#conversations • i heard there's a few different people you're talking to.

[ycseniarivera]

Thank you for inviting me to help out with the Christmas show! Everyone and their horses did amazing, I really can't believe how much fun it was. Now that it's the new year, are you looking forward to doing even more for the kids? I know they really adore you. @docolives

[devosin]

GRIM ACCIDENTLY OUTING YOUR CRUSH ON HIM !! . . grim accidently blurting out how much you love the dorm head . .

gender neutral reader / fluff / crack taken seriously / mutual pinning

a/n: this has been rotting in my idea list for like over 2 years, enjoy! og account: @/cupids-chamber

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus was surprised, when you had decided to tag along on his Gargoyle Study Club meeting, however he was ecstatic with the idea of you joining him, while he talked about his favorite things. Truly an exciting time, talking to his favorite person about his favorite things!

For once he didn't quite mind having no one at the meetings, because he got to spend time with you—and Grim . . he's there too . . In fact, Malleus kind of finds it endearing he stuck around this long with you, listening to him, despite clearly not being interested in the topic.

Malleus walked around, showing you his collection of gargoyles—explaining the extensive history of each one, and you listened, throughout his explanations which most people would find extremely boring, though seeing how passionate he was about the subject, you couldn't help but be engaged.

You followed along behind him, as he showed you each one, Grim on your shoulder, yawning rather loudly—clearly bored with the past hour, where you dragged him into Malleus's club meeting, which you passed off as a 'morale' thing to do—when he can clearly tell you did this because you liked him.

"Ah . . I have something I want to give to you"—Malleus shifted through the drawers, looking for the miniature gargoyles he had made for the both of you (well just you, he figured grim would appreciate something more . . edible . . he got tuna.).

Grim leans in closer to you, whispering rather loudly, so much so you knew Malleus could hear, "henchman, how much longer . . my whiskers are turning white here!!", he whispered all bit dramatically, and you sighed internally, mumbling a soft, "Grim not right now", in response.

After a few more moments of silence, Grim leaned back, and exclaimed, "You seriously like this guy, he likes gargoyles more then I like tuna—"

Grim paused, realizing he spoke a little more than he really should've. . . and Malleus paused, dropping whatever was in his hand to the floor, turning blankly at you, looking at you with a dumbfounded look on his face . . (he's processing, give him a minute.)

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Riddle isn't the kind of person to intrude in a conversation, especially when he knows he isn't wanted there (debatable)—He also doesn't enjoy listening in on others private conversations . . However, this case is different, obviously he has the right to be curious when you're being so very loud, I mean practically everyone can hear you!

His heels clicked on the floors, as he raced through the halls—Riddle doesn't often find himself in a rush, but lunch had started 5 minutes ago, and he was running behind on his schedule.

His hands gripped his notes tightly, and just as he was about to make a turn, he heard his name . .—Riddle stopped in his tracks, looking around, in order to find the source of the noise, that's when he spotted you . . and grim, who was speaking rather loudly.

Now, Riddle swears he's not purposefully ease-dropping, but Grim was loud. . he was bound to overhear anyways! . . Well that's what he'll keep telling himself, in order to ease the guilt of listening in on your private conversations.

"Riddle?!" Grim exclaimed, waving his little paws around in shock, "out of everyone henchman, you like that—", you covered Grim's mouth with your hand, whispering loudly in response, "Why don't you tell the whole school I like Riddle, Grim?!?"

Riddle paused in response to that, 'you liked him? . . as in romantically? . .', Riddle loses his grip on his notes, in shock. Papers scattered the floor with a thud, and before Riddle could fix the mess he had accidently caused, you turned, and faced him . . This is gonna be one long confessio—conversation.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

See, Vil isn't the kind of person to believe in a rumor or petty gossip that he hears across the halls of Pomefiore, because if there's drama then Octavinelle and Pomefiore are the absolute first at the crime scene—He's well aware of how a small lie and a fake rumor can go and ruin someone's life, which is why Vil prefers information from the source.

That being said, Vil does enjoy gossip—and at time's he draws his own conclusion to a topic, and keeps it to himself, he's on the middle line of it all, but you bet, he'll 'coincidentally' overhear all the drama going on at your family reunion but don't worry, he's amazing with secrets. (Headcanon: he probably pretends not to like gossip, but still listens and reacts when Rook tells him what he overheard)

And this is why Vil couldn't help it but approach Grim when he heard him complaining begrudgingly to himself, about you kicking him out and making him run 'errands' . . which were more likely then not, a distraction.

"Oh it's nothing, henchman just needed privacy . . ya . .", Vil raises a brow, and Grim should've shut down, but when a can of good tuna got involved . . Well a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Grim took the can of tuna from Vil, "They're preparing a confession letter", Grim spoke and Vil couldn't help but feel a pang of betrayal at the revelation, how could they like someone else . . When he's breathing! (At least wait till he's cremated, like gosh . . So as long as his body exists, even if he's not breathing, you should love him frfr #hawkmothcore for the win) . .

"To who?", Vil asks, curiously, and Grim stares at him blankly, "I'll give you another can to go—" he offers, "Gimme it right now, and I'll tell ya'".

Vil sighs, handing him another can, "The letter is for ya', henchman likes you—".

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Now normally, Leona could care less as to what goes on in the botanical garden, while he takes a nap there (mainly because he's too asleep to register his surroundings), because even with his acute sense of hearing, rarely anyone visits, and if they do, they only do so to take a break or catch a breather, or to just immerse themselves in the garden as a sort of escape, so it's usually all quiet and soothing, for the most part.

However, some days he wasn't so lucky, be it students randomly popping in so they could skip class, or to have a picnic, or that random couple, who thinks it'd be a cute and adorable idea to have a date in the botanical garden because no-one goes there, and it's so secretive and the mystery excites them. (he hates, he fucking hates it, he's the biggest hater there is, he despises all couples equally.)

Leona was all comfortable, half-asleep, his eyes were closed as he was ready to just get some shut-eye, sleep for a couple hours—until, he heard footsteps, rather loud ones . . Now, he normally doesn't care, and to be frank, he doesn't care right now, he figured they're taking a small stroll, and will stop . . eventually. (delusional king!!)

"Grim this is ridiculous—", Leona's ears perked up as he heard your voice, now that had his eyes wide open, looking around for you . . Well he's not that curious, as to what you find 'ridiculous' (he's very curious, he needs to know each detail, tell him everything), but he does hope you expand on it.

"C'mon henchmen! The best way to get over someone is confess and get closure?", Grim was confused himself, with whatever he was saying, "Oh yea Grim, which class did you learn that from, romance 101 with Crowley?—", Leona snorts.

"No actually I asked Trien!" Grim says . . a bit too confidently for comfort, "Grim . . I don't think you should be proud of that", you point out.

"Just tell Leona you like him? He's not gonna kill ya"

". . ." Leona froze, . . you liked him? I mean yea that makes sense, he's really attractive, but you—Liked him? . .

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Azul states that he doesn't favor you that much—although the twins will argue otherwise, especially since Azul got you to taste test the new Monstro Lounge menu items, before he released it . . before even tasting it himself, . . and maybe he didn't want to let it slip that he liked you only—because he ended up also inviting Grim to taste the food with you—And with Crowley's payments . . well you were more than willing to accept free food.

To be fair, Azul is aware you do get a bit more special treatment, and deep-down he's well aware he likes you, but confronting his feelings? in this economy? . . not gonna happen . . He'd rather you assume he's a cat person who likes Grim, because clearly that's what you think of him, since he's so pretty and smart and good at covering his feelings. (He's not, he's boyfailing a little too close to the sun.)

Azul had everything set up—and by that he means, he had a plan and got other people to set it up for him, according to said plan, because he couldn't give away the fact that he had planned it himself, no . . that would make it seem like he was into you, and he'd rather die then you know that—In fact, he'd rather have his tentacles inked dry and cut off, fried and dipped in his ink, and shoved so far down his throat he chokes and dies before that even remotely comes close to happening.

You sat beside Azul, as he asked asked you about the food, and you gave responses that he mostly liked, . . well you did have some comments about the blue cheese rigatoni . . But to be fair, he entrusted the blue cheese to Floyd . .

Grim was half-way through his food, when he randomly spoke, with his mouth rather full, "This is amazing . . I can see why you like this guy henchman . .—" Azul paused and he practically stopped blinking, if his ears could perk up, then it would right now, "—for once your taste in men . . has good justification henchm—" Grim only paused when he recognized your glare, and only then did he realize how badly he fucked up . . "I'm not getting the good tuna for awhile . . am I?"

KALIM AL-ASIM

Kalim doesn't usually come in without an appointment (lies), or before informing you beforehand (lies on top of lies), and he doesn't really like invading your personal time (and lies again) . . at least not knowingly, but today was different . . he wanted to go somewhere with you! It's a surprise, and surely you'd appreciate him randomly popping into your dorm and dragging you outside, in the sunlight like an upstanding citizen and friend.

Kalim settles on the couch in the lounge of Ramshackle, stretching his arms out as he gets comfortable. All the while, Grim stares him down, . . something Kalim noticed off the get-go, "Why are you looking at me like that?", he calls out, confused and a tad bit unnerved at the blatant piercing stare.

"You're the one henchman likes, right? . .—what's your credit score? . . how many cans of tuna are we talking—"

Kalim paused, ". . . what?", he asks blankly, still paused at the first half of Grim's sentence, enough to not notice or take offense to the rest of his words and questions. "Why can't ya' hear me . . ?! I asked what's your credit scor—", grim responds, only to be cut-off mid-sentence by Kalim "BEFORE THAT!"

"That you're the person henchman lik—", Grim pauses as he hears your voice, and as you enter the room, Grim realizes his mistake, "Fuck."

"Kalim act natural!" Grim asks, as he goes back into his usual stance, but as he see's Kalim not moving, . . "who am I kidding . . no one can get shit through to ya' in one go . . I'm fucked."

IDIA SHROUD

Idia had his gaming equipment set up for two, well it would be three—but paws and controllers isn't the most fun thing to play around with, therefore Grim has opted to watching, instead of playing. Which he gets bored of rather fast, and well Ortho preferred to watch his older brother then play, or do normal kid things like advanced calculus.

Although Idia didn't really mind that, he enjoyed playing with you, because you were a really good challenge, a true gamer! . . And with newer games, he found that you listened and got the hang of it fast, and it was fun helping you grow your account on his favorite games, and it was also fun listening to you ramble about your favorite games from your world.

"So yea in genshin impact—", you rambled on and on about the Fontaine chapter, and about the 'archon' which was like the great seven, and how sad her storyline was, Idia dabbled in Lore from time to time, though he really found it amusing how you took the time to describe everything, you really helped immerse him in the storyline, and to be honest, sometimes he could imagine he was playing the game with you.

"—and then if you went into this specific area you could actually hear her cry . . OH oh! . . and when Neuvillette cried, it would like downpour so hard . . ", you continued rambling, and Idia would just listen, so much so that you guys completely forgot the game you were actually playing . . which seemed to upset Grim, who wanted to watch.

"Yea yea . . henchmen, we get it was sad, and it's fun talking to the love of your life—but could we please have more playing and less talking!", Grim explained rather dramatically, his paws flinging up, only to be silenced when he saw the two of you silent, looking at each other . . and then Idia's hair burst up in bright pink flames . .

commissions / discord server / comfort letters

@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[erwinsvow]

little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…

sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)

hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡

in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.

that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.

you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.

it seemed easy enough for rafe though.

he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.

rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.

rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.

until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.

"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."

"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.

"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"

you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.

crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.

but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.

rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.

he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.

"wasn't feeling good. came home."

"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?

"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.

"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."

"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.

rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.

the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.

"you okay?"

"yeah. fine. you okay?"

if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.

"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.

"no, it was too short."

"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.

"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."

"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"

fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.

"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.

your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.

in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.

"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"

you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.

rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.

"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"

"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"

"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"

"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."

yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.

"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."

"rafe, i-"

"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.

"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.

"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."

"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."

"it's hard enough to be mean to you."

"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."

"no problem, kid."

"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.

[arachine]

something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…

includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe

note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!

link to part two + link to part three

i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.

no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.

no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.

and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.

the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.

things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.

conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…

one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.

when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.

a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.

gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.

"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"

while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.

"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"

"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."

he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.

"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"

the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"

"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.

the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.

"miss what, daddy?"

"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."

"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-

"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"

"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

"jeez kid, just answer the question."

she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.

she doesn't budge.

"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."

with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.

"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"

ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.

"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."

she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."

"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."

20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.

[lyrefromthesea]

oh! Since you also do requests with hybrids, could I ask for wolfhybrids (or fox) hashiras x reader? Like hashiras see the reader as the perfect mate material, so they try to get closer to them by courting them in their own ways

Male Hashira x Reader - Prey tell?

author's note: the title is a pun, my humor is dry. i fell down the stairs and sit in a hospital since yesterday.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: wolf!hybrids, a/b/o, kny!au

i've been thinking a lot about this idea now, especially which rank each hashira would have. alpha? beta? omega? it was quite hard, but i allowed myself to create a little au for better understanding.

to not mess things up, i decided that the reader will be an omega in this au. all the hashira are considered alphas, which of course has a reason too.

i've went through the a/b/o thing over the past two or three days and to put it simply: alpha is the equivalent to strong, omegas are weak in comparison.

the hashira are the strongest swordsmen in the corp, it would only be right to rank them as an alpha (or a beta).

you, on the other hand, have been fighting your way to the top. omegas are weaker than most, but you possess a strong mind, which helped you work your way up.

naturally, the day will come that you catch their attention, if only for the fact that you're an omega. i also imagine omegas to be more rare than alphas and betas, since they take on a weaker role in this au.

Tengen:

• he's smitten since day one - an alpha different from any you've met yet. smug smirk and tall body towering over you the minute your scent hits his nose.

• your scent gives him the same feeling the scents of his three wives do. you're so small, perhaps not physically, but your weak omega presence makes his protective instincts flare up.

• just another day or two and three women are by your side, two betas and another omega looking at you with happiness and a feeling of finally coming home.

• you'll learn to love all of them - courting one is courting all. Tengen's not surprised to come home and find all of you nuzzled together in a cuddle pile.

• and if that isn't enough to turn you into a proper mate of his, shiny presents and lots of time squished between four other people will surely do it.

Obanai:

• small and weak. how did you end up near the alphas? he's suspicious when he heard of you, no omega would be able to turn into a hashira. he needed to see that for himself.

• nearly falls off his spot in the tree when he sees you and a comforting scent hits his nose. he's almost embarrassed by the way his fluffy ears are twitching, trying to listen to your conversation with Rengoku.

• he follows you around for a few days, mustering up the courage to talk to you after nearly a week. you looked up when the man sat in front of you, another bowl of food in hand.

• he doesn't talk much, only telling you that omegas should eat more than you do. you awkwardly look at him for a while, taking the bowl after another minute and thanking him.

• the action alone got him blushing under his mask, bringing you food for the next month when he finds you eating somewhere around the training grounds.

Rengoku:

• he's one of the calmer ones when he hears about your rank as a hashira. an omega got ranked this high? what incredible talent you must possess!

