#drawing is one way to get my energy back despite it taking up a lot of my wrist energy hauhauahuha

[inkyu]

I'm re-drawing some stuff I made last year

I'd say I improved a lot :muscle:

I'm gonna fix Sera's hand later rn bc I'm sketching

[caitlinbueckers]

ok Ik you said Pazzi fic in studio but will never get the idea of Paige calling azzi mamas out of my head so just felt like I needed to share an idea for a blurb or to include in anything you write PAIGE CALLINF AZZI MAMAS

anon ur a genius but i am simply a fool who took this prompt and then ran with it and turned it into a random oneshot soooooo i apologize for the minimal use of ‘mamas’ but hope u like it anyway and will implement that in all my writing deadass

pet names.

paige bueckers/azzi fudd.

2.8K.

kinda bullshit rambling but a lil more of a structure to follow???

minimal nsfw so 18+ as fuck

Wait guys let me know how u rly feel bcuz im not suuuper happy w this one

at first, it’s a subtle change.

it’s not like paige is ever actually serious enough for her words to be taken to heart or with any ounce of meaning behind it— she’s a fucking idiot, and azzi was more than well aware of her incessant antics, and the fact that she just played too much.

so, of course it surprises her, but she can’t say it really means anything, until it does.

it’s funny to azzi, really, when recently, all of a sudden, paige will get caught up in her usual tangents that she’s started letting these random, little pet names slip from her lips, mouth moving so fast, almost as if she barely meant it, could barely even call it out herself.

it happens usually when they’re tired— or, at least when azzi’s tired, and paige is excited. sweat clinging to the back of azzi’s neck, her curls drawing up and away from the edges of her hairline, skin flushed and hot to the touch when paige is suddenly breezing past her. she’s somehow still in a jog despite the rigorous drills they’d done, oblivious to the redness of her face or the plastered strands of blonde hair against her forehead. she’s at the tail end of a conversation with KK, still grinning like a fool about whatever they must’ve been chattering about, yelling out some type of phrase or joke that only those two could conjur up.

azzi’s right eyebrow is already lifted, somehow already suspicious and unimpressed of her intentions when paige is launching straight into a new conversation, cheeks still pink and teeth on display as she skips backwards to keep her eyes on azzi.

“i think me an’ KK are ‘finna go play 2K when we get back to the dorms— i told her ass she doesn’t stand like, a single chance when I’ve been on my grind, and she don’t believe me, like, baby, you know i’ve been on that shit,” she clicks her tongue, rolls her eyes before she’s smacking azzi’s arm, giving her a sneaky grin, one that signaled whatever she was offering was really gonna be a delight, (it never was), “you should come chill. you don’t gotta play if you don’t want, you can always be my lil’ cheerleader.”

it wasn’t like her high energy, rapid movement behavior was anything unusual, but that little, barely missable word was.

baby. it rolls off her tongue like it’s been waiting around the whole time, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. she says it with an ease of comfort she can’t necessarily place, and azzi doesn’t necessarily hate it, but it’s there, nonetheless.

it momentarily stunts her, but azzi still finds herself smiling— not from any type of fluster or flush miraculously, but one that she usually gives paige when she’s amused by her, eyes wide and exaggerated as she huffs out a chuckle. “that sounds… boring, honestly.” but, she’s laughing at the gape on paige’s face anywa, “i need to shower, dude, i don’t wanna watch video games.” she scoffs, before she grins at her, only because she knows it’ll piss paige off.

and it does, so, of course the walk out to the parking lot is filled with a whole lot of, ‘oh my god, bro, you’re so lame.’ or, ‘like, azzi, you can have a turn ‘forreal, like just come over for like, deadass a second.’

ultimately, and unsurprisingly enough, paige ends up getting her way. though, she’ll swear it’s only because azzi takes her shower, does some homework and is in the middle of taking out her braids when the word hits her again, and again, and again.

babybabybaby.

she can’t really blame the way she rolls her eyes despite herself. her and paige had been close for fucking ever, so there wasn’t necessarily much between them that was off limits, but it still resonated within her as something azzi couldn’t just brush off. whether that was more damaging than pretending it never happened, she didn’t have a single clue.

all she did know, was that paige bueckers got her way entirely way too much. so much so, that azzi has to let out an audible groan reserved only for paige, before she texts that she’s on her way over.

and yeah, whatever, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if it was just a one-off, or if maybe their friendship wasn’t so fucking complicated in the first place.

but then, it does matter, because it doesn’t stop happening.

when paige is frustrated at her homework, sitting plainly with her legs at full extension in the study room with aaliyah, ice, and azzi, it leaves her lips in a huff of exasperation, “azzi, babe, this shit really makes no sense, swear.” even if she’s saying it in the voice that clearly states she hasn’t attempted it for nearly long enough to proclaim she doesn’t get it, “az, can you please just come check it out.” azzi can’t tell what’s worse; the fact that paige had said it, or the fact that nobody had even looked surprised that she did.

or when they’d gotten dressed for media day, everyone milling about as they try not to wrinkle their uniforms or crease their concealer, it’s paige (and eventually nika and aaliyah) that whoops and hollers during azzi’s solo pictures, something like, “yeaaaah princess! nation’s best, babyyyyy! work that shit!” followed by a series of whistles that sounded so off pitch it makes azzi snort, rolling her eyes as she purposely avoids the gaze that paige so obviously wants to capture, teetering at the edges of azzi’s peripheral with a grin so wide it threatens to make her blush.

and, she swears she doesn’t, and instead turns back to the photographer with cheeks only a touch pinker than they were previously, “sorry— can we do that again?”

really, the only time she’d ever allowed herself to actually enjoy it, was on the last night at the hotel after a game. it couldn’t have been later than two or three in the morning, paige and azzi having spent the majority of it whispering beneath the covers, anything to not wake up the two other girls asleep in the other double bed.

it’s not too bad, having to share beds— except that, paige is a chronic cuddler and azzi would rather sleep on the shitty futon than be subjected to paige’s unrelenting weight against her back, or her arms slung lazily over her, but it was because of that precise position that azzi could even hear the words when she says it.

“mmmh-,“ she hums tiredly first, speaking mostly out of her ass, like paige always did when got too tired and let herself start rambling “night, pretty girl.”

it’s soft, and sort of raspy— the way paige gets when she’s been screaming all night on the court, and azzi can really only tell by the amount of ibuprofen that she’d downed before bed being somewhat more than her usual, that she’s probably got a headache. it’s a voice she uses when she’s being sincere.

the quiet sentiment, however insignificant to anyone else, replays in her mind. almost like a secret. almost like the closer she keeps it to her chest, the harder it’ll be to lose it.

it makes her whole body warm all over.

her response comes a few beats later, when she’s sure paige has drifted, and nothing but her measured breath is puffing against azzi’s neck, heard only between the two of them.

“night, p.”

but then, suddenly, everything sort of changes. azzi doesn’t know when this part happened— maybe it’s between the time she kisses her at that bar, tipsy and too close, unaware of the camera that set the internet aflame, and now, where it was customary that paige did homework with her, or ate dinner with her or slept over all the time. perhaps, it’s one selective moment in the chaos between that had suddenly transformed paige’s subtle casualty of the pet names, to something more intimate. more for them, rather for anyone else.

or, maybe it was exactly where they knew they’d end up all along.

it’s after a night out, after neither of them had ever really questioned how this had became their routine. that now, it had become something unspoken, an inherent rule that was followed without it needing to be stated. that, when they got too fucked up with the team, and the ubers were being ordered, azzi and paige always went together, that the address would always end up being paige’s dorm, and that azzi would always be curling into purple sheets by the time she sobers up enough to sleep.

but, she’s not sober. she’s drunk, and her face is flushed hot, sticky with the bar atmosphere. “paige, you’re making me too hot.” azzi complains with an impatient lilt to her voice, lifting her right shoulder up to her neck as if to shrug paige off, but the girl is relentless, humming her denial as she slid a hand across azzi’s thigh, grasping it hard enough that her nails dug into the skin there.

“psh, you’re already hot, shut up.” the words are spoken clumsily, lips brushing against the bare skin of azzi’s shoulder with each word, while a sudden surge of annoyance and somehow gratitude courses through azzi for having worn a sleeveless top, “c’mere, mamas, ‘lemme lay on you.”

she’s being whiny, and it only makes azzi roll her eyes before her gaze flickers to the screen of the car, giving her another light elbow prod, only this time, a short, sneaking smile is crossing her face. “paige, ‘forreal, we’re about to be back anyway.”

this, somehow, only fuels her. “i’m wounded,” she complains, before she’s pressing a little smack of a kiss to azzi’s neck, “my girl’s so mean to me, shit.”

my girl.

what the fuck ever.

azzi should’ve demanded an explanation then, but she doesn’t.

in fact, there’s not an explanation waiting for them when they stumble into paige’s room, their hands in a tight grasp, pulling each other in so that they can both fall against the bed, and azzi really shouldn’t have been expecting one. it’s definitely not explained when they’re somehow under the blankets, and paige has an arm, long and lean, wrapped around azzi’s waist to end somewhere between her legs, fingers finding a rhythm that seems to pull the very air from azzi’s lungs.

it’s not what azzi was expecting to happen, and yet somehow they’d fallen into place like it something they’d done a million times. paige had undressed her, after azzi’s complaint of still feeling too hot, and paige— not even a singular bit sober— finds her hands along the bottom of azzi’s top, tugging it over her head before she tosses her an old basketball camp shirt that had been slung across her dresser.

“you gonna sleep in jeans?” is really what had started it, paige’s pointed tone making azzi’s face burn hot, but the smirk on her face never faltered. “you’re so annoying.”

because then, paige has her fingers hooking into azzi’s waistband, eliciting a string of giggles that escape because fuck, she’s ticklish and paige knows. “what? what am i doing?” the blonde is grinning too, snickering under her breath as azzi’s pants are yanked down her hips, kicked from her feet with minimal effort until azzi feels it. a featherlight kiss was placed to each of her scarred knees, the inside of her thigh, eyes flickering up to azzi’s hazy but steady gaze, “this okay?”

god, azzi hadn’t realized until just then how fucking okay it was.

it’s quiet, sensual even, the way that paige talks her through it— heel of her hand dragging endlessly against her swollen clit, fingers thick as they arched into her, teeth grazing the back of azzi’s shoulder with each word of encouragement.

“c’mon, mamas, jus’ like that.” had anyone known better, they’d think paige must’ve been getting off just to this, by the way her own voice hitched and caught, her own hard swallows that reverberated in azzi’s ear, each laced with little gasps as she plunged into her wetness.

but, azzi did know better— paige was absolutely getting off to it. her voice is all breath, crackling and barely audible, murmuring incoherent mumbles that make it almost incomprehensible to decipher, yet, azzi swears she can understand.

it’s in her ear, over and over, that heat and pressure between her legs building as her hips twitched involuntarily against her knuckles, feels the way they slide deeper within her and azzi lets out a noise that even she’s too embarrassed to recount. “fuck, i wanna hear that shit, need to hear you baby, please.”

it coaxes the orgasm straight from azzi’s core, thighs involuntarily squeezing around paige’s hands, to which the blonde is silent in muted awe. she watches with bleary eyes but bated breath, sitting up only a bit to really witness it. the way azzi’s face drew up, eyebrows furrowed and lips parting, the whimper edged breaths that huffed out of her, the tight clamping of her eyes shut.

“so fucking pretty,” each word is punctuated in a kiss, “so good.”

really, it should’ve been a lot worse for them the next morning. azzi can’t help the wave of a ground shaking realization she gets when she rolls over to inspect paige’s sleeping expression, lips slightly parted, her blonde hair mussed on the pillow behind her. there should’ve been some type of lingering awkwardness that hung above them, some type of trepidation or fear, maybe even regret.

it definitely wasn’t like they talked about it, but they’d also never quite gone this far. did they need to? probably, because azzi knew that the guilt would probably hit sooner or later.

in fact, azzi waits for it to hit, all the way until paige wakes up, and her eyes are a little puffy, watery blue and clear as she blinks up blearily at azzi like she’s the finest thing she’s ever laid eyes on (because she is), and whispers with a grin, “distracted by my beauty?”

she waits even until the next away game, when her legs are propped up over paige’s lap and her fingers are drumming absently against azzi’s thigh, humming something in her headphones with her eyes shut, looking like a complete idiot, before their eyes meet by chance when paige opens them, and suddenly, they’re both grinning.

she even waits for it to hit when the buzzer goes off after the fourth quarter of that game, an easy win, and confetti is thrown. it’s chaos really, with all the girls rushing through the tunnel to get back to the lockers. that is, until, paige pulls her aside for half a second, hidden away from the hungry eyes to press a solid, sweet kiss to her lips.

but it doesn’t end there. azzi waits for it during her injury, when enough nights in linoleum covered white floors with the constant smell of antiseptic start to pierce the inside of azzi’s brain, ruins her attitude enough that paige’s texts go unanswered. and yet, everytime azzi wakes up, the pain in her leg flared and angry, it’s paige that’s sat in the corner of the room, huddled under a shitty hospital blanket, waiting for her to wake up.

it went even as far as the loss against IOWA when the roles are reversed— after the excitement of final four had became real, after the grueling, rampant preparation, and then ultimately, a loss. it’s when azzi gets permission to stick around in paige’s hotel room until she gets back from the game, and the way that the blonde, finally in the safety of the four walls, found herself crumbling to azzi, becoming nothing but a shell of what everyone perceives her to be, everything paige wishes she fucking wasn’t.

it’s only then, that azzi finds herself returning the favor— arms wrapped tight around paige’s waist with a burning, sting in her own eyes that she can feel the moment she sighs against the crown of paige’s head. she can smell the sweat, the smell of a basketball court that had just gotten waxed, but really, azzi just smells paige, and that’s enough to give her the composure she needs to whisper against her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself, baby… you guys did so good.”

and they don’t talk about it, because they don’t need to. the same way they never had to ask the other when it came to the hospital or bus rides or homework dates or hotel rooms— it was unspoken, implied but never mentioned. the same way back when they’d met at USA camp, it was never a matter of conversation for their plays to work, it was all in the matter of a look, or a slight of hand.

and when the team starts asking, giving paige shit about how she’s missing video game nights with KK or azzi’s getting shit about caroline missing her study partner, everybody already knows. when paige tells nika, voice only a little timid as she gives her a condensed version of the last few months like it was a ground shaking news, head tilted to lean on the older girls shoulder, the brunette bursts into laughter. ‘finally, took you guys long enough.’

and really, it was a wonder they hadn’t been like this the whole time.

a wonder that it had taken this long in the first place.

[etherfabric]

How the Universe provides for you + Songs

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

You are the ultimate authority over your life. I merely provide my perspective. Sometimes the Universe lines you up with something that doesn't resonate with your truth, so you have contrast to find out what does. Never give away your power.

Pile 1

Strength, 3 of Pentacles

You have loyal allies in your challenges. A lot of unforeseen inconveniences you can't seem to avoid are in your energy, but this time, you feel the support - be it physical incarnations of kindred spirits, or those from the other realm connected to you. Yes, your heart is pounding and your knees are shaking, and these instances definitely aren't what you would've put on your wish list in a million years - but you surprise yourself with your bravery amidst it all. You thrive in collaboration with likeminded people, even in the face of your antagonists. The Universe is sending you storms so you can see how well you build your structure, and feel like the badass boundary expert your past self dreamed they could be.

This was a test, and you passed with flying colors. All your hard inner work is tangibly paying off, and you feel elated and proud - rightfully so.

Pile 2

Queen of Pentacles, The Fool

You finally stopped caring so much. You figured out where (or with whom) you lose the energy you so desperately missed all this time, and despite the struggles of letting go, you are now light as a feather. But in contrast to the past, where you were simply too scared to attach fully, so what else is there to do but float... you can now fall back on and draw from the deep roots you grew in fertile ground. Nourishment tailored to your needs is in constant supply, and plenty of opportunities to extend that generosity onto are emerging on the horizon. But this time, you know what to look for to have it reciprocated.

There might be people you still deem generally lovable you had to leave behind, and trust that hearing their criticism or seeing the effect of your absence on them will never truly stop hurting - but you know your worth and needs better than ever, and are determined to ultimately look ahead to the promising future. The Universe provides for all, and not just through you.

