#contrast of brightness within a shot

[grugruel]

hi, can you please write more of Arthur morgan😭I love your writing so much!🫶

Thank you!🫶 It makes me so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing, it really spurred on my motivation!😌 Still, I've been trying to write this for weeks, but ended up rewriting and starting over. Now im finally done, hope you enjoy this too!🥹

You've Kissed Me For Less

Pairings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Arthur wants to teach you hunting. But as your effort proves fruitless and the weather fouls, Arthur needs to keep you warm in the cold hours of the night.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: forced proximity ish, pinv sex, sideways sex, cream-pie, petnames (sweetheart, girl, honey, darlin'), fingering, slight handjob, tension, flirting.

AN: The arrow misses. Not proofread!

Knock, draw . . . Hold . . . Aim, and . . .

"That's right . . . Atta girl."

Crack.

The furry beast jerked in surprise. Looking up, it's ears twitched and turned, attempting to determine the source of the sound. It's dark eyes alert and contrasting, standing out from the light snowfall filling the air.

She stood on unsteady feet, the broken twig beneath her boot throwing her off balance. "You're thinkin' to much, girl," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her neck, making her hair stand on end. "Release."

Siddled up to a tree, they were out of sight from their prey. A large pair of hands guided her arms, and a strong chest pressed firmly against her back. In the cold landscape they found themselves in, the reassurance from the heat of his body was duely welcomed.

She inhaled, holding it for steady aim. But restless and unfocused, she moved her weight from on foot to another–the snow crunched beneath her heel.

Her breath caught in her throat as the beast whipped in her direction, and their eyes met.

Release–the arrow pierced the air.

The gentle beast grunted and wheezed, fleeing as it bounced out of sight.

And where it had stood, her arrow struck bark. The shaft now coated in snow as the force of the blow shook the spruce and rid its branches of the bright, clamoring weight.

"Well," he began, attempting to hide the amusement from his tone. "It ain't easy . . . It's only your first."

She chuckled, her bow arm slumping to her side. "We've been at it all day, Arthur. Thats the fourth shot I've missed."

"Plenty of time to work on your trackin'."

She grunted, throwing her head back in frustration.

He'd wanted her to learn hunting so she could fend for herself if the need ever arose. But as long a she had him, it wouldn't. And if truth be told, she preffered it that way. Secretly sighing in relief each time the arrow missed it's target.

That day, they'd awoken with the sun, and been after the same deer all day. Poor bastard. He should really count his blessings, had Arthur been the one holding that bow they'd been heading back to camp within the first hour or so.

But the weather hadn't been a hassel. Soft clouds had sprinkled light snow all morning, only just coming to an end. But the air was clear and hellishly cold, enough so for the humidity in the air to freeze and glimmer as the mid-day sun shone upon them.

"Were in headwind." She shrugged. "And the poor thing darted off into the woods, we could continue tracking it from there," She said, and pointed toward the otherside of the lake. Surface frozen and snowed over, footing wouldn't be a problem.

"That so?"

"Well, yes-- what? What you grinning for?"

"Poor creature," he quoted, jerking his chin to the side. "You've been missin' on purpose."

She scoffed. "You think too highly of me, Arthur. I would gladly miss if I'd had the aim for it. But as it stands, I'm a poor shot with a bleeding heart."

"Nah, I think of you just right, sweetheart. But we needa eat." He pointed toward the treeline. "And the food just ran off."

She sighed heavily. He was right, but that didn't mean she'd be happy about it. "Well, let's go then. But I cant promise we'll be eating deer tonight ."

No," he began, a smirk spreading scross his lips. "But I can." He took the bow from her hand and the quiver from her back.

Alright, there were no more blessings to be counted.

"Your faith in me is lackluster, Arthur."

He scoffed and stepped onto the ice, nodding for her to follow. "First I think to highly of ya, 'n now its lackluster . . . Would you rather have me wither away . . . Starve to death?"

The ice sang beneath their feet as she thought about it, and her eyes automatically turned to his broad shoulders and thick arms. Her mind drifting to that hard chest and strong hands. "No . . . That'd be a damn shame," she said. "But I do have the basics down, would I really have to I could probably find myself some game."

Arthur chuckled, then stopped. "Tell you what . . . We passed a cabin, head back there and set up shelter," he said and looked toward the sky, the sun passing it's peak. "We're too far out, and probably won't be makin' it back to camp before dark. And I'll track down dinner."

"Really?"

Arthur kneeled down by the shore, examining the tracks. "Nah, don't want you to kill unnecessarily."

She was awed. That man possessed such kindness but was so careful with showing it, and she couldn't imagine why.

Her chest warmed and cheeks blushed, she hoped the cold could be played of as an excuse. "Thank you, Arthur. Truly," she smiled at him. But she wanted to convey her gratitude properly, for it was no small favour he did her.

"No need to thank me, honey. I understand."

But that wasnt enough, so- without thinking, she removed her glove and leaned down. Her hand found his jaw, and her lips his cheek. Gently, she pinched the sharp edge with the pads of her fingertips. And gently, she pecked his face with soft lips.

It was supposed to be a friendly gesture, but as her warm fingers met his cold skin and the stubble along the sharp edge tickled her lips–a trickle of longing brushed her insides.

She'd been sweet on him for a while, which woman wouldn't be? He could be soft and masculine, tough and sweet. He was a manly man, broad shouldered and handsome. He helped her lift heavy things, not because he assumed she couldnt do it, but because he wished to be of help.

She could not think of one thing she yearned for more.

So this touch, it must've been her subconscious. How many times she'd thought of brushing his cheek in gratitude, she could not remember. This time was no different.

As the sun shone on his face, and he'd done her this kindness, her mind must've gotten tired of all impulses stopped by her conscience and simply moved for her.

Now there they were, neither knowing what to do next.

Their eyes were locked on eachother, and Arthur's lips were parted as if he wished to say something but couldn't quite.

"I, I'll just-- I'm heading back, then. To that cabkn-" she began to gesture in the general direction, her mind keeping her tongue busy by rambling. "What am I saying, you can track me," she joked, awkwardly laughing, flustered by her own impromptu affection.

"I can . . . I'll find ya'." Was all he said, still kneeling and looking up at her.

Good, good good good. Before she knew it, she'd already turned around and began making her way back. Embaressment prickled her face, a thousand small needle points taunting her, and Arthur's reaction did nothing to ease her mind. She'd been a fool.

-

Night was closing in and the wind was picking up. Heavy snow began to fall, but thankfully, the cabin was abandoned and the roof was intact, protecting them from the weather, but not the cold. She managed to get a fire going in the old hearth, but it helped very little with warmth when the walls were ramshackle, allowing drafts and especially rough wind draw through.

Shivering down to her bone marrow, the girl hugged herself tightly. "Fuck me," she swore beneath her breath. "Ridiculous." The weather had changed within an hour, completley flipping the serene day into a hellish night. "Could think were in the damned arctics."

She'd endured 3 hours by her lonesome, thankfully forging for firewood before the storm set in.

But she couldn't help but worry for Arthur. He was a rugged man, but even he had limits. She kept thinking It'd all be alright once he got back there, to her side. But what could one man to about the weather?

With the cold came the hunger, and the regret not long thereafter. "Damn conscience," she muttered, her stumache growling.

She could barely see the trees surrounding the cabin, the snow doing more to sabotage her sight than the darkness. It was falling so thickly she could barely see between the flakes.

"Sorry for bein' late," announced a voice.

Startled, she turned toward it–the door opening had sounded like another howl from the wind. Trough the heavy curtain of snow, Arthur emerged, flakes swirling around him as he entered the cabin and the glow of the fire embraced him. "Damn tracks got muddled . . . blown over," he said, the overflow of irritation noticeable in his demeanor and tone. He looked weathered, clothes roughed up from the storm, hat collecting a nice layer of snow, cheeks and nose rosy. "Deer would've been too heavy in this shit," he gestured toward the snow and slammed the door shut behind him. "Got us some rabbits instead."

Wearing an incredulous expression, she had to laugh. She'd been worried about him being alone in this shit storm, fearing he might've frozen to death. But no, he brought rabbits, that's all.

"What's so funny," he asked, preparing the animals before placing them above the fire and taking a seat next to her.

She glanced at him. "That's all you got to say? You got some rabbits?"

"I already apologised to ya."

She scoffed, amazed by his resilience.

The annoyance began to melt from him, the heat thawing his mood. "What? I dont get a 'thank you' this time? You've kissed me for less."

She froze, narrowing her eyes on him. Those familiar needles pricking her skin again. "You didn't magically happen upon an extra blanket or so, did you?" She changed the topic, and as if to prove her point, a particularly violent shiver descended upon her.

Arthur shook his head, then removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. " 'Fraid not," he said, then handed her the cooked meat.

He wore another jacket beneath, but it was thin and unsufficient, in her opinion.

"Thank you," she whispered, and kissed his cheek once more. But there was no embaressment this time. Their eyes met, silently communicatingas mouths were to occupied with chewing. She suspected there'd been a lack of words even without the chewing. "I've kissed you for less," she agreed, then redirected her gaze into the fire.

-

They spent the next half hour in quiet as they ate, nothing but the howling wind and crackling fire to keep them company.

Eventually unrolling their bedrolls and attempting to sleep, a few short words for communication when needed. It proved difficult, however, for the night wore on and the temperature continued to drop.

She could hear her teeth clattering in her skull, even with Arthur's jacket on.

"You're still freezing."

"A-are you not?" She stuttered. The hearth was cramped with their bodies side by side. " 'M sorry if I w-woke you." She hated the idea of her body shivering so much it cost him his sleep.

"You'll get pneumonia, girl. We need to get you warm."

"H-how you figure t-that?"

"Well, I-- hell, let me warm you up."

She didn't stop to think before she spoke, proving a common theme. "Do it, Arthur p-please. Before my t-t-teeth shatter."

She heard a rustling behind her, and then she felt him slip into her bedroll. It was tight, but enough space for then to move around. "We needa get those off you," he murmured, voice gravelly.

She nodded profusely, feeling the familiar contours of his chest against her back. He removed both the jackets from her shoulders until there were nothing but the two thin fabrics of their shirts between their bodies.

She sighed, it felt like a radiator against her back. "F-Feels better already," she said, her dtutter subsiding and shivers calming.

"Good, you're alright, girl," he comforted, wrapping one arm around her waist as she propped her head on the other. He pulled her closer, leaving no space for the heat to escape.

Feeling his hand on her like this felt . . . Heavenly. As if his large hand was molded just to fit her curves. "I want more . . . Arthur. Warmer."

Without a word, he removed his shirt and got back into position. If freezing to death was all she had to do to achive this scenario, she would've done it earlier. Moving to do the same, she yearned for his heat to seep into her directly, skin to skin.

The body behind her stiffened, suddenly worried. "You don't have to, girl." He stopped her.

"I-I want to, Arthur. Im fine."

With her words of reassurance, he relaxed. His hands found hers, aiding her in the removal. She'd had no time to make it clear that there was no corset covering her since hunting didn't require one.

Arthur's breathing hitched at the revalation, prompting him to clear his throat. And his hands were simply hovering, uncertain where they belonged, where they were allowed.

"First time seeing a woman without a corset, Arthur?" She teased, uncertain where this sudden confidence came from, if it simply wasthe bizarre nature of the situation, or that it was only her bare back he could see.

He chuckled. "No, ma'am. 'S just . . . I dont wanna take any liberties."

"I don't mind, Arthur," she whispered. There's no liberties she wouldn't allow him to take, she thought.

Slowly, the hesitance melted away from him, and his fingers found her ribs. She sighed, content with their feeling. They burned, but pleasantly so. The reaction from her core was the only thing growing unbareable. Gaining confidence, his hand slid lower, following the length of her ribs. Fingers stopping just beneath the hill of her breast, hus thumb stroking small circles over her skin.

She hummed appreciatively, forgetting herself.

"Feelin' good?"

"Mmmh, warmer." She was finally relaxed enough to feel the low heat radiating from the fire, but with the numbness gone, the wind grew more noticeable. At times, a strong gust of wind would seep through the walls and graze her skin. Sending new shivers and goosebumps rippling across her body.

The retaliate and keep her heat up, she nudged herself closer to Arthur, tucking her hips and rear into his crotch. This gained her a low groan, and his fingertips sinking into the skin of her ribs like gentle claws.

"Better lay still now, girl," he warned, breathing onto her shoulder.

"Why's that?" She asked, but just as the words left her lips, she felt something slightly harden against her thigh. "Oh . . ." She gasped. Feeling it through both fabrics of their pants impressed her, salivated her.

" 'M sorry, sweetheart, 'm sorry." His thumb brushed back and forth, suddenly grazing the underside of her breast. She felt a twitch below the hips.

"Sorry, s-- I dont mean to," he breathed hard, leaning his forehead against her shoulder, attempting to focus.

"You can touch, Arthur."

"Now, honey . . . "

"I want you to," she assured him, knowing he might question the circumstances.

He shook his head hesitantly. "Dont wanna go takin' advantage of ya'."

You couldn't ever." She grabbed the hand that rested beneath her breast and guided it atop her, nipple already hard from anything and everything he does. "I want you to touch me."

He relented, andsqueezed her breast, releasing a grunt simultaneously. His lips found her neck, gently placing kisses on her skin.

She pushed back against him, grinding down on his crotch. "I want more than touching, Arthur . . ."

"I don't deserve you," he groaned, hand sliding over her chest to wrap his arm around her torso, bost breasts pressing firmly against his forearm.

The arm her head rested on reached down, brushing down her abdomen and beneath her pants. She gasped as his fingers found her clit. "All of you . . . Please." Her hand reach behind her, working to unbutton his pants as she turned her head over her shoulder, and their lips found eachother.

As the last button came undone and his length was free, her hands wrapped around it, gently stroking him and reveling in the pleased moans he breathed into her mouth.

"Hold on, hold on-" he stopped her. "I'll--" he swallowed, lips stalling against her own. "We only get one chance . . . tonight." He tried to clarify. " 'N I want ya' the right way." His hand momentarily left her chest to brush his fingers over the hand that held his member.

"I want that too," she whispered.

With her go-ahead, he pushed her pants below her ass and lined himself up with her entrance, her ass neatly tucked against his crotch, fitting together like piezes of a puzzle, perfectly matching. "Atta girl," he praised and pushed inside her.

They moaned simultaneously, lips reattaching. His hand were quickly back to work, breasts and clit stimulated by his expert hands all the while he thrusted in an out of her. "Feel so good."

She couldn't help but smile, panting between kisses as her body burned for him, every singel nerve flooding with electrical currents. "Harder, Arthur. I beg you. Im . . . G-Getting close. "

Arthur slowed his pace, arm leaving her clit to hold her torso, exchanging arms so he could hook her leg onto his arm for better leverage, reaching deep, hitting her core.

She cried out.

"C'mon, darlin'." He bit her lip. "Im right here."

"Mm, mhmm," she whimpered, the pressure in her core building, ready to topple over any second. Her vision grew blurry, chest heaving and breathing hard. And then- she came. Pleasure rolled over her, Arthur continuing to thrust into her as he prolonged her orgasm. "Breathe girl, you're alright," he comforted her. Fingers playing with her nipple. "Doin' so good."

She shook, she shivered, but the cold was no longer the reason, Arthur was. "Where-- where can I-"

"Anywhere," she moaned, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Too good to me, youre too good to me," he repeated. "Good girl." He grunted, finally toppling over himself, spilling his seed inside her. With a few final ruts, they collpased in eachothers embrace, sweat coating their skin.

"Is it hot in here or . . . ?"

Arthur chuckled and kissed her shoulder. "You're welcome, sweetheart." He wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Pretty girl."

"Thank you, Arthur," she said, and kissed his cheek.

"I get both now? A 'thank you' and a kiss? What's gotten into you?"

"Well," she held back a giggle. "You did."

"Funny," he said, a grinn on his lips, foolishly proud.

[little-diable]

The Lord of Gifts (smut)

@theanythingbuthuman has to endure my rambling about Annatar 24/7, so I needed to write something with him and I couldn’t wait for Kinktober to pass. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader seeks out Annatar’s company late at night as she fears that Sauron is close, robbing her of her sleep. Perhaps the lord of gifts can distract her for some moments.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), piv, semi public, lies because duh

Pairing: Annatar/Sauron x fem!reader (1.8k words)

“Please, (y/n), you don’t need to keep away.” His soft voice cozied her along, words dripping from his lips like the finest honey harvested in Eregion. Carefully, she stepped closer, eyes set on his handsome features, fully exposed due to the way he had made a bow out of his bright hair strands.

“Forgive me for disturbing you so late at night.” (Y/n) had to avert her gaze, fumbling with her fingers as she came to a halt close to Lord Annatar. She felt him shift closer, cold hand finding her warm chin to tilt her head up towards him. Heat buzzed through her at the touch, making the spot he touched tingle with excitement.

For the past days, she had found herself longing for some alone time with the being, the lord of gifts as he had been introduced by Master Celebrimbor. Something about him seemed to pull (y/n) in, something having a dark touch to it she couldn’t understand but feel fascinated about nevertheless.

“This is nothing to apologise for, I am always looking forward to your presence, (y/n).” The smile tugging on his lips had an addicting effect on her, unable to stop her grin from widening as he slowly let go of her - reluctantly almost. She had to stop herself from chasing the touch, forcing her feet to stay rooted to the ground while her eyes followed his frame.

Annatar sank down in one of the chairs, body hugged by his dark clothes, perfectly matching the fair contrast of his features and hair. He was truly beautiful, a distracting appearance hiding whatever he wanted to keep from curious eyes.

“What is it that keeps you up so late at night, (y/n)?” She watched him pour some wine before pointing towards the chair next to his, waiting for her to come sit. (Y/n)’s legs trembled as she walked closer, fingers interlocked in front of her before she sank down on the comfortable wooden chair.

“There is something lingering in the air, my lord. Something dark, something,” her breath hitched in her chest, wide eyes focusing on the dancing flames warming the workshop. Annatar had his eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted as he waited for her to keep on speaking. “Something dangerous, it is as if He has found me, speaking to me late at night to drive me towards my end. I feel as if I’m going insane.”

“Trust me, love, there is nothing you need to fear, not as long as I am with you. He can’t reach you within my grasp, that much I can promise.” She dared to look at him again, trying to decipher the emotions tugging on his features. His slender fingers found her trembling knee, placed on top of the fine fabric of her dress to keep close. Her heart skipped a beat at the unexpected touch, a touch calling for her to hold onto him, allowing her fingers to slowly find his.

“Have you ever met him?” The question rolled off her tongue without (y/n) being able to stop the words from hallowing through the empty workshop. His expression turned into something rather grim, as if he was plagued by thoughts and memories he had buried a long time ago. (Y/n) could see his jaw muscles clench and for a moment it seemed as if he was a completely different being, shape shifting into somebody else for just a fraction of a second.

“Let us not dim this night with memories dark and gruesome, (y/n). Let us cherish the quietness we have both been aching for.” The soft smile he shot her made (y/n) slightly relax in the chair. She could only nod her head, taking another sip of the wine as Annatar mimicked her movements.

“How do you pass your time when you’re not spending your time with Master Celebrimbor? Is your husband keeping you company?” A soft chuckle clawed through (y/n) at his question, followed by the shake of her head.

“If I were married I would not seek out your company this late at night, my lord.” Heat crawled up her spine, fuelled by the anticipation the smirk now widening on his lips made simmer deep inside of her. (Y/n) had to avert her gaze once again, wondering where she had found the confidence to speak words so teasing to a being this powerful.

Annatar rose to his feet, hand stretched out for (y/n) to take. A soft gasp left her as he pulled her against his chest, hand finding its way back to her chin, “Forgive my foolishness, but I couldn’t dare risk pushing you into a tangled web of misfortunes, (y/n).”

She got no time to overthink his words, pulled closer to let his lips ghost over hers. Her fingers found the fabrics covering his chest, fisting them in her trembling hands as he kissed her properly. Everything had stopped moving, time had lost its meaning, even the clouds no longer moved across the sky as Annatar kissed her breathless - at least that’s what it felt like to (y/n) and her racing mind.

Without breaking the kiss, (y/n) felt herself being pushed backwards, letting her smaller back press against the edge of a table. She was pushed onto the table, legs patted for the lord of gifts to rest between her thighs as he hungrily kissed her. Deep down, (y/n) found herself convinced that this was nothing but a dream, a play of her tired mind to pass its time, but the way his hands roughly grabbed her waist felt too real to be a mere dream, pulling her closer against him.

“I fear I don’t have the strength to hold back any longer, (y/n). The days in your closeness have been torturous as I was unable to touch you. Tell me, do you feel the same bond slumbering inside your chest?” The words were sweeter than any fruits she had ever eaten, any wine only the High King was fortunate enough to drink. Heat clung to every part of her body, forcing words to roll off her tongue while Annatar kissed his way down her throat.

“I do, my lord. I’m yours, I have been since the moment our paths were destined to cross.” It was all he needed to hear before he pushed her back down on the table. (Y/n) watched him push the fabric of her dress up to her waist, dipping his head down to kiss the insides of her thighs before his warm breath fanned over her heat.

“The night is short, our solitude will be disturbed, but soon we will find enough time to get lost in our longings, that much I can promise, love.” Her words got stuck in her throat the second his skilled tongue brushed over her folds, moaning at her taste. Gasps rolled off her tongue at the feeling of his fingers circling her pulsing bundle, touching her just like she had touched herself to the thought of him hours ago. He was eager, eating her out with an unfamiliar kind of urgency to push her towards the edge within a handful of seconds.

“Stars, this feels so good.” It wasn’t much she managed to speak, not many words that made it past her teeth, and yet they seemed to be enough to draw a chuckle out of the lord. His piercing eyes flickered up to meet hers, intently staring at (y/n) while he kept lapping at her folds, high on her taste.

Her hands found his bright hair, tugging on the roots to keep herself somewhat grounded. It felt as if she had lost all strength to guide her body, letting her back arch off the table the moment her thighs began to tremble, feeling her orgasm climb up her body. But seconds before she could fall off the edge with a call of his name, he parted from her.

“Let us become one. Will you allow us to find comfort with our bodies united, (y/n)?” His voice dripped with something raspy, something dark that made goosebumps appear on her limbs. The conscious part of her brain could tell that there was more to his words than she managed to pick up on, something the needy part of her couldn’t care about at that very moment.