• he's by no means against your way of living, but he can't keep his mouth shut about how "you should stay home and get protected by a proper alpha!" it's no insult and you can sense that much, but you find yourself disagreeing.

• once he's sure that you're the perfect material for a mate, he'll court you the proper way, just like his mother once told him.

• it's just that his "proper courting" nearly has you running away in embarrassment.

• "dear [name], allow me to show you my interest through the traditional ways of courting one's future mate!"

• your agreement only came a day later, after you survived his booming voice right behind you in the midst of a forest's silence. next time he shouldn't sneak up on you like that.

Sanemi:

• hah? ridiculous. a small thing like you is supposed to work midst the likes of him? don't make him laugh, he could eat you up for breakfast.

• with that attractive smell reeking from your body, you wouldn't survive a day. he would see you become a demon's snack sooner than later.

• his jaw nearly hits the ground when he sees you outsmart the lower rank demon in front of you with speed and flexibility instead of strength.

• he grumbles about your stupid cute presence, sweetly roaming around him. you're truthfully just going on about your day, but it's enough to make his mind go blank.

• you're the perfect mix of strong and obedient for him, listening so well to him, because "he's done this job longer than you and you were happy to learn."

• internally smacks himself when he tries signalling his courting intentions by gifting you clothes heavily drenched in his scent.

Giyuu:

• he didn't voice his worries, but an omega living this kind of life? any alpha would be worried, right? especially since omegas have gotten so rare these days!

• but, oh, you're so sweet and nice. you once cooked him some soup and he swore you needed an alpha's protection - his protection.

• if he could just steal you away and ensure your safety, but he knew that would make you unhappy. so he makes sure to keep you safe by following you like a lap dog.

• it's not uncommon to see the new omega and the gloomy hashira take a walk together. people tend to avoid you, feeling unwell because of the intense stare the alpha behind you gives them.

• some of them swore they have seen the two of you nuzzle against each other. a hint of his scent had previously started lingering on your uniform too.

Gyomei:

• is it just your imagination or have you been joining missions with the stone hashira more often? no, it's definitely true.

• ever since he has taken a liking to you, he had started courting you by ensuring your safety and happiness.

• he doesn't know a lot about proper courting, mostly because it didn't interest him for most of his life. his courting is really special, but you don't mind.

• instead of bestowing gifts upon you, he takes you to special places he has found, most of them with a unique smell - a waterfall or a meadow full of flowers.

• he tries to gouge your reactions, mostly trusting his ears and tail, because he sadly can't see your beautiful face.

• you find yourself blushing with the way his ears often twitch around you, trying to listen to your every breath and laugh.

• your favourite times are when a protective tail brushes against your back, inviting you into a long session of cuddling.

[livin4woso]

Silent until spoken too-(arsenal x adhd! Reader)

Summary- growing up reader has always been told that they talk too much or too loud so when transferring to a new team they decide to take a new approach dont speak unless spoken too. Yet it only takes the young aussie to break the readers doubts and the rest of the team follow in persuit.

It was a fresh start for you but this time you need to make a good impression. The words of your mother rang in your thoughts,'no one likes the loud girl' it was something as much as you tried to explain she never understood your talkative behaviour or uncontrollable volume when you speak.

It was when you were 18 that you were finally diagnosed with adhd it was like a weight lifted of your shoulders that you never knew you were carrying to begin with. Knowing this information gave you clarity of why you did certain things yet you still could never justify them and you let the words of ignorant others to swirl in your mind.

Don't be the loud annoying one. Instead, be the opposite. Be silent until spoken too.

The first day of training had arrived quickly and you sat and hyped yourself up in your car to get all of your pent up energy out as you couldn't get rid of it by talking someones ear off then you had to do it some other way. You made your way into the changing room to be introduced to all the sqaud, which was relatively quick and filled with hand shakes and a few hi's and normal chat.

Until you reached the young aussie midfielder, she was a little bit older than you as you were just freshly 20, and she was 22, but there was something different about her a welcoming energy. "Hi, im kyra, but you probably know that.. wait, unless you didnt sorry i shouldn't assume" the words tumble out her mouth at rapid pace yet too you it was the perfect speed. "Hi im y/n nice to meet you" you say back holding your hand out "also i do know that you're kyra so don't worry" you reply letting go of her hand before making your way to your cubby to put on your boots.

Training began, and the negative thoughts still swirled in your mind each time you began to get more talking, which caused you to shut down into silence again, giving people one or two word answers. Yet eachtime you were with kyra you forgot all those doubts and it was if she just knew how to make you talk.

As you walked into lunch the words speeding out your mouth as fast as they could and your conversation getting gradually louder without you realising until one of the older girls commented "y/n can you stop shouting please the person you're talking to is right next to you not a mile away" lia said not meaning any harm but it sends you spiraling that if one person thinks that then soon enough everyone else will "oh right yeah im sorry" you respond in barley over a whisper while toying with the braclet on your wrist.

"Erm im sorry I'll leave you be now you probably want to talk to your other friends" you say to kyra with a forced smile as your thoughts consume you "no its okay come sit with us im sure they would love you and i like listening to you its fun" she said grabbing your hand and dragging you to the table where lessi and vic sat so there wasn't much of a choice.

Dinner was great, and it felt like you could speak without worrying that you are talking too much. Then came something slightly worse there was a pre training meeting which was going to cover what you were doing for the next couple weeks and important dates. Its not that you hate meetings but trying to sit still for so long without irritating the person next to you was the challenge.

The meeting dragged. Well, for you, it did that one hour felt like a year and of course being new you were sat right at the front next to kim and leah so you had to be on your best behavior. It started off okay. You could focus when jonas was talking, then you heard the clock tick, and that was all you could focus on. Then, about 20 minutes in your legs started bouncing, but that wasn't enough, so you started playing the finger drums on your thigh until kim gave you a death stare from next to you. After 40 minutes you'd zoned out completely just staring at the board as you let your thoughts wander you knew you shouldn't have but you couldn't help that you either had the attention span of a goldfish or could only pay attention to one thing.

The meeting had ended, and that's when leah snapped you out of your trance by waving her hand over your face "oi y/n, were you even listening to what i was saying.. the meetings over, " she said."Oh right, yeah, my bad, sorry, I'll get ready to go home, " you said, staring up at her, but as you were about to leave the room, she stopped you.

"Look i dont know whats going on but next time you need to pay more attention you were distracted the whole time and it might just have been nerves becauses it your first day but next time just be more aware" she said in a serious tone yet it had a hint of politeness to it as she meant well. However, at this point, you knew you couldn't hide your adhd forever, and it would give you a reason for your behaviour. "Oh right im sorry erm its my adhd its just hard to pay attention in meetings when i dont have something to fidget with but next time I'll be more prepared" you say your voice laced with worry waiting for her response.

"Well, why didn't you just tell us in the beginning we would have been much more accommodating for you" she says smiling back. "Honestly im not sure its just hard to talk about" you say back.

Since that conversation with leah, life and arsenal had become so much easier, and unlike the words of others, being the loud girl isn't so bad after all. You can't be the annoying one when you accompany yourself in people who don't find you annoying.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Treat You Better V

Laia Codina x Reader

Summary: Sometimes, Laia can't understand you

When Laia first joined Arsenal, she studied English hard.

Arsenal was a big change and she wanted to hit the ground running and she did for the most part.

The only issue she had was understanding everyone's accents.

You and Katie are very Irish. It leaks from your every pore, right down to the way that you both decorate your cubbies at training.

Your accent is a little softer than Katie's, more tempered by the English people you surround yourself with.

It's softest at home with Laia, when you're both curled up on the sofa together, watching some mindless tv show to help Laia with her English.

But your Dublin accent comes out when you're around Katie.

It's thick and throaty and Laia is always shocked when it suddenly switches back to your softer one when it's just you two again.

Laia loves your accent, she really does. It's different to everyone else's she's heard and it's so unapologetically you that she can't hate it.

But, god, does it make you difficult to understand.

Laia can barely follow along as she sits at your side at the breakfast place you've dragged her to. Katie's there as well, opposite you in the booth.

You're both talking at a mile a minute and Laia just can't keep up. Your words jumbled into each other and it's like you don't even need to come up for air, your accent mixing with Katie's until it's all just a jumbled mess in Laia's ears.

She'd be a little bit annoyed if it weren't for the fact that you're still holding her hand under the table and the look on your face is so happy that clearly she isn't missing out on much by not being able to understand.

It also helps that Caitlin, who sits opposite her, looks like she's in the exact same boat. That helps a little, that a native English speaker also can't keep up with the fast paced Irish accent that's filled the booth.

"Honestly," Caitlin whispers over the table, leaning forward so you and Katie can't hear her," It's like listening to the radio in another language. I can never tell what they're saying."

"It's easier when it's just me and y/n," Laia confesses and Caitlin nods along.

"Yeah. Katie always slows it down when it's just us. I don't know what it is about those two being together that brings out this side of them."

"Side of who?"

It's impressive the way your accent switches back to what Laia normally hears when you're not addressing Katie, the way it softens and goes smooth.

"No one," Caitlin says.

You look at her in confusion for a moment before shrugging and turning back to your conversation with Katie.

It's not just with Katie that your accent switches though, Laia notes as she sits next to you on the sofa one night.

You're on the phone to your parents and it goes all thick and throaty again. You're not talking quite as quickly and you're not talking quite as hard but your accent does turn back to what Laia supposes it must be like at home in Ireland.

She has no idea what you're saying but she could listen to you waffle on forever.

You're talking to your mother about something, Laia can only catch a few words here and there but she can't help but stare, a small smile on your face as you laugh at whatever your mum has just said to.

"Yeah, yeah," You say," I've got her here. Do you want to talk to her?"

Laia sits up a little bit.

"Laia, my Mam wants to talk to you."

It's in that moment, when Laia takes the phone from you and greets your mother, that she realises your accent was a much more tame version than everyone else's.

Your Mam speaks fast and without her being here in person, Laia can't attempt to lip read to fill the gaps. She talks fast and it seems like she's asking questions that Laia stumbles through answering, hoping that her hesitation is put down to English not being her first language.

Somehow though, with her head reeling and a little more stumbling over her words, she makes it through the conversation and you both say goodbye to your Mam.

"She approves," You preen, puffing out your chest like her approval of your girlfriend is the greatest thing you've ever done," You really impressed her."

"I did?"

"Yeah. She's super impressed. She said that she'll come over to visit us soon. You haven't lived if you haven't tried my Mam's roast. Perfect every time."

You relax back on the sofa, arm flung over Laia's shoulder.

"I...But how? I-I stumbled over my words. I couldn't under-"

She catches herself but you seem to know exactly what she was going to say.

"Understand her? Yeah, Mam does that whenever I date anyone that isn't Irish. She really exaggerates the accent but you really pushed through."

"Wait, that was on purpose?"

"For sure. Mam won't accept anyone who doesn't try. She was really impressed with you."

Laia grins, feeling pretty proud of herself.

"It's why me and Katie have been training you." You grin at Laia as she looks at you in disbelief. "If you could handle us together then you can certainly handle my Mam."

[slushycoookie]

Roleplay Date ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Content: You and Miguel do some roleplay, mostly fluff, starts to get suggestive occasionally and near the end, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: Wanted to do a quick idea of you doing a role-play date with Miguel! Enjoy!

He should be here any minute now.

The time on your phone was your favorite thing to look at when you stepped into the bar. You tried to relax with a sip of your margarita, the slightly sour taste of apple dancing across your palate, but your mind kept wandering. How was this going to go? Would it be awkward? Or would it fail if someone tried to steal your man? You had a few other people try to talk to you while you sat but to your relief, disappeared when they saw you weren't that interested.

You had no reason to be nervous. Couples go on role-play dates all the time. You read their ideas and their experiences. It should be fun.

Thirty minutes passed and you saw your husband.

You caught your breath at his change of appearance. A green cardigan, with the top button undone. His white pants contrasted in color but somehow worked well with his black suede loafers. Miguel looked good. You always knew he could be, but this was a little different. You tried not to gawk as you sipped your drink again, pretending the menu was more interesting than anyone else. He wasn't too far from your seat but you caught a whiff of his cologne, earthy with sharp hints of mint. It's one you've never smelled before.

Miguel ordered a rum and coke as you tried to decide what to eat. Maybe some sliders? Or there was a sampling platter you could try. But you also saw sushi on the menu.

“Hi.”

You perked up, heart banging in your chest as you turned to him. He was even better up close. And…did he change his hair? It was parted to the side, not slicked back like his usual style. Miguel usually changes his hair on special occasions. You tried to hold back admiring his brown curls shining in the dim light as you remembered he spoke to you.

“Hi.” A light smile appeared on your face.

“Do you come here often?”

You bit your lip, wondering if you two should have developed a script. But you wanted the interaction to be natural since it's the first time roleplaying like this. “No, I don’t. This is my first time.”

“Alone?” Miguel raised an eyebrow as you nodded, “Someone like you shouldn’t be alone on a night like this.”

Curious, you played with your straw by swirling it in your drink, “What's someone like me?”

“Gorgeous.”

He was eyeing your outfit. A simple black dress that gave much attention to your cleavage. Paired with small matching black heels. You weren't the type to wear this sort of thing but you wanted to try something new. And give your husband something to stare at.

Your poker face was impenetrable, despite wanting to forget everything and immediately go into the hotel room. “You're gonna have to do better than that.”

Miguel smirked before signaling to the bartender that he would pay for anything you wanted for the rest of the night. She gave you a look to make sure you agreed and you nodded. He motioned to the seat beside you and you invited him to stay.

“I’m Miguel.” You gave him yours and he said it as if he’s never said it before. A tingle shot through your spine. “May I ask why you decided to go to the bar tonight?”

“I wanted a drink.” You shrugged, “And I heard this hotel was nice.”

“It is.” He took a sip of his drink, eyes never far from yours.

“Oh? You’ve been here before?”

“Many times. I’ve always been satisfied with the service when I go here on business.”

You hum in delight, “So you’re a businessman?”

“Not quite.” He gives a soft chuckle, “I’m a scientist, that unfortunately has to go on business trips.”

You knew that part about him. He always hated going on trips because that meant he’d be away from you. “What do you specialize in?”

“Genetics.” You had to hold back in smiling hard, seeing his eyes light up at any mention of his work. The conversation was interrupted momentarily when the bartender asked what you wanted to eat. You and Miguel decided to share a sushi platter with an assortment of flavors each of you could try.

And your margarita was also gone, so you decided to get a daiquiri, wanting something a little bit sweeter to combat the sourness you had.

“So you’re a geneticist?” You asked, picking the conversation back up, “That’s fascinating. I’ve never met any geneticists. Especially ones as good-looking as you. Must be in your genes.”

A flash of your husband came out as Miguel’s eyes lowered at your terrible joke. Even you snorted at your words. “Funny. So I’m guessing your profession is a comedian.”

“No way.” You shook your head, “Not by a long shot.”

“Thank god.”

You gasped, pretending to be insulted while watching him hold back a laugh behind his straw. “Rude.”

“I’m just saying. I wouldn’t have high hopes in your career after that joke.”

The air was light and comfortable. Any semblance of nervousness you had previously faded away. That could've just been the alcohol though.