Pile 3

7 of Wands, 7 of Pentacles

The Universe is fueling your fierce protector side. You respect your own time more than ever, and see the value of patience with yourself. Your vulnerability is no longer a source of shame, it has become your most precious inspiration. Outside disturbances can't faze you out of your serenity with your true self. You worked hard for where you are, and you are not letting anyone counterproductive get close to it. Take the various toxic coping mechanisms projected onto you as the compliments that they are - you trusted in your balance, followed what felt right, and are reaping the rewards, while others still cling to the very same mindset that starts itching once you are around.

You understand the delicate relationship between healthy aggression and egotistical overkill, and are a role model for those wanting to follow you. The blessings you have already received are shining brighter than ever, and it's only the beginning. Isn't it so worth it being seen as the bad guy? Your people love you for what you are doing for them. No one can take this away from you, because you know how to keep it - becoming more authentic every chance you get.

Pile 4

2 of Swords, The Hermit

I can imagine you clicking on this particular reading with a kind of scoff. "Oh yeah? Providing for me? I see fuck all." Dare I recommend to expand your understanding in which ways one can receive...? I see you clinging onto promises you kind of already know aren't very, well, promising. But for some reason you only want it that way, almost to try to prove a point no one even challenged you on. Your idea of what you need and what you want have no space for differences inbetween. This might not sound pretty or comforting - I feel awfully confrontational saying this to you actually, and my Cancer Mars is shaking like a leaf - but I see the Universe providing you with an ultimatum.

Drop the rope if you truly want happiness (and not just validation for how great all of your ideas are), or be stuck in the frustration eating away at you. Look at what you already have. Yes, it's not the ultimate dream, but you have to first step inside of you to be able to receive. Because inside of you is where you will feel the love that's on its way to you - not craning your neck out as far as you can, desperate for a crumb to roll by.

[onsomenewsht]

now playing: What Can I Do

< track 4 || track 6 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader, Barcelona Femeni x Reader

》 words count: +2.8k

》 I don't know if you see us how I do in my head

Four years of studying all the finest details of the ways she acts and moves

“She does it on purpose”

Ingrid smiles at your whining, enjoying the easy banter growing day by day between you and her girlfriend. 

But yes, she’s doing it on purpose. All the girls know, and the ones currently in the parking lot with the three of you aren’t even trying to hide their laughs. You recognise Alexia’s soft one without taking your eyes off the defender.

María is going on a rant about all the places you need to see in Madrid since the team is going to play Atlético on the weekend. As if you’re not gonna be free there for a couple of hours and you still understand close to nothing of what she’s saying in the first place.

You have no doubt she insists on speaking exclusively in Spanish just to annoy you, she’s perfectly aware you can’t even order a coffee without the barista trying to hide a giggle at your scrambled words.

“You have to practise, she’s helping”, it’s cute she’s trying to defend her girlfriend.

“She’s a broken record”

As a matter of fact, or just to prove her point, the Spaniard’s voice is a constant background noise - from the walk toward the training centre, all the way through the changing room, and till the first stretching exercises.

You will never accept a ride from the couple, ever again.

“Mapi, give the girl a break! I’m exhausted and I’m not even listening”

You like Keira, Keira is funny in a comfortable way. Ingrid and her are the only ones able to buffer María’s enthusiasm when they notice you get overwhelmed by the language or you’re just too tired to deal with her energy.

“¡Y ni te entiende!” (And she doesn’t even understand you)

“Necesita practicar su Español” (She needs to practise her Spanish)

“She’s still here”, you try to calm your teammates’ excitement as soon as you notice more girls are gathering around you.

They planned a movie night at your place anyway, they will have time and space to bother you all they want later. 

You need to focus on your exercises right now, despite the elegant and defined movements that keep catching your attention on the small training area.

Alexia is stretching just a couple of metres away from you, talking with Marta and Irene while casually controlling a ball with her foot. Somehow, there’s always a football around her.

The punch Mapi directs at your ribcage - powerful, and quite frankly uncalled for - manages to knock the wind out of you, drawing attention and a laugh from your teammates, but a glare from Jonatan. 

The red all over your face is surely due to the blonde’s hit, nothing else.

“Just hit her back”

“And add fuel to the fire?”

“¿Qué?”, Alexia’s eyebrow rises. 

She’s closer to you now, you both like to be at your manager’s left side when he’s explaining the tactics he wants to review as his hands’ gestures are clearer.

You’re going to start the next game, he made an all scene the previous day to let you know that, so you should listen to what he’s saying.

“Nothing. I tried, she gets more annoying”

“María Leon masterclass”

She’s distracting, her smile is lighting up the whole training centre. You definitely have to listen to your manager.

You’re slowly but securely finding your place in this new club. The press is still talking about the fact you came out of nowhere, and the online comments are still questioning if you deserve to be here in the first place.

Your last season in Italy was fun to say the least, managing to stand up against the big ones and earning with your team a place for the Champions League group stage. You were a little disappointed when a loan was hanging over your head once again, but when Barcelona knocks at your door you open the windows too. 

Games spent warming the bench, minutes after minutes, your confidence grows. Your positioning around some of the best players in the world is getting better and easier, the balls you play moving faster and flawlessly. 

You’re finding your place, both on and off the field.

“¿Estás en la luna?”

“Eh?”

The Catalan has to fake a cough to hide her laugh at your confused face, immediately fixing her stoic one and nodding at what Jonatan is saying as if nothing happened.

No need to say you’re matching the red training top, her smile is contagious.

The rest of the session goes on without any more accidents, you need to avoid Mapi and pair with Ingrid or Irene to survive but you manage. Even if most of your passes somehow end up finding a certain blonde in the final scrimmage.

The field is now free of all equipment, your teammates heading toward the changing room. 

All but one.

Alexia’s hanging back, not leaving the training ground with the excuse to collect some of the balls left behind. She doesn’t need to do that, obviously. But she does. She takes the time with each ball, feeling it around her feet and controlling them as second nature. 

You know because you leave the balls around for her.

As the one and only newcomer, you take upon yourself the task of helping the trainers to put the equipment away after each session. You’re happy to do that, it’s a way to become familiar with the place and the people working here. 

You noticed her habit of looking around for some balls before leaving the field so you started to hide a few for her to find.

If she knows, she doesn’t say anything or care.

~

Three years of falling asleep with your hand on her chest, her heartbeat as the only lullaby that can make you rest

Your house is filled with loud Spanish girls, gathered around the living room and screaming at the TV like the people inside the box can actually hear their strong opinions.

This particular dating show is getting largely famous among your teammates, some of them organising watching parties to live comment together. 

It’s Alexia’s turn to host and, surprisingly to no one, she’s actually hosting at your house. 

You’re not even into this show in the first place, they talk too fast for you to understand and you don’t really get who is actually flirting with who. But the relationship with the Catalan is growing so naturally and strongly, also around funny misinterpretation in Spanish and tender touches that linger a bit too long and a bit too frequently to be just friendly, so it feels meant to be. 

“¡No me lo creo, cuando le dio un beso?!” (You’re kidding, when did they kiss?!)

You offered the place without really thinking about it, she’s supposed to spend the night here anyway. How bad could it be to have half a dozen of your friends around for a bit?

“¡Joder, qué cabrón!” (What a fucking asshole!)

“Tiene más cuernos que un rebaño”

“¡Llepaculs!”

Really bad, apparently. 

Jana and Ona are literally jumping on your sofa over something a broad guy just said, definitely the wrong thing given their reaction. Claudia is muttering under her breath all night, you have no idea what she’s actually on about but Patri, sitting on the floor next to her, sometimes bursts out laughing so you let them be. Mapi is on the far side of the sofa, a frown between her eyebrows when she’s not making her opinion loud and clear - Ingrid is out with Frido tonight, that must be it. Even Marta is getting more and more involved in the shenanigans. 

It must be a great episode.

Alexia, on the other hand, is paying no attention to the screen.

You try to let the girls be, entertaining yourself in the kitchen making snacks for them, but every time you excuse yourself the blonde is ready to drag you back, fitting your body between her legs. 

All things considerate, you’re enjoying the show your friends are putting on in your living room. They’re loud and funny and passionate, but they’re also loyal and warm.

Your girlfriend’s hands are warm too, finding their place under the royal blue hoodie you are wearing. Her fingers are drawing patterns on your ribcage, sometimes letters and sometimes abstract figures. She’s not even watching the TV, she’s smiling at the way you’re taking the scenes around you in, and how your body reacts when she’s caressing a particular spot.

Hosting this watching party was such a bad idea.

When another yawn catches you unprepared, you hide your face in the hollow of her neck, a grin spreading on Alexia’s face. You can feel her lighting up.

“Cansada?” (Tired?)

“Too late for Spanish”

“Nunca es un buen momento para ti” (It’s never a good time for you)

“Watch your silly little soap opera and let me sleep, Putellas”

Alexia has to suppress her laugh, catching on to the stress in the room since the episode is coming to an end and no one is happy with the outcome.

She turns your body closer against hers, your friends too distracted to realise you now take most of the couch and you’re practically lying on top of her. The blonde doesn’t mind though, holding you firmly.

When she feels your hand grips her shirt’s front, she knows you’re gone for tonight.

You don’t hear your teammates leaving your house, their disappointment about the episode is easily replaced by teasing of the lovely scene. The Catalan doesn’t need words to scold them, not moving from her position but promising revenge in the next training session. 

Mapi is the last one to leave, taking her time to tease her friend and silently admire how happy and comfortable the two of you look.

“¡Vete María!” (Leave!)

“Estás actuando como el dueño de la casa, ¿lo sabes?” (You’re acting a lot like the owner of the house, you know?)

The red on Alexia’s face is starting to spread and her friend needs to leave before she says something that’s gonna be stuck in the captain’s head.

“Un mal dueño también, no acompañar tu invitados a la puerta” (A bad host too, not even walking your guests out)

It’s a pillow that escorts the defender out, hitting the closing door all the way through your living room.

~

Two years of heading to a future that appallingly looks a lot like the same for the both of you

“¿Quieres un bebé?” (Do you want a kid?)

At Alexia’s question, you almost choke on the glass of wine you’re drinking. 

It’s the off-season, it’s such a beautiful sunny day, it’s a dreamy vacation you gifted each other with. Why is she trying to kill you?

“Right now?”, you manage to find your words, red wine now spread all over your linen shirt. 

She better buy you a new one.

“No, mi amor, not right now”, she hands you her jacket, failing to hide her amusement and her blush.

Her smile is soft and full of affection, and you never loved someone like you love her - even if she almost killed you.

“¿Sólo por curiosidad?” (Are you asking just out of curiosity?)

“You were cute with those girls at the beach”

“I’m always cute with kids”

“Sí, tienes razón” (Yeah, you’re right)

“But?”, you’re getting nervous about where this conversation’s heading.

You just wanted to enjoy a nice date out with your beautiful girlfriend in a fancy restaurant on the other side of the world.

You both deserve some time for each other, last season was exhausting and you both played more minutes than you were supposed to due to her bothering knee and your extra hours both for club and country.

You didn’t see such a conversation coming, you still feel sand on your skin and the sun sparkling in Alexia’s eyes.

“I’m not asking to make a kid tonight”

“We could definitely try though”

“I’m asking if you want kids in the future”, she smiles and she’s playing with her hands like she just confessed stealing candies from said kids.

“Quiero un bebé un día, ya lo sabes” (You know I want a kid one day)

“¿Conmigo?” (With me?)

You reach for her across the table, holding her hand between yours like your entire existence depends on it, on letting her understand how important she is in your life and how much your life together meant for you. 

Alexia looks so insecure you’re almost scared of what’s happening in her mind, she knows you want kids once your career comes to an end and she knows you are in for the long run with her.

“Mírame, mi corazón” (Look at me)

“Mamá y Alba made jokes y noー”

“Quiero un bebé contigo, Alexia” (I want a kid with you)

“Sì?”

“To be honest, I dreamed about a little you running around and kicking a ball barefoot, but then the ball was your Ballon d’Or, and turned into a rocket destroying the entire house, so I didn’t feel like mentioning it”

The waitress interrupting you must sense there’s an important conversation happening, the blonde is giggling with tears in her eyes and you are barely sitting on your chair. He clears the table and nicely suggests the house’s dessert, you nod but ask for a couple of minutes.

“We can start trying tonight”

You love her open laugh.

~

One year of trying to tell yourself that nothing changed about the way you feel of your life here, of your life here with her

Every time you close your eyes you see the ring Alexia’s hiding in a fucking shoe box. 

One time, when she’s away for a photoshoot with a magazine you don’t even remember the name of, you find yourself digging into the closet for the velvet box, unsure of everything.

It fits perfectly, it’s the perfect ring.

You take it off so fast you’re scared you ripped your own finger too.

It’s getting all too much.

You’re sleeping less and when you do, you’re restless and anxious. It doesn’t matter what you cook, it all tastes wrong in your mouth. You’re ignoring your friends and finding lame excuses to avoid nights out that don’t involve all the team.

The only thing you’re able to focus on is football. 

You’re training harder, playing faster and decisively, spending more and more time on the pitch and in the gym, picking up extra training sessions.

You can ignore your mind if your body is louder.

But you love Alexia too much to ignore her.

When she speaks about a contract extension, about how happy she’s to captain the team for another three years and to be recognized for her pivotal role, you listen and match her enthusiasm. You’re so proud of her. You’re proud of what she achieved in Barcelona, what she means for the club and for the city and for the future of the game. 

Even if you’re thinking your time wearing the Blaugrana colours is fading, seeking a new challenge elsewhere to prove you learned from the best ones and you can now play against them.

You’re extending your stay in Barcelona just to be close to Alexia.

When she points out you need to start practising your Catalan too, because she wants your kids to speak her first language and understand her culture, you think it is admirable how strong she feels about her home and her roots. You want that for your kids too.

Even if you miss your home country and sometimes you have to remember you have your own roots and culture and memories, ending up speaking to yourself in the bathroom mirror just to make sure you didn’t forget your own language.

You’re ignoring your homesickness just to be where Alexia’s heart is.

When she shows you how much she loves you and the life you’re living and the future you’re building together, you take all the affection and support and care because you’re so happy you’re still able to give her it all.

Even if you know you’re loving her more than you’re loving your life.

You’re hating yourself just to be in love with Alexia.

There’s not a single doubt about your love for Alexia. You love her the way writers seek the right words for their poems, and sailors fight the worst storms just to get back home, and kids pick the brightest colours for their drawings.

You love her so much that there’s no way you can leave her. 

However, you can’t pretend anymore that Barcelona is your future, this city is not your home and this culture is not yours to feel.

That’s how you find yourself with a one-way flight ticket, running away from the only place you can leave without guilt.

You leave Barcelona because that’s how you’ll find yourself again - how you’ll love yourself again.

You don’t regret leaving Barcelona, you regret losing Alexia in the process.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

summary: kissing your friend aka your crush

pairings: riddle :: jamil :: vil :: idia x gn! reader

warnings: none! just fluff ♡

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Sunlight was falling through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Heartslabyul Lounge and reflecting in your tea cup as you stared at the paper in front of you. Tapping the pencil against your chin you read through the assignment again only to lean back against your seat and sigh.

“Prefect, is there anything I can help you with? Please, do not hesitate to ask me if anything is unclear.” Riddle’s voice rang through the quiet room, the scraping of his pencil momentarily stopping as he looked up at you. “I’m sure it must be hard having to study an entirely new curriculum, especially when you can’t draw on any practical experiences with magic. As a housewarden it is naturally my duty to help my peers in their education.”

You were sure Riddle’s offer to help went beyond just his housewarden duties, having become pretty close friends with you after the overblot incident in your first month. Since then, he had gradually warmed up to you, inviting you over for unbirthday parties, study sessions or a stroll through the rose labyrinth. 

So, quite inevitably, you slowly felt your feelings for your friend change. What used to be gratitude for getting the Adeuce combo off your back or joy at having someone to eat lunch with shifted into excitement at seeing him again or disappointment when you thought you had caught sight of him in a crowd, just for it to be someone else. Once you realised the situation you were in, it became even harder to hide those feelings, especially when you could feel the heat crawling up your neck when the housewarden reached over to fix your tie or straighten your uniform.

“Thank you, Riddle. There actually is something I don’t understand,” you sheepishly scratched the back of your head. Sliding over your Applied Magic homework, you pointed out the question you were struggling with. “Why is it dangerous to use a spell like this in that situation?”

“Ah, I see.” Taking a moment to reflect on how to explain it best, Riddle’s steel grey eyes flitted to the roses outside for a moment. “Try visualising the question’s context and the effect of the spell you're casting before your mind’s eye. What kind of environment are you in and how would the magic affect it?”