“Take me, I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.” Annatar dipped his head down to kiss her, letting their tongues fight for victory while he freed his cock. He aligned himself with her heat, and with their eyes holding contact again, he pushed into her. Another gasp rumbled through (y/n), robbing her of the last air lingering in her lungs as she desperately tried to adjust to his size.

“Breathe, love. Let yourself fall.” He began to move, slow at first, building a steady rhythm. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, keeping him close to feel as much of him as possible. Their lips found one another every few seconds, sharing kisses that matched the strength of his faster growing thrusts.

Moans clawed through the both of them, sounds that would forever ring in their minds as they thought back to this very moment. Annatar held onto her with a strong grip, spurred on by the feeling of her walls fluttering around him with every perfectly calculated thrust, pushing her further and further towards the edge once again.

She was sure that he was leaving bruises on her body, marking her for days to come - and yet (y/n) could only feel excitement at the thought of being marked by the lord of gifts. Her fingernails clawed at his skin, holding onto Annatar as her eyes fluttered close, tasting her close release on the tip of her tongue.

“Let go, let me hear the way you call out my name as lust drives you on.” Her mouth instantly followed his command, choking on Annatar’s name. (Y/n)’s orgasm clashed through her, buzzing through her veins while he kept snapping his hips against hers, following her down the edge seconds later. Another raspy moan left the lord, making a smile tug on her slightly swollen lips as she watched him come undone.

“I will have you until darkness rises again, until time loses all its meaning. Eternity will feel short in comparison to what our path ahead will look like, (y/n).”

[myloveismineallmine]

talking about james somerton's dogshit color grading

okay, i see people talking about how poorly james somerton's videos are lit and at first i was like "how does this dumbass not understand three point lighting, its like something you learn about within the first month of film school" but then someone on twitter pointed out he probably just didn't know how to properly grade footage and i was like ooooh my god how did i not realize?

so when you first shoot something, it will probably look fine on your camera, but when you import it to your computer it might look like dogshit on your monitor, like in the image on the left. this has to do with whether you shoot it in LOG or RAW. basically RAW= huge file size but no change in saturation/exposure/white balance, ect. LOG= smaller file size but really ugly, little saturation and contrast, etc.

when you take this footage into your color grading software, you have to put a LUT (look-up-table) matching the camera you shot on onto the LOG footage to restore it so it looks like the image on the right. After that, you can start grading (fixing the exposure, adding colors to the highlights or shadows, there's a million different things you can do when you color grade.)

but whoever edited these (I'm assuming it's James, who we can always count on to be extremely lazy in his "creative" endeavors) just skipped that crucial step and went straight into color grading the LOG footage. Which is a huge no-no.

that is the reason why shots like these look so weirdly lit. conversion to LOG literally drains the contrast and saturation from the footage. which is why it is STEP ONE to correct it in post. but this dude probably just went straight into applying filters and colors and just thought upping the exposure or brightness would fix the footage.

obviously i don't have access to these files personally, so i can't say this with 100% certainty, but it would explain why the footage looks so damn weird. in my personal opinion it's not a lighting mistake necessarily (though the choices of colored gels he uses for his lights are very questionable.)

[ms-snape]

Imagine.. reader is Sirius sister and she is in secret relationship with Severus (she is teacher in Hogwarts too). In Grimmauld place at order meeting Severus and Sirius are arguing again. She can’t take it anymore and starts screaming there on both of them and accidentally came out with her and Severus little secret. And everyone are like whaaat ? Dumbledore is like: I knew it all along.

Title: Secret Forbidden Love

Résumé : Severus Snape entretient une relation secrète avec la sœur de l'intimidateur de son école, que se passe-t-il lorsqu'il le découvre ?

Attention : angoisse, mais fin heureuse

nombre de mots : 2000+

liste maîtresse

---

The flickering candlelight danced on the stone walls of Severus Snape's private chambers, casting long shadows that intertwined like the tangled emotions within the room. YN Black, professor of herbology and Sirius Black's sister stood, by the small window, her silhouette framed against the night sky, her heart racing as she felt Severus’s presence behind her. The warmth of his breath brushed her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

“Are you sure this is wise?” he murmured, his voice low, laced with a hint of concern. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin.

“Wise? No,” she replied, turning to face him, her eyes bright with mischief. “But it feels right.” She stepped closer, the distance between them collapsing as she leaned into him. The world outside faded, leaving just the two of them, enveloped in the cocoon of secrecy that their love had woven amidst the chaos of the wizarding world.

Severus’s lips curled into a ghost of a smile, a rare sight that made YN’s heart swell. “You are a reckless woman,” he teased softly, but his voice betrayed the warmth he felt for her. She knew he would never admit it, but his heart was as entwined with hers as the roots of the mandrakes they tended to in Herbology class.

“Only for you,” she whispered, and then she closed the gap between them, tasting the bittersweet flavor of passion and danger on his lips. They melted into a kiss, a moment of stolen bliss that felt both electrifying and forbidden.

But as the summer sun began to rise, so did the reality that awaited them.

---

The stone walls of 12, Grimmauld Place echoed with the tension of the gathering Order members. Flickering candles cast dancing shadows across the room, illuminating the faces of those present, each marked by the weight of their shared burden. At the head of the table, Albus Dumbledore sat, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles, while Sirius Black paced restlessly nearby, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Snape hasn’t changed, Albus,” Sirius insisted, his voice rising, a stark contrast to the calm ambiance. “He’s still a Death Eater at heart. We can’t trust him!”

“Enough, Black,” Severus Snape retorted, his voice low and edged with disdain. He leaned back in his chair, dark robes pooling around him like shadows. “I have proven my loyalty time and again. Your inability to see beyond your own prejudice is your weakness.”

“Prejudice? You call it prejudice when I refuse to trust a man who would sell his own soul for a chance at power?” Sirius shot back, fists clenching at his sides. “You are a coward and always will be, Snivellus!”

The tension in the room thickened, and Yn, seated quietly at the far end, felt her heart race. As a professor of Herbology, she had spent years cultivating patience and understanding, but the childish bickering between her brother and Severus was grating on her last nerve.

“Enough!” Yn’s voice rang out, firm and clear. She rose from her seat, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall, catching the candlelight. “This is not the time or place for your petty squabbles. We have far more important matters to discuss.”

Sirius shot her a glare, eyes narrowing. “You’re on his side now? You don’t even know what he is capable of!”

“Actually, I do.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and the room fell silent, a collective breath held in anticipation.

“What do you mean by that?” Sirius asked, voice low and dangerous.

With a sudden rush of courage—or perhaps foolishness—Yn took a step closer to Severus, her heart in her throat. “Because Severus and I are…dating.” The admission hung in the air like a spell that had gone wrong, the shock palpable.

Gasps echoed around the room. But Dumbledore merely raised an eyebrow, as if he had expected this revelation. Sirius’s face twisted in disbelief, anger radiating off him in waves.

“You’re joking,” he breathed, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. “You cannot be serious, Yn. You’re dating him? That—”

“Is none of your business!” she snapped, feeling the heat of her brother’s gaze like a physical blow. “I’m not a child, Sirius. I can make my own choices.”

“This monster has hurt many people before, and you think he’s changed, what makes you think he won't hurt you just as well?” Sirius’s voice trembled with a mixture of fury and heartbreak. “I won’t allow it!”

“Allow it?” Yn’s voice cracked, her emotions spilling over. “Who do you think you are to dictate my life? To tell me who I can and cannot love?”

“Love? You call this love?” Sirius spat, his face pale with anger. “You’re putting yourself in danger. He’s playing you, Yn!”

“Enough!” Severus interjected, his voice colder than the winter winds. “This is between Yn and me. You will not speak to her as if she was a child.”

“The problem is you’re not just some charming suitor—” Sirius shot back, but Yn stepped in, her heart racing.

“He's right, I’m not a child, Sirius!” she yelled, tears brimming in her eyes. “I know you just wanna protect me, espicially after what happened to Regulus, but I can take care of myself!”

The mention of her lost brother struck a chord, and the room fell silent again, the weight of grief settling heavily upon them. Sirius’s eyes softened momentarily, but his anger flared back to life.

“You’re making a mistake! I won’t stand by and watch you ruin your life!”

“Ruin my life?” Yn’s voice cracked, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “You've spent most of your life in Azkaban because you chose revenge, you don’t know anything about me or what I want!”

With that, she turned on her heel, storming out of the room. Her footsteps echoed in the hall, a stark reminder of the conflict left unresolved.

Sirius stared after her, guilt gnawing at him. The last time he had seen his sister cry was when Regulus died, and the memory twisted in his chest like a knife. But pride held him back; he didn’t want to admit he was wrong.

“Leave her be, Sirius,” Dumbledore said softly, his voice filled with understanding. “She needs time.”

“Time? She’s with him!” Sirius snapped, gesturing toward Severus. “What if he hurts her? I won’t let that happen!”

Severus, who had remained silent through most of the confrontation, felt a flicker of something akin to guilt. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He hadn’t wanted to cause a rift between the siblings.

“I’ll speak to her,” he said, rising from his chair.

“Not without my permission,” Sirius warned, eyes fierce.

“Enough!” Dumbledore interjected, his voice commanding. “This is not a battlefield, gentlemen. We are fighting a war, and if you cannot set aside your differences for the sake of the mission, you will find yourselves at a greater loss.”

“And Sirius, you must know that we are often surprised by the paths others choose,” Dumbledore continue, his voice gentle but firm. “But it is not our place to judge the journey, only to trust that love—wherever it is found—brings with it the potential for great courage and even greater understanding.”

Sirius’s shoulders slumped, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. He turned away, staring out the window at the darkening sky.

Yn leaned against her door, her heart racing, tears streaming down her face. How had it come to this? She had hoped that her relationship with Severus would be a source of strength, not a point of contention. She felt trapped between loyalty to her brother and her love for Severus, a tangled web of emotions that left her feeling breathless.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts, and she wiped her eyes hastily. “Go away,” she called, her voice thick with sadness.

“Yn?” Severus’s voice was low, almost tentative. “May I come in?”

She hesitated but finally opened the door. Severus stood there, his dark eyes searching hers, concern etched on his features.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, stepping inside. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“It’s not your fault,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s just…Sirius doesn’t understand. He’s hurting and he's doesn't see it.”

“I know.” Severus’s voice was gentle, a contrast to the sharpness that had characterized their earlier confrontation. “But I can’t change who I am. I can’t change how I feels. All I can do is be here for you.”

The sincerity in his voice warmed her, and she took a shaky breath. “I don’t want to choose between you two,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But I feel like I have to.”

“You don’t,” he said firmly, crossing the room to stand before her. “You can be loyal to your brother and still love me. He’ll come around eventually.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” she whispered, looking up at him, searching for reassurance. “What if I lose him forever? I've already spent twelve years without him, Severus”

Severus reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then we will find a way to make it work. Together.”

His touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she leaned into him, the warmth of his body grounding her in the chaos of her thoughts.

Days passed, the tension palpable within Grimmauld Place. Sirius avoided her, and every time she caught a glimpse of him, guilt twisted in her stomach. She missed her brother, and the silence between them felt insurmountable.

One evening, as Yn prepared for bed, a soft knock broke through her thoughts. She opened the door to find Sirius standing there, his expression a mix of determination and regret.

“Can I come in?” he asked, voice softer than she’d ever heard.

“Of course,” she replied, stepping aside.

Sirius entered, shifting awkwardly in the small space, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I’ve been a right git,” he began, his voice low. “And I’m sorry. I just…” He hesitated, searching for the words. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. Not again.”

Tears pricked her eyes, and she nodded, unable to speak.

“I know I can’t dictate your life,” he continued, his voice gaining strength. “But I’m your brother, and I care. I just—” He paused, taking a deep breath. “If you’re going to be with him, I need to know that he’s not going to hurt you.”

Yn crossed her arms, heart racing. “He won’t, Sirius. He’s different now. He’s changed.You just weren't here to see it”

Sirius studied her for a moment, the anger in his eyes fading, replaced by something softer. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy” she said firmly. “With him. I love him, Sirius.”

The confession hung in the air, and Sirius let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I hate that I can’t just accept this,” he muttered, pacing the room. “I just—he’s Snape. He’s always been Snape.”

“Maybe it’s time to let that go,” she said, her voice steady. “You have to let me make my own choices.”

Sirius stopped, turning to face her, vulnerability etched in every line of his face. “I just wish you’d chosen someone else, someone-”

“Someone safer?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You want me to date someone you approve of? That’s not how love works, Sirius. It’s not just about safety; it’s also about connection and heart.”

He opened his mouth to argue but then closed it, the fight leaving him. “I don’t want to lose you,not after… Regulus” he admitted, his voice breaking.

“You won’t,” she promised, stepping closer, reaching for his hands. “I’ll always be your sister, no matter what.”

A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, Sirius pulled her into a tight embrace, and she melted against him, feeling the warmth of family wrap around her.

“I just want you to be safe,” he murmured into her hair, and she felt the tremor in his voice.

“I will be,” she whispered back, her heart swelling with love for her brother. “I promise.”

The next day, as the sun broke through the clouds, casting light upon the darkened house, Yn found Severus in the garden, tending to the herbs she had planted. The vibrant greens and delicate blooms stood in stark contrast to the somber atmosphere of Grimmauld Place.

“Hey,” she said softly, approaching him.

Severus looked up, his expression softening at the sight of her. “How did your conversation with your brother go?”

“He’s…coming around,” she replied, a small smile breaking through her earlier worries. “He just needs time.”

“Time,” Severus echoed, a hint of skepticism in his tone. “That can be a double-edged sword.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, reaching out to touch a petal of a blooming herb. “But I think he’ll come to see that we’re not just some reckless fling. This is real between us.”

Severus stepped closer, his eyes locking onto hers. “And what if he doesn’t? What if he never accepts this?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” she said firmly, determination swirling within her. “I won’t let fear dictate my happiness.”

For a moment, Severus studied her, and then his lips curled into a rare smile. “You are far more stubborn than I anticipated.”

“Stubbornness is a family trait,” she teased, her heart swelling with affection. “But that doesn't stop me from loving you”

As they stood together, the sun casting a warm glow around them, Yn felt a sense of peace settle within her. The path ahead was uncertain, but her heart was anchored in the knowledge that love, no matter how complicated, was worth fighting for.

And as the winds of change swept through the garden, Yn knew she would stand strong—both for herself and for the love she had chosen, no matter who stood against her.

[yoonkinii]

Argument with Sukuna

Warning(s): cursing, heated arguments, name calling, insults, mentions of being depressed, self doubt. (If I am missing any, let me know ASAP) Requested by this request Requests open! (only for this AU) Masterlist (check for more AU content) Note(s): I am so sorry it took me literally forever to upload this. I got slammed with midterms and my new job so it took me a while to get around to editing this part.

Doubt- a creeping, insidious emotion that sinks its claws into your chest, digging deeper with each passing moment. It’s the very thing that has wrapped itself around you now, slowly consuming you from the inside out as you spiral deeper into the sluggish pit of overthinking. It gnaws at your thoughts, festering in your mind, even as you stand before the familiar doorway, dressed in a white dress, the soft fabric contrasting with the roughness of the leather jacket draped over your shoulders- his leather jacket.

Your fingers tighten around your phone, the screen’s bright glow illuminating your face as you bite your bottom lip, the sensation a poor distraction from the unease bubbling within you. Your eyes scan the messages again and again, searching for clarity in the words that now feel heavy with doubt. 

Nothing. Hours had passed since his lunch break, and still, there was no reply. Each time you texted, a small hope flickered, only to be extinguished by the silence that followed. With each unanswered message, the doubt that had been simmering beneath the surface grew stronger, tightening its grip on you. You knew the risk of being annoying, yet the gnawing feeling inside pushed you to  reach out again, and again- only to be met with more nothingness. 

With a sigh, you slipped your phone into your purse and rapped your knuckles against the door. Silence greeted you. Just as you raised your hand to knock again, the door cracked open, revealing a pair of familiar brown eyes. 

“Y/n! I didn’t know you were coming over,” he says cheerfully, his voice carrying the usual warmth. 

A sharp pain of anxiety hit you at his innocent comment, the unease twisting in your gut. “You didn’t?” you muttered, brow furrowing as Yuji leads you into the kitchen. 

A pang of anxiety shot through you at his innocent comment. Your brows narrow as Yuji leads you into the kitchen. “You didn’t?”

He shakes his head casually, already reaching into the fridge and pulling out a gallon of milk. Without hesitation, he uncapped it and took a long drink, oblivious to your growing concern. 

“Where’s Sukuna?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, though your mind was racing with a hundred different possibilities. The hope that Sukuna was just busy, still getting ready, lingered desperately. 

Yuji wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, waving off the question as he set the milk down. “He’s in his room, asleep. Came home all moody- said something about needing a nap and just shut himself in there. Hasn’t come out since,” he replied, nonchalant as he ranted about his uncle, completely unaware of the storm brewing in your chest. 

Your heart sank, a heavy weight settling in your chest as you swallowed hard. Offering Yuji a quiet thank you, you turned and followed the familiar path to Sukuna’s bedroom. Your mind was a whirlwind of disbelief and frustration, unable to comprehend that he’d actually do this- again. With each step, dread gnawed at you, but it was anger that simmered beneath the surface, flaring as you reached his door. 

You didn’t bother to be gentle. Swinging the door open, you flicked on the lights, flooding the room in a harsh, luminescent glow. Sukuna’s reaction was immediate.

“Fuckin’ hell, Yuji. I’m trying to sleep,” he groaned, his arm instinctively covering his eyes to block the sudden brightness. 

“Oh, I am so sorry to disturb your royal slumber, Lord Sukuna,” you snapped, sarcasm dripping from your words as your annoyance echoed in the room. 

Sukuna shifted, squinting past the light to get a look at you. The sight of you standing there, arms crossed and clearly fuming, made him sight deeply, frustration creeping into his voice. “Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand over his face.

“Are you kidding me, Sukuna?” you start, your voice rising with every word as you plant your hands firmly on your hips. “This is the third time you’ve blown me off. What is your deal?” You raised three fingers to punctuate your frustration, your tone sharp with irritation. 

He rolls his eyes, scoffing as he sits up. “It’s not a big deal, doll. We can hang out another time.”

“Not a big deal?” you repeat, your voice going up an octave as you stared at him in disbelief. “Not a big deal? Are you fucking serious? You’ve said that exact same thing the last three  times you’ve bailed.” You glare at him, anger radiating off of you. 

Sukuna met your glare with a harsher one, his expression hardening as if your anger was completely unjustified, as though you had no right to be upset.

“Oh my God, you are so damn needy,” he spat, his voice laced with venom. “Sorry that I can’t drop everything for you. I have a job that’s more important than going on dates all the time. Damn, you’re such a nuisance.” His words were sharp, slicing through the air with a brutal finality as he stared you down from where he lay. 

The world stops for you. His words replaying in your mind over and over again. It’s not just his words anymore. The dam inside your mind finally breaks, your mind filling with the comments you’ve ignored so far. 

For a moment, the world seems to stop. His words echo in your mind, replaying like a broken record, growing louder and more painful with each repetition. But it wasn’t just his words now. It was every cruel comment, every sneer, and every judgment you had ignored until now. 

“Look at her. She’s just after his money.”

“What is she wearing? Doesn’t she know the attire is supposed to be business classy, not-hang-your-tits out.”

“It’s cute how she thinks Ryomen actually cares about her.”

“What a whore, can’t she survive for two seconds without clinging to him?”

The dam inside your mind broke. Every ounce of doubt, sadness, and frustration you’d suppressed surged forth all at once, overwhelming you. Tears of anger and hurt welled up, spilling from your eyes as your fists clench at your sides. 

“Fuck you, Ryomen.”

His last name, spoken with such finality, snapped his attention back to you. His eyes widened briefly at the sight of your tears, but his frown only deepened. 

“Seriously, you’re crying?” he scoffs, the corner of his mouth curling in disbelief, as though your emotions were an inconvenience to him. He sits up in the bed, the blanket falling to his wasit, exposing his tattooed chest. With his arms crossed, he tilted his head at you, the condescension in his gaze unmistakable.

“God…you’re insufferable sometimes. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Oh? Well, I’m sorry for wanting to spend time with my own damn  boyfriend,” you snap, your voice trembling with emotion. A white-hot anger flared inside you, making your chest burn as you pointed a trembling finger at him. “You are such a dick, Sukuna! I understand you’re busy, but you’re not even trying to see me.”

“I don’t fucking want to,” he growls, nostrils flaring as his anger matches your own. His gaze bore into you like you were insignificant, something beneath him. “I don’t want to spend every second with you. It’s suffocating. Don’t you get that?”

Your face falls, the fire in your chest extinguished in an instant, leaving only a hollow ache behind. The room seemed to freeze, thick with an eerie silence as the harsh lights threw long, jagged shadows across the walls. Your hands drop to your sides, nails digging into your palms. Trembling slightly, your eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet his gaze. 

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, Sukuna lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair through his hair in frustration, “Y/n-”

But he doesn’t get the chance to finish. You turn on your heel and walk out of his room, the movement quick, decisive. Something inside him snapps at the sight of you leaving, and his voice erupts after you, echoing through the halls. “Fuck you then!”

Grumbling under his breath, Sukuna stands from his bed, the sudden absence of your presence unnerving him more than he’d care to admit. He stomped towards the door, grabbing the edge to slam it shut. But as he moved to close it, he froze.

Yuji stood at the end of the hallway, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Gone was the boy’s usual bright smile, replaced by a cold, unwavering gaze. 

“You’re a dick,” Yuji said, his voice calm, yet heavy with disappointment. 

Three simple words, but they hit Sukuna harder than he’d expect, cutting through his defenses like a blade. His lips curled into a snarl, masking the sharp sting of Yuji’s comment. With a sharp flick of his wrists, he slams the door, the sound reverberating through the room. 

Sukuna leaned his forehead against the door, relishing the cool touch of the wood against his heated skin. 

She doesn’t understand him at all. 

-

He doesn’t understand at all. 

Time has dragged on painfully these past few days, each second stretching into an eternity. The world around him seems muted, painted in dull shades of gray and blue. Nothing shines the way it used to; everything irritates him. People, places- everything feels wrong, like clothes that don’t fit. And he’s left grasping at an explanation, yet understanding nothing. 

In the dark of his bedroom, the only light comes from the dim glow of his phone screen, casting eerie shadows on his face. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and flashes of lightning briefly illuminate the room, breaking through the oppressive gloom. His eyes scan the messages on his screen- dozen of texts sent to you, one after another, each more desperate than the last. 

