seen him use to communicate with other clans. 

At the sight of her when he finally entered a while later, he grinned like a child given a treat and Lýn couldn’t help the stupid giggle that bubbled at her chest. 

“What are you so happy about?” she asked, twisting to face him. 

“I have lured the Ayelýn Te Azuei Lou'ite into my home. What man wouldn’t be happy?” he half joked as he hung up the towel that had been resting around his shoulders and the soap pouch dangling from his fingers.  

“Oh shush! I’m still not sure how you managed to convinced me of this. I can still go home, you know? It’s not even that late. I’m sure I’ll get here on time tomorrow and I don’t see why I need to stay for all two weeks.” 

He huffed as if saying, “Not this argument again.” 

Placing a palm dramatically over his chest, he approached her. “Why must you always wound me with your words?” His hands reached for her expectantly, and she allowed him to pull her to her feet. “You’re always trying to leave me.” 

“Am I?” she whispered, eyes closing when his clean scent washed over her.

A soft sigh escaped her as she let him kiss her- head tilting to the left as he went to the right. 

Threading his fingers through her hair, he claimed control of her movement, bending her to his will as her palms trailed up his chest- one resting flat over his heartbeat while other reached high to cup his neck- fingertips toying with hair strands she found there.

Nothing between them felt like pretending anymore.

“Aonung,” she murmured as he forged a path down her throat. Something in her core tightened and Lýn knew she was seconds away from making another terrible decision- one that would make things harder when it came time to end them. 

After selfishly stealing a couple more kisses, she reluctantly broke their connection. “We should sleep.”

He swallowed and gave a shaky nod, failing to mask his disappointment. “Sleep… Right.” 

“Mhm. We have a busy day tomorrow. An early one too.”

It was why Aonung suggested Lýn stay with him from that night on, so that she didn’t have to wake at an unreasonable hour to make the journey over. She’d found it logical yes- but didn’t think it was a good idea for them to share a space… much less for her to stay the entirety of the two week celebration. 

But of course, and to no surprise, she folded. 

Ayelýn wasn’t even surprised that the man was also able to get her parents to agree to it as well- even promising her brother he’d craft him his very own official spear since he would be stealing Lýn away for so long. 

Soon enough, Ayelýn was settling in and making herself comfortable in Aonung’s sleep mats. And she was right… they did smell like him. 

Aonung sat near the edge of the fabric. He pulled her feet into his lap and tickled the underside of one foot, gaining a playful kick to the chest in retaliation. 

Crashing waves in the distance echoed comfortingly and a cool breeze blew into the marui. 

For Ayelýn, it all felt rather domestic. She’d already eaten dinner with him and his family that evening. Now here she was, curled on her side, observing him as his fingers released his hair from its usual tidy bun. 

“Should I be worried about meeting Toruk Makto and his family tomorrow?” 

“No, why?”

“Aonung, I’m not family, and I know your mother was the one to invite me but-”

“I want you there tomorrow,” he said firmly. “I want you to meet the Sullys. I want you to meet Neteyam and Xilä, and their son.” His hands abandoned his hair to squeeze around her ankle, one palm running up her calf. “When you start to feel that stupid feeling like you don’t belong there with us, just know that I want you there. Yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

Lýn hid her blush under the pretense of adjusting herself into a more comfortable position. Once settled, she nibbled on the tip of her thumb and squinted at the man before her. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, gorgeous,” he said as he continued with the twists to the front of his hair. 

“What’s the real reason you don’t want a mate?” 

“Who said I don’t want a mate?”

“Um, you did? When you asked me to help you with this elaborate plan of yours.” 

Aonung shook out his loose hair with a sigh, digits combing through the strands. He looked good like this, she thought. His curls were long and shiny and she was itching to run her fingers through them. 

“I want a mate. I want a wife.”

Lýn swallowed. “Then why-”

“It’s difficult to explain.” 

“Try,” she whispered.

He held her gaze for a long minute- expression soft and one of vulnerability. 

“Being who I am, sometimes I can’t tell when women are-” His brows scrunched, and he shook his head. “They don’t see me. They see, son of Tonowari. The chief's son. Future Olo'eyktan… And I know I am those things- there’s no escaping it... But I'm tired of being casted in my father’s shadow.”

His hands found her foot again whilst he spoke. Fingers tracing her ankle, thumb pressing into the ball of her foot. 

“I liked this one girl when I was dumb teenager. Thought I’d ask her to court once I completed my rites… but thankfully I didn’t since I overheard her and her friends gushing that she'd managed to nab the chief’s son and what it meant for her- her title. Her status. Her, her, her. ” 

Aonung snorted self-deprecatingly. “I wasn’t Aonung. I was a goal to her. A fucking thing to win… Anyway, from then on I found that women tend to only want me because of my title. It gets them attention. Other men are suddenly interested in them- because they’re seen with me.”

He rolled his eyes. “And sure, maybe it wasn’t all of them, but they began to blur, and it was hard to tell who was being genuine… So over time, of it happening over and over again, and getting hurt- I leaned into it. I lowered my expectations and gave no fucks.”

His thumb rubbed along the space above her heel, and Lýn had to bite back a moan. His fingers felt sinful and it wasn’t appropriate for her to, given that he was currently opening up to her. 

“So yeah, it’s not that I don’t want a mate. I do. But I don’t want a loveless match… I don’t want to have children and spend an eternity with someone I only bonded with out of honor and duty. My parents did it and were lucky to eventually find love… But I can’t. I’ve seen the unlucky ones with my own eyes. I don’t want that.”

“Aonung,” Lýn whispered, as though feeling his pain. “Thank you for telling me,” she said gratefully. “I understand… and I hate that for you. You deserve love to find that love you’re looking for.” 

He gave her a sincere smile of appreciation. “What about you?”

“Me?” she asked, shifting onto her back and nudging her other foot into his hands, sighing in relief when he began to massage it. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, eyes trailing up her body, from the feet in his lap to her slightly parted thighs, to her chest that was barely covered by a strip of cloth, patched with tiny seashells, to then finally landing on her face- eyes closing as she enjoyed his working fingers. 

“Why’s no man managed to grab you up yet?” 

Lýn snorted at his wording but since he was so open with her she decided to be honest too.

“Actually, a couple months before we met, I thought I was going to be.”

Aonung swallowed but managed to keep his tone leveled. “Who was he?”

“He’s a patroller from the Malti village. We met at a clan gathering and he was sweet and attentive. He had a way with words and he made me think that we really did have a future… I mean it wasn’t love but…” 

“What happened?”

“Keftxo, I think? He ended it after saying that it was too far a journey to make each time to see me… that the courting phase would never last.”

“That’s the poorest fucking excuse I’ve ever heard. Awa’atlu is farther than Multi is to Kefto and I make the journey out almost everyday!” 

“I know,” Lýn said gently. “Seeing that had me rethinking the entire thing. Maybe he just didn’t want me anymore, or maybe he just hated Ketfxo.”

“Well, his fucking loss then,” Aonung grumbled while he crawled in beside her, snagging her around the waist and making himself comfortable. 

Lýn turned in his arms, fingers coming up to fiddle with the talon around his neck and Aonung stayed still, watching her through hooded eyelids. She brushed a strand of hair off his cheek and traced down the line of his jaw, letting the tips of her fingers linger over his lips. 

If this moment could last forever, he would take it. 

Fingers still trailing, they burned a path downwards, stopping over his heartbeat. 

Calm washed over Aonung, and all he wanted was to be closer to her. He pulled her to him and affectionately nosed the space at the junction of her neck.

“Can I make you come?” he asked against her skin, fingers playing with the material on her hip. 

His request was so soft and casual, one would think he was simply asking for them to go on a late night stroll. 

Ayelýn’s body responded without her permission. She craved him, yet a tiny part of her rebelled. Her fingers sank in his hair- on their own accord, marveled by its softness. 

“Didn’t we agree that none of it ever happened and that we would never talk about it? As in never, ever?”

“Mmm, you agreed, yeah... I didn’t.” 

“Aonung… I’m not sleeping with you again. It’s a bad idea- you know it too.”

His head lifted out from her neck. “Who said anything about sleeping?” he asked in faux innocence. “I was planning to fuck you, Ayelýn. I wanna hear those little noises you make just for me.” 

Lýn squeezed her thighs together despite rolling her eyes in annoyance- though, she wasn’t really. “Do you only ever think with your dick?”

“Not always. My fingers and tongue do a lot of thinking too… and my tail.” He wiggled his brows. “And I know you’re into that.”