“Hmm, the energy released from the spell could… shake the unstable structure of the walls and ceiling and cause it to collapse? And even if it doesn’t collapse, the falling debris could still cause major injuries?” 

“Yes, that’s correct. A lot of offensive magic packs more energy than defensive magic and therefore has a greater impact on the environment rather than the caster themselves,” Riddle explained further. “Now, consider all previously used magic. In this example, a few spells have already been cast, like this shielding spell for example. How straining are they on the caster and how long do they linger in the area?”

“Uh, let's see… The elements of previous spells might react with that of the current one, causing unpredictable side-effects. And in a stressful situation like this casting an unstable spell could put more pressure on the magic user, leading to… faster blot accumulation?” The last part was a total stab in the dark and you nervously watched Riddle’s unreadable expression before he gave you a satisfied smile.

“Correct again, Prefect. It is very impressive that you have such a nuanced understanding of Applied Magic, despite not being able to use it yourself.” The gleam in his eyes was genuine before he let out a defeated sigh. “If only some of the Heartslabyul first years would give magic a second thought before leaping into action…”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, having a pretty good image of just who he was referring to. Now, with your work out of the way, you could finally let your thoughts drift. And almost immediately they went to the housewarden sitting next to you. 

Looking at him, it was almost as if time stood still. In the afternoon sun, his hair was positively glowing and his grey eyes seemed even brighter than usual. As always, his posture was perfect and poised and there was such an elegance in the way he carried himself. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was actual royalty.

When he put the tea cup to his lips and took a sip you suddenly remembered the videos you had seen back in your world where people kissed their best friend to see their reaction or to confess. Riddle probably wouldn’t approve but when he turned to you, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his lips. You’d bet on the fact that they were soft with the taste of tea…

“-fect! Prefect! Are you alright? I’ve been calling your name multiple times now.” Blinking back into reality, you came face to face with a concerned Riddle who was leaning over. Putting the back of his fingers against your forehead, his brows creased even more. “I wanted to ask if you want to try the strawberry tarts Trey baked but you’re burning up. Perhaps you should go and rest up. The rules might not state it but you can even stay at Heartslabyul if Ramshackle’s too–”

Before the thought process registered in your brain, you had already pulled Riddle closer by his collar and connected your lips. You were right. As with every aspect of his life, his lips were properly cared for and pillowy soft and after you parted, you thought you could make out a hint of sweets and lemon.

With a shocked yelp of your name, Riddle snapped you back to the present once more. Under different circumstances, the sight of the usually put-together housewarden staring at you with saucer-wide eyes and his face decorated with a rose-red hue might have been endearing but, right now, it chilled you to the bone. 

Jumping up from your seat and noisily scraping the chair over the floor, you hurriedly stuffed all your belongings in your backpack, ready to book the hell out of there. “I’m sorry, Riddle, I really have to go water the cat and feed the plants–”

“Prefect please wait.” A hand gently wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. The short-tempered housewarden wasn’t yelling (yet), which you took as a good sign. In fact, he wasn’t meeting your eyes at all. “I have to admit that was quite the surprise. But… not an unpleasant one. Prefect, if I may be so bold, do you have feelings for me?”

“Well, I don’t kiss just anybody I meet,” you awkwardly chuckled but you quickly abandoned the idea of joking yourself out of this situation at Riddle’s unimpressed reaction. With a sigh, you conceded. “Yeah, I do have feelings for you. Look, I am really sorry, I don’t know what–”

“I’m not,” he quickly interrupted. “I’m not sorry this happened. I, too, like you. More than a friend, that is. I might not have the most experience in this field but I’m willing to try if it’s with you. However, I do believe there is a proper protocol to be followed.

“Prefect, before you spring another surprise kiss on me, may I take you out on a date first?”

JAMIL VIPER

The sound of boiling water and knives moving over a chopping board filled NRC’s kitchen. At this time of day -or should you say night?- nobody but Jamil usually came here. Most students were probably already heading to bed or cramming in a late-night study session right about now but the vice housewarden of Scarabia was still diligently meal prepping for the following day.

“Could you pass me the turmeric please?” He didn’t even look up to see if you had heard him, eyes still trained on his task at hand. 

“Sure, here you go.” Sliding over the spice, you took another moment to study his side profile. As always, there wasn’t much of an emotion readable on his face but you noticed how his shoulders seemed less tense than during the day. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

After he hummed a ‘thanks’, both of you went back to working in silence. You really appreciated Jamil trusting you enough to let you lend a hand, knowing just how strict he was about being the only one to prepare Kalim’s food. The first time you asked to help, in fact, he had watched you like a hawk and your hands had never shaken more.

At first, Jamil had been a little annoyed, thinking he’d have to look after someone else instead, but as you swung by more often, he started to appreciate the company. Not only did you not cause any trouble for him but you also stuck by him even after his overblot, whereas the rest of his dorm gave him a wide berth. So he allowed you to stay and if he ever ‘accidentally’ made too much food he let you take the leftovers.

And you, too, started to enjoy his presence more and more. You didn’t necessarily need to do something together, just being in the same space while working was enough to put you at ease. That was when you realised your actual feelings for Jamil but you didn’t know what to do with them.

Besides fear of rejection, you were also well aware of his position as Kalim’s retainer. Acting out on your feelings could cause a lot of problems for him even if he were to reciprocate them. Could he even accept them?

Before you knew it, your thoughts had distracted you enough to where your knife was merely hovering over the poor vegetable in front of you. As you were about to shake your distractions away, two warm hands already took the knife and board from you.

“You shouldn’t handle sharp objects when you’re not feeling well,” Jamil sighed but you could tell he wasn’t upset with you, rather, he was concerned. “You could seriously injure yourself.”

“I’m feeling fine actually,” you said. It wasn’t like you were physically unwell.

“Are you now? I couldn't help but notice you spacing out a lot more often lately.” Quickly throwing everything into the pot, Jamil leant against the counter with his arms crossed, giving you an earnest once-over. He was quiet for a while before mumbling “It’s okay to ask for help you know. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Workaholic,” you snorted. “Between the two of us, the one in need of a break is not me. Anyhow, it’s nothing, so don’t worry about me.”

“So there is something after all,” Jamil cocked his head to the side with a raised brow. 

“Great Seven, if you must know. Yes there is something that’s been weighing on my mind,” you groaned. “Are you happy now?”

“I’d be happier if you also told me how I can help you.” 

“And if I told you you can’t?”

“Then I wouldn’t believe you.” This guy…

“Agree to disagree, then,” you deadpanned. Turning your back to hide your burning cheeks, you pretended to wipe your hands. This once, you had wished Jamil’s sharp senses would fail him but of course not. 

The irony of this situation wasn’t lost on you.

As you had your back turned, you hadn’t noticed Jamil stepping closer, so you nearly collided with him as you went to face him again. Quickly, he steadied you by your shoulders, his touch lingering perhaps a little longer than necessary.

“Prefect, let me be perfectly honest with you, I’m worried about you. You’re not normally this distracted or careless.” And whose fault was that? 

“You know it’s hard to keep saying no to you like that. But I really don’t think you’d want to know,” you sighed. 

Aside from the bubbling pot, the kitchen was quiet as you leaned against the countertop and examined your fingers. For a moment, nothing but you two in this moment seemed to exist. Jamil wasn’t bound to the Asim family and your future wasn’t so uncertain. If only it matched reality.

“Try me.” Jamil’s voice was a lot gentler now. You thought you saw his hand hover over yours for but a second, then chalked it up to wishful thinking. “You’ve shown me that it’s okay to be my own person and that it’s possible for me to have my own dreams despite my status; I’m very grateful for that. I also really like… spending time with you, so please tell me what’s wrong.”

Heaving a deep exhale, you braved yourself for whatever was bound to happen next. Maybe you were about to lose a friend.

“I don’t know if it’s wrong but… I like you, Jamil.”

As you looked up you caught a glimpse of surprise on his features before it was replaced by his usual poker face. “I’d hope so, seeing as you’ve referred to me as your friend.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know that.” If you took the leap you might as well see it through to the end. Leaning in, you placed a quick kiss against his cheek before turning and marching straight towards the door, leaving Jamil alone in the kitchen. “I like you like that.” 

Luckily, the next day was a Saturday, so you could stay in bed and pull the covers over your head. Ignoring the yelling cat in your house and the absolute flood of text notifications from what you assumed was the first year group chat might as well have been your signature spell.

Eventually, you did crawl out from under the sheets and got dressed, even if it was just because the growling of your stomach became too annoying to ignore. As you were rummaging your fridge for something edible that wasn’t tuna, the doorbell rang which was suspicious enough. Nobody ever rang the doorbell.

As you approached the door, you could already make out Jamil’s neatly tied back hair. Steeling yourself, you slowly opened the door to find he hadn’t magically transformed into someone else.

“Jamil, what brings you over at this time of day?” Forcing as much normality as possible into your voice, you hoped that maybe he had just forgotten.

“I wanted to talk about what happened last night.” So much for that. “I sent you a few messages but you didn’t respond.”

“Nya! What’s that? Are you the reason my henchman has been hiding in bed all day?” You whipped around at hearing Grim speak, promptly grabbing him by the bow around his neck and throwing him out of the dorm.

“Go play with Ace and Deuce for the day.” Ushering Jamil inside, you threw the door closed before Grim could protest. “Don’t mind him.”

“I didn’t see you at breakfast,” he started as he handed you a container with some of the food you cooked yesterday. “I thought you might be hungry.”

As on cue, your stomach growled rather loudly. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Jamil, but you didn’t have to come all the way here just for that.”

“I also wanted to apologise,” he blurted out. Ah, so he came to reject you once and for all. “I didn’t give you a proper response. Well, to be fair, you didn’t give me the time to do it.”

You bashfully looked away, standing with your back towards him, at the memory of storming out of the kitchen. Your response came out a lot more seriously though. “Jamil, I’m sorry for saying something so selfish, I know that your work–”

You were cut off by being spun around suddenly until you were looking into Jamil’s sharp eyes. “No, I’m tired of my work getting in the way of what I want. You said it was selfish of you to tell me your feelings? Then let me be selfish as well and tell you I reciprocate them.”

There was such genuine certainty in those pools of grey, you couldn’t help but reach out and cup his cheek. One of his hands wrapped around your waist to pull you closer as the other found yours. Bringing it up to his lips, he held eye contact as he placed a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“For once, I’d like something entirely to myself.”

VIL SCHOENHEIT

“Hold still.” At Vil’s commanding tone you completely froze despite not moving much in the first place. “Good. Now close your eyes.”

You did as he said and tried your best not to flinch as the cool brush touched your eyelids. While Vil concentrated on perfecting your eye make-up, you did your best not to think too hard about his fingers currently holding your chin or how the scent of his perfume invaded your senses.

Despite being close friends with the Pomefiore Housewarden, it was still quite the task not to shrink away under his scrutinising gaze, even if it was directed at his own work rather than you. How did Epel endure this every day?

Well, the first year was most likely not head over heels for Vil and didn’t turn into a stuttering mess every time he talked to him. So much for your plan to play this crush cool and be as graceful and elegant about it as possible. Yeah, there was probably a reason you weren’t a Pomefiore student.

But then again, this was Vil you were talking about. The walking, talking, breathing definition of perfection. On top of that, he was smart and hard-working with the skills to back up his confidence. Naturally, he had people falling at his feet, no matter how intimidating he came across as. Not wanting to be seen as just another one of the masses, you decided to hide your feelings to the best of your abilities.

And so far, it seemed to be working. You were a regular visitor at Pomefiore dorm, so much so, the guards already let you pass the gates as if you actually belonged there. Seeing the actor achieve loftier goals over time, surpassing others and himself on numerous occasions, was fulfilling in its own way. There was a spark  of pride every time he was chosen for a new lead role or when he had the chance to work on a new line of skin care. Yet, although you got to be close to Vil this way, it still kind of stung to know that this would be all there’d probably ever be between the two of you.

“My, I have to say, this is a job well done,” Vil concluded, giving you a content smirk. Turning your chair to face his pristine vanity. What could you say, he was right. Even though the make-up wasn’t all that elaborate or out there, you still almost didn’t recognise the person staring back from the mirror. “You clean up nicely, potato. I’ll permit you to stand by my side now.”

“You never fail to impress me, Vil. Just, how do you do it?” you chuckled, your eyes finding his in the reflection. “Normally, I would’ve called it magic, but I know better now.”

“Magic has nothing to do with this. It’s solely hard work and practice which makes perfect.” Spinning you back around, he came face to face with you again. “While you flatter me, I am far from finished. I will see this through ‘til the end and perfect this look.”

With that, Vil went back to work, prepping your lips to the point where you were convinced this would be the smoothest they’d ever be. Then, with a look of utmost concentration, he started tracing them with a lip liner before filling them out with lipstick and applying gloss after blotting it.

Despite being finished, the housewarden didn’t move away from you and you were suddenly keenly aware of the distance between you. Or the lack thereof, rather. Subconsciously, your gaze drifted to Vil’s mouth before snapping back up as you caught yourself. Your heart was racing so fast, you’d be surprised if he didn’t hear it. Was this how you died?

You knew you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, but screw it. The few months here had already put you through so much, at one point you stopped thinking things through twice and just leapt into action. If you’d learnt anything in this school, then it was that you had to take what you wanted because nobody would just hand it to you.

So, against better judgement, you closed the gap between the two of you. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise but a simple kiss from Vil was overwhelming; it was entirely too much and then again not nearly enough. If you had to find just one word to describe it, it would be intoxicating. He might be the death of you but you couldn’t care less.

Even after such a short contact, pulling away wasn’t easy. Especially because you didn’t get far before a hand at the back of your neck held you in place. Your eyes flew open to see the challenge and amusement written in his lilac ones. Not that you minded per se.

In the end, you were positively stolen of your breath whereas Vil looked as dazzling as ever, except for the slight smudge of lipstick in the corner of his lips. In your opinion it only added to his charm though. 

When you had sorted your thoughts again, your tone was slightly accusatory. “You did that on purpose.”

“Whatever do you mean?” His infuriatingly handsome smirk looked just a tad too smug for him to play coy. “May I remind you that you are the one who kissed me?”

“You weren’t even surprised!” You bristled at his act. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I can read you like an open book, sweet potato. I just wanted to test if you’d be daring enough. Seems as though you’ve passed.” Reaching out a perfectly manicured hand, Vil wiped the stains under your bottom lip with his thumb while his gaze was trained on how your mouth parted at the movement.

“Hmm, it seems I need to do this again...”

IDIA SHROUD

Standing in front of Idia’s room, you firmly knocked on the door in a very specific rhythm to let him know it was you. Otherwise, there was a rather slim chance the housewarden would even open it. But luckily for you, you were one of the only people who were granted access to his abode. 

After grumbling a greeting, Idia widened the crack of his door just enough for you to slip through. The two of you might be friends but that still didn’t mean he was suddenly a ray of sunshine, especially when it came to social interaction. As you adjusted to the artificial blue light, you were already prepared to be tackled by a certain blue-haired boy but the anticipated weight never came.

“Huh? Is Ortho not here today?” you wondered.

“Ah no, uh… Ortho’s out running errands,” Idia mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other. “You’re probably disappointed now, right? It’s like seeing your bias is not at a fanmeet…”

“No, not at all! I was just noticing it. You’re the reason I’m here after all.” Winking at him, you were already grinning at his reaction for what you were about to say. “I’m Idia-biased after all.”

And he didn’t fail you. Instantly, his eyes widened and you could practically see him blue screen behind his golden irises. Meanwhile, the ends of his long hair tinged pink as he tried to hide himself by tugging the drawstrings of his hoodie tighter. “HUH?! I- You- What– You can’t just drop SSR dialogue like that on me…”

“Why not? It’s the truth and you’re supposed to tell the truth, no?” You tilted your head to the side expectedly. 

“What’s with you and your ability to turn a supposed buff into a massive debuff?” Idia shook his head miserably.

“Come on, I’m just teasing you. Although you are my fave, that part’s not a lie.” Nudging him back into the realm of the living as you pass, you plopped down on one of the gaming chairs in front of his PC. When had you asked him why he had two, he’d said that one was for Ortho, yet it was perfectly adjusted to your height. You just pretended he had fooled you though and didn’t comment on it further. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Uhm, that show we’ve been watching released a new episode today, so maybe we can catch up on that…” At your approval, he started setting everything up as you watched his fingers fly over the keyboard with such practised ease it amazed you every time. “You still remember the plot, right?”