“So since you specialize in genetics, you know all the good stuff. Punnett squares, why people with blue eyes are rare, that sort of thing.”

Miguel nodded, “Usually we're able to find all of your genetic markings through your blood.”

“I'm not scared of getting my blood drawn.” You confidently say, “You think you'd find anything good in my genes?”

He hums in thought, moving closer to slide his hand up your bare forearm, placing his thumb between your arm and bicep. His touch was warm, almost burning your skin up. “Maybe. As long as you hold still.”

“Only if you're gentle.” You let out a low sigh. Your husband staring directly into your eyes, rubbing his thumb against your skin. You're so close to fast-forwarding this date and getting in his pants.

It was to your luck that the food came, causing you and him to part so you could dine in. Husband mode came back as he handed you the wasabi. Your lips curled, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of it when he accidentally put a huge smear on his roll, eating it whole. You pictured his eyes tearing up and his face scrunching up was hilarious.

“You don't like wasabi?”

Miguel’s head shook with disdain, “Not a fan. It's too hot for my tastes.”

“That's because you put too much on there when you shouldn’t have-” You immediately shut your lips, trying to fix your words. “I mean, plenty of people put a lot on there. It’s a common mistake.”

He ignored your slip up, “Then can you show me how much is adequate for me?”

“Of course.” You took a little piece using your chopsticks, placing it on his sushi roll as if it were delicate. You watched as he ate the piece, shoulders lowered in satisfaction. “See, not that hot right?”

“Not at all.” He then asked about your job which you proceeded to describe as boring. Not as exciting as his geneticist one. While you did so, Miguel kept showing his husband side, making sure you had your fill. As he listened intently. The stranger façade started to fade as you two were starting to act like a married couple again. You’re sure anyone from a mile away could see it.

But you didn’t care. You were full, mind a little clouded from the alcohol and the night was winding down. The time on your phone was almost eleven at night.

Miguel slipped his black card to the bartender, paying for the meal and drinks. You gazed at his form, not believing that you were married to this man.

“Do you have a ride home?” He asked. You knew he made arrangements to book a room at the hotel, but knowing him he’d wanted to make sure the date ended on a satisfying note.

“I’m looking at it.”

His eyes went wide at the flirtatious line for a moment. “Bold, are we?”

“Maybe.” Your playful smirk drew him closer as he leaned into your ear.

“You can ride me in our room.”

You two sped walk towards the elevator. Miguel’s finger repeatedly pressed the down button to make it go faster. Your body was hot, breathing speeding up as you couldn’t hold on much longer. You never knew how slow elevators were when its doors creaked open. The two of you rushed inside and once it was closed, were immediately on each other.

Hot breaths, messy kisses, and hands groping every single part of your bodies filled the space. The cold steel wall was felt on your back as Miguel trapped you, his hard body pressed against your own. He hiked up your leg to wrap around his waist while sucking on your neck. Creating a few marks on your skin.

The dings from the elevator going up were the only thing keeping you together. Otherwise, you were sure he was going to fuck you inside.

“Wait.” Miguel parted, his face stained from your lipstick, hair messy from the exchange. “Do you have your ring?”

You nodded, getting it from your purse. Before you could put it on, he did it for you, slipping it through your ring finger where it belonged. He grabbed his own from his pocket, before slipping it on.

“That’s better.”

Just in time, the elevator stopped on your floor. Miguel picked you up with ease and dashed to the room to continue where you left off.

[elronds-meleth-nin]

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

I heard a song and one of the lines got stuck in my head, so here's a fic. (If you're curious, it was "Figure You Out" by VOILÀ.) No idea why, but Thranduil just felt perfect for this.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Thranduil x Reader

[A/N: This is mostly just fluff, but there's some innuendo, so... 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, Elf x Human romance, mutual pining, idiots in love, Thranduil being dramatic, fake betrothal speedrun, Thranduil being soft for one (1) person only, protective Thranduil, Human!Reader has been adopted by elf who had no idea what he was getting into and Thranduil thinks he's an idiot, mild innuendo.

~*~

My mind wandered during my guard shift. Given that nothing ever penetrated this deep into the realm without the king's consent, the risk of allowing my focus to roam among my busy thoughts was minimal. The night air was brisk as I sat on one corner of the king's balcony with my bow laid across my lap.

Normally, the night air was soothing, but at that moment, all I could think about was how different everything would be soon. There would be no more extravagant views of the stars framed by elaborately gilded windows, no more training with my bow, no more front row seats to royal audiences, and - the worst of all - no more late night conversations when King Thranduil grew weary of his work.

I'd taken those things for granted. Oh, I hadn't squandered my time once I'd become one of his guards, by any means, but now that I might be forced to give up that position sooner than I'd anticipated, a list of regrets seemed to be cycling endlessly in my mind's eye. One that caused me the most pain was that I would very soon no longer be the recipient of his majesty's secret smirks when something we'd discussed privately occurred in his court.

The sound of a quill scratching away on parchment within the king's study ceased abruptly, but not even the anticipation of a quiet, intimate talk with him could lift my spirits. Not after the news I'd had that morning.

The swish of a cloak being removed was followed by unhurried footsteps toward the balcony, and then he was there beside me. The King of the Woodland Realm stood less than a few feet from me in all his finery, save the little circlet that usually rested upon his brow. He tended not to wear it when he retired to his chambers for the evening, choosing instead to lay it atop a book of poetry which resided permanently on his desk.

"On a lovely, cloudless night such as this, what cause would a newly-engaged lady have to look so forlorn?" The smooth, regal voice of my liege met my ears, and under any other circumstances, I might have scrambled to my feet to bow before him, as was his due. All I could muster, however, was a quiet, sincere apology over my shoulder as I remained seated on the balcony. I could feel his keen, pale blue eyes on me as I set my bow aside and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, dear. Is he that repulsive?"

"Not physically, but...all he seems to see is himself. I am perfectly aware that the betrothal wasn't either of our choices, but he could at least pretend that he's interested when our parents are nowhere to be seen." I was aware that I sounded ungrateful, but just because I was a mortal woman in a realm of Elves didn't mean that I had to like it when I was constantly looked down upon by others.

One of the few people who never gave me the impression that he thought less of me took a seat beside me in robes much too elegant for anything less than a perfectly padded chair to touch.

"Have you spoken with your guardian - apologies, your father - about your fears?" Instead of sounding judgmental, Thranduil's voice held only softness - a rarity, to be sure, but such a tone was more common when he conversed with me than with anyone else. I nodded my head as I recalled the cold aloofness in my adoptive father's voice as he'd dismissed both me and my protests.

"He seemed more concerned with maintaining the status associated with his name than with some silly little mortal's concerns." I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, I really did, but the sharp edge that crept in made me cringe a bit. "After all, who am I to complain when he took me in? My life could have been over before it had even truly begun. He could just as easily have left me to die in the ruins of our burning village and adopted an Elfling instead. I...owe him for all that he has done."

One of Thranduil's hands rested lightly on my shoulder, coaxing me to face him. My eyes met his, and his free hand laid over my wrist. The warm weight of his palm covering my pulse made my heart flutter in my chest.

"Is that what he told you?" When I stammered about it being nothing more than the truth, he shook his head while stormclouds gathered in his expression. "What foul words of comfort from one who claims to care for you."

To that, I had no response. Naturally, several statements sprung to the tip of my tongue - defenses for my father's actions - but I swallowed them all down when my king's gaze warned me that he would tolerate no such excuses.

"Remind me, mellon-nin, how long have you served in my guard?"

"Twelve years and a few months, sire."

"And in all of our many conversations, have I ever given you any reason to doubt that I value you as highly as any other in my kingdom? After that first fortnight, when you were terrified of making a mistake, have you ever felt out of place because of your mortality?"

The memory of that fateful night drew a smile to my lips.

"No, mellon-nin. That rather thorough tongue-lashing you meted out made your stance quite clear to all in the palace," I murmured allowing myself the small liberty of turning my hand beneath his and threading our fingers together.

The guards he'd berated for their rudeness and bigotry had practically fled the throne room when he was finished with them. After that night, he'd ordered that whenever I was on duty, I would be assigned to his personal detail.

"Then, what cause have you to believe that I would tolerate anyone treating you so poorly anywhere else in my domain?"

"This is different–"

"How? Enlighten me," the king ordered giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Father has the right to demand that I repay him for the time he has spent on me," I hedged, but Thranduil shook his head.

"Just because he raised you, that does not mean that he was unaware of what he was choosing. He may not have known the full extent of the demands made of a parent, but that was not the fault of the innocent babe he rescued." He sounded so calm, so casual about his assertions that I could do no more than blink as he spoke. "I do not expect Legolas to sacrifice his happiness to satisfy some imagined debt incurred at his birth, nor should your guardian make such ludicrous demands of you."

We sat quietly for a moment, side-by-side and hand-in-hand beneath the moonlight before words began flowing from my mouth almost without my consent.

"He's an ass, you know, the man to whom I have been promised. Nothing brings him greater pleasure than a mirror, and nothing strains him more than remembering a preference held by someone other than himself," I murmured feeling as though this confession of my unkind thoughts about the Ellon would give me some measure of comfort beyond another's commiseration. "Six different times he has insisted that he knows my favorite flower, and six times have I received something completely different. He claims that I keep changing my answer, but, truly, I have given the same response every time."

"He chooses not to listen," Thranduil muttered almost to himself.

"Quite correct, aran-nin. He is dismissive...practically ignores me when we are in the same room..."

"Had he been listening, he undoubtedly would have heard your scathingly pointed sighs, not unlike those which you direct toward any who insult your king in the throne room," he teased, and a huff of laughter bubbled out of me. "I shall have you know that I enjoy those little sighs. They convey a great deal about the receiver's lack of intelligence and manners, whilst simultaneously broadcasting that you would like nothing more than to drag them from the gates by the scruff of their neck. Quite effective, do you not agree?"

"Oh, yes, mellon. As I recall, you've allowed me to do just that on several occasions," I said glancing over at him. The answering sparkle in his eyes coupled with the wicked little smirk adorning his lips made my heart thud faster in my chest.

"And I reveled in every second of their humiliation at your beautiful hands," Thranduil practically purred in satisfaction at the memories, but I sobered rather quickly as I recalled the reason I was so down in the first place. He must've seen my smile slip. "Forgive me, I was certain that you enjoyed dragging witless rats from my sight...?"

"I do...rather, I did." The correction was small, but he pounced upon it immediately. The hand that had been on my shoulder grasped my chin and forced me to look back up at him. He didn't need to say a word. The question floated between us unasked, yet requiring an answer. "My betrothed made it clear that he believed a guard was no proper wife. He has demanded that I resign my position here."

More seriously than he had all night, Thranduil gazed into my eyes.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to give up the station you fought so hard to attain for a man who cannot remember even the simplest of things about you?" I shook my head as hot, desperate tears filled my eyes. "Then tell me, what do you want? What desires fill your mind when you allow yourself to dream under cover of darkness?"

I most certainly could not give him the whole truth. I couldn't tell him that over the course of our acquaintance and friendship I had fallen in love with him. Nothing could ever come of my pathetic heartache. I was only a guard. A peasant. Peasants might fall in love with royalty, but they did not end up with them. That was not the way of the world.

"Love," I breathed instead. "I want to be loved for myself, not my father's position. I wish to be cared for and to care for another. I wish to remain a guard, a warrior for the Woodland Realm, and to be accepted as I am, not swept aside. Obviously, I am not without fault, but while I attempt to grow wiser and gain experience, I do not wish to be impeded or judged by someone who could never remember even the most basic facts about me. I...What I want is impossible."

A small, gentle smile crossed the king's lips, and an intense, burning desire to kiss him fought a war within me against my common sense. Thranduil could forgive much, but a lapse in judgment as severe as throwing myself at him? Never.

"Your presence here is proof that nothing is impossible. You are much easier to love than you have allowed yourself to believe." His deep, rumbling voice sounded at once comforting and sensual, which proved quite effective at helping me blink back my tears before they could even begin to fall. "When are you next due to meet with this unworthy cad?"

"Tomorrow. My father has invited both he and his parents to our home for the evening meal as it is my day without a shift." I was surprised at how steady my voice sounded after how vulnerable I'd just been. Strangely, though, I felt no shame in having allowed my friend to see my pain.

King Thranduil nodded his head pensively, brushing his thumb over my chin as he did so - why had he not yet released his grip? Not that I was going to complain, of course. Being this close to him, touching him, speaking with him in confidence...that was as close as I was ever going to get to him, and even that might soon be pulled from my grasp, so I savored every moment that I was afforded.

Neither of us had much more to say. Instead, the Elvenking slipped an arm around my waist and tugged me close enough to his side for me to lay my head on his shoulder. We sat in companionable silence until the time came for the guard change. Bidding me sweet dreams and a safe trip home, Thranduil dropped a soft kiss onto my hand and retreated back inside his rooms.

As usual, the guard who was to replace me gave me a raised eyebrow at my familiarity with someone so far above my station, and, as usual, I ignored him.

Sneaking to the stables on my way out, I plucked an apple from my coat pocket and headed to the gilded gates of the stall holding the king's mount. Slicing the fruit quickly in half with my dagger to delay my return home by a few extra seconds, I cooed gently to the large elk, stroking the soft fur on his muzzle as I offered him the treat.

"Who's a good boy? Hm? You are! Yes, you are," I praised as he gingerly bit into the first half of the bright red fruit, then the second. He was a gentle giant, in truth. Much of the kingdom supposed that he would be as prickly as his rider, but nothing could be further from reality. Firstly, the king was only short with those who deserved his ire. Secondly, the admittedly imposing elk upon which he rode hadn't a mean bone in his very large body. "Aww, you're never grumpy with me, are you, mellon-nin?"

He chuffed and snuffled, nuzzling gratefully into my caressing fingers as a 'thank you' for his treat. Even he would be a far superior companion for life than the idiot with whom I'd be forced to spend yet another pointless evening the next day...and perhaps the rest of my life.

"Don't worry, mellon, even if he makes me resign, I'll still find a way to sneak in and bring you extra apples." The pleased little snort he gave me drew a giggle from my lips, but I knew that soon the guard patrolling this section of the grounds would be here. I bid goodnight to my tall, fur-covered friend and set off on the path toward home with our secret intact.

Had I so much as bothered to glance back, I would've seen a familiar head of bright blond hair watching as I tugged the hood of my cloak over my head.

--

When I awoke the next day, it was still early morning. The lateness of my shift usually tired me out well enough that I slept for at least another hour or two, but after a few bleary blinks, I realized that I'd been awakened by voices.

Odd. My adoptive father did not usually entertain guests at this hour. Either something had happened, or today was destined to turn out rather strangely. As he hadn't bothered to come wake me, I gathered that there was no urgency in whatever had transpired. What was not in question, however, was the way my stomach growled as I tried to roll over and go back to sleep.

With a sigh of defeat, I climbed out of bed and dressed, even going so far as to tie my hair back in a quick braid since it looked as though it might rain. Thus, clothed and presentable, I cleaned my teeth and ventured from my bedroom in search of food.

The voices seemed to be coming from my destination, so it seemed as though I would get both sustenance and an answer to my curiosity all at the same time. A fortuitous turn for such a gray morning.