Head tossed backwards, she cackled. “Oh that was good. That was really good. No wonder you lure so many women in here- and speaking of-” She shuffled. “I hope these mats are clean.” 

She’d meant it as a joke, but an odd expression crossed his face. 

“What?”

“I don’t- I never brought women here.”

Lýn’s heart fluttered at the comment. “Never? You’re lying.”

“No, honest. Usually we just did it whe-”

“I don’t need or want to know where you and your entanglements happened,” she interrupted, causing him to release a breathy laugh. 

“Fair enough.”

She wanted to ask him why he’d brought her here but couldn’t bring herself too. “Can I ask you another question though?”

“If you keep doing what you’re doing right now, then yeah, go for it.”

Her fingers were still in his hair, tips gently dragging against his scalp.

“That woman- Ez something-”

“Ezly,” he corrected with a stupid smile on his face. “I’m starting to think you’re doing that on purpose.”

“I’m not!”

“It’s okay, gorgeous. Jealousy looks good on you. You’ve got me blushing over here.”

“Oh hush! What I’m trying to ask is- is she the one from your story? The girl you liked?” 

Aonung’s smile dropped. “How’d you figure that out?” 

“You said you never slept with her. Right?” 

“Mhm.” 

Aonung’s jaw was clenched tight, so she soothed a palm over it, happy when he leaned into her affection. 

“Whenever she’s around it’s like you can’t stand to look in her direction and you get all tense and irritated whenever she talks… Then there’s also the fact that she had this crazy sense of entitlement over you, which since you said you never slept with her… could only stem from something else. She was the girl you wanted to ask to court…”

He couldn’t deny it. It was clear as day all over his face. 

“And I’m guessing,” she continued. “That based on her behavior alone- even after all these years, she still had hope, she still thought that after you’d “had your fun,” you’d go right back to her.” 

“It took me a long time to get over her,” he revealed. “Like I said, I was a dumb kid… When I finally did, I wondered- what exactly did I ever see in her in the first place.” His head fell, face nuzzling into Lýn’s cheek as she wrapped him up in a comforting hug. “You were right by the way. She got the message- avoids me now… Still can’t believe you made her cry though… and I must say it’s kind of hot seeing you so protective of me.” 

Lýn laughed. “Ezra had it coming a long time now.” 

“It’s Ez- you know what- call her whatever,” he said through a snicker. 

Shuffling their position, he rolled them over. Lýn laid on her back now to accommodate his massive body. 

‘He was such a cuddler,’ she thought in amusement. 

“I’ve never told anyone any of that before,” he admitted. “I'm also surprised by how much you figured out too.”

“Really?” She soothingly caressed his back. He was getting a tad heavy being draped over her like this, but she didn’t mind. “Why is that so surprising? I do pay attention when you talk.”

His head popped up at that and Lýn internally squirmed at the intensity she found in his gaze. There was a question in his eyes and it was clear as day what he wanted.

“No,” she said, despite her body screaming, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

“You know, gorgeous… that’s what you said when I asked you to kiss me the first time… and guess what? We kissed. No, is also what you said right before we fucked- and damn, I think lost count of how many times it’s been now,” he listed in a silly tone.

“Aonung-”

“No,” he continued, fingers trailing up her side, “is what you said when I asked you to court-”

“Fake court.”

“Fake court,” he corrected. “And now look at where we are…” He shook his head as though disappointed in her- so serious with his acting that Lýn had to mash her lips together to not laugh. “I have to say… I’m starting to think that your no’s don’t really mean… no.”

Lýn swallowed and forced herself to not look away from his intense stare- his eyes almost daring her to refute him. 

“So I’ll ask again,” he said, voice low rumbling, causing her tummy to clench, “Can I make you come?”

Playing along with his game, her eyes spoke volumes and when her mouth spewed the word, “No,” Aonung grinned. 

Head descending, he kissed her for a long, drawn out moment. “Fuck. I love kissing you,” he rasped when he pulled away. 

Love. 

The word did something to Lýn, and as Aonung studied her expression- she knew that he knew it too. 

Not wasting another second, he kissed her again, harder this time- a kiss so passionate, it burned through her veins. 

The arousing sound of her needy moan was his undoing and unable to hold himself back any longer, he pulled away again and made quick work of removing her top and tweng. 

When she was bare to him, he was everywhere. Lips, hands- tail pushing her legs open so his frame could sink right into her. 

She bucked her hips and pulled on his hair as he sucked on a pebbled nipple, teeth nipping around her skin before he swallowed her breast in its entirety. 

“Aonung, please-“ She tried to guide one of his hands where she wanted him. 

“Not yet,” he answered around her breast.

Lýn grunted impatiently. “I thought you were going to fuck me- ow!” She hissed when he bit her in warning and stubborn like always, he continued with his path of leisure down her body. 

He worshiped her skin with kisses and quiet words that went unheard by her, all the way until his wide shoulders settled between her stretched thighs. 

And only using his tongue, he licked her into oblivion. With broad sweeps and sucks, he kept her held down with a firm grip and Ayelýn could do nothing but take it. 

Ears gone muffled and no longer able to hear the lewd sounds of his tongue at work, much less her own moans and cries, she arched, fingers fisted in Aonung’s hair as an orgasm rocked her. 

He kept her thighs spread and opened when they tried to clamp closed, tongue lazily and gently overstimulating her as she came down from her high. 

Blinking into awareness and senses returning to her, she cursed and shoved his head away. Usually she wasn’t this sensitive, but right now, she needed a breather. 

Aonung didn’t seem to mind, if anything he appeared mighty proud of herself and how quickly he got her to break. 

Crawling back up to her, he captured her lips in a messy kiss- licking into her mouth as mercilessly as he’d licked between her thighs. 

As they kissed, Lýn reached between them. She fumbled for a second, but with his help, his tweng was gone, allowing her to take him in her fist- an action that made Aonung grunt and break their connection. 

Forearms planted on either side of her, he stared right into her eyes as she stroked him from root to tip. Over and over. Every time she reached the top, she gathered the moisture dripping from there and dragged it down his length. 

His jaw dropped with a soft “ah” and Ayelýn responded with a sweet sound- as though she wasn't trying to kill him with each squeeze- with each pump. 

Eyes clenching shut, Aonung groaned. Eywa. The pleasure was maddening and when spurts of pre-cum escaped him, he had to stop her. “Fuck. Fuck- Lýn I’m -”

Lýn could feel the tremble in his body. With two more strong strokes she released him, and no sooner had she, his lips were on hers again. 

“Aonung,” she sighed. “Please.”

“What, gorgeous? Hmm? Tell me.”

“I want you,” she begged against his lips, legs wrapping around his waist. 

He reared up onto his knees and stared down at her. “So pretty,” he murmured. Lining himself at her entrance, he pushed in- just the tip. 

Lýn’s moan was music to his ears. 

Aonung watched her body’s reaction to him- watched how well she took him with each slow press, watched her chest heave in anticipation, watched how hard she bit her lip and clenched the mat beneath her. 

Using her hips, he dragged in and out- falling deeper with each measured thrust, stretching her to fit him perfectly. 

“This what you needed, sweetheart?” 

“Ye- ngh!” Her eyes widened and she mewled when he fell over her, propped by one hand as he slid in all the way- right to the hilt. 

Hitching her thigh higher up hip waist, he moved with deliberate thrusts. “Eywa. You always take me so good, gorgeous. Just look at you.” 

Lýn cried out when his angle changed, hitting a place inside of her that had her breathless. 

Aonung himself was losing his mind, muttering words falling from his lips as the pleasure built. 

“Perfect, so perfect,” he said against her temple, lips and nose trailing across her skin as they moved. 

Lýn pressed kisses to his jaw- breath heavy in a pant while clinging to him. 

“There’s only- ah fuck- one thing that could ever make this better.”

His whisper was so quiet, she almost missed it. 

“What?” she asked, body tensing as she felt that telltale sign of release coming. 

His rhythm had become erratic now, pace a little more desperate and demanding. And just as Lýn reached her peak, he emptied inside her, heaving one word that had her coming harder than she ever came in her life…

“Tsaheylu.” 

~

Hello friends! 💛

This is way over due. I'm sorrreh! As a token of my apology, one last part will be released, a little while after this one.

Also, I did not by any means think this part would be so heavy handed with the smut- it just happened... sigh, so much for all that angst I envisioned.

See you at the next ending then!

And as always, please let me know what you think.

~

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes @staymentallystable @neteyamslovrr @melsunshine @tadomikiku

[asterias-record-shop]

Wedding night And #8 for Andrew Garfield?