“Of course, who do you take me for,” you playfully accused him. “The protagonist basically gets isekai’d to a mmorpg-like world and would die almost every two seconds if it weren’t for the cooler side characters.”

“Ya, cut him some slack. Everyone else grew up there while he’s a total noob.”

“Trust me, I know the feeling,” you deadpanned. “But even you have to admit his decisions are questionably stupid.”

Idia just looked at you as if you had grown a second head. “Is the outside perspective making you realise something or what?”

“HEY! I can go three minutes without being an orc’s breakfast.”

“Only because there’s no orcs on Sage’s Island,” he taunted with a grin, showing you his sharp teeth. In return you gasped in faux indignance before dissolving in a fit of giggles.

“Just imagine there’d be a show like this about NRC…” You tapped your finger against your chin. “I wonder what kind of tropes everyone would fall into. Like, Kalim and Jamil are your classic deredere and tsundere duo.”

“Riddle is the type of crazy skilled character you wouldn’t consider at first. But then he saves everyone by casting some seriously dangerous magic or something,” Idia sniggered.

“Meanwhile Malleus is the impossibly powerful, show-breaking character who is always conveniently absent when there’s a problem to be solved,” you sighed. Turning in your seat, you leaned your head against the back of the chair. “Say Idia, what kind of character am I?”

He tried to suppress his tiny squeak at the drop of your voice. To be honest, you had never been shy about showing your affection for the housewarden but you had come to the realisation he just wouldn't catch on, no matter how many hints you threw his way. Or rather, he’d convince himself you couldn’t possibly mean any of it.

“Y-You? Uh I guess, you always jump in to save the day no matter the risks, so you’d probably be some sort of knight in shining armour type. But with a serious case of ‘chosen one syndrome’,” he mumbled. “Seriously, only crazy people would play hard mode with those gimmicky stats of yours.”

“Aww, really?” you cooed before preparing yourself to strike. “What if I want to be the love interest though?”

By the look in Idia’s eyes it was a critical hit. 

“Lo-Love interest? You can be both I think… I mean there’s a lot of people you’re close to…,” the poor guy stammered. Seriously, how could one person be so smart yet so dense at the same time? But fine. If you needed to spell it out for him, so be it. 

Getting up, you slowly came to stand in front of his chair and propped your hands on the arm rests. You almost felt bad for him with how he was staring at you like a deer caught in headlights; Idia looked as if his life was flashing in front of his eyes. But you’ve had enough of your little cat and mouse game, it was time for the chase to come to an end.

“I was talking about your story. I want to be the love interest in your story, Idia. Hmm, how am I going to get that thought through your thick skull, I wonder…” You pretended to think about it for a moment before giving him a cheshire grin. “Ah, I think I have an idea.”

By now Idia’s hair was bright pink, matching the colour of his face, and he was radiating heat like a fireplace. As much as you wanted to see his reaction to a kiss on the lips, you were afraid it would actually kill him and you didn’t want this experience to end in giving him CPR.

So you settled for a sweet but lingering kiss to his forehead. Just as expected, his skin was warm to the touch and you felt him relax after the initial tense up. Maybe it were your own rose-red glasses but as you pulled away to cup his cheeks you could swear little hearts were flickering at the end of his hair. “Pardon the straightforwardness but I really needed to get my point across.”

“Wait, so you like me?!” Apparently his brain had kicked back into action at this point.

“I have for a while now,” you laughed, “but thanks for noticing.”

“So you were serious when you got me roses? And chocolate? And said I was your favourite?” The incredible tone of his voice was simultaneously endearing and heartbreaking. How could he not notice how amazing he actually was?

“I told you, it’s the truth,” you smiled. “So how about it? Can I be your love interest? Or is my affection already high enough to clear your route?”

“Woah you’re like straight out of an otome game,” he breathed. “Is this the super secret ending you have to play flawlessly for?”

“Oh come on, Idia,” you shot him another wink, paired with a teasing smirk, “You don’t really think this is the end, do you? If anything, it’s only the beginning."

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[starskq]

SWEETHEART / C.J

Pairing ◊ mafia!sub!reader x mafia!dom!jongho (ft. yunho, wooyoung and hongjoong)

Genre ◊ SMUT, angst, fluff at the end, ennemies to ???

Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), talk about guns and killing, fingering, big dick!jongho, mention of alcohol, degrading, praising (use of good girl), oral (m. receiving), lots of dirty talk, some angst, jongho is a tease

Word count ◊ 6,5k

Summary ◊ you and jongho hated each other's guts, more you hated his guts and he loved to annoy you. unfortunately, you were part of the same gang so when your boss, kim hongjoong, paired you for a mission, you didn't really had time to interact with him

a/n: enjoy! (not proofread)

In the dimly lit backroom of a nondescript bar, the air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke and the hum of muted conversation. The room was a sanctuary, far from prying eyes and ears, where only the most trusted members of Kim Hongjoong's mafia organization were allowed. The flickering light of a single hanging bulb cast shadows across the walls.

Kim Hongjoong, the undisputed mafia boss, sat behind a battered oak desk, his presence commanding the room. His sharp eyes, glinting with a mixture of intelligence and danger, scanned the space. He wore a tailored suit, a stark contrast to the rough surroundings, and his fingers tapped rhythmically on the desktop, betraying a restless energy.

You sat across from him, comfortably perched on an old leather chair, your sniper rifle resting against the side. You were known as the organization's best sniper and assassin, never missing a target, your skill unmatched. Beside you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, was Choi Jongho. His arms were crossed, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. He was one of the top operatives, and his reputation for strength and precision was well-earned. Despite his skills, you hated his guts.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, drawing your attention. "Alright, listen up. We've got a serious situation on our hands."

You straightened, eyes narrowing. "What's going on, Hongjoong?"

"A rival gang, led by Park Jihoon, is making moves on our city," Hongjoong explained, sliding a folder across the desk towards you. "He's planning something big, and we need to take him out before he gets any stronger."

You picked up the folder and began to flip through the pages, your brow furrowing as you absorbed the details. "And you need me and Choi here to handle this?’’ You didn’t even look at him, but you heard him scoff at the nickname. 

"Exactly," Hongjoong replied, his tone brooking no argument. "You’re the best sniper we have, and Jongho is one of our top operatives. I need both of you on this."

Jongho chuckled, the sound grating on your nerves. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll make sure you don't screw this up."

You shot him a withering glare. "Watch it, Choi. I don't need you getting in my way."

Hongjoong slammed his hand on the desk, the sound echoing in the small room. "Enough! This isn't a game. You two need to put aside your differences for this mission. It’s too important to let your petty bickering interfere."

You exchanged a tense look with Jongho, both of you understanding the gravity of the situation. The room fell silent, the weight of Hongjoong's words sinking in.

"Yunho and Wooyoung are already setting up on their end," Hongjoong continued, his voice calm but firm. "They'll handle the tech and provide support. You two will be the muscle on the ground."

You nodded, the initial shock of being paired with Jongho starting to fade. "What's the plan?"

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Yunho has pinpointed Jihoon's location. He's holed up in a heavily guarded warehouse on the edge of town. Wooyoung will hack into their security system and create a blind spot for you to enter."

Jongho pushed off the wall, moving to stand beside you, looking over your shoulder at the folder. "And once we’re in?"

"Once you're in," Hongjoong said, his eyes locking onto yours, "you need to move quickly and take Jihoon out. Retrieve any data he has on our operations and get out. Simple as that."

"Simple, huh?" you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else. "Got it."

Jongho nudged you with his elbow, a cocky grin on his face. "See? We can do this, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes, shoving him back. "Don't call me that, Choi. And try not to get yourself killed."

Hongjoong watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Just get it done. And remember, this isn't just about taking out Jihoon. It's about sending a message to anyone who thinks they can cross us."

You and Jongho both nodded, understanding the unspoken threat in Hongjoong's words. This mission was more than just a hit; it was a declaration of power.

The sun had set, casting a cloak of darkness over the city. You arrived at the nondescript bar, your usual base of operations. The neon sign flickered weakly, casting an eerie glow over the entrance. As you stepped inside, the familiar scent of smoke and whiskey greeted you, mingling with the low hum of conversation.

In the backroom, Yunho and Wooyoung were already setting up their equipment. The dim light from the single hanging bulb illuminated their faces, casting sharp shadows that accentuated their focus. Yunho, with his tousled hair and easy grin, was typing furiously on his laptop, while Wooyoung was adjusting to the surveillance monitors, a smirk playing on his lips.

You walked in, your presence immediately drawing Yunho's attention. He looked up, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite sniper," he teased, his fingers pausing on the keyboard. "You ready to kick some ass tonight?"

You grinned, the familiar banter lightening the tension you felt in your chest due to the anxiety and adrenaline kicking in. "Always, Yunho. Just keep those pretty little eyes of yours on the screens."

He laughed, a sound that always made you feel a little more at ease. "You know me, I’ll never let my eyes off of you," he said.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, get a room, you two. We’ve got a mission to focus on."

You winked at Yunho before turning your attention to Wooyoung. "Jealous, Woo? Don’t worry; there’s enough of me to go around."

Wooyoung snorted. "Please, I’ve seen enough of you to last a lifetime. Let’s just get this show on the road."

The door creaked open, and Jongho walked in, his expression darkening as he saw you and Yunho standing close together. His eyes flicked to Yunho’s hand, which was resting casually on your waist, and his jaw tightened.

"Are we here to flirt or to get the job done?" Jongho snapped, his annoyance evident.

You sighed, stepping away from Yunho. "Relax, Choi. We’re just getting ready."

Jongho’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his attention to the table where the weapons were laid out. "We need to go over the plan one last time."

Yunho shrugged, his demeanor remaining cheerful despite Jongho’s irritation. "Sure thing, bossy. Wooyoung and I will handle the security feeds and create a blind spot for your entry. You two just need to make sure you get in and out without getting killed."

Jongho grunted in acknowledgment, picking up his handgun and checking the magazine. "Just make sure you do your part."

Wooyoung leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin on his face. "Don’t worry, Jongho. We’ve got this covered. Just try not to let your bickering get in the way, hmm?’’

Jongho’s eyes flashed with irritation, but he kept his focus on the task at hand. "Let’s just get this over with."

You glanced at Yunho, giving him a reassuring smile. "We’ll be fine. You know I’ve got this."

He returned the smile, his eyes softening. "I know you do. Just be careful, gorgeous, okay?"

"Always," you replied, grabbing your sniper rifle and slinging it over your shoulder, before taking your gun and slide it in your holder. 

Jongho was already heading for the door, his impatience clear. ‘’Hurry up. We don’t have all night."

You rolled your eyes as the four of you exited the bar, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside. The city streets were quiet, the usual bustle of activity subdued under the cover of darkness. You moved quickly and silently, sticking to the shadows as you made your way to the warehouse district.

As you approached the target location, Yunho and Wooyoung split off, heading to their positions to hack into the security system. You and Jongho continued forward, the tension between you palpable.

"You know," Jongho said quietly, breaking the silence, "this isn’t a game. We need to be focused."

You glanced at him, your eyes hard. "I’m always focused when it matters. Just do your part, Choi, and we’ll be fine."

He didn’t respond, but you could see the muscles in his jaw working as he clenched his teeth. Despite your differences, you both knew the mission came first.

You reached the edge of the warehouse property, taking cover behind a stack of crates. Jongho checked his watch, then his earpiece crackled to life with Wooyoung’s voice.

"Blind spot is up. You’re clear to move in. Good luck."

Jongho nodded, signaling for you to follow. You moved together, slipping through the gate and into the shadows of the warehouse. The sound of distant machinery hummed in the background, masking your footsteps.

Inside, the warehouse was a labyrinth of crates and machinery, dimly lit by overhead lights. You could see the guards patrolling in pairs, their movements precise and disciplined.

Jongho took the lead, his body tense but controlled, every step calculated. He was an expert in close combat, his movements fluid and precise. You followed closely, your rifle ready to eliminate any threat from a distance. Despite the mission’s gravity, the tension between you two simmered just beneath the surface.

You reached a corner, and Jongho held up a hand, signaling you to stop. He peeked around the edge, spotting two guards patrolling the next corridor. He glanced back at you, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

“Think you can take them without missing, sweetheart?” he whispered, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that formed. “Watch and learn, Choi.”

You positioned yourself, taking a deep breath to steady your aim. In a swift, fluid motion, you fired two shots in quick succession. Both guards dropped to the ground, silent and lifeless. You never missed a target.

Jongho shook his head, a mixture of admiration and annoyance in his expression. “Show-off.”

You smirked, moving past him. “Just doing my job.”

As you continued through the warehouse, the number of guards increased. Jongho took out a pair of guys with a flurry of punches and swift kicks, his movements precise. You covered him, taking down anyone who got too close, your bullets finding their marks with accuracy.

At one point, Jongho tackled a guard, slamming him against a crate. You watched, momentarily distracted by the raw power and grace in his movements. He caught your eye, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, breathless but confident.

You quickly refocused, shaking off the distraction and scoffing at his remark. “Just making sure you don’t get yourself killed, dumbass.”

A group of guards appeared from a side corridor, and you immediately raised your rifle, picking them off one by one. Each shot was perfect, dropping the men before they could even raise their weapons. Jongho moved in tandem with you, taking down the stragglers with brutal efficiency.

“You know,” Jongho said between breaths, “there’s something pretty hot about a woman who never misses her target.”

You snorted, but you couldn’t deny the flush of heat that spread through you. “Focus, Choi. We’re not out of this yet.”

He grinned, wiping a bit of blood from his knuckles. “Yeah yeah, details.”

As you and Jongho approached what you believed to be Park Jihoon’s office, the hallway was eerily quiet. Too quiet. The usual buzz of activity in the warehouse seemed muted, and a sense of unease settled over you.

“This feels way too easy,” you muttered, glancing at Jongho. “Something’s not right.”

Jongho shrugged, his grip tightening on his gun. “Maybe they’re just scared of us.”

You shot him a skeptical look but nodded. “Maybe.”

You reached the heavy double doors, and with a shared nod, you both burst inside, guns drawn. The room was large and cold, the air almost sterile. But it was empty. Completely empty. No guards, no Jihoon, nothing but bare walls and a desk.

“What the hell?” you said, lowering your gun slightly. “Where is everyone?”

Jongho moved further into the room, eyes scanning every corner. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

Before either of you could react, the doors slammed shut behind you with a resounding thud. You spun around, rushing to the doors. They were locked tight. You tried the handle, pushing and pulling, but it didn’t budge.

“Fuck!” you cursed, pounding on the door. “We’re locked in.”

Jongho joined you, throwing his weight against the door. “Great. Just great. This is a trap.”

You glared at him, frustration boiling over. “You think?”

Jongho’s eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t start with me. You were the one who said it was too easy.”

“Yeah, and you dismissed it!” you shot back. “Now look where we are.”

He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy flirting with Yunho, you would have noticed something was off with the plan earlier.”

You bristled at his words, stepping closer to him. “Excuse me? My focus was on the mission, unlike you, who was too busy showing off.”

“Showing off?” Jongho’s voice rose, his frustration mirroring yours. “I was doing my job. It’s not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

You opened your mouth to retort but stopped, realizing the futility of arguing in your current situation. With a huff, you pulled out your phone and called Yunho.

“Yunho, we’re stuck,” you said as soon as he picked up. “The room’s empty, and the doors are locked. We need help.”

Yunho’s voice crackled through the earpiece, concern evident. “What? How did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, casting a glance at Jongho, who was pacing like a caged animal. “We walked in, the doors shut behind us, and now we’re locked in.”

“Hang on,” Yunho said. “Let me check the security feeds.”

There was a pause, and you could hear the rapid clicking of keys in the background. Jongho stopped pacing, his eyes fixed on you as he waited for Yunho’s response.

“Alright,” Yunho said after a moment. “It looks like you walked into a decoy room. Jihoon set it up to trap anyone who got too close.”

“Great,” Jongho muttered under his breath. “Now what?”

“I’ve got Wooyoung working on the locks,” Yunho continued. “But it might take a little while.”

You sighed, leaning against the wall. “Thanks, yuyu. Just hurry.”

“We will,” Yunho promised. “And hey, don’t kill each other in the meantime.”

You chuckled despite the situation. “No promises.”

As you ended the call with Yunho, the cold, empty room seemed to close in on you. You slipped your phone back into your pocket, casting a glance at Jongho. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“So, sweetheart,” he drawled, using the pet name he knew you hated, “how’s your boyfriend Yunho going to save us this time?”

You rolled your eyes, irritation flaring up. “He’s working on the locks. And for the last time, he’s not my boyfriend, Choi.”