A week.

An entire week without your smile, your laugh, your touch, or your kiss. Time has slowed to a crawl without you, every minute dragging him further into the suffocating void of your absence. At first, he didn’t care that you were ignoring him. It was your issue for getting upset- at least that’s what he told himself. But as the days beld together, something shifts. The weight of what he’d lost settled into his bones, and he began to understand the hollowness you must’ve felt- the same emptiness now consuming him. 

It’s unbearable. Each second stretched out in the silence, thick with a loneliness he never noticed before you came into his life. Now, it’s all he can feel- this aching void. And he knows, deep down, he messed up. He sees it in the way Yuji looks at him, the silent judgment behind those eyes every time they cross paths. It cuts deeper than Sukuna thought possible, slicing him in two with each glance. 

Another flash of lightning, and he’s up. Without thinking, without even grabbing his jacket, he’s out of his bed, storming out of the house before the rational part of his mind could stop him. He can’t take it anymore- this hollow, gnawing ache that’s been clawing at him. He needs to see you. Now. 

-

The relentless patter of rain against your window muffles the found from you TV, the show playing fading into a distant hum. You can’t even remember the name of the program or what it was about. Your half-lidded eyes stare blankly at the flickering screen, knees pulled close to your chest. The cool night air slips through the slightly open window, chilling your skin and raising goosebump across every inch of you. The hoodie- his hoodie- offers little warmth, but you don’t care. The cold is the furthest thing from your mind.

These past few days, you haven’t been able to focus on anything- school, work, even the most mundane tasks seem distant and irrelevant. Your thoughts drift aimlessly during class as lectures drag on and on, or while you mindlessly restock shelves. Even Shokok noticed something was off. She poked your side during class, slipping you a note with a simple, loaded question

‘Are you okay?’

A question you still don’t know how to answer.

Sukuna’s words left a deep scar, one that feels impossible to heal simply by ignoring him. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cried, the sting of his voice and the cruel whispers of others replaying in your head like a vicious cycle. His name lights up your phone screen more than once, and every time you choose to ignore it. Call it petty, but you want him to feel some of the hurt you felt when he brushed you off like you didn’t matter. Yet as the days stretch on and your phone continues to vibrate, you begin to wonder if this silent war is worth it. 

Even now, your eyes sting from the tears you’ve shed. You know you shouldn’t be crying this much, that you should be stronger, more resilient like those girls who don’t care what others think. But you’re not like that- you care deeply, too much sometimes. Yes, you’re angry at Sukuna, but beneath that anger lies an overwhelming sadness you can’t seem to shake. 

The TV flashes as a commercial for some love-themed product plays, the word “love: glowing brightly on the screen. A bitter frown tugs at your lips- how ironic. You lean forward to grab the remote from the coffee table, ready to change the channel, when a knock echoes from the door. The student noise startles you, cutting through the rain and the murmur of the TV, sending a jolt of fear through your body. 

You freeze, eyes locked on the door, unsure if you’d actually heard anything. A second knock comes, more urgent this time, breaking the silence. Slowly, you make your way toward the door, hesitation pulling at every step. It’s late, the rain pounds against the windows, and you weren’t expecting anything. The thought of ignoring it crosses your mind, but the knock persists, louder, more frantic. 

With a sigh, you unlock the door and crack it open, only to swing it wide in shock at the sight before you. 

Sukuna stood there, drenched from head to toe. His soaked hair clung to his forehead, water dripping down his face as his chest heaves, clearly out of breath, like he had run all the way here. Judging by his disheveled appearance, he probably did. He was dressed in nothing but pajama pants and a white tank top, both utterly soaked, the thin fabric of his shirt sticking to his muscular frame like a second skin. 

Your heart stutters in your chest, wide eyes scanning him up and down, trying to comprehend why he was here- why now- when he was the one so furious with you. His presence felt surreal. Sukuna, your sharp-tongued, blunt boyfriend, looked utterly defeated. The usual fire in his eyes had dimmed, replaced with something distant and heavy. His brows were drawn together, casting faint lines across his forehead, and his mouth- so often curved in a smirk or scowl- was set in a hard, straight line, lips pressed tightly. His whole expression was steeped in sorrow, a quiet, aching weight that made him look so unlike himself. 

“Y/n…” He whispered your name as if it were the only thing holding him together, his voice laced with disbelief. 

You swallowed hard, biting the inside of your cheek as your mind raced. Before you could react, Sukuna moved, stepping inside and pulling you into a fierce embrace. His arms wrapped tightly around you, and though your body instinctively tensed at his touch, the warmth of his closeness stirred a whirlwind of emotions. 

“Please,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and desperate against your skin. “Be angry with me, hate me if you have to- but don’t stay away. I can’t do this anymore.” his voice cracked, raw with emotions, his large frame curling into you as though he could make himself smaller, more vulnerable. 

Shock ripples through you, his words shaking you to your core. Sukuna has never been like this. Harsh, yes. Guarded, certainly. But this? This openness, this need- this was something you’d never seen in him before. The façade he always wore, that untouchable exterior, had finally cracked, and you could see the raw, unguarded person beneath it. 

Slowly, almost hesitantly, your hands found their way around his torso, returning the embrace. “You’re getting my floors all wet,” you teased softly, the tension easing so slightly from your chest as you spoke. 

He let out a low hum, tightening his hold on you. “Sorry,” he whispers, his voice low and rough. “I’m so sorry…for everything.” his words were muffled against your hair, but the weight of them hung heavily in the air. The sincerity in his apology palpable, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the tightness in your chest beginning to lift, if only just a little. 

-

Tendrils of steam drift from the bathroom as Sukuna emerges, a towel draped loosely over his shoulder, catching the last few drops of water from his damp hair. He grunts as he drops onto the couch, his presence immediately filling the room. 

From the kitchen, you eye him, raising a brow at his casual appearance. “You do know I gave you a shirt to wear, right?” you say, stepping closer and handing him a steaming cup of tea. His hands cradle the cup, his eyes fixating on the liquid inside as if it might hold the answers to his thoughts. 

“And you know I don’t like wearing shirts to bed,” he counters, a lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

Humming, you lean your cheek on the back of the couch- your legs tucking themselves close to your chest again. 

You hum softly in response, resting your cheek against the back of the couch, your legs instinctively curling up to your chest. The silence between you grows heavy, and though his smile remains, you can’t shake the lingering weight of what had happened. 

“I’m still angry at you,” you say, your voice softer but firm. 

Sukuna’s eyes remain on the mug for a moment longer before he speaks, his voice low. “I know.”

“What you did,” you begin, your gaze fixed on him, “was really messed up, I can’t believe you spoke to me like that.”

He finally lifts his gaze, meeting yours. His lips pressed into a thin line, and there’s something in his eyes- something softer, almost regretful. “I know,” he repeats, the words filled with quiet acknowledgment. 

Your frown deepens, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “Is that all you’re going to say?” you ask, irritation, creeping into your tone at his lack of explanation. 

Sukuna watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “There’s nothing I can say to undo what happened,” he begins, voice steady but laced with a rare vulnerability. “What I did- it was bad. Really bad. I didn’t understand why you were so upset.”

Your teeth clench at his choice of words, and you shoot him a sharp glare. “You’re terrible at apologizing,” you mutter through gritted teeth. 

He lets out a small, rueful laugh. “I know,” he admits, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek, the gesture almost tender. “I got angry because I didn’t understand. And I can’t say anything to excuse what I did. But I am…truly sorry.”

His voice softens at the end, the weight of his apology hanging in the air between you both. It isn’t perfect, but it’s honest, and for someone like Sukuna, that means more than words ever could. 

With a soft sigh, you inch closer to him. He tenses, casting you a wary glance as you lift his arm, guiding it over your shoulder. For a moment, his arm hovers in the air, unsure, before he slowly lowers it, wrapping it around you in a gesture that feels both hesitant and protective. 

“I appreciate the apology,” you murmur, your cheek suppressed against the warmth of his bare chest. His skin, always radiating heat, feels more like a personal heater. “But I don’t know if I can forgive you just yet.”

Without a word, he places the mug on the coffee table and shifts his position, pulling you down with him until you’re both lying on the couch, your body draped over his. He lets out a deep, content sigh, his arms tightening around you as if afraid you might slip away. On instinct, your legs entwine with his, the closeness both familiar and comforting. His voice, a low rumble, vibrates through his chest as he speaks. 

“That’s alright. I didn’t expect you to forgive me right away,” he says quietly, his breath stirring your hair. “But I’m going to do everything I can to earn it”

Propping your chin on his chest, your eyes meet his as a playful smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I’m going to make you work like a dog to get it back.”

A deep chuckle escapes him, the sound reverberating through his body. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” he replies, his eyes softening with affection. 

Bonus:

“Damn, my back’s killing me,” Sukuna grumbled as he dropped into one of the dining chairs, his face twisting with discomfort. 

Rolling your eyes, you set a plate of breakfast down in front of him. “That’s what you get for sleeping on the couch… and for being old.” 

He shoots a glare in your direction, stabbing his fork into the eggs with more force than necessary. “Ha-ha, hilarious.” 

You settle across from him, your own plate in hand, watching as he eats. The room was quiet except for the sound of clinking cutlery and his occasional grunt when a movement aggravated his back. You simply observed, a content silence falling over you as you ate your meal. 

He had hurt you, deeply, with his words. They’d cut through you like a blade, but right now, in this moment, it didn’t feel as heavy. You could set aside the hurtful comments whispered behind your back and deal with them later. What mattered was now- this quiet morning,watching your boyfriend clear his plate, his eyes occasionally flicking up to meet yours. 

“What?” His piercings caught the morning light, glinting as he gave you a curious look. 

“Sure,” he says with a suspicious glance, getting up and taking his plate to the sink. He rinses it off, the sound of running water filling the small space. “I’ll need to head back to my place soon.”

A pang of disappointment hits you, but you mask it with a short nod. “Okay. Your shirt should be dry now.”

“He glances over his shoulder. “Be ready when I come back later.”

You blink, caught off guard your fork pausing mid-bite. “Wait, why?”

His lips tug into a small smirk. “Didn’t you want to go to that stupid musical in town?”

Before you could stop yourself, you’re standing, hands pressed flat against the table. Excitement surging through you. “The one I mentioned weeks ago? About Odysseus? That musical?!”

Question after question tumbles from your mouth, your heart racing. Sukuna looks at you, brow arches, clearly confused by your outburst. “Yeah,” he drew out the word, eyes narrowing slightly, “that one. Why are you so worked up?”

With a squeal, you dart over to him, grabbing his cheeks between your hands and squishing them together. He scowls, his lips puckering in protest. “Thank you, Kuna!you exclaim, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss against his squished lips. He grunts but returns the kiss as soon as your lips meet his. 

Pulling away, he peels your hands off his face. “It’s the least I could do. You did say you wanted to go.”

You smile up at him, your heart still fluttering with excitement as he pulls you closer, his hands finding their place on your waist. “Yes, but I only mentioned it in passing. I didn’t think you’d remember.”

He shrugs, squeezing your hips lightly. “I listen sometimes.”

You hum, your arms lopping around his neck. “Yeah, sometimes.”

-

Taglist (open): @kalulakunundrum , @fushipurro , @sad-darksoul , @cupcaketeddybehr

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ Cupid's Chokehold.

˚ · . mirio x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ love at first sight to unrequited love to mutual pining, mentions of character death, a lil angst, reader is a cunty brat, smut, this is more fluff and angst than smut, choking, overstimulation, riding, unprotected sex, cervix, fucking, creampie, multiple orgasms, belly bulge, implied breeding, implied size kink, reader is sir nighteye's daughter, this is all over the place

you walk in, and my heart beats different.

admiring you from afar, mirio had only thought the only way he could really be with you was caring of you in place of your father, sir nighteye.

the moment he had met you, he already knew you would be an important figure within his lifetime. he was practically in awe when sir nighteye had introduced you to him as his only daughter. whilst you were less than cold and almost unreciprocated his warm introductions and questions about you, he was persistent, shaking your hand with a stern yet gentle grip.

personality wise, you had taken after your father, for you had inherited your father's stoicism, almost wary of all. yet, you were rebellious, almost bratty. your father ended up admitting he had spoiled you a little too much, resulting from you being his only precious child.

it came to mirio quickly that you were a stark contrast compared to his more bright and optimistic outlook. nevertheless, later the night of the first time he had met you, he could not help but let out an awkward chuckle at the fact that he just might've fallen in love with you at first sight. he doesn't know whether it was your witty attitude, or if it was your soft and easy-on-the-eyes features, or maybe even just because you were his teacher's daughter.

all he knew, was that from the moment he met you, he had a hard and almost unquenchable longing for you.

whilst the the situation was more than unplanned and undesired, he couldn't decline when your dying father had asked him to take care of you in place of his soon to-be permanent absence. the moment those words please take care of my daughter had left his weak teacher's trembling mouth, he had to agree. he agreed and swore with his entire life, that he would take care of you until the end of time.

he understood when you had at first pushed him away, not taking it to heart when you condemned him to hell. you had just lost your father, you just wanted to be alone. you didn't want what you thought was mirio's pity or sad condolences. you just wanted your father back.

however, he did not see it as appropriate for you to be alone during such a dark time. while feeling almost empty at the loss of his own teacher, he knew what you were feeling was much more than the loss of a teacher. it was a horrible time, but he didn't recommend trying to stride it out by yourself. from what information sir nighteye had told him about you, your father was your only family.

so, he tried again. and again. and again. he tried many times to win over you over, either with promises of getting you a bite to eat or just simple questions about you, he didn't allow himself to feel defeat when you almost always cussed him out each attempt.

the day you had finally let your walls down was a little unexpected. he remembered walking throughout the U.A dorms at night, simply because he wanted to take a late night stroll to relieve some stress. he was surprised to see you on the couch of the shared public living room.

while you did not notice him, he thought you had fallen asleep on the couch as you were limp against the soft cushions, face hidden and leaned against the crevice of your elbow. he was about five feet away from you when he realized you were actually awake. awake, and crying, soft whimpers and sobs escaping despite being muffled by your elbow.

with a soft call of your name, you had shot your head up, face morphing into an expression of distaste when you had, once again, set your eyes upon a helpless mirio. before you could cuss him out once more, he had shushed you, taking place on the couch next to you.

you were about to storm off before mirio finally confessed his intentions. your father had asked me to take care of you. regardless, i'm here for you, and if you want to cuss at me or whatever, then go ahead, i'll be right here the entire time for you, and i'll be here the next time as well.

silence followed afterwards, the next few minutes you didn't even seemingly breathe. mirio so much as let out a relieved sigh when you started to cry even harder, body flopping sideways like a cat into his lap. while you mumbled out obscenities at him, hands coming up to lay weak punches against his thigh, you giving into his support was no doubt one of the best relieving things in the world.

following that, you seemed to have finally accepted his place within your life. at first, you were still begrudgingly giving him a forced smile, engaging in short conversations with him before you just ignored him after a few words. after a while, you began to give genuine smiles at him, eyes crinkling up into pretty crescents when he was able to make you laugh. he didn't know how addicting your sweet laugh was.

he had confessed his feelings for you the morning of a particularly dangerous battle you were assigned to. he was almost crying, feeling almost helpless and scared, unable to help because his stupid quirk was taken away. he babbled out little "i love you"s, and recounts of how he's supposed to be taking care of you. although he knew that your duty as a hero was important to you, he still wanted to declare his love for you before anything could happen, hoping maybe you'd stay behind for him.

but you didn't. it felt as if you confessing your love back was saying goodbye. why would you say goodbye if you planned on returning back to him?

the two days following your departure, he watched the news intently, almost no sign of sleep within him. he pestered his teachers for updates on the situation, clawing at his hair whenever a devastating explosion followed the battle-site. he could only pray when he saw little saw the familiar dark green illumination of your quirk, praying you'd return safe and healthy.

he remembers the high dopamine hit you gave him when he first saw you after your return. your hero costume was tattered, hair and body distressed with little debris and minor wounds, you looked as if you were ran over by a semi-truck. yet, he still considered you the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, running up to you and embracing you with a strong hug.

he was on cloud nine when you kissed him.

the next few months were absolute bliss. he never knew how happy someone could make him by just laughing. he spent his time playing around with you, annoying you for fun, holding your hand, or just simply lazying around in your dorm room.

he felt so lucky to be able to score someone as amazing and beautiful as you. you were so charming and witty, yet still a spoiled brat. he didn't mind giving into your little whines of "i want this," or "can we/or you get [ ]..," absolutely enjoying the satisfaction of you opening his gifts with haste and excitement, even if it came at the expense of an empty bank account.

not even batting an eye at your more tedious "flaws", not taking it to heart when you would, almost like a child, cry out or get angry when something didn't go your way. a chagrin on his face when he once again, despite being very sleepy himself, had to carry you up two floors to your dorm room after you had fallen asleep in the most random place ever.

rest assured, he'd do anything to keep you happy. even if he had to do the weirdest of things to do so.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

the obnoxious creaks of the bed springs echoed throughout the walls of your dorm room, accompanied by the soft pants, pleasurable moans and the lewd fapping of skin-on skin as you rode mirio for the nth time that night.

you whined out as you rode out your nth orgasm of the night, hips unfaltering with skill. you showed no signs of stopping, tight pussy walls clenching around mirio's thick cock. you were so blissed out in pleasure, focusing on relieving the angry stress that had you so mad earlier that you ended up just flopping onto the floor like a cat with defeat.

you were using mirio as if he was a high quality dildo, certainly too focused on yourself to care about the way his hands gripped at your hips with overstimulated pleasure and pain. "hah.. you feel so good.." you mewl out, hand coming down to rub at your clit.

a rough calloused hand travels up your warm belly, mirio lets out a choked breath as his hand continues upwards towards your perky breast, groping it as if it were dough within his hands. his cock twitches at the sight of you riding him like theres no tomorrow. he'd never thought a guy so simple looking would be chosen by a girl of the likes of you.

you're everything but normal, rather he considers you exotic in a way that has him fucking his hand at night. maybe it's the way your plump lips pout as you whine his name, leftover gloss giving an irresistible look to them. it could be the way your long pink acrylic nails scratch new cuts onto his forearm. his other hand moves up from your thigh to caress and worship your body, fingers making sure to not touch the pink glittery jewel of your pierced navel.

maybe that's what has him so addicted to you, so interested in your everyday moves, because you're so different to him it's fascinating.

you're practically fucking him like a bunny in heat, riding him so hard he can audibly hear the lewd impacts of his cock's tip hit your cervix. he's wondered how nobody has woken up to the sounds of your creamy cunt gushing or your loud moans. with the way the headboard slams into the wall, he's sure someone is bound to wake up eventually.

crap, that has his hands traveling back down to your ass, kneading the flesh with his hands while pulling your baby pink thong to the side so that way his cock can enter your cunt without your panties getting in the way. "you're riding me s-so good baby.. fuck. you want me to cum in this pussy again? fill you up nicely?" he gasps out, cursing out when you clench tightly around him again.

he's already came so many times tonight, his thighs are twitching and sore with overstimulation. but he can't bring himself to push you off and decline you. how could he say no to his precious girl? he promised to take care of you in any way after all.

ignoring the almost painful jolt that washes throughout his body, he brings himself to yet another orgasm. his thick seed fulls you up so deliciously for the nth time tonight. you feel so full, the soft of your belly bulging with his cum. your eyes flutter shut, lowly moaning, pussy milking him as another orgasm washes over you just with that.

but it's still not enough. not enough for a greedy girl like you. mirio gives a weak smile when you lean down to connect your lips with his, lazily intertwining your tongue with his. softly moaning into the kiss, his hands stay on your ass, softly massaging the flesh. your lips fit perfectly against his, like two puzzle pieces meant to be together.

your eyebrows furrow as you angle your head at an ungodly angle, almost digging your tongue down his throat. you silently groan at the lewd sounds of fucking face, thick saliva dripping down from mirio's chin.

you only pull away once the itch in your core once again tickles you uncomfortably. you look down at mirio with those puppy eyes of yours, though the heart eyes and darkness of them shows your true intent. "togata.." you mewl out, pedicured hand coming down to caress soothing touches against his hard sore abs as to win him over. "i want more.."

though, you already know his answer, only giving a sly smile when he tries his best to smile through the overstimulation, lightly tapping your thigh to urge you on. he can only try to focus on the pleasure and ignore the pain as you slowly begin to ride him once more.

how could he say no to you? he promised to take care of you after all.

please leave a like and repost with tags :)

[onlinesuzie]

♡ looking after hamzah’s good boys ♡

words: 1.4k

genre : fluff

summary : Hamzah has been so busy filming with Martin for their YouTube channel that he desperately needs someone to look after his two kittens. When he discovers that Mandy’s friend can help, it’s definitely worth the shot.

note: this is my first fic, hold me guys im very nervous!! im aiming to make a part 2 of this soon which will be more smutty. i wanted to separate them just in case you’re wanting some fluff only!!

☆

Hamzah paced restlessly, his steps an obvious sign of his anxious anticipation to meet the girl Mandy has spoken so well of. Occasionally, he would pause to tenderly scratch behind Red's ear, while Blue, bounced around in front of the mirror, attempting to fight his own reflection. It had been a couple days since you had agreed to care for Hamzah’s kittens for a few hours. Your knowledge of Hamzah was extremely limited, you only knew that he played games and filmed videos with Mandy’s boyfriend. This unfamiliarity left you feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, similar to Hamzah's own awkwardness as he now sat beside Red, glancing at his phone, waiting for your message confirming you are now outside around 1 o'clock

As you neared his place, your heart quickened. It wasn’t a big deal, you had been around many cats and other people's pets, but this felt different. There was this almost magnetic pull, a sense of significance that you couldn't quite explain. Perhaps it was the mystery surrounding Hamzah, the possibility of discovering someone wonderful, or meeting someone who you wish you had not have. He lived alone, and without the comfort of an introduction from Mandy or Martin, you felt exposed and vulnerable. Yet, as you climbed the stairs, any second thoughts melted away. You sent a brief message: "I'm here," and stood outside, anticipation and hope swirling within you.

From within, you could hear clumsy, heavy footsteps approaching. A tall, curly-haired boy appeared on the other side of the glass-paned door. He quickly turned the knob and opened it inward, shuffling his feet to create a path into his home. Two ginger kittens immediately pushed past each other, darting straight towards you and nuzzling their heads against your feet and legs.`

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry about them. They don’t get many visitors,” the boy, who you presumed to be Hamzah, said swiftly in a deep voice, pushing his curls back from his forehead.