—𓆩[we go down together]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩[your wedding song ♡]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Husband! Andrew Garfield x Wife! Fem! Pregnant! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - pure fluff and smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.5K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Andrew promised you that he would make sure your wedding was perfect. He didn’t care how much it cost, where it would be, who was invited, as long as he was marrying you. Even then though, as much as he wanted to stick by the rules and not see you on the special day, he sneaks a peak and sees a small little surprise you had just for him.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || I gave you best friends with names inspired by Harry Potter cuz my sister was watching it- || Michaela Jaé Rodriguez and Florence Pugh are now your best friend cuz they’re amazing || I didn’t put the actual wedding ceremony cuz it would’ve taken too long sorry with love 🤍 || I chose a wedding song for you || public oral || public sex || fingering || unprotected sex || creampie || breeding kink || multiple orgasms || pregnant sex || daddy kink || lactation kink || pregnancy kink || this is pure filthy smut I’m so sorry I got carried away- ||

“So, are you going to kick me out now?” Andrew whispered to you, his hands teasing at your hips in an attempt to persuade you into letting him stay the whole night. He thought the superstition was stupid, and to you as well, but your best friends were insisting on it.

Besides, you had a little gift for Andrew you didn’t want him seeing, so it worked out.

You hummed, letting your fingers trail down his bare chest. It was tempting, him and his perfect accent, but no. This was being done for the right reason. “Not yet. You still have a few minutes.”

Andrew sends you his signature lopsided grin. “I can do a lot in a few minutes.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as he leaned forward, kissing you softly with a firm press of his lips. “I know you can baby… I know.”

He grins, raising a brow. “So I can-?”

“It’s 11:55, Andrew, get out!” Your best friend rushed in, grabbing him from the bed and basically dragging him out.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You yelled, sitting up as they paused.

“He can’t see you on your wedding day!” They then proceeded to drag him out, a loud laugh escaping his lips.

“I love you, my sweet girl!”

“I love you too, Andrew!”

The next morning, Andrew knew he wasn’t supposed to see the gift you gave your best friend, a bright blue bag that he had seen around the house but never looked inside because you were yelling exclusively at him not to.

“Look! Isn’t it so cute, I got it custom made,” you pulled out a tiny piece of cloth that he couldn’t see, but it wasn’t like he was trying to whenever he was staring at the beautiful wedding dress you had on. “He’s going to love it, right?”

Maybe it was lingerie, oh he’d love any lingerie you’d put on. It didn’t make sense though, you’d have the lingerie on, underneath that beautiful wedding dress that would’ve had ancestors turning in their graves.

The white fabric was tight on your body, lace overlapping the skin toned fabric that matched yours perfectly to make it seem like the white lace and the intricate beadings and pearls and small white and clear crystals that made it seem like it was dancing on your skin. He inhaled deeply as you turned around, makeup perfect and that perfect white gold ring that had the large diamond created into it made a deep sigh leave his lips, his eyes already watering.

Oh, how could you look so beautiful? You were showing skin and your beautiful form that he had praised for years, mumbling words against your body about how perfect you were.

Fuck, he couldn’t stop staring.

“Andrew!” Your friend saw him still dressed in some sweatpants and a t-shirt, still designer of course, but he still wasn’t dressed in the suit he picked out. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m sorry!” He wiped his eyes quickly as you gasped when Hermione covered your body with her own.

“Get out!” Michaela yells, laughing when she almost trips. “Go!”

Andrew groans dramatically as he walks away, holding back a smile when the door slammed shut. He could hear your laugh, making Andrew look back until Jamie and Charlie walked out.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Jaime was laughing, his tux tight in his body. “Sneaking into her room, naughty Andrew, aren’t you?”

“She has a present for me,” he grinned, looking over at Charlie. “And I’m going to enjoy it so much.”

After the official wedding, it was time for the grand entrance. For your something old, new, borrowed, and blue, there were a lot of things your bridesmaids gave you, but one of your families gave you the chance to get married where they did as their something ‘borrowed’.

The reception was adults only, especially with everyone else being adults and the fact you and Andrew were always pretty physical. For something new, Florence gave you diamond ear cuffs to accentuate your new diamond and sapphire earrings Michaela had given you for something blue. For something old, Andrew’s mother gave you a diamond and white gold tennis bracelet that had been in their family.

“You ready to go inside, baby? It’s our grand entrance,” Andrew pulled away from your lips, his fingers digging into your hips. His lips were swollen, thankfully un-smeared of lipstick because of the makeup artist Andrew got to make sure you looked absolutely perfect. “And they’ve been waiting for like half an hour because I couldn’t get this dress off for a quickie.”

You only giggle, humming softly with a shrug. “They’ve waited this long, they can wait a few more minutes. You just… your mouth is just perfect.”

He grinned. “Oh, is it? Let me see, show me,” he leaned back on the wall, pushing himself into a wall sit position to lean his head back so that you were taller than him. He opened his mouth wide, watching as you leaned down to lick against his tongue, his hands pulling you closer between his legs. You tilt your head, pulling him closer as you tug his head farther up, desperate to taste him more.

He tasted like mint, fresh and cold as you exhaled into his mouth and stroked his hair. You sucked even harder, groaning before a loud scream made you pull back.

“Y/N, Andrew, get your butts inside!” Florence yelled, her accent filling the room as you laughed.

“We’re coming!”

“I hope not!” Michaela yelled, peeking out from inside the main building. “Come on, let’s go!”

Andrew stood up straight, fixing his white suit as you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door. You both slowly walked in, cheers and laughter and music filling your ears as Andrew looked over at you while pulling you to the middle of the dance floor. Your song started playing, that perfect, perfect song. You had started listening to it randomly, and whenever Andrew heard it, you both agreed that it would be a perfect wedding song.

We Go Down Together by Khalid and Dove Cameron fit the two of you. Sometimes you did fight and fall, there were nights filled with sobbing, but as soon as you both saw each other and were pulled into the other's arms; everything went quiet. It went still, soft, the only thing filling the night was each other.

“I’m always going to be here for you, Andrew,” you whisper, stroking the back of his head. “Always and forever. I will be with you forever.”

Andrew inhaled deeply, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “I love you, Y/N. Forever and always. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Right at the end, there was one last thing that you both had to do. The taking off the garter, it was time.

You sat down in the large cushioned chair that made you feel like a queen, your dress that went out at the waist hiked up as everyone around you both cheered. It was hot, extremely hot temperature wise you were surprised your makeup wasn’t dripping down your face, but it was good.

Andrew must have been hot too, his blazer already off and the tie around his neck gone and the top few buttons already unbuttoned. His face was shiny, sheening with sweat as he kneeled down in front of you, unbuttoning his shirt even lower making everyone cheer. He goes under the poofy skirt of your dress, his tongue shamelessly dragging along your thigh as his hands hold your knees apart and a loud squeal leaves your mouth. Everyone cheers, but your mind was focused on his mouth as he licked against your bare cunt exposed by your lingerie, sucking and rubbing his fingers against your slit. Your hands rush to hold his head through your dress, an uncontrollable giggle leaving your lips as he slides a finger inside of your cunt, easily because he was definitely fingering you earlier in the hall.

It doesn’t change the feeling though, his middle finger thrusting into you knuckle deep and his thumb rubbing around your entrance. Teasing around your entrance with his thumb as his teeth graze down your thigh, teasing the lace and chiffon garter. You hold back a whimper and a moan as he slowly takes a hold of it, pulling out his sticky fingers as he gets down to your ankle, slipping the garter off around your heel before coming out from under your skirt with the garter between his teeth.

Oh you truly couldn’t wait for tonight.

When you and Andrew got home, he was carrying you bridal style like he always wanted to. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, laughing as he kicked the door shut and quickly set the alarm before moving to the stairs. “Andrew. Andrew, baby please, I need you, I need you so bad.”

You had been desperate ever since he finger fucked you while taking off your garter, sneaking away to finish it off while everyone was dancing to fuck you with his long digits in the hallway, effectively making you come undone around his fingers while you begged for more.

He laughed, pressing kisses to your neck as he finally made it up, going straight to your shared room’s closed door. “You need me, love? Yeah? I swear to fucking god I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight for the rest of the year baby. I’ll fuck you so much you’ll never forget this night, fill you up with so much cum that you’ll be pregnant by the end of the night.”

You gasped, making him pause after he opened the door, raising a brow. “Y/N, baby, everything alright?”

You looked back inside the room, smiling when you saw the baby blue bag. “Take me inside!” He quickly does as you say, setting you down as you quickly run to the bag, your bare feet padding along the cold wood floor. “Open it!”

