#but not melting my face off which is what I want to accomplish

[noirapocalypto]

My edibles don’t hit as hard as they used to.

[kenobers]

is this love? | jason todd x sionis!reader

but first free palestine !! You started hooking with Jason Todd, the second eldest Wayne child, so that both of you could royally piss off your father, Roman Sionis. Now that you've accomplished that, you're still hooking up. And spending the night. Frankly, you are quite sure what this is anymore. But you know you like it. tw: Post-sex setting, brief description of sexual activity, reader has a lot of anxiety and was maybe homeschooled as a child, mentions of poor father-daughter relationships, fem!afab!reader a/n: Surprise, I like Jason Todd too. This was inspired by this ask on gliverrwrites' blog! In hindsight, it might've been kinda weird of me, but i couldn't get the concept out of my head. thank you to gliverr and anon! please check out their blog!

There was no greater "Fuck You" you could give your father than the sigh of satisfaction that escaped your lips as your head hit the pillow.

However, Roman Sionis and all his misdeeds had been wiped from your mind in favor of the man panting above you.

You were certain that there was no work of art more beautiful than Jason Todd at this very moment. His green eyes flashed before fluttering shut, no doubt following suit with his head as it rolled back. The shock of white hair had been made curly by sweat and the comb of your fingers. His mouth hung open and uttered a string of praises for you - although the only coherent words you could make out were "good" and "beautiful". Still, they passed like poetry through his lips, which were puffy and delightfully red from contact with your own.

It was so polite of him to let you cum first so you could witness this masterpiece. Even if it was through your own post-Jason haze.

Jason's forehead came to rest on yours as his hips stuttered against yours and an all too familiar warmth coated your thigh. You took the opportunity to brush wet black and white strands of hair out of his handsome face. His eyes peered open again as he caught your hand in his own. For a moment, you expected him to smack it away, but instead he brought your palm to his lips and kissed it.

"My beautiful girl."

Even when he had melted the rest of your naked body into jelly, he still managed to turn your stomach into butterflies.

Now he pressed a kiss between your eyebrows.

"Gimme just one second, baby," he panted before rolling off of you. You sighed again as cool air hit your sticky skin, however, an anxious knot began to form in your stomach as your lover disappeared into the bathroom.

What if he left out the window? What if you never saw him again? What if this was just a one time thing to get back at your father for the countless number of things he'd done to Jason's family?

But it would be incredibly silly if he did all this just to leave you in his apartment, especially considering this was far from the first time you'd slept together. Besides, wasn't the should-be-enemies-with-benefits what you had wanted this whole time?

You turned on your side to watch him in the bathroom, subconsciously rubbing the slick between your thighs together. Jason swore as his toe collided with something. You giggled as you realized it was his Red Hood mask, the gleaming metal winking at you in the yellow light.

Jason glanced over his broad shoulder and grinned at the sound of your giggles. He brushed his sticky hair back, giving you a prime view of his sharp canine. You shivered thinking about the mark it had left on your neck earlier. He turned the faucet on and ran something under it, then turned back to you, flicking the bathroom light off.

He really was an imposing man, you noted. 6'2 and built like an ox. To you, he looked like a statue with the way the moonlight streaming though the window illuminated his bare hip and ribs, painting them a comforting shade of blue. If he hadn't just fucked you silly, you would've imagined how scary he must be to a criminal in a dark alley.

The bed dipped as your statue sat beside you. He gently rolled you back onto your back, then began rubbing your thighs down with a warm washcloth.

"You feeling alright, doll?"

He must've asked that a handful of times while he had your legs hooked over his shoulder. You couldn't recall a time when anyone else had checked in with you during or after sex.

You nodded, only to have your words replaced with a sharp hiss as the washcloth brushed over your still sensitive pussy. The administrations stopped abruptly.

"Sorry, baby," Jason apologized, although he couldn't hide the amusement on his face. "I'll be gentler next time."

You snorted, "don't go making threats now."

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. Heat rose to your face as you tasted yourself on his soft lips. You let out a whine when he parted and rose again.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin' back. Hold your horses, lady," he teased, waving his hand dismissively. You rolled your eyes playfully. Like he had any room to judge someone for their dramatics.

He wiped himself down with the washcloth before dropping it in his hamper, where your torn panties hung over the side. He'd promised to buy you a much more expensive pair to make up for it. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxes and tossed you a pair.

You sat up and just as you had wriggled them over your hips, Jason was ready with one of his t-shirts. You put your arms up and let him slid the worn fabric over your torso - not missing the way his eyes stopped to admire the way Black Canary's logo looked over your bare chest.

"You sure you're alright? You're so quiet," Jason asked, sliding in next to you. You laid back, resting your head against his chest as you breathed in the lingering scent of sex, leather and aftershave. His skin was soft beneath your finger tips, their smooth path only interrupted by a patch of hair or a scar.

You remembered the first time you'd hooked up with him, before you had accidentally caught him with the Red Hood mask. You assumed the autopsy scars were some sort of dark humor tattoo. You told yourself you couldn't catch feelings for a guy with a weird ass tattoo like that.

And now you were still in his bed. Wearing his shirt. And his underwear. Knowing his secret identity. With plans to get breakfast in the morning.

At what point had this gone beyond simply pissing off Roman Sionis? Both you and Jason had just wanted to get back at your father by fucking in his warehouses. But now you had your own space on his bathroom counter. You were staying the night after sex. You whined when he pulled away from you.

Above all else, he was so kind to you. But beneath the sarcasm and snark, he had been kind from the get-go. It was you that had acted like a rotten, spoiled brat. The more time you spent with him, the softer you got.

Jason squeezed your shoulder lightly, murmuring your name. You looked up at him dumbly. His brows were furrowed in concern as he ran the tip of his finger over your cheekbone.

"What's the matter, bub?"

You shook your head.

"'m just tired. And lost in thought, I guess."

"Oh?" He hummed, brushing your jawline. "Whatcha thinkin' about, pretty girl."

You pretended to think for a moment.

"Hmm, just about how tired I am. Ya really know how to wear a woman out, Todd."

"Well, if I recall correctly, you said-"

"I know what I said!" you cut him off with a mock defensiveness, pretending to smack his chest as he snickered. Once more, he covered your hand with his own large one, this time pressing it to his heart.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other's touch. You started to wonder if this is what love felt like; safe and warm and blissed out. You tried to push the thought out of your mind.

"Seriously though," Jason said, his voice low. "Did I go too far tonight? Are you actually okay?"

If you had been anyone else's daughter, you were certain that you would've started crying.

"I'm...I was just thinking..." you took a breath. In your defense, this kind of tender-love-and-care wasn't in your DNA. "I'm just...I'm lucky to have you, Jaybird."

"This isn't about to be a 'but comma' statement, is it?"

"A 'butt comma'?"

"Yeah, you know, 'you're great and all, but..."

You shot straight up, now hovering over him anxiously.

"Oh God, no!" You said, your eyes the size of saucers as you shook your head. Oh Lord, if he couldn't already tell you were emotionally unstable. You fell back on your heels, ringing your hands nervously. "Unless you want it to be..."

Now Jason sat up, taking both of your hands in his, running his thumbs over your knuckles.

"No, no, pretty girl. I don't want that."

There was no malice behind his green eyes. No mocking tweak in his slit eyebrow. No violence in his grip.

You sighed in relief and allowed Jason to lay you back down. He wrapped his thick arms around your waist and pulled you into him. You were thankful for the way he tucked your head into the crook of his neck, hiding your embarrassment at the emotional outburst.

Jason kissed the top of your head, "actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come to the Manor with me on Sunday. Family dinner stuff."

You peered up at him, "Would I be, y'know, welcomed there?"

"Of course," he promised. "Look, if there's any group of fuckers that can empathize with daddy issues, it's these fuckers. Damian'll probably give you shit, but you could've been birthed by the Pope and he would give you shit. But he knows you're cool."

"And Mr. Wayne?"

Jason chuckled, sending a soft vibration through you as his dark chest hair tickled your cheek.

"Believe it or not, it was B's idea to invite you. I think he's curious."

"Probably want to vet me," you grumbled, half joking, half painfully serious.

He laughed again, "baby, if Bruce had reason to be suspicious of you, he would've launched and concluded an investigation by now. He knows you're not your dad. I know I talk my shit about him, but trust me, he gets it."

You were about to ask if Batman had been keeping tabs on you when Jason continued.

"Plus, you know," he shrugged. "He knows you make me happy."

Oh, your heart stopped for a second.

Oh, that wasn't a bad thing.

Jason wanted to take you to dinner with his family. Not because he was a Wayne and you were a Sionis and the situation was inherently funny (and bound to set your old man off). But because you made him happy.

And fuck it, he made you happy too.

That might be love, actually.

"Well, if you insist," you nestled closer to him. "Then it's a date."

[its-avalon-08]

Can you write one about Nico Hülkenberg in which he has a secret girlfriend and one day she's in the paddock and everyone is like: Bro, who is she??!!! and he's like "That's my wife!!" (please, read in John Mulaney's voice)

my proudest accomplishment (nh27)

nico hulkenberg was a master of compartmentalization. on the track, he was a steely-eyed racer, a whirlwind of focus and precision. but off it, with y/n by his side, he was a different person entirely. laughter lines crinkled around his eyes as he teased her, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper when sharing an inside joke.

keeping their relationship a secret wasn't easy. y/n, fiercely independent, refused to be just another arm candy on the f1 circuit. nico, ever the private soul, valued his focus. so, stolen glances across crowded paddocks and late-night video calls became their norm.

one scorching bahrain grand prix weekend, nico was in the zone. he'd qualified a surprising p3, and the team buzzed with nervous anticipation. as nico entered the motorhome, his eyes scanned the room, searching for his usual source of calm – y/n. but she was nowhere to be seen.

a knot of worry tightened in his stomach. they'd agreed she wouldn't come to the paddock often, the attention overwhelming for her introverted nature. just then, a flash of movement by the window caught his eye. y/n, her back pressed against the glass, fiddled with a camera, her face flushed a light pink.

nico's heart melted. he crossed the room silently, the thump of the music the only sound. y/n jumped, the camera nearly slipping from her grasp.

"nico!" she squeaked, a relieved smile blooming on her face.

he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray strand of hair. "hey there, sunshine. what are you doing hiding?"

y/n mumbled something about not wanting to be in the way. nico scooped her into a hug, the familiar scent of her vanilla perfume grounding him.

"you're never in the way," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

suddenly, the door swung open, revealing his grinning teammate, kevin magnussen .

"hulkenberg! ready to lose again?" kevin teased, his eyes widening as they fell on y/n. "whoa, who's this stunner?"

y/n shrank back, her cheeks burning even brighter. nico felt a surge of protectiveness. he took y/n's hand, his grip firm yet gentle.

"this," he declared, a hint of pride in his voice, "is my beautiful wife, y/n."

the playful smirk vanished from kevin's face, replaced by genuine surprise. "wife? you never said..."

nico leaned in and kissed y/n softly, the gesture both intimate and public. when he pulled back, a triumphant glint shone in his eyes.

"we like to keep things private," he said, his voice laced with a playful challenge.

y/n, still flustered but undeniably happy, hid a smile behind her hand. the weight of everyone's attention was a little suffocating, but seeing the pride in nico's eyes, the way he held himself a little taller with her by his side, made it all worth it. maybe, just maybe, a little public declaration wouldn't hurt. after all, having nico by her side, as her husband, was a victory lap she wouldn't trade for anything.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

i hope you enjoyed! happy reading <3 do send in more requests! as for pre existing requests- im working on it! lots of love ava

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[politemenacephd]

The Surrogate: Part IV

Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18) Part one Part Two Part three Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.

Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.

- One month later-

‘Breakfast! Come on, wakey wakey!

You darted your head towards the door of your bedroom as Peter’s voice drifted through. Was everyone awake already?

You were standing half naked in your own little guest room, one you were very well acquainted with at this point. Your clothes filled the wardrobes and spilled out over the edge of the bathroom hamper, and the bed had your signature messy look to it. Your items were all over the bedside table, the bathroom smelled like your favorite body wash, and you could find your way to bed now even with the light fully off.

You also had been here long enough to know that call, and to know what the morning routine was.

You hurried to pull on some comfortable, lounging clothes before pushing your door open to join the rest of the household.

Peter was in the kitchen behind a smoky stove, busy cooking away for once. You were used to Miguel being the chef around here, at least for the girls. Neither of the boys were very accomplished cooks but they desperately wanted you to believe otherwise.

You could also see two little heads bouncing up and down beside him, heads which immediately homed in on you as you entered.

‘Y/N!’ May squealed, her little socks skidding on the floor as she hurried around the counter.

‘Good morning, ladies’ you said, gently holding out your hands as the girls rushed towards you. You���d gotten used to the way May would squeal and rush to latch onto your leg, and the way Gabriella would politely take your hand and jump up and down as she tried to tell you about her day.

This morning was no exception. The girls both cried for you from the kitchen where they were huddled around Peter, tugging on his trousers as he tried to finish loading up five plates worth of pancakes.

You could see he was sweating over the pan but he had the most infectious, patient smile on his face regardless, dressing in his loose shirt and pants with a tight pink apron around his waist.

As you approached Peter beamed and made a slight ‘oh’ face. ‘Oh, good morning! Hey, watch this’ he called, and without missing a beat he tossed a pancake nearly a meter into the air before catching it again.

‘Come on, am I getting good or am I getting good?’ Peter crowed. He relished in your polite, slightly amused clap and the girl's squeals of excitement.

‘You’re going to make a mess, that’s what you’re doing.’

Miguel’s gruff, smooth voice filled the kitchen as he entered from his and Peter’s bedroom. He was still in his pajamas a common sight for you now, with his hair messy and unkempt and a slight stubble on his jaw. It was a weekend, and he’d just returned from a long and vicious mission, so you understood his desire to relax a little. You knew Peter tried to enforce rest where he could.

‘My love- I made EVERYONE’S plates without spilling a single one!’ Peter protested. He pouted up a storm but still melted when Miguel came up to kiss his temple.

‘Mhm. You got very statistically lucky’ Miguel purred back. ‘Now I’d like you to stop being that luck runs out.’

‘Papa!’

Miguel paused his teasing to scoop up May and Gabriella in both arms, kissing them both on the cheek before carrying them over to the dining table.

‘Yes, good morning mi amors’ he said with a yawn, his face also endlessly patient as the girls patted at his worn, rough face. He even chuckled as May tried to trickle him, showing no response to her patting at his thick neck.

‘Alright, come on, behave. What will our guest think?’ Miguel added as he put the girls down in their chairs. May groaned.

‘They’re not a GUEST anymore! They’ve been here FOREVER!’ she whined.

‘A month isn’t forever’ Miguel said gently, ‘and even if it was forever, would that mean you can still be so rude in front of them?’

‘YEAH! It does! They’re like you and daddy, they have to put up with us’ May insisted.

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle on the sidelines. The girls were so damn charming, it was so hard not to love them. Just like their dads.

‘Alright! Sit, sit down, come on! Chop, chop!’

Peter’s impatient yelling and clapping drove you to rush to your seat, and as you did you got a chance to say good morning to Miguel. He bumped against you as you moved past him to your seat, and you got to watch as his eyes softened and creased. They roamed from your face, to your chest, right down to your belly, and there they lingered before rolling back up.

You felt your heart skip as he smiled.

‘Mi compinche’ he whispered. You snorted at the little nickname he’d given you over the past month, which was mostly a stand-in since they couldn’t really think of what else to call you. ‘Good morning’ he added.

‘Good morning, Migs’ you replied, only to be shoved into your seat by a huffing Peter.

‘Sit DOWN! No respect in this place!’ he groaned while also shoving Miguel into his seat. The man could have overpowered him all too easily but he sank down just to appease his sulking lover.

‘I know, I know. I’m awful to you’ Miguel chuckled as he checked the news on a holographic tablet. Peter snorted and put on a pout.

‘You are! Anyway- good morning you lovely little thing, look at you.’ The moment Peter turned to you his attitude changed, turning into another dorky smile as he laid down the first few plates.

‘Good morning again, Peter’ you replied with a similar chuckle.

You ate breakfast with the family in relative peace. Miguel was quite quiet, busy checking the news and the Spider Society’s daily going-on's while Peter chatted to May about her dreams and to Gabriella about her upcoming soccer game.

Miguel would interject to take notice every so often, still clearly concerned about the girls, but you knew enough now to know he showed affection in a more subdued manner to Peter. You could tell he looked contented though. Surprisingly contented…

‘Alright! Come on, Gabi’s got practise, let's go!’

You were jolted from your daydreaming by Peter’s cry, as the man pushed back his chair and hurried to get the dishes in the sink before herding the girls away.

Ah, right. They’ve got soccer practice, you thought. I’ll be home alone today.

The girls rushed off to get dressed, and while you got up to do the same, you were stopped.

You felt a thick, firm hand on your wrist, which then gently moved down to your fingers as if the person realized they were being a little too aggressive. You turned already knowing who it was.

‘Hey, hermosa/o’ Miguel said, his voice low and sweet. You smiled up at him.

‘Hey! What’s up? Is it—’

Before you could finish speaking you felt him slip something into your open hand, forcing you to grasp it. It felt like… a little cardboard box?

You rolled it around in your hand, your face growing more and more confused. It was long and thin, you could feel the soft raised brail points on its edge…

‘It- what is this?’ you whispered after a few moments of confused pause.

Miguel met your gaze with glimmering, bright red eyes. They were overflowing with excitement.

‘Pregnancy test’ he whispered, like it was the most inane thing in the world. Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to stop yourself from instinctively touching your belly.