“No, no, don’t worry about them,” you replied with a light chuckle as you bent down to gently stroke one of the kittens. “It must be my plan of covering myself with catnip to make a good impression.”

“Yeah,” he laughed too. “I guess it’s working a little too well.” He knelt down to stroke Red’s belly as the kitten sprawled on the wooden step in front of the door.

"Fuck, sorry," he exclaimed, standing up abruptly and surprising Red enough to roll back onto his front. "You haven’t even had a chance to come in yet. Do you need any help getting up? I mean, you probably don’t need my help—" He extended his hand, and you took it, letting out a soft groan as you hoisted yourself up.

You let go of his hand first, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. His place was very bright, with stark white walls and a distinct lack of decorations. Beams of light streamed through the kitchen window, landing almost angelically on Hamzah as he swiftly looked away when you made eye contact. His eyes were a warm, inviting brown, a striking contrast to his demeanor, which was quite obviously nervous. This surprised you, as Mandy and Martin had described him as some talkative third wheel.

Clearing his throat, he said, "So, yeah, um, this is it! The home of me and my sons. Sorry about the mess—" There wasn’t really a mess, just a few taped-up boxes and many cat toys scattered on the floor, which he kicked aside to clear a walkway. "So, yeah, that was the kitchen, and this is my living room." He turned around, trying to gauge your reaction. Only then did you get to see those warm brown eyes again.

"Is this where the cats spend most of their time?" you asked with a small smile, breaking eye contact to admire the makeshift cat sanctuary scattered around the room, with mismatched cat towers and scratching posts lining the walls.

"Not really," he replied. "They prefer my room, but I'd rather have them out here. My room is just... I don't know, it’s just my space. So, while you're here, could you please stay out here?" You nodded in agreement.

He went over his house rules, none of which were surprising or new to you, having done similar favors for other friends. The only rule that stood out was his insistence on not entering his room, even if the cats scratched and pleaded to be let in. It didn’t bother you; you understood he had boundaries. Yet, as he explained the various ways to reach him if something happened, you found yourself distracted, noticing the flutter of his eyelashes as he spoke. His love for his kittens was evident in the way they cuddled up to him, purring loudly. You found it endearing how passionately and seriously he took the few hours he’d be away from them.

As he continued, you began to notice other sweet details about him. It wasn’t just his words, but the gentle way he interacted with the animals. His hair was beautiful, the kind that looked soft to touch, even calming to run your hands through. You felt a bit creepy thinking all these things about a stranger, especially one you were essentially babysitting for. But you told yourself it was just harmless thoughts.

Hamzah seemed to notice your distraction and paused, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Sorry if I'm going on too much," he said, his voice softer now. "I just really care about these little guys."

"No, it's fine," you reassured him, meeting his warm brown eyes again. "It's sweet how much you care."

A comfortable silence settled between you two, broken only by the soft purring of the kittens and the distant hum of city life outside. Hamzah cleared his throat again, as if trying to muster up the courage to say something more.

"So, uh," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, "I was thinking, only if you’re comfortable of course, maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? You know, to say thank you properly, I mean if you like keep them alive."

Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected invitation. There was a sincerity in his eyes that made the idea appealing. "I'd like that," you replied, a genuine smile spreading across your face.

"Great," he said, looking both relieved and pleased. "I know this little place nearby. It’s quiet and has the best coffee."

As you both stood there, the awkwardness slowly melting away, you felt a sense of anticipation. Maybe this arrangement of Mandy’s wasn’t just about looking after his kittens; maybe it was the beginning of a something different.

Hamzah was getting ready to leave. As he picked up his keys, the sound caught the attention of the two kittens, who scampered over and nudged his leg just as they had done to you earlier.

"I'm sorry, guys. Please don’t make this harder than it already is. You’ll be fine," he said, opening the door and contorting his body to slide out without the kittens following him. Just before leaving, he popped his head back around the door and called out, "Look after my boys. Remember, you can text me anytime; you already have my number."

"I will. They’ll be good boys for me, won’t you?" you replied, cooing and scratching between Blue's ears. Before you could stop yourself, you added, "Be a good boy for me too, Hamzah!"

You cringed at your remark when you noticed Hamzah's eyes widen and his mouth slightly agape. "Yeah, haha, I'll, um, make you proud," he stammered before accidentally slamming the door. You heard his heavy footsteps quickly descending the steps.

As you settled in with the kittens, you couldn't help but replay the interaction in your mind. There was something undeniably charming about Hamzah, and the idea of getting to know him better was exciting. Red and Blue, sensing your calmness, snuggled up to you, their warmth a comforting presence.

You glanced around the room, taking in the little details of Hamzah’s life. The minimalist décor, the scattered cat toys, the way the light filtered through the windows—all of it told a story of someone who was caring, thoughtful, and perhaps a bit lonely.

As the day wore on, you found yourself looking forward to that coffee date, the possibility of discovering the person behind those warm brown eyes, and the gentle way he cared for his kittens.

[momospetdog]

Pillow Fights

Hirai Momo x F!reader

warnings: fluff:3, pillow fights… obviously

You and Momo had been living together for a few years now. One rainy afternoon, with plans canceled due to the rainy weather, you found yourselves lounging around the house with nothing to do. The rain pounded against the windows, creating a soothing yet monotonous backdrop.

Momo stretched out on the couch, letting out a sigh. “Well, this is a bummer. What do you want to do now?” you glanced over at her, a smile tugging at your lips. “How about we watch a movie? We’ve got plenty of time to kill”

Momo’s eyes lit up. “Alright. I’ll grab some blankets and snacks. You pick the movie” as Momo headed to the kitchen, you browsed through the movie options, eventually settling on a light-hearted comedy.

By the time Momo returned, the living room was transformed into a cozy nook, complete with a pile of blankets and a bowl of popcorn.

You both snuggled up on the couch, wrapped in cozy blankets and munching on popcorn. The rain outside created a soothing soundtrack, the rhythmic drumming against the windows blending with the soft hum of the television. The living room was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the chilly, wet weather outside. The dim lighting from a few strategically placed lamps cast a soft glow, adding to the cozy ambiance.

As the movie played, you found yourself getting more comfortable, sinking deeper into the cushions. The scent of buttered popcorn filled the air. Every so often, you reached into the large bowl of popcorn on your lap, your fingers brushing against Momo’s as she did the same. Each accidental touch sent a small thrill through you.

As the movie ended, you stretched and yawned. You got up to stretch, arching your back and raising your arms above your head. “That was a good movie,” you said, turning to face Momo.

Momo nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. “Yeah, it was. Perfect for a rainy day”

Feeling a surge of playful energy, you grabbed a nearby pillow and swung it gently at Momo. “Gotcha!”

Caught off guard, Momo’s eyes widened in surprise before a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Oh, it’s on,” she declared, grabbing a pillow of her own.

What started as a playful exchange quickly escalated into a full-blown pillow fight. Pillows and feathers flew as they chased each other around the living room, laughing and dodging attacks. Momo, with her quick reflexes, managed to land a few solid hits, while you used clever tactics to evade and counter.

“You’re too slow!” Y/N teased, ducking behind the couch.

“Just you wait,” Momo retorted, launching a playful attack that sent feathers flying everywhere.

You darted around the room, knocking over cushions and sending the popcorn bowl tumbling. You leaped onto the couch, using it as a fortress, while Momo circled around, trying to find an opening.

“You think you’re safe there?” Momo taunted, swinging her pillow and narrowly missing your shoulder. “Safe enough!” you shot back, laughing as you scrambled to the other side.

In the kitchen, they took brief breaks to catch their breath and sip on cold drinks, only to resume the fight with renewed energy. Momo leaned against the counter, panting slightly as she took a gulp of water.

“You’re relentless,” she said with a grin, wiping her forehead.

“You love it,” you teased, taking a swig of yout own drink. Momo laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe a little”

Just then, you had an idea. “Boo! Dobby! Come here!” you called, and within moments, the two playful dogs bounded into the kitchen, tails wagging and eyes bright with excitement.

“Oh no,” Momo said, eyeing the dogs warily. “Not reinforcements!”

“Get her!” Y/N commanded playfully, pointing at Momo.

Boo and Dobby barked happily, jumping around and adding to the chaos. They joined in the fun, playfully nipping at Momo’s feet and making her dance around to avoid them.

Momo laughed, trying to fend off the dogs while still holding her pillow. “Traitors! I thought we were friends!”

“Looks like they’re on my side,” you taunted, laughing as you swung their pillow at Momo.

The kitchen echoed with your laughter and the excited barks of the dogs. Feathers continued to fly as they moved back and forth.

“You think you can win with their help?” Momo challenged, managing to land a solid hit on your shoulder.

“I know I can!” you replied, evading another swing and giving the dogs an encouraging pat. “Go Boo, Dobby!”

Boo jumped up, pawing at Momo’s legs, while Dobby circled around, barking excitedly. Momo’s attempts to fend them off were met with playful growls and more laughter.

“You’re not making this easy!” Momo called out, though her smile never faded. “It’s a pillow fight, not a tea party!” you shot back, swinging your pillow and catching Momo off guard.

The fight culminated in the bedroom, where you collapsed onto the bed in a fit of laughter, surrounded by a cloud of feathers and disheveled pillows. As you lay there, breathless and exhilarated, you turned to Momo, eyes sparkling with joy.

“We’ve made a huge mess,” you said, glancing around at the feathers that had settled everywhere. Momo grinned, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. “Yeah, we did. But it was totally worth it”

You both lay there for a moment, enjoying the aftermath of your playful battle. Finally, you sighed and started to sit up. “Alright, we should probably start cleaning this up before it gets even worse”

Momo grabbed your hand, pulling you back down. “Wait, not so fast. I think you owe me something first” You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what’s that?”

“A kiss,” Momo said with a mischievous smile. “Just one, before we tackle this mess”

You chuckled and leaned in, intending to give Momo a quick peck. But Momo had other plans. She pulled you onto her lap, wrapping her arms around you and deepening the kiss. It was long and tender, filled with the warmth and affection that had grown between you over the years.

As you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless and flushed. Eventually, you reluctantly stood up, pulling Momo with you. “Alright, now we really need to clean up,” you said, looking around at the feather-strewn room.

Momo groaned playfully but nodded. “Yeah, yeah” As you looked around the chaotic room, the realization of the cleanup task ahead of them dawned. Feathers covered nearly every surface, and the pillows were in complete disarray.

“Well, someone’s got to clean this up,” you said, hands on your hips. Momo smirked, leaning against the wall. “And that someone should definitely be you since you started it” you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Me? You were the one who escalated it!”

“But you were the one who threw the first pillow,” Momo countered, a playful glint in her eye. You both stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Okay, how about this,” you suggested, still chuckling. “We do it together, but the person who picks up the least amount of feathers has to make dinner tonight” Momo nodded, agreeing to the terms. “Deal. But you better hope you’re quick”

After a quick comparison on which who picked up the least amount of the feathers—you lost, much to Momo’s delight

By the time you and Momo were done, the apartment was back in order, and both of you were a little tired but incredibly happy. You collapsed onto the couch once more, the dogs jumping up to join you.

You snuggled close to Momo, feeling utterly content. “I love you,” you murmured. Momo wrapped an arm around you, pulling you even closer. “I love you more”

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Night on the town

Mandalorian x reader

Pairing: Din Djarin Mandalorian x reader

Warning: mentions of alcohol and some 18+ themes. No minors please!

Summary: Reader doesn’t listen to Mandos warnings about staying on the ship, then wakes up with something new and a bit troubling…

****************************************************

“Don’t leave the ship” those four words had been echoing in your head all week.

For months you’d never really minded following your Mandalorians orders, most planets he landed on for bounties were backwater scugholes whose inhabitants were low level creeps and criminals. You were perfectly fine staying within the safe compounds of the ship normally…but this planet was different.

Ceralis 3 was known for its bustling city full of high quality clothing stalls, the tastiest food establishments, musical performances, and oh how you couldn’t stop thinking about the renowned city square that’s lit up like starlight when the suns go down and everyone gathers to dance. You’d seen so many brochures advertising Ceralis 3 as a top vacation spot. And now you were finally here… stuck on a ship.

“Must be nice..” you mumble head resting flat on your arms watching the suns set from behind the glass of the ships viewport. The twinkling lights in the distant mocking you as if to say “here we are shining so bright and you’re stuck in a dark smelly cockpit”.

Ok so maybe that’s an exaggeration.. but still you were minutes away from going crazy with boredom.

“Don’t leave the ship” he said from the bottom of the ramp like he always does before leaving for a bounty.

Bounty hunting usually doesn’t take a week though… ugh

You lean up on your arms watching the twinkling lights of the city getting brighter. What was everyone doing now? Drinking? Dancing? Having 1000x more fun than you were right now??

You glance at the small data pad that Din gave you. When he was finished with a bounty he usually sent a quick message through.

You checked it again for the millionth time.

No new messages…

What if you just went for a quick look… no

No you couldn’t do that, din would be angry if he found out.

If he found out…

If…

You check the data pad again. Every time he sent a message it usually took him a decent amount of time to get back to the ship, he’d usually stop for supplies and whatnot.

So you had time even if he messaged you while you were out…

But could you break his trust so easily-

*pop pop pop*

Bright strands of fiery light shot up from the skyline in the shapes of flowers.

Well he didn’t need to know everything…

You sprung up practically jumping down the ladder to your small closet.

You smirked pulling out the one nice “out for a night on the town outfit” you owned. A stark contrast to the usual travel outfits you donned.

You applied some light makeup, grabbed your satchel and were off the ship in record time.

You took note of the pathway, and kept the data pad close to your hip in case that all to familiar beep sounded and you needed to rush back..

You gasped nearing a well lit archway taller than anything you’d seen before.

Giddy with excitement you ran in and were immediately overtaken by a rush of… well everything.

The streets were lit bright with lanterns, full of laughing and singing people.

The smells were making your mouth water wondering what on earth could smell so heavenly, and the buildings.. oh the absolutely breathtaking carvings. You didn’t know what to do first!

So you did the first thing that you saw, you ate from several stalls, bought a bunch of jewelry and souvenirs that you absolutely didn’t need, watched a few performances, drank some juice being served on a tray that you didn’t realize had alcohol… and then made your way to the famous square.

Oh and what a sight it was… like someone had the most dazzling dream and brought it to life. Everyone was jumping and dancing to live musicians. You wondered briefly if your Mandalorian could dance. Probably not.. but maybe if you really asked nicely he would.. or if you just dragged him..

You wished he was here.. you usually weren’t separated that long so it’s been a little lonely.

You sighed watching the couples dance and hold each other warmly. Some kissing some just gazing into each others eyes…

Ok more than a little lonely..

Maybe you should head back..

You sipped on your juice walking back in the direction of the ship.

What lovely juice, so sweet and spicy at the same time..

Mmm juicy juice so lovely

Hmm you peeked at a stall in passing, maybe you should get him something? Yeah that’s right, he wouldn’t be mad at you for leaving if you got him a gift!

Maybe you’d get some more juice while you shopped and then maybe——-

************************************************

Ugh why is my head pounding so bad…

You wince sitting up in the cot holding your head with a hand.

You blink slowly regaining your senses, the previous nights memories ending in a blur. You didn’t even remember coming back to the ship…

Ugh you were so stupid, the “juice” was alcohol and you’d had so many of them..

You panicked a bit not seeing your satchel on the hook but then calmed seeing it on the floor.

With a sigh you reached in pulling out the data pad and pressing the button.

*new message*

Oh kriff..

*Heading back. Shouldn’t take more than half a day.*

Half a day… wait when did he send that!?

The sky was so bright outside how long had you been asleep?? You looked down seeing you were still dressed up from last night.

I better change before he gets-

You stumble a bit feeling your leg let out a painful throb.

Oh no was I stupid and injured myself last night?

Quickly you pull up your clothing expecting a bruise or a cut or something but instead what awaited you was infinitely worse.

“Oh maker what have I done…”

You vaguely remember wanting to get something for Din but why on earth did your drunken state think that was a good idea!?!?

Kriff what did I do!?!?

You wobble quickly to the mirror to get a better look at the new addition to your outer thigh.

An abstract outline of your mandalorians helmet with his name cursively written under it.

Oh now you remembered.. bits and pieces as you stumbled into a tattoo stall and scribbled on a paper demanding it be the bestest bestie best tattoo ever, you even remember the guy asking if you wanted to wait until you were sober but then you cried until he did it.

Kill me now…

Ugh Why why why!? How was I going to explain this to Din!?

As if the universe was punishing you even more you heard a familiar beeping and gasped feeling the vibrations of the ships ramp moving.

Of kriffing course he would arrive now!

You quickly pull your clothing down and try to look as nonchalant as you can watching as Din walks up the ramp into the hull.

His bounty blocked your view of him but he was fighting and throwing some curses but Din is quick to throw him in the carbonite freezer.

You gulp as he finally turns around to regard you.

“Welcome back..” you tried to sound like your normal self. Key word being tried.

Din stood still for a moment then his helmet slowly shifted from your face down to your body then up again.

Oh yeah my outfit and makeup…

“You look…nice” he said a bit confused.

Maybe you could spin this…

“Oh well I um wanted to um surprise you… I really missed you Din..”

You hoped your nervousness would be taken as you just being embarrassed to dress up for him.

He tilted his helmet a bit, his stance relaxing ever so slightly and he took a couple steps in your direction.

“Yeah?”

Oh how easy men could be sometimes…

“Yeah” you smiled stepping forward too and wrapping your arms around him. “You were gone a while this time..”

He pulled back a bit to see you but his strong arms were still held firm around you.

“Yeah the bounty was more work than I originally anticipated, sorry you had to be alone so long.”

“It’s alright..you’re back now that’s all that matters…” you smile up into his visor knowing his eyes are deeply peering into yours just as lovingly.

His hands slide a bit and he grips you a bit tighter “if I knew you were gonna dress up just for me, I would’ve forgotten all about the bounty and rushed here..”

“Mm I’ll have to remember that for next time…” you lean up tilting your head to the side to kiss the bare skin just under his helmet. He breathes in, deep and crackley through the modulator.

Your hands reach up about to lift his helmet off when suddenly his head moves to the side.

“Din?” You frown a bit following his gaze then when you do your eyes widen a bit at what you see.

A beautifully beaded tote bag overflowing with items leaned against the wall, a strand of pearls strewn across it along with a shimmery scarf and a bottle of “juice”. Oh Kriff just how drunk did you get last night!?!?

“What’s that?”

“Oh um just some old stuff I pulled out when I was trying stuff on for you..”

He pulled away and you knew you had messed up.

“Din..?”

He approached the bag and knelt down. He picked up the bottle with one hand.

“And you just happened to have an alcohol that’s only produced on this planet in your storage?” His voice had completely shifted from gentle and loving to interrogative typical pre meeting me Mando.

“Well…”

He abruptly stood up with a sigh.

“You left the ship” he stated with a huff.

You bite your lip looking away from the intense stare.

“…”

“What’s the one thing I told you never to do?” You could tell he was angry but was trying to hold it back.

“…go against your orders..”

“Go against my orders and what did you do?”

“I left the ship… I’m sorry but I was so bored and lonely and I just…” maker could you sound any more pathetic and whiny.

He let out a huff of annoyance, “you put yourself in danger because you were bored?”

“Din..”

“You don’t know this planet, and I have a million enemies, I don’t tell you to stay on the ship for the hell of it” he bit out getting more frustrated.

“I… I know… I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking..”

You heard a sigh again and hesitantly looked up. His shoulder relaxed a bit his tone a bit softer but still plenty stern. “I can’t go after bounties and worry about you too..”

Well now you felt like absolutely shit

“Oh Din I’m so sorry, of course you can’t, shouldn’t actually. It was dumb and stupid and reckless and I promise I won’t leave again. No matter how tempting it is..”

He stood for a moment deciding you were sincere in your words, he held out a single arm motioning for you to come closer again,

You do and hug him muttering another apology.

“So you didn’t dress up for me huh..?”

Oh..

You peek up from his chest finding his gaze on yours,

“Well… not exactly but my first thought when I looked in the mirror was how I wished you were by my side to see me… does that count?”

He lets out a scoff and lowers his hands “No”

You pout

“But I know how you can make it up to me”.

His hands are back on you stroking your thighs kneeding them softly when all the sudden you yelp.

He pulls away shocked “what’s wrong?”

“Oh uh nothing just got caught up in the moment…”

His head tilts and boy for someone with a helmet on his expressions were clear as day.

“Wanna run that by me again?”

“I had a cramp?” You lamely ask.

Seconds of silence pass before his hands are reaching for the tips of your dress.

“Ah wait no!”

You jump back not ready now or ever for him to see your latest mistake.

He freezes, now that’s something you’d never done before.

“You hurt yourself didn’t you?” He crosses his arms.

“I did not..”

“Then what are you hiding?”

“….”

He sighs again loudly “you have three seconds to show me before I do it myself.”

Kriff…

You hesitate not knowing what to do.

“One”

Ugh what now!?

“Two”

Maybe you could lock yourself in the fresher…

“Three”

You make a dash for the open door but make it all of two steps before strong arms pull you back.

“Really?” He huffs annoyed.

“Din wait!”

“Just relax what’s the worst it could be?”

No way you couldn’t show him, you catch him off guard by fighting his hold.

“Hey stop that”

“Enough!” His bark cuts through you like a knife and you freeze.

He spins you around, his hands locked onto your arms.

“Din...” you plead but he won’t budge.

He maneuvers your hands into one of his while his other reaches for your dress. You can’t help but try one more time to evade him and use the one move he taught you in self defense,

Of course because he’s who he is all it buys you is three seconds before he has you sprawled over his knees.

How ironic… if only he knew how you’d fantasized about this exact position.

“You really wanna make things hard don’t you?”

“Din please you don’t understand! Just leave me alone-“ and just like that the delicate freshly tattooed skin was exposed to the cool air of the ship and his searing gaze.

Then it was silent..

“I-I didn’t mean to I got drunk by accident and then wanted to get you a gift and for some crazy reason I thought a tattoo would be a good idea and…and…and-“ your nervous ramblings continued until you suck in a sharp breath feeling soft fingers caress the area just around the tender area.

“You did this…for me?”

“W-well yeah…”

You try to turn your head to see him but it’s impossible in your condition.

He silently caresses the area around it as if he…wait no way!?

“Do… do you like it?” You asked hesitantly.

He let out a breath.