“Baby, is everything alright? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just open it!”

He sighs as he slowly sits down on the bed, your hands already undoing the back of your dress and slipping it off easily because Andrew had untied the main knot earlier. You kneeled in front of him, the only thing covering your body was the lingerie that you had underneath your wedding dress. The sight alone made him get distracted, your eyes wide and waiting for him to open the bag that he had seen earlier, face bare of makeup that you had taken off before you both left the venue.

“Andrew!” You whined, a pout on your swollen lips. “Open it!”

“R-Right,” he looks down at the bag, inhaling deeply as he takes out the tissue paper and you giggle. He slowly takes out the fabric, your face falling when he looks at you confused. “What is it?”

“It’s a onesie, Andrew!” You groaned. “Turn it around!”

He did, jaw falling slack when he saw the blue texts underneath the graphic of a swaddled baby, ‘YOU’RE GOING TO BE A DADDY!’

You start to worry when he doesn’t speak, quickly peeking over the onesie to see his eyes red and bloodshot, tears falling down his cheeks. “Oh, Andrew!”

“I’m going to be a dad?” His voice was broken, hoarse as you quickly jumped into his chest, hugging him. “Oh my fucking god, I’m going to be a dad. I’m going to be a daddy, baby, you’re making me a daddy.”

You smiled widely, tears of relief filling your eyes as you slowly pulled the onesie from his grip and pulled him down to press a kiss to your lips. You groaned loudly as his hands quickly hold your hips, pulling you off of the ground as he stood and turned around, easily laying you on the bed before crawling over your body.

His lips trail over your skin, sucking and biting to leave hickies all over your perfect skin. He groaned loudly as your legs spread automatically for him, sitting back to quickly undo his belt and unbutton his pants, fumbling to slip them off making you giggle. He succeeds after a few minutes, ducking back down to kiss against your tits.

“To think these pretty tits are going to be filled with milk for me soon,” he murmured against your nipples, cupping and squeezing at them making your nipples quickly go hard and your back arch. You whined as he sucked on your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as he stared up at you. “You’re going to be a perfect mommy for our babies, darling, but I think as soon as I taste your milk, I’m gonna keep wanting more.”

You whined as his other hand squeezed at your nipple, flicking with his thumb as he continued to suck and abuse the other, groaning. “Dr-Drew, you’re going to be a perfect daddy, you’re going to be the best daddy ever.”

He groans against your tit, lapping against your perky bud with a wink. “Do you think so, baby? I swear, I’m going to love seeing you round with my baby and tits full of milk. Swear, I’m going to be hard all the fucking time seeing you pregnant with my baby. Think I’m going to like seeing you pregnant.”

You whined loudly, hips bucking as your eyes rolled back when he moved to the other tit. “Andrew, Andrew please!”

“Ah ah baby, I’m a daddy now,” he grinned at you, teasing you. “Think you should call me that now.”

This wasn’t something that happened often, but how could you refuse when he looked so fucking proud of himself? “D-Daddy, daddy please. Please, need you to fuck me. Need to be full of your cum, need to feel your cock inside of me.”

He groaned loudly, leaning up to press his mouth to yours, his tongue swirling around your own. It wasn’t even a kiss, his tongue swirling and shoving down your throat as he guided his cock in between your legs, pushing inside of you and swallowing the loud moan that left your mouth.

“Fucking hell, you feel so fucking good, I swear,” he basically growled against your lips, gasping as your nails dragged down his back. “Maybe it’s because you’re growing my child? Could that be it? You’re making me a daddy, gonna be the perfect fucking mother for our children?”

You nodded, mind blurry as you tried to focus on his voice, but the only thing you could think about was his dick. He was slow at first, his cock not foreign inside of you, but the faster his thrusts got, the more you couldn’t focus. “Yes!” You yelled out, the only thing you could even think about. Yes, I’ll be the perfect mother. Yes, I’ll raise your children, yes, yes, yes.

“Swear baby, if it’s going to make you like this, I’m going to keep you pregnant all the fucking time,” he groans, hips moving faster as your head tilted back, mouth lulled open and moans falling out, but your face was so fucked out it looked like you weren’t thinking of anything else but his cock, not even the words coming out of his mouth. “Look at you, baby. I love you darling, I do, but I fucking love when you get all cock obsessed for me. Are you cock obsessed, baby, dick drunk? Hm?”

Your head lulls, nodding as your nails dig into his shoulders, another orgasm close as you speak. “Yes. Yes, daddy, I’ll be pregnant all the time for you! I’ll stay here, ready to get fucked and bred, pumped full of cum to give you babies!”

It was words fully fueled of lust, the smell of sex in the air and the sounds of skin against skin slapping together echoing off the walls fueling both of your fucked out states. It was fully possible you didn’t even know what you were saying, only thinking about his cock, as you were successful all in your own, but there was the chance where you did know what you were talking about and you would sit here pumping babies out for him every nine months just for him to get you pregnant again and again as soon as you’re cleared.

The thought truly did sound fucking amazing. You both knew damn well he could provide for both of you and all of your children, no matter how many you both chose to have.

“Oh yeah, baby? You gonna be a good fucking cumslut, gonna be bred over and over again? Huh? Gonna keep you fucking pregnant, all while you be the perfect fucking mother for each and every one of our spoiled little brats that are going to fucking praise you like a goddess. Gonna fuck you over and over again, not gonna let any drop of cum spill out, keep all of my sperm inside of you so you can get pregnant over and over. You like that? Do you like the thought of having babies over and over again for me?”

His words easily tipped you over the edge, his cock ramming into you over and over again, fucking you like a fleshlight and using your abused hole to please you. The only thought in your mind was the unrealistic image of cum, his cum, spurting out of your cunt, tummy bulging like you were nine months pregnant just from his sperm and tits leaking breast milk that he would devour every minute of the day if he could.

Even if it was unrealistic, he would make it happen if you asked him to.

“Baby, you already came, you squirted all over my cock. What’s going on in that little fucked out brain of yours, hm? Tell me, it better not be the thought of anything other than my cock,” he grunted as he slammed his hips back into you, his hand pushing between the both of you to rub circles against your puffy clit. His other hand grabbed your chin, wiping the drool running down your chin as he forced you to look at him. “Hey baby, I’m right here. Look at me and tell me what you’re thinking about, tell your daddy what you’re thinking about as his cock fucks you so hard and his cum fills you up. Tell me!”

You screamed out, a broken noise leaving your lips as his thrusts get rougher, harder, his fists squeezing at your tits. “I want to stay pregnant for you, daddy! Want to be leaking with your cum every day, want milk to be inside my titles and for you to drink it every day, don’t care how many babies we have as long as you fuck me and fill me and get me pregnant! Want your babies, daddy, want all your cum!”

He lets out a loud, guttural groan into your neck, his hips faltering as he came inside of you, gasping for air as you pant above him. His hands shakily hold your hips, his lips turning soft against your skin as he rolled his hips gently, your hands stroking his back. You finally came down from your high, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“I think… two kids is good.”

“Just two? Thought you wanted more,” he teased at first making you giggle, but he smiled gently at you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “We can have as many as you want. I don’t care, as long as you’re their mother. You will be the best fucking momma, baby, the best mommy to those kids ever.”

You inhaled shakily, smiling up at him with tears running down your cheeks as you leaned up just enough to press a soft kiss to his lips. “And you’re going to be the best daddy. I promise.”

He smiled. “We’ll make amazing parents.”

“We will, Drew. Amazing fucking parents.”

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© asterias-record-shop

[siren-serenity]

ethereal

in which your leona looks more than beautiful at the fairy gala...in your eyes, he's ethereal

characters: leona kingscholar, gn!reader warnings: none a/n: - this was inspired by leona's SSR card vignettes, he's looks- goddamn! - feedback is appreciated!

"Leona-senpai!" Ruggie Bucchi teased his grumpy-looking senior, who rolled his eyes. "Ya look like a fairy when ya'll dolled up, shi shi shi!"

The lion beastman only sighed heavily before toying with the lace and the golden ornaments wrapped around his attire. The golden glitter was laid thickly on every piece of skin shown off to the world, making him seem like he was an angel, glowing even on the bright summer day. However, Leona would to do nothing more but to rip off the itchy, irritating garb but one look from Professor Crewel made him think twice.

"He looks magnificent."

Upon hearing your voice, Leona spun around, ignoring the way his heart fluttered at the thought of you thinking of him in such a way, ignoring how his tail was swaying from side to side (he especially ignored Ruggie's cackling, Jamil's snickering, and Kalim's cheerful remarks), and most of all, the way his cheeks flushed bright red.