"...ere she is now." I was able to make out my father's voice as I intentionally stepped on the creaky board in the hallway. I wasn't as quiet as an Elf when I walked, but I still didn't like to appear as though I was eavesdropping or sneaking where I shouldn't be. When I stepped into the kitchen, I froze.

There in all his regal, perfectly-groomed glory was King Thranduil, sitting at our tiny wooden table.

What in the name of the Valar was the king doing in our kitchen?

"Aran-nin," I greeted him, bowing slightly less steadily than I might have if I'd been awake for more than a few minutes. A low, velvety chuckle floated around the space.

"Come now, meleth, you know there is no need for such formality," Thranduil crooned giving me a charming, mischievous smile as I straightened again, but that statement alone nearly shattered my poor tired mind.

He'd said 'meleth,' but...that meant 'love.' He'd never called me that before. And I still didn't know why he was in our kitchen.

Glancing between my king and my father, I tried silently to piece together what the hell was going on here. Thranduil must have seen my lack of progress in my eyes, because he continued as if this was all completely normal.

"Come, break your fast. Your guardian has been kind enough to make tea and lay out some provisions for us," he said standing and pulling out the chair directly beside him.

Almost without thinking, I did as he asked, and my heart thudded rapidly in my chest when he seated me as if we were at some lavish feast instead of around our small, wooden table. He acknowledged my hastily-murmured gratitude, then resumed his own seat with his usual flourish. The three of us ate quietly for a few moments, staunchly ignoring the fact that the king was in our tiny kitchen eating with us as casually as if he had always done so.

It was...pleasant. Strange, obviously, but much more enjoyable than my usual solitary morning meal.

"So, meleth-nin, would you like to tell him the good news, or should I?" Thranduil asked, and I looked up at him. Slightly more cognizant than before, I recognized the glint in his eyes that usually accompanied a desire for me to play along with whatever he said next. I could do that.

"I'm quite certain that it would be much more eloquent coming from you," I demurred, and I very pointedly avoided looking across the table at my father's reaction to whatever bit of theater my king had orchestrated. Less than a heartbeat later, I found my free hand firmly in Thranduil's grasp as he looked at my father.

"The betrothal you arranged for your ward is hereby declared invalid by order of the king," he said, and the stunned expression on my father's face was worth every moment of confusion I'd experienced that morning. He took a moment to gather himself before clearing his throat and looking between us in askance.

"If it is not too presumptuous, sire, may I ask why you have done this? Her betrothal to–"

"That engagement was no more than a farce. We meant to announce it earlier, but with how busy I've been attending to my royal duties, I fear I have been remiss." The king cut him off, and the indignation in my father's eyes gave me a sick sort of pleasure. "You see, your ward is not available for the suitor you preferred, because she has already accepted my own marriage proposal."

Oh. So, that was what he had in mind. A faux betrothal. Somehow, that was both intensely flattering and a knife to my chest.

The announcement worked to perfection, though. My father looked as though he'd been punched soundly in the face.

"You...?" He blinked and made a second attempt at speech. "Why would a king want her?"

Thranduil's head tilted in a manner I recognized as indicative of the imminent rise of his temper.

"Why does a king desire anything? Tell me, why should a king not desire a worthy queen for his realm?" He asked, and my father caught up rather rapidly with the realization that he'd said the wrong thing. Thranduil looked back over at me as he lifted my hand to his lips. "Why should an Ellon not marry the one whom he loves?"

Ow. Those were the exact words I'd longed to hear from him for so many years, but to hear them now knowing that they were all an act...

"And why should I not wish to marry the Elf with whom I have grown so close over my many years of guard duty?" How far he intended to carry this fiction, I didn't know, but I could play along for now. I could hide the pain.

"I...Congratulations," my father stammered hesitantly, but he was no longer relevant. Not now.

"Thank you," the king said without taking his eyes off of me. "Meleth, I believe it is time for you to live in the palace. It will be your home once we are married, and if you are prepared, I can take you back with me. My mount is outside."

"Of course, but I shall need a few moments to pack–"

"Nonsense. You needn't do such menial work. You are to be my queen. I have already arranged for your belongings to be brought to you this evening. For now, you need only bring yourself and a riding cloak," he insisted with a warm smile.

"Might it not be simpler, my king, if I were to save you the trouble of taking her with you? I could escort her to the palace myself this evening so that you needn't be burdened by sharing your mount," my father said, and the blush that sent my cheeks burning at the thought of the pair of us riding together atop his elk was automatic. No acting required.

I prayed that Thranduil was unaware of how drastically he affected me, even within my own imagination.

"Bringing my queen to the palace is my responsibility and privilege. And, if you shall forgive me for saying so aloud outside of the solitude of our marital chambers, meleth-nin, I view the opportunity to feel you in my arms with great anticipation," the king said turning my hand over gently and placing a slow, sensual kiss right over my racing pulse. My breath caught in my throat at the hunger in his eyes. His lips lingered a few beats longer than I expected, only pulling away when my father cleared his throat pointedly. "My apologies. In the presence of such beauty, I find that I am transported into the realm of fantasy."

Thranduil's words did not match his expression. He was an Ellon who found vast satisfaction in playing those around him like an orchestra. He wasn't sorry at all.

"As much as I adore seeing you like this, my darling king, I do hope you will be more discreet while holding court," I teased, but his smirk only grew.

"When my queen is so breathtaking? Never." If it wasn't for the disgustingly sexy wink he tossed me, I'd have thought he was laying his act on a bit thick. As it was, though, he seemed to be staying in character quite effortlessly. For my part, I was one shaky breath away from giggling like a brainless idiot, or bursting out in tears because of the simple fact that this was all an act.

Ducking my head in what I hoped was a passable semblance of bashfulness, I tried to steady my breathing.

"I...trust that you still plan to give up your position in the guard?" My eyes flicked up and met my father's. There was something in his expression - disbelief, confusion, suspicion - that I couldn't quite place.

His obvious lack of trust after all these years angered me.

With the sweetest smile that I could muster, I tilted my head curiously.

"Not at all. A queen must be willing to fight for - and alongside - her people if she expects them to fight for her in return. Loyalty must be earned; it is not a gift to which one is entitled." Thranduil gave my fingers a gentle, supportive squeeze. "Surely, after your many years as a warrior, you of all people understand how crucial it is to inspire loyalty in those whom you command?"

He couldn't protest. When Thranduil said nothing, giving him neither a change of subject nor an opportunity to dodge the question, my father stammered about his question being a foolish one and about the change in suitors being so sudden.

Almost as soon as we stepped outside, the king's elk snuffled happily. He walked over to us, but to my surprise, instead of vying for Thranduil's attention, he made a beeline for me. Without thought, I patted his muzzle and ran my fingers down his neck. Snuffling lower, as if he knew I usually kept his apples in my pockets, he looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mellon, I don't hav–" I was silenced by a large, gentle hand landing on my shoulder.

In my king's grasp was a bright, ripe, red apple. The same kind I usually smuggled out of the larder as a treat for my furry friend. He'd already sliced it in half - when had he even found the time?

"Thank you, but how did you...?"

"Nothing happens in my realm but I know of it," he whispered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my scalp.

Choosing to temporarily ignore the implications of his statement, I accepted the apple and fed it to his elk. After a moment, Thranduil moved nearly soundlessly back toward my father.

"Ah, before I forget, this is for your ward's former suitor," he said pulling an envelope with the royal seal from his pocket. "Please convey to him that if the contents raise more questions than answers, he is most welcome to see the palace healers about his obviously failing memory."

With his cloak swishing behind him, Thranduil swept back over to me and helped me onto his mount's back. Once he was seated behind me with an arm wrapped firmly around my middle, it all sank in.

This might be an act for my father, but this was happening. I was really riding toward the palace with my king's chest pressing against my back. The guards who manned the gate would see us. Any who encountered us would bear witness to the king's act. How far did he mean to take this?

Surely, he wouldn't actually marry me just to get me away from one unsuitable Ellon? And when he did eventually end this ruse, what then? Would I be forced to go home with my tail tucked between my legs?

When we were around the halfway point in our journey - far enough from both my home and the palace that I was certain we wouldn't be observed - I asked if we could stop for a moment. Despite his confusion, Thranduil gave the command, and his elk trotted to a graceful stop. Without waiting for assistance, I slid off the saddle and landed rather hard on my feet.

Ignoring the new pain in my ankles and the ache that the loss of Thranduil's steadying grip left in my chest, I took a few steps and tried to slow my breathing. The sound of my traveling companion landing infinitely more gently than I had met my ears along with a concerned call of my name, but I just shook my head.

"Are you hurt, meleth?" He asked, and I swallowed heavily.

"No, but...my king–"

"You are perfectly allowed to call me by my name. After all, we are betrothed. It would not do for our subjects to see us behaving as if no love exists between us," he said as he patted his elk's neck, and a pang of hurt wound through my heart. Thranduil was saying all the right words, but it was an act. There were no longer any witnesses. There was no longer anyone to watch as my heart broke.

"Why are you doing this?" At the pain in my voice, confusion and concern washed over his features.

"Whatever do you mean?" The Elvenking asked stepping away from his elk's side. His cloak billowed around him, and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees at the sheer majesty of the figure he presented. All it did, though, was reinforce what I already knew: Thranduil was not for me.

"Please, do not misunderstand, I am grateful that you have saved me from such an unfortunate match. However, you needn't spare my feelings by pretending to love me. There is no need to waste your precious time playacting, mellon-nin."

"'Pretending'?" The word escaped him as a harsh, dangerous whisper. Oh dear. I'd seen the king's rage before, but never had his icy fury been turned upon me. Despite the outrage in his tone, his next words were at the same hushed volume as before. "'Playacting'? What do you take me for?"

I could see why Prince Legolas had insisted that raised voices were preferable to the fear that his father's cool, piercing anger inspired. I wasn't afraid, but I was acutely aware of the severity of his emotions. I wasn't intentionally trying to anger him, but I needed him to know how close he'd come to breaking me beyond repair. Before I could answer, he advanced another step and continued.

"And, pray tell, what am I, in your estimation? Cruel? Unforgiving? Demanding? Judgmental?" His eyes flashed with something akin to pain. "Perhaps your censure is not based upon personality, but upon appearance."

The glamour he kept constantly in place over his scar melted away.

"Is this the source of your misgivings? Am I too ugly for you to accept, even as a king?"

"You know that's not true," I snapped, with an edge of warning in my voice, recalling the first time I'd seen him without the glamour.

A few months after my appointment to the king's guard, I was given a jar of pain-dulling ointment by one of the healers to pass on to the king. I'd delivered it, of course, but when I'd been hesitant to leave him, going so far as to ask if he was injured, he'd locked the door and showed me what the great serpents of the north had done to him. Thranduil admitted later that he'd intended to frighten me that night, but all I'd done was ask if he needed help applying the medicine. Once he realized I thought no less of him for his injury, he'd let me.

Yet he had the gall to stand before me and accuse me of being shallow? Had he learned nothing about me over the years?

"Then answer the question," Thranduil bit out quietly. "What exactly do you take me for?"

"A king," I breathed looking up into his eyes. Confusion mingled with his anger. "Peasants may fall in love with royalty, but they are not offered the luxury of marrying them. Kings do not give lowly guards a second thought, even if they afford them the title of 'friend,' so I will ask you again, sire: Why are you doing this? Why are you acting as though hope abounds for my doomed heart where none has ever existed?"

His brow smoothed, his lips parted a fraction, and his glamour slipped silently back into place as he processed what I'd said. Oh, Valar, what I'd said! I'd confessed to loving the king!

Comprehension melted his anger away into nothingness. Instead, he moved within a single step of me, lifting one of his large, graceful hands to caress my cheek.

"You truly do not know?" I couldn't even bring myself to answer as I leaned into Thranduil's touch. This might be the last chance to do so after what I'd just admitted. He'd dismissed guards in the past for much less severe transgressions. "When we spoke last night, you told me that you desired to be loved - not by the whole of the Woodland Realm as I believe you deserve, but by one person. The Ellon your father chose for you certainly could not do that when remembering something as small as your favorite flower caused him such strain."

Low and gentle, his voice trickled over my ears as smoothly as honey. He...He didn't sound angry, anymore. Why wasn't he enraged that someone like me had dared to cross the more-than-generous boundary of friendship that he'd allowed me?

"My king–"

"Thandruil," he corrected, but there was no real bite to his words despite having to repeat himself again. He never repeated himself, yet this morning alone he'd done so twice. "You adore the blue wildflowers that grow along our western borders, but if you smell them for too long, they make you sneeze. During the summer, you set them on the sill in your room and keep the window open so that you might enjoy them without discomfort."

I blinked in surprise. I could vaguely remember a conversation years ago where I'd mentioned the flowers, but it was such a trivial thing that I was quite certain it would've been forgotten by morning. After all, what I did with flowers had no bearing on the fate of the kingdom.

"You prefer your tea sweet but not overly so. When you believe it might rain, you take the precaution of braiding your hair so that the humidity will not render it impossible to untangle when you return home."

The Elvenking began slowly, allowing each small fact that he'd observed about me to sink in along with the realization that he'd favored me with his attention frequently enough to accrue them.

"Your confidence with daggers is low, but with a bow, you are as bold and graceful as any skilled Elleth warrior. When I express my anger at some wretched fool in my court, you often struggle to suppress your laughter at how close they come to wetting themselves in the throne room - do not deny it. Your body gives you away each and every time."

Had he truly seen so much of me during my service to him?

"When your temper is tested, there is a small line that appears just here," he touched a spot between my brows, "that brings me great consternation. On the one hand, I wish to give you my sword so that you may more easily remove the head of whomever has dared incur your wrath, but on the other, I wish to soothe your frustrations with my words, my lips, my body, whatever you will allow–"

"Thranduil–" His name fell from me as no more than a whisper. The leaves on the trees surrounding the path rustled in the breeze, but the Elvenking could not be stopped.

"Your free time is often spent reading. Once a week before you return home, you sneak out to the stables and feed my elk an extra apple, because you find him sweet-tempered. When you laugh, your eyes sparkle brighter than any star ever could, and you steal the breath from my chest each time you look at me."

My vision blurred, and only when my king's thumbs brushed tears from my cheeks did I realize that I was crying. I'd loved him for so long that this felt as surreal as a dream.

"You said that you wish to be loved, meleth-nin. To answer your question, I am doing this because I can give you exactly what you desire. I could love you with my eyes closed, because I have done so with them open since the day you were assigned to my guard."

Thranduil leaned closer, freezing but a hair's breadth from my lips.

"If you do not feel the same, we can remain friends, but if there is the slightest chance that you could find happiness by my side, then marry me. Be my queen. I am yours." His whispered promise was filled with so much tenderness and hope that my restraint snapped, and I closed the distance between our mouths.

My fingers gripped his robes in an attempt to ground myself, but this heady feeling of being wanted - being loved - robbed me of all coherent thought. There was only the feeling of gentle hands drawing me close by my waist and the nape of my neck. Only soft lips kissing me with the skill of thousands of years' worth of experience. Only a king claiming his queen's heart.

There was only love.