Jongho pushed off the wall, sauntering closer to you. “Could’ve fooled me with the way you two flirt. But don’t worry, I’m not jealous.”

“Yeah, right,” you snorted, refusing to back down as he invaded your personal space. “You’re just annoyed that I’m close to someone who’s not you.”

He chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly sexy. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.” His voice dropped a notch, his eyes darkening with something that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re way too fun to mess with.”

You glared at him, your pulse quickening despite your annoyance. “You know, if you spent half as much time focusing on the mission as you do trying to piss me off, we might actually get things done around here.”

Jongho moved even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “And if you weren’t so damn cute when you’re angry, I might actually take you seriously.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his nearness. “Back off, Choi. This isn’t the time.”

His hand brushed against your cheek, light, and teasing. “Why not? We’re stuck here for a while. Might as well make the most of it, don’t you think?”

You pushed his hand away and crossed your arms over your chest, but you could still feel the contact of his hand on your skin. “Cut it out. This isn’t a game.”

He leaned in, his face dangerously close to yours as you looked away. You could feel his breath on your cheek. “Who said I’m playing?”

His fingers grabbed your chin, making you turn your face to look at him. His eyes were intense, filled with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something that made your breath catch and you panties soaked. “What do you want?”

His gaze flicked to your lips and back to your eyes. “Maybe I just want to see how long you can keep pretending you don’t feel this too.”

You felt your resolve wavering, the air between you charged with an electric tension. “Feel what?”

He smirked, his hand coming up to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “This,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “The way your heart races when I get close. The way you can’t help but react when I touch you.”

You shivered, cursing yourself for the way your body betrayed you. “You’re imagining things.”

His thumb brushed your lower lip, tugging it just a little, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “Am I?”

Before you could answer, the door lock clicked, and the door creaked open. You both stepped back, the moment shattered as Wooyoung poked his head in, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Miss me?” he quipped.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Took you long enough.”

Jongho chuckled, the tension in his body easing. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get out of here.”

As you stepped out of the trap and back into the hallway, the charged atmosphere between you and Jongho lingered.

—————————

The job was finally done. Park Jihoon had been taken down successfully, and you and the rest of the team were back at the bar, celebrating your victory. The tension from the mission had melted away, replaced by the warmth of camaraderie and the buzz of alcohol. The bar was alive with laughter and chatter, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness of the warehouse you had just escaped.

You sat at a table with Yunho, who was recounting a particularly funny story about a past mission. You leaned in, laughing at his animated gestures and witty remarks. Yunho always had a way of making you feel at ease.

Jongho watched from across the room, his jaw tight as he observed your interaction with Yunho. He nursed his drink, his eyes dark with a mix of jealousy and something else, something more primal. He had been watching you all night, his earlier conversation with you in the warehouse still lingering in his mind.

Yunho stood up, excusing himself to grab another drink from the bar. You nodded, smiling as he walked away. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jongho seized the opportunity. He slid into Yunho’s vacant seat, his presence immediately commanding your attention.

“Having fun?” Jongho asked, his tone casual but his eyes intense.

You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your drink. “What’s it to you, Choi?”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Maybe I want to finish our conversation from earlier.”

You felt a thrill of excitement mixed with the buzz of the alcohol. “Oh? And what conversation was that?”

He smirked, his hand resting casually on the back of your chair, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t ignore the way your skin tingled where he touched you. “Still with the pet names, huh?”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You like it when I call you that. Admit it.”

You shivered, your body responding to his nearness despite your best efforts to remain indifferent. “In your dreams, Choi.”

He chuckled, his hand moving to lightly trace the line of your jaw. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. It’s not just in my dreams.”

You turned your head, your lips dangerously close to his. “You’re awfully confident, you know?”

His eyes darkened, the space between you crackling with tension. “Why shouldn’t I be? You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

You felt a surge of defiance mixed with desire. “Maybe I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move first.”

He grinned, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your lips. “Is that so?”

Before you could respond, Yunho returned with a tray of drinks. Jongho reluctantly pulled back, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Everything alright here?” Yunho asked, glancing between the two of you.

“Perfect,” you replied, your voice a bit breathless.

Yunho placed the drinks on the table, his brow furrowing slightly. “Well, if you say so.”

Jongho stood up, giving you one last lingering look. “This isn’t over, sweetheart.” He turned and walked away, leaving you with a racing heart and a head full of conflicting emotions.

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, you found yourself getting pretty tipsy. Yunho had moved on to entertain another group, leaving you alone at the table, enjoying the music. Jongho saw his chance and returned, sitting down beside you.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his voice a bit huskier now.

You looked at him, your inhibitions lowered by the alcohol. “Maybe I am.”

He smiled, his hand resting on your thigh under the table. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re tipsy.”

You felt a flush spread across your cheeks, a mix of irritation and excitement. “And you’re still a pain in my ass.”

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing your ear. “But you like it.”

You turned your head, your lips almost touching his one again. “Maybe I do.”

His hand slid higher on your thigh, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”

You smirked, your hand moving to rest on his chest. “Maybe I like the heat, Jongho.”

At the sound of his name in your sultry, sensual voice, he lost control. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you into a fierce, hungry kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the overwhelming need that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with equal intensity. The bickering and tension of the past seemed to melt away, replaced by a raw, undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore any longer. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, your bodies pressed tightly together in the middle of the bar. The noise and chaos around you seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you and the electric connection that sparked with every touch.

Jongho's hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in his hair. Your lips parted, and his tongue slipped into your mouth, deepening the kiss. You moaned softly, the sound swallowed by his fervent kiss.

Nobody in the bar seemed to care or even notice. Everyone was too drunk or high to pay attention to anything but themselves and the beat of the music. It was just you and Jongho, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Breaking the kiss only long enough to catch his breath, Jongho whispered against your lips, “Fuck, I need you. Right now.”

You nodded breathlessly, your heart pounding. “Then fucking take me.”

He didn't need any more encouragement. Jongho grabbed your hand and practically dragged you to the nearest room, his grip firm and unyielding. You followed, your anticipation growing with every step. He kicked the door open and pulled you inside, shutting it behind you with a sense of urgency.

The room was small and dimly lit, but it didn’t matter. You honestly couldn’t even focus enough on what room it was because as soon as the door was closed, Jongho’s lips were on yours again, his hands roaming your body with possessive intent. You responded eagerly, your own hands exploring his muscular frame. 

“You’ve been driving me insane, you know that?” he growled, his voice low and rough. “Always teasing, always playing your fucking little games.”

You smirked, your eyes flashing with defiance. “Maybe you just can’t handle me.”

He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Oh, I can handle you, sweetheart. Trust me.”

He kissed you again, more aggressively this time, his teeth grazing your lower lip. You moaned into his mouth, your hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his chest. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you, making your knees weak.

His hand moved to your throat, holding you in place as he kissed his way down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. “You like that, don’t you? Being put in your place.”

You gasped, the mixture of pain and pleasure sending a thrill through you. “Maybe I do. But you still have to earn it.”

He laughed softly, his breath hot against your skin. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry about that.”

Jongho’s other hand slid up your thigh, under your skirt, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear. You bucked against him, a needy whimper escaping your lips. He smirked, his eyes dark with desire. He paused, his fingers brushing against your already damp underwear, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Already wet for me, sweetheart?” he mocked, his voice low and taunting. “So fucking needy.”

You only whined in response, a small pout forming on your lips, feeling him so close but not quite where you needed him. His smirk widened, his fingers slipping under the fabric to tease you directly. “Look at you, so desperate. Can’t even hold it together, can you?”

You tried to form a retort, but the words died on your lips as he pushed a finger inside you, rough and demanding. A moan escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmured, adding another finger, stretching you. “Just a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You gasped, your hips moving involuntarily against his hand. The pleasure was overwhelming, clouding your mind and rendering you speechless. Jongho’s thumb found your clit, rubbing in circles that had you seeing stars.

“Can’t even talk back now, can you?” he continued, his voice dripping with condescension. “All that attitude, and now you’re just a whining mess just from my fingers.”

You could only moan in response, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting a spot that made you cry out.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Take it. Take what I give you.”

Your body trembled, every nerve ending on fire. He fingered you roughly, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you that left you breathless and needy. You tried to muster a response, but all that came out was a broken moan. Your brain couldn’t process anything but the overwhelming sensation of his fingers stretching you out deliciously.

“All it takes is a little pressure, and you’re putty in my hands.” Jongho said, his tone triumphant. Normally, you would feel so angry at him for that condescending and arrogant tone, but that was the least of your worries right now. His fingers felt way too good inside you. 

You whimpered, feeling the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. He sensed it too, his movements becoming even more purposeful and intense.

“You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice commanding. 

“Y-yes,” you stammered, barely able to form the word. “Please, Jongho.”

“That’s right,” he said, his voice a dark promise. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With a final, expert twist of his fingers, you shattered, your climax crashing over you with such intensity that you couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from your throat. Jongho’s name was a broken cry on your lips, your body convulsing around his hand.

He held you through it, his fingers never stopping until you were completely spent, slumping against him. When you finally came down from the high, he pulled his hand away, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

“See how good you are when you listen?” he murmured, brushing a stray hair from your face. “So much better.” he murmured, then brought his fingers, still wet from your release, to your lips. “Now, clean up your mess, sweetheart.”

Your lips parted, and you took his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean as he watched, his gaze never leaving yours. The taste of yourself mingled with the lingering taste of him, the act both degrading and strangely intimate.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a rough whisper. “Always so eager to please.”

He withdrew his fingers slowly and dragged them to tugged at your lips. The sight in front of him was sending shivers down his spine. Your fucked out look, the way your chest was heaving from your earlier orgasm, the way your eyes were looking at him with that sexy gaze of yours, it was alsmot too much for him. “Fuck, I need to feel that pretty little mouth around me.’’ he continued, unbuttoning his pants and freeing himself.

You glanced down, your eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. He was big, bigger than you had anticipated, and a cocky smirk spread across his face at your reaction. “Surprised?” he teased, his hand tangling in your hair. “Think you can handle it, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth watering at the prospect as you nodded eagerly, already way too fucked out to care about your dignity. He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your hair as he guided your head down. You positioned yourself between his legs, your hands resting on his thighs. You started with a tentative lick along his length, earning a groan from him that sent a thrill through you. Encouraged, you took the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

“Fuck,” Jongho hissed, his hips jerking slightly. “Just like that.”

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked, your tongue working along his shaft. His size was a challenge, but you were determined to take him as deep as you could, to show him you could handle it.

“God, you look so good like this,” he muttered, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect with my cock in your mouth.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making him groan louder. You pushed further, taking him deeper until you gagged slightly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He pulled back a bit, giving you a moment to breathe.

“Such a good little slut,” he praised, his words both degrading and arousing. “You love this, don’t you? Being on your knees for me.”

You nodded, unable to speak with him in your mouth. Your hands moved to his balls, massaging them gently as you continued to suck him, the taste of him overwhelming your senses.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his hips starting to thrust gently. “Take it all. I know you can.”

You relaxed your throat, allowing him to push deeper. The rhythm of his thrusts was demanding, and you did your best to keep up, your hands gripping his thighs for support. His praise and degradation only fueled your desire to please him.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his voice rough. “So good for me. Keep going.”

You could feel him twitching in your mouth, a sign that he was close. You increased your efforts, hollowing your cheeks and sucking harder, wanting to push him over the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he growled, his hips snapping forward. “Take it all, sweetheart.”

With a final thrust, he spilled into your mouth, the salty taste filling your senses. You swallowed every drop, not wanting to waste a single bit, and he groaned loudly, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

When he finally pulled out, you looked up at him, your eyes still filled with desire. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.

As Jongho helped you to your feet, you were overcome with a desperate, whiny need for him. You pressed yourself against him, your voice a breathless whimper. “Jongho, please. I need you.”

He chuckled, a dark, teasing sound. “Look at you, so needy. Didn’t know you could be this desperate, sweetheart.”

You groaned, frustration and desire making your movements frantic. “Please, please. I can’t take it anymore.”

He gripped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “You think you deserve it after being such a brat?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, your voice breaking with desperation. “Please, I’ll be good. Just… please.”

His eyes darkened with lust, and he smirked. “Since you were so good for me before, I suppose I can give you what you want.”

Without warning, he spun you around and pushed you against the wall, his body pressing against yours. His hands roughly lifted your skirt, tearing your underwear aside. “You’re going to take everything I give you, understand?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. “Fuck, Jongho. Please.”

He positioned himself at your entrance, and without any further teasing, he thrust into you roughly, filling you completely. The suddenness of it made you cry out, your hands scrambling for purchase against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled, his breath hot against your neck. “Always acting tough, but look at you now. So desperate for my cock.”

You moaned, your body arching into him. “Yes, oh god, yes. More, please.”

He set a brutal pace, each thrust deep and demanding, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “You like this, don’t you? Being used like this. Such a good little slut.”

“Yes,” you sobbed, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming your senses. “I love it. I love it.”

His hand slid up your body, wrapping around your throat and pulling you back against him. “You’re mine. Only mine.”

You nodded as best you could, your mind foggy with pleasure. “Only yours, Jongho. Only yours.”

He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he felt you pulsing around him. His other hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. “Come for me, beautiful,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. 

The combination of his rough thrusts and his skilled fingers sent you over the edge. You cried out his name, your body convulsing around him as your orgasm ripped through you. The intensity of it left you shaking, barely able to stand.

Jongho didn’t stop, his movements relentless as he chased his own release. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice laced with praise. “Taking me so well,’’ he started kissing your neck, leaving marks all over your throat and nape. 

You were barely able to catch your breath before the pleasure began building again, his pace and the friction against your sensitive clit pushing you toward another orgasm. “Jongho,” you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

“That’s it,” he growled, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. “One more time. Come for me again.”

The pressure built rapidly, your body responding to his command. With a final, powerful thrust, you came again, your walls clenching around him as another wave of ecstasy washed over you. The sensation pushed Jongho over the edge, and with a deep, guttural groan, he released inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.

He held you there, both of you panting and trembling, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless. Slowly, he released his grip on your throat and turned you around, pulling you into a possessive kiss. Your body felt like it was floating, every nerve tingling from the intensity of your shared experience. You sighed against his lips, your exhaustion mingling with contentment.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You managed a tired smile, your voice soft and teasing. “Better than okay. You really know how to wear a girl out.”

He chuckled, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re all worn out.”

You rolled your eyes, still able to muster a bit of your usual sass. “Don’t get used to it.”

He laughed again, the sound warm and genuine. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But right now, I think you need to get home and rest.”

You nodded, too tired to argue. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Jongho helped you straighten your clothes, his touch surprisingly tender given the intensity of the moments before. He guided you out of the room and through the bar, his arm securely around your waist. The noise and chaos of the celebration seemed distant, your focus entirely on the man beside you.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air was refreshing against your flushed skin. Jongho led you to his car, opening the passenger door for you with a small, endearing smile. You chuckled a bit at his gentlemaness and got into the car. He closed the door behind you and walked around to the driver’s side. 

Once he was in, he started the car and glanced over at you, his expression soft. “You really are something else, you know that?”

You turned to him, your smile tired but genuine. “So are you, Jongho. Thanks for tonight.”

He reached over and took your hand as he drove. “Anytime, sweetheart. Now, let’s get you home.”

The drive was quiet and soothing, the city lights blurring into a comforting haze. You leaned your head against the window, feeling safe and content for the first time in a long while. 

Despite the exhaustion, you couldn’t help but banter a bit more. “You know,” you said, your voice drowsy, “I still don’t like you calling me sweetheart.”

He smirked, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “Too bad. I think it suits you.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Guess we make a good pair.”

You laughed softly, the sound fading into a comfortable silence as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. By the time Jongho pulled up in front of your place, you were already sleeping like a little baby. 

[cosmicisms]

alhaitham nsfw headcanons

minors do not interact.

gn!reader.

warnings: mentions of spanking, humiliation, edging, penetration, degradation.

author’s note: god i’m so down bad for this man 💔

- definitely a top. will laugh and taunt you if you try to top him. it’ll likely take a good amount of convincing (and some of his pride being swallowed) to allow you to top him.

- when alhaitham slips his cock into you, it’s after a big amount of foreplay. he’s not one to rush things, understandably wanting to enjoy the moment and get the two of you into the right mood.

- namely by touching your erogenous zones and some dirty talk sprinkled in here and there.