‘You- wait, already?’ you whispered back.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed as he licked his fang, offering just a soft, almost amused grunt of confidence. ‘Mm, compinche, I already told you. The first time will have done it. You were ovulating then, it should have been enough time to show up. So, go on.’

You found your chest growing oddly tight. Already? You were already expected to be pregnant?

Miguel seemed to sense your insecurity, as his own brows went up, but before he could ask if you were okay, you smiled back and nodded.

‘Okay! Sure, no problem. I’ll um- I’ll check it this afternoon, whenever I need to pee, I guess. And- we’ll see’ you replied, quickly soothing his worries.

Miguel beamed down at you, and god it almost hurt. He looked so proud of you.

‘Mil gracias, mi compinche’ he purred back.

…

You stared down at the little test your hands, sitting alone in the en-suite to your temporary room in Miguel’s apartment. It was isolated here, and you’d hoped it would be quiet, but you could still hear May and Gabi playing in the living room just a few doors away.

One line. Just one line on the thin blue test in your grip. You let out a slight sigh of disappointment.

It had only been a month, that’s what you kept telling yourself, as your mind swirled.

It’d only been a month. Why, then, did it bother you so much?

You’d waited until the afternoon to take the test, as you’d somehow been too nervous to pee. You’d drunk nearly three gallons of water beforehand but only now had it worked, and only when the whole family happened to be home again after soccer practice.

You’d hoped to have time to prepare. Either to mentally prepare for this outcome or to prepare a surprise for the positive lines.

But now…

You crept out of the bathroom and peered into the living room. You could see Miguel and Peter were trying to teach May how to use her new web shooter to knock little plush toys off of the coffee table, while Gabi was mischievously throwing items in her way to distract her as she tried to web those instead.

You heard them laughing, and cheering.

Your stomach turned. Oh god. Were you about to ruin the good mood?

You slowly, shyly, closed the door, right as Miguel glanced at it.

You couldn’t stand to face them yet.

You lost track of time pacing in the bedroom, going back and forth over the fine wood flooring until it squeaked. How did you tell them? It wasn’t a big deal, right? It was normal, this was normal, but they’d made it seem like you SHOULD be pregnant right now.

Oh god, what if they were disappointed? What if they hated you? What if they thought you weren’t good enough for this?

You hated feeling this way about your friends, but you’d gotten so comfortable here, so happy, so content, and now… You remembered that you were here for a job. A serious job. And, it already felt like you’d failed…

‘Compinche?’

You jumped in place, your spine chilling at that familiar voice. You spun in place and found both Peter and Miguel in the doorway.

‘Heeyy, pretty thing, just- can we, come in?’ Peter said softly, his eyes as desperate as a puppy.

Your heart sank. You couldn’t exactly tell them no…

‘Ah- sorry, yeah, come in’ you murmured. The boys took the opportunity right away, swiftly shifting the door at their backs as they crossed the room towards you.

Miguel looked ecstatic but impatient. He seemed surprised you hadn’t told them the moment you came out of the bathroom, confused as to why you weren’t screaming and jumping for joy about his new baby.

Oh god, why, why, why…

‘Look, hey, we have to get ready for dinner, but… We wanted to ask first…’

Miguel approached with his hands outstretched, the softest smile spreading across his face as he implored you. Peter was beaming at his back.

‘It’s okay, the girls can find out later’ he added gently when you refused to say a word. Your heart sank. God, it hurt so bad. He was expecting it already, like he was so sure it’d worked. He assumed you must just be shy about these things.

You couldn’t get the words out. It was too hard. You paused, and then slowly you shook your head. You held up the little test to show the single line instead.

The way Miguel’s face changed was agony. The way his lips jittered, like he was forcing them to stay up. The way his body tensed and lowered. The way his shoulders just… deflated.

He was fixed on that line like it was his worst enemy, like it was a person who’d personally spat in his face. He paused and went silent for just a moment as he wiped a hand down his face, and God, the sigh he let out was like a knife to the chest.

‘Okay’ he whispered.

You pursed your lips into a thin line as you tried to stay calm. Why was this so hard? Why was he taking this so badly? It was just the first time. Still, you couldn’t say it out loud. ‘I… I’m sorry—’

To your surprise he then suddenly pulled you into an embrace, squeezing you tight to his huge chest. You felt so minuscule against his enormous form, tightly clutched in his giant biceps, feeling his pectorals heave as his heart thundered against your cheek.

His heart thundering… His breath a little ragged…

Oh god, he wasn’t mad. He was upset. But, was he upset with you?

‘It’s okay’ he murmured, his chin resting now on the top of your head. ‘It’s okay. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll- try again, we’ll try again. We’ve got time.’

You could only nod awkwardly. This felt almost unfair. Almost nobody just got pregnant within a month of trying, it wasn’t this unusual. While Miguel’s confidence was fun and, in a way, sexy, the real pressure now mounting on you felt incredibly unnecessary.

But then he said something that really made you pause.

‘I can do this.’

I can do this. Not ‘you’ can do this, referring to you, or even ‘we’. I can do this.

He didn’t act mad, at least not towards you. Was he, angry at himself?

‘Hey, hey, it’s okay.’

Peter was the one who then rushed in and squeezed you so tight your ribs hurt, offering Miguel the same. Miguel was silent as he hugged him back.

‘It’s fine! It’s the first month, these things happen. It might even, just uh- show up next week, actually. Maybe it’s a little early. But either way, it’s normal. It’s fine. Nobody did anything wrong, YOU did nothing wrong mi amor, and neither did you pretty thing’ Peter said, softly tutting sympathetically as he saw the pain in your eyes.

Miguel remained silent.

‘We’ll try again tonight’ he repeated with a gruff tone, lightly rolling his shoulders as he forced that stoic, calm expression to fill his face. Peter’s smile faltered a little.

‘Is that, okay with you?’

As he turned to you, you nodded desperately. ‘Yeah! Of course, it—’

‘It is REALLY okay with you?’ Miguel said, his voice suddenly sounding oddly vulnerable and concerned. ‘I don’t- Ah, I’m sorry’ he said through gritted teeth, wiping a hand down his face. ‘I don’t- I know I’m, putting pressure on you, it’s not my intention. I’m sorry. I am. Just… are you really okay to try again tonight?’

You paused only for a moment in the face of his big, soft, puppy eyes, before nodding.

‘Yeah- yeah! Yeah. I am. I’m fine to go again. We’ll start again, I’ll- track my periods, I’ll take the injections, it- it’ll be fine.’

Peter’s sympathetic face turned into a grateful mess as his lip quivered, and Miguel too had his brows turn up with a look of what could only be pride.

‘… Thank you, compinche’ Miguel murmured. He put a hand on your head, ruffling your hair before pulling back with a melancholic huff. ‘Thank you.’

The two men left you as the girls started screaming for their attention. You watched Peter put a silent hand on Miguel’s back, as if propping him up when he barely had the strength to do so, before the two stepped out as if nothing had happened.

You remained, alone, in your room. This was going to be a long night. 

…

That evening you waited for Miguel and Peter to visit, and sure enough they appeared the moment the girls were asleep.

Miguel came in already half naked in just his pajama pants, while Peter was wearing his full loungewear. The two looked a lot less hopeful than they did the first night you’d been in this situation.

You gulped, trying not to show how nervous you were.

‘Peter, mi amor.’

Miguel addressed Peter first before you, his eyes glancing to his partner as you sat alone on the mattress. Peter glanced at you then at him.

‘Yes?’

‘Mm… We’ll, both do it, right?’ he said softly, a fang flashing beneath his lip as he licked his teeth. Peter nodded quickly. ‘Yes, if- they want that.’

‘Ah… guys?’

You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up as they glanced at each other, but when they looked down at you in unison you felt the lump in your throat grow.

You were a mess of arousal and nerves, far worse than the last night. The sight of those huge men, powerful and relying on you, with those soft brown eyes and dark red eyes both peering at you like meat in the dim light, you felt your body stiffen.

‘Sorry, I—’

‘No, no don’t apologize.’ Miguel raised his hand and gently cut you off. He looked strained over something, but when he spoke to you, he was as gentle as ever. ‘You’re fine. It’s okay, just- We were saying, I wanted Peter to help with the, uh, foreplay first before getting into it, since…’

Miguel paused and glanced at Peter again, who gently nodded for him to continue. ‘He’s… agreed, I will be the only one having sex, with you, tonight’ Miguel said after a small pause, his voice dripping as it slipped from his lips.

You blinked in surprise at that. It’d just be Miguel tonight? Even after the bad news with the baby? Surely they’d both want to be taking turns even more now.

‘I… Oh, sure, no that’s- fine, that’s fine’ you murmured.

‘It’s not because I don’t want to’ Peter said, offering an awkward tease in the face of the weird tension filling the bedroom. ‘Trust me, I uh- would love to, but, papi here requested it.’

You glanced up at Miguel and saw that same look in his eye you’d seen before, that dark, red, glowering glare that seemed both so overly confident and so insecure at the same time. It was a look of desperation, a look of need. You felt his eyes on you like a drowning man swimming towards a pocket of air.

What had gotten into him?

You breathed in deeply and slowly nodded.

‘Yeah, of course. That’s fine. That’s, fine. I’m fine with that’ you reply slowly.

Miguel gave a curt nod, a contended, affectionate nod, and without another word, he crawled onto the bed.

As Miguel descended on you, he stank of hormones. He had a dark expression, one clouded with testosterone and primal need, and it was like that need was seeping through his pores, coating his rough, scarred skin in a light sheen of pure virility.

When he flexed his veins popped on his forearms, his biceps tight and round. He didn’t even need to speak for you to back down, cowering on your chest as he put his nose to your neck. He breathed in deep, and you shivered.

‘Mm… Okay, we’ll do your favorite, si?’ Miguel purred against your nape. You nodded.

‘Yeah, y-yeah—AH!’

You squeaked as Miguel lifted your hips without even moving his face or body. He spread your legs by slipping his muscled arm between your thighs and lifting you by the cunt, raising your hips about a foot from the mattress, allowing Peter to slide down beneath your pussy.

‘Good’ Miguel purred against your neck again. ‘Good, good.’

‘That’s it, pretty little thing, come down gently now. Don’t you worry about suffocating me either, if you do it’d be an honor’ Peter said as he carefully took over maneuvering your hips from Miguel. The larger man released your soft, wet vulva from his grip with a soft grunt, and Peter took the weight with both his hands.

He breathed on you a few times, teasing just a little as he blew hot air against your swollen clit, but he could only hold off for so long.

With a low moan, he dropped your pussy onto his face.

‘A-AH! Ahh, f-fuck’ you whimpered.

Peter moaned as he began swirling his tongue, eagerly sucking and slathering your clit with all the love he could muster, while Miguel moved his hand back down and carefully shifted it through the folds until he found your entrance.

He didn’t waste time on ceremony. He slipped one finger in, pumped, dragging the soft side of his finger right down your g-spot, then withdrew and replaced it with two fingers.

You screamed. You could do nothing else. The walls were thankfully very soundproofed, so it wasn’t an issue, but even if it had been you weren’t sure you’d have had the strength to stop.

‘OH- O-OH MY, GOD, FUCK!’

Between Miguel’s thick, calloused fingers pumping in and out and Peter eagerly making out with your clit in the messiest way possible, you melted into absolute putty in their hands.

Miguel grinned. You felt it against your neck, his lips pulling back and his sharp teeth bumping your nape as he breathed. His breath was hot, potent, desperate.

He began to move his fingers harder. With each pump you got a little looser, a little wetter, and soon his fingers were squelching as they moved in and out.

‘Good, come on. That’s it, baby’ Miguel whispered against your ear. He was commanding you like a horse, like an animal to be trained, and it did something to you. ‘Go on, that’s it. Loosen up. It’ll make it easier.’

‘U-Uh, f-fucckkk, fuck—’

Your eyes rolled as Miguel pulled back a little and pulsated his fingers at about halfway, keeping the tips on your g-spot. Peter, sensing the movement, quickly moved to suck on your clit at exactly the right time.

With a dull, frantic cry you orgasmed for the both of them, your body shaking with the strain of every muscle slowly tightening and then releasing with that heavy wave of pleasure. Peter dragged your hips down until you were crushing him, cutting off all his air just so he could get his tongue right up into your cunt, tasting every inch of that orgasm as it quivered to a stop.

Miguel let his fingers stay just long enough to feel it, to help squish some of those precious juices down for Peter to taste, before abruptly pulling out.

Your body was limply rolled off of Peter’s face and onto the bed, still on your front, and after supplying a few soft, soothing pets and gruff praise Miguel moved to whisper at Peter.

‘I’m going now. Okay?’ he hissed.

Peter was barely lucid. His eyes were glazed over, his lips and face red and wet, and his cock was hard and throbbing in his loose pants to the point he had to half-heartedly adjust them, pawing at his own erection with a soft whine.

‘O-Okay, ah… I- can I—’

‘Yes, mi amor, you can watch and satisfy yourself. Or, you can wait for me to be done and—’

‘No. No, lemme- watch’ Peter whined, a dreamy smile spreading over his face. ‘Uh… I should take some pictures of this sometime…’

Miguel grunted, not even really focused on him anymore. All he could sense was you, all he could smell was you. His breedable friend, his baby machine, the foundation of all his pride.

He crawled over and pulled your hips up into doggy before mounting from behind.

‘Now… I’m going to fuck you’ Miguel said, his voice slow and thick. ‘You understand?’

‘Y-Yes’ you whimpered.

‘You want me to fuck you?’

‘Y-Yes…’

‘I’m going to fuck you multiple times. I will ejaculate into you, multiple times. I will not let you lose any of it. You understand this?’

‘Y-Yess…’

‘It’s going to be rough’ he groaned, pressing the tip of his erect cock right against your sodden entrance. ‘Very rough.’

‘Yes…’

‘I will stop. But if you can take it—’

‘I can… take it, please, just… uh… do it’ you moaned.

Miguel sneered with pleasure. His pride bristled, and without wasting another second he spread your cunt with his fingers and shoved his cock inside.

You were winded by the force, and winded a second time by his refusal to start slow. The moment his erection slid up and kissed your cervix he was pumping like mad, grunting like an animal as he thrust his hips back and forth.

You were forced to moan into the sheets as you struggled to maintain any control. He was slipping himself all the way out, so far that only his bulbous member was left to stretch your entrance, before slipping back in within barely a second, stretching you out over and over.

You felt the soft walls stretching, expanding, tensing, and quivering in response to his intrusion, as he made your body his, as he molded you for his purpose.

And he made that purpose clear.

‘Need to… cum… Mmm… need to, fill you… put my baby in here…’

Miguel’s barely coherent grunts filled your ears as he bent your spine and slapped his pelvis into your rear, making the skin hot and raw where he hit it.

‘My… baby…. Mine… m-mine… you’re…. mine…!’

His grunting got wilder, rougher, and between that and your own moaning there was a third voice filling the bedroom. You glanced over, and through the sweaty strands of hair covering your eyes, you saw him.

Peter was watching, as promised, lazily spread out as he stroked and fisted his own cock. It was a gorgeous side, with his pajama pants just down to his thighs and his hand eagerly massaging his member.

And his eyes were fixed on you.

You felt the heat rising in your belly from this, as you were held down and pumped by that enormous, grunting, red-eyed man while his partner watched and stroked himself.

You made eye contact with Peter just for a moment, as he watched your sweaty face taking his partner's load, and with a shuddered groan he came.

You watched his eyes roll back and his lips part as he ejaculated into his own palm. God, what a pretty sight. There was so much of it, thick and slick and glossy in the dim light, coating his fingers and belly. It made you involuntarily clench your cunt around Miguel.

‘Y-You, AH-!’

You squeaked as Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting harder as he also climaxed. You felt his claws digging into your hips as he humped that first load in as deep as he could, ensuring it filled every damn inch of your pussy, smothering the walls until they were practically stuck together.

As he rocked to a halt you took a moment to breathe. There. That was good, he’d done it. And he—

‘Uh- come on!’

You squeaked in shock as Miguel began to rock his hips again, barely a second after he was done ejaculating. He continued to pump just as hard, pushing you face-first into the mattress as sweat flew from his brow.

‘Come on…. Come on…’

It was like a mantra he hissed to himself, as he overrode his brain's desire to rest. There was no rest. There was only breeding. There was only you, and that womb, that he NEEDED to fill.

‘Come on- come on- come on-‘

Your soft cries were barely audible over the creaking of the bed, over the aggressive slap of his pelvis as it thrust and smacked into your rear until it went numb.

‘COME ON- UHN—’

You felt Miguel’s whole body stiffen and release as he pumped that second load in. The hot, thick fluid seeped out and put even more pressure on your insides, forcing those soft muscular walls to strain. You squirmed a little.

‘M-Mmm, mm…’

No, no, you could take it. You could take it.

Miguel paused to grunt, his face now dripping with sweat and his thighs trembling from the pleasure of two ejaculations so close together, but even then he refused to stop.

You could only respond with a squeak as Miguel started pumping you all over again, violently rocking his hips as he pushed through the overstimulation and went for loads three.

‘AH! A-Ah—’

You tugged on the sheets so hard they nearly ripped as he thrust from behind, the smack of his hips letting out a dull, heavy thump that ripped through the room. He was groaning so hard, spitting and hissing involuntarily, his claws digging into your hips as he dragged you back against his cock.

‘Uh- uh- uh- uh- UH- UH- UH- !”

Thrust, after thrust, after mind-numbing thrust, until—

‘ARGH! F-FUCK!’