~*~

mellon-nin = my friend

aran-nin = my king

meleth-nin = my love

[ycseniarivera]

PICKING UP FROM HERE • @lcrcmcrie

People keep wanting to make the world a better place for all, and it's something that I'm really excited about. It is! I feel like such a movie nerd sometimes because I'm always at Stubs or watching Netflix when I'm not working. They're so family friendly! And even if you're not at the age they're usually aimed at, it's still really nice to watch. And when you do to realize the adult joke when you're an actual adult, things just seem to different! That's good to hear that you're all settled back in nicely. Christmas is so close, I can almost taste it. Have you and your daughter picked out a sweater yet for this weekend?

[ellecdc]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFMbHSqg/

I talk like this and people like to make fun of it because of it

Can I request for marauders to defend me and pampering me afterwards. Please, thanks

okay, first of all: people make fun of you? - what are their names? where do they live? tell them I wanna talk..... secondly: thank you for your quick requests after my post! you're my hero <3

poly!wolfstar x reader who has a distinct accent (reader's gender not specified)

CW: bullying, making fun of someone's dialect/speech, swearing, pet names.

You knew there was a chance that the laughter was not at your expense at all. Perhaps they were actually laughing at what you said, not how you said it. Or, perhaps they hadn't even been listening to you at all. But your throat still constricted painfully when you heard the girls a few seats down the table in the Great Hall from you start laughing after you interjected in your boyfriends' conversation.

The girls had been particularly catty with you before, though you weren't entirely sure why; perhaps it was because you were dating two of the most popular boys in school, perhaps it was because you were different, or perhaps it was because that's just the kind of people they were.

You'd heard them make comments about your accent before, and though it was a bit of an insecurity of yours, you tried to let it slide off of your back.

You just didn't understand what the big deal was - especially considering you were attending school in the United Kingdom for heaven's sake; if you drive 30 minutes in any direction, the accent of that region is going to be different!

People in England speak English with a variation of a British accent; people in North America speak English with a variation of an American accent; people in Ireland speak English with an Irish accent; and people from your mother country speak English with their own accent too!

So why was it you who was teased for your inflection?

"You okay, Y/N?" Peter asked you quietly from his place across from you. He may as well have shouted it, however, as the sound of your name with the company of any concern acted like a siren call for your two boyfriends, both of whom immediately dropped their conversation with Marlene and James to turn to you.

"What is it, dolly?" Sirius asked immediately, noticing the slight shine of your eyes. You tried to smile at him and shake your head; you did not want to make a big deal out of this.

"Dovey," Remus chided as he gently nudged you with his elbow. "What's the matter?"

Your eyes inadvertently flit to the girls down the table before you turned back to your boyfriends and Sirius' eyes darkened.

"Did they say something to you?" He asked gruffly.

"No! No, please, I'm fine." You begged.

The sound of voices mimicking your pronunciation permeated the air as they repeated your words.

"Oi!" Remus called harshly - so completely unlike his usual calm demeanour.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sirius added.

The girls, not showing any signs of shame waved the boys off "oh come on, it was just a joke! Y/N knows that."

"You're right, you are a fucking joke." Sirius spat as he stood from the table and gathered his book bag. "Come on dollface, we're leaving."

Remus stood as well and helped you from your place at the table. Your face was so hot from embarrassment and the blood rushing to your head left a ringing in your ears. As you left the hall, you failed to notice the shouting from James, Marlene and the others in your defence.

The first few tears fell as you were ushered to Gryffindor tower. Neither boy said anything as you walked - Sirius clearly trying to shake off his rage for your benefit, and Remus keeping a steadying hand on the small of your back the whole way there.

By the time you got to the boys dorm, Sirius let out a shuddering breath as he dropped his bag and turned to you as he opened his arms.

"Come 'ere sweets." he called to you, and you immediately fell into his waiting embrace.

Remus followed up behind you and soon, you were in the middle of a Sirius-Remus sandwich as they rubbed soothingly at your sides and peppered kisses on your head.

"You know they're wankers, right?" Remus finally asked.

You snorted at him before nodding against Sirius' chest.

"We love your voice, and your accent, and your jokes. We can't get enough of it, baby." Sirius added.

"Stop." You moaned.

"It's true!" Remus interjected, before Sirius continued.

"Honest, I almost told James to shut his fucking mouth 'cause I couldn't hear my sweet lovie over all of his yapping. You're always on me about being rude, though, so I bit my tongue. You're welcome."

You chuckled at that, and you swore could feel both boys smile above you.

"There you are; I missed that sound." Remus said, punctuated by a kiss to your temple.

"I have some studying to do, but I was wondering if you could read my textbook to me while I took notes?" Sirius asked you. You looked up expecting to see a smirk on his face but were surprised to see a faint blush dusting his cheeks and a shy smile on his mouth.

"Wait, really?" You asked incredulously.

He huffed a laugh but held strong. "Yes, really! I wasn't kidding; I love the sound of your voice."

"Maybe later you can read my novel to me too?" Remus asked shyly from behind you.

You couldn't help but laugh at the two of them. Whether they were just appeasing you or not, you couldn't help but admit the sound of you reading to them for the rest of the afternoon sounded really nice.

[bamfkeeper]

Anger.

RQ: 'Heard that ur taking requests ! Love your work and the writing is great ! I was wondering if you could do reader x Kurt where reader is opposite of Kurt. Anger issues less understanding etc and has a mutation where they have two sets of wings and eyes ? So like really arch angel type of stuff but a real sinner. Being the other half then Kurt <3 have a great day and remember to drink water !' - @toxic-chainsaw-666

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader // Warnings: None

A/N: I was actually really happy to write this rq because I tend to have some anger problems irl. I've always imagined how he'd be with someone who's less understanding and more hostile than him, so this was really fun! Written as a collection of hcs.

Kurt is known as being the sweetheart of the group of X-Men, his heart of gold and aversion to violence, (unless absolutely necessary), makes him well liked by everyone. There isn't a single mutant who doesn't like to strike up conversation with him, he makes everyone feel welcome.

That's why when he began dating you...it rose a few eyebrows.

Your reputation was quite the opposite. Hot-headed, short tempered, aggressive...to name a few.

You were not very approachable, sometimes vulgar, and you had a habit of snapping at people before you spoke civilly.

Kurt tried his approach, your first instinct was to yell, but he just seemed so...sweet, so you found yourself holding back. His presence felt better than everyone else's, no judgement in his eyes.

He'd have a knack of calming you down too, or helping you cool off better than other people might. His presence helps your nerves a lot.

When you get angry, your appearance shows your extra features, which often makes others wary and scared. Kurt is never really bothered, he just does what he can to help soothe you.

He doesn't want you to be ashamed of yourself, he never makes you feel bad for being the way you are, he knows you can't help it. But he does try to guide you into reacting to things a bit better, just so you don't get yourself into trouble.

He would never try to change who you are though, he respects you enough to know that.

You both had very different ways of reacting to situations, your personalities were black and white, but somehow mixed together okay. You balanced one another out.

Sometimes you worry about religious differences too, since you feel like a sinner a lot, because you are, and Kurt's Catholicism is very important to him. He comforts you though, he offers support and guidance for you.

If someone is bad to him, he will forgive and forget. You will not. You will make sure that person apologizes, even if you have to hold them up by their collar and force them to.

Your first instinct is to fight or choose a physical way to solve a problem, Kurt tends to try to talk things out instead. You two vary that way, but it's a funny combination to see.

"Liebling, no need for such violence, they bumped into me by accident," Kurt says gently after you threaten to hurt someone quite graphically.

You scowl back and cross your arms, while Kurt worries about your impulsivity, he does find your passion quite endearing, even if he doesn't agree with your methods.

You're the one to ask a food worker for no pickles on Kurt's order while he stays behind you shyly.

He's the one who often apologizes for your attitude, but also uses you as a back up, he gains confidence because of you. He knows you always have his back no matter what. You are his 'scary dog privilege.'

You both love one another despite the obvious differences you have. You both bring out the best in one another, and you support the other's weakness.

Opposites certainly attract.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[hazelnutsforellie]

sex, drugs, etc. | e. williams ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

PAIRING— dealer!ellie williams x fem!reader

SUMMARY— your dealer and friend, ellie, becomes jealous when she learns you you were around someone she doesn't want near you.

WARNINGS— smut [18+], language, mention of depression, sexual tension, jealous/protective ellie, shy reader, marijuana use, mutual pining, sex while high, switch!ellie, bottom!reader, fingering (r rec), oral (e rec), thigh riding, scissoring, praise, pet names (baby, pretty girl, etc.), choking, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, multi-orgasm [2], ellie is slightly toxic but i like it, not proofread.

WC— 6.5k ...i got carried away

AUTHOR'S NOTE— i wanted to stray away from doing modern!ellie and make it more difficult for myself?? lmfao. pls feel free to send requests and/or feedback!! anyway stream sex, drugs, etc. by beach weather i'm too lazy to get a link xx

special tags for jen and eden (@evanpetersluver / @kurosaaki) mwah enjoy ♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A sigh blew from your nose as you watched Dina pass the blunt to her friend Jason, your right knee bouncing repeatedly. You were sitting on Dina's bed in her bedroom, smoking with her and three of her friends, secretly wishing you could be with Ellie sooner. You weren't too familiar with Dina's crew. Sure, you knew them, but you weren't close with them like you were with Ellie and Dina. You didn't mind them, though.

"Oh, I'm good," you said, holding your hand out to reject the blunt that Jason was offering to you. You had already taken a few hits, and you could feel the leftover burn in your throat from the smoke. "I'm meeting up with Ellie soon."

Ellie, your dealer, always smokes you up with her personal stash whenever you visit her, and you did not want to show up too stoned.

You were a shy girl that Ellie practically took under her wing. Because of Ellie's personality, you were able to slightly break out of your shell and meet more people like yourself that you enjoyed being around, such as Dina. Dina and Ellie were friends, mainly because Dina buys from her, but they weren't as close as Ellie was with you.

You had been friends with Ellie for a short while. After you became friends, you opened up during a session that you were going through a tough breakup, and were having trouble with confidence. Ellie helped you regain that confidence, frequently reminding you that you were special.

Both of you knew your friendship was flirtatious, despite you wanting to deny it to yourself. Yes, you had a crush on your dealer, who then turned into your friend after she took a liking toward you. She thought you were sweet, cute, genuine, and more. Despite her cold persona, she was soft toward you. You were different, and despite knowing of said crush, Ellie ignored it.

"I just saw her earlier," Dina noted with a smile, taking a seat beside you on the edge of her bed. Ellie was off doing deliveries, and told you that you could go to her house at sunset. You listened as Dina's friends began making light conversation, talking about topics you weren't interested in. Then, you heard your name.

"Hm?" you hummed, raising your head to meet the eyes of Jason.

"You said you're seeing Ellie later, right?" He asked, to which you nodded, looking up at him while he sat in Dina's desk chair. Dina's friends were spread about the room, just having casual conversation. "I might stop by to reup, maybe you'll be there."

"Maybe," you nodded with a cute smile, not intending to come off in any way other than kind. You were quiet, but naturally flirtatious.

To your relief, you could see the sun beginning to pierce through Dina's bedroom window, insinuating that it was almost time for you to leave.

As you made your way to Ellie's front door, the snow crunching beneath your feet and your gentle humming was all that could be heard besides the sounds of the town. Your knuckles gently bounced off the metal door, your entire body shivering as the cool air was quickly consuming you.

The door opened to reveal none other than Ellie herself, her eyes meeting yours. You noted how the white reflection of the outdoors brightened her eyes. You could get lost in them any time, admiring the way they shine when the light hits them.

"Hey, perfect timing. I've got just enough for you," Ellie said with her usual smile that made your cheeks warm.

She opened the door wider to invite you inside, away from the brisk weather, to which you hurriedly accepted. Barely making it inside, you had already tracked snow just past the door before you could take your shoes off.

"Shit, I'm sorry," you sighed, kicking your boots off near the door. Ellie was only a foot away from you, and you could almost feel the heat radiating off her.

"Don't worry about it," Ellie waved it off, closing the door behind you before making her way over to her desk, where she already had her things ready to smoke with you. She collected her things, bringing them to the coffee table in front of her couch as you made yourself comfortable on it.

You knew the drill. Every time you buy from Ellie, you share one or two blunts and just enjoy each other's company.

"Here," Ellie quickly piped, grabbing a few blankets off the upper back part of the couch and covering you with them as you tucked them into every crevice you could. Ellie's simple gestures were a large portion of the reason why you gravitated toward her. The blankets were thin, but you were thankful that she had multiple.

Despite being fully aware of the weather, your stubborn self still left your place in jeans and a hoodie, and you were surprised that Ellie wasn't reprimanding you for risking a cold.

"I just got back from the store for wraps," Ellie explained as she pulled something from her back pocket, tossing enclosed blunt wraps you were about to use onto your lap as she sat beside you. "Can you open it for me?"

Ellie was lucky she found healthy plants at Eugene's to start her 'small business' in the first place during such apocalyptic times. Despite not particularly needing cash, Ellie liked trading for items she could keep or sell depending on what she needs. Her customers consist of mainly teenagers and young adults, the inhabitants of curious minds.

The older citizens of Jackson, particularly the older men, banded together to keep the town's smoke shop up and running instead of turning it into housing or a different shop. Surprisingly, they always seem to have a supply of wraps, the main popular items being cigars and cigarettes, to which Ellie would cringe at the smell when she would walk in.

You tore the package open as Ellie opened her baggie of weed, gently shaking it before pulling out a few nuggets. Your comfortable silence was soothing. You enjoyed Ellie's company, and you could feel your tensed shoulders beginning to relax the more you sat beside her.

Ellie had her elbows on her knees, manspreading to reach the coffee table. You watched as her slim fingers broke apart the nugs, her tongue poking out to wet her bottom lip in concentration. Witnessing such an act made you swallow, your eyes flickering back down to the two wraps in your hand.

"Here," you said, placing them on the coffee table beside the rest of her things.

"Should I roll two?" she asked, glancing over at you periodically as she began to gently crack open a wrap with her fingers. Having already smoked a bit prior, you figured you wouldn't need much, despite its effectiveness wearing off.

"I don't need much," you claimed, tightly wrapping the blankets around yourself. "I smoked a little while ago."

You couldn't see it, but Ellie's expression had completely faltered, curious as to who you were smoking with. Not that it was particularly her business.

"Oh, really? With who?" Ellie questioned nonchalantly as she began to pinch the weed into the wrap, having discarded the old tobacco from the wrap onto the coffee table.

"With Dina and her friends," you said with a shrug, picking at your cuticles subconsciously. Her eyes met yours easily, since you were already staring in her direction.

Ellie knew something you didn't. Earlier, when Ellie was selling to Dina, Dina mentioned something to her about you that unknowingly bothered Ellie.

Ellie didn't know how to ask you what 'her friends' meant, beginning to pinch the wrap closed. You knew what was coming next, watching as her tongue gently dipped onto the wrap to make it stick, her saliva binding it closed.

You seemed to have gotten lost in thought, mainly about her tongue, when she handed the blunt to you.

"No, you rolled," you shook your head, holding your hand out to reject her offer. It was a known practice that whoever rolls or packs gets first hit, but Ellie always tries to offer it to you first.