“Can’t say I hate it…”

Oh my maker

“R-really?” You question an eyebrow raised.

“Mm” you flinch a bit feeling his fingers trace over the sore area.

He pulled you up so you were straddling him facing his visor.

“Sorry I left the ship…” you say after a few moments of silence.

“Swear you won’t do that again..”

“I promise..”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Yes” he said without hesitation.

“Really? After all the trouble I went through getting you your gift” you smirk a bit wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

His hands gripped your thighs squeezing softly, “Yes…” you smiled knowing by his voice he was all talk. You already had him in the palm of your hand.

“Want me to make it up to you?” You whisper near the side of his helmet.

He makes some sort of hum through the helmet and you take that as a yes, you push him back a bit so the distance between you is closed, your core pressed against him deliciously.

His hands travelled around squeezing and caressing in the ways only he knew how you liked. You’re about to lift his helmet up so you could finally kiss him when he pauses his movements.

Ugh not again

“What’s wrong?”

“You were drunk…?”

Ah Kriff, why did I have to let that part slip out.

“Y-yes but just a bit…”

He looks at you in a no nonsense way,

“Ok maybe more than a bit but it really wasn’t my fault, I didn’t know the drinks had alcohol..”

He sighs

Man if I had a credit for everytime I made this man sigh…

“I know I know, it was dumb and reckless and I won’t do it again, can we go back to what we were doing please? Remember the tattoo I got for you?”

I push his helmet towards my thigh.

He lets out a little laugh, “alright alright I get it”

His thumb strokes it again, “it suits you”

You let out a laugh, “I think it suits you more…didn’t realize you were that type of guy…but honestly it’s growing on me too, he did a good job didn’t he?” You peer down admiring the details. Not realizing Dins fingers had froze.

“He?”

“….”

Oh Kriff

************************************************

I’ve been on a huge Mandalorian kick lately and had this little idea. Hope you enjoyed! Also please excuse the lazy editing❤️

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Parenthood

Joel Miller x wife/ pregnant/fem reader

Summary : After Y/N's water breaks unexpectedly at a grocery store, Joel rushes to her side. They navigate a whirlwind trip to the hospital where Y/N gives birth to their daughter, Sarah.

Y/N shuffled through the grocery store, her hand resting on her heavily pregnant belly. At nine months, she was ready to meet her baby any day now. She picked up a carton of milk, adding it to the assortment of items in her cart. Suddenly, a sharp pain surged through her abdomen, causing her to gasp and clutch the cart for support.

A gush of warm fluid followed, and she realized with a jolt that her water had broken. Heart pounding, she fumbled for her phone, dialing Joel’s number. He answered on the second ring, his deep voice filled with concern.

"Hey, darlin’. Everything alright?"

“Joel,” she panted, trying to steady her breath. “My water just broke. I’m at the grocery store.”

There was a brief silence before Joel’s voice came back, urgent and steady. “Stay right there, Y/N. I’m on my way. I’ll grab the hospital bag and be there in a few minutes. Just hang tight.”

Y/N nodded, even though he couldn’t see her, and ended the call. She leaned against the cart, taking deep breaths as another contraction hit her hard. Time seemed to stretch, each minute feeling like an eternity until she finally saw Joel rushing through the store entrance, his face a mix of worry and determination.

He reached her in record time, wrapping a supportive arm around her. “It’s going to be okay, darlin’. Just breathe.”

Y/N shot him a look, her eyes blazing with pain and frustration. “Easy for you to say,” she snapped, the intensity of her contractions making her irritable. Joel didn’t take it personally; he knew it was the pain talking.

They managed to get to the truck, Joel helping her in before grabbing the hospital bag from the backseat. He drove as fast as he dared, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting reassuringly on Y/N’s thigh.

The ride to the hospital was a blur of contractions and deep breaths. Joel kept glancing over at Y/N, his heart aching with every wince of pain she made. "Almost there," he kept murmuring, more to himself than to her.

At the hospital, nurses quickly whisked Y/N away, Joel by her side, his presence a calming anchor in the storm of her labor. The bright, sterile lights of the hospital room contrasted sharply with the chaos unfolding within Y/N’s body. Hours passed in a blur of pain and anticipation. Y/N gripped Joel’s hand tightly, her knuckles white.

“It’s going to be okay,” Joel whispered, brushing the damp hair from her forehead. He tried to keep his voice steady, though seeing her in so much pain was tearing him apart.

“It’s time to push,” the doctor finally announced, positioning herself at the end of the bed.

Joel leaned in close, his forehead touching Y/N’s. “You got this, darlin’. I’m right here.”

With a primal scream, Y/N bore down, pushing with every ounce of strength she had. Joel’s encouraging words washed over her, even as the pain seemed to reach an unbearable peak. Finally, a tiny wail pierced the room, and Y/N collapsed back onto the bed, tears streaming down her face.

The doctor held up their newborn, a perfect little girl, her cries filling the room with new life. “What should we name her?”

Joel and Y/N exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them. “Sarah,” they said in unison, both of them crying now.

The nurses cleaned Sarah up and placed her gently on Y/N’s chest. Y/N cradled her daughter, looking down at the tiny face with overwhelming love and relief. Joel kissed Y/N’s forehead, tears mingling with sweat and joy. “You did amazing, darlin’. She’s perfect.”

A little while later, with Y/N resting peacefully, Joel held Sarah against his bare chest, the warmth of her tiny body against his skin. He looked down at her, marveling at the miracle in his arms.

“Hey there, Sarah,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m your daddy. I love you so much, even though I just met you.”

He kissed the top of her head, tears falling freely down his cheeks. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the profound connection between a father and his newborn daughter.

As he sat there, holding Sarah, Joel thought back to the moment he first found out he was going to be a father. The fear, the excitement, the overwhelming sense of responsibility it all seemed so distant now. Here, with Sarah in his arms, everything felt right. The future was uncertain, but for now, in this moment, he had everything he needed.

Joel sat there for hours, just holding Sarah, feeling the rise and fall of her tiny chest against his. He whispered promises to her, vows of love and protection. He told her about the world she was coming into, about the family that would always be there for her.

As dawn broke, casting a soft light into the hospital room, Y/N stirred and woke. She smiled at the sight of Joel with Sarah. “How is she?”

“She’s perfect,” Joel replied, his voice filled with awe. He handed Sarah back to Y/N, watching as mother and daughter shared a quiet moment.

“Thank you, Joel,” Y/N whispered, tears in her eyes. “For everything.”

“No, thank you,” Joel replied, leaning down to kiss her. “For giving me the greatest gift of all.”

Together, they sat in the early morning light, marveling at the tiny life they had brought into the world. It was the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with love, challenges, and countless precious moments. And as they looked down at Sarah, they knew they were ready for it all, as long as they were together.

Y/N shifted slightly, adjusting Sarah in her arms, and Joel couldn’t help but marvel at how natural she looked as a mother. The weariness from labor was still etched on her face, but it was overshadowed by the radiant glow of love and joy. Joel reached out, gently tracing a finger along Sarah’s cheek.

“She’s got your nose,” he remarked softly, smiling as Sarah’s tiny fingers wrapped around his.

Y/N chuckled, her laughter a soft, soothing sound. “And your eyes.”

Joel’s heart swelled with pride. “She’s got the best parts of both of us.”

The days that followed were a whirlwind of new experiences and sleepless nights. Joel and Y/N navigated the challenges of parenthood together, learning as they went. Joel’s hands, calloused and strong from years of work, became gentle and adept at changing diapers and soothing Sarah’s cries. Y/N, despite the exhaustion, found an inner strength she never knew she had, her instincts guiding her through the endless feedings and late-night cuddles.

One evening, a few weeks after Sarah’s birth, Joel sat in the nursery, rocking her to sleep. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a nightlight, casting gentle shadows on the walls decorated with hand painted stars and moons. Sarah’s breathing was steady and calm, her tiny body nestled against Joel’s chest.

He sang softly to her, a lullaby his mother used to sing to him. His voice, rough and deep, was filled with tenderness. As he sang, memories of his own childhood came flooding back memories of love and loss, of a life that had shaped him into the man he was today. Holding Sarah, he felt a sense of peace and purpose that he hadn’t known in years.

Y/N stood in the doorway, watching them with a soft smile. She stepped into the room, wrapping her arms around Joel from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“You’re a natural,” she whispered.

Joel shook his head slightly, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m just figuring it out as I go.”

“Aren’t we all,” Y/N replied, kissing his cheek. “But you’re doing an amazing job.”

Joel turned his head to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers. “We’re doing an amazing job. Together.”

Months passed, and Sarah grew, each day bringing new milestones and moments of wonder. Her first smile, her first laugh, the first time she rolled over each moment was a treasure, a memory etched into their hearts.

One warm afternoon, Joel took Sarah outside, cradling her in his arms as they walked through the garden. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle buzz of bees flitted around them. He sat down on a bench, holding Sarah up so she could see the world around her.

“See those flowers, Sarah?” he said, pointing to a patch of bright, colorful blooms. “Your mama planted those. She’s got a green thumb, that’s for sure.”

Sarah gurgled in response, her wide eyes taking in the vibrant colors and the fluttering butterflies. Joel laughed, a deep, hearty sound that echoed through the garden.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he said, bouncing her gently on his knee. “There’s so much beauty in this world, little one. So much for you to see and discover.”

He felt a deep sense of gratitude in that moment gratitude for the life he had, for the family he loved so fiercely. He thought back to the days before Sarah was born, when he and Y/N had dreamed about what their life would be like as parents. Now, living that dream, he realized it was even more beautiful and challenging than they had imagined.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the garden, Joel carried Sarah back inside. Y/N was in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and she smiled as they walked in.

“Did you two have a good time outside?” she asked, setting down a pot on the stove.

“Yeah, she loved it,” Joel replied, smiling. “She’s fascinated by the flowers.”

Y/N chuckled. “Just like her mama.”

Dinner was a cozy affair, the soft clinking of cutlery and the gentle hum of conversation filling the room. Sarah, now content and sleepy, rested in a bouncer by the table, her eyes growing heavy as she watched her parents.

After dinner, Joel and Y/N worked together to clean up, sharing quiet laughs and stolen kisses. With the kitchen tidy, they turned their attention to getting Sarah ready for bed. Joel ran a warm bath while Y/N gathered Sarah’s pajamas and a fresh diaper.

Sarah cooed happily as Joel gently bathed her, his large hands surprisingly tender as he washed her tiny body. Y/N stood by, watching with a smile as Joel wrapped Sarah in a soft towel, lifting her out of the bath and into his arms.

In the nursery, they dressed Sarah in her pajamas, the soft fabric enveloping her in warmth and comfort. Y/N rocked her gently in the chair, humming a lullaby as Joel stood beside them, his hand resting on Y/N’s shoulder. Sarah’s eyes fluttered closed, and she drifted off to sleep, safe and secure in her mother’s arms.

Joel and Y/N carefully laid Sarah down in her crib, tucking her in with a light blanket. They stood there for a moment, watching her sleep, the room filled with a sense of peace and fulfillment.

“Ready for some grown-up time?” Joel whispered, a twinkle in his eye.

Y/N nodded, smiling. “Absolutely.”

They made their way to the living room, where Joel retrieved a bottle of wine from the kitchen and two glasses. Y/N grabbed a cozy blanket and draped it over the couch, creating a little nest for them. They settled in, clinking their glasses together in a quiet toast.

“To us,” Joel said softly. “And to our beautiful family.”

“To us,” Y/N echoed, taking a sip of the wine. It was rich and full-bodied, the perfect accompaniment to their evening.

They turned on their favorite show, the familiar characters and storyline providing a comforting backdrop to their quiet time together. As the episodes played, they talked and laughed, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

As the night wore on, the wine bottle emptied, and the warmth of the evening settled around them. Y/N leaned her head on Joel’s shoulder, her eyes growing heavy. Joel wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close.

“I love you, Joel,” Y/N murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

“I love you too, darlin’,” Joel replied, kissing the top of her head. “Always.”

With the soothing sounds of their show in the background, they both drifted off to sleep on the couch, wrapped in each other’s embrace. The night outside was quiet, the stars twinkling in the sky, a testament to the peaceful contentment that filled their home.

In the morning, they would wake to the sound of Sarah’s cries, ready to start another day as a family. But for now, they were together, wrapped in love and warmth, dreaming of the beautiful future that lay ahead.

[targaryenluvs]

SEE YOU AGAIN

pairings: robb stark x fem!targaryen!reader, platonic!stark family x reader

warnings: none!

a/n: i had only two drafts and this was one of them!! might just get back into got/hotd writing! god this was written a while ago

Within an hour you wound up being introduced to the entire Stark family. You especially liked Ayra, she reminded you of Rhaenyra in certain aspects such as her rebellious behaviour. Although you did have to cover your head with a scarf for the most part, your violet eyes were quite hard to miss. You chalked it up to a birth defect and were introduced as a maiden of the Red Keep, returning home for marriage but also a friend of the Eldest three children.

You yourself had never visited the North before, as your parents had deemed it unworthy of being visited by a Princess. But you found yourself growing fond of the place despite its cold nature.

You had also found Nyraxes huddled in front of a bonfire in a near by cave. Surprisingly she hadn’t torched the entire area and it’s inhabitants. You had wondered how the Starks had managed to tame a dragon.

But at the moment you were more concerned about getting home. As nice as it was to be in the area, you found yourself surprisingly longing for the Red Keep. Currently you found yourself dining with the family, the food seemed foreign, scarcely containing any notable fruit or vegetables but Jon had explained the lack of crop in such harsh times, which you understood. You felt uncomfortable, out of place.

Everyone chatted so freely, everyone knew each other where as you were an outsider in every way. Your gorgeous purple eyes in contrast to the ever so common brown and black, bright, striking silver hair which was no longer covered, compared to red and brown.

“Y/n, who are you marrying my dear?” Catelyn questioned you as the entire table diverted their gaze to you. Your face became hot, especially under Robb’s sharp gaze. “Yes Y/n, who are you betrothed to?” You felt like ripping him a new one, perhaps feeding him to Nyra.

“I’ve returned home for my parents, we’re heading up to Casterly Rock for the wedding, he’s a lord but I doubt you would know of him your grace.” Laughs bellowed out around you, Robb loudest of all.

“Your grace?” Robb cried out. “Hush you all. She has decorum and respect unlike most, why mock her for it? My dear, please, call me Catelyn.”

You nodded.

Ed and Catelyn still didn’t know of your real name, nor your lineage/descent. That much they may have been able to get their heads around but you weren’t so sure they would have opened up their castle to you quite so swiftly if they knew of the, as most royals and small folk would claim, “Beast” in the caves.

You sat at your windowsill looking out onto the courtyard as a someone knocked on your door. “You alright if I come in love?” You allowed him in. “Not the view your used to?” You nodded, “I wish to go home Robb. But if what you say is true how can I? All the Targaryens are gone. My Aemond, ended up dead in battle Above the Gods Eye along with my Uncle Daemon. Aegon, Helaena, Her children, Otto, Rhaenyra, Nyra, Jace, Luke everyone. In the history books and life I am forever known as the Princess who Hid. A coward.” You cried as he sat down and hugged you.

As he soothed you Robb slowly raised you face to him, as he wiped away your tears. “Not everyone.” Your head shot up, “What?” You croaked, “I didn’t finish the book my love. Aenys the mad King has two surviving children. Daenerys and Viserys. Although Viserys passed away a long time ago.”

“A-and Daenerys?” “Alive, and well as it seems. She’s been wed to Khal Drogo seemingly pregnant too as it seems.” Robb swiped a stray hair behind your ear as he leaned in, so did you.

-

You woke up the next morning after Robb as his side of the bed was seemingly empty. You prayed to the old gods and new that no one had heard the two of you yesterday. And if they did that they wouldn’t mention anything it. Everyone had broke their fast earlier on in the day as you had slept longer than usual. You weren’t use to having such lengthy nights of rest but were more than grateful.

After dressing you walked the halls with Arya for a bit before making your way to the courtyard where everyone seemed to have gathered for something, it wasn’t long before Sansa pulled you in front of all the people where the reason for the spectacle (rather reasons) came into view.

Robb was laughing loudly before Jon attacked, blade in hand. Robb swiftly moved to the side away from Jon and used his blade to propel Jon forwards again. As Jon fell Robb raised his sword to his neck.

“And you’re dead.”

Jon laughed, “Perhaps you should become a knight brother.”

They’re laughter stopped as you stepped out, fully dressed in your old clothes and determined. “I take it you’re planning on leaving now?” You smiled and nodded, “I appreciate your hospitality Robb, Jon. But if I do have surviving family than I must go to them. Thank you, truly.” You spoke as you walked past them, as much as you wished to stay longer you knew you’re descendants needed your help.

So as you mounted your Nyraxes, you couldn’t help but look back at him.

Maybe, you’d see him again.

[brainbuffering]

I see many able-bodied people and non-photosensitive people confused as to why the Epilepsy Community on Tumblr refer to the Spider-verse Franchise as being inherently ableist. I can understand that if you are not familiar with the term, you may find this disconcerting. The film is not actively saying that disabled people are bad, nor do I think that they are making an active decision to harm disabled people. I do not think that they are making a film with the deliberate purpose of killing disabled people! 

However, the active choices they make (e.g. not adhering to the rule that states that a flash rate of 3 - 30 per second is dangerous, and to avoid high contrasting patterns) are those which mean that Photosensitive People are barred from seeing the movie. This is a form of social discrimination. No, please, hear me out! 

Scope, a leading charity for disabled people defines ableism as: 

"A word for unfairly favouring non-disabled people. Ableism means prioritising the needs of non-disabled people. In an ableist society, it's assumed that the “normal” way to live is as a non-disabled person. It is ableist to believe that non-disabled people are more valuable to society than disabled people."

This is what the creators do. They unfairly assume that disabled people will have no interest in watching their film. They unfairly assume that the public will all pass on through word of mouth that the film is dangerous to watch for photosensitive people. It unfairly assumes that, because the majority of its audience will be safe watching it, those who are not safe do not matter as viewers or as people. It unfairly assumes that there Afro-latine People, Black People, Latine People, Jewish People, Women – the minorities the film chooses to represent – are all able-bodied and that if there do happen to be any people within those demographics that are also photosensitive, then they have no interest to see other parts of themselves represented on the screen in the same way. 

Disabled people already feel incredibly isolated by society. People, especially children, with epilepsy are often barred from social events. They cannot attend nightclubs, concerts, sleepovers, school trips, long haul holidays and so on. On bright sunny days, my incredibly Photosensitive Mother cannot even drive the car because the flashes of sunlight between the leaves of trees will give her a migraine that will take days to recover from. 

Therefore, when a company knows full well that their film is going to be talked about amongst the general public, that it is going to be a moment of cultural importance, to make a series of creative choices that knowingly bar disabled people from having this experience is a form of ableism. 

Ableism is not always obvious. In fact, it usually is not. Why? Because ableism is focused on leaving disabled people at home. It is focused on pushing us to the side, and making sure we are never heard from again. And in this case, it does take this to the extreme. Exposure to this film can indeed cause a Photosensitive person to die. This is not an exaggeration. 

3000 people a year die in the USA from epileptic seizures. 

And as I have said before, this is not a case of us asking to be allowed to sit at the table. We are not asking for them to introduce an epileptic spider person! We are simply asking to not be shot at if we try to enter the room, and asking that you please listen to us when we explain that pointing a loaded gun at a disabled person who tries to interact with you, is, in actual fact, quite an ableist thing to do.

[bloodycassian]

Enemy Lines - Reader x Azriel - reader is caught by the Autumn Court and Azriel saves her.

TW - themes of torture/death, gruesome violence, damsel in distress reader, savior Azriel

“I don’t want her going alone.” Azriel’s words were clipped towards his high lord. It seemed that the other part of Rhysand, his brother, would be unavailable for this matter. Azriel wasn’t sure if he blamed him. 

“I understand your bond is new, but this is essential, Azriel.” He said calmly, hardly looking up from the maps atop the table. 

He couldn’t help the way his lips pulled back in disgust. “So send Feyre, then.” He shot back, unable to contain the words. Rhys stilled, then finally, finally looked at Azriel. 

Pity coasted his features, then hardened back into that mask of the high lord. “Feyre does not have the same gifts. It would defeat the purpose-”

“Send me, send anyone else. Rhys this is a death sentence!” 

“Have faith in your mate, Azriel. She is talented, and smarter than you give her credit for.” His dismissal was not angry, nor was it painted with that pitying look he’d shown before. To his credit, he revealed no sign of budging on the matter, even while one of the few that could challenge him and survive raged at him.

Azriel saw the conversation going nowhere, and stormed from the room.

+

The robes were uncomfortable. You sighed and adjusted your position in the saddle again, wishing to the Mother you’d picked a different disguise for this role. The priestess uniform had made you look utterly delectable though, so there was no complaining there. Not as Azriel had whispered filthy things to you while he flew you to the closest stable where he was sure there were no Autumn cout guards or spies lingering. 

You bought the cheapest horse they had, and it’d been a mistake. 

The mare threw her head and nearly reared each time Azriel got within a few yards of her. It made the journey much longer without your mate at your side. You’d planned to at least say goodbye to him before you got to the Autumn border, but with such a fussy mare, it seemed that it wouldn’t happen. 

So as the humidity and heat started to peak, you waved behind you, to the darkening sky where you knew Azriel watched from afar. 

+

You had four days to get as much information as you could on Beron’s plans. He’d recently began acquiring more and more ships along his shoreline, and it’d caused a stir. Skiffs, warships and cargo boats clotted his waterways as you rode up the bridge to the bunker castle, nestled into the leaf littered ground. 

Your pale robes stood out in bright contrast against all the red, orange and brown shades of this place. Guards closed in from the trees once you crossed, meeting you at the outer gates of the castle. Two males stood in front, spears sharp and at the ready. 

“State your business.” One commanded. 

The glamour over your face was essential now, and you made sure it did not slip as you spoke.

“The Mother sends you a Priestess, and you meet her with violence?” You called back.

Your heart quickened as you stepped down from the horse, a vulnerable time of dismount would be the perfect moment to kill. They could take it as a threat, and be justified in their murder.

“I am Vivienne, of the Kallos Sea. I understand your previous priestess has…” You paused for effect, knowing that she was on a very long sailing back to Valhallan. “Abandoned her duties.” 

“How could you-” The leader began, but was interrupted by the enormous stone doors opening. 

“Welcome, priestess.” Eris Vanserra welcomed you, waving you forward.