"Perfect," He greeted you, smiling gently. Vil clapped his hands, pointing at the lion beastman accusingly.

"See? See?! This is what I'm saying!" Vil threw his arms up in the air and Professor Crewel mirrored him in attitude. An elegant and well-manicured eyebrow was raised at the lion beastman as Professor Crewel nodded. "Leona can definitely smile if he wanted to, but guess who was all grumpy and mopey for the past few hours?"

You couldn't help but hold in a laugh before walking closer. Leona held in a breath when you cupped his chin in your hand, tilting it slightly here and there. The way your (e/c) eyes glimmered and your head eclipsed the overhead lights; it framed you like a halo around an angel.

"How lucky am I," You murmured, only loud enough for Leona to hear. "I have an angel as my lover. Oh, how the Sevens have blessed me today to see such an alluring vision of white."

Leona couldn't help but let out a tiny scoff, gently pushing away your hands but he had never in his life felt so warm, so welcomed, so utterly loved than in your arms. He could only cough and look away, igniting even more laughter from the rest of the group.

"Well, well, well! Leona-senpai, I never knew you could flush so red..." Jamil snickered, hiding a polite smirk behind a raised hand. Kalim nodded in agreement. A puppy-look in his eyes made Leona groan as the ruby-eyed student began to babble.

"You guys look so cute together! When is your anniversary?! I want to give you so many presents! Jamil, what if we gave them hundreds of emeralds and (e/c) jewels for the first day of their anniversary, and then hundreds of pure white doves for the second....OH! Why don't we give them matching thrones and-"

Everyone just blinked at the babbling dorm leader. He was still cheerfully throwing words here and there; Jamil sighed loudly and had to shush him to make him stop.

"Thanks?" You blankly said before shaking your head. You tugged Leona away from the chaos, leading him down the numerous, glamorous hallways of Pomefiore. The lion beastman's shoulders shook with hidden laughter before he tilted his head back and roared carefreely.

"Look at that heir! Why didn't you accept the offer? Matching thrones- pfft-" Leona choked on his breathes, laughing.

"Aww, don't worry darling. After all," You gave him a smile. "you're the king of my heart."

Leona blushed before coughing.

"You can't just say that!" He spluttered but the twitches of his fluffy ears and the pleased swaying of his tail gave his emotions away immediately. You pushed him against the wall, smirking as Leona's eyes widened.

"I'll say it as much as I want to," You breathed out, nuzzling and pressing soft kisses along his neck. Leona groaned, fisting around your biceps. "You're ethereal, my love."

[meadowfics]

red, white, and game over

an american squid game story

last chapter - chapter one - chapter two

summary: venus, a 21-year-old college dropout drowning in debt, enters the american version of squid game. a deadly competition with a $50.1 million prize. desperation drives her to save herself, but she never expects to meet chloe, a tough yet kind person fighting to save their family. together, they face impossible odds, but in the game where betrayal reigns, love might be their greatest risk of all.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: this work is a fan fiction inspired by the netflix original series Squid Game, created by hwang dong-hyuk. all rights to the original concept and characters belong to their respective creators and rights holders. this story is a fictional work based on the original series and includes original characters and settings. this is written purely for entertainment and non-commercial purposes. angst, violence, homicide, mentions of death, descriptions of illness, and reader discretion is advised. I am not responsible for the content you choose to read.

venus's eyes fluttered open to the sight of a high ceiling, its beams crisscrossing above her like the skeleton of a massive warehouse. 

the light was cold and artificial, casting a strange sterile glow over the space. she blinked a few times, her head pounding faintly as she tried to piece together what had happened.  

ven’s first thought was her outfit. the jacket she had been wearing for years was gone, replaced by a dark blue tracksuit that felt rough against her skin. 

she looked down, noticing the number 444 stitched onto the left side of her chest in stark white lettering.  

ven’s brow furrowed. 

“what the hell…?” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible.  

she pushed herself up, her body stiff from the hard mattress of the bunk she realized she was on. looking around, she saw rows upon rows of metal bunks, each one occupied by a person either just waking up like her or already sitting up, their faces painted with confusion and fear.  

venus swung her legs over the edge of her bunk, taking a deep breath to steady herself. the brown eyes of hers gaze swept across the vast room, the sheer number of people making her stomach churn. 

how many were here? dozens? hundreds? the air felt heavy, thick with unease.  

suddenly, music began to play.  

venus froze as the strange, jaunty tune filled the space, its tone unnervingly out of place. it was the kind of music she might have heard in an old 2000s cartoon, the cheerful notes clashing with the cold, industrial atmosphere of the warehouse.  

the woman’s sight darted to the front of the room, where a stage stood, its purpose unclear. something about it set her teeth on edge.  

still sitting, venus shifted her position and leaned against the ladder of her bunk. her thoughts raced, but nothing made sense.  

“do you know what’s going on?”  

venus turned her head sharply at the sound of a voice, her eyes landing on a girl standing nearby. she was black, with neatly done box braids that framed her face, her features soft yet striking. 

the number 127 was stitched onto her jacket, mirroring venus’s own.  

the girl’s expression was tense, her dimples barely visible as her brows knitted in worry.  

venus hesitated, swallowing hard before responding. 

“no, not really.”  

the girl gave a small nod, her lips pressing together as though she had been hoping for a better answer.  

venus pushed herself to her feet, descending the ladder cautiously. the cold floor met her sneakers as she stepped onto the ground, her legs still unsteady.  

she glanced around once more, scanning the faces of the people gathered near the center of the room. whispers and murmurs filled the air, their confusion mirroring her own.  

venus took a deep breath, forcing herself to step forward, joining the others. whatever this was, she had to figure it out. and fast.  

the woman’s legs drifted toward a cluster of older women, their faces etched with lines that hinted at lives far from easy. some appeared to be in their 40s, others closer to their 50s, their tracksuits fitting awkwardly over bodies that had clearly endured their own struggles. 

venus didn’t know why she gravitated to this group—maybe because their presence felt steadier, calmer, in contrast to the frantic energy buzzing around the room.  

the brown eyes of hers scanned the sea of people, taking in the overwhelming variety. it was the first thing that struck her.. how different everyone looked.  

there was a tall man with broad shoulders and a scruffy beard, his tracksuit unzipped halfway as though he didn’t care. 

a petite woman stood nearby, her blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her nervous energy radiating in the way she kept shifting from foot to foot.  

venus’s gaze landed on another man, this one younger, maybe in his 20s, with bright blue hair and piercings scattered across his face. a silver hoop hung from his eyebrow, a stud gleamed in his nose, and his lip ring shifted as he muttered something to the man beside him.  

a middle-aged hispanic woman stood off to the side, her dark hair streaked with gray and tied back into a loose braid. next to her was a wiry asian man with glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his expression unreadable.  

venus kept scanning—black, white, asian, hispanic, tall, short, fat, skinny, blond, brunette, and everything in between. no two people looked the same.  

it shouldn’t have surprised her. this was the united states, after all. a melting pot, they called it. but here, in this room, with everyone dressed in identical dark blue tracksuits, the diversity felt stark.  

each face carried its own story, its own reason for being here. venus could see it in the way they held themselves, in the way some stared at the floor, others glanced around nervously, and a few crossed their arms in defiance, as though daring someone to explain what the hell was going on.  

venus folded her arms and leaned back slightly, trying to make herself smaller in the overwhelming crowd. whatever this was, it wasn’t normal. and yet, there they all were.. so different, but bound together by whatever force had brought them to this strange, surreal place.  

she caught snippets of whispered conversations as she stood there, fragments of words carried by the uneasy murmurs that filled the room.  

“what is this?”  

“where are we?”  