Ellie rolled her eyes playfully, lifting the blunt to her lips to firmly hold it while she cupped her hands around the end of it, sparking her lighter until the flame burned the tip a bright orange.

You watched Ellie's lips scrunch around the blunt as she pulled the smoke into her lungs, the tip burning brighter until it turned to ash. You wished you could just kiss her perfect, plump lips.

"I saw Dina earlier," she noted as she exhaled the smoke, offering the blunt to you. You gladly accepted, pinching it between your fingers.

"She mentioned that," you replied, lifting the blunt to your lips. "I told her I was coming to see you."

"Did she mention anything else?" Ellie's sudden question confused you. You wondered what else would she need to mention, let alone regarding Ellie.

You furrowed your brows in uncertainty, "What do you mean?"

You couldn't help it, but your intuition immediately jumped to a conclusion that was completely incorrect due to Ellie's curious, worried expression. Did something happen between them?

Sure, you had mentioned to Dina once or twice that you thought Ellie was attractive, but you never fully admitted to having feelings for her. You couldn't deny that you were an overthinker, trying to unravel Ellie's question and assume what she was thinking. You already had a leftover high when you arrived, and smoking more on top of it was a threat for overanalyzing.

Ellie was silent, wishing she just stayed quiet about the subject. She knew she had to say something, and she also knew that you could see through any lie she tried to tell you. Ellie was a good liar in general, but not with you. She rarely, if ever, had a reason to lie to you, no matter how big or small. There was no way out of it.

Dina did not like to admit that she enjoyed gossip, but she let Ellie in on a secret when she was buying from her. She told Ellie that her friend, Jason, had a plan to ask you out, unbeknownst to you. Ellie didn't like the thought at all, not because she hated the guy, but because she wanted you.

"Was Jason there?" Ellie asked, essentially ignoring your question. You were taken aback, a confused expression still plastered on your face.

"Yeah... why?" you inquired, taking another hit of the blunt before passing it back to her. Ellie accepted it from your fingers, refusing to make eye contact with you as she spoke. She was putting herself in a vulnerable position, potentially risking your friendship. She just couldn't hold herself back.

Ellie softly scoffed, too quiet for you to hear, and before she took another drag of the blunt, she muttered, "Of course he was."

Ellie's lips curled in disgust at the thought of Jason near you. Her jealousy was beginning to reveal itself, making you raise a brow and say, "He told me he might stop by. He heard me mention I was coming here."

"Oh, yeah, I'd love to see that fucker show up," Ellie sneered before shaking her head with a scoff. You were used to her language, but you couldn't ignore how genuinely angry she seemed. "He just bought from me the other day. Fucking bastard."

Before you could say anything, let alone think, she continued.

"I don't think you should hang around that guy," Ellie admitted flatly, taking another hit. The high was rushing straight to her head, allowing her to be more bold than usual.

You folded your hands in your lap, on top of the blankets, giving her a curious look. You wondered if she truly believed Jason was a bad guy, and you both knew that you would take her advice either way.

You had a lot of trust in Ellie, as she did with you. She helped pull you out of a rut and a peaceful fifty-fifty friendship emerged. She adored you, and often protected you, so her protective behavior was not a foreign thing for you.

"Why not?" you asked, starting to annoy yourself with your repetitive questions. You just wanted Ellie to spit it out, and thankfully she did.

"The jackass is into you," Ellie finally revealed, sneering at the thought of him trying to make a move on you. There was a moment of silence as you processed the new information, shrugging and barely shaking your head. You didn't care. You didn't like him back, but you had to admit it was validating.

"Does that bother you?"

Ellie was taken aback by your question. Her eyes slightly widened, eyebrows lifting ever so slightly as she passed you the blunt. Of course it bothered her, but she couldn't tell you that. Your soft, innocent voice was a pleasure to her ears. She just wanted to protect you, to claim you as her own, but what good was a depressed, helpless girl to a bright and innocent one?

"Well..." Ellie trailed off, breaking eye contact to watch your lips as you placed the blunt between them. You took another hit, nearly reaching your limit for the time being. Her eyes trailed back up to yours, which were focused on the end of the blunt as it burned. "I just don't like he's good enough for you."

"Oh... And why's that?" you probed, your eyebrows raising suggestively as you smoothly exhaled the smoke from your lungs.

Ellie sighed, leaning back against the couch with her legs remaining spread apart from her manspreading position. You felt yourself involuntarily clench around nothing, daydreaming how it would feel to sit on her lap, with her hands on your waist—

"You deserve someone... I don't know— Someone who would do anything for you. Get hurt to protect you. Make you smile, laugh. I don't know, I just don't see him doing that for you," Ellie rambled calmly, surprising you. "Not saying he doesn't want to, I wouldn't know. I just... ugh."

Ellie didn't know how to express her feelings, especially without revealing how she feels for you. She just couldn't admit to you that she wanted you for herself.

You tried to pay full attention to what she was saying, as well as her body language. You were hearing her, but you couldn't push away the indecent thoughts that were brewing. The weed wasn't helping whatsoever. The way she would use her hands as she spoke, the way she would frequently dart her tongue to wet her lips, it was getting to you.

Ellie did not realize that she was describing herself. All of the characteristics she listed had her name clearly plastered on them, in your opinion, at least.

"You're describing yourself," you murmured as you took another hit, making your own eyes slightly widen after realizing what you said. Ellie was taken aback once again, especially since you essentially called her perfect.

"What?" you laughed at Ellie's bewildered expression, your high making you giggly and smiley.

Ellie seemed relieved. Your words were music to her ears, a simple sentence that confirmed her hopes. There was something there between you, she knew that, and your words were a solid stamp of verification.

"Well... You don't have to worry, or anything," you assured as you watched Ellie take another hit, quickly becoming overheated from the layers of blankets wrapped around you. You began pushing them off your frame as you continued, "I don't like him. He's alright, but... no."

Ellie wanted to ask why, though she believed it would be pushing it. She didn't want to upset you, or make you think she was crazy.

There was still a small fact that was continuing to go unaddressed. Ellie's jealousy was as clear as crystal. Her feelings were growing just as clear, the more you thought about it. Why else would she care so much? Sure, her protective behavior was normal, but not the clear, snarky jealousy that dripped from Ellie's tongue when she sneered at the thought of him being around you.

You found it... alluring. You liked it, you had to admit. You couldn't take it. You were craving her contact, just for her to touch you. To kiss you. Oh, her lips. You wanted to know what they felt like on your own, on your skin, between your thighs. You could not focus on the conversation at hand, it was the entire reason you could feel yourself growing wet by each passing second.

"Well... that's good, then, huh?" Ellie's voice was deep, nearly making you squeeze your thighs together as you shifted in your spot so that you were facing her, while she remained in her relaxed manspreading position.

Ellie was doing no better, having the exact same thoughts as you. While you got lost in thought, her eyes danced around your face, back and forth from your lips to your hooded, pink-tinted eyes.

You couldn't stop the words from escaping your soft lips, allowing the weed to carelessly speak for you.

"Kiss me," you barely whispered, which forced her eyes to meet your own. Fuck, Ellie thought. Ellie did not even seem surprised by your words, she looked pleased. Your words were like a key, unlocking a door that Ellie thought would never open.

There was no need for you to say another word. Ellie's slim fingers found your waist, pulling you closer to her while you simultaneously grabbed both sides of her jaw, pulling her face closer to yours. You were pulling into one another, desperately wanting to your lips to meet. She was careful not to burn you with the ash of the blunt, still holding it between her fingers while she held onto you.

The kiss was just how you imagined it would be. Soft, warm, wet, full. You melted into her, your body weight holding her down as you leaned in. There was a spark of uncertainty, a sudden fear that you had just ruined your friendship, sobering you for a moment as you pulled away.

Your hands were still on her jaw, coddling her face as her hands remained on your waist, her slim fingers tightening around the cotton material of your hoodie.

Ellie's eyes darted from your lips to your eyes. When you didn't say anything, she could tell that you didn't want to stop, but that you wanted to be sure that she wanted you just as much as you wanted her.

Ellie used her grip on your waist as leverage to lift you onto her lap, silently assuring you that she wanted the same thing. She wanted you. Without another word, you wrapped your arms around her neck, capturing her lips with your own.

Her lips were almost as soft as yours, slightly chapped from her inability to stop nibbling on them. They met perfectly with yours at an even pace, confirming how good of a kisser you assumed she was, and you were thankful that your mouth wasn't dry considering how much you had smoked.

You relished in the feeling of her hands on your waist, finally knowing what it's like to be held by her. You could feel her grip slowly release, her cold fingertips sliding underneath the fabric, onto your skin. Ellie realized that you were only wearing a bra underneath when her fingers met your skin, letting out a heavy breath against your lips.

There was a reason behind it that you were way too embarrassed to admit. You often hoped that something would happen between you, a crush being a crush and all, and would either "forget" your shirt or bra under your sweater when you'd visit. Unbeknownst to you, Ellie could tell when you didn't wear a bra on certain days. Of course she did, though. How could she not? She takes every opportunity she can to admire you, bra or not.

You weren't as cold as you were earlier, your body warming with arousal. Ellie stopped reciprocating your kisses for a moment so you would pull away to meet her eyes, which were silently asking if she could take your hoodie off. Ellie was testing the waters, not wanting to be forceful with you unless she got the approval. God, she drove you mad in the best way possible.

You gave her a gentle nod, releasing your arms from the back of her neck. She placed the blunt between her lips, using both hands to pull the hoodie up your chest, discarding it beside her on the couch. She pinched the blunt, placing it back between her fingers and she let out a long breath, the smoke clouding your vision as she took in your appearance, quickly licking her bottom lip before grabbing your sides again, pulling you closer to her. Your lips slammed onto hers, your tongue tangling with hers before she quickly overpowered you.

Suddenly, her grip on your waist tightened and she lifted you off her, guiding you to stand. She followed suit, recapturing your lips with her own as she slowly led you toward her bed with a slight struggle, due to the two of you kicking off your shoes. The urgency was pitiful.

She guided you onto her bed, your head resting comfortably on her pillows as she straddled and towered over you, her lips never losing contact with yours. You were glued to each other, desperate for each other's touch. You tugged on her blue button down, and she quickly understood what you wanted.

Ellie tucked the half-smoked blunt between your lips, giving you a wink before sitting up to pull the article off her shoulders, discarding it so she was just left with a grey shirt and jeans.

Her hands then found your waist, catching you off guard by flipping you over so you were straddling her while she remained sitting up, her hands gilding down to your hips, then the hem of your jeans. Nothing needed to be said. Both of you understood what the other was thinking, how the other felt.

You pulled the blunt away from your lips, tilting your head up to exhale above Ellie's head. Ellie took the opportunity to attack your neck with her lips and tongue, the simple gestures causing your heat to twitch in anticipation.

Ellie began unbuttoning your jeans, hearing the zipper for a split second, then forcing them off your hips. You helped her discard them before you repositioned yourself onto her lap. Your thin panties rubbed her bare stomach, her shirt being pushed up to her chest due to the repositioning.

You held the blunt against her lips, waiting for her to accept it. She did, her eyes looking up at yours as she took a drag, holding it between them. Your breath was becoming shaky, and whether you liked it or not, Ellie could hear it. She exhaled the smoke from the side of her mouth, continuing to look up at you as she tugged on your shirt. Her doing anything made you absolutely soaked.

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest, using both hands to grab the hem of your shirt before pulling it off, tossing it to the floor. You were left in just your undergarments, while Ellie remained in her jeans and shirt. Ellie pinched the blunt and held it between her fingers again, and you swore you could hear her swallow.

"Fuck," Ellie whispered, her eyes dancing around your vulnerable body, admiring your form. "Just as beautiful as I thought."

Her words caused your cheeks to burn cherry-red, suddenly feeling vulnerable under her stare. Ellie felt you tense, her expression becoming serious, though it was just a play. She loved messing with you, and she claimed to be the only one allowed to do so. She used her hand with the blunt to cup your cheek, pulling your face down to hers.

"Do you know you're pretty, baby?" Ellie purred, hiding a smirk as she felt you clench against her stomach, despite having yet to take off your panties. The pet name nearly made a moan escape your throat, forcing you to gulp.

"I... I—"

"You're mine, aren't you?" Ellie cooed almost accusingly, purposefully teasing you. It wasn't news that Ellie was basically your protector, caring more about your safety than her own, but did you ever consider that it made you hers? You liked the thought of being hers, you had to admit.

Ellie couldn't wait any longer, shifting you above her so your legs were straddling her right thigh. A faint gasp fell from your lips, rolling onto Ellie's for her to swallow. Ellie tried to hide her cheeky smile as she began to press feather-light kisses from your jaw to your lower neck, using her tight grip on your hips to gently grind you down against her thigh.

A soft moan escaped your lips, followed by another, and another. Ellie knew what she was doing, enough to make you wonder how. The friction of her jeans and your panties combined surprisingly felt better than you'd imagined, but you wanted to feel her. Taste her.

"You like that, pretty girl?" Ellie purred, using her left hand to caress your right thigh, slowly inching inward toward.

"Mhm," you moaned in response, reaching for the front hem of her jeans as you grinded along with her pace, hooking your fingers underneath.

"Feel good, hm?" Ellie continued, gradually applying pressure to your hips until she found the right amount. She noted how greedy you were, practically begging for more with each passing second. "What do you want, baby?"

You swore you could feel yourself drip from how cockily Ellie pampered you. She could tell that the pet name worked on you. She wanted to make sure she did everything right for you.

"I-I want to taste you," you admitted, your cheeks slowly burning pink. Ellie raised her brows in shock, taken aback that you wanted to please her first. Well, any pleasure of hers is yours anyway, you wanted to make her feel good. You sat up from Ellie's thigh, too eager to continue, unbuttoning her jeans.

As you pulled her pants down her legs, Ellie leaned over and tossed remains of the blunt into the ashtray on her nightstand. She then pulled the drawer out, her hand disappearing inside. She pulled out a pre-rolled joint and a lighter, placing the joint between her lips and sparking the end of it with the flame, cupping her other hand around it.

You began to tease the waistband of her underwear, slowly but eagerly pulling them down her thighs, just enough to give yourself access to her cunt. It was glistening, waiting for you. Ellie had to admit, she felt a bit vulnerable herself. She never had anyone go down on her before, but she wanted to try it with you.

You wrapped your arms around her thighs, holding them open as you peppered gentle kisses on the innermost side of them, wondering if Ellie was going to be patient, or take full control. Unbeknownst to Ellie, she went with the ladder. Ellie used her right hand to snake her fingers in your hair, firmly gripping your locks to force your mouth onto her cunt.

You instantly plunged your tongue between her soaked folds, flicking your tongue to taste her as much as you could.

"Oh, fuck," Ellie groaned, her grip on your hair tightening. She watched how your tongue flicked and swirled, her eyebrows furrowing together in pleasure. "Oh my— fuck... How does it taste, pretty girl?"

One thing you could admit was that you weren't expecting Ellie to be so verbal in bed. You liked it, though it was surprising. You moaned against her in response, causing her body to visibly quiver. Ellie was slowly falling apart from the inside out. She squeezed her eyes shut as her short and shaky breaths grew louder, the foreign pleasure quickly spreading throughout her core.