Miguel cried out weakly as he orgasmed for the third time in a row. He moved primally as he did so, his body bucking despite his exhaustion as he tried to pump it deep. You could only whimper.

You felt this load just like the others, in all of its terrifying potency. That thick, wet, hot seed spilling out and coating you from the inside, pressed right to your cervix with no escape. He was holding you against his pelvis and refusing to pull out, almost like some kind of basic form of knotting.

‘Hey, hey, big guy.’

As Miguel knelt over you, sweating and heaving, his chest dripping and slick, Peter crept up and gently gripped his shoulders. 

‘Hey, it’s okay. Take a breather’ he whispered.

‘Need, to… need to, prove…’

Miguel continued slowly rocking his hips, pushing past the overstimulation until his muscles were tensed and aching. He kept moving inside you, squishing until his cum started to slip out, which only drove him more mad.

He moved his hand down and used it to squish the little white drops back inside, all with his fat shaft still impaling you in place. You whimpered at the sudden extra intrusion.

‘Need to… Impregnate.. God, damn it..’

‘Miggy, hey…’ Peter continued stroking Miguel’s forehead as he continued rocking back and forth, pushing you until you whined. The pressure was immense. His cock, three loads

‘Give them a break, then.’

That seemed to snap Miguel out of his trance. He glanced down with those hazy red eyes and he saw you spread out beneath him, trembling from the strain of being taken so many times so fast. He saw the sweat on your skin, the shimmering glow on your skin, and the wetness of your parted lips.

Almost immediately he released his grip.

‘I… Mierda, I’m so sorry—’

‘No, I’m… f-fine…’ you whimpered. ‘I’m, not hurt…’

‘No, but, you are clearly exhausted’ Peter cooed softly. ‘It’s okay. If we really want to try again, we can, just… let’s rest.’

‘But—’

‘I know’ Peter whispered softly, his own melancholy seeping through. ‘I know. You both want this baby. A lot. I know. I want it too. But this isn’t going to change anything. So let’s just, rest for a moment, and go again. Okay?’

At that moment, Peter was the gentle voice of reason for both of you.

Miguel let out a soft grunt, but he did pull out slowly, making sure to keep his fingers and palm stuffed in the little swollen entrance between your thighs to keep his seed safely intact. You allowed your body to collapse into the sheets with a sigh.

His fingers made you jolt and whine on occasion, but, you could handle that.

The three of you lay back and moaned softly, trying to catch your breath, with Peter hugging both of you close.

As Peter held you, you couldn’t help but glance over at Miguel just a little, though you tried to keep your gaze hidden.

You were so confused by the insecurity you’d sensed in him. There was no other way to put it. Before he’d been so confident, so sure, so calm, like he was just messing around, but now… There was an urgency in his movement.

There was a need. That was the best word for it. But, it wasn’t just a need to get you pregnant. Not now.

There was a need to prove himself.

[adisillusionedauthor]

Could you do fic for Checo with wife reader where she's Max's older sister and she just worried for them because of how the races could turned badly in a matter of second? Add something you'd like though. Thanks! :)

Fearful Velocity - Sergio Pérez and Max Verstappen

Requested by: Anon

Masterlist<3

Pairing: Checo x spouse!GN!reader, Max x Sibling!reader

Warning: OOC Checo, OOC Max, fluff, sweet, concern about loved ones, Max being a sweetie, Checo being a sweetie and bad english

Word count: 713

The team always tries to make everything very comfortable for me when I go see the races in person, being the married and related to their drivers I get some sort of princess treatment, but it somehow doesn’t help the aching feeling that something is going to happen, I shake the thought off of my head once i realize Checo is walking towards me, I start to smile at him opening my arms for him, hoping he’d hug me. 

Of course he obliges and pulls me into a tight hug, since I’m sitting down my head rests comfortably on his chest and he rests his on top of my head, not before giving the top of head a kiss: “You’ve got that look on your face…” He says into my hair softly, I let out a sigh, nothing happens to me without this man noticing: “Is it the usual?” He asks with a knowing look on his face, I’ve shared my concerns with him, even asked him to retire once Sebastian said he’d be leaving F1, but it didn’t work, he wants to race longer; “Yup… It’s like this every weekend that there’s a race, but this time… It feels different, like something is going to happen…” I say, sharing this strange feeling makes my chest somehow feel lighter, Sergio pulls me even closer if that’s even possible, but before he could say something we could hear my younger brother’s voice saying “Ew!” from behind him, Checo turns with an more serious look which makes Max realize I’m worrying over them again.

He comes hug me for a while on Checo’s place while he goes get ready for today, Max keeps telling me that serious accidents barely ever happen, that there’s no need for me to get so stressed over this, today is supposed to be a day where I can take a breath and see my boys enjoy themselves on the track and he’s right, it feels weird even thinking about this: “I’m sorry for worrying so much, it’s just… I still see you as that boy who still raced in a kart, it’s weird seeing the little boy I held in my arms accomplish so much… I’m proud of you Max, truly proud” I say smiling at him proudly, in my heart he’ll always that baby my parents brought home when I was still two, he’ll always be my little brother, no matter how many championships he wins or how many podiums he gets: “Don’t you dare say stuff that’ll make me tear up right before a race, I can’t cry now, Y/N” He says while his eyes get glossy with tears, i hug him even closer and then Checo comes back to get Max to get ready for the race: “So… Feeling better about today, mi amor?” He knows that nickname is my doom, I melt into his arms as his fingers run into my hair soothing me even more: “You’re a very unfair man, Mr. Pérez…” I say resting my head onto his shoulder and he laughs gently: “Oh really? Or maybe I just know exactly what I need to do to calm my wife, Mrs. Pérez.”

I blush softly at his words, I’ve been his wife for four years, but everytime he calls me that I feel like I did on our first date, my smile turns even more soft and I answer him: “Maybe… But just maybe, you’ve helped a lot, darling” He smiles back at me happy that he could help me feel a little more safe about him and my brother racing, he gives me three kissed like he always does when he’s about to go race, one on  my forehead promising to keep me on his mind during the race, one on my cheek promising to never let me go and finally one on my lips promising to always love me, I kiss him back showing just as much love as he is into the kiss, when Max comes to call him so they can enter the car and go to the line up, I don’t feel as anxious as I did on the beginning of the day, because I know that they’ll both be okay and if something does happen they’ll have me to take care of them and nurse them back into healthiness just so i can scold them. 

[itsjusthockey]

45 Days Later - Jack Hughes

Summer Series Open Now

Here is the official beginning of the Summer Lakehouse Series.

Send in requests

I’m ready to rumble.

w.c: 1,571 (dont steal my work)(credit to gif maker)

Part 1

You slightly want to kill someone when you awake to your iPhone ringing incessantly. It's early. Way too early. Too early even for your very specific set of alarms.

Groggily, you sigh, accepting defeat and fumbling around for the device on your bedside table, cursing under your breath when you see who has woken you up much earlier than needed.

“What?” You groan, rubbing your eyes to chase away some sleep as you answer the FaceTime call.

“Hello to you too, sunshine,” Jack smirks at your screen, obviously incredibly pleased with himself.

You let out an exasperated sigh, looking at the time. "It’s 4:30, Jack. What do you want?”

Jack is practically beaming as you continue to squint at your phone's brightness.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided that if I’m awake, you’re awake.”

“Well, mission accomplished," you hiss at him, sitting up in bed, stretching your arms. "I'm awake now. Happy?"

“Ecstatic," Jack retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "How are you even able to sleep? I’ve been up since Tuesday counting down every second.”

You roll your eyes playfully, knowing exactly how Jack gets when he's excited. "Well, some of us need our beauty sleep before we have to face the public.”

Jacks snorts. "Oh, believe me, baby, you don't need any more beauty sleep. You're already perfect."

You roll your eyes as far back as possible.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Hughes.”

He lets out another laugh as you crack a few muscles.

“Well, now you’re already awake-“

“Thanks to you.”

“You can get up and get ready because you have a very important flight to catch in 2 hours.”

You glance at the clock again, realizing that trying to sleep again is pointless, and now, despite the early hour, a surge of excitement fills your veins as the reality of the day ahead sinks in.

“You’re so annoying,” you say, sliding out of bed. “But I suppose it would be tragic if I did miss this flight“

You see Jacks's face drop a bit. “Don’t even joke. I think I’d die.”

You can't help but smile at his eagerness.

“J, it’s been forty-five days. You can wait a few more hours.”

He rapidly shakes his head. “Really don’t think I can“

The words melt your heart, and you can't help but feel another surge of excitement. "I miss you too, loser. Five hours, give or take.”

With a little more back and forth, you finally hang up the phone, the grogginess finally leaving you, and start your morning routine. Though you’re a little upset about the early wake-up, now you don’t have to rush, which is slightly lovely.

You shower, get dressed in comfortable travel attire, and double-check your bags to ensure you haven't forgotten anything important. As you go through the motions, your mind can't help but wander to the fact that in just a few hours, you’ll be at the lake house. The thought of surfing on the water, laughter-filled late bonfires, and being with your boyfriend again makes you giddy.

Time moves quickly, and soon enough, you're ready. You grab your suitcase and head out the door, heading to the airport and praying the day runs smoothly.

The airport is busy, but you navigate through check-in and security easily, and the excitement in the air is contagious. You find yourself grinning as you walk to your gate, and the many hours of separation are dwindling. Soon, you'll be reunited with the idiot you’ve missed so dearly.

You get coffee, and some snacks, find a comfortable spot, and less than an hour later, you board the plane. You find your seat, shoot off a text to Jack and turn on your shared playlist.

Minutes later, you’re in the clouds, and you feel yourself at peace for the first time in a while, so with a slight smile, you close your eyes and try to sleep just a little more.

————————————-

A shortish flight later, you barely step ten feet in the Delta terminal baggage claim when you get a text that immediately sends you into panic mode.

-I see u-

You snap your head to survey your surroundings and try your best to prepare yourself for the attack, but you know it’s futile. You’re proven correct when, within five seconds of seeing the text, you’re thrown to the ground, a hand coming to cover your mouth to silence your scream.

To onlookers, this may seem like a kidnapping attempt but not one single person even bats an eye as you’re wrestled to the dirty airport floor.

Jack makes quick work of laying his entire body weight on you and crushing you between his body and the floor. You struggle to breathe between your laughter and all the extra weight that is being dramatically laid out on your chest.

You both stay this way for a second and finally, you smack him in an attempt to push him off of you. He does, jumping up quickly and pulling you into a hug that crushes every bone in your body.

When he lets you pull back a little bit, you finally take in his face for the first time in over a month. His eyes are filled with happiness, and he smiles so hard you’re afraid his face might break open. You notice he hasn’t shaved; growing slightly along his jaw and upper lip is a little hair that has you immediately wanting to pull out the razor you know is somewhere in your checked bag.

“God, you hate it, don’t you?”

You realize you must have been staring a bit too long at his face, and laughter bursts from your lips.

“No, it’s um,” you pause, a teasing smile crossing your face. “It’s fine.”

Jack lets out a groan, pulling you into him and dropping his head into your neck.

“It’s coming off immediately,” he mutters, the light vibrations sending a chill down your spine.

After several seconds of sulking, Jack pulls back, looking deeply into your eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but his soft smile somehow grows even more, and he leans back to kiss your forehead.

You try your best not to melt, pulling him back for another hug. His grip is so tight, as if he thinks you might slip away.

You stay there for another few moments before he pulls back slightly, and both of his hands remove themselves from your waist and go to cup your face. He stares hard for a second, his beautiful green eyes scanning over every inch of your face until they stop at your lips, and after a moment, he connects yours together, and fireworks explode in your entire body.

You kiss him for a few seconds, then remember you’re in the middle of a crowded airport and pull back from his firm embrace. When you part, you see he’s got a slight smirk on his face that makes your heart stutter. He always is a little cocky and a whole lot clingy when you first see each other after a long time apart, but you love the combination. 

With a playful grin, you nudge Jack's side and motion toward the exit. "Come on, Romeo. Let's get out of here, and let's save the rest of this reunion for the privacy of the Lakehouse, shall we?"

Jack chuckles and nods, intertwining his fingers with yours. Together, you find your checked bag and make your way through the bustling airport. You let him lead you to his parked car, and he opens the door for you, and you slide into the passenger seat of the Range Rover.

As Jack pulls out of the airport parking lot, you lean back in your seat, taking in the familiar sights of the city passing by. His hand rests on your thigh, and the drive to the lake house is filled with laughter, catching up on missed stories and stealing stolen glances at each other whenever the traffic allows.

You drive for a while, but you soon turn onto the familiar road leading to the Lakehouse. You’re practically bouncing in your seat when Jack pulls into the driveway, and before the car has even come to a complete stop, you're unbuckling your seatbelt when Jack quickly grabs you before you can rush out.

“Wait, (Y/N).”

You meet his eyes, and you can see all the love and longing in the world in his gaze. Without a word, he captures your lips in a tender, passionate kiss, sealing the moment and igniting a fire that had been smoldering within both of you during the time apart.

As you break the kiss, you can't help but smile, knowing that this is just the beginning of an epic summer. You feel yourself leaning back in, and your lips barely brush when what you assume is a ball hits the windshield in front of you. You both are a little shocked, but a smile breaks on your face when you see Luke standing about ten feet away, with his arms crossed, looking less than impressed.

“You guys wanna stop making out and come see everyone who’s been waiting just as long as Jack to see you?”

You laugh at his annoyed tone and move to get out of the car when Jack grabs you once more, stealing a quick peck and whispering in your ear.

“We’ll finish this later.”

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part two]

Summary: A few weeks after initiating her training with the Valkyries, Eowyn decides to run some errands in Velaris. A self-date never hurt anyone, right?

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: none. briefly mentions the passing of a pet (my greatest fear).

Minors, do not interact.

A/N: so i technically listened to the ACOTAR series so a lot got lost in the void of my mind. if there's something SJM mentions in the novels that I forgot lets just pretend i didn't. also the image isn't exactly what I picture Eowyn's face covering to look like, but its similar enough. i'm also reluctant to call it a niqāb as it may contain religious connotations and i wouldn't want to offend anyone, nor does the story suggest it's due to religious beliefs. if there's anything suggesting differently from the reader's perspective, please let me know and I'll fix it immediately

part 1

"If I could go back to a time before now

Before I ever fell down

Go back to a time when I was just a girl

When I had the whole world

Gently wrapped around me"

Weyes Blood, A Lot's Gonna Change

In the weeks that followed her initial introduction to training with the Illyrians and the Valkyries, she felt a change within her.

Well, not considering how she’d almost quit by the end of the first week due to how sore she was. She’d had a change of heart when she saw the elation in Ananke when she finally managed to cut the ribbon, however. The cheer that erupted from the vocal priestesses and the look of accomplishment and pride on Ananke’s face was contagious enough for her to decide to stay. She might as well do that, she figured, for although the hefty daily exercises were strenuous on her body, they accomplished little to nothing to quiet her mind.

Dressed in comfortably loose skirts and a blouse in dark cool tones, she let out a weary breath, fixing the black laced mantilla placed over her head. From the middle of the dark fabric fell a thin silver chain across the center of her forehead, clasped onto the matching silver chain on the trim of the soft fabric covering the bottom half of her face.

Despite her slightly rattled nerves, opening one of the heavy doors leading out to the city of Velaris was somehow not as intimidating as it had been before. Immediately, her mind attributed it to her recent training, surely pulling her own body weight on a bar repeatedly for several sets had made it easier for her to open the heavy ancient doors, but she also knew it was more than that. It was the fact that it didn’t take her usual twenty minutes of steeling herself to leave the library— it only took eight.

That, she knew she couldn’t credit training for, entirely.

Although she’d never been one to easily make friends, oftentimes too lost in her own musings to seek further than surface-level conversations with her companions, she’d found an unexpected but welcomed sort of camaraderie with a few of the priestesses in the training ring, including Nesta and Emerie who, although weren’t priestesses themselves were oftentimes jumbled up together in name, if they weren’t being called Valkyries. Mirna, Desmodena, and Eowyn had only just joined the larger group of priestesses, making a total of ten priestesses training all at once in unison. The only separate group were the three original female fighters, who mostly trained with Cassian, or Azriel on the off chance that Cassian hyper focused on so-and-so’s form and dagger grip.

Still, it was Gwyn with whom she’d found herself spending more time with, although mostly outside of the ring as they walked through the library's many floors. Which, by extension, led to her growing friendship with Nesta and Emerie, the latter who she found took immense pleasure in making her laugh. Nesta, on the other hand, while not outright rude, was perhaps just as cynical as Eowyn herself, which gave way for an unspoken understanding— thick melted chocolate in texture, compared to the easy flowing nectar of her closeness to Emerie and Gwyn.

Her steps, brisk in nature but slightly stilted in discomfort soon fell back on the ease of slithering through busy city streets, a certain knowledge in the marrow of her bones that refused to forget something that was once so familiar. To walk through a busy city street wasn’t an easy thing to learn at once, but once learned, was something that was never forgotten.

The bell above the apothecary door signaled her entrance, pulling a hefty small fae from her book, which at a quick glance was clearly similar to the smutty romances the girls liked to read so much. She chuckled lightly under her breath, smiling at the herbalist gently despite the fact that the female couldn’t see anything but her dark eyes, and held it still, even as the fae watched her with clear unease, seeming half a second away from kicking her out the door.

“Good evening,” Eowyn greeted politely, “I’ve come to pick up an order from the Library.”

“Y-yes, let me get that for you,” the fae stumbled over her words, relief seeming to fall over her face as she turned and disappeared in the backroom.