“they took my phone…”  

“is this some kind of sick joke?”  

venus pressed her lips together, her unease growing with every passing second. this wasn’t just some random coincidence. whoever had orchestrated this had gone out of their way to gather people from every walk of life.  

the thought made her stomach churn. whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t going to be good.  

a loud, mechanical groan cut through the uneasy murmurs, echoing off the walls of the warehouse like space. venus snapped her head toward the source of the noise, her heart jumping in her chest.

 the massive door on the stage slid open with a heavy clank, revealing a group of guards marching in perfect unison.  

the guards wore identical pink suits, their faces obscured by smooth masks adorned with simple shapes.. circles, triangles, squares. none of them carried visible weapons, though the sight of their synchronized movements and eerie composure was enough to make venus’s skin crawl.  

she tried to calm herself, taking a deep breath and reminding herself that they didn’t look armed. still, the unsettling uniformity of it all made her stomach twist.  

the guards walked in precise formation, their boots hitting the ground with an almost mechanical rhythm. the one in the center, slightly taller than the others, seemed to radiate an aura of authority. venus couldn’t help but wonder: who were they behind those masks? were they just ordinary people, like her?  

did they apply for this job? is there a listing for ‘creepy pink-suited guard’ somewhere on indeed? she thought bitterly, trying to suppress her rising fear.  

around her, the other participants were frozen, their faces a mixture of terror and curiosity. venus glanced to her left and noticed a woman standing nearby.. a biracial lightskin woman like herself, with curly hair tied back in a bun. the fear on her face was unmistakable, her number.. 200.. tark against the dark blue of her tracksuit.  

venus’s gaze returned to the front, where the tall guard in the middle stepped forward. the silence in the room was suffocating as everyone waited for him to speak.  

“i would like to extend a heartfelt welcome to you all,” the man said, his voice monotone and distorted. venus’s stomach dropped.. there had to be some kind of voice manipulator in the mask, turning his words robotic and cold.  

“everyone here will participate in six different games over the course of six days,” he continued. 

“those who win all six games will receive a huge cash prize.”  

venus swallowed hard, her throat dry. she felt the weight of the words sink in, her mind spinning with questions.  

before anyone could process what had been said, a boy’s voice cut through the silence, loud and angry.  

“why the hell should we believe you?” the boy yelled, his voice laced with panic and defiance. he couldn’t have been older than nineteen, his lanky frame tense as he glared at the guards. 

“you drugged us in the van and took all our stuff to put us in here. this shit is sketchy!”  

venus glanced at him, noting his sharp features and the unmistakable accent that screamed new york or new jersey.  

“he’s right!” another voice chimed in. a blonde girl, maybe venus’s age, stepped forward, her arms crossed defiantly. she looked like the epitome of the all-american girl… blue eyes, soft waves cascading down her shoulders, and an air of confidence that made venus wonder how someone like her had ended up here.  

“how are you going to pay us?” the blonde asked, her voice steady but tinged with suspicion. 

“we’re in some weird-ass warehouse. this doesn’t exactly scream ‘legitimate.’”  

venus glanced at the guards, her curiosity momentarily outweighing her fear. the boy and the blonde girl weren’t wrong.. everything about this was off. however, the promise of money… it was impossible to ignore.  

the tall guard tilted his head slightly, as if acknowledging the outbursts. “the measures we took were necessary to ensure the confidentiality of this location and our identities,” he explained, his tone unwavering and clinical.  

venus clenched her fists at her sides, her mind racing. the words were meant to calm them, to rationalize the situation, but they only made her feel more trapped.  

the woman’s gaze darted around the room, catching the wide eyes and furrowed brows of those around her. the tension in the air was thick enough to choke on, and venus couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in her gut.  

“can you at least give us a reason as to why we should trust you?” a voice broke through the tense silence, clear and sharp.  

venus’s gaze shifted toward the source.. a woman with curly hair, standing a few paces ahead. the expression was a mix of defiance and fear, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as though she were trying to hold herself together.  

venus noticed the faint indentations on the bridge of the girl’s nose, the kind left behind by glasses. 

she must’ve been wearing them before they took our stuff, venus thought absently.  

the woman’s tone was firm, but there was a slight quiver in her voice, betraying the uncertainty she was trying to hide.  

the tall guard in the center turned his head toward her slowly, his mask unreadable. the motion was deliberate, calculated, as though he were sizing her up.  

“trust,” he said, his distorted voice echoing through the room, “is something you will have to decide for yourselves.”  

venus felt her stomach churn at the non-answer. it wasn’t comforting. it wasn’t anything.  

the medium toned girl with the curly hair frowned, her brows knitting together. 

“that’s not an answer,” she said, her voice rising slightly.  

venus caught the way a few others nodded in agreement, their murmurs rippling through the crowd like a rising tide. the tension was growing, the fragile thread of control in the room threatening to snap.  

"player 099, chloe dan chapman," the guard’s distorted voice echoed through the room, cutting through the murmurs like a knife.  

venus’s head snapped toward the source of the announcement just as the lights dimmed, casting long shadows over the warehouse. above them, a large screen flickered to life, showing grainy footage of a woman sitting across from the professional-looking man venus had met in the parking lot playing heads or tails.  

her stomach twisted. 

wait, that man was recording us?

the video played out in stark detail: the coin flipping through the air, chloe’s hesitant choice, the stack of hundred-dollar bills on the table. venus couldn’t tear her eyes away, even as the weight of realization settled heavily on her chest.  

the guard’s voice broke the silence again, clinical and detached. 

“age 26, former corporate employee at tesla,” he stated. 

“you fell for a scam that caused you to lose everything, on top of your parents currently fighting for their lives on life support, which takes any money you’re able to make. current debt: 4.1 million dollars.”  

venus swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to chloe, who stood frozen in place. the light from the screen illuminated her face, her expression one of deep shame. the woman’s head dipped forward, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her circumstances now laid bare for everyone to hear.  

venus felt a pang of sympathy rise in her chest. she didn’t know this girl, but hearing her story hit too close to home.  

the guard moved on, their voice cold and methodical as they began rattling off more names and debts, faster this time, like a grim roll call.  

“player 361, addison king, 278 thousand in debt.”  

“player 134, mia shim, 1.2 million in debt.”  

“player 299, booker brown, 10 million in debt.”  

“player 369, quinn davidson, 937 thousand in debt.”  

“player 002, penelope michaels, 500 thousand in debt.”  

“player 450, xavi roberto, 437 thousand in debt.”  

venus felt the tension in the room grow with every name, every number. the sheer scale of debt these people carried was staggering. some faces flushed with embarrassment, others grew pale, and a few hardened, as though trying to shield themselves from the judgment of strangers.  

venus held her breath, every muscle in her body tensing as she waited for her own name to be called.  

the guard stopped.  

venus exhaled softly, relief washing over her in a small, fleeting wave… her business, her struggles, her shame.. remained her own, at least for now. she glanced around, catching glimpses of the others, their expressions ranging from fear to humiliation to outright anger.  

the brown eyes of hers lingered on chloe again, the woman’s head still bowed, her hands clenched tightly into fists. venus wondered if chloe’s debt had pushed her to a breaking point, just as hers had.  

“every person in this room is living on the brink of financial ruin,” the guard’s distorted voice carried on, the tone cold and emotionless. “you all have debts that you cannot pay off.”  

venus clenched her fists. the guard wasn’t wrong, but hearing it said out loud like that.. like they were nothing more than numbers, burdens to society.. made her stomach churn. her mind, however, drifted to the one question she couldn’t shake.  

how much money? 

the thought of winning, of finally giving juni a life that wasn’t weighed down by constant worry and hunger, had been her driving force since she dialed that number. but she realized now that no one had told them the prize.  

“wait!” venus called out, her voice sharp and louder than she intended.  

heads turned in her direction, dozens of pairs of eyes landing on her at once. ven’s throat tightened instinctively, but the weight of their stares wasn’t enough to stop her. not this time.  

she glanced briefly around the room, taking in the mix of curiosity and confusion etched on the faces staring back at her. if this were any other situation, the attention would’ve sent her spiraling into anxiety. but right now, she needed to know.  

“how much money do we win,” she asked, her voice firm, 

“if we win all six games?”  

venus shifted her gaze toward the stage, her expression determined, before glancing at chloe out of the corner of her eye.  

chloe was already looking at her, her head tilted slightly, the hint of something unreadable in her eyes. venus offered a light smile, an almost automatic response, before turning her full attention back to the guard.  

the guard’s mask tilted forward slightly, acknowledging her question. for a moment, the room felt impossibly still, everyone holding their breath for the answer.  

“the amount will only be revealed after the first game is completed.”  

venus rolled her eyes, the annoyance bubbling up in her chest. all of that build-up, all of that curiosity, for nothing. she let out a small huff, crossing her arms as she leaned back slightly on her heels.  

the guard continued, explaining that all players needed to sign papers.. though he deliberately avoided using the word contracts. the explanation was curt and vague, but the message was clear: no signing papers, no games, no money.  

venus didn’t waste time. as people began to shuffle toward the front where the papers were laid out, she moved quickly, slipping past the slower ones so she wouldn’t have to stand in line forever.  

she was about halfway through the line when a voice called out from behind her.  