She then pulled your face away, your eyes meeting hers through your lashes. With her left hand, she reached down to offer you the proper end of the joint, practically shoving it between your lips. You took a drag until she pulled it away, holding your head still as you exhaled against her cunt.

"You're so perfect," she praised with a sly smile, using her grip on your hair to shove your mouth back onto her heat. You softly dragged your tongue over her bundle of nerves before sucking, earning a nearly pornographic moan from her in response. You smiled against her, proud that you were able to make her feel so good.

"Shit, don't stop," Ellie ordered, but her moans almost made it sound like a plead. With each drag of your tongue on her swollen clit, a choked moan would escape her lips. Ellie couldn't believe that she could already feel herself growing close, the knot within her belly growing tighter.

"I.. 'm gonna come," Ellie almost whimpered, her hand releasing from your hair to grip the bedsheets. Your eyes shot up to her face, watching her hooded eyes struggle to stay open, her long, thick lashes light kissing the skin of her undereye.

Ellie bucked her hips to grind herself against your mouth, desperately chasing her peak. Ellie's legs twitched and with one gasp she was at her release, her back arching off the bed. Slick of your spit mixed with her juices coated her inner thighs, causing them to glisten under the light illuminating from the nightstand. Her orgasm struck her hard, a string of frantic moans and curses falling from her beautiful lips.

"Fuck, right there!" she sobbed, continuing to grind herself against your mouth. You were completely soaked, your face and your heat, and were sure that your panties had a wet spot that Ellie would smirk over. Ellie's movements slowed to a halt as she came down from her climax, swiftly sitting up. You released your lips from her clit, looking up at her with big doe eyes.

She used her hands to capture the sides of your face, pulling you onto her, your lips landing on hers. You melted into the kiss, leaning into her until you were fully towering her once again. She immediately plunged her tongue between your lips, tasting herself.

"Who taught you to do all that, huh?" she rasped, wrapping a hand around your throat. You felt her other hand slip between the two of you, landing on your clothed cunt. You moaned into her mouth, causing her to smirk against your lips. "Hm?"

"N-no one," you stammered, looking down at her with innocent eyes. You were being genuine, you had never done it before.

Ellie merely hummed before she began kissing the side of your neck, quickly finding your sweet spot after a soft breath escaped your lips. Ellie kissed and suckled on the sensitive skin of your neck as she rubbed gentle circles into your clit, carefully applying pressure.

"Turn around," she murmured in your ear, although it was pointless, because she suddenly used both of her hands to flip you around so that your back was pressed against her chest, comfortably sitting in a slouched position. Her right hand quickly found its way to the waistband of your panties, toying with it while she hooked her right leg over yours, spreading your legs apart.

With her left hand, she lifted the joint to your lips, allowing you to pinch it between your fingers and go to town. As you took a hit, you felt Ellie's fingers slip under the band of your panties, her cold fingertips grazing your clit.

"I promise 'm gonna make you feel good, okay?" Ellie purred in your right ear from behind you, her middle finger finding your heat and in one push, your gummy walls were hugging it. You threw your head back against her left shoulder, clenching around her digit. Ellie groaned from how soaked you were, how her finger slid in with such ease. "Fucking soaked for me."

Ellie's comment made you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut from the stimulation. Hearing this made her chuckle and push in a second finger.

"Shit," you whined, bucking your hips to meet the thrust of her fingers. She was going agonizingly slow, wanting you to beg, or try to get it yourself. You held the joint with your left hand, using the other to desperately grab Ellie's right thigh, which was still holding yours down against the bed. Ellie hid her sly smile in your neck, hungrily sucking love marks onto your skin. "That's it, pretty girl."

The gushing sounds coming from your cunt led Ellie to fasten the pace of her fingers, thrusting them mercilessly. Your moans were barely overpowering the squashing noises, your thighs beginning to shake uncontrollably.

"Fuck, Ellie!" you cried, your eyes screwing shut as Ellie's fingers curled inside you, lightly brushing your sweet spot.

Knocking sounds erupted from the front door, causing you to gasp. Ellie's free hand clasped over your mouth, but her fingers never stopped.

"Who is it?" Ellie called out, clearly sounding out of breath. She then turned her head back to face your neck, pressing multiple rough kisses on your delicate skin.

"Uh... Jason," The voice said from the other side of the door, causing Ellie's lips to halt against your skin. Ellie's fingers stopped as well, nearly making you cry in protest. Ellie rolled her eyes, not wanting to deal with anyone or anything when you were meant to have all of her attention.

Ellie's eyes narrowed in thought before she slowly began to pump her fingers again, whispering in your ear, "You think he could make you feel this good?"

You moaned against her hand, the sound getting muffled by the barrier. Ellie smirked to herself, listening to the noisy sounds of your cunt before turning her head toward the door.

"I'm busy!" Ellie called back flatly.

"But--"

"I'm fucking busy!" Ellie snapped. Even though Ellie now had all of the validation she needed, she still didn't want to see Jason after learning he wanted you. Neither of you were sure if he took the hint, but you didn't care.

With that, Ellie's pace quickened, her other hand pulling at your bra. Your moans did not stop once while you tried to take it off, but Ellie stopped your movements. Instead, she pushed your shoulder forward so she could reach the clasp on your midback, undoing it swiftly.

You were too overwhelmed with pleasure to try and peel the straps off your shoulders, your legs fighting to stay open as her fingers repeatedly hit your sweet, spongy spot. Ellie noticed this, tenderly pulling your bra off your frame before groping your left breast.

"Are you close, sweet girl? Hm?" Ellie's voice was like gravel coated in honey, moaning along with you as she began rolling your nipple between her fingers, teasing the sensitive peak. You would believe her if she said she felt just as much pleasure listening to you. "Talk to me."

"Y-yes," you managed to whimper, feeling your release inch closer and closer.

"Come f'me like the good girl you are. Can you do that, sweetheart?" Ellie purred, causing your hips to buck. Ellie let go of your breast, her fingers finding their way to your clit, swirling circles into your bundle of nerves. Her fingers on your clit, as well as those inside you, completely threw you over the edge before you could reply.

You cursed as your orgasm crashed into you, your entire body stiffening as you came. Pitiful moans escaped your lips, Ellie continuing to pump her fingers at a comfortable pace. The sloppy noises of your cunt never stopped, enhancing Ellie's arousal.

"Goddamn, you're so fucking wet," Ellie nearly grunted in your ear before pulling her fingers out of your sopping, used cunt. She brought her fingers up to your lips, letting you suck her middle finger. You let go of her finger with a pop, huffs falling from your lips as you recovered. Ellie then bright her hand up to her mouth, sucking her ring finger clean.

She then grabbed the joint from your weak fingers, lifting it to her lips with a smirk. She finished it off, tossing the remains into the ash tray on her nightstand.

Before you could say a word, Ellie's hands were on your waist, pushing you off her and onto the bed beside her so she could tower over you. You already looked fucked out. Little beads of sweat dancing down your temples, bright cheeks and wet lips.

"I need to feel you," she huffed in urgency, pulling her underwear off her ankles from you not having discarded them beforehand. She quickly arranged herself on top of you, using your right knee as leverage for her to get into a proper scissoring position. You could see the faint glistening of her cunt, her wetness failing to subside after hearing your moans and exploring you with her fingers. Ellie wanted all of you, she wanted to leave you shaking.

A whiney moan escaped your throat when you felt Ellie's wet core gently land on yours, almost instantly bucking your hips into her. Ellie let out a huff, starting to grind against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your moans were comparable to sobs, bellowing louder than the messy sounds of your cunt.

"You always this wet when you're around me?" Ellie grunted, reaching down to grope your breasts with her free hand, the other still holding onto your knee.

"Y-yes," you managed to admit, arching your back from the pleasure you were soaking in. Your fluids were messily dripping down your inner thighs, smearing onto Ellie's. You could feel the coil in your belly begin to tighten, the friction of Ellie's soaked cunt sliding perfectly over yours at the right pace.

"Yeah? All f'me?" she purred, leaning down to kiss you before retreating, resuming her thrusts.

Heavy breaths puffed out of Ellie's lungs as she continued her steady movements, her short nails leaving indents in the skin of your knee from her tight grip. She could feel her own release creeping closer as well, fastening her pace, which led her to firmly grip your thigh, squeezing it harder than intended. You yelped in pain at first, though it quickly melted into a moan of delight.

"I'm gonna come," Ellie whined, the overstimulation of a second orgasm taking over her. You watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, signaling that she had reached her release. You bucked your hips up to grind yourself against her while she came, her nails digging into your skin as she tensed up. Eyes screwed shut, face sweaty, she still looked as hot as ever.

Ellie's expression and piteous moans pushed you toward your peak, your back arching off the bed as you practically gasped for air. Ellie continued to grind down on you, despite seeming slightly overstimulated from her legs twitching non-stop.

"Fuck, f-fuck," you managed to utter in between breaths, your eyes feeling heavier than normal. Your body felt tingly, your chest heaving as Ellie slowed her pace.

Little did you know, Ellie didn't plan on stopping any time soon.

a/n: if you made it this far, thank you for reading! feel free to send requests and/or feedback, everything is appreciated! ೃ⁀➷

[landosjpg]

‘tis the damn season | ln

the one where you go back to your hometown just to end up in lando's bed.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~1.3k

warnings: ex-bf!lando, little bit of angst & fluff, implied smut

note: part 2 of this blurb series i have going on rn, it’s not proofread so there might be some spelling mistakes!

you looked at the screen of your phone absolutely perplexed, reading the simple conversation over and over again.

"heard you're back in town?"

"i'm sorry, who's this?

"lando."

you couldn't believe that was actually happening.

it had been years since you and lando had last seen each other, or even talked. growing up in the same town, you had been friends since early childhood, and you had grown together with your group of friends.

you also happened to date him for a year before you had decided to move to L.A for your studies, and with him also making his move up to f1, you had decided to call it quits.

and when you left, you never heard of him again.

you had been out of the country for a little over five years, and had never came back til that very christmas. flights from california to england were not only expensive, but also a lot of time; so you had never found yourself in the right state of mind to go back to your hometown, having your family and friends visit you instead some times.

from what your friends had told you, lando had lost contact with everyone in your old friend group, so how on earth did he even findd out?

"my parents told me, they saw your mum at the store yesterday."

the answer to your question came as he double texted at the lack of a reply from your side. you sighed, not sure where he was going with all that.

"just came back a few days ago."

"are you free tonight? haven't seen you in forever."

straight to the point, classic lando.

"can't, i'm staying with my parents. they probably want to have dinner together."

you knew it wasn't a great excuse, but you hoped he would accept it and move on with his life.

part of you wanted to accept his invitation, it had been so long since you had last seen him. as you looked at your screen, you reminisced your relationship with him.

you had dated other people during those years, but even on the other side of the world, you sometimes thought no one would ever make you feel the way he used to do, no one would even know you the way he did.

the rational part of you knew it wasn't a great idea. in the end, you were leaving again in just a few weeks. and you didn't want to go back to your new life with the "what would've been..?" question lingering on your mind.

୨୧

you knew lando could be persuasive. but you thought he wouldn't have much of an effect in you after so many years.

silly you.

he had convinced you to come over to his place in the matter of a few minutes, claiming that his parents were out of town for the weekend and he would appreciate some company.

you parked your car between your old school and the town's church, the place where you and lando would usually meet when you were younger.

sighing, you left your car and started walking the cold streets that led to his house.

the same path you used to follow every other day a few years ago, but this time you weren't sure what was waiting for you there. and it was too late to retreat when you knocked on the door and a smiling lando welcomed you inside from the other side of the door.

he looked different.

more mature, and definitely a lot more handsome than you remembered.

he had ordered something for you two to eat, and with a movie on the background, you talked for hours, time flying by without you even noticing.

you were sat on his couch, one bottle of wine gone during your joyful chatter; and with the alcohol getting to your head, you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his body, sighing contently.

you looked up at him, a smile creeping up to your lips when you saw him staring back at you.

"what's with this?" you giggled, scratching his chin, amused at his attempt of growing a beard.

"hey," he pretended to be offended, poking on your side with his index, which made you squirm. "it's not that bad."

"i didn't say it was," you answered, "you look hot."

the words slipped out of your mouth before you could ever think about it, and a pink flush quickly painted your cheeks as you mentally slapped yourself.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to..." you tried to make the situation less awkward, but his hand cupped your cheek and forced you to look back at him again.

he was leaning into you, and your breath caught in your throat at the proximity between your faces. a deep, shaky breath left your lips as you looked into his piercing eyes.

"is this okay?" he asked, his voice low and husky. and fuck, was it inviting.

you nodded your head, not able to form a proper sentence, or even a word. and he broke the distance between your lips, crashing his mouth against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

you sighed against his mouth before you let you hands and lips do all the talking and soon he was guiding you into his room with his arms around your waist.

୨୧

a few hours later you found yourself walking back into his room, your hair messy as you put your clothes back on. he smiled at you from under the covers, having gotten in bed already.

you chuckled at the sight of him, tucked under the blankets with messy curls and sleepy eyes. and it reminded you of all the previous times you had spent with him in that very same bed, your heart growing fond of the sight before you.

"you're not staying?" his question caught you by surprise, making you stop gathering your things to turn to look at him.

"what?"

"you're not staying?" he repeated, as if you hadn't heard him the first time. but you were still as surprised.

"no," you simply mumbled, sitting on the edge of his bed to put your boots back on.

"come on, y/n," you felt his weigth shifting closer to you, his arm wrapping around your waist and his lips pressing a tender kiss on your hip, over your jeans.

it wasn't a good idea, spending the night with him. you knew that much.

"it's late and it's cold outside, you can leave in the morning," he added, not letting you reject his offer again.

and the softness of his voice with the puppy eyes he was giving you, could've made you do anything he asked for.

he smiled when you didn't reply, knowing that you weren't going to turn him down again. you rolled your eyes with a smile and changed into the shirt he was offering for you to be more comfortable.

his shirt.

and you knew you shouldn't have come to his house in the first place. you knew you shouldn't have slept with him and surely, you should've left instead of crawling back into his arms, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as you lied with your head on his chest.

because you knew you would leave again in only a few weeks; and having a taste of what could've been if you didn't run away years earlier would only lead to breaking your very own heart.

but you sighed and snuggled closer to him, nuzzling your face on his chest and allowing yourself to be his, just for the weekend.

[yndrgrl]

katsuki bakugo has a glow up during summer break, & now he has a lot of girls' attention

fluff. ooc! bakugo. bits of jealousy. sfw. x reader. acquaintances to lovers. long ass fic.

a/n: the horny content will continue after this message :) also i kinda got nerdy so just ignore my rambles about fighting haha

the whispers & murmurs buzzed like bugs throughout the halls of u.a. you couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard lower classmen gush about how good katsuki looks, how he definitely had a summer glow up.

it's not that he was bad looking before, that's just not the case. so, when you heard that he somehow got hotter over the span of a few months, you grew curious.

your best friend, ochaco, began to rave about him. "no, you don't understand, y/n. have you seen him yet?"

"i haven't yet, but it doesn't matter! he's still rude as hell!" you told her. "besides, aren't you still going after midoriya?"