Eowyn took that time to roam around the store, taking note of the array of trinkets sold, made of quarts and precious minerals and stones. The side of the wall displayed what looked like thousands of tins and small packages of teas, all displaying labels with what the remedies contained and what they were recommended for. She chuckled to herself when she took notice of the one labeled Love, although the ingredients were curiously not listed.

She took it in her hand, opening her mouth to call out to the herbalist and ask her what the special little tea contained when she felt a shift in the air. A second before the bell of the apothecary door could sound to signal someone else’s entrance, Eowyn flitted, hiding herself from view behind a tall shelf in the center of store, promoting a two-for-one deal on candles that were labeled with the same intentions of the teas in the wall behind her.

Ducking slightly to peek through the thin gap in the shelf she bit her tongue to keep herself from gasping in surprise at the sight of the Shadowsinger, who reached the counter in three strides, scarred hand impatiently slamming over the bell to ring for the owner.

“Coming! I’m coming!” her muffled yell called out from the back.

When a cold soft breeze touched her ankle, like the mist of a cloud but leaving no trace behind, she looked down to her feet to see Azriel’s shadows dancing around her feet. She grimaced slightly at the idea of being caught in the act. Not that she was doing anything wrong, of course, but the thought of him catching her hiding behind a shelf with a love drink in her hand made her cheeks flush.

She brought her index finger to mouth, signaling for the shadows to keep quiet but no sooner had she done so when Azriel’s voice called out. “I know you’re here, Eowyn.”

A shiver ran down her spine unexpectedly at the sound of her name coming from his lips.

“Traitors,” she hissed lightly to the shadows, quickly sliding the tin in her hands onto the shelf at her side before revealing herself.

“Hello,” she cleared her throat.

His face, always unreadable, remained so as he turned to face her, but she noticed the amusement glinting in his eyes before they came into contact with hers. In a fraction of a second, they widened ever so slightly, just barely enough for her to note the surprise before he schooled his features back into place.

“They said nothing,” he corrected, although one of his shadows curled around his ear. “I smelled you before I even came in. They did tell me however, that you seemed rather interested in buying a…love tonic, is it? Ah, sorry, a love tea.”

“That is something you don’t want to play around with, boy,” the herbalist interrupted, coming back from the back room with a heavy sealed box in her hands. She placed it on the counter with a huff, “You give that to your sick pets, you see. You boil it, let it cool, and put it in their water bowl. It’s for when they’re getting old and on death’s door. It helps keep them happy and untouched by pain until the time comes…” she drifted off, voice carrying a note of sadness. “I made it for my cat, you know. By my side for a hundred and seventy-one years, Love was,” she sighed, “I haven’t got a chance to finish the label.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Eowyn spoke immediately, fascinated by the herbalist's unrepressed emotions.

“Yeah well,” the herbalist tried to shrug it off, shyly wiping at her eyes. “Here ya go, my girl. You tell Clotho to take it easy on the sleeping tonics. Too much of that and you can grow dependent on it— and what’s worse is it loses its potency the more tolerance you build.”

“I’ll let her know,” Eowyn replied smoothly, not giving anything away, she was sure. Not even to the spymaster. “And thank you.”

“Now, what can I get for you?” She turned to the shadowsinger, but his gaze remained on Eowyn.

“I- do you need help carrying that back?” He interrupted himself to ask, but blinked at her when she made it disappear into the pocket realm without much effort.

“I’m good, thank you,” she smiled politely, deciding rather determinedly that she wouldn’t focus on the way he’d acted so out of character by teasing her of all things before being kind.

Not that he was typically rude or anything of the sort. He was just mostly…. there. Brooding. Face as emotionless and still as it was beautiful.

And did he say he smelled her when he came in? What the hell was that about?

“Have a good day!” She called out over her shoulder, cutting him off before he could insist as she sped out of the door and into the busy streets.

She made her way through the city, collecting pre-ordered packages from various stores and putting them in the pocket realm with the rest of her haul. By the time she made it to the Street of Iron, she was tired and hungry and more than a little dizzy from the amount of people huddling around her. She was used to being around no more than fifteen people at once, so to be going in and out of crowds for hours on end was starting to take a toll on her.

As was customary in the city, a bell signaled her entrance to the blacksmiths. The wave of heat suddenly wafted over her form, causing her to tighten her grip on her belongings, more than ready to step back outside. But she had an errand to run, a favor to do for her friend and she wouldn’t let Gwyn down just because it was hot inside the shop. 

After a quick inspection around herself to make sure there weren’t any lingering shadows following her about, she approached the counter, ringing the bell once to signal her entry.

“What can I do for you, lass?” a tall burly male asked from behind the counter, unshaven and with ash smeared across his face.

He looked familiar, in the way people originating from the same region look familiar, making Eowyn wonder how many families originating from the Winter Court resided in Velaris. And from other courts too, that is. 

“I have it under good authority this is where the Night Court's shadowsinger purchases his weapons,” she began to explain, “I’m looking to buy something for him, a blade. Something simple but something to his liking.”

The swordsmith gave her a curious, if not confused look. “The Shadowsinger hasn’t patronized this establishment in a few centuries, lass, but I reckon I still remember the Lord of Shadow’s taste.”

Lord of Shadows, huh? She almost snorted at the thought.

She considered his words to herself as he went off to search for what Gwyn had requested, if Azriel hadn’t bought any weapons from Eamon— if he was indeed the Eamon referred to on the store sign in the front— in centuries, how was this establishment his favorite?

She reminded herself that Gwyn had gotten that information straight from Mor, who was one of the most important people in Azriel’s life (and still continued to be—Gwyn had whispered conspiratorially one night as they talked in the lower levels of the library— even after being in love with the gorgeous blonde for well over five hundred years, before Elain was turned into fae. Eowyn had bristled in surprise at that, “isn’t Elain mated to one of the Autumn court sons?” she had asked, at that point so invested in the never ending drama that seemed to follow the members of the Inner Circle, that she didn’t care she had to finish writing her proposal to the High Lord for the funding of her greenhouse project she had planned, too entertained by their shenanigans. Gwyn had only nodded grimly).

So clearly, Gwyn knew what she was talking about.

When the blacksmith came back with a bronzed blade, showing it to her and exclaiming it was exactly the type of blade the Morrigan herself would pick out for the Shadowsinger, Eowyn took it. But not before her eye caught sight of something winking at her over the smith’s shoulder.

No, not winking or shining, exactly, considering it was so dark the blade itself seemed to absorb the darkness surrounding it. There was no light reflecting off of it whatsoever. Still… it called to her.

“May I see that one?” she asked, pointing at the blade.

“Oh I highly doubt the Master of Shadows would be interested in an obsidian dagger,” the smith shook his head but grabbed the blade anyway, turning it over in his hand to show her, “it’s a very fickle material, you see. The blade is made of obsidian stone, which is a type of volcanic rock that can break as easily as glass.”

“What's the point of making such a brittle weapon then?” she quietly echoed words she’d spoken long ago, musing mostly to herself.

“Ah, you see obsidian,” he began, his eyes suddenly lighting in nostalgic remembrance, “it provides for one of the sharpest edges that we know of.”

“So when it breaks, it leaves another jagged blade in its place,” she recited knowingly, not quite catching the way he nodded approvingly at her before he tilted his head, suddenly looking upon her differently.

Before he could ask her anything however, she proclaimed she wanted to purchase both blades and did so, making sure to have the blade intended for Azriel tucked within reach in the pocket realm, while fixing the obsidian blade in its sheath under her robes around her waist.

By the time she left the blacksmith’s shop, the position of the sun told her it was mid afternoon, as the sun only just began to inch towards the horizon. Feeling immensely proud of herself for successfully finishing her errands without needing to stop even once in alley to catch her breath or stumble into a restaurant, face-paled, and seemingly seconds away from either passing out or dying on the spot, she even felt further encouraged to continue on her adventure and perhaps indulge in a sweet treat for herself.

And so she did. With some kind of delicious seasonal concoction in her grasp, she picked out the most out-of-sight shaded table to sip at her spiced tea with steamed milk and simply… observed. She sat for the better half of an hour simply watching the fae live their lives, either rushing to work or strolling home. Some were shopping, others walked in groups, all beautiful and dressed to the tens, smelling strongly of wine and whiskey, and she found herself thoroughly enjoying herself. Remembering times when she was one of them.

When the sun inched even closer to the horizon, she finally stood, deciding to take the long walk back to the library, through the artist’s quarter, an avenue that she knew was a staple in the lives of the residents of Velaris.

One particular studio, not as boisterous or welcoming as others, caught her attention, or rather, a painting only barely visible from the window beckoned her inside. Needing to see the painting from up close, she didn’t hesitate to walk in, not noticing until a few minutes of her standing in front of the enchanting painting of a forest, too lost in the familiarity depicted, to notice the door had failed to signal her entrance, not having a bell above the door to do so, until she heard a strange sound come from somewhere in the back, a mix of a gasp and a yelp.

She turned to the sound immediately to find a rather pretty high fae, dressed in paint-splattered overalls, staring at her in what looked like confusion and a smidge of trepidation.

“Who are you?” The female questioned immediately and Eowyn could do nothing but blink back at her tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you closing soon?” A quick look around told her the space she thought was maybe some kind of small exhibit actually contained no true coherency, no descriptions under the paintings, and certainly no invitation whatsoever from the windows that looked out into the streets of Velaris. Realization dawning on her, Eowyn couldn’t help the embarrassed grimace, “oh… this is- this is a private studio isn’t it?”

“Ah, yes?” The female confirmed, but it sounded more like a question.

“I’m so sorry,” Eowyn apologized again, shifting in place as her eyes shot to the door, seconds away from running out until the female spoke again.

“No, no need to apologize, I was expecting my mate to come in so I didn’t lock the door. Foolish of me, honestly,” she chastised herself. Then her eyes caught Eowyn’s and something about the gray-blue shade of them made something in her brain perk up at attention. “I- was it this piece that caught your attention?” She turned to the painting that had called Eowyn in like a siren’s song, “I’ll admit I don’t think I’ve looked at this piece again since I finished it,” she tilted her head to the side, considering, “have you been?”

But Eowyn only shook her head, unsure of how to respond. “It just.. felt familiar, I think.”

The female hummed but didn’t reply, eyes seeming to scan her. “Are you… a priestess?”

And something about the way she spoke, the strength in her voice despite the sliver of uncertainty, caused understanding to click into place. And if that wasn’t proof enough then the following cry emitted from a small bundle cradled within a tiny bassinet in the furthest wall from the entrance, semi-hidden behind a canvas, would’ve given her away.

“My Lady,” Eowyn gasped, immediately dropping into a quick curtsy, even as the High Lady walked over to her whining babe, “I apologize, I didn’t know this was your private studio. I truly had no intention of bothering you-“

“You’re not, don’t worry about it,” the High Lady waved her off, eyes focused on the fussing baby she now cradled into her arms, shushing the babe gently as she bounced and rocked him. “Well? Are you?”

Sorry? Of course I am, Eowyn almost said, still spiraling at the fact that she’d just casually stumbled into what was essentially her court’s matriarch’s chambers, even if it was no different than any other store in a rather public area of the city. Then she remembered what her High Lady had asked. “Oh, a priestess?” She confirmed, “yes, well… something like that. I uh, I work for Clotho in the Library, if that’s what you mean. I’m-“ she hesitated, unsure, “I’m friends with Nesta. Kind of.”

But the High Lady took no offense, instead she surprised Eowyn when she snorted, “‘kind of’ sounds about right, although from what I’ve heard, my sister has been doing a good job of making friends lately,” she smiled at her warmly, “I’m glad of it.”

Eowyn could only smile back, if a bit awkwardly once she realized the High Lady couldn’t see anything but her eyes.

“I-“ she cleared her throat, eyes snapping to the gurgling babe in her arms, “I’d like to offer my congratulations for a successful birth, if that’s not too intrusive of me to say. I… well, we heard about the difficulties you were facing when the High Lord asked us to help him research all those months ago, and- well, I’m just glad everything worked out in the end.”

“Me too,” Feyre smiled at her, turning her attention to look at her son adoringly.

“May I ask their name?”

“We named him Nyx,” her smile widened, seemingly pleased at her question and the opportunity to gush about her baby.

At Eowyn’s hesitation, Feyre looked back up at her, eyes encouraging. Shyly but encouraged by her warm eyes, she asked, “may I see him?” Her voice was soft and low, “I’ve never seen a babe before.”

“You haven’t?” The High Lady’s eyes widened in surprise.

She gently pulled back at the thin material to reveal a minuscule wrinkled little face, tiny fingers gripping at the air at nothing. Although the child had little to no hair, the few tuff of soft looking feathered hair were as dark as night, his eyes still glazed with the initial protective membrane of a newborn depicting no true color until the child’s third year of age, according to some of the books the female fae had read about fae infants.

Although the High Lady presented her son proudly, Eowyn took notice of the way she didn’t offer the babe to her nor allowed for Eowyn to get too close, in a way that was not only expected of her but entirely necessary for her to do as one of the rulers of the court and a new fae mother.

Eowyn didn’t mind, however, as she remained in place with her hands clasped behind her back, only watching the baby’s toothless babbling fondly.

“I haven’t,” she replied, “I was the youngest of quite a large family, and none of my brothers had any children before I left for university,” she found herself explaining, unsure of why she wanted the High Lady to trust that she would never do anything to bring harm to her or her child. The cynical part of her mind considered that it could never hurt anyone to be in the High Lady’s good side, but despite herself, logic was not driving her, it was an unexplainable sense of familiarity with the High Lady that did. As if she knew her, as if she owed it to her to be accommodating and gentle.

And truly, she deserved no less. She had saved Prythian from Amarantha, after all.

“Was that long ago?” Feyre asked gently, if slightly stilted and Eowyn grinned behind her veil, amused at the lingering humanity of her High Lady.

“I’m two-hundred and seventy-six years old,” she answered her unspoken question, “which means I’ve spent more than half of my life either with my nose in a book or talking about whatever I found in those books, which left little room to visit any place where children could be. I wasn’t exactly looking for them, either,” she admitted, not noticing when she’d lifted one of her hands, only her smallest finger held out near the babe, where he gripped her with surprising strength in his little fist.

“Perhaps Heracles would have been a more fitting name,” she suggested mildly, causing Feyre to chuckle, eyes alight with humor.

“You know of the human stories?” 

Eowyn nodded and hummed in response, “I’ve always found human legends and mythologies fascinating,” she confessed, “it took up much more of my research than was necessary—“

Suddenly a whooshing sound caught Eowyn’s attention, causing her head to snap to the door. Without thinking about it, she angled herself to stand in front of her High Lady and the babe, eyes set firmly on the door when it flew open, revealing Cassian.

Eowyn exhaled in relief just as Feyre chuckled behind her, “everything okay, Cass?”

His eyes flicked between the two females, releasing his own relieved breath, “yeah yeah, just looking for Eowyn.”

“Me?” She asked, startled.

“Clotho told Rhys she was expecting you a couple hours ago. We’ve been looking for you for about an hour now, missy,” he chided playfully, eyes back to their natural mirth now that he knew he didn’t have to search further for her. 

Embarrassed, she apologized to him profusely but he merely waved her away. “Really, it’s no problem. I'm just glad we found you,” but then his eyes glazed over slightly as if lost in thought.

Eowyn’s eyebrows scrunched, glancing at Feyre in concern only to have the High Lady chuckle at her reaction. “He’s letting Rhys know you’re fine.”

Ah, right. Daemati beings, their monarchs were.

Eowyn found herself slightly disappointed to leave mid-conversation, but she graciously thanked her High Lady for her time and apologized once again for invading her space. Feyre was quick to assure her, admitting she was curious to keep talking to her and even asked if she’d be willing to receive her at the library if she wasn’t comfortable joining her in the River House.

After agreeing to stay in touch, Feyre walked them out before locking the door behind them, not after assuring Cassian a half-dozen times that Rhys was already on his way to take both her and Nyx back home.

Eowyn and Cassian walked in comfortable silence in the direction of the library when she shivered slightly from the cold, mentally cursing herself for deciding to take the long way back earlier in the day. 

“You know, I could just… fly us back to the house,” he suggested mildly, not looking at her, “if you’re comfortable, of course.”

“I-“ she hesitated, mentally weighing her options.

“Or we can walk, I’ve no problem with that. It’s about two and a half miles back to the house, which is about a five minute flight but if you want to walk I’m sure you’ll warm up with the exercise.”

“Oh it’s not you,” she assured quickly, “I’ve just never… not been grounded before,” she explained awkwardly.

He only chuckled under his breath, eyes glinting with mischief, “you afraid of heights, Wynnie?”

The nickname and the challenge in his tone sparked something she had believed to be dead and buried deep within her, not realizing how present the sentiment was until that moment. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt since her formative years, a sibling-like teasing that was both mocking and cruel as it was gentle and sweet. She hadn’t been called that since… well.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” the sharp words were out of her mouth before she could think, as was any kind of sense and sign of maturity, “and don’t call me that.”

He chortled, seemingly taken aback by the quickness at which she replied, but his grin only grew and she knew she’d made a mistake to show her distaste for the nickname.

“Is that a yes to flying then?” When she nodded, he only smirked at her. “Good, my wings were getting cold. Now, here, I’m gonna hook one arm under your knees and the other around your upper back, maybe under your armpit if I need to adjust your weight, is that alright with you, Wynnie?”

When she agreed, with an exaggerated eye roll, if only to hide her nerves, not having been near a male in so long that even if she felt no attraction to the objectively beautiful male, she still felt herself stiffen at his proximity. He placed his hands exactly where he said he would, not seeming to falter the slightest under her weight before taking off into the skies. She held her breath, feeling the panic surge the higher they went, but once they were elevated high above the city streets, she found herself breathless for an entirely different reason.