+

“I understand that the temple in Valhallan has been undergoing restructuring. Much overdo, in my opinion.``You hummed in agreement, made absent comments while you searched the walls and doors for any hint at where Beron’s office may be. Eris made kind smalltalk while he showed you to your room. The male was charming, but revealed nothing about the influx of ships when you hinted towards it.

Remnants of the missing priestess still lay about. The candles, gems and potions lined the shelves on the walls. Personal artifacts had been cleared, and you hoped the female wasn’t fond of the items left behind. Azriel was only able to capture her because her journey to the nearest temple had taken her out of sight of the court’s many guard stations. 

“My lady?” Eris prompted, his forehead pinched. He’d been speaking. You cursed yourself, you feigned sadness, and placed a hand upon your chest. “I apologize my lord, it has been.. Distressing to say the least. With Liasia disappearing it is… unsettling.” You fanned your face, making sure that the false tears showed. 

“You’re safe here.” Eris assured, with a squeeze to your shoulder. His hand left behind a tingling, heated sensation on your skin. A reminder of what he was? What power he possessed? He looked at you, his golden gaze darkening. “Just be sure you have someone with you if you exit the manor.” 

You batted your eyes at him, playing the part of seductive priestess well. “I’d ask for you if I did, prince.” 

That got him to smile. “Please do. I’d be more than happy to show you my court.” 

A new idea sparked in your mind. Perhaps you wouldn’t need to make this a rushed, blind mission. If Eris was as paliape as he seemed to be for you, perhaps he’d give you the information willingly. 

His gaze lingered on you, even as he bid you goodnight.

+

The rotting scent only seemed extreme when your torturers came and went. The fresh air they brought with them a curse more than a relief. All around the Autumn dungeons seemed to reek and ooze with the smell of decay and half eaten things. A bucket of rats in the corner, long dead was swarmed with maggots. The trays of food you’d not eaten had been thrown against the walls, food for more scurrying things to feast upon.

Eris did none of the torturing himself. He did watch though, and questioned while a hooded and masked male did the carving. You had two fingernails left, from what you’d been able to see through your swollen eyes. They’d had some kind of powder, an itching, burning thing that they used when they’d gotten sick of the blood. 

But you hadn’t broken. The glamour was still in place, and you’d die before implicating your court. 

“You smell of snow and wind and rivers. Not of the Ocean, Vivenne.” Eris had whispered, so close you could feel his hot breath on your ear. “There is no reconstruction the Mother’s Temple. The Valhallan sages think it to be distasteful.” He said smugly. 

Though you cursed yourself for falling to such a trap, you worried more for Azriel, who by your estimation would be arriving in less than a day for your rescue.

“Perhaps you don’t know all that you think you do, Prince.” You strained for the words, little more than a whisper.

+

The hours were grinding on Azriel’s nerves. He had gotten the sense that something was wrong days ago, but he refused to act. The bond had remained quiet, diluted almost from the Glamour. He did not enjoy being so blinded from you. Without the mental link, he felt lost, like a ship without course. 

Night fell, and he decided he could no longer wait. He did not warn Rhys or Cassian, because he know - deep in his bones - that something was wrong. Something more than just his mate being late to their meeting point. Something had gone wrong. 

So, with a running start, he flew through the Autumn Court borders and vowed to the Mother he’d find you or die trying. 

+

The pain was less than a pinch, each time they drew your blood. The blades and odd things they used were nothing, compared to the poisoned prods they’d put in your back. Fire rippled through you with every breath, with every heartbeat that dragged the poison through you. 

Your eyes no longer wept from the throbbing, your voice was gone from the screaming. You held on faintly, to the glimmering bond deep inside your mind - your soul. The thick rope that seemed to be vibrating, warm and welcoming to your presence held you together. It was Azriel. It had to be, because if it wasn’t then what was the point of holding on any longer? 

You could feel something like peace embrace you, every time you’d pass out. Darkness greeted you with open arms, enticing you to fall into the shapeless pit. But that cord, that part of you that loved Azriel more than it feared the pain… it was stronger. It helped you stay, to remain in this world for a few more hours. Days? How long had it been since Eris’ guards had ambushed you? 

The question brought forth the violence of consciousness. The males before you came into focus again, and you body tensed. The fire along your back heightened, earning a broken sob from your chest. 

“Tell me where you’re from, who you’re with, and this can be over.” Eris promised, his voice like honey in the darkness. And Mother above it was tempting. So incredibly tempting to allow the words to come out. The answer to what he wanted was only a few syllables. You could feel your hold on the Glamour beginning to shake. 

There was a thudding sound, far above the prison cell. Dirt shifted and rained down from the ceiling above. An earthquake, hopefully - that would rid you of this pain faster than you’d hope. 

Eris flicked a hand, and two of the guards left the room. When the door opened, revealing silvered moonlight from the windows in the hall, it also made that decaying scent swirl and vacate the room for a moment.

And when you’d normally cringe, and attempt to hold your breath, this fresh air was different. It was cold. Downright freezing, in fact. The guards hesitated outside the door, and the screaming began.

+

“Where is she.” Azriel’s voice was not his own. It was a growl, a demand and promise of wrath if the boy did not answer his question. The redhead stammered, and clawed at the shadowsinger’s hands, his eyes wide and horrified at what he saw before him.

He let the boy drop. It’d be more likely a guard would know. Azriel was having a hard time getting to the logic of things though, when he sensed the pain his mate was in. When he knew he’d been right all along, and Rhys should have listened.

The compiled rage leaked from him like a poison. Every guard who got close enough fainted or died on the spot from the intensity of the shadows, the nightmares they saw there. He reigned them in, his surroundings coming into focus. He took a breath, and it was as if his senses were heightened in this state. 

There was a male hiding behind the next corner, beside a barrel of wine and stores of bread. Azriel was there in an instant, his shadows taking him so easily, like liquid from one space to the other. 

“Where is she?” He said the words calmly, but they still came out through his teeth. 

“W-who-”

“The priestess!” Azriel’s blade was at the male’s neck in the next heartbeat. There wouldn’t be survivors here, not tonight. 

“The cells are down the next hall, the door on the left with the lock. The Prince is there as well-” With the teary confession, Azriel threw the male against the wall, flecks of bone chasing his shadows as he winnowed to the end of the hall. 

+

The screams were growing louder, more frantic before ending abruptly. Eris flicked a hand again, and all the devices and pain actively hurting you disappeared. The torturer included. Had he been a figment the entire time? More shouts echoed through the halls. 

A smile curled your lip, stretching the skin to the point of pain. Then, you couldn’t help but laugh. As much as you could anyway, it came out more like bitter coughs. 

Eris was moving then, a swift backhand had you spitting up blood between laughs. He unhooked your legs, then your arms. He held you up by the waist, then decided better and let you fall to the ground. Your body sparked in pain, protesting at every movement. Something cold pressed to your neck, and you closed your eyes, blood tipping back in your throat. 

The cold air flowing into the room stopped all together, and the silvery light of the moon faded. Your heart thundered, every joint in your body throbbing in time with it. Pain sang through you, a symphony of aches and split scabs being torn apart.

The guards at the door shuffled, holding their weapons at the ready, then abruptly fell to their knees. There was no sound, other than the clang of their weapons against the stone. 

Azriel appeared in the doorway like a god, wrathful and wielding his power like a part of himself. Your tears stung your wounds as they fell. You mouthed his name, unable to make the word out around the knot in your throat. 

“Not another step, Shadowsinger.” The knife at your throat pinched, and warmth flowed down your chest. 

Azriel straightened, his jaw flexing. “What about her?” Azriel held up a hand, and a red haired female appeared, a gag in her mouth and tears in her eyes. You recognized her as the Beron’s wife, the Lady of Autumn. Eris’s knife relaxed at your throat, and his other no longer held you in place. Your body sagged, threatening to fall without the support of his other hand at your shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t. She’s done nothing.” Eris spat, and a cruel smile played at Azriel’s lips. Truth teller laid a streak of blood upon the Lady’s high cheekbone, carving down, down, down-

“Enough!” Eris was shaking, you could feel it reverberating through his legs. 

“Let her go.” Azriel’s eyes darted to yours, and he blinked quickly. “Release her Eris, or I’ll be sure she regrets ever birthing you.” 

“I’m certain she already does.” Eris muttered, shame weighing his voice. He nudged you forward, and you nearly fell face first to the floor but Azriel was there - and you were gone. Cool shadows embracing you, circling you like a cat. 

“What did they do- what hurts the most?” Azriel was asking before he’d even stepped from his shadows. You landed together in damp leaves, the moon’s light making you squint. 

His hands shook as they grazed over your tattered clothes. His mind warring with revenge and healing. The glamour on your face was rippling and changing, shifting between the face he loved and the one of a stranger. But your scent. He inhaled deeply, greedily, even though it was tainted with blood and something darker, more sinister beneath the surface. It was still you. Still his mate.

“Missed you.” You breathed, smiling at him through swollen lips. His heart ached, his stomach threatened to spill out right there on the decaying autumn ground. 

He tore off his top layer of leather, covering your shoulders with it. The siphons attached dulled but didn’t darken. He used parts of that glowing power to patch up the larger wounds he could see in the shadowy moonlight. Relief flooded him when that glamour finally shifted, and fell. Your face was a bloodied mess but he kissed you on the forehead anyway, as gentle as he could.

 He felt weak, so very tired and weak after the encounter. Fatigue pulled on him, even as the night air bit at his exposed arms once he took off into the sky. 

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, seventy-four

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: Well, babes, this is it. The final effing chapter of IDWTW. When I started writing this, almost exactly four years ago (chapter 1 posted on may 29, 2020!), I had no idea what it would become. I thought it was going to be vv casual prompt-based high school pining vignettes, simply to rewrite my own version of Dawson’s Creek – if you’ve ever wondered why it was called IDWTW, that’s why! It was a temp title that stuck! – but 375k+ words later… it’s become so much more. And that is because of YOU. Whether you have been here since 2020 or you joined along the way or you're finding this years after the face, I am infinitely grateful. I don’t know that I would have been able to pull through the last few years without your kindness and enthusiasm for these two idiots (and their friends and fam). I have loved telling this story, but mostly, I’m grateful that this journey introduced me to so many incredible humans and created a community of babes I will hold near and dear to my heart for literally ever (it’s true, I loved one of you so much that I drove across the country to meet her, and in a few short months she will be my WIFE!). This story brought so much good into my life, and I am hella proud to finally conclude it. From the incredible creators who made fanart, to the essays of comments on each chapter, to the back and forth of discussing consent, sexuality, and reproductive rights in my inbox, every gif, comment, reblog, message, ask, and interaction of any kind has been a joy. Thank you.

With all of that said, let’s wrap this mother up.

A soft glowing circle lit up the black beneath Aelin’s feet. Her stomach tightened as she rested on one leg and hitched to the side in a slow exhale. Her breath centered her as she pulled her pointed toes up her calf until it extended into a slow and steady develope. Just as she had barely met the apex of her leg’s vertical reach, she exhaled again and twirled to the floor. The music cascaded over her as she continued to move, her muscles moving on autopilot into seamless choreography. She had beaten out several far more senior company members for this solo and had practiced it so many times that it lived within her, sure to remain there for the rest of time.  With each of her graceful steps, the spotlight followed her and swathed her in its golden column, as if she were being beamed up into the sky above. With how much lift she got in her leaps, she felt like she was, too. Finally, the bass came in signaling the end of her solo and for the rest of the company to join her on stage, but even as the spot widened until it cast a bright haze across the floor, the floor remained empty.

Confused, she looked into the wings, but all she saw was blackness, not even the barely there violet glow of the stage manager’s lamp. She was grateful for her muscle memory, as her limbs continued their practiced movements as her brain whirled in confusion and panic. She was mid-twirl when the music came to an abrupt stop, and she had to put her entire energy into not tumbling over her own foot. When she finally regained her balance, she looked up and around in confusion. The audience, which she’d thought was packed, was emptied out, only one solitary figure remained. Even barely lit and in silhouette, Aelin would recognize her mother’s haughty posture and signature bouffant. Her slow, delicate clap was a stark contrast to the thrumming pulse of Aelin’s heart pounding against her rib cage.

“Mom?” she breathed, barely a whisper but it still echoed through the empty theater.

“A child bride,” Evalin replied with disgust.

Aelin’s brow shot up. “H-how did you—?”

Evalin cut her off. “You thought you could steal my wedding dress from my closet, and I wouldn’t know about it?”

Aelin looked down in confusion, but sure enough, her recital clothes had transformed into the ivory strapless column sheath she used to admire as a small girl. Rhoe had kept their wedding photo in his bedroom long after Evalin left, only removing the photo when a young Aelin commented with a wistful sigh that she’d never seen Rhoe smile the way he did in the black and white snapshot. The dress was stunning in its simplicity, all clean lines and structured satin.

Her hands pressed against the fabric, as if knowing this wasn’t right, but unsure of the how or why. A soft tinkling laugh drifted across the room, and Aelin’s eyes darted to the noise, hopeful that someone had come to save her from this bizarre encounter and nearly collapsed in relief when Rowan’s shock of icy hair appeared in the doorway.

He looked as handsome as ever in his lacrosse jersey, a wide grin on his face and a giant trophy in his hands. Her smile matched his, realizing that he must have come here straight from his championship. Winning his championship.

“Rowan!” she called out, but he didn’t look up. Instead, he offered his free arm to the source of the tinkling laughter. A beautiful woman accepted his bicep and wrapped both her manicured hands around his forearm possessively. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the top of her head in a gesture so familiar that it physically hurt Aelin to watch. “Rowan?” she called out again, this time much quieter.

Evalin’s cruel bark of laughter was the only response she received. “You offered him everything, and it still wasn’t enough. You’ll never leave this small town. You really are your father’s daughter.”

“No,” Aelin told her mom emphatically. “NO!”

“Yes,” she said simply.

“NO!” Aelin screamed again as unwitting tears streamed down her cheeks, hot under the persisting spotlight. “R-rowan!” she choked out, but he couldn’t hear her, too enraptured by the woman in his arms, eyes — and ears, apparently — only for her. “Rowan!” she sobbed. She went to leap off the stage, but she was caught mid-air, her back hitting something with such a force that it knocked the wind of her.

“Ace?” Rowan’s voice was in her ear, his hand rubbing at her back as she gasped for air. She cracked her eyes open and sagged as she realized that she was safely wrapped in Rowan’s firm embrace. “Whoa, you’re okay.” His voice was a reassuring balm to her heart, which felt bloody and bruised.

“I’m okay,” she forced out, though it came out so shaky that Rowan pulled back to peer into her eyes. She wanted to avert her gaze, hopeful that he wouldn’t be able to see the panic that was still coursing through her body, but the dark green of his irises calmed her, so she stared and focused and thought of things that reminded her of the deep shade of Rowan’s eyes. Emeralds. Yulemas garlands. The long row of lockers in their gym room. Grass and trees in the setting summer sun. The jade plant that Maeve claimed brought her good luck that sat on her kitchen counter. Moss. Green tea leaves. The fake snake he’d placed in her bed every prank week. That knocked her out of her tranquil stupor, and she couldn’t help but frown at him.

“Yeah, you’re okay,” he said, but continued to rub circles into the tense space between her shoulder blades. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Aelin shrugged. “It was weird.” She paused for a long while, trying to think of how to tell him about it. “My dance showcase went off the rails?”

Her admission had its intended effect. He squeezed her tightly and kissed the soft spot of skin behind her ear. “Well, that’s silly, brain,” he said, letting his kisses trail up to the side of her temple. “You already crushed your showcase.”

She grinned in response. It was true. She had crushed the showcase, and Rowan had been there just as she’d dreamed in his jersey and trophy in hand. They’d gone into double overtime, and he’d barely made it to her opening solo. With seconds to spare, he’d slid into a seat in the front row, so she’d be sure to see him cheering her on. But she’d known it the whole time. She could feel his gaze on her as she twirled across the stage. The end of that performance had been, well… not the same as her brain had rewritten it. But, Rowan was right. Her brain was being silly.

“Maybe it’s just acting out because someone kept me up all night,” she said, loving the way that Rowan’s ears still turned pink.

“It’s not my fault,” Rowan said, but his blush said otherwise.

“Sure it’s not,” she said with a lascivious smile.

To celebrate their final week of high school, Aelin and Rowan had planned a movie marathon on Maeve’s rooftop. It included a trifecta of essential graduation movies: Can’t Hardly Wait, Booksmart, and Grease. But what she hadn’t realized was that Rowan wouldn’t be able to help himself from singing along. And he knew what his singing voice did to Aelin’s libido. She couldn’t help herself. Somewhere in the middle of Greased Lightning, the movies were all but forgotten as the pair tangled themselves in each other.

Stretching his limbs to the sky, Rowan looked like a literal god. The early morning sun cast a glow across his stern brow and strong nose, making him look as chiseled as a marble statue.

“If you keep that up, I’m taking you right back to bed,” he said of her lusty gaze and hooded eyes. He poked her side, eliciting a loud squeal.

“Whatever,” she laughed. “It’s not like we have anywhere to be today.”

It was true. Today was the last Monday of the year. AKA, senior skip day. And she’d purposefully not committed to joining anyone’s plans, so she and Rowan could extend their marathon if they wanted to – she also had High School Musical 3, She’s All That, and Dazed & Confused lined up — or just laze around all day. But they had time. Considering where the sun was, it was still very, very early. She imagined Maeve would be in the midst of morning service and briefly considered heading downstairs to grab them some coffee and croissants, but instead she laid back onto the mattress and fluffed a pillow beneath her head. Rowan followed, nuzzling onto her chest. She stroked his hair, not wanting to separate herself from him with the tendrils of her dream still lingering in her consciousness.

“Last week of senior year,” he said. “In three days we’ll be high school graduates. How do you feel?”

“Terrified,” Aelin said, the word blurting out before she could filter it back. Damn that coffee-free brain.

She could feel Rowan tense slightly, but he let her early morning admission slide, and she was grateful for it. “Mm, me too,” he agreed. “The lacrosse boys signed up to do a car wash for community service day, and I’m worried I’m going to see things I can’t unsee,” he said with a shudder.

Aelin couldn’t help but snort. While today was a skip day, tomorrow was a service day. Each senior had to do some sort of community service in order to graduate. Ridiculous. Not like they hadn’t all passed their classes already. She supposed the sentiment was nice, but as someone who’d been volunteering with the hospital for the last two years, it felt a bit shallow. Unauthentic. Forced, if you will. And the athletic teams always used it as an excuse to strip down to their skivvies and wash horny housewives’ cars for an exorbitant amount of money. At least it was better than the Boy Toy auction Lorcan had told them they’d finally outlawed because of the gross raunch factor.

“Just tell them to use a sponge and that their junk isn’t for rubbing against dirty cars,” Aelin advised. Rowan groaned loudly.

“Great, now I can never close my eyes again,” he whined.

“Are the cheerleaders also doing the car wash?” Aelin asked, definitely not thinking about her dream at all. But Rowan was definitely not going to let that comment slide. His head popped up, and she found herself ensconced in his shadow as he peered down at her with an accusatory glare.

“I think a few of them are,” he said. “But… you remember that I’m about to marry you, right?”

“A lot of married people cheat, Rowan,” she said, pushing him off. She hadn’t meant to be so pouty about it, but she couldn’t get the image of his arms wrapped around that dream woman out of her mind.

Rowan looked rightfully hurt, the corners of his mouth turned down and his brow furrowed as he stared her down. “You cannot be serious.” He knocked at her temple. “This has gone beyond your brain being silly. We are so many years beyond this. Do you have amnesia?” He knocked again. “Helloooo, Aelin, are you in there? Have you been possessed by the ghost of your past self?”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, pushing his hand away, but he persisted.

“No,” he said, pulling his pants from last night on. He searched for his shirt briefly, but unable to find it, he simply turned toward Aelin in stoic silence, arms crossed over his bare chest and face looking discontent. “I’m not going to let you say shit like that, Ace. That’s…” He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. To be fair, she was exasperating. “That’s hurtful. To me. I know you’re scared about the future, but I thought we established that I’m in this with you.”

Aelin scrambled to her feet. “We did.”

“So…?”

He stood there, tapping his fingers against his bicep which was curled protectively around his torso still. Not letting her in. Waiting.

But she couldn’t explain it to him. That lingering nagging feeling of insecurity and worry and failure. So instead, she apologized. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was good enough for now.

. . .

Instead of spending senior ditch day in bed, Aelin and Rowan joined their friends for a never ending picnic day in the park. Which wasn’t exactly what Aelin had wanted, but she had a feeling that she needed to loosen the reins on her panic, lest she piss him off even more. She had a feeling that maybe she’d loosened things too much, though, when she realized midway through her community service day that she hadn’t heard from Rowan in hours. She’d been helping the hospice section of the hospital, which was designated for those who needed round the clock medical care. Their rooms varied from being fully decked out with medical equipment and monitors to the one she was in, which simply had a low bed, a tv, and a chair. Not a monitor in sight. Had she not known the woman needed constant care and surveillance each time she rose from her chair to go to the bathroom, she would have thought she was in someone’s grandmother’s house. As the woman made her tenth trip to the bathroom, Aelin took out her phone. Just to peek. There was no text from Rowan, btu there was one from Dorian. It was a link to a TikTok with the side eye emoji, and she clicked it quickly.

She watched as washboard abs and pecs were drenched with soapy suds as they washed dirt-ridden cars. She bit her lip as Rowan came into view, his muscles rippling as he reached across the hood, his biceps flexing and unflexing with each wipe.

“Mmmmm,” Aelin’s elderly patient hummed appreciatively over her shoulder as she exited the bathroom and spotted the phone screen. She scrambled to put it back in her pocket, but her patient simply chuckled dryly as she snatched the phone into her wiry grasp. “A friend of yours?” she asked curiously, peering up from the screen where the video was replaying.

“Boyfriend,” Aelin admitted, her cheeks burning.

“Lucky girl,” the woman giggled, her hazel eyes alight with joy as she handed the phone back to Aelin where it made its way back into her pocket quickly. “What are you doing spending your time here with an old fuddy-duddy like me?” Aelin was about to protest, but the woman continued. “What’s his name?”

“Rowan,” she finally said as the woman wrapped herself in a thin blanket and tucked herself into her favorite upholstered rocking chair.

“Rowan,” she repeated back. “That’s a good name. A strong name. A reliable name.”

Aelin frowned. “Reliable?”