“what are you here for?”  

venus turned, expecting a woman based on the soft, feminine tone, but was instead met with a taller boy. a stereotypical twink is what people might have described him in the american media. the blue hair caught her attention first, matching the shade of their tracksuits perfectly.  

his number, 057, was printed neatly on his chest.  

venus smiled faintly, shrugging. 

“very long story.”  

the boy.. cyrus, as he later introduced himself, smirked. 

“the way this line is moving? i think we’ve got time.”  

venus laughed despite herself, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. 

“debt from funeral costs and hospital bills,” she mumbled after a moment, her tone softer now.  

cyrus tilted his head, the smirk on his face dimming. 

“well, at least you didn’t fall into a scam like i did.” he extended his hand toward her. 

“i’m cyrus.”  

venus shook his hand lightly, her eyes catching on the details of his nails. cyrus’ fingernails were painted a soft, baby pink, with a bold red heart painted on the ring finger of each hand.  

“i’m venus,” she replied with a small smile.  

cyrus grinned. 

“woah, cool name.”  

venus glanced back at his nails, still holding his hand lightly. 

“cool nails,” she said, admiring the design.  

“thanks girlie,” cyrus replied, his grin widening before letting her hand go.  

venus turned back to face the line just in time to realize she was near the front, her stomach tightened slightly as she stepped forward, her eyes locking onto the guard stationed at the table. 

the square-shaped mask they wore somehow made them even more intimidating, their stance rigid and unyielding.  

venus’s gaze dropped to the papers on the table. she leaned in slightly, reading over the bold, neatly printed text.  

#1: players cannot back out of the games at any time.

#2: if a player refuses to play, they will be eliminated.

#3: if the majority agree to stop playing the games, then the games will end.  

venus frowned, her eyes lingering on the word eliminated. the word felt heavy, ominous, but she tried to rationalize it. 

they probably just mean sent home without the money, she thought. 

that’s all.

still, she read the document twice, the uneasy feeling in her gut refusing to settle.  

the guard’s presence behind the table didn’t help. their mask, their silence, their sheer stillness..it all made the process feel so much more ominous than it should have been.  

venus hesitated for a moment longer before finally picking up the pen. with a shaky hand, she scrawled a simple v. f. on the line at the bottom.  

she set the pen down, stepping back from the table with a deep breath. 

an hour later.. not long after the last person signed their papers, the guards began herding all 501 players out of the warehouse room like cattle. venus kept close to the middle of the group, her eyes darting around as they were funneled into what felt like an entirely different world.  

the walls were covered in vibrant, almost childlike patterns.. bright blues, yellows, and pinks clashed with geometric designs that twisted and turned up a labyrinth of stairs. venus craned her neck, following the zigzagging paths that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. 

the playful colors felt disorienting, almost mocking, in contrast to the serious, foreboding atmosphere that hung over the group.  

venus stood behind a shorter black woman, who had her arms crossed tightly, her movements careful and measured as they stopped in front of another set of stairs.  

“this place is huge,” a man muttered from somewhere behind her. his voice was gruff, tinged with exhaustion. he sounded like he was in his forties, sounded since venus did not bother to turn around to see what he looked like. 

she silently agreed with him though. the scale of this place was overwhelming.  

as the line moved forward, a robotic voice rang out, its cheerful tone clashing with the tension in the air. 

“please look into the camera, smile!”  

venus’s eyes snapped forward, her brows furrowing.  

ahead of her, players were stopping one by one in front of a pink wall where a camera was mounted. she watched as the people ahead of her plastered on nervous, awkward smiles, their expressions caught in the quick flash of the camera.  

venus’s stomach churned. 

wtf? she thought, her eyes narrowing.

why do they need our pictures?

she shook her head, forcing herself to stop overthinking. 

you’re asking too many questions, venus. focus on getting through this.

when it was her turn, venus stepped forward reluctantly. the pink wall loomed in front of her, bright and artificial. the camera’s lens stared back at her like a cold, unblinking eye.  

she hesitated for a moment before forcing a light smile onto her face.. just enough to look neutral, neither too happy nor too angry. the flash went off, momentarily blinding her, and the robotic voice chimed again.  

“thank you! next!”  

venus stepped aside, rubbing her arms as she fell back into line. she glanced briefly at the shorter black woman in front of her, wondering if she felt the same unease venus did.  

what the hell have i gotten myself into? venus thought, her jaw tightening as they were led further into the strange, labyrinthine space. the colors, the patterns, the cheerful robotic voice.. it all felt like a twisted parody of something innocent.  

she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was coming next wasn’t going to feel innocent at all.  

because it was far from innocent.  

venus stood among the other players in a field like space, the air tense. the vibrant colors and playful design from earlier were gone, replaced by a flat, open field that stretched to a towering wall in the distance. 

at the far end stood a massive doll, easily twelve feet taller than her, its unsettling face frozen in a blank, lifeless stare. beside it, two guards stood as still as statues, their pink suits and masks adding to the eerie atmosphere.  

a strange, creeping unease settled in venus’s gut.  

to her right, just a few feet away, venus spotted cyrus, his blue hair was hard to miss, and though he stood upright, she could see his foot tapping anxiously against the ground. 

he was nervous yet confused. they all were.  

suddenly, a feminine voice echoed overhead, robotic yet childlike. venus couldn’t tell if it was coming from the doll or some unseen speaker system. the voice explained the rules of red light, green light. 

venus’s breath caught in her chest. she knew the game. everyone did. it was a simple childhood game, one she used to play with her friends in the days before her life fell apart. back then, the stakes were bragging rights or maybe a teasing dare. 

now, standing here, she had a sinking feeling the stakes were something much darker for the amount of money she wants to win for juni.  

“green light,” the voice called out.  

the doll’s head swiveled unnaturally to face the wall behind them, its motion stiff and mechanical. venus hesitated before stepping forward, her feet moving automatically as the group surged ahead together. she counted her steps.. one, two, three, four, five, six—and froze.  

“red light.”  

venus stood completely still, her breath caught in her throat, her muscles tensed as though even the smallest twitch might set something off. the brown eyes of hers darted around cautiously, scanning the players near her without moving her head.  

the woman’s gaze landed on cyrus again, his body was contorted in an awkward position, his left foot forward, his right foot back. 

she noticed his hands trembling slightly, his face a mask of concentration.  

then, in the silence, he cringed, his body jolting.  

“shit, foot cramp,” he muttered under his breath, but the quiet made his words ring out loudly.  

venus’s heart stopped as she watched him hop slightly on one foot, his balance faltering.  

then it happened.  

*bang*

a deafening bang tore through the air, breaking the silence like glass shattering. venus flinched, her eyes widening as she saw it.. a bullet, sharp and quick, piercing through cyrus’s head. 

his body collapsed to the ground, crumpling in a way that didn’t seem real.  

venus’s brain couldn’t process what she was seeing.  

then came the scream.  

the girl beside cyrus, maybe venus’s age, let out a blood curdling shriek, her hands flying to her face… her panic was short-lived. another bang sounded, and the girl was struck in the chest, her body crumpling like a broken doll.  

chaos erupted.  

players began to run, their survival instincts taking over as they tried to flee the field. the moment they moved, the loud, echoing bangs returned. one by one, bodies dropped to the ground as bullets tore through them.  

venus’s breath hitched as a man sprinted past her, desperation written all over his face. before he could take another step, a bullet hit him in the neck.

blood sprayed out in an arc, some of it landing warm and sticky on venus’s cheek.  

she didn’t move. she couldn’t.  

all around her, screams filled the air, blending with the relentless gunfire. people fell like dominoes, their bodies hitting the ground with sickening thuds. blood pooled in the dirt, staining the field in streaks of red.  

venus’s chest heaved as she stood frozen, her mind screaming at her to stay still. her muscles ached from the tension, but she didn’t dare move an inch.  

what the fuck did i get myself into?

her eyes darted to the massive doll, its head slowly turning back toward the field. the cheery, childlike voice called out again, oblivious to the carnage.  

“i will explain the rules again.”  

venus’s stomach twisted violently, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin. she felt bile rise in her throat as she stared straight ahead, trying to hold herself together.  

again? she thought, her mind racing. 

why do they need to repeat it? i think we get it. 

she didn’t say a word. her jaw clenched, her fists curling so tightly her nails bit into her palms. the weight of what she’d just witnessed..the blood, the chaos, the death.. was crushing her.  

venus’s chest heaved as she forced herself to stay still, her legs trembling. she wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything to shake the oppressive fear that had rooted itself deep inside her.  

instead, she swallowed hard and braced herself for whatever came next, hoping her body wouldn’t betray her when the game began again.  

chapter two here

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 ★ || b.c

★ summary: celebrating a first anniversary as a married couple has to be special. too bad chan was called into work right in the middle of his dinner with his husband, y/n. y/n understands, he really does, but this is their first anniversary for crying out loud. y/n sends chan off with a bitter smile and an idea in his head. chan deserves a night of relaxation for being such a hardworking husband.