“Oh wow,” she sighed under her breath, eyes glued to the city under her.

“Haven’t seen Velaris at night like this?” He sounded surprised, “how long have you been here, now?”

“About half a century,” she replied absentmindedly, taking in the array of city lights and life of the city of Night. “But you know we don’t leave the library… especially at night.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, “hm, and why were you out and about today then?” He asked, although not judgmental or intrusive, his tone carrying the same distantly familiar teasing lilt.

But the shift in the air, the sound of whooshing wings caught her attention, causing her to tear her eyes from the city lights and over Cassian’s shoulder to see Azriel quickly approaching them.

His eyes locked on hers, face as serious and emotionless as always, as he only offered her a nod in acknowledgment.

“I was running errands,” her voice trailed off, suddenly feeling too exposed.

They flew the rest of the way in comfortable silence, other than Cassian pointing out different sections: the Street of Iron, the Sidra to which Eowyn rolled her eyes and mumbled no, really? under her breath which encouraged him to pretend to drop her, laughing all the while. She remained silent for the rest of the ride, pale and clutching onto his shoulders with her nails, deciding on making a formal complaint to his mate for her to deal with as she saw fit, and she told him so when her feet landed softly on the landing pad in the House of Wind. 

She would’ve preferred being taken directly to the library entrance, but she kept that to herself, aware that it would cause an unnecessary trip around the other side of the mountain and she could just as easily take the stairs down. The fact that the general and the shadowsinger had taken the time to look for her was obtrusive of her enough.

And so she thanked the still laughing general, both for looking for her and for flying her home, to which he grinned graciously back at her, telling her he expected her at her best the following morning for training and bidding her goodnight over his shoulder as he made his way inside. 

She turned to look out at the city once more but was surprised to find Azriel unmoved from the spot where he had landed, half expecting him to blend into his shadows and disappear as he was prone to do.

“Oh,” she flinched slightly and watched as his gaze dropped from its place on hers and he moved his hands behind his back, “sorry. You startled me. I uh- goodnight?” she said slowly, unsure of how to act.

“You’re carrying an obsidian dagger,” he stated more than asked, “why?”

“Did you follow me?” She answered with a question of her own.

“If I had, I wouldn’t have looked for you for twenty minutes,” he replied plainly. Twenty. Not the hour Cassian had said he’d looked for her. She noticed his tone no longer held that hint of playfulness that it carried when they ran into each other in the city. She wondered if she’d offended him, somehow.

She figured he had a point and reached inside her robe to take out the blade, eyes locked on his as she flipped it in her hand to hand it to him, helm first. He took it, hand almost entirely enveloping her own as he did, but he didn’t linger on the touch, immediately pulling away with his eyes locked on the dagger. “It’s brittle.”

“It’s beautiful,” she corrected, “and sharp enough to inflict substantial damage.”

“This would be useless in battle,” he frowned at her, and while she noticed that his tone didn’t contain that typical patronizing male sense of omniscience, he was after all, only a male and did not see the bigger picture, “it would kill some soldiers, sure, but mostly cause superficial wounds, especially once it begins to chip and-“

“Become jagged and thus cut more wickedly as it remains sharp. You know, when properly forged, an obsidian edge can be so sharp it can skin the outer layer of an eye without so much as touching the layer underneath,” she sighed, thoughtfully, “and there is of course, the cultural aspects of it-“

“Which would belong to Illyrian traditions as this material only forms under the volcanoes deep within the mountains,” he finished for her without missing a beat, his own eyebrows scrunching together in thought, “what do you know about that?”

“More than you think,” she frowned back, not liking the way he made her feel perceived beyond what she was comfortable with. She took the dagger back, careful not to touch his warm skin although she was half frozen above the mountain, “I know they can be used for religious practices, the crystallized volcanic glass was believed to be the Mother’s spilt blood from the life she created, which hardened into an igneous rock devoid of all color,” she inspected the blade, looking up at him to see his eyes set on her rather than the dagger.

She inhaled sharply, “and anyway, I just liked it and don’t have to explain to you why I bought it,” she defended, sheathing the dagger before crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped looked more like an indignant action of defense rather than the fact that she was beginning to shiver with cold.

“Right,” he muttered shortly, eyes glancing over her shoulder to the stairs leading into the library. She followed his gaze. “It’s getting late. You should head back inside. Goodnight, Eowyn.”

She nodded, opening her mouth to agree with him but when she turned back to him, he was gone.

part three

[lvrcpid]

boyfriend hcs!

includes : neteyam. lo’ak. ao’nung. rotxo.

authors note : this is just a filler post while i work on other things

neteyam

he’s constantly taking care of you. you have a tendency to overwork yourself a lot and neteyam is the first to catch onto this, he definitely pulls you away from whatever you’re doing to make sure you’ve eaten and gotten proper rest. if you’re stubborn about it, he will sit on you until you agree to rest.

he isn’t afraid to be vulnerable around you. neteyam isn’t the type to put on a front in front of his partner. if he’s upset, it will show. you’re his shoulder to cry on and he’s so grateful to you for that. he loves the fact you never judge him when the stress of being the oldest gets to him. he isn’t afraid to ask for a hug when he really needs it, sighing and melting into your arms as he does so.

lo’ak

he’s always getting giving you gifts. lo’ak is very awkward and afraid of embarrassment so when he wants to express his love to you, you will always find bracelets and necklaces on your pillow. he definitely pays attention to things you like and don’t like. you like the color purple? expect a purple beaded necklace on your pillow by eclipse. he may or may not have made himself a matching one.

he loves making you laugh. lo’ak is a jokester, everyone knows this. it’s what drew you to him in the first place. of course you thought he was just being funny for show but no, this is his personality. he definitely makes jokes at the wrong time which results in you slapping his leg with your tail. when you guys were alone you busted out into laughter.

ao’nung

he will always defend you. ao’nung was weary of you in the beginning, constantly calling you a freak but once he got to know the real you , all of that stopped. of course his friends are still assholes so they periodically mess with you, but ao’nung is quick on their tails to defend you and tell his friends to back off.

he remembers the little things. ao’nung likes to play dumb with you. he will mess with you and play around like he forgot things you told him about yourself when in reality he retains every word that comes from your mouth. he took you to a waterfall once because you mentioned that you always wanted to see one..2 weeks ago. of course you cried cause you didn’t think he was listening that intensively.

rotxo

he sings to you. rotxo is a great singer in my head. he’s always in your lap humming or singing when doing daily chores with you. something tells me that he’s always singing lullabies that were once sung to him as a child to you when you can’t sleep or when you’re upset.

he cheers you on. rotxo is your biggest cheerleaders he always has the biggest smile on his face and cheering the loudest when you race ao’nung or even when you succeed in weaving a basket. your accomplishments are his accomplishments and no matter what he will always be proud of you.

[calamitoustide]

June 1st: Stitches | jegulus | @taylorswiftmicrofic |wc 606 | cw: blood

“Quit being a baby.” 

James rolls his eyes, “You’re the one who can’t even look at my hand.” 

Regulus glances down only to grimace at the sight of the blood, even with a cloth wrapped around it. It was a stupid accident really. Regulus had to spend the entire time at his parents' house packing up all their old things in boxes and figuring out what to do with old antiques neither he nor Sirius would ever want. Emotionally the act of it wasn’t draining, but being in that house again certainly was. James wanted to go with him but Regulus declined, it was just going to be him and Sirius, and James respected that. He wanted to make dinner for him to come home to instead, one of his mum’s recipes. He called her that morning and everything making sure every detail of it would be right… and then well… It was already getting late and Regulus was going to be home soon so he was trying to rush. Then the blood spilled all over the cutting board and James couldn’t even register the pain of it all before Regulus was walking in. 

That’s how they got to now. 

“I don’t like blood,” Regulus mutters, even saying that he still lifts the bandage to take a look at the damage again. 

James just laughs at him, “Weren’t you pre-med?” 

Regulus sends him a pointed look, “Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying how did you expect to actually pass if you can’t stand the sight of a little blood?” James teases. 

Regulus shakes his head, “Do you want me to just finish the job and rip your finger off?” 

James reaches forward with his other hand so grab at his cheek, “You love me.” 

Regulus pushes him away, “You bug me.” 

James hums, overtaken by the concern on Regulus’ face as he looks back at the wound. He finds his thumb trying to push away the worried crease between his eyebrows. Regulus doesn’t slap his hand away, he lets him drag it down to his cheek. Regulus doesn’t look up at him again and he pauses, “What is it?” 

Regulus sighs, “You cut yourself,” he says, but it comes out more like a whine. Regulus will never admit it to anyone but he’s always the first one to coddle James. More so than James coddles Regulus which is actually a hard thing to accomplish. He’s always been the softer one between the two of them. He kisses James’ old scars and watches him with big wide eyes when he speaks. James wants to hug him. He wants to place kisses all over his face until he melts in his hand. 

“Yeah,” James laughs shortly, “I got that much.” 

Regulus doesn’t laugh along with him, “You’re gonna need stitches, James.” 

James scoffs, “It doesn’t even hurt!” 

Regulus looks up at him, pausing for a prolonged moment. As the moment goes on there’s a sharp stinging in James’ hand, almost like a buzzing in his ear he’d forgotten the sound of. It starts off small until it overwhelms him—it’s everywhere. 

“It just started hurting, didn’t it?” 

James bites his tongue, not knowing if he can speak without his voice straining, “Uh-huh.” 

Regulus laughs softly, “Come on,” he places his hand on his lower back as he guides him to the front door. 

James pouts, “You’re so mean to me.” 

Regulus rolls his eyes, “I’ll buy you a toy after.” 

James shakes his head as Regulus opens the passenger side door for him, “I want ice cream.” 

Regulus sighs softly, “Then you’ll get ice cream, now get in the car.” 

[ametrictonofaudacity]

yandere platonic supes I am BEGGIBG, there’s not enough yandere platonic Superman I am starved for content, blease

Yes absolutely!!! I am also starved for Yan platonic Superman, so we would get along well!!

Shout out to @blughxreader and @anxiousnerdwritings for so much of my inspiration, and if you like yandere dc works, you should check them out!!

Yandere Platonic Superman x GN! Reader

Warning: This is a yandere work, and as such, has themes of obsession and captivity! Because this is Superman, it’s a much milder work than usual!

“Hey! How was your day?” Warm, almost inhumanly hot, arms, wrap you up into a tight hug, and you blink in shock. You hadn’t even heard him get home, much less approach, and although it makes your heart race, you feel your nerves begin to settle.

“Good! I got to work on the garden I’ve been wanting to start.” You motion to the freshly filled earth, the hard dirt clods having been broken up. “Still have to mix the gardening soil in, and the fertilizer.”

“You did really good! I think we should head inside though, you’re starting to look a little parched.” You sigh, but nod, brushing the sweaty hair out of your face. Mr. Kent beams, stepping back from the hug, ruffling your hair gently. You try to ignore the way your heart leaps into your throat, or his concerned glance.

“So what about you? How’d your day go?” You mumble, trekking up to the tiny farm house in the distance. Mr.Kent keeps pace easily, the wind tugging gently on his red cape.

“It was good! There wasn’t much for me to do today, although one of the supports on the Golden Gate Bridge gave out. Me and few other heroes got that sorted fairly quickly, and no one got hurt.” You knew, logically, that he accomplished more in one day than teams upon teams of first responders could ever manage in a week, but being confronted with the knowledge caused a strange sort of dissonance. He had always just been Mr. Kent. Nice, a bit clumsy, willing to help you and your folks when you needed it. Always wearing a button up or sometimes a flannel when he visited, with the strange sort of softness to his accent that you knew happened when someone moved to the city. You hadn’t known him well, but had been close enough to invite him for Thanksgiving when you had heard he wasn’t spending it with his family.

Maybe that was your mistake. Maybe you wouldn’t be here, on a plot of land in the middle of nowhere, if you had just let him stay lonely.

You blink when you realize the farmhouse is much closer.

“I’ll get changed and make us some dinner, okay?” A hand smooths over your hair, and you smile. If he was cooking dinner, that meant you had time to shower, and get the dirt and grime off you.

“Okay.” You murmur, and he beams, the screen door closing behind the both of you. “I’m not allowed to use the stove anyways.” You mutter after him. You know he hears you, but he doesn’t respond, the door to his room closing behind him.

You take your time showering, and changing into the soft, clean pajamas that he had bought you so long ago they were beginning to wear, and gray at the cuffs. He would wait for you to eat, you knew, and he never pestered you unless he was worried about your safety. Which was pretty often, admittedly, but he had been getting better about not constantly fretting.

“Hey, kiddo! I made your favorite.” He grins, and the smell of warm food drifts up, making your stomach growl hungrily. He presses the plate into your hands. “Figured we could do something special, since today’s such a special day.”

You frown, tilting your head, even as you tried to remember. There weren’t any calendars in the house, and the only passing of time you were aware of most times was the rising of the sun.

“It is?” You question, taking a bite of your food. It melts on your tongue, and you glance at the rest of the house, frowning.

Your stomach drops when you realize. There’s four perfectly wrapped presents on the small coffee table in front of the couch, and a cake from your favorite bakery. There’s also a pie, which you know was made by Ma Kent.

You look back. Mr. Kent looks almost sad, and when he speaks, his voice is gentle, sympathetic.

“It’s your birthday, kiddo. I was thinking, since you’ve been so good lately, we could do something special.”

“Like what?” Your voice cracks, but he doesn’t say anything. You don’t know if your grateful or not.

“Well, I know you’ve been working really hard in that garden of yours. And since you’ve been so good lately, I was thinking we could go to visit a greenhouse! Spend a couple days out and about, so you can get out of the farmhouse every once and while.”

You stare. You hadn’t been allowed off the property in.. months. Five, nearly six. The prospect was exhilarating. And terrifying.

“Really?! When are we going?” You try not to sound to excited, but you must fail, because he chuckles.

“Easy there, slow your roll. We’ll be going at the end of the week. Now, finish your food so we can open presents, yeah?”

The food is tasteless after that. It’s good, sure, but that pales in comparison to how your heart hammers with adrenaline and excitement. You were finally, finally getting off the property! And if you couldn’t escape then, you could escape later, and maybe even go home.

Soon, you’re both finished eating, and he herds you to the couch, pulling out a camera from its case. It’s an expensive digital one, the one you know he used for work.

“You know you can just use your phone camera, right?” You point out, and he chuckles.

“Call me old fashioned. Let me get it set up, and then cake and presents.” It takes him less than a minute to set it up, the motions experienced and practiced. “You ready?”

You nod. He lights the candles on the small bakery cake.

It’s the strangest birthday you’ve ever had. Mr. Kent is the only one singing the birthday song, and you’ve always had a large family with a lot of siblings. When you blow out the candles, he doesn’t let you eat the frosting off them, instead plucking them off and setting them on a ceramic plate.

Your presents are odd, too. You were used to useless, impartial presents. This wasn’t that. He had gotten you the dvd copy of your favorite TV series, a set of hardback books, a new outfit, and a telescope, all neatly wrapped in blue wrapping paper.

“The outfit is for when we go out.” He explains, watching as you unfold the blue button up. “We’re going to be visiting Lois, so I figured you would want to look nice.”

Your heart skitters in your chest, unsure. You hadn’t met Ms. Lane yet, he had always insisted you weren’t ready, but now not only were you leaving the property but you would also be meeting his wife.

“I do. Thank you.” You finally murmur, and he wraps you up into another hug, holding you a moment longer than he usually did.

“Of course. Why don’t you try some of your cake and I’ll clean this up, yeah?”

You watch as he cleans up, nibbling on the sweet treat, and when he is finally done, he sets aside all of your presents, putting in the dvd. You shift on the couch, used to this old routine, and when he sits on the couch, curl up next to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and bury his nose in your hair with a smile.

[saekkas]

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

summary: in which suguru geto helps brush your hair after a ride around town.

tags: 1.1k wc | f!reader | established relationship (they're dating) | some talks about insecurity and greed (doesn't delve into it much) | domestic au | no curse au | suguru is alive and well | satoru gives you a ride on his motorcycle (wink)

notes: my first time writing for sugu <333 forgive me if he's ooc here (。>︿<)_θ constructive feedback is always welcomed!

the apartment satoru parks in front of is nothing compared to the picket white fence, three story house you just visited.

in all honesty, the apartment is fine. it’s located in the middle of the city, only a ten-minute walk to where you work, the lift runs smoothly, security personnel are always on stand-by at the lobby, and you have an amazing view from the tenth floor.

even then, everything just seems to be lacking in one way or the other– the door to your apartment always creaks when you push it open, the neighbors are a tad too noisy, and every morning, the sound of honking horns never fail to wake you from your well-deserved sleep.

human nature is such a fickle thing– always so greedy, wanting more, more, and more. you pride yourself in how much you’ve accomplished, yet at the same time, it feels as if you’re still somehow behind every other person there is.

“i’m glad my pretty’s still alive and in one piece.”

the drawl of suguru’s voice is always a welcomed distraction– the sound just a little bit breathless when he calls your name. he waves from the lobby��s entrance before heading towards where you’re perched on satoru’s bike, hands still wrapped around the latter’s midsection.

hold onto him tight. i don’t care if you break his ribs, just get home safe, okay? suguru’s words still echo in your mind, along with satoru’s indignant shouts of hey! i’ll have you know, i passed my driver’s exam with flying colors!

the sight of your lover’s face is slightly obscured by your helmet’s visor– only half his face is visible to your eyes, and you giggle when he taps the top of the protective headgear. “sugu!”