“Well, isn’t he?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Sturdy,” the woman continued. “In more ways than one. I can tell.”

Aelin gasped, chastising the woman for her forwardness but she simply laughed it off.

“You’re right,” she whispered, as if she were letting her in on a big secret.

“Go, get out of here,” the woman laughed.

“But I still have two more hours?” Aelin said of her unsigned sheet of volunteer paper, but the woman simply shook her head and beckoned for Aelin to come closer.

“I appreciate your service,” she rasped, “But I just want to nap, and it’d be a shame for you to watch me sleep for two hours. You’ll have the rest of your life to work,” she said signing and dating Aelin’s paper for two hours in the future. “You can fuck around for a few hours.”

Aelin gasped again at the profanity, but smiled regardless.

“Thanks,” she said, but the woman had already nodded off in her chair.

. . .

“Droooooool,” Lysandra laughed as she poked Aelin’s side and pulled her out of her skin-induced stupor.

“I—”

“Were staring?” Lys cackled, following Aelin’s eyeline to where Rowan was clad only in his old red lifeguard shorts. The backs of his thighs were exposed, the hem of the shorts riding up as he leaned down to clean the back bumper of a particularly dirty sedan. Unlike his teammates who were filming each other and tossing sponges back and forth, Rowan was focused on the task at hand, making sure that the car he was working on was well-cleaned. “I hate to interrupt your literal wet dream,” she continued, “But, I wanted to invite you to a party.”

Aelin grabbed the paper from Lysandra’s hands and looked down at it.

“You’re having a party?” Aelin asked, surprised by the idea of her sober friend having the graduation rager she’d always wanted to throw.

“It’s gonna have booze,” Lys said, “But… I will not be partaking.” She cleared her throat. “I know that this year is not at all what I imagined, but I finally feel like I’m okay, and I would feel like shit if I didn’t throw the graduation party of the century.” She flicked her brown curls over her shoulder. “Just because I’m sober doesn’t mean I can’t party.”

“Certainly not,” Aelin agreed. She looked at her friend who’d been through the wringer and spit out again and had come out seemingly unscathed and couldn’t help but wonder… “Hey, Lys?” she asked before her friend could move to the next person. Lysandra looked up, eyes curious. “Do your parents know you’re having this party?”

If Lysandra was surprised by the question, she didn’t show it. Instead, she half shook her head and half shrugged. “No.”

“Should I be worried about that?” she asked, but to that, Lys gave a hard head shake.

“No.”

“But you haven’t reconciled with them?” Aelin didn’t know why she was asking these questions, but at the same time, the answers seemed all too important.

“It’s hard to reconcile with someone who doesn’t care,” Lysandra finally said. “But, I will say that I’ve let it go.” She cleared her throat. “The needing them to care.” She smiled then, a small curve but Aelin saw it regardless. “I wanted them to care for so long,” she admitted. “For too long, probably. So I acted out. A lot. Willing them to pay attention, at the very least. But you can’t will someone to care, even your parents,” she laughed softly. “And I’ve been through enough therapy now that I’m starting to realize that as much as that hurts, it’s okay.” She paused. “I don’t need them to care. Because I care enough for all of us. And I realized there are a lot of people out there who care, too.” She paused, looking at Aelin, as if trying to cut through the bullshit and tell Aelin exactly what she wanted to hear, and in that moment… she did. “Does that make sense?”

Aelin nodded. “It does.”

Lysandra tapped the paper in her hands. “Immediately after graduation, and we’ll go all night. Bring your bathing suit,” she said.

“Will do,” Aelin laughed, but she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to Lysandra’s words. Her friend had laid it out plainly for her. What she’d been afraid to admit all along. That she maybe really seriously actually needed to go to therapy. The wounds her mom had imparted on her psyche ran deeper than she knew how to deal with. If her dream was any indication, her mom still controlled some part of her identity, and she needed to release that. Because that had nothing to do with who she was as a human. Not at all.

After the dream, she had thought that maybe she needed to call her mom and let her hear her thoughts, but Lys was right in her assessment: it was impossible to control someone else’s feelings. Even your mom’s. Yes, she wanted her mom to love her and want the best for her, but truly, her mom barely knew her. All Evalin knew was propriety and etiquette and history. She didn’t know that her favorite color was green, like Rowan’s eyes. She didn’t know that her favorite food was Maeve’s chocolate cake. She didn’t know that she was thinking about a career in medicine and how much she loved helping people. And she certainly didn’t know that Aelin wanted at least five kids and to make sure that every single one of them felt loved and adored by both their parents. No. She couldn’t make Evalin care, or pay attention long enough to even try to care. And she had to let that go. It would take a lot of work, but she had to.

With that in mind, she called out Rowan’s name, followed by a whoop and a loud expletive. His answering blush and crooked finger, beckoning her to wrap herself in his half-naked embrace was all she needed to know that she’d been forgiven. But she knew she had to explain anyway. He let his teammates know that he would be back in a minute and let Aelin pull him away from the long line of cars still waiting to be washed.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, tilting her head upwards where he loomed over her. He softly kissed the top of her head, warming her even more than the mid-afternoon sun. “I could say I don’t what came over me yesterday, but… that’d be a lie,” Aelin continued.

He squeezed her side in response, not interrupting her but acknowledging that he was listening and waiting.

“Did you know that the morning of my sixteenth birthday I woke up and resolved that I would kiss you that year?” she asked, and he barked out a confused laugh.

“Um, what?”

“I was so determined to do it, too. And do you know why?” she asked as she let her hands trace small circles into the soft skin of his back.

“Because you knew you wanted to be with me forever and ever and that we’re perfect together and meant to be and we’re each other’s soul mates and other halves and one of us just needed to make a move?”

Aelin snorted loudly. “No,” she laughed, screwing up her face. “Not at all.”

Rowan’s forehead wrinkled as his brow transformed into a deep furrow. Clearly her words weren’t at all what he expected to hear. But, she knew she needed to get this out.

“When I thought about why I wanted to kiss you so badly, I realized that it was a test. If I kissed you and blew up our entire friendship, then I’d be right about everything I thought about myself. That you could never love me as much as I loved you. And so obviously you’d leave. Because everyone leaves.”

Rowan’s grasp tightened around her waist, locking her against his chest. “But I’m still here.”

“You are.” She paused, finally letting the words come to the surface. “I think…” She shook her head. That wasn’t the right start at all. “I know… that my mom deeply screwed me up.” She took another deep breath. “And watching you get recruited and this whole college limbo thing has made it so much worse. Because every day it feels like I’m just waiting for you to get up and realize that you’ve outgrown me. But you haven’t done anything to make me feel like that at all. And so, I’m really sorry. My issues are my own, and I’m going to work on them.”

“Thank you,” he said. “For the apology, and for letting me know what’s going on in there.” His fingers tucked under the hem of her shirt and matched the circles she was placing on his back. “I’ll try and remember all of that when you inevitably freak out again, but I look forward to proving you wrong every day for the rest of our lives. Because I’ve said it a few hundred times before, but I’ll keep saying it until you believe it: you’re stuck with me. Forever.”

“Forever,” she echoed back.

“Whitethorn,” a rough voice called out. “We need you back!”

In his absence, the line of cars had somehow grown impossibly longer. “Looks like you’ve got work to do,” she said, raising her brow.

“Will I see you later?” he asked, and Aelin couldn’t help but scoff.

“Oh, you thought I was leaving?” she laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to snag a prime spot for ogling and then maybe we can hop into the jeep when you’re finished.”

“Really?” he laughed. “Even smelling like sweat and sunscreen?”

“Ohhhhh yes,” she said, practically drooling as he let her hands climb up the ridges of his defined abs. “That’s even better.”

He responded with a deep kiss that set her body ablaze, tingling from head to toe, that was interrupted by more panicked calls from his teammates. After prying himself away, Aelin found a spot on a nearby bench, giving her the perfect view to fawn over half-naked and half-wet Rowan for the next few hours.

. . .

The next morning, Aelin was awoken much too early. She was pulled from her easy slumber with a dance remix of Pomp & Circumstance coming from her phone alarm. What the hell? As she slapped at the table next to her, attempting to turn off the too-loud music in vain, she felt her dad’s hand cover hers and lead it to the offending object.

“Congrats, graduate,” Rhoe’s warm voice lilted as he gently rubbed at her shoulder.

“Dadddd,” she groaned as she attempted to put her pillow over her head. Now that that music was off she could go back to sleep. Or so she thought. She should have known better than to play tug of war with a man who could bench press and carry three times her weight. Rhoe’s soft laughter was a stark contrast to the forceful way he wrenched the pillow away. She managed to keep it within her grasp, but Rhoe’s strength kept it locked at a significant distance from her face. She tried to pull it closer, but Rhoe wasn’t letting that happen. She guessed it was time to wake up, per Rhoe’s request.

Defeated, Aelin let her fingers drop from the pillow, and finally cracked an eye open. Behind her dad’s head was a swath of green and gold, and she focused she could see that nearly ever inch of the room had been filled with balloons.

“Happy last day of high school,” her dad said with a too-wide smile given the early hour. When she opened her other eye, his smile widened even further, showing off two deep dimples that she recognized from her own reflection.

“It’d be happier if I could sleep more,” Aelin grumbled, but it wasn’t with any real mirth. Hung on the outside of her closet door, Rhoe had steamed her deep emerald graduation robe.

“I have one more day left with my high school student, and I plan on making every second count,” Rhoe said, causing Aelin to smile in reply.

“Tyrant,” she laughed. But she was grateful.

After allowing her to get ready, the pair made their way to Maeve’s, where she’d saved a two top for them by the window. Within seconds of sitting, a large hazelnut coffee and platter of stuffed French toast and bacon appeared in front of her. Yes, being in a small town was sometimes annoying – but no matter where she and Rowan went in the world, she knew a plate of Maeve’s home cooking would be waiting for her when she came back.

She and Rhoe enjoyed a lazy brunch, ordering second and third cups of coffee.

“Fourth?” Rowan asked, coming around with the coffee pot.

“If I have any more coffee I’ll be peeing every twenty minutes for the rest of the day,” she laughed, shoving him away. Though he hadn’t been able to join them for their breakfast because he was helping train a new staff member for Maeve, he’d dropped a soft kiss on her cheek every time he’d passed by their table. Which. Was a perfect way to enjoy her day. They’d planned to have a celebratory brunch the four of them, since they’d all be going to Lysandra’s (family inclusive!) graduation party following their graduation ceremony, but having it just be Rhoe and Aelin felt right, too.  

“As if you don’t do that already,” Rhoe scoffed. “I’m half expecting you to hop off the graduation stage as soon as they hand you your degree to take a pee break.”

“Dad!” she said, cheeks blooming with redness. Yes, she had brought up peeing first, but she couldn’t believe her dad would talk about her like that in front of Rowan.

“Please,” Rowan laughed. “As if I don’t know about your tiny bladder.”

“You’re both the worst,” she grumbled. “Can we talk about something else besides my pee schedule?”

“Yes, I wanted to ask what you’re wearing under your gown today,” he said before his brain caught up to what he said. “Not in a sexy way!” he said, blush raging as Rhoe raised a pointed brow in his direction. It’d been a while since she saw Rowan look so flustered under Rhoe’s gaze, and she forgot how amusing it was. “So we can coordinate,” he finally said. “For photos.”

“Not in a sexy way,” Rhoe muttered to himself. Something akin to a wheeze came out of Rowan’s mouth as he tried to correct himself again, but Aelin thought it was time to put him out of his misery.

“You can wear whatever you want,” she said. “Because I’ll be wearing a white dress.”

Rowan’s widened eyes darted to Rhoe and then back to her, and she didn’t miss the way his throat bobbed with a nervous gulp.

“A white dress?” he croaked.

“Mhm,” she said. “So anything you wear will go with it.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Speaking of,” Rhoe said, clapping his hands loudly and breaking them from their joint reverie. “We should head out so you can start getting ready.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, knowing that her dad was teasing her about how long it took her to get ready, but as she glanced at the time she realized he wasn’t entirely wrong. They had been so caught up in their lengthy breakfast that it was now well after noon.

With a small kiss, she told Rowan she’d see him out on the lacrosse field in a few hours. Unfortunately, Galathynius and Whitethorn were annoyingly far apart in their grade lineup, so she wouldn’t see him for real until after the ceremony. But all he did was send her away with a smile and a kiss.

“Can’t wait,” he said.

. . .

Of course they were graduating on the hottest day of the year. Though the weather forecast had predicted partly sunny skies and balmy breezes, instead they received a cloudless sky, still and relentlessly hot beneath the beatific sun. The thick polyester robe in dark emerald green created a tent of heat around her, and she could feel every inch of her skin beading with sweat beneath it. She hoped when she took off the gown she still looked somewhat presentable, otherwise her hours of preparation would be for naught.

True to her dad’s prediction, Aelin had taken a while to get ready, shaving her legs thoroughly and straightening each strand of her long blonde locks. Of course, beneath her cap and combined with the thick humidity, her hair was beginning to show its natural wavy texture again. And she had a feeling that as soon as her cap was off, she’d be pulling her tresses into a giant pile on top of her head, pictures be damned. Luckily, she’d sprayed her face with a few layers of setting spray so no matter how much she sweat, her winged eyeliner and flawless complexion weren’t budging.

Beside her, Dorian swiped a bead of sweat that had fallen down his temple. Not even his mop of thick curls was enough to prevent the amounts of sweat from cascading down his cheeks and neck.

“If this speaker doesn’t hurry up, we’re going to boil alive,” he whispered as their graduation speaker drolled on. The man was supposed to be inspiring — he was an author turned executive, but his slow talking pace seemed to be getting slower with each word. Not only that, but each word seemed to be the same tone with no inflection, and Aelin was worried all of them were going to fall asleep before their names were called. Maybe she’d be more inclined to listen to his words of wisdom if the hundreds of them weren’t swimming in pools of their own sweat.

Somewhere in her musings, she heard a round of applause, signaling the end of the speech. Thank god.

The next speaker was their class valedictorian, slash Prom Queen. None other than Elide.

“On behalf of the Seniors, I’d like to take a moment to thank everyone who has been a part of our success,” she began. “The last four years have been filled with bumps in the road, and it hasn’t been easy. But our success is a direct result of everything you’ve given us. Your care and belief in us and faith when we doubted ourselves have been integral in our quest for knowledge. That includes our teachers, who taught us not only school lessons but lessons in life. Our parents and families, who have been there since the beginning. And the families we’ve created along the way.” She paused, searching for a face in the audience, smiling widely when she found her teal-haired girlfriend smiling back at her. “The bond that links us isn’t one of blood. It’s forged in joy and tears and friendship and respect,” Elide’s eyes found Aelin’s at that moment, and she couldn’t help but smile at her friend. “And no matter where this crazy life takes us beyond today, we will always take this place with us. Because home isn’t just a place. It’s a feeling, it’s a light in the darkness. It’s hope. And so, to the Orynth High senior class, I say, as we forge new paths for ourselves, may we never forget home.” She cleared her throat and smiled widely. “Let’s hold onto the memories and camaraderie and picture-perfect moments, for they made us who we are. Congratulations… we did it!”

The whole class whooped and hollered and clapped wildly, none more so than Manon, who beamed up at her girlfriend from the front row.

And just like that, it was time.

Aelin held her breath as Principal Havillard took the podium and started calling out their names. Her heart raced as her row stood, waiting to take the stage. Her nerves were momentarily squashed as Manon made a lewd gesture with her tongue between her fingers after accepting her diploma. She watched as Lysandra proudly plucked the degree and held it over her head. She knew her friend hadn’t been sure she’d be able to graduate, and it was a relief to hear her name.

Before she could process anything else, she was walking up the stairs and hearing her name being called out. “Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.”

She nearly tripped over her own feet at the chorus of shouting that came from the back of the chairs. She looked over at where Rhoe and Lorcan were shouting wildly and realized that they were accompanied by the entire fire squad. Aelin’s breath caught in her throat at the display of raucous hooting and hollering. These people who had known her since she was a child had come to cheer for her and see her graduate. She had not anticipated that at all. And she found herself completely overwhelmed.

Beside the squad, Maeve cheered, and on the other side of the chairs, down by the W’s, Chaol and Rowan stood and shouted with hands on either side of their mouths. A thrill of love and support rushed through her. She couldn’t believe how many people were here for her.

She grabbed the diploma from Principal Havillard’s hands and raised it into the air, causing the cheering to explode again. She stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes, making a silly face in the direction of her family.

Elide’s words rang in her ears. Her family. The squad, her dad, Lorcan, Maeve, her friends, and of course, Rowan. That vast group was more support than most people got in their lifetime. She’d never forget that.

She made her way back to her seat, laughing as Dorian flipped off his father and then booked it away from him, cackling wildly. Always a troublemaker, that one. And finally, after what seemed like forever, it was Rowan’s turn.

“Rowan Eugene Whitethorn.”

Aelin shot up from her chair, screaming as loud as she could, and despite being many rows back, she could feel Rowan’s eyes lock with hers. His lopsided grin was just for her, and she felt a thrill of joy run up her spine at the look.

“I love you,” she mouthed to him, causing his grin to widen.

“And with that,” Principal Havillard concluded. “I give you the senior class. Congratulations, graduates!”

Aelin stood and joined in the cheering again, her voice starting to go hoarse with the efforts of her support. They did it.

. . .

“Congratulations, Fireheart,” Rhoe said, throwing his arms around Aelin. Despite the heat, she welcomed his embrace.

When he pulled back, she noticed a large bouquet of her favorite flowers in his hand. He held them out to her, the red and orange flowers flickering like a live fire beneath the late afternoon sun.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said, suddenly feeling emotional.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, and she could tell that despite his dry cheeks, he’d been crying. “And I love you so much.”

She hugged him again, pulling him tight and not letting go for a long while. After they parted, Aelin was passed around for hugs to the entire squad, each one of them telling her a story of something she did when she was a small girl hanging out at the station, imbuing her with joyful memories.

Then it was Maeve’s turn, who didn’t hold back her tears at all. Fat blobs rolled down her face, and she didn’t both to move them away, seeing as they were coming in a steady stream.

“Oh, hon, I’m so proud of you,” she said as she practically squeezed the life out of Aelin. She was grateful she’d unzipped her graduation robe, otherwise she was sure she would have passed out from heat stroke by now.

“And what about me?” Rowan low voice interjected. Maeve burst into a fresh round of sobs as she pulled him close.

She blubbered into his shoulder about how proud she was of him, of both of them, of all their achievements and how grown up they were, and Aelin could feel her heart expanding. It felt like she was going to burst wide open.

By the time everyone had said their piece, the field had mostly emptied out. Aelin heard a soft ripple of groans as a few of the firefighters took out their pagers.

“Fire?” Aelin asked as she peeled the sweaty gown from her shoulders.

Rhoe shook his head. “Worse. Graduation pranks abound, apparently.”

Aelin laughed, understanding that her dad was probably in for a long night of nonsense work.

“So I shouldn’t expect you at Lysandra’s?”

Rhoe shook his head. “You don’t want your old man crashing anyway.” He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he was blinking back more tears and sniffed loudly. “Have fun. You deserve it.”

“I will,” Aelin said, hugging her dad one more time. As he left her with a wave, she looked around for Rowan, who was standing just a few feet away, talking with Maeve. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin.

“Hey, you” he said, offering his arm out to her with a wide smile. She leaned into his side and took a deep breath, letting her happiness flow through her.

A flash went off in their face, and Aelin knew that whatever moment Maeve had just captured that she’d be framing it.

“You ready?” she asked, and his smile widened.

“You headed to Lysandra’s?” Maeve asked, completely unaware of the real conversation happening between the two of them.

Rowan nodded. “Do you want to meet us there?” he asked Maeve, but she shook her head and waved them off. Apparently she had a big night of dinner service ahead of her, but she sent them off with a joint hug and another tearful smile.

And just like that, it was time.

. . .

 In the days, months, and years that followed, whenever Aelin was asked about her wedding, she would say that it went by so quickly that she couldn’t remember it, and that was mostly true.

From the time the pair entered city hall to when they exited, a total of maybe ten minutes had passed. There was no aisle to walk down, no verbose exchanging of vows, no romantic readings or passages, but it was perfect nonetheless.

Aelin clasped her bouquet of kingsflames in one hand and Rowan’s hand in another, letting her skirt swish as she swayed back and forth. She had no idea what words the city official said. All she remembered was the brightness in Rowan’s eyes as they stared down at her and the way he kissed her when they’d been pronounced husband and wife.

As they made their way back to his car, Aelin was giddy. They rolled the windows down, letting the cooler air whip through the jeep, a wild giggle bubbling up in her throat and fizzing like champagne with each second that passed. Delicious and lightheaded inducing.

They had done it. They’d actually gotten married.

She looked over at Rowan, who was already staring back at her, a soft dreamy smile on his face. She couldn’t help but grin wider at him, laughing again as his smile pressed against hers. She loved when they kissed like this – a smashing of two smiles that wasn’t quite a kiss at all.

The stress that they’d felt over the last however many weeks, months, years, wasn’t present at all in his posture. She glanced down at his hands poised on the steering wheel, his fingers curling around the black leather in a loose grasp and tapping along to some silent tune in his head. The late afternoon sun filtered through the window casting him in a glow that made him look like a bronzed god, and Aelin sighed happily. This man was all hers. Forever.

FOREVER.

She’d always known their lives would be intertwined, but to actually make it official was something else. The light turned green and the car lurched forward as he pressed on the gas and began driving again. But the adrenaline surging through her was too much. She couldn’t just sit in this passenger seat, she needed to do something.

“Pull over,” she said, eyes flashing at their surroundings.

“Huh?” Rowan’s head whipped toward hers, confused.

“Pull over!” she said again, louder this time. Verging on panic.  

Rowan’s relaxed posture immediately reversed, the thick corded muscles of his shoulders and neck tensing as he looked for a spot to pull over.

“There!” she said, her pulse racing wildly.

Up ahead was the empty parking lot of the library. Though it was usually sparse there, there was not a car in sight, and Rowan wasted no time swerving into the lot and putting his hands on Aelin’s shoulders, examining her up and down.

“Are you okay?” he asked, green eyes taking in every detail of her body as if searching for a gaping wound or sudden injury.

“I’m perfect,” she replied. And she was. She was elated. Running on adrenaline and joy.

To calm her suddenly worried boyfriend — no, husband — down, she placed her hands on both his cheeks and kissed his mouth in a soft, sweet kiss.

“Keep the car running,” she said, picking up Rowan’s phone where it was plugged into the car and adding a song to his Spotify queue.