- if you get needy and try and move onto his cock, he’ll slap your ass firmly and tut with a teasing lilt to his voice. if he’s especially mean, he’ll prolong the amount of time until he lets you have his cock.

- alhaitham takes his time when it comes to sex, as mentioned already. when he finally slips his aching length into you, he takes a moment to fully embrace the feeling.

- as soon as he bottoms out, he’ll squeeze your hips and tip his head back slightly, shutting his eyes and swallowing, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

- the sensations are so much! alhaitham will try to cover up his noises of pleasure through grunts and deep, shaky breaths, swearing lowly.

- “f-fuck, you feel so good, y/n…” alhaitham slowly starts to move, thrusting slowly to allow you time to process everything.

- on that note, he keeps a keen eye out for your reactions. he just can’t seem to tear his gaze away from you, enamoured by the way you squeeze your eyes shut and grab at the sheets.

- he likes it rough, whether that be slamming his hips into yours without pause, or when you drag your fingernails across his back.

- however, he will stop if asked, and will talk about upping the intensity before actually initiating anything. he just wants to make sure you’re enjoying yourself too.

- alhaitham will lightly degrade you, nothing too mean (unless you want it, of course). usually he’ll growl and whisper things like: “that’s it, take it like a whore”, or “you’re my good little slut, aren’t you?”

- will shower you with plenty of praise after you guys are done though! strong arms wrapped around your form, chests pressed flush against each other’s, alhaitham will kiss your forehead and mumble into your skin; “you did so well, love,” and he’ll thank you for letting him indulge in you.

- this man has a lot of pent up energy, despite his aloofness. he’s definitely into some hardcore stuff, on top of being rough. things like spanking, bondage, humiliation, etc.

- loves edging, too! alhaitham gains pleasure from watching the crystalline tears slide down your face as he denies you of another orgasm, mercilessly grinning down at you. he’ll dance his fingertips along your sensitive parts, never truly letting you reach your high.

- on top of that, he’ll make you beg for him. not satisfied until he sees your face contort with the embarrassment and your eyes well up with tears.

- cannot stop touching you when he’s not edging you, though. bro does not know how to keep his hands to himself. he’ll constantly have them running all over your body, mapping out and learning off where your most sensitive areas are. for later use <3

- speaking of sensitive parts, alhaitham’s ears are his weak point. caress or even gently nibble at his ears, and he’ll be biting back whines as his face flushes red.

- agh~! you… huh? n-no, i didn’t like that…” he’ll try to cover it up, but judging by the smirk on your face, he knows his secret is unfortunately out.

- overall, he’s a passionate lover, even if physical touch and words of affirmation aren’t his main love languages. he’s just so needy and whipped for you, he just can’t help himself!

- his aftercare is nice. always keeps water and a few snacks at the ready once you’re finished. will also draw a bath for you, and offer to help you get cleaned up. however, his self-control could slip, so tread lightly <3

[thedevillionaire]

Chosen

Much shorter than it has any right to be, given how long it's taken me to actually finish. Plot? Uh, no, not really. But anyhow... She's been away. He's been unwell.

---

He looks at her like she’s the most welcome hallucination he’s ever had.

Kia closes the door slowly behind her as she takes in this chaos of a makeshift apothecary, the loungeroom in an utter state of disarray and her beloved not faring much better, red-nosed and unshaven and dressed in a black silken pyjama and robe ensemble which, while inarguably stylish, was very definitely not his usual late afternoon wear.

And not at all what she had been expecting to come home to.

A miscellany of potions and concoctions and gods-know-what-elses lie scattered across the coffee table. A teacup, mostly empty. Two tissue boxes, one apparently even emptier than the teacup. Some sort of book...no, manual. Looks instructional. A wilderness of failed curatives.

Oh my god.

She walks further into the room. The air smells of menthol and embers.

“Babe, what are… Are you… What have you even been doing h…?”

You absolute beautiful total disaster.

“Trying not to… hh-HH …let thi…this-damn-cold…” Cerberus turns from her as his sentence dissolves, the syllables collapsing against one another in a desperate rush to give way to greater need and deep breath of purpose, and he raises a finger in urgent, undeniable pause. "Huh-TSSCH-uu!" Hurriedly claiming a series of tissues in a brief, expectant hiatus, he surrenders completely and sneezes again. "Hh-AATSCHH-uu! *snff-FF!*" A quiet groan in the aftermath. He excuses himself, adds another tissue to the set, blows his nose and immolates the lot. "Pardon me." He sighs. "Trying not to let this godsdamned cold win,” he manages, with an accompanying sharp sniffle. Neither heavy congestion nor the way his voice cracks slightly lessens any of the seething distaste in his tone.

“Oh, honey.” Kia brushes some errant hair back from his face. :Bless you.: She touches a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re getting your ass kicked.”

She offers him a soft smile to hopefully lessen a little bit of truth's sting. "C'mon, shift over," she says gently as she joins her beloved on the couch, nestling up beside him, resolutely ignoring every caution he tries to give her advising against doing so. Notably half-hearted as those cautions are.

Because while it’s true that he very much doesn’t want her to catch this, he’s also well aware it’s more than likely already too late for such concerns. The entire house is probably some sort of incubation epicentre. And, sincerity of expressed warnings aside, the entire sorry vista surely constitutes warning enough. He's fairly certain he couldn't look more biohazardous if he tried.

Cerberus sighs again, sniffling again immediately afterwards, and gives his bonded a look of resignation.

Further elaboration hardly seems necessary.

But also he doesn’t press the issue because in truth the last thing he wants is to send her away. He’s not even sure he has the energy to insist on it, anyway; he’d be infuriated about this entire ridiculous circumstance if he wasn’t so damn exhausted. So, small obligatory protests done, with another damp sniffle Cerberus shifts some disarrayed blanketry out of the way and wraps an arm around Kia’s waist, drawing her close.

Her soft perfume of violet, strawberry and vanilla is lost on him anywhere outside of memory right now, but her presence is more than enough and he closes his eyes for a moment, just appreciating the simple fact of her being here beside him at last; he's missed her immensely, constantly.

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to come back, if you wanted me here,” Kia muses as she nestles further into his heat, adding, “It wouldn't have been a big deal,” without accusation. She leans her head against his shoulder and looks up at him with gentle azure gaze, her unspoken thoughts of I’d always choose you. How do you still not know that? readable despite her not voicing them.

And he does, of course, know that – in fact, it’s the very reason he wouldn’t ask. Cerberus sniffles thickly, wiping his nose. “Ah, love. I'd hardly ask you to put yourself anywhere near this—" He gestures around the room in a general presentation of contempt for the whole situation. "—vortex of infectious absurdity,” he concludes, thick congestion lacing his words. He clears his throat but it doesn’t make any notable impact against the wreckery his voice has become. "And it's about your... *SNFF!* ...your autodoby."

Kia peers at him. “My…what?”

“Your au…” Cerberus, all too aware that several critical consonants are unequivocally not working for him, rolls his eyes at himself. Honestly. Taking another fresh succession of tissues from a very rapidly depleting supply, he blows his nose forcefully but completely ineffectively.

He excuses himself once more and tries again; it goes equally badly.

Kia, baffled, raises her hands in a friendly but very clear nope sorry babe no idea expression, accompanied by a gentle little laugh that she just can’t help.

A long-suffering and immensely frustrated look comes her way, followed by a resigned, defeated sigh as her beloved entirely gives up. “Free will.”

For a moment, this makes even less sense to Kia. “Why would…” she begins, but cuts herself off in triumphant realisation. “Oh, autonomy!” She laughs. "Oh, sweetheart."

“That’s what I s… hh-hh! I...” And even this is hijacked, and the Demon king capitulates entirely, doubling over desperate into crooked elbow, “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!” 

He takes some moments of bleary recovery, Kia's heartrate spiking alongside the :Gods, forgive me: Cerberus Mindsends her.

"Oh, bless you, babe." Kia doesn't try to fight the thrill that flashes through her and she wraps herself around her bonded to kiss him again; a kiss deeper, more needful, than is probably wise. But wisdom isn't what she's craving right now.

“You know what? You’re going to stop talking and let me make my own choices.” She brushes a stray lock of hair from his eyes, touches the softest of lingering kisses to his forehead and meets his gaze. :Talking really isn't working out for you anyway.: "And besides—" Another kiss, deeper again, and she presses her arousal against his, salacious, wanton.

:—you know we both want the same thing.:

---

[so-long-soldier-writes]

More Than Friends

kai parker x reader (80s!kai x witch!reader)

summary: your "more than friends" status with kai is revealed when you lose hold of a silencing spell. jo, of course, has a lot to say about it.

tags: jo's boyfriend, fluff, smut, choking, vaginal sex, pet names, overstimulation, loss of consciousness, spell failure, dysfunctional family, mentions of child abuse, siphoning

word count: 2.9k

“Do you hear that?” 

The smallest sound of a girl’s whine is heard over the movie playing. The boy watching the screen turns to his girlfriend to see if she caught it, too. 

“Jo?”

“Hm, what?”

“Did you hear that noise?”

Suddenly, on the tv, a woman cries out. The killer has slashed her throat.

“That one?”

“No, you goof, the one coming from upstairs. I thought we were home alone tonight.”

“We are. Aside from Kai, but Kai is Kai. He doesn’t leave his room.”

“Well could he be doing anything to be making that noise?”

“Jackson, I don’t even hear a noise. But no, he has strict orders from Dad and he knows the consequences if he breaks them.”

Jackson stills. Maybe he didn’t hear anything. In the back of his mind, he knows he did, but if Jo says it’s nothing, it’s nothing. Besides, if it is her brother, he figures it’s best to leave it alone. Jack’s never met Kai - Jo’s been adamant about that - but he does know the basics from her and her siblings. 

You can’t touch him, and you really shouldn’t talk to him. He can hurt people just by touching them, and will hurt people to get his way. 

Jo’s little sister, Clara, had said to him once: if Kai doesn’t wear his gloves, Daddy gets mad, because then he can hurt us. He did it to Sarah once and made her cry. 

That alone is enough to keep him away from the boy. And despite his curiosities, he refuses to pry, mostly out of fear of Jo’s dad. Even without the dangerous son, the man is scary. The first time he showed up on the doorstep to take Jo out on a date, he had nearly threatened him. Sure, that’s a typical dad thing, but something tells him that Joshua Parker wouldn’t hesitate to actually harm him if he thinks it’s necessary. Maybe that’s where Kai gets it…

An eerie chuckle from the TV snaps the boy out of his thoughts as Chucky approaches his next victim.

Jo curls into her boyfriend, sweating. “Maybe we should’ve watched “Children of the Corn” instead,” she mutters.

Oh, yeah, that’s another thing… 

Jackson’s mind flashes back to about an hour ago, when they were picking the movie.

“Not “Children of the Corn”,” Jo shudders, “that boy shares a name with my brother.”

Kai’s real name is Malachai. How creepy is that?!

“Eh, I think we’re better off with the killer doll,” he decides, also perturbed by the name. 