"yeah, but i can still appreciate attractive people," she retorted, shoving the rest of her her breakfast-on-the-go in her mouth. you fished your phone out of your school cardigan pocket to change your music when, like a kdrama (or a shitty fanfic), you ran into something-- no, someone.

speak of the devil. "oi! watch it!" the abrasive blonde spun around & met your eyes. his harden glare soften oh so subtly.

"i'm sorry," you quaintly apologized. it's the first day & the first hour of the next 180 days, & you're not going to get in a fight.

"it's whatever, just make sure where you're going next time," katsuki responded. his tone was still harsh, yet what he said was almost nice.

he walked off into the both of yours' classroom, leaving you & ochaco stunned. you both stared at each other, mouths agape. "what just happened?" she finally spat out.

"i have no idea."

"WAS HE JUST NICE?"

a week later, you sat in class, listening to mr. aizawa drone on about something so utterly boring, you'd rather stick your head in a toilet & flush it yourself. you let your eyes wander around the class. for the most part, everyone stayed the same.

then, your eyes landed on katsuki, who was seated by the window. now that you had time to think about it, he did change. his jawline was a tad sharper, his hair appeared more soft, & his shirt clung onto every inch of his upper body. he definitely bulked up during the summer.

his skin is clear, he must've also began caring for a sense of style because his fingers displayed grunge rings, & his eyes were somehow a darker, more alluring shade of crimson. wait, his eyes... were staring at you.

no, he was staring at you staring at him.

god, you felt like a creep. you were expecting him to yell at you, scowl through gritted teeth, but no. he didn't do any of that. he shot you a smirk, then went back to jotting notes.

confusion settled in after embarrassment. you couldn't help that a light pink dusted your cheeks. it wasn't noticeable though, thank goodness.

the subtle, weird antics didn't stop. maybe he's just playing with me or something, you wondered. or maybe i'm looking too much into thinks.

when passing him in the halls, he'd acknowledge you by giving you a small nod-- even if his friends were talking his ears off. he'd hold the doors open for you & only you, but would walk away quickly. he was treating you differently then he treats everyone else, & you don't know why.

"bakugo~" a girl you barely recognized greeted. "you look handsome today!"

he & his friends sat on the other side of your friends' long table. you were the closest to his squad, only three seats away from them. they could hear your conversations, but that means you could hear theirs.

"shut it, & eat your food," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. with his chopsticks, he picked at his bento box.

"ooo~ what did you pack?" she pressed as she inched closer to him. "aww, did your mom make that?"

"no, i did," he raised his voice. she wouldn't take the hint though.

she merely giggled, asking, "could you feed it to me? i wanna try some~" she crossed her arms under her breasts to intensify her cleavage. she was picture perfect, to say the least. any other guy would be drooling at the sight of her.

not bakugo though. he was goal-oriented, focused on the future, & not into dating from what you gathered. a small part of you is bummed out that he isn't interested in romance. he was practically everything you wanted in a guy after all-- just minus the whole "jerk" part.

"what are you looking at, bakugo?" you didn't realize you were staring -once again- until the girl whipped her head around & caught your gaze. her cattish smile dropped into a thin line. "quit staring, idiot-"

"don't call her that, bitch."

both yours & her eyes widened at the quickness & unexpected defensiveness spewed by bakugo. he stuck some of his egg omelette in his mouth, unbothered.

"wh-what? i don't think i heard you, bakugo."

he swallowed his food, ran his tongue across his top teeth, and started to pick up more food with his chopsticks, reiterating, "don't talk to y/n like that, got it?" he put the food in his mouth.

she scoffed, humiliated. "i have to leave," she said, voice dropping at least an octave. your eyes trailed her as she sat with her friends, & they immediately began gossiping. how could you tell? the way they all looked back at you with a nasty expression on their faces.

you returned your attention back to bakugo, who had both your friends & his friends floored with what just happened. "thanks for that," you started. "you really didn't have to do that."

"i know i didn't, but someone had to shut her up."

you replied, "i mean, i'm sure there was a nicer way."

"i tried," he told you with that small smirk on his face again. "she didn't get the hint, i have to be more obvious."

"yeah, in more ways than one," a friend on his side, sero, snickered.

"hey, what's that supposed to mean?!" classic katsuki, reverting back to yelling.

ever since that happened, your friends haven't stopped talking about it since. "guys, c'mon. it's almost been a week," you groaned. you were all getting ready in the school locker room to do hand-to-hand, no quirk combat with a celebrated instructor.

"i think bakugo likes you~" ochaco teased in a sing-songy voice.

you tried to reason, "maybe he was just annoyed with her, & it has nothing to do with me."

"i don't know, y/n," momo laughed, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "he seemed pretty into you."

"no way, not bakugo-"

"well, why not bakugo?" mina, who just so happened to be good friends with said man, asked while she slipped on her shoes.

"because we all know what he's like. he doesn't really scream the dating type, you know?" you grabbed a water bottle & locked your back into your locker.

mina shrugged, & ochaco said, "you said one time that bakugo was the closest to your type... do you like him?"

"WHAT?"

the rest of the conversation was cut short when tsuyu pointed out they should be in the training room by now, causing all the girls to scramble out of the locker room.

the instructor, once the bell rang, introduced himself. he was a nice man seemingly. he was a well-seasoned martial artist who knew what he was talking about.

after his brief speech, he had his assistant -a younger, more egotistical guy- be his dummy when explaining a move. "does anyone have any questions?" he asked. no one answered. "cool, find a partner, & try it out."

everyone scurried to find their partners. pair by pair, no one chose you... all except-

"hey you, be my partner," bakugo practically demanded.

"me?"

"no, the wall behind you. yes, you, y/n," he joked, the same smirk only you get to see on his face. this time, however, it was a full-blown smirk.

"are you sure?"

"yeah," he scoffed, dragging you by the arm to an empty space. he studied how your face contorted from surprise to concern. "listen, if you think you're gonna drag me down or whatever, you're not-"

"no, it's not that," you interrupted. you felt your pride inflate slightly.

"then what is it?"

"i just don't want to hurt you."

it was his turn to be shocked. what did you mean by that?

the first hour went by, techniques were taught, & moves were learned. however, now it was the time that really put things to the test: open spar. it was at this time in training when things got heated. everyone in the room gives it their all no matter what, so the atmosphere turns into something animalistic, yet so empowering.

but before that, is a small water break. speaking of water, where did you leave yours? you swear you brought it in. bakugo must've seen how confused you appeared when he offered (or told you), "here, take some of mine."

too thirsty to even care the open-mouthed expressions from your peers, you took the bottle from his outstretched hand. "thank you!" you cheered, taking a few sips then handing it back to him.

"was that even enough? you barely drank anything," he jested. it sounded like he was teasing you, but, again, he said something like he cared about your well-being.

"yeah, i'll be fine. the worst that can happen is i'll faint."

"you better not. i need a good training partner."

"oh whatever, you're getting a good training partner."

suddenly, the instructor boomed, "water break is over! get back with your partner for sparring!"

once everyone huddled back with their partners & got situated, the instructor explained briefly that everyone will be grappling ("no striking" he repeated ten times as well) five minute rounds, switch partners, another five minute round, & so on so forth. "alright got it?"

"yes sir!"

"good," he nodded to his assistant, who got the stop watch ready, "3, 2, 1, go!"

yoy & katsuki go into your stances. one thing about being shorter than him is that, in the game of wrestling, you're at in advantage at first. "don't go easy on me," you told him, it was meant as a warning

"i was just about to tell you i wasn't." the moment he finished, he took a double-leg shot. it was executed near flawless-- emphasis on the near.

you sprawled your legs back, collapsing your body on top of his. you drove your shoulder into his neck, which resulted in bakugo's face smushed against the mat. he might be strong, but no one's neck is that strong to hold up an entire person. you heard him audibly groan "fuck!"

you caught his arm & his head with one of yours. the two of you were on your knees, but your goal was to get him flat, stomach down. with his trapped arm & leg, you pulled him out from under you & quickly sped towards his back. you mounted him, keeping yourself close to his. you gazed up at your instructor, who gave you a knowing nod of approval.

like a good fighter, katsuki sprung his head up. he missed your nose, instead having his skull collide with your cheek. it hurt, but you had to keep going. "since when did you learn how to wrestle?"

"what do you mean?" you thought everyone knew. you swore that you've mentioned it in front of the class.

"you're fucking good, you know that?" he praised as he fought of your hands.

"you're not too bad yourself," you told him before you crossbody locked him.

"no, i'm being serious. you're too damn good. you're gonna be my partner every time we grapple."

you & bakugo, now you call him katsuki, have only grown closer since then. he would take time out of his study session to ensure you understood the material. before he could finish, the library assistant -a girl around your age- would ask if he needed help with anything, shy blush on her face.

other times he'd walk with you back to your dorms when a group of girls would ask for his number.

it was a constant occurrence; girls notice him, ask for something, then ultimately get rejected. it wasn't in a nice way either. he always degraded & humiliated them, but they'd let him because of how handsome he was.

it was a saturday afternoon where you & katsuki got food from a nearby convenience store & sat in the park. no scheduled training or overwhelming amounts of homework. he insisted on paying for you, & who are you to reject free food?

"okay, but i really have to ask," you started, eating your food, "why aren't you dating anyone?"

"i don't know," he simply put it, downing a bottle of a protein drink.

"you do know, you're just not telling me." you actually didn't know if that was true, you were just bluffing.

"fine, i'm just waiting for a some girl to realize i like her," he admitted so nonchalantly, as if he didn't drop a mind bomb.

your mood dampened. he was your dream guy, the more you hung out with him. you might have developed a crush on him, yet you didn't even realize he liked anyone else.

"no way! who?" you had to sound enthused or he would know something was up.

"no one, forget i said anything," he cleared.

"i want to know~ i can help find out her favorite flowers or something so you can confess!"

"really?" he asked, brow quirked. you nodded your head.

"tch, alright. what's your favorite flower?"

that didn't make any sense. "what?"

"you said that you're gonna help me confess, so what's your favorite flower?"

"katsuki, i don't think she has the same favorite flower than me."

"oh my god, you're so fuckin' dense," he muttered under his breath. "i want to know your favorite flower, y/n, so i can confess." his cheeks reddened as he gave you intense stare, studying your expression. it was still confused.

"confess to who-" he cut you off by putting his hand behind your head & pulling you into a kiss. it was gentle, passionate, & truly shocking to you.

"confess to you, idiot," he panted when the two of you pulled away. "i'm already here," he said with a fuck-it attitude.

"y/n, i've liked you for a long time, a really long time. i thought i made it obvious but you never really caught on cuz you're a dumbass or something."

you laughed, & he smiled at you.

he continued, "so then shitty hair told me i had to make it even more obvious, so that's what i've been doing this entire year."

"but all those girls-"

"yeah well i didn't know i was getting a fan club this year. honestly, they don't fuckin' matter though. what matters is you & i," he told you, his face still so close to yours. "so tell me, if you feel the same."

"i-i do," you stuttered out. in your defense, you were not used to such close proximity to anyone, let alone a sculpture chiseled by ancient greeks themselves.

"say it again," he said, voice deep & eyes half lidded. "i need to hear it again."

"i do, katsuki," you repeated per his request. "i really, really like you."

he pulled you into another kiss, & you both felt each other smile. it felt right.

[very-normal-abt-this]

I want talk about how much love was nonverbally expressed *after* their last conversation in S2 Finale.

Yes, you heard right. AFTER.

Sure, they ended the conversation completely pissed at each other. Broken hearted. But, like in any solid relationship, they don't hold grudges. Only a few short moments later, all the anger is gone from Aziraphale's face, and the only emotions left are: love, longing, fear, regret. He can barely pay attention to Metatron, because he keeps looking out the window at Crowley. I think I counted 7 times of him turning his head to look. And of course, he is close to changing his mind several times. (BTW, I would *kill* to know what thoughts were going through his mind right before he committed to leaving, right before he said "nothing at all" with that fake smile)

And Crowley. Most humans, when they feel they've been rejected and/or abandoned - they slam the door and they leave in a huff! They don't look back, they get in their car, and drive away as fast they can, possibly with a middle finger pointed in the direction of the offending party. (Unless they're the type of person who would stand by the door, cry and beg them to stay, but obviously that behavior could never be exhibited by Crowley).

But Crowley does not leave. He does not even try to hide in his car. He stands there, intentionally on display, waiting and watching. Why? Because either A) He is not viewing this as a rejection and abandonment, but as a [huge] difference of opinion, so he is not reacting like someone who has just been rejected. Or B) he IS viewing it as rejection, but he loves Aziraphale so much that his main priority is still to make sure that the Angel is safe, regardless of their current relationship status. His love for Aziraphale is literally unconditional. Crowley wants to watch him walk into that elevator with his own eyes, and make sure that he's not doing so under duress. Or there is option C) He is standing there defiantly, to communicate his disapproval and disbelief at what Aziraphale is doing, like "I can't believe you're actually doing this, I have to see this shit with my own eyes to believe it." Or option D) He is hoping to influence Aziraphale to change his mind, because he knows that its incredibly hard for Aziraphale to leave him. Standing there to send a message of "I'm still here. Are you really sure you are okay with being separated?" Or maybe even E) A small part of him wondered if he (Crowley) might change his own mind about going, once he saw Aziraphale actually walking toward the elevator, once he saw that it's actually happening.

I don't think it's option C because of Crowley's facial expression and body language after Aziraphale gets in the elevator. I don't see any anger, frustration, disgust, or judgment there. All I see is...utter despondency, numbness, melancholy, hopelessness. So, I'm thinking its a combination of reasons A, B, and D. Maybe a little E.

And, I wondered the same about Aziraphale. As he is walking to the elevator, he is not acting as someone who is angry at their significant other. I imagine that a lot of people who feel angry after a fight, and feel their partner is completely in the wrong - they would walk into that elevator without looking back at the offending party. They might put on the happiest face and try to hide all traces of negative emotions, just to "stick it to them." But Aziraphale does look back at Crowley. And, this last nonverbal communication with his partner is also very intentional; he wants Crowley to know that he is looking at him on purpose (just as Crowley's behavior of standing by the Bentley and watching him leave is very intentional). Aziraphale stops and makes eye contact with Crowley, right before he walks into the elevator. Just as Crowley, he is trying to send a message with that pause and look. What message? A) "I can't believe you're not coming with me, I'm hurt and disappointed in you." B) "I want you to know that it's very hard for me to do this, I'm torn about it, and I'm thinking about you." C) "I just found out very bad news and you're in danger." Or option D) "I just found out very bad news and I'm definitely going to need your help. I'll be back."

My opinion is that its a combo of B, C, and D. I do not think its A, based on Aziraphale's behavior and emotions right after Crowley walked out.

So, to summarize the point I am making - despite their deficits in communicating with words, Aziraphale and Crowley continue communicating their feelings nonverbally. They remain committed to each other, even in the face of the biggest rift they've ever experienced in their relationship. Their behavior shows that their first priority in the relationship is not "to be right" or "to win the argument." Their priorities are - taking care of each other. Letting each other know that, "no matter what happens, I am here, and I'm thinking about you."

Thanks for reading! please leave a comment.