“let me get that off for you,” he hums. his hands make quick work, unlatching the helmet’s buckle before gently lifting the visor, giving you a clear view of his eyes.

you’ve seen suguru’s eyes time and time again, whether in the morning or night. they’re pools of chocolate you melt into every day after coming home from work, amber-gold whenever he tilts his head as he laughs, the sun highlighting the colors even more–they’re a gentle reminder of how kindness and warmth can still persevere even in the midst of chaos.

“hello, beautiful.” there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, one that resembles satoru’s a little too much for your liking. “what are you looking at, hm? need my help taking off the helmet?”

you shake your head, still a little too starstruck by his eyes and the smile that spreads on his lips. suguru’s nothing but a gentleman– he offers his hand, wrapping one arm around your waist when your feet touch solid ground after what felt like years. "i'm good. thank you, baby."

he doesn't say a word, eyes soft as he helps take your helmet off either way. he holds the headgear in one hand, and you giggle, giddy, when he lifts a hand to pat your hair down– smoothing down the wild strands that cover your eyes.

the lovestruck expression on his face pinches into one of confusion when you shake your head– the tresses on your head flying wildly and back into your eyes. suguru huffs out a laugh before smoothing his hand against your hair– pressing a kiss to your forehead, all the while keeping eye contact. "what are you doing?"

you grin, wide and bright enough to let anyone in the vicinity know how much you're in love. "nothing."

he leans in, whispering sweet nothings against your ear, and you laugh when satoru lets out a groan. “is this what i get for safely driving your girl around town?”

“it’s not our fault that you’re single,” you quip, poking your tongue out at the white-haired menace before suguru even has the chance to open his mouth.

said male laughs, patting satoru’s back before he has the chance to rebut and cause a scene. “thank you, satoru. i’ll treat you to mochi next time.”

you both watch with amused expressions as satoru grumbles out a response of i’ll make sure to empty your bank account before he revs the engines and disappears into the night.

“he’s rubbing off on you.”

“no, he’s rubbing off on you!” the gasp you let out is pure dramatics, more so the hand that you put on your chest– imitating what you’ve seen satoru do hundreds of times before. “you’re even starting to use cheesy nicknames like him.”

“cheesy?”

the security guard nods his head as you both head into the apartment, playful banter filling the air. you keep up with suguru’s strides, quickly slipping into the lift, standing right next to him before the doors close.

he lifts a hand– one so delicate that your cheeks warm under his touch. “i thought you liked it, pretty?”

he’s always this way with you; soft, sweet, and gentle as if you’re a fragile piece of glass in a museum’s exhibit. there are hints of fatigue etched across suguru’s features– the way his shoulders droop as he walks and the darkening bags under his eyes, but when he’s with you, it’s as if he’s found the strength to keep moving onward.

as if your presence is what keeps him going.

“see?” you mumble, pushing past him as the doors open to your floor. you can hear his laughter, hear the soft thudding of his footsteps against the carpet as he keeps up with you, practically wrapping around you when you unlock the apartment door. “absolutely insufferable.”

“so mean, love.” his words are muffled against the fabric of your sweater, his hands wrapped snugly around your waist– there’s something about him these days. how he’s turned clingy, melting into a mush anytime you let him close to you.

for a moment, everything is silent– only the touch of suguru’s fingers, running through your hair.

“want me to help?” he mumbles, the sound of his voice startling you out of the sleepy state his fingers have coaxed you into. “i know how it gets after you go riding.”

it’s a tradition between you– one you know he knows goes without saying. you plop down between his legs, leaning until your back meets his chest. suguru’s hands are gentle as they brush through every strand, smoothing his hairbrush against the tangled ends.

once he's satisfied, he presses a kiss to the top of your head– suguru loves to play with your hair, the same way you do his. it could take him hours to fix your hair because of what he claims to be a single naughty strand.

in all honesty, suguru just loves you– thrives on being able to touch any part of you. even the thinnest ones.

“thank you, sugu.” you press a kiss to his cheek before laying your head on his shoulder. the pitter patter of rain hits the apartment’s windows, and the sky turns dark, the perfect ambience for a nap. “love you.”

you fall asleep after hearing his sweet whisper of love you too, dreaming of a life where it’s just you and him– white picket fence and all.

[alornights]

⟢ sleepovers and treatments

➜ in which ! kyle enters the world of lush and beauty.

💌 ﹫kyle broflovski.

✩ 🎸 warnings﹗none.

🍓 ⟡ notes — i need to get my lush life together tbh

kyle never was that interested in skincare or beauty if we're being real here, seriously guys, be honest.

of course he takes care of his hair but, very minimal.

so when he starts dating you and is invited for a sleepover at yours, he's beyond shocked at what he witnessed in your bathroom.

"Why do you have so much stuff." He murmured in disbelief, jaw dropped at the sight of your bathroom.

You laughed pulling out two face masks. "It makes me feel good, I feel accomplished and it makes me feel pretty."

He rolled his eyes, "I don't think you need all that though."

"Probably," You joked pushing him so he was sitting on the toilet, walking between his legs to start putting on his face mask, "But it's fun, it's cool, and it's trendy. And you feel like you aged down 50 years so I say that's a win."

"Oh really?" He questioned, his arms dragging you closer to him by your waist, giving you a kiss on your collarbone. "We'll see about that."

and see he did.

usually he would just, not do this. like he would just refuse.

but something about the way you just lit up whenever he let you do something had his heart melting.

so he let you put all kinds of products on his face, and tbh, took note of what might work, for research purposes ofc.

you even managed to get him to realize how bad his hair is and how he needs to bring it to its glory. lord knows how much he needed your advice on that one.

one of the main reasons he let you do this though, was because of how close you would get to him.

he loves you. which means he loves being around.

so the fact that you're so up and close to him most of the time sends butterflies to his stomach and almost gets him to giggle.

if you're standing while he sits, he'll let his hands rest at your hips to circle them or draw/write things into your skin.

extra points; he kisses any skin he sees to make you flustered.

extra extra points; you sitting in his lap so whenever he wants hell just start kissing your neck, whispering sweet nothings.

this whole ordeal lasts fucking hours. let's say you start at like 7, this shit will take up until 11 or 12.

why? either you two get distracted talking about gossip or kyle is being dramatic and refuses to do something.

"Do I have to?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow, watching you take out your nail equipment.

"Yeah, your nails are horrendous to look at. You have some hot hands, they can be even hotter with good nails." You explained with a smirk, "And it's not like I'm going to color them unless you want me to."

"... What colors do you have?"

ended up not doing any color nail polish sadly, one day you'll get him though. don't worry, time is unlimited.

"All this... for a bath." He uttered turning to you in shock seeing what you had laid out for him.

He tilted his head as he watched the bath continue to steam up. Looking to the end of the bath he realized there was a stool with a few things on it.

For one, his favorite drink was in a wine bottle. Ice and mini umbrella included. Then there was a radio with old classic hits playing, some grapes, a lit vanilla candle, and a bunch of different varieties of bath bombs.

All this, for a bath.

You simply smiled, "Welcome to the lavish life."

he will be doing this at home any chance he gets.

or he'll just go over to your place. either which works.

you tried for funsies to try and do his makeup and he simply refused knowing it would somehow get passed around.

but, he wanted to do your hair to see if he was any good (totally not bc he wanted to do it for you every day in case you didn't want to). and how could you deny your boyfriend?

you started off with braids and he was surprisingly good at it for his first time. a few mistakes but overall pretty good.

this is just a silly lil thing but i imagine the two of you listening to barbie, specifically can you keep a secret while doing your routine.

NO ACTUALLY I LIED, IT WOULD BE FABULOUS, SHARPAY EVANS. JUST IMAGINE DANCING TO THAT SONG IN FRONT OF MIRROR OH LORD. KYLE GOING ALL SASSY-

by the end of the night, he feels like a new man.

he's never, and in his words, "felt so clean"

"So...." Kyle murmured climbing onto the bed to lay his head on your chest.

You smiled immediately letting your hands play with his curls, "Hmm?"

".... When are we doing this again?"

[zerobaselove]

zb1 comforting you

pairing: zb1 x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of family problems in hanbin's kind of?, lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: guys !! im back !! did u all miss me?? SORRYFKJDH but really i missed writing and being here and interacting with you guys so i hope to be more active again,, life has just been a lot lately aaaa i hope you're all well !

jiwoong ;

to say you were having a rough day was an understatement. right from when you woke up things hadn't been going your way, it only continued to spill into your work day, and that's how you ended up in your break room, puffy eyes after a small breakdown. your supervisor had caught a glimpse of your state and told you to take the rest of the day off, which you happily accepted. you shot your boyfriend jiwoong a quick text, letting him know you were on your way, and you got a worried response. "everything okay?" it read, and you only sighed before replying, "I'll tell you once i'm home."

jiwoong had taken it upon himself after seeing your message to prepare an early dinner for you two. he couldn't help but worry that you weren't taking care of yourself enough since the promotion at your job and he wanted to help in any way he could.

soon enough you were coming through the front door, the smell of your favourite food immediately making your shoulders relax as you turned to see your boyfriend setting out cutlery for the two of you. "you can ramble to me after you get some food into you," he hummed, taking your jacket from you to hang up before joining you at the table. the sudden rumbling of your stomach at the sight of the meal in front of you brought out a chuckle from the both of you. "you really need to take care of yourself my love."

you sighed, knowing he was right. before you knew it you had both finished your meal and had found the both of you standing in the kitchen. "okay now, tell me about your day," he gave you a reassuring grin as you began to recite your less than ideal day to him. the boy listened intently, not interrupting you until you were finished. "okay," you breathed out, catching your breath, "i'm done, and now i just want to forget about it all."

without saying much jiwoong gave you a small nod and dragged you by the arm to the bathroom as he began to run a bath, "you need to relax," he smiled, "take a nice bath and don't worry about anything okay? and after we can watch any movie you'd like." your smile widened at the evening plans. "thank you jiwoong, for everything."

"you never have to thank me my love, ever."

zhang hao ;

you didn't frequently initiate skinship with zhang hao; it was more of his thing, he liked to initiate it and you liked to accept it. so when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind while he was sat at his desk, he couldn't help but turn to you worried. he lightly grabbed one of your hands as he turned to face you. "is everything okay?"

you stood there for a moment in silence before shaking your head. by the response you gave, zhang hao could tell that you didn't really want to discuss what was wrong, and that was okay by him. instead he spun his chair around to face you, pulling you into his lap. you couldn't resist the urge to melt into his touch, leaning into his chest as your head fell into the crook of his neck.

"you're amazing you know that?" he used his hand that wasn't around your waist to card through your hair, "i am so proud of everything you've accomplished." you only lightly shook your head in return, causing hao to keep the compliments coming.

"i'm serious y/n, you don't give yourself enough credit, you should be as proud of yourself as i am." he pressed a kiss to your forehead, causing a smile to erupt on your face at the contact. he let a similar smile spread to his cheeks, "there they are," his hand had now moved to cup your cheek, "my lovely y/n"

"sorry for interrupting your work," yuo pouted, glancing to his open laptop. he simply shook his head with a small smile, "never be sorry for that, there's nothing i'd rather do then be here with you, especially if you need me."

hanbin ;

"hey, whats up?" hanbin asked. without much thought you responded with a "not much." but hanbin only shook his head in return. "no i mean what's wrong love, your eyebrow is doing that thing when you get overwhelmed and you're bouncing your leg which you only really do when you're anxious or stressed. so what's up?"

you didn't realize just how easy you were to read until that moment. not to mention how amazed you were at the fact that hanbin had picked up on gestures that you weren't even aware you were doing. you shook your head in denial before sitting and pondering a moment, "except i guess," you started. "it's just stuff with my family, you know how they are." he gave you an apologetic smile as he placed his hand on yours, rubbing small circles with his thumb to attempt to soothe you.

his question had opened the floodgates as you rambled on about your family and the unnecessary stress and frustration they had been causing you over the last week. you couldn't lie, it felt good to get it off your chest, especially to someone like hanbin who made you feel heard in times like this.

"how can i help?" he gave a small smile, now fully holding your hand in his. "you've already helped just by letting me ramble, bin." but he wasn't having the humble response. "i have an idea."

your brow cocked in curiosity as hanbin grabbed a jacket and his keys off the table, followed by grabbing your hand to drag you out the door. before you could even begin to question where you were going you were already in the passenger seat of hanbin's car and he had begun to explain his plan. "you need to get out, and a nice night drive where you can scream all you want is the perfect plan in my opinion." he smiled at you, handing over his unlocked phone.

"now pick something good, and scream your little heart out."

matthew ;

walking through your front door after work had to be one of the best feelings in the world; letting out a loud sigh as you placed your keys on the counter and took your shoes off at the door. "long day?" matthew asked from the couch, ushering you over to where he was sat. "long doesn't even begin to describe it," you sighed, letting your body sink into the couch, "but every day lately has felt long."

"d'you wanna talk about it?" his bright smile caused a tired smile to spread across your own face, "honestly not really, just wanna spend time with you." his arm immediately pulled you closer into his side and you couldn't help but lean into his frame, resting your head on his shoulder and letting your eyes shut for a moment.

"well that i can do," he chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he let his finger trace shapes on the exposed skin on your side. there was a comforting silence for a few moments before matthew had spoken up again. "oh, i wanted to show you," he started, grabbing his phone and opening his messages. "my mom sent me a bunch of pictures of me as a kid if you wanted to look through them with me."

a smile quickly spread to your face, matching his beaming smile perfectly, "i would love to," you sat up a bit to see his phone better. some photos came with elaborate backstories told by matthew, which helped distract from the long day at work.

"so wait, you thought you could fly," he eagerly nodded his head, "so you jumped off the couch?" a sheepish grin replaced the expression on his face, "listen, it's not my proudest moment." you let out a loud laugh, the first one in what felt like ages. "how do you always know how to make me feel better?" you asked, locking arms with the boy next to you. "i'm just great like that, comes naturally." you lightly smacked his arm as he ran his hand through his hair.

"thank you my matthew," you smiled, "anytime, my y/n."

taerae ;

you didn't realize how lost in thought you had gotten as you stood in your bedroom until taerae's arms were wrapped around your frame with no words. it was like he had just appeared, and yet you immediately wrapped your arms around him in return without a second thought.

"what's this for tae?" you questioned, your words slightly muffled as you spoke into his chest. "you just looked like you needed a hug," he said simply, squeezing you a little tighter to him. much like before, you quickly got lost in your thoughts again. everything had been catching up to you lately and you felt like you were sinking, unable to come up for air. but here taerae was, like the sun, a glimmer of hope, a breath of fresh air. or maybe an outstretched hand to bring you back to the surface. he was exactly what you needed.

everything hit you at once and without realizing it, you were silently sobbing into his chest. your hands gripped tightly at the fabric of his t-shirt as if to try and pull him closer, or maybe stop him from floating away. the sudden outburst caught taerae a little off guard, but he quickly recovered as he ushered the two of you over to the bed, letting you lay in his arms as the tears fell from your face.

"shh, it's okay, let it out," he lightly rubbed your back. you had never felt so safe and cared for as you did in this moment, and you were so thankful. he let you cry into his chest until you were ready to tell him what was wrong. every once in a while he would move a stray hair out of your face, and one of those times you looked up at him with your glossy eyes and he couldn't help but smile at you, "hi darling."

you sat up a little, closer to eye level now as you finally spoke up, "i'm sorry about your shirt," you pouted, noticing the large patch on the fabric from your tears, "it'll dry, i'm more worried about you." he held your hand in his, "talk to me baby."

ricky; 

you hadn't heard ricky come through the front door, brain too occupied with varying thoughts that left you as you were now, tears streaming down your face in frustration. so to say you were surprised at the sudden worried voice from in front of you would be an understatement. "are you okay? did something happen? did someone do something?"

you quickly shook your head and waved your hand in denial, the other hand coming up to quickly wipe away the tears that had fallen, thought it was too late for that. "nothing like that," you reassured the blond boy, "just stressed is all." ricky got quiet as he made his way to sitting next to you on the couch, turning to fully face you.

"y/n, you don't have to bottle all of that up you know?" he started, placing his hand on your cheek, wiping away the last few tears that remained. "you know i'm here to share your burdens." you couldn't help but smile at the gesture and words. it wasn't that you didn't want to tell him, you just didn't think it had gotten this bad.

your eyes darted around the room, struggling to look him in the eye, "i know, i just didn't want to put it on you," you started, finally letting your eyes land on the boy in front of you, "you have enough on your plate as it." your excuse only got a sigh and a shake of his head as he took your hand in his, fully encapsulating your hands.

"let me be here for you, i want to help, even if it's just being someone to listen." his words were comforting and his tone sincere, leaving you to sit for a moment in awe of how lucky you were to have someone like him in your life. "are you sure?" you breathed out, still worried about contributing to his own stressors.

"i've never been more sure of anything in my life. i will always want to be here for you. always."

gyuvin ;

"hi gyuvin," you mumbled as you opened the door, letting the boy in before turning your back to walk back to your room, assuming he'd follow. before you could get too far his arms were wrapped around you from behind, his chin placed atop your head. "gyuvin? not even gyu? what's wrong?" he spun you around to face him, a confused and slightly concerned look on his face.

you sighed, "i don't really wanna talk about it if that's alright." you looked to the floor, not wanting to see his reaction. due to your action, you missed the new, determined look plastered across gyuvin's face. he was okay with not talking about it, but that meant he had to be the best distraction possible because he hated seeing you upset.

he let you get to your room before practically tackling you onto the bed, peppering rather ticklish kisses over your face as his hands went to your sides, causing you to squirm. a loud laugh escaped your lips followed by a fit of giggles from the both of you. "stop that tickles!" you let out between laughs, nearly kicking the boy in the process.

it wasn't long before you were both sprawled out on the bed, gyuvin's long legs hanging over the edge as you both let a comfortable silence surround you. "gyuvin i'm supposed to be upset right now." you huffed, arms crossing in front of you as you sat up and faced the boy. it didn't last long though as he quickly pried your arms apart.