★ characters: bang chan, y/n

★ warnings: semi-fluffy, very nasty, chan calls reader a pretty boy, some language but not a lot, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

★ word count: ~1.8K words

★ requested?: yep, thanks a lot anon!

★ binnie's thoughts: this was requested by a lovely anon, and i originally planned to get one of my wips out first, but this request literally plagued my dreams,,, so enjoy!

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!

As soon as you heard the door close and the familiar sound of the locks being turned, you quickly began to clean up the remains for your supposedly romantic dinner with a heavy heart. Of course you understand that Chan’s line of work can be demanding, but it is your first anniversary as a married couple. 

The wedding was truly one-of-a -kind. It was small, with your parents attending as well as Chan’s own parents and siblings, and the other members of Stray Kids being present. The remaining seven members argued who was going to be Chan’s best man, each one of them spouting the generous things they have all done for their leader. Chan wrangled his kids and told them they could all be his best men. All of them gave each other pointed looks before agreeing. Sweet little Jeongin didn’t want to be Chan’s best man, he actually wanted to be yours. And what kind of monster would you be if you said no to his sweet smile and shining eyes? 

You and Chan met in high school, with you being a foreign exchange student, there was a heavy language barrier, so you didn’t really have many friends. You often sat alone in the classroom at lunch, until Chan came and pulled a chair up to your desk. When you looked up to see who was sitting by you, your jaw dropped. A mop of curly, dark mahogany hair and round eyes to match greeted you. Chan looked at you with a bright smile, his eyes crinkling and disappearing. You both introduced yourselves and the rest is pretty much history.

 You followed Chan everywhere he went, you stuck by his side through it all. His debut, the hours upon hours of grueling training. You called him every night while he was away on various tours and interviews, you would stay up late with him on the phone while he continued to work, his insomnia getting the best of him. He told you that your snores were like a soothing white noise to him. That statement earned him a slap on the arm. 

You smile to yourself as you wash the dishes. Your husband is so hardworking, always thinking of others before himself, not once complaining about having to do multiple things at once. But you can tell that it's taking a toll on him. He still smiles, but it’s not as bright or as often, and you frown, deciding that your husband needs a night of pure relaxation. 

After finishing with the dishes and cleaning up any other mess you see, you venture into your bedroom. You make your way to the bathroom and run a bath for yourself. You strip out of your comfy clothes and sink into the water, letting out a sigh at the feeling. You quickly trim your growing bush and make sure your skin is nice and soft for your husband. After your bath, you wrap a towel around your damp body and contemplate what to wear. 

Chan is a simple man, he thinks you look good in anything, whether it’s nothing at all or a trash bag. His libido isn’t very high but he can’t resist you, he thinks you’re the sexiest being to ever walk the Earth, and he has no problem telling you so. The two of you are very affectionate, so sex is usually soft and vanilla, but tonight you think it’s time to spice it up just a tad. You dig around in your shared closet and eventually pull out a small plastic bag containing something you bought so long ago. You planned to wear them one day, but the timing was never right, so you ultimately tossed the bag deep in the closet and forgot about it for about two years. 

Pulling the small box out of the plastic bag, you examine it carefully. A pretty black box with red ribbon wrapped around it, the store’s logo plastered on the side of the box. You untie the ribbon and lift the lid off the box. The black fabric blinks back at you, and you carefully grip the fabric in your hands. You carefully take the garments out of the box and you let your towel fall from your body. Taking a seat on the bed, you lift your leg and slide the black thigh-high stockings onto your limb. You like the way the band tightens around your plush thigh, the flesh pillowing around it. You slide on the second one and walk to your vintage full-length mirror. You move your legs in different positions, enjoying the way the stockings look against your skin tone. 

What you fail to notice is the figure standing behind you, leaning against the door frame of your bedroom. Chan’s eyes roam your naked body, his bottom lip between his teeth. Chan clears his throat, chuckling as he watches your frame jump in surprise, a startled gasp falling from your mouth. You quickly cover yourself up as you whip around to look at Chan with warm cheeks. He was supposed to be gone for at least two hours, so what the hell is he doing at home right now?

As if he could read your mind, Chan speaks up, “It was an easy fix, Changbin couldn’t figure out the right melody and Jisung was absolutely no help.”

“Oh, well. Uh, that’s good,” you mutter, quickly becoming more aware of the way Chan is looking at you right now.

“So, what’s this, hm? Is this a part of our anniversary?” Chan takes a step towards you, his eyes not leaving your face for a second. You look like a deer in headlights, eyes blown wide and your lips becoming red from nervous chewing. 

You simply nodded, not really trusting your voice to reply for you. You slowly uncover your lower body, allowing Chan to see the half-hard on you’re sporting. Chan takes a few shorts steps towards you and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard chest. 

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

The next thing you feel is your body being lifted up and dropped onto the bed. You let out a soft yelp of surprise as you watch Chan lift his shirt up and over his head, tossing the item behind him. He grabs both of your legs, running his hands along the soft fabric covering your skin. He spreads the limbs a little as he leans down until he’s face to face with your dick. He places soft kisses to your inner thighs, causing little goose bumps to form across your arms and the back of your neck. 

“My husband is such a pretty boy, wearing these stockings just for me, huh?” Chan says, his warm breath fanning against your dick, causing it to twitch a bit. 

“Mmh, yes, Channie,” you answer, your hands gripping the duvet below you, your teeth toying with your bottom lip as you look at the gorgeous man in between your legs.

“Then I guess I better give this pretty boy a nice reward for doing something so nice for me,” with that, Chan’s tongue comes out and licks a long stripe from your puckered rim all the way to the tip of your dick.

The slurping sounds are loud in your ears as Chan uses his tongue to stretch your hole for him. He hums against your hole as his large hand jerks you off in tandem. You let out whines and little chants of Chan’s name, which only makes him want more. Your body is twitching and a light layer of sweat covers your skin. 

You’re so close to your release and Chan knows. Not wanting the moment to be ruined so quickly, he pulls away from your body. He gives you a smirk as he lifts his body up to remove the remainder of his clothes. Once Chan is as bare as the day he was born, he uses his hand to get himself to full hardness. As you watch him, a lightbulb goes off in your head. 

“Channie, I have an idea,” you call to him softly, your eyes zeroed in on his form. 

“Oh? What’s on your mind, darling?”

“Since I have these pretty stockings on, why don’t you fuck my thighs?” you try to keep your voice as soft and innocent as possible, and you push your plush thighs together for effect. 

Chan lets out the most delicious groan you have ever heard from him. “Darling, you always have the best ideas,” Chan praises you, and he walks towards your body, his hand on your knee.

Chan parts your thighs a bit, slipping his dick in between them. He tips his head back at the feeling, and he closes your thighs around his dick. He gives an experimental thrust, the soft fabric rubbing on his length in the best way. You love seeing your husband like this, blissed out and the usual furrow of his eyebrows long gone. 

Chan picks up the pace, the force of his hips hitting your ass causing your body to bounce up and down. Chan leans over you, capturing your lips with his, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, licking all in your mouth. Chan loves sloppy kisses, something about swapping spit with you makes the man go absolutely crazy. 

It isn’t long before Chan’s hips begin to skip and stutter, a telltale sign that he’s reaching his release. His moans and groans turn into whimpers and whines as he chants your name over and over. His curls are sticking to his head as the heat of your activities fills the room. 

“Can I cum on your pretty stockings, darling? I promise I’ll buy you a new pair, please let me cum on them,” Chan whines in your ear, his thrusts becoming irregular as he chases his release. 

“Yes, gods yes, Channie,” you answer him, your own release coming up fast. You wrap your arms around your husband, your grip on him nice and tight, just how he likes it. 

It isn’t much longer until Chan spills all over your thighs and a little on our stomach. He cries out in pleasure, his head tipped all the way back, his strong neck exposed to you. You finish after him, your own release splashing onto his abs and a bit on his chest. 

The two of you come down from your highs, just reveling in the embrace of one another. You’re both freshly washed, a movie playing on the television in front of you. Chan lets out a content hum. You’re massaging his shoulders and neck, helping the man get the knots out of his muscles. He loves receiving a massage after the two of you share an intimate moment together, and tonight is no different. You would do anything for your hardworking husband.