As Jo cuddles into him, he starts to forget the sounds he thought he heard upstairs. 

~~~~~

You’re breathing heavily, hardly. Kai’s hand is around your throat as he rocks his body into you. He pulls out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, and you swear his cock is reaching your stomach. His other hand holds onto your waist to keep you in place, probably leaving a bruise you’ll find in the morning. Every so often, he ducks his head to nip and lick at your breasts. Or, he’ll lock eyes with you, and you’ll feel your pussy fluttering, wetness pooling. 

“Kai,” you mutter, eyes fluttering. Between his grip and the pleasure, you’re having trouble forming words. 

And normally you wouldn’t care, but one thing’s wrong: the spell is breaking, you can feel it. You’re losing your concentration, and quite frankly, your consciousness. 

“Kai. Sl-slow d-, wait-” the last word turns into another moan, and you’re unable to get his attention.

You can feel the energy of the magic in the room as it weakens. Though as the spell fizzles out, your orgasm draws nearer. Harder, even, as if the magic is channeling itself into you instead of holding up your silencing spell. Kai repositions his fingers on your neck, but he doesn’t slow down. There’s no telling what Jo is probably hearing now. The thought of her telling on you two starts to fill you with fear. Sweat beads at your forehead and you fight to cry out your boyfriend’s name as he keeps pace.

“Cum for me, Princess,” he whispers into your neck. 

The pet name takes you out, quite literally. Forgetting all about Jo and the spell, your orgasm hits you. White spots take over your vision and your mouth becomes dry. Equal parts pain - from his grip on your neck - and pleasure - between your high and his, occurring at the same time - are felt throughout your body. He spills into you, filling you so much that it already starts to leak out. Your legs are shaking hard, and for a second, you black out. 

When your head slacks onto the pillow, Kai stops abruptly and removes his hand from your neck. “Princess, are you okay? Wake up, please, come on.” He gently taps the sides of your face to bring you back to consciousness. With no luck, panic starts to rise in his chest. “Y/N, please.” Grabbing the water bottle beside the bed, he puts the cool metal against your neck, hoping a temperature shock will do the trick. 

Immediately, your eyes open. You wake gasping, still feeling the effects of your high.

“Hey, gorgeous, you okay? Sit up, let me get you some water.” Kai fully pulls out of you, then comes to your side to tuck a few pillows under your head. He holds the bottle as you drink, playing with your hair gently at the same time. 

Finally, you’re stable enough to look at him. Before you can get a word out, he’s already talking. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay? I think I choked you too hard, or maybe I should’ve slowed down. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

His concern melts your heart. “Shh, it’s okay,” you sit up to cradle his face, assuring him he didn’t hurt you. “I’m totally fine, and you didn’t do anything wrong. I enjoyed every minute of that, Kai.”

“You blacked out because of me.”

“Yeah, because you can fuck me that well, Kai. That’s something to be proud of.” 

He tries to smile, but you can see he’s still worried.

“I promise I’m okay.”

“Okay… can I at least take you downstairs to go get some orange juice? I don’t want you passing out again. Just in case.”

“Of course.” But as soon as you say it, you realize, “wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Part of the reason I think I blacked out was the spell.”

“What? What spell?” 

“Kai - the silencing spell.”

His blood runs cold, “oh fuck.”

“I lost it right before we came. I think I tried to warn you, but I was too lost in the feeling.”

“Oh fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry! You tried to stop me, this is my fault!”

“No, no, no, hey, baby, come here.” The boy avoids your eyes, so you hold his face to make him look at you. “It is not your fault. And even if it was, I don’t care. It’s not the end of the world if your innocent little sister hears us.”

“She’s my twin,” Kai misses the point. 

“Kai.”

“Hm?”

“She’ll live.”

“But if she tells Dad, we’re both screwed. He’ll ban you; he’ll do a stupid little spell that’ll keep us apart.”

“Then we’ll just have to bribe her. Chocolates?”

“Y/N, she’s daddy’s good little girl,” he mocks, “she’ll tell.”

You try to hide your anxiety. If Kai knows you’re worried, he’ll be ten times as worried. “Well, we can’t undo it. What’s done is done.”

“Maybe you didn’t lose the spell?”

Biting your lip, you answer, “no, I definitely did. But it’ll be okay, okay? Let’s just… go downstairs, like you said. Because to be honest, I am still a little out of it,” you try to refocus his anxiety onto your black out instead of his fear, “and if she brings it up, I’ll handle it.”

Thankfully, he nods. 

“I promise you, it’ll be fine, Kai.” You give him a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I trust you.”

“I trust you, too, pumpkin.”

Minutes later when you’ve dressed, you and Kai head downstairs, hand-in-hand. He’s still adamant about getting you an orange juice, and has now suggested several snacks, too. Though the sound of the TV being on as you near the kitchen has him holding your hand more tightly. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “maybe it blocked us out.”

The way the Parker house is designed, anyone in the living room can clearly see anyone in the kitchen, and vice versa. The fridge door, however, blocks the person looking inside it. So the minute Kai opens the fridge, and you’re left standing by the sink, Josette’s and Jackson’s eyes turn to you. 

“Hey, guys. Are youuuuu-?” You drag out the last letter, pointing at the unfamiliar boy. 

“Jackson, Jo’s boyfriend.”

“Right.” You knew she had a boyfriend, but had never met him. Kai hadn’t, either.

“And who are you?” He shoots the question back at you. 

Jo, however, cuts you off before you can even start to speak, “Kai’s only friend, that apparently, is a little more than a friend.”

So they heard. Whoops. 

“Yeah, um, about that…”

“Dad gave you one rule when you started hanging out with my brother, and it was to not touch him. Do you not remember that?!”

“Oh but how could I not? His skin is so soft,” you whine. 

“Y/N!”

“Jo, how am I not going to touch him? He’s my best friend.” You notice her eyes harden as soon as you say that. “What am I supposed to do if he needs a hug? Or if we’re watching a movie and our shoulders touch slightly? Ooh,” you make a wide gesture with your hands, “scandalous!”

“Y/N, this isn’t you.”

“Oh, it isn’t?! I’m sorry, was I supposed to come here almost every day to see you and pretend I didn’t notice your brother being left out of things? Forced to wear those stupid gloves because your daddy thinks he’s trying to hurt you? Not even allowed to talk to people, not allowed to leave his room half the time, not allowed to go on these stupid family functions you always have? Even I got invited to one of those, and I’m not even a part of this family. Josette, it’s insane! No wonder you think he’s crazy, you don’t even know him! You’ve never even let boyfriend over here meet him. Whatcha gonna do if he marries in? Say, ‘oh that’s my twin brother, but you’re never even gonna make face-to-face contact with him’? That screams dysfunctional family, and that’s not Kai’s fault!”

This interaction wasn’t going as planned. You hadn’t meant to start a fight with your ex-best-friend, you wanted to convince her not to tell on you and her brother. Well now she definitely will. Yet, you can’t stop. 

“We are a dysfunctional family because of him, Y/N! He’s the reason we’re like this.”

“Why?! Because he was born different?! Because he doesn’t have ma-”

“Shut up, Y/N!” Her eyes widen as she scolds you. 

Jo never says anything remotely close to a bad word, nor does she raise her voice. Her reaction only means one thing: Jackson doesn’t know. He doesn’t know they’re witches. Holy shit. You look over to Kai, both of you wearing shocked expressions. 

The house goes quiet. Jo’s embarrassed by her own outburst, and everyone else is too speechless. 

Finally, she calms, “just stop. I’m sorry I yelled. I don’t want to fight with you, I just want to know why you’re with him,” her face has a look of disgust, “like that.”

You sigh, “I’m dating him, because I love him, Jo. Because I let him in, and got to know him, and fell in love with him. He’s not some rabid animal trying to hurt you for fun, and he’s certainly not the man in the house you should be fearing.”

“Wait, me?” Jackson asks, confused, and ruining the seriousness of the conversation. 

“No, idiot. Her dad.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s scary.”

Kai finally comes out from behind the fridge door. You knew he was hiding, but now it seems he’s gotten the courage to face his sister. Jackson stares at him, seeing him for the first time. Without glancing up at them, he hands you a glass of orange juice and a snack.

“Eat that.”

“What is it?”

“Cheese blocks. One sec, I have crackers, too.”

“So you’re Mala-”

“Don’t call him that,” you hear Jo mutter.

“-Kai.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re-”

“Y/N.”

“Soooo, best friends,” he points to you and Jo, “then curious about brother, but can’t be friends with both, so you chose brother, now you’re dating?”

“Yep,” you confirm with the same tone your boyfriend just used.

Kai then rises from the pantry floor, crackers in hand. “Eat this, too. Salt good for dizziness.”

“Why are you dizzy?”

Jeez, this boy is nosy. 

“You wanna take a guess?” You can’t help being sassy to him. 

“Oh.”

“Anyway… we’re going to go watch a movie now. Leave you to Chucky.”

As you turn to go, Jo stops you. “Wait, Y/N-”

“What?”

“I just… I’ve never felt comfortable with you two alone together, but now that you’re… doing that?”

“Jo, never in my life have I felt in danger around Kai.”

“Yeah, but one wrong,” with Jackson facing you, she makes the gesture of a siphon touch to your arm, “and you can,” she then makes one imitating someone being killed.

You take a deep breath. “Said it once, I’ll say it again. Kai’s not the man in here you should fear. That being said, you tell him you heard us, we’re all in deep shit. Including you, for having your boyfriend over when your parents aren’t home.”

“Dad loves Jack, he won’t care.”

“Believe what you want, but all I’m saying is that I snuck into Kai’s window the other night, and we both overheard Joey getting punished for just kissing a girl at school. You cuddling after what’s probably acceptable Daddy Parker hours, and us actually having sex, plus you not intervening with that? We’re all fucked.”

Her face goes blank at your words. “So you really did?”

“What’d you think we were doing? Hardcore cuddling? Nah, our first time was a loooonnngg time ago, Josette.” You pause, waiting to see if she’ll answer. Nothing; too shocked, apparently. “But yeah… don’t let your daddy find out his kids are growing up. I mean, I guess no dad likes to know their kids are doing that, but yours is particularly aggressive. I literally heard the slap to your brother’s face through the walls when he admitted he kissed some Clarissa girl he likes. I flinched. Kai didn’t. Wake up, Jo, your dad is a monster.”

And with your last word spoken, you take the snacks back upstairs, Kai close behind you.

The walk isn’t interrupted by a single voice, and it stays that way until you turn to your boyfriend. You’re on his bed while he’s just watching you.

“Come here, baby,” you make grabby hands towards him like a child, “let me cuddle you. I’m not gonna let him hurt you. Jo won’t tell; she knows I’m right.”

“She won’t change her opinion of him. She’s always going to be a suck up.” He caves and joins you on the bed, laying between your legs, head on your chest. It’s his comfort position whenever he feels scared: close to you, inhaling your scent, feeling your soft breasts on his cheek, hands intertwined. 

“Yes, but she won’t tell about us, because she can’t do that without spilling her own secrets. One of them being that Jackson doesn’t even know she’s a witch. Like, that’s insane alone.”

Kai doesn’t answer, but you feel his tension ease up slightly. 

“Hey, you need to relax a little more, okay? Take some,” you hold out your forearm for him to siphon, knowing your magic in his bloodstream usually calms him. 

“No. Can’t hurt you.”

“Baby, it never hurts.”

“Already hurt you once today.”

“That didn’t hurt, either. I loved that. And I love this.”

He doesn’t answer. 

“C’mon, Kai. You need it, and I need it. Makes me feel closer to you. Y’know, I can feel it, just a little, when my magic’s in you. It tingles my stomach. If I relish in it too much, makes me want you. Makes me wet,” you whisper, letting your breath hit his ear. “And I know you can feel it, too.”

Your words affect him, and soon, he becomes hungry for the need for your magic. The need to feel that same tingling effect, now amplified knowing you feel it, too. Slowly, he reaches a hand out, the one that’s not linked with yours, and grasps your forearm. As he focuses, the site glows orange, and the energy transfers between your bodies. You both moan lightly, and you cradle his head closer to you. 

“There you go, my angel.”

After a few moments, he breaks contact, but that’s all that’s needed to have you swirling around his bloodstream. The sensation is there, and it’s strong, but you can tell Kai is too tired to take advantage of the feeling. Sometimes, it’s so intimate it puts him to sleep. Like this time, where you can feel the heaviness in his eyes from your linked bodies. It starts to make you tired, too. 

“Take a nap, it’s okay.”

“I love you,” he mutters, almost inaudibly. You feel the words from his lips moving on your chest, though, and know what he’s said.

“I love you, too.”

[the-kingshound]

I think my hound would find taking care of baby animals and/or children to be extremely therapeutic. A way to prove to themselves that their hands can help and not just hurt, that they can hold something small and vulnerable and completely dependent on them and keep it safe. Maybe a litter of abandoned puppies. They'd wake up in the middle of the night every 2 hours to feed them, they'd rock them to sleep, they'd tuck them under their clothes to keep them warm since i don't think heating blankets are a thing. How would the ROs be at co-parenting or convincing the hound to get them to a proper foster dog parent instead?

Arthur: this man has so much dad energy, coparenting is in his blood. Of course he can wake up and feed the pups too, of course he can shush and pet and cuddle them while he's during a Round Table meeting. Frankly, they remind Arthur of caring for young Mordred, of giving him time to warm up to them. They make Arthur so nostalgic.

Evaine: a tough one. They coo and adore the pups, but if MC asks Evaine to help in their care, Evaine is suddenly drawing back anxiously. They don't think they have the ability to care for them, they wouldn't even trust themselves to be alone with the small pups because they'd panic. For MC, they would try to work around their heavy discomfort, but it would show.

Yniol: Yniol is ready. They are already accustomed to night patrols, and to entertain and care for small children. They have the patience and the consistency. Honestly, they do not question MC. They just accept that it's to make the Consort fell better and they are ready to pull their weight, by caring for the pups in everything they need (despite how tired they'll likely become).

Morien: Morien is looking at the pups in MC's arms fondly, but as soon as the argument of shared caring is brought up, the physician is begrudgingly, if bitterly (because the pups are cute and warm), making a list of all the reasons why Morien, and MC too, shouldn't take this responsibility. But they can be convinced. They just need to be shown that it will be alright.

Gwyar: younger Gwyar has their doubts about this. Between MC's duties and theirs, they think they won't be able to care properly for the pups, who need lots of effort especially when little. Older Gwyar, however, would probably agree much more easily. They are a bit more disillusioned, and their mentality would be "... oh, well. Why not, if they'll bring some happiness to us both."

[klausluvr]

Sittin’ Hot All Over Him

After almost ruining one of Klaus’ deals by teasing him so much, you try to convince Klaus to forgive you despite you not being sorry at all. Unable to refuse you, Klaus gives you what you want — but he wants you all over him.

Contents: oral (male receiving), thigh ride, lots of spit in this one

“No, you won’t have me tonight.”

Her face fell, her eyebrows curling up. “Klaus, I was only teasing.” she whined as she followed him into their bedroom, an innocent-looking frown pulling at her face.

He scoffed and shook his head, taking off his leather jacket and closing the door. “Only teasing? You almost fucking ruined a very important dinner. Aren’t you lucky I mastered the art of restraint, my darling girl? Something you could only aspire to. How embarrassing.”

“I just want you. Is that wrong?” she asked, removing her fur shawl and holding it in her hands.

“Want is a very casual choice of word for the way you’ve been acting tonight.” he said jeeringly, inching toward her like a lion. “You were moaning in my ear about how you need my cock inside you, you were clawing at my shirt, you were grabbing at my cock while squeezing your thighs together. You were a hot mess.”

She shrugged, glaring up at him back as he wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled at it gently. “You’re going to punish me for desiring you, baby?”

Klaus laughed lowly, tilting her jaw with his index finger. “You’re a whore.” he said. “A needy, desperate whore without an inch of restraint in her body.”

“Add gorgeous to that list,” she teased.

He ripped the shawl out of her hands and threw it to the other side of the room. His breathing sharpened, his eyes widening in frustration with his lover. “I’ll add pathetic to it, too.” he said, seething, before crossing to their bathroom.

She kicked off her heels and started humming to herself. Watching the bathroom door, she slipped off her dress, leaving her in her white lace bra, panties and stockings of the same shade. She brushed her hand through her curls and sighed, a smile now curling on her face.

Klaus had grown used to her teasing. From the beginning of their relationship, she had been drawing him to the brink of insanity almost on the daily. Pulling at him, whispering filth in his ear, wearing revealing clothing whenever she could — she’d mastered the art of teasing. And she loved it; to soak herself in the sexual energy any chance she got, to lure him into it like a siren, driving him crazy. But Klaus was strong.

With a will of a man who has been through it all, Klaus was not often reactive to her teasing these days. It was becoming harder to bring him into her world involuntarily. So she’d grow impatient, boldening her acts, ensuring she was the centrepiece of his attention, even when solving detrimental disputes for his city. After all, it was not a crime to desire your lover. She was free from shame.

Klaus returned with a slightly reddened face and a few buttons of his shirt undone. The front of his hair was damp from washing his face. He fluttered his lashes a little at the sight of her, avoiding her eyes and instead staring intently at her hips, her waist, her legs, her neck and her breasts. Her beautiful skin he knew was so soft, so hot for him all the time. He watched her near closer to him, swaying her hips as she moved. When she was standing before him, she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled his body into hers. “What do I need to do to have your love tonight?” she whispered, kissing his neck after.

“You won’t.” he deadpanned, pushing her off of him.

She frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. She made her way to their bed and crawled on the purple silk sheets. She laid on her stomach, kicking her feet and leaning on her elbows. “I’m sorry, baby. If I knew you’d get so riled up I wouldn’t have done it.”

“That’s exactly why you did it!” he shouted. She jumped at the height of his voice all of a sudden, but ultimately kept her composure. “You live to enrage me. That’s your problem. You just can’t help yourself.” His hand flinched to punch the wall beside him, but he restrained himself before he did so. He didn’t want to scare her.

Klaus groaned to himself, rubbing his face. He had no idea what to do with her in this moment. It was true he enjoyed the teasing, but her behaviour tonight blurred his mind so much that he almost lost a deal with an opponent. Of course, he didn’t, but it was a close call. And she didn’t care at all.

She didn’t much care for his political pursuits. All she cared for was his safety and who he was besides his greed. She lusted for him madly beyond his power. Which at first was a breath of fresh air — now, however, it was distracting.

Still, he didn’t know what to do with her. He wanted to ignore her entirely, but she was too captivating to miss. How the lace hugged her skin, how the bra brought her breasts together, the colour of the garments deceiving the eye, wiping them of her sinfulness and introducing a false innocence.

He would submit to her behaviour again, but he wouldn’t fuck her like she wanted. He knew that as long as he was with her, she would be having the time of her life — but she didn’t deserve him on a silver platter. No, she would work for him. She would be all over him, melting warm like chocolate all over his body.

Klaus joined her on the bed, sitting at the headboard and spreading his legs wide. She rushed over to him, crawling in between his legs and climbing up his torso to kiss him.

She enraptured him in a slow, open-mouthed kiss, moaning softly into his mouth. Klaus held her by her jaw, caressing her cheek with his thumb, his other hand at her ass.

“I need you.”

“Then you’ll behave.” he said, lifting the hand at her ass to grope her breast. He massaged it, coaxing her to let out a hot breath.

His lover nodded, her lashes fluttering.

“Good girl. Take off my trousers and use that mouth of yours for somethin’ other than driving me insane, would you?”

She giggled as she moved down his body. “You saying my skills don’t drive you wild, baby?”

Klaus laughed a little too. “I don’t wanna hear you talking for a good while.” he said, half jokingly.