"and where has that ever gotten you?" he laughed, holding your arms to your sides, "you're home and the day is over, it's time to celebrate!" he was sporting his usual grin as he looked at you expectantly, a small smile cracking at your lips, quickly erupting into the widest smile you could manage.

"see, much better."

gunwook ;

"do you want me to call you?" the text read, quickly typing back a yes as you wiped the tears from your eyes and cleared your throat. gunwook always knew exactly what to say, and you needed his reassurance now more than ever. it was only a few moments before your familiar ringtone that you had set for him blared through the phone speakers.

"what's wrong?" he quickly asked, not even wasting time with formalities. you hummed in contemplation for a moment, not exactly knowing where to begin with the seemingly endless list of causes for your current state. "everything," you let out a sigh, frustrated at yourself for not being able to articulate your thoughts well enough. "okay okay, one step at a time," his calm voice through the speakers was just enough to settle your thoughts for a moment, "start with what's most prominent in your mind right now."

you let out a breath as you started recounting the many stressors you had been dealing with lately. gunwook often giving a hum or small response to assure you he was listening, but overall staying quiet minus some shuffling. you continued your rambles until you were interrupted by an unexpected knock at the door. "hold on wook, someone's at the door."

"you should probably get that," you could almost hear the smile coming through the phone as you open the front door, seeing the boy standing tall in front of you. "do you have to go?" he spoke into the phone, causing you to giggle, "yeah sorry, someone very important just showed up." you smiled as you hung up the phone, preferring to hug the boy in front of you.

the two of you eventually pulled away to sit on your bed. "you didn't have to come over wook," you breathed out, trying to hide the joy that filled you by having him here. "you sounded like you needed more than a phone call," he smiled, grabbing your hand to play with your fingers, "okay, you can continue." he smiled wide at you.

"i would, but suddenly it feels like everything is okay again."

yujin ;

this time of year was always the worst in school. all of these final projects seemed bigger than the year before and the work was piling up on top of needing to study. to say you were stressed was an understatement to an immeasurable degree. and now yujin was hearing about it.

"i just am so overwhelmed," you let out a sigh, finally catching your breath at the end of your rant. yujin felt bad, he knew you were taking on huge course loads this year and he wasn't always the best at advice, but he was going to try his hardest. "well i can help with your project if you'd like." he smiled, fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater.

you shook your head, insisting that you'd figure it out, even if it meant pulling a couple all nighters. "nothing i can't handle," you pushed out a rather dull laugh which only made yujin push a little more. "c'mon y/n, it'll go much faster if you have help." he tried to reason, "plus we can do it at my house and go for ice cream at that place you like down the road after."

you couldn't help but smile at the effort of the offer, "you've sold me." you beamed, "but only if you promise we will go for ice cream." he held out his pinky to you, interlocking yours together. "pinky promise."

and he did keep his promise, the two of you having finished just as the sun was setting. after the hours of seemingly endless work, getting to sit and watch the sunset with your dessert in your hand felt like the best reward you could ask for. "thank you yujin," you smiled to the boy, "i couldn't have done it without you."

he chuckled, taking a spoonful of his ice cream before replying, "hey it's why you keep me around."

[wantonrowls]

Stray Kids drabbles: When their S/O is a tough cookie

Bang Chan

It was one of the corporate meetings to meet the artists and new management. Right then and there when he saw you strutting with your head held high, Bang Chan was smitten, visibly taken-aback by your presence. He can't help but lick his bottom lip from time to time, grasping his palms onto his cotton trousers, a habit of his when he's clearly put into a flustering situation. A couple minutes later when he had the chance to get to talk to you alone about the upcoming comeback of his group he mustered up every nerve he had to intimidate you. So yeah, there you were shifting on the pages of the minutes sheet that your secretary gave you earlier all the while waiting for him to talk, he leans closer almost covering you with his build which in fact is massive and spectacular, breath almost tickling the shell of your ear but hey, you're not quivering.

"Uhm about the comeback, I think we should make this song..." he points at the scribbled list of tracks, allowing his musky scent to linger your face "the main song, yeah?" he continues.

"I don't know. You should've cited that a while ago, when the board was here"

"Aren't you the head of the board?"

"I am, yes. But that doesn't change the fact that we all had to agree on that before changing the whole set of track list"

"Oh, what should I do to persuade you hmm?" He smirks at your face. Alright he looks handsome when he does that.

From then on he kept on bugging you and when I said bugging it meant that he pampers you with gifts, which of course at first is like an insult.

"I don't wear necklaces"

"I'm allergic to tulips"

"I don't like sweets"

Bang Chan was challenged. Hey, he's a leader and with his alpha-like mindset he doesn't back down easily even if every single time you turn him down or shoo him off of your office. That was the case until you finally melted down your facade, leaning in and showing him your vulnerable side when that one time you encountered a problem during a meeting and he was there to defend you. That's when you realised that he wasn't acting up to challenge you or intimidate you but to simply adore you.

When you finally gave him the appropriate opportunity to date you he was more than glad to treat you like a queen, not quivering with every piercing gaze you throw his way instead returning back with a lovely gaze, you swore his eyes looked like two hearts.

What Bang Chan treats you in public is equal to what he treats you in bed. He's almost content to do anything that pleases you as long as it's you. If you request to ride him or his face he'll gladly do so for however long you wish.

He's aware of your tough personality which makes him an accomplished man by dating you so when people compliment him or just simply ask him how did he do that he's just gonna say he's still figuring you out because he's still on his toes most of the time.

Lee Know

Everyone knew that Lee Know also has an intimidating aura. Putting you and him in the same room with you fixing some mistakes in his choreo is a huge mess, or so they think.

They know his pride is as big as the mountains and they know your ego is just as big so neither one of you are backing down. It took Hyunjin or Felix to tap him on the shoulder to allow you to fix some errors which are clearly there, just that Lee Know doesn't want to acknowledge.

"We just had to change this step to polish it" Felix comments

"Yeah let her do her job" Hyunjin follows

"Am I not doing my job?" Lee Know asks with a brow raised

"Not if you're ignoring my comments about this choreo" You spat back. He sighs, allowing you to step in and do the rest of your task. You saw him smirking back at you onto the mirror whenever your eyes landed onto his, You just shrugged it thinking he's just not convinced or whatever. He finally corners you at the lockers while you're picking up your towel he pushes you by a side of your shoulder

"Hey Ms. perfect"

"Hey Lee Know"

"What brings you here at the entrance of the shower room"

"I forgot to tell you something" He leans in, lips just inches away from the corner of your lips "You did amazing on the choreo. I was just messing around with you" he breathed "Now I'm gonna start to do that everytime" he continues, smirking at you and staring you down.

Messing around did he, faking a wrong step, waiting for you to scold him and teach him alone in the middle of the night, pushing his luck at you every single time. To no avail you don't try to push him off and instead don't pay much attention to it and do your job it's just that it's extra hard when he clearly doesn't wanna let you be alone 24/7 when you're around.

"If you hate me that much just say so"

"You know I can't just do that, you're too much"

"In love with you, yes"

Every annoying thing he did was just a front to show you his goofy side so when he knew that the manager scolded you for something that you clearly had no hold to he had to step in and voice out on your behalf. Who dares to badmouth his lifeline? the audacity right? Just his gaze alone made the manager quiver, quickly apologizing to him and to you. You've shown him your vulnerable side, there's no backing down to that. He'll act as if he's much more offended than you even though he has no connection whatsoever.

So, with no hesitancy he's much more than glad that you leaned in on him. Allowing him to court and eventually date you.

What Lee Know acts like when someone's around is an opposite when you two are alone. If in public you fluster him infront of the members or you're intimidating him with a cold hard stare then in bed he's like a different Lee Know. He'll push you onto the bed and manhandle you like he knows it's his place to do so while still absolutely taking much extra care of you both pleasure and care-wise.

Seo Changbin

As buff as he is, Changbin won't hesitate to shoot his shot at your way, throwing a wink everytime he sees you. Of course it was absurd, you're the head stylist and he's an artist, nothing is more clearer than the fact that he must be doing fan service and not straight up flirting at you.

Which you're wrong on a hundred percent, he's really flirting. He stated it when you were doing his measurements and purposely being last so he could ask if he could give you a gift

"No, I'm not allowed to accept gifts"

"But I already bought it"

"Changbin-"

"Throw it away if you don't like it" he pouts then leaves you with a box, when you opened it, it was a key to the newly bought sportscar on the parking lot

"How the fuck am I supposed to throw this out?"

If you're not familiar with Changbin, you'll think oh he's kinda like Lee Know, he's intimidating and I could melt with just his presence alone. But hey, he's just a big buff baby WHO will literally throw finger hearts your way if no one's looking just for the sole purpose of annoying you. Even throwing a wink from time to time that one company dinner. Flabbergasted is an understatement, this clearly is just a whole ass man throwing himself at you like a starved puppy. He sees you as a woman who takes pride with her work so when the unknown negative comments about their concept photos emerged he was more than ready to speak up about it. He knows you prepared well and that you did your best so he won't hesitate to judge every single one of the snarky people like every person looks like JYP to him.

When you knew what he did, you finally broke down your walls, allowing him to see a new version of yourself only available for his to see. He's much more glad that you've given him the chance and that he would take it to his pride that he singlehandedly managed to date an intimidating woman.

He's the type to enjoy slow romances in bed so his main focus is your pleasure and your pleasure alone. He's super careful and makes sure that you're comfortable. He could also be rough from time to time.

Han Jisung

This guy will rizz you until you acknowledge his presence. He's the type to throw lame pickup lines or jokes to get any response from your end. Haha ha, must've been a wrong day or a wrong time or his underwear was of a wrong color because you're clearly not laughing at the yo mama joke he's blurted out at the studio. It's as if you wanna explode on your seat because you had been working with him on this single track and he doesn't wanna be serious

"Hey Jisung, it's 2 in the morning"

"Oh! time for breakfast, wanna go to Mcdonalds?"

"That means we already had five hours wasted because you kept on messing around"

"Nah, you're just hungry, babe. C'mon! my treat!"

"Quit messing up and fix the track yourself" You sighed, standing up and heading out of the studio. He's....intimidated with just the way you silently left without shouting at him or slamming the door back. He clearly doesn't wanna mess around it's just that it was the first time that he had a chance to be with you alone so he took the opportunity to be beyond annoying not knowing that it had been a whole day for you stressing out.

The next day when you came back at the studio he's already finished the track, smiling at you and showing you what he had done when you were taking a rest.

"I'm impressed. There's no need to fix in here, Jisung"

"Thanks! I was just inspired, and uhm... I'm sorry I made you stay up late last time"

"Nah it's alright"

"How about I treat you, yeah?"

MF will literally take it like he had to run dry his express card just so you could forgive him even though you're not mad at him.

"When you said you'll treat me to dinner, I never imagined to eat blue lobsters...I thought we had to go down just a block from the building to eat Mcdonalds"

"Mcdonalds are lame, you deserve blue lobsters"

"We could pay half and half"

"No"

"Uhm... I'm just returning the favor"

"How about a date then?"

You wanna say no but in the corner of your eye you see him in his big doe eyes...how can someone say no....

"Alright..."

He's flustered and walking on egg shells most of the time when working with you, not wanting to have another opportunity for you to leave frustrated BUT as I said, he'll rizz you with his antics. He'll ask for you at the studio with or without Changbin and Bangchan to a point they wanna disown him cause he kept on sitting beside you and call your name.

"Y/N how about we put this tune here?"

"Let's listen to it"

Jisung is the type to change the words of the song just so he can see you wided-eye and clueless. It's gonna come to a point where you're gonna be the one to back down and accept this romance he wanted to project.

Jisung in bed will mostly favor you because he wants to prioritize your wants and needs. He's just content to run his hands down every part of your skin.

(I'll add the next part tomorrow)

[tolietpaperdreams]

Hysteria Final Chapter! (Hartbreak)

It’s finally here! This is it! It’s been so fun to write this story, I can’t believe it’s finally done 🫶🏻 Thank you so much to everyone that has stuck with it since the beginning, this is actually my first completed multi-chapter fic and I feel super accomplished.

Thank you all for reading and enjoying it means the world!

Here’s your tooth-rottingly sweet finale <3

The day of the pay-per-view was here. Bret felt good about it. He’d trained to his best ability and the match was mapped to the umpteenth degree. There was nothing else to do except maintain his readiness.

The build-up had been fantastic, Shawn was as charismatic as ever. He was so over with the fans that every time Bret went to speak on the mic he was booed to the point of silence. Bret couldn't even be mad, it meant he was doing his job.

That morning at the hotel. Bret woke Shawn up with sweet kisses all over his face; he wanted to make sure his partner felt nothing but support.

“Mmph…” Shawn scrunched his eyes closed and tried to bury his face back into the pillow.

Bret nibbled on Shawn’s earlobe in response, earning another tired groan from the blonde.

“Lemme sleep,” Shawn half-heartedly pushed Bret away, to no avail.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta get to the arena early today,” Bret placed one more kiss on Shawn’s cheek and added a playful pat to his ass.

Shawn whined again, pulling the extra pillow over his face while Bret stood and stretched.

“Dramatic ass…” Bret huffed under his breath, earning a pillow thrown straight to his face.

“Am not,” Shawn sat up, his hair sticking up in every direction and the sleep still in his eyes.

“Do you want breakfast or not?” Bret chucked the pillow right back but Shawn got lucky and caught it.

The blonde shook his head, “I’ll figure something out there.”

“Alright, well get up, we’re leaving in fifteen,” Bret said as he threw a t-shirt on.

“Jesus- okay, you're so bossy,” Shawn grumpily stood, his back stiff.

At the arena, they stalled backstage with each other. Shawn would have to go do his pre-show ritual with Hunter and the guys and Bret would do his with his friends. They probably wouldn't see each other till the match, but it was for the best.

Most people backstage knew they were a ‘thing’ but it was better not to raise eyebrows before a pay-per-view. Shawn had gotten quiet on the ride over, and Bret could tell the nerves were starting to get to him.

Bret felt his own version of pre-show nerves, but it wasn't about his performance, it was about how he was going to make Shawn look out there. There was a bit of sadness in dropping the title, but he had gotten over that. He needed to put Shawn over, that's what mattered.

“You feeling okay?” Bret asked, hiking his gym bag higher up on his shoulder.

Shawn nodded while fidgeting with his hands, “I’m fine, just a little nervous.”

Bret leaned in and placed a soft kiss to Shawn’s lips, “You’re The Show Stopper, remember?” He titled Shawn's chin up with a finger.

They hadn't discussed Shawn’s confession over the phone a few days ago. Bret wanted to when he first saw Shawn after their few days off, but he’d been shut down. Shawn acted like everything was normal which threw Bret off entirely. How could he just confess that he was in love with Bret and then act like nothing happened?

He was beginning to wonder if he had misheard Shawn, but he’d worry about it later. After tonight, Shawn would be champion, and they had all the time in the world to figure life out as it came at them.

The look of affection in Shawn’s eyes made him melt. Bret was so wrong about Shawn initially- he was someone who felt his emotions fully and wore them on his sleeve. Shawn wasn't perfect by any means, but he was perfect for Bret.

Bret who was calm, cool, and collected- Bret who couldn't talk to people without stumbling over his words. He needed someone like Shawn to bring him out of his shell. It was a balance he’d never known before.

Shawn nodded, the confidence slowly coming back to him, “I know.”

“Good,” Bret gave him one last kiss while they were still hidden from peaking eyes, “I’ll see you out there.”

The rest of the day went by quickly. Both Bret and Shawn were so busy with media interviews and pre-show prep that by the time Bret was warming up, the show had already started.

Owen and Jim had their own tag match to worry about and Davey was technically ‘barred from ringside’ which of course meant he’d interrupt the match at the worst possible moment, hopefully causing the LOD their tag titles. Bret didn't know the outcome and he didn't want to, he still liked to suspend his disbelief and enjoy wrestling for what it was.

He was backstage alone, watching the monitor and waiting for his time to hit gorilla. He went over the match in his head while he waited, the belt laid across his lap. The bright gold contrast with the black leather always caught his eye.

Bret was proud of his time as champion, he was a fighting champion, someone who earned his spot. The feeling was bittersweet; he would miss being at the top but his time was up. That's how this company worked. Shawn deserved it more than anyone Bret could think of, besides maybe his little brother, but that was a fight he wouldn't dare get in the middle of.

The belt would look so good in Shawn’s hands, Bret couldn't wait to see the smile on his face when he held it up for the first time. He ran his fingers across the gold plate, admiring its shine. There would be other chances for him to get the belt back, it was a competition, and that part never stopped. It took Bret too much time to realize he could be happy either way.

After a while, Bret eventually got restless and left the locker room. He’d be early to gorilla but that way he’d get to see Owen and the guys after their match.

There were still plenty of monitors for Bret to watch the match. Owen, as always, was a spitfire in the ring. He was fast and athletic as hell; a wonder to watch. It wasn't long before Davey interfered and Owen got the pin.