“What are you doing, Ace?” Rowan sighed, exasperated with her antics. Panic was nowhere to be seen anymore in his posture, only annoyance. Which only made her smile wider. As the first notes of the song came onto the stereo, she cranked up the volume and hopped out of the car. She smiled up at the sky, swaying to the beat, basking in the first signs of sunset and pink tinged clouds overhead.

To his credit, Rowan didn’t ask any more questions. He simply followed her lead and exited the jeep.

“Husband,” Aelin said, offering out her hand. “May I have this dance?”

Rowan’s returning smile was so large she thought it might crack his whole face. Gods, he was gorgeous.

He pulled her close, swaying with her as their song played. “I can’t believe our first dance is to Dancing In The Moonlight,” he chuckled.

“We wouldn’t be us if it weren’t,” she said, leaning into his chest as his arms circled her waist and pulled her close.

And though the song was upbeat, they stayed embraced and tangled up in each other, slowly swaying, chest to chest, hearts beating in rapid tandem with the beat of the song. They were so wrapped up in each other that Aelin barely noticed the sun disappearing behind an ominously dark cloud until a large raindrop plopped onto her nose.

And another.

And another.

She thought they would run back into the car and seek shelter, but neither of them made a move. In fact, the rain just seemed to invigorate them. Rowan stared up at the sky and laughed, Aelin following right after him. He lifted his hand and spun her in a circle, both of them laughing with reckless abandon as Aelin’s skirt flared out around them. He spun her again and this time ended his flourish with a dip, kissing her deeply.

Time seemed to cease to exist as they danced. Under the raining sky they became a mess of water-drenched spinning, laughing, kissing, and singing.

The skies continued to pour, until they were both soaked through. But as the last notes of the song played, their little magic bubble disappeared.

Aelin looked at Rowan and then back at her white dress, which was now dripping.

“Omg I look like a drowned rat!” she shouted through the rain.

Rowan laughed, pulling her back into the jeep and grabbing a towel from his back seat to dry his own hair off before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“But a very cute rat,” he said, causing them both to burst into laughter once again as they took off toward their graduation party.

By the time they arrived at Lysandra’s, they were still water-logged, giggling messes. Lys gasped at their disheveled appearance, eyeing them up and down with a wary eye.

“Ummm, no,” she said.

“No?” Aelin laughed, feeling drunk on endorphins.

Lysandra’s wary eye morphed into a blinding smile at the pair of them. “Get out of here and go celebrate on your own,” she laughed. “And congratulations,” she whispered.

“For graduating…?” Aelin asked, and Lysandra couldn’t help but snort loudly.

“Babe, you’re wearing a white dress and a shit-eating grin.” She paused. “I’m happy for you.”

She embraced the pair of them. “Now get out of here before anyone sees you.”

Aelin and Rowan didn’t need any more prompting. Apparently they were not subtle enough to pull off seeing other people right now.

“Where to?” Aelin asked Rowan as they slid back into the car.

Rowan smiled back at her. “Anywhere we want.”

“Let’s go,” she said.

And with that, they hit the road. Overwhelmed from the day, Aelin promptly fell asleep in the passenger seat, letting the feel of the car lull her into a dreamless sleep.

. . .

“Aceeee,” Rowan whispered, pulling her from her slumber. It was completely dark outside and the pair were stopped at a gas station slash motel. “You gotta get out of the car and then you can go right back to sleep,” he said softly.

“I’m awake,” she mumbled through a wide yawn. “Where are we?”

Rowan chuckled as she practically poured out of the car into his arms. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she truly was until after they’d checked into the motel, which was surprisingly not seedy, and she was sitting back on the bed. Her dress wasn’t wet anymore, but it certainly wasn’t going to be comfortable to sleep in. She wished they’d thought to prepare better for this sudden excursion. Of course, Rowan had.

“I picked up some essentials at a rest stop,” Rowan said, as if reading her mind. He pulled out an oversized tee that read “Geck Yo Act Together,” with a large picture of a gecko on it and tossed it to her, along with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a little thing of mouthwash. He also pulled out giant sandwiches and chips and bottles of water and a Terrasen mountains tee for himself.

“Smart,” Aelin laughed, realizing the last time she ate was her (albeit giant) brunch, hours ago. “Is that where we are?” she asked, realizing she had no idea where they were.

“No,” he said, grinning softly. “I thought maybe we’d drive south. Explore for a while.”

“Is this our honeymoon?” Aelin laughed, looking around the small, dingy motel room. It wasn’t exactly what she’d imagined, but she also had never imagined getting married at eighteen.

“You told me you wanted to find the continent’s best chocolate piece of cake,” he said, and she couldn’t help but bark out a loud laugh.

“That could take weeks!”

“You got somewhere to be?” he asked, brow raised. And she loved the way his smile promised devious, devious things. And suddenly, she wasn’t so tired anymore.  

“I also got one more thing,” he said. She watched as he pulled a thick gold band out of his pocket, and she suddenly couldn’t breathe. He sat on the bed beside her and slid it onto her finger and her heart nearly stopped as he pulled another to slide onto his own. They were practically matching, except while a red stone sat in the middle of her ring, a dark green one that matched the shade of his eyes sat on his.

“Oh,” she said, her throat feeling remarkably dry. She tried to swallow, but it was too rough. A lump in her throat that wouldn’t abate. She tried again as she stared at the ring on her finger, her heart pounding as the red stone flickered in the dim motel room lighting. Why couldn’t she swallow?

“It’s just temporary,” Rowan rushed out, mistaking her silence as dislike. “The rest stop had a pawn shop, and I just knew we needed them, but they’re just for now…”

She cut him off with a swift and forceful kiss. “They’re perfect.”

“Hey, where’s my phone?” she asked. “I need to take a picture of this immediately.”

“I plugged it in,” he said, pointing to where he’d already set up a little charging station.

She picked it up, intending to take a picture of her ring, but an alert from literal hours ago disrupted that. She couldn’t believe it. An email in her inbox that read: Wendlyn University Admissions Update. Oh gods.

Without another word, she clicked into the email, heart pounding. Her eyes skimmed quickly, hoping to get the band-aid ripped off quickly, but she paused on the word CONGRATULATIONS.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD!” she screamed, throwing the phone at Rowan. He picked up the phone and smiled widely, whooping and wrapping her into a bear hug so tight she couldn’t breathe.

“You did it,” he mumbled through kisses. “I knew you were going to do it.”

Unable to control themselves, their kisses increased, heating up wildly until his kisses seared through her, worshipping each inch of her skin. She was breathing hard as he peeled her out of her dress and pushed her onto the bed and continued to whisper adorations and plans of their future. How proud of her he was, and how he was never going to let her forget it. She shivered as he let his mouth skimmed against her, and she promised in that moment to never take him or his love for granted. This is why she didn’t need handwritten wedding vows — because they vowed to each other all the time with a simple kiss. And more than kisses. They brought each other to orgasm again and again, until they were both sweaty and spent and shaking with pleasure. They both poured every ounce of joy and relief into their intertwining bodies, finding their own perfect rhythm, until long after they should have gone to sleep. But neither wanted this magical day to end.

He was twirling the ring around her finger when Aelin remembered that she hadn’t taken a picture of it yet. She reached for her phone and started at a text from her dad, which just said: Checking in.

“Oh my god,” Aelin said again, bolting upright.

But Rowan just chuckled sleepily, reaching out with one of his hands to squeeze her bare backside. “Yeah, baby. Oh my god. You’re incredible.”

“NO, ROWAN,” she said smacking his shoulder. “What were we thinking? We got married! And then left home without telling anyone?” She actually couldn’t believe she had done that. What was she supposed to write back to her dad? “Rhoe is going to KILL ME,” she said, finally realizing what had occurred over the last twelve hours. “No, wait. He’s going to kill YOU! He’s going to arrest you for kidnapping his only daughter!”

At that Rowan really did laugh and pulled her back down into his embrace. “Ace, are you serious?” his laughter poured over her, silky smooth. “You think I would marry you and take you out of state without explicitly asking your father for permission and telling him our plans?”

Aelin’s eyes widened as she looked at Rowan with serious eyes. “He knew?”

Rowan kissed her shoulder and mumbled a soft, “Go to sleep. I’ll tell you everything in the morning.”

She paused. “You made a plan, but didn’t think to pack a bag for me?”

He chuckled again, pulling her tighter against his side. “I did pack a bag for you,” he said. ”I just forgot toothpaste and a nightshirt,” he said, his lips loosening as sleep threatened to take him over. “You didn’t need it, though.” And with that, he was asleep.

“I love you, too,” she replied, pushing his hair from his eyes and loving the way he smiled at her touch, even asleep. Unable to help herself, she laced her fingers through his and snapped a quick pic of their intertwined hands before sending it off to her dad. As she rested the phone down and closed her eyes, she felt ready for the next chapter. Except, it wasn’t really a chapter, she guessed. It was the rest of her life. A new book she was writing. She didn’t know what it would entail, but she knew that she couldn’t wait.

THE END

[ravenquills]

He's Your Guy | Garreth Weasley x MC

summary - You struggle to brew a potion, and an unlikely chef knight comes to your rescue

warnings - fluff, drabble, GN!MC

notes - SECOND POST YAY! Garreth has a ratatouille moment (souped up)

word count - 703

The cauldron in front of you emitted a troubling purple glow, a stark contrast to the beautiful light blue shade shown in your Advanced Potions textbook. As you stirred the potion, you let out a sharp sigh and inwardly cursed your incompetence. This was the third time you’d started over on the Nocturnus potion. It felt as though someone had jinxed you.

“Too much Horklump juice,” Garreth Weasley remarked from your right, his voice laced with mild concern. You glanced at him, noticing his own potion wasn’t the light blue it should have been either, but that was to be expected of him and at least it wasn’t hissing like yours. Wait… hissing?!

You snapped your head back to your station in a panic and extinguished the flames beneath your cauldron, silencing the ominous noise. Garreth let out a chuckle, but promptly stifled it when you shot him a glare. “...I knew that. Just experimenting,” you muttered defensively. Letting out a frustrated huff, you raked your fingers through your hair and resigned yourself to starting over yet again. 

“If it’s experimenting you’re after, I’m your guy,” Garreth quipped, pointing his thumb at his chest with a smug grin. You rolled your eyes and groaned as you dragged your cauldron to the sinks for a quick rinse. Professor Sharp called your name from the back of the class, chiding you about the limited time and resources left. Mumbling a reluctant “Yes, Professor Sharp,” you returned to your station. Taking a deep breath, you re-read instructions with renewed focus. 

Despite your best efforts, today was not your day. Clumsiness plagued you as you managed to get three cuts on the same finger, cover your face in glowbug powder, and splash your brew all over your cloak, all in the span of twenty minutes. 

It also didn’t help that every few minutes, Garreth would call your name and ask you to look over at his potion or chat about his future brews. It wasn’t clear to you why Garreth wasn’t saying anything about your failing concoction. Normally, he’d tease you for sticking to the assigned potion instead of experimenting like he did. 

Whatever it was, you were thankful for it. If he made as much as one joke, you were certain it would send you running to the nearest bathroom to cry your rapidly overflowing frustration out.

Garreth was snapped out of his creative high by your deep sigh. He watched your deflated frame trudge past him towards the ingredient shelf. A sympathetic look graced his face and he turned to examine the likely culprit to your sour mood—your brew.

Consumed by his own creation, he hadn’t noticed how much worse yours had become. It puzzled him; he wondered how a student as promising and bright as you could be struggling this badly. 

Taking a quick glance around, Garreth saw you crouching next to the wooden ingredient shelf. Without missing a beat, he expertly picked out a couple of ingredients off the table and tossed them into your cauldron. He checked again to ensure you were still occupied, just in time to see you get up and start walking back. Before you were within earshot, Garreth muttered a charm to wandlessly will your spoon to stir your potion.

As you approached your failure of a potion, a bottle of dried Moonberries in hand, you almost dropped them in shock. It was a shimmery light blue, just like in the book. Setting down the bottle you were holding, you double-checked the recipe, baffled by the sudden change. Maybe you missed something about letting it sit or maybe it needed a pinch of misery.

Garreth’s voice broke the silence, brimming with faux seriousness, “Finally! I was starting to think you were aiming for your first-ever T grade!” 

The realization dawned on you. Garreth had helped you.

Feeling your heart do flips because of Garreth was not on your to-do list today. Or this week, month, year, or lifetime for that matter. Yet here you were, hiding a deepening blush from the world. “Thank you” you murmured, barely audible. 

Garreth’s eyes twinkled with mischief and warmth as he leaned closer to whisper discreetly, “I told you. I’m your guy.”

[awkwardchick87]

Christmas Bells

Merry Christmas from my table at the @pixelcafe-network! This year we did Christmas gift exchange and I was given @mysteria157 as her secret Santa! There you go lovely! I hope you enjoy this fic and Merry Christmas to you darling!!

Heading overseas to see your long distance boyfriend and spend your first Christmas with him, making your own traditions together!

CW - None! This is SFW WC - 2122 Thank you @trxshpandax for beta reading this for me also!! <3

Hitting the send button on your phone, letting Nanami know you had landed, before closing the screen and walking towards the baggage area, a small smile on your face as you adjusted the carry on bag, a small jingle heard within as the bell you so carefully packed was jostled around. It was your first Christmas in Japan with your boyfriend. Meeting through a Jujutsu society joint excursion between America and Japan, meant to foster unity worldwide for all sorcerers, although there were few outside of Japan, thanks to Tengen. 

Reaching for your bag, a hand quickly shot forward. Turning your head, a familiar mop of blonde hair filled your vision. Your eyes suddenly blurry as you leapt up and into his arms. Burying your face into the crook of his neck as you hugged him. “Nanami! I just sent you a text!” 

His strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground, “I know, I watched you send it.” His smile is evident in his voice. “I didn’t want to wait in the car, so I came in to meet you.” 

Leaning back, you kissed the tip of his nose, making his face scrunch up, “You really are so sweet! I can’t wait to spend Christmas here.” 

Gently putting you down, he grabbed your luggage with one hand, threading his fingers through your other hand, leading you out of the airport and to the car. Placing your bag in the backseat and opening the passenger door for you. The warm car, a contrast to the cool December air. 

Snow gently fell across Tokyo as Nanami drove you towards his apartment, listening to you talk about the flight and how excited you were to be in Japan for the holidays, hands still intertwined. “So what kinds of things are we going to do? Do we have a real Christmas tree? Bake cookies? Sing carols?” you looked at him excitedly. 

“Real trees are hard to come by here, but I do have a tree set up. I was going to bring you out to look at lights, maybe buy whatever decorations you want for the apartment and tree.” His smile was wide as he watched your eyes light up, bringing the back of your hand up to his lips, pressing a small kiss to it. “As for cookies, can we bake them together?” He asked, hopeful.

Nodding, you looked over at him, “of course! I am an excellent baker! I also have a small surprise for you.” Reaching into your carry on bag, you carefully pulled out the silver bell, a perfect replica of the bell from the Polar Express movie, the small twinkling sound it made was almost soothing, “Its a tradition of mine to put this on the tree..” 

Nanami glanced down at the bell, a smile spreading across his face “Its our tradition now.” 

Small tears formed in your eyes as you nodded at him, smiling before turning again to glance out the window, taking in the sight of Tokyo’s Christmas lights. The trees lining the streets shone brightly as you passed them. More lights decorated the apartments, lamps and storefronts as Nanami drove through the city. Bright white and blue shimmering across the window. Nanami finally pulled into the underground parking of an apartment building, stopping the car and getting out to go around and open your door for you, his hand instantly wrapping around yours again as you walk to the elevator. Pushing the button, you both enter the elevator as he presses the button for his floor. Bringing your hand up to his lips again, kissing the back of it, making you blush slightly. 

Finally reaching his floor, the elevator chimes as the doors open. Pulling you gently down the hallway, taking the keys from his pocket, Nanami unlocks his door, guiding you inside. Looking around, you noticed it was a humble apartment. To the left of the door, there was a simple kitchen. A small island separated the kitchen from the living room with its modern couch and a smaller television. A small hallway to the right of the door had the bathroom and you could see into the bedroom and office space with the doors open.

A simple fake tree in the living room was the only christmas decoration that Nanami had in the entire apartment. 

“This is perfect” you turned to him, reaching up and kissing his cheek before removing your shoes. Nanami helping you with your coat and scarf, hanging them on a row of hooks behind the door. 

“I thought we could go out tomorrow and get decorations for the tree.” He looked down at you, a small smile on his face. 

“I’d love that. And we can get some things for cookies too!” you stepped into the living room of the apartment, plopped down on the couch, yawning. 

“Jet leg?” Nanami asked, sitting beside you, nodding and patting his lap for you to lay down.

“Yeah, I guess so. I am going to take a small nap, and then we can go out, promise.” Laying your head in his lap, you let out another yawn before your eyes fell shut, Nanami running his hands through your hair. 

Your eyes fluttered open the next morning, stretching your arms out, you realized you were in Nanami’s bed. ‘He must have helped me get to bed last night.’ you thought to yourself. The smell of eggs and bacon wafting into the room as you pulled the blankets from yourself. Spotting your bell on the table beside you, Nanami had taken it from your bag and placed it somewhere for you to see, nestling it on top of your scarf. Picking it up, you gave it a quick check, making sure to bring it out with you. 

Making your way to the kitchen, you spot Nanami at the stove, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a cup of tea already on the island for you. Steam rising from the cup as you pull out a chair to sit at the island, placing the precious bell on the counter, still keeping it on the scarf, making sure it does not roll off the counter. 

 “Good morning love” Nanami placed a plate of breakfast in front of you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, “Did you sleep ok?”

Nodding, as you let out a small yawn, “I did, thank you. I didn’t realize I was so tired from traveling. When did we move to the bed?” 

“A little after you fell asleep. I wanted you to be comfortable.” Nanami pulled up a chair beside you, passing you a fork and sliding your tea towards you. 

Diving into your breakfast, you smiled. “This is so good!” 

Nanami smiled, pulling out his phone and checking the time, “So when do you want to head out? I think we should get some decorations for the tree at least. It looks a little… bland right now.” He pointed at the tree with his fork. 

Nodding excitedly, “Yes. I just want to shower and get ready and then we can go out.” taking the last few bites of food, you got up from the island, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to Nanami’s cheek, “Thank you for breakfast and tea. It was perfect. Don't you dare touch the dishes! I will wash them.” you pointed at him with one finger as you made your way to the bathroom to shower, eyes narrowed playfully at him. 

He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as he stood, grabbing the plates from the island. 

Getting out of the shower, you heard the sink running. Scoffing slightly as you styled your hair and applied a simple makeup look before stepping out of the bathroom, “I said I would wash them.” You pointed between Nanami and the dishes as he laughed at you.

Drying his hands, he walked over to you, “You’re here to spend time with me, you don't need to worry about anything else.” placing his hands on either side of your face, tilting your head up, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose and then your forehead, “Now, let's go get some decorations, ok?” His face was bright as he smiled down at you. 

Looking up, you couldn’t help but smile back, nodding. 

Slipping on your shoes and grabbing your coat, Nanami opened the door for you, locking it behind him as you two set out. 

Stopping at the Christmas market first, Nanami parked the car a distance away so you could talk around for a bit, stopping to look at storefronts, refusing to let you pay for anything you found. Grabbing hot cocoa for you both, along with a few treats before he tucked the bags away in the trunk of the car before you set off shopping again. 

Finding a small shop, your face lit up. Excitedly pointing at the TV in the back of the store, playing Polar Express for the shoppers as they browsed the store. You quickly pulled Nanami into the shop, realizing it was a decorations store, specializing in Christmas tree decorations, “Oh wow, this is everything we will need!” You turned towards Nanami, eyes shining brightly with joy. 

“Are you sure? There are a few other shops down the street?” Nanami asked you.

“I’m sure.” you replied, grabbing a small bauble from a hook, admiring the gold and red glitter on it. 

Nanami watched you bounce around the shop, holding a small basket as you filled it with various decorations, a smile on his face, nodding when you turned to ask his opinion on anything you thought he might like for the tree. 

Bringing the basket of decorations to the counter, you watched the shopkeeper ring up the ornaments and Nanami tap his card on the reader, paying for the items, throwing a quick scowl his way as he did his best to ignore you. 

Getting back to the apartment with Nanami, you quickly set the decorations out on the island, beside the bell, left there from the morning, “I think this is more then enough decorations for the tree” you beamed up at him. 

Nanami rounded the island, passing you another cup of tea and nodded, “These will be perfect. Where should we start?” he asked, picking up a small reindeer ornament, holding it up to the tree. 

“Thats as good a start as any!” picking up your own small ornament, you grabbed his hand, guiding him to the tree, placing your own ornament on the tree. 

Soon, the sound of your small giggles and the clinking of ornaments filled the air. Nanami had turned on the TV, changing the channel to a classic fireplace as you both sipped tea and placed your newly bought ornaments on the tree. His height, an obvious advantage to reaching the taller branches while you made sure to direct him, as to not leave any branches bare or any spots overflowing with decorations. 

“Time for the moment of truth” You grabbed one end of the string of lights Nanami had placed on the tree when he assembled it, holding it in the air, ready to plug it in. Crouching down, you pushed the prongs into the plug and stood back. Watching the lights flicker and dance across the tree, lighting the apartment up as the glow shone on Nanami's face. 

“Beautiful.” you heard him whisper. 

Turning your head to look up at him, you saw him looking towards you. The glow of the tree shining in both your eyes. 

A small blush crept up your face as he turned, reaching across the kitchen island, grabbing the bell. The soft chime rang in your ears as he held it out to you, “Its the last ornament, do you want to do the honours?” leaning in, he whispered as he grabbed your palm, placing the bell into it. 

Nodding, wrapping your fingers around the bell, you reached as high as you could on the tree, wrapping the small ribbon around a branch and letting it dangle. The bell rang gently as you watched it sway. 

Turning to look at Nanami, he stepped close to you, wiping a small tear you hadn’t realized you shed, “Happy tears? I hope?” He asked. 

Nodding you wiped your eyes, “Very happy tears.” you replied, wrapping your hands around Nanami as he kissed the top of your head. 

Taking a deep breath, you looked again at the tree. The ornaments were not perfect, and they were slightly mismatched, but it was perfect. Holding Nanami’s hand, you felt him bring it up to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of it. “Merry Christmas Darling.”

As always - credit for the dividers goes to the always talented @adornedwithlight <3