Bret was ecstatic, for a brief moment in time the Hart Foundation would be covered in championships. However short that time was going to last didn't matter; the moment Owen, Jim, and Davey appeared they were all smiles and sweaty hugs.

“Proud of you, little brother,” Bret gave Owen a rough pat on the shoulder and ruffled his blonde hair like he was a kid again.

Owen was beaming, “You get out there and kick some ass, big brother.”

“Always do,” Bret winked and gave Jim and Davey their congratulations before they headed backstage.

It would be a few more minutes till Bret’s music hit. He needed to focus again. It was go-time; he ran over important parts of the match in his head while he stayed warm. Before long, the boss came over to wish him good luck with a tight nod and a look in his eye that said ‘you know what to do.’

Bret’s music hit the speakers and he took in the roar of the crowd. Taking one last deep breath, he slung the title over his shoulder, lowered his sunglasses, and walked out. Bret took it all in, the fans reaching out to touch him, the bright lights- he relished in the rewards of his hard work.

As he made his way down the aisle, he stopped to give a little girl his sunglasses, she was jumpy and giddy with excitement. That was always one of the best parts of his job. After that, Bret climbed into the ring and held the title up one last time.

The music dimmed along with the lights. Bret handed the belt to a staff member, mentally parting ways, and stood in the corner as he waited for Shawn’s music to play.

It could have been ten seconds or thirty minutes and Bret wouldn't have known the difference, but his heart rate began to spike the moment that iconic entrance began. He was expecting something extravagant like Shawn coming down from the rafters or sneaking up on him from behind, but the blonde made his appearance from the top of the ramp.

Shawn was all hips and confidence as he swaggered down the aisle, white tassels swinging every which way. God, he looked good. He always did, but it was Shawn’s confidence that dragged Bret in even further.

Bret kept his face as neutral as possible, he had to act like he was indifferent to Shawn, or like he was better than him. Which wouldn't have been hard to do a few months ago, but since everything had changed, all Bret wanted to do was admire his partner.

They finally made eye contact when Shawn stepped into the ring. It wasn’t easy keeping the smile off his face, but Bret managed, even as he secretly admired the way Shawn shimmied off his ring gear. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he could’ve sworn Shawn threw a wink or two in there.

As the music died down and the lights came up, the ref made sure they were both ready and soon the bell rang. Bret’s mind shifted; it was time to go to work.

They circled each other for a bit, building tension for the crowd before starting with the standard lockup.

“You look nervous Hitman,” Shawn teased.

“In your dreams, Michaels,” Bret replied as he used his momentum to sling Shawn into the ropes.

The blonde bounced back, aiming for a clothesline that Bret dodged last second. They played this cat-and-mouse game for a while; one of them running the ropes and the other evading. Things were going smoothly so far.

The playful banter also continued. Specifically, the first pinfall when Shawn practically had Bret’s knees over his shoulders. He swiftly kicked out on two.

“You should let me see you like that more often,” Shawn whispered in Bret’s ear, pulling him back to his feet.

“Maybe if you play nice,” Bret got out before being slammed into the turnbuckle.

The match was starting to heat up, the crowd was into it. Different chants could be heard throughout the arena, and it was time to start building to the bigger spots. It was Bret’s turn to counter.

Shawn ran at him full speed from the opposite side of the ring right into a spinebuster. Bret got the cover, but of course, Shawn kicked out.

“Usually, you let me hold you down,” Bret said as he caught his breath for a moment.

Chest heaving, Shawn turned on his side so his mouth was mostly covered from the crowd, “Usually, I get something out of it.”

Bret stood slow and grabbed Shawn by the hair, making it look like he was yanking the blonde up by the hair, “That’s not very nice.”

Shawn’s eyes were squeezed together as he feigned pain, “I thought you like when I talk back?”

“Only if I get something out of it,” Bret let go of Shawn’s hair and swung him into the ropes, throwing the blonde over his shoulder when he came back.

After a few elbow drops and more failed pin-falls, Shawn sent Bret over the top rope, crashing into the barricade. Fans reached to touch him and cheer him on, but Bret had to shake off the fog that overcame his mind. He hadn’t hit his head, but something had shifted.

He sat up slowly, favoring his right shoulder, and took in the sight of Shawn in the ring. He was on top of the world; the crowd cheering him on as he taunted, everything about him was a superstar. As he watched Shawn sprint from the other side of the ring and barrel towards him from over the top rope, Bret realized something.

He was in love.

Shawn’s weight hit him with a thud and the crowd lost it.

How ironic for Bret to realize he was in love while said individual was beating the shit out of him. It just made too much sense; their relationship hadn’t been conventional from the start. Why start now?

Loving Shawn was so simple yet entirely complicated. If the last few months had taught Bret anything, it was that life threw curveballs at you when you least expected it. Going from hating Shawn’s guts to not being able to breathe without him was something he had never expected, but it felt so right.

They were two opposite ends of the spectrum that balanced each other out, the final two puzzle pieces to fit it all together. It was never about the belt, it was about Bret letting go of control, and Shawn gave him that ability. To accept. Shawn had just realized it before him.

The match continued and Bret was more than happy to play along. Their in-ring styles complemented each other perfectly, and this could easily become one of Bret’s favorite matches of all time. Even if he was biased.

Bret rolled back into the ring after leaving Shawn on the ground from a brutal suplex. They were getting near the finale, but first Bret had to show off a little bit.

He waited for Shawn in the corner of the ring, making it look like he was exhausted to the crowd. In reality, the adrenaline could keep him going for much longer, but he’d save that energy for later.

Shawn finally stood and trudged his way into the ring, the crowd impatient for more action. Bret waited for his cue and threw Shawn to the ring floor. He looked to the crowd and called for the Sharpshooter.

After that, things got fuzzy again for Bret. The roaring of the crowd was coming in and out, and the only thing he could really feel was the weight of Shawn’s legs as he turned the blonde over and locked in the submission move.

The ref was practically bouncing back and forth between the two of them, seeing if Shawn would tap or if Bret would give. He could hear Shawn’s groans of agony through the fog, but he’d never remember how long he held the Sharpshooter for.

The next thing he knew, he was being rolled over into a pinfall and kicked out at the last second. Shawn had reversed his move. Bret faced the opposite direction and stood, preparing himself for what was coming next.

He could hear the stomps of Shawn’s boots on the ring and the crowd getting louder along with it. This was it. Bret turned and was met with Sweet Chin Music.

He landed on the ground with a thunderous noise and Shawn was quick to cover him.

“Thank you,” Shawn whispered.

One. Two. Three.

The bell rang and it was over. Shawn’s music hit and the crowd was on their feet.

Bret didn't say anything but gave Shawn’s hand a reassuring squeeze. He’d be able to say anything he wanted to soon enough.

They announced Shawn as the winner and new champion over the speakers and Bret knew that was his cue to head back up the ramp. He rolled out of the ring and slowly backed away. The look of Shawn celebrating was a beautiful picture; his boyhood dream came true. It had all been worth it.

It reminded Bret of the first time he held that belt in his hands, it was a feeling unlike any other, but it wasn't about him. This moment was about Shawn, and he’d give the man he loved that time. As he continued backing up the ramp, a few fans shouted their dismay, but it all blended together.

The last thing he saw before turning to head backstage was Shawn holding the belt up to the crowd and drinking in their approval.

Once backstage, he was greeted with handshakes and pats on the back from everyone; Owen, Davey, and Jim goaded about how technical the match had been. Owen was jumping with excitement, not yet coming down from his own match. Even Kevin, Scott, and Kid gave their approval.

Hunter approached him last, “Amazing match.”

Bret gestured toward the ramp entrance, “It was all him.”

“Maybe he brings out the best in you,” Hunter offered.

Bret didn't even have to think about it, “Maybe he does.”

He gave Hunter a pat on the shoulder and then headed further backstage for water and a towel. As he waited for Shawn, he caught his breath and savored a minute of alone time. His mind was starting to clear when he saw Shawn finally enter the back.

The blonde was immediately swarmed with people congratulating him and making him take pictures. Bret almost laughed to himself, he could tell Shawn wanted to get away but such was the life of a champion. The blonde was at least excited to see his friends, including Bret’s half.

A moment later, their eyes met, and Shawn’s smile grew wide. He ran towards Bret, the title falling from his shoulder halfway, and jumped into his arms causing them to spin around. Bret held on tight, squeezing Shawn in his arms.

“Congrats, baby,” Bret’s voice was muffled by Shawn’s shoulder.

“Bret, it was incredible,” Shawn practically squealed before Bret set him down.

Shawn pulled him into a kiss and if Bret was sure before, he was positive now. There was no doubt in his mind that Shawn was meant to be his and vice versa; in the most insane way, they fit together.

“Shawn,” Bret pulled back for a moment, trying to find his words.

All this time, the fighting, the drama- it was all to get here. It was all so Bret could finally dig down into the depths of his soul to figure out how to love someone and let someone love him in return. Bret squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, leaning his forehead against Shawn’s. The words were there, he just had to say them. Three words that he hoped Shawn already knew. It took everything in him, but he’d die trying before he gave up.

Bret pulled back to look Shawn in the eyes, those sparkling blue eyes that were so full of life, “I love you.”

Before Shawn could respond Bret had the sudden will to continue, “I love you. I love your laugh, I love your smile, I love your friends, the way your nose crinkles when you try to read something from far away but you refuse to get glasses. I love how you snore and the way you-”

Shawn shut him up with a kiss; one that said everything that needed to be said between them. They were by no means perfect, but Bret was looking forward to every step of the way with the man he loved.

Bret moved to grab Shawn’s belt from the ground, “Less than ten minutes as the champion and you're already losing this thing.”

“That’s what I have you for, right?” Shawn took the title and threw it over his shoulder, “To remember my stuff and carry my bags?”

Bret huffed a laugh at the blonde’s teasing and took Shawn’s hand in his own, “Take me home, champ.”

***

*EPILOGUE*

*A few months later*

Bret hated his birthday. All it did was remind him that he was one year older and that his body hurt more and more every day, but Shawn insisted on celebrating. The last thing he wanted was a big party, which had been Shawn’s initial plan, so they settled on inviting Bret’s family over for dinner.

In the last few months, Shawn had been staying with Bret in Calgary whenever they had time off work, but they hadn’t yet discussed the idea of moving in together. That was still a little ways down the road, and they were both content with where their relationship stood for the moment. It was nice to be excited about time off instead of just anticipating getting back on the road.

The dinner was nice, Bret hadn't wanted anything fancy so they settled on Italian and Shawn turned out to be quite the chef. Owen and his family were there along with a bunch of their other siblings and their families. Shawn was a natural with all of Bret’s nieces and nephews, which in turn earned him a side-eye and a smile from one of his sisters.

“Absolutely not,” Bret nearly choked.

They hadn’t even been together for six months let alone had the thought of children. That was something they could discuss in ten years, maybe five if they were feeling spry. Bret knew she was doing it to tease him but that was something his sister couldn't torture out of him right now.

Shawn had to practically beg Bret to let him get a cake, but eventually, he agreed. If anything it was for the kids to eat, at least that's what Bret told himself until Shawn cut him a giant piece after everyone embarrassed him with that stupid ‘Happy Birthday’ song.

“It’s your birthday, you don't have to be so strict about your diet,” Shawn gave him a peck on the cheek and set the plate in front of him.

Bret didn't mean to be so grumpy, but sometimes that was just his disposition and he was very fortunate to have so many people who loved him despite it.

“Thanks, babe,” He gave Shawn a smile.

The cake was amazing and Bret knew he might have overindulged when he ended up on the couch with a hand on his stomach because of how full he was. He looked at Shawn in the kitchen and waved him over.

“One sec!” Shawn set down whatever he was doing and gestured for Owen to follow him.

Bret watched his brother and boyfriend leave out the front door with a confused look on his face. Whatever they were up to was obviously not good, but Bret didn't have the energy to bother getting up.

One second turned into thirty minutes and now Bret was starting to get a little concerned. Everyone else seemed fine, though. So there wasn't much that he could do.

Eventually, Owen burst through the door with a grin on his face, “We’re back!”

“Where did you guys go?” Bret furrowed his brow.

“Nun ya,” Owen replied and jumped over the edge of the couch to take a seat like the big kid he was.

Shawn eventually appeared with a medium-sized gift box in his arms; it was wrapped in blue wrapping paper with a giant purple bow on top. Bret should have known what to expect when he told Shawn he didn't want any gifts.

“Everything else is in Owen’s car, but this is the most important one,” Shawn said giddily as he sat next to Bret.

“What do you mean everything else?” Bret pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’ll see,” Shawn grinned and set the box on Bret’s lap, “Don’t shake it, it’s fragile.”

Bret looked around the room as his family waited for him to open up the box; the kids were even more eager to see what was inside.

Before he could even notice the holes on the top, the box moved. It took a moment for Bret to register what that meant.

“Shawn,” Bret said deadpan, giving the blonde a look of disbelief.

“Open it,” Shawn nudged him with an elbow.

“Shawn, if there's a live animal in he-”

Bret was interrupted by the tiniest squeak he had ever heard in his life. He sighed and took the lid off the box.

So much for his hard exterior, because the moment Bret laid eyes on the tiny black and white kitten in the box, he melted.

“I don't- How did-” Bret tried but quickly shut himself up and reached into the box to pick up the kitten.

There was a little makeshift purple collar on the kitten’s neck that was decorated with flowers and Bret couldn't help but recognize them.

“Isn’t she perfect?” Shawn leaned his head on Bret’s shoulder and gave the kitten a scratch, “She’s been staying at Owen’s since I picked her out. We had to run back to his place to go grab her.”

Bret was still at a loss for words. The kitten was already playing with his fingers like she owned the place. Which she absolutely already did.

“All the supplies are in the car,” Shawn added, “I think she likes you, already.”

The kitten let out another tiny meow and rubbed her face against Bret’s hand. His hand that dwarfed this tiny creature.

“We’ll work on your roar later,” Bret smiled and scratched her chin, “Does she have a name?”

The blonde looked up at Bret and then back to the kitten, “Not yet, but I think I have a good idea.”

Bret raised a brow, “Oh?”

Shawn snuggled into Bret’s side and let out a very content sigh, “I was thinking Orchid.”

[celabi]

What if Reader and Scara announce their engagement to Ei?

🍄

Scaramouche probably wanted to keep the engagement a secret from his mother. he’s thought about just packing a suitcase, taking your hand and running away together, far from all your friends and family, and people who would just get in the way. he’s selfish and greedy, and wants nothing more then to have you all to himself. but he knows you have a life, and want to be around other people who aren’t just him, so he stays put.

he ponders for a while on how he’ll tell her the news, that he’s not a nerdy, loner looser anymore and that he’s finally put a ring on your finger, just because she can be a little over the top with new things relating to her son. she gets way too excited and will embarrass him by telling all her girl friends whenever he makes an accomplishment. but he knows it’s all in good spirits, and that’s shes just doing what mothers do.

you’ve both most likely come back from a date, it’s late, and scara is getting a little sleepy from all the walking he did, where you find Ei still awake in the kitchen. she greets you with a wave and beckons you both to sit down at the table while she makes you a hot coco. your boyfriend, secretly fiancé, of course slips in the chair next to you and leans his head on your shoulder, his fingers trailing up and down your thigh from under the table, as he murmurs on about how lucky he is to have you and all that.

his mother watches from behind the counter with a kind smile, as you coo and play with his hair softly. she thinks you both look so adorable, and match together well. how she couldn’t imagine anyone other then you to steal the heart from her son. Ei giggles softly, and walks over with the mugs in her hands. “You look like a married couple.”

scara, in a little daze, takes the mug and brings it too his lips, nodding slightly. “Yeah… we will be soon.” he’s just so tired he doesn’t know what he’s saying. he feels you shift in your seat, and turns to face you, where you’re already looking back at him with raised eyebrows and a small grin. he blinks, and then slowly turns to his mom, who’s eyes and mouth are both wide open. he mirrors her, and places down his drink, clearing his throat. “Uh— I mean, in the fut—”

“You’re engaged?” she whispers, and brings a hand up to cover her face. he can already hear it, small whimpers falling from her lips, and he sighs. she’s crying, pools of tears streaming down her cheeks as she holds onto the edge of the table for support. Old age is catching up to her, and her little heart can’t take it. sniffling, she lifts her head up to meet your eyes, where you smile and raise your hand, where a ring sits snug around your finger. she bawls, and as much as she is a pain in his ass, scara can’t find it in his heart to just sit there and watch.

he stands up, and awkwardly wraps an arm around her shoulders. she’s quick to react, and pulls him into a hug, her body racking of sobs as she cries into his shoulder. she hardly ever gets to touch her son, with him being so closed off and territorial, so having him in her arms really feeds into her emotions. “Oh dear, my sweet boy… I’m— I’m so happy for you!” she cries, hands balling into fists around his shirt. “You’ve come so far… I can’t believe it! I’m so— so…” scara looks to you for help, but you only giggle and wave him off.

he coughs, and softly pushes her away. her cheeks are flushes and her eyes are red and puffy, but she still smiles at him so lovingly. she reaches for his cheek and holds it in her palm, sobs slowly melting into whimpers, which turn to sniffles, until she’s able to steady her breathing without breaking down again. “too be honest… i never thought you would get a girlfriend, let alone a wife… so hearing this is such perfect news! knowing my boy has found someone to love him just the way he is…” Ei looks to you and smiles, while scara stands there and thinks. ‘Just the way he is…? What does that mean?’

she wipes her eyes for any remaining tears, and clears her throat. “So then… I suppose grandkids won’t just be a pipe dream?”