She pulled down his trousers and his socks from his body and tossed them across the room. Looking into his eyes, she slowly ran her hands up his legs and onto his thighs before slowly pulling down his boxers, revealing his springing hard-on.

She wrapped her hand around it, jerking it slowly from its base to its tip as she kissed all around his cock. He groaned and pulled her hair, a warning to quit teasing. She let go of him and spat into her hands, using one to massage his balls and the other to pleasure him at his base as she swirled her tongue around his tip, kissing and sucking at it softly.

Klaus let out a moan, spurring her on to take more of him in her mouth. She arched her back and shook her ass as she pleasured him.

She was bobbing her head and massaging him at the base of his cock and his balls, shooting pleasure all throughout his body like fireworks. Klaus buckled his hips, spluttering moans, his gaze set on her.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Your bad behaviour is worth all this. You’re such a good little whore for me, my sweet girl. So good for me.”

She arched her back more and sucked harder. As much as she loved to be degraded, praise sent her body into overdrive.

When he was close, he pushed her off of him gently. “You alright?” she asked, spit dripping from her bottom lip.

He nodded vaguely, his eyes half-shut. “Get on my thigh.” he demanded.

His lover smiled wide, ripping off her panties and tossing them, too, across the room. Klaus spat on his hand and lubricated his thigh with it before she sat on him. She moaned loudly, a sense of relief washing over her. She looked at Klaus, tears in her eyes, mouth open, and began grinding.

At first her hands scratched up and down her body, grabbing at her own hips and breasts. Klaus soon leant forward a little bit to hold her neck. Her eyes kept wandering down to his cock, her mouth watering. So she spit onto her hand again and stroked his cock at the same speed of her grinding. Klaus removed her bra, moaning at the sight of her naked breasts.

They both gasped together as their pleasure intensified, the fire burning high in their loins. She held onto his shoulder with her other hand for some support. He dropped his hand to her waist and directed her to elongate her grinding. When she did, she mewled at the new burst of pleasure. “God, I love you, baby.”

“I love you, my darling girl.” He said, kissing her messy.

When they broke from the kiss, she pulled his face closer, resting her cheek on his as she ground on his thigh. She upped the speed, nearing closer to her release.

Klaus spat on his hand and stoked his cock with her. She moved her hand to his balls so he could stroke himself at the speed he needed to.

She soon recognised how close he was. “Cum all over me, baby,” she begged, moving the hand on his balls to hold her breasts together. She leant back.

Klaus came hard, cum shooting out of his cock and all over the pair of them. He groaned her name, his cum all over her chest and his thighs. His lover grinned as the warmth hit her skin.

The sight of his undoing spurred her own. She moaned his name too when she came, looking into his eyes. He held her neck with one hand and kept the hand at her waist with the other as she came down from her high. “Ooh, good girl,” he cooed. “That’s my girl.”

She brought him into an embrace when she had rode her high, sighing into his neck. He wrapped her hands around her and kissed her forehead.

“As much as I resent your teasing, you are always onto something spectacular.”

She laughed softly. “Klaus, my love, I just want you.”

Tagging those that voted Klaus / wanted to be tagged: (Tumblr won’t let me tag some! So sorry!)

@klaustopia

@mayiahsblog

@nelyasflowergarden

@hyperactivewhore

@fawn1ess

[shijjii]

More than feeling rested

So- I've been trying to work on my dungeon meshi character. I've somewhat built a small story for them but the thing is that I am kind of scared that the lore of them might be a little Mary Sue? I hope not, honestly. I'll probably tweak some stuff around as I try to finish drawing them but I don't really have the energy to draw right now so here I am writing! I hope everyone enjoys it! Pairing: GN!Reader x Chilchuck Tims Genre: I guess kind of fluff? It's mostly cuddling. Though, TW because Drinking and Smoking is mentioned in the story (reader is the one smoking). Also some cussing. A bit of OOC from Chilchuck tho Word count: 1,148 words Reader appearance/notes: Tall-man!Reader

The sun was setting the horizon when the party came out of the dungeon. Laios thinking that he wants to go to the market to buy some stuff that they'll need in the next dungeon crawl, Marcille and Falin going to the inns to rest, meanwhile, Chilchuck, Namari and you decide to hit the taverns and release your chaos to it.

Namari was laughing out loud as Chilchuck tells her a story that happened a while back. You were hanging about while contently drinking your pint of beer. "Yeah, it was so shit quality!" Chilchuck exclaims. As you observe how he explains his story, you notice the bags under his eyes. He looks very tired despite his smiling face.

Namari bursted out in tears as they continued on, as she was doing so, the half-foot's attention turned to you "what about you, ____? What's a moment you'll never forget?" He asks you, eyes filled with warmth and amusement after him and Namari talked

"Accidentally tripping down a flight of stairs and dying is something that's stuck to me-" Both Namari and Chilchuck bursted out laughing "is that why you always stick close to the wall???" The dwarf asks, you nod at her question embarrassed. Downing the pint of alcohol you had and pulling out your pack of cigarettes to avoid looking at them.

"it happened once but it traumatized me a lot, okay?" You tell them but they wouldn't stop snickering at it.

"you know, usually, people die because of monsters" Chilchuck started "but somehow, you died because of your own clumsiness?" He teases you, swiftly taking a swig from his own pint as you huff a puff of smoke and groan at his teasing "shut up" you grumble. Carefully taking the ash tray in the middle of the table and removing the excess ash from your cigarette.

"may I?" Chilchuck asks for your cigarette, if he can have a drag out of it too, while Namari gets her stuff "right, I'm leaving you two here. I'm gonna go home and rest" she sleepily tells them. Both you and Chilchuck wave good bye at her as Chilchuck continue to take a drag from your cigarette "hey now, I know I allowed you to have some but don't forget to give it back" You joke, making Chilchuck throw his head back and bark out a laugh

Apologizing, he gives it back to you and both of you continue to talk with each other as the night progressed on. Topics getting deeper and serious as the two of you drink more.

"yeah well, things happen, and no matter how long we've been, it doesn't change the fact that she doesn't want me anymore" He whispers under his breath, talking about his wife always puts him in a solemn mood but he didn't really know who else to talk about it to.

You hum and ponder what he just told you "While ye might think that yer so old now, you still have life ahead of you. I'm sure ye'll still find sumone you can be wiz" you shrug, words slurring a little bit from all the alcohol, and Chilchuck took notice of this

"I think we should head back to our lodging" You look at the sky and then inside the tavern, seeing what time it was on a clock, both of you would take a lot of time getting back at the inn the other party members are in.

"M'house is somewhere here...." You tell him slowly, trying to regain some of your soberness "if ye want, we can just use that instead'f walking all the way back to the inn" Chilchuck hummed to himself before nodding. "That's a good idea actually" He mumbles, both of you paying for your drinks

"lead the way, ____" He calls out. The both of you walked towards your home. Sometimes, eyes looking up at the sky to see the stars on it, making the two of you smile in content. The cold gust of air hitting your faces making you a little bit awake as you two rounded the corner and see a little quaint house.

You slightly fumble with the keys and open the door "make yerself at home" You tell him before going inside and trying to see where you kept your extra bed for him to sleep on. Thirty minutes had passed and you've yet to find it, your head slowly spinning with the world around you and Chilchuck knew it was getting bad for you.

"Right, this what we gonna do" You start, taking a pillow from your bed and putting it in the middle "this is going to be our divider. That side is yours and this side is mine. Good night" not waiting for his response, you kick your shoes off of your feet and laid down on the bed. The last thing you hear from him is an amused scoff before the other side of the bed sinks unto someone's weight.

The next morning, you can hear pitter patter of the rain hitting against the windows, only a small ray of sunshine peaking through the dark clouds. Despite this gloomy weather, you felt incredibly warm. Delving deeper into the blanket and holding the pillow even tighter than before, you just wanted nothing more but to fall asleep once again.... That was until you hear a small peep from something-or well, someone- your eyes open snap to see a half-foot in your arms, red as a tomato

Immediately letting go of him, he coughs through a clenched fist and awkwardly scratches the back of his head "I'm so sorry" you start, not looking at the half-foot.

"Uh" You give him a little glance as he speaks up "don't apologize. That was uh...." He kept looking at you then at the floor "That was the best sleep I got in a while" He admits, a tinge of redness reaching his cheeks and ears.

"It's been a while since I slept that good" You blink at his confession, not sure what to do. A long silence embraced both of you until you reached out to him and pulled him back into bed. "What are you-" He asks flustered

"This doesn't go out of this room..." You tell him with furrowed eyebrows as you cuddle him in bed "It's still early and it's raining... Might as well make the best of it" He hums awkwardly, letting himself melt into your touch "Might as well" He agreed with you, shuffling a bit to make himself comfortable in your hold and put his head against your head "This is more than feeling rested. Feels like heaven" He whispers against his palm as he feels your hand running through his hair gently.

Both of you enjoy the cold morning by cuddling in bed, promising to never talk about this interaction outside of the room.

[hools]

Sorry if this is a weird question, but how do you come up with your drawings? What does through your mind while making them? I find your compositions so gorgeous and intriguing but I can't really figure out how you approach things since everything's very shifty and abstract. It's really gorgeous work, I'm so glad I discovered your art :,)

hey first of all this isnt a weird question at all & i'm really glad you enjoy my art heheheheheehe. there's an incoming large largely unformatted block of text that i hope you dont mind!

Honestly there are a billion things going through my mind at a time while I'm drawing and they all sort of bump into each other and cancel each other out like opposing particles. If you've seen any of my streams i'm usually very fast and iterative in a lot of my process and i rarely ever slow down even past the early parts like thumbnailing and sketching. i kind of let my hands do the talking more, yknow? but even then theyre never talking about a single thing at a time. everything interacts with everything, which is probably why i always end up getting lost and meandering. composition is not independent from color & value and neither are they from texture and perspective. its hard thinking of all of the ways they mesh and react to one another so i spend less of my energy thinking and more of it doing, and then assessing once something interesting comes about it. i guess then i prioritize my Hand Movement Actioning and Eye Vision Seeing over my Brain Neuron Assessing. but even though iterations can come and go quick this kind of informed throwing-against-the-wall isn't really the Fastest. but its fun. and you get to stuff all the unused ideas in your pocket for later.

even though i did say how connected everything is i always seem to start with composition. it kind of affects and informs everything the most at least on an individual piece level. with thumbnails & composition in general i think youre supposed to think huge right. so i Always think huge. push everything as much as you can. start with a crazy angle (not necessarily angle meaning "perspective" but like an angle between two lines) and border your scene within it. take an already steep foreshortening and steepen it further with the transform tool & see what shapes form from the empty & filled space. shrink your subject to only fit 3/4ths of the canvas and build around it to make it work. blow things up (enlargen) and blow things up (remove & obliterate). with composition you have so much room for fuckery if you give yourself the grace to accept the fuckiness.

and i guess this freedom to fuck around and iterate and build and build and build upon comes from how most of the time my initial ideas are very. vague? abstract like you've said. sometimes its Just a song or a song lyric and nothing else (no characters to attach to just the feel and my gut). sometimes its a less than 5 word phrase i felt strongly about throughout the day. in my me-only discord server i have messages in #to-draw channel that just say shit like "something about guitar straps" "thanks for knowing me!" "angel don't look at me" "DITHER QUEEN" (<-been meaning to make something with that). for things that have specific guidelines i spend more time thinking conceptually (the "rare animal" coelacanth drawing being an example) but otherwise it mostly comes out after. again. the first strokes. after you put the meat and bones on the canvas. an artist at a workshop i was at last year when i was in my own head about Needing to have a fleshed tangible Profound concept before being able to start something told me not to underestimate the stories that can be told just by your hands. and i think thats what stuck with me the most.

& one last thing i wanna mention is how despite how much i revel in the chaos of the process ive found how important limits are. i don't like cutting back on everything but i like cutting back on some things. sometimes i cut out backgrounds for solid fills and i love them that much more. sometimes i have little subconscious rules in a piece that i try not to break to keep a little level of consistency. if somethings a big wonderful mess already then i love a limited pallet and i love keeping parts empty and i love being able to breathe a little. yknow. but still go over the top in the other parts you have so much permission to. less is more but have a little more in your art than less. YKNOW?

but yeah thanks again for your kind words and wanting to listen to me talk. i havent been drawing much at all so these arent too fresh on the mind but i think i got a lot of what i wanted to say out. i hope u and others can get things out of this! if i made any sense <3

[ggomos-maribat]

NMWYCAM [bonus deleted chapter]

This is a scene i wrote out but couldn't fit into the current chapters :)

Originally Damian was going to find out that Marinette knows their secret in another way...lol he was gonna get badly injured as Robin and Marinette saves him but reveals she knows his identity

***

2:51 a.m. Marinette was still awake, despite the kwamis telling her off. She found herself having excess energy that night, so she decided on sketching under the yellow desk lamp with some music on. All was calm and peaceful until her phone buzzed.

Damian: Hello

Damian: Are you awake? Can I call you right now?

Her keyboard popped up for the reply, but more messages came in.

Damian: You're probably sleeping

Damian: ...

Damian: sorry

Damian: I shouldn't have bothered

Damian: sweet dreams, Marinette

Smiling, she went ahead and pressed the call button. When it took him several rings to answer, she pictured a panicked Damian fumbling to answer his phone.

"What's up?" She asked.

"Did I wake you?" His warm voice filled her ears. "Sorry . . ."

"No, no, I was awake. Couldn't sleep." Marinette propped her legs up on her chair, tucking them to her chest. She saw a groggy Tikki peek out of her small blanket but she waved the kwami off to go back to sleep. "Is something the matter?"

"No, I . . . I was just lying in bed and got the sudden urge to talk to you," Damian recounted. "Is that strange?"

Marinette brought the back of her hand to her reddened cheek. This boy. "I think that means you miss me, Damian," she laughed. "How was patrol?"

"It went smoothly. We disrupted a smuggling operation and put Riddler back in Arkham. You? What were you doing?"

"Ah just drawing out some ideas. Nothing too important." Snuggled in her blanket under the calm night and talking to Damian was like a tight embrace, Marinette realized. "I hope you didn't push yourself too hard."

A scoff sounded out from Damian. "Father threatened to bench me when I chased after the Riddler. The others kept watching me like I'll disappear into thin air."

"They're just worried about you, you know. As they should be."

"I only need you to worry about me." A long pause. Then a long sigh. "Sorry, I . . . I don't know why I said that."

Marinette hummed, feeling more heat crawl under her skin. "It's alright. They say your inhibitions are looser at night, especially when you're tired. But it's okay to be vulnerable; it's just me."

"What do you mean by that? 'It's just you'?"

"I mean I understand that you're being honest about whatever you say to me right now. I won't judge you for it. I won't even bring it up tomorrow if that's what you want." She pressed her phone closer to her ear. "I don't want you to feel that you need to keep something to yourself just because it's me hearing your words."

". . . How come you always say the right thing?"

"I guess it's my forte?"

"What if I can't say the right things?"

"Just talking to you like this is enough for me," Marinette said. "I can be the one good with words, and you can be the one good with actions. You always are."

"That's not fair at all. You are also good with actions."

That elicited another laugh from her. "But you are very good at taking care of people through your gestures. Not a lot can do that."

"You're the only one who has ever said that."

"'Cause I'm the only one who notices."

Soon, whilst they talk, Marinette noticed that he was mumbling the ends of his words. Later on when she finished her amusing story about a deal with a client, she didn't hear a reply, but instead, light snoring at the other end of the line.

He sounds so relaxed. Now she had the urge to look at his sleeping face.

"Good night, Damian," she whispered. "I miss you too."

[factual-fantasy]

26 ASKS! THANKS EVERYONE! 🥰✨

Me too man. But my mental and physical health is kind'a tanking atm. I just don't have the energy to pick up a passion project of that scale right now..

If you're patient and stick around though, we're bound to see more of my FNAF security breach AU someday.. Once I can get on top of all this crap I'm dealing with-

I AM restingggg 😫 I haven't left my home for any significant amount of time for like 3 weeks- I cant rest any harder! XD

@beryl-shade

Google seems to suggest that an oreo cookie character already exists. "Prime Oreo Cookie" I believe..? :0

@solst1ce-sketches (In response to this post(?))

:DD Thank you! I'm glad you like him!! :}}

:}

(First repair guy) (Second repair guy)

They are different repair guys, and they both do not have a name.. 😔

@lobitowhiteeliaz

Not quite sure what you're asking.. so I'll just answer in multiple ways!

My favorite movies of all time are Pixars cars 1 and 3. I cannot watch either without crying 😭 they are my absolute favorites and I hold them very close to my soul 💖

Still to this day, even after all this time, Gravity Falls is my top favorite show. Despite all the cringe I made for it back in the day- it still holds up as my most beloved show I've ever drawn about.

As for fandom, like the people? I thiiiink the FNAF fandom was my favorite to interact with..? I remember a lot of interaction with the fans in general, which meant a lot to me :)

Bibi and Cici are just odd little critters XD though Bibi is very cat-like in nature and Cici is based on a mouse :0

I'm not sure how they feel about being dolls. I'd assume they don't really mind it! XD

Not sure what you mean but I assume you're right XDD

@something3706

Thank you! Though I don't take requests, sorry!

She is indeed a kid, but that's becuase all I had to go off of was her info picture and fanart I saw of her. For some reason a lot of art I saw of Sally depicted her as this total gremlin character that's always getting into trouble.

So I thought hey! Why not make it so she fell to "Earth" as a little tot and was raised by Poppy? In present day she could be like 13-15 and her chaotic energy would make sense and be fun to mess with!

Though after watching GTlive do a vid on the Halloween update, I realize that I wrote her personality completely wrong. Sooo I miiight need to rework her entire story and character- whoops! <XDD

Considering Sally is gonna need some restructuring, I'm not sure where Poppy stands atm-- <:DD

@fawncr33k

I saw your comment on a post that shows you now know the answer to this- but just to clarify it for everyone else!-

Octo and Seafoam are not gay, nor a couple. Seafoam's heart belongs to Blue Beauty! Him and Octo are just friends/brothers.

Also thank you! :DD I'm honored!

@neo-metalscottic (Post in question)

AAAA Thank you!! :DD I've very glad you like them! :D And I'm not sure how a meeting with the pirates and cowboys would go.. its funny though becuase a lot of Canned Tuna's design was copied from Canned Beans cookie. Even the name! So if they ever met maybe they'd have a stand off XDD

I haven't thought much about how the Captain would react.. maybe the Vegimals are something he just cant wrap his head around and chooses not to talk about it XDD

BUT CALICO JACK!! SEEING VEGIMALS BEFORE?? WHY HAVEN'T I THOUGHT OF THAT!! The Vegimals could be these huge fish creatures when they grow old! And Jack could have SEEN ONE/HEARD OF THEM BEFORE!! Why didn't I think of that?? XDD I'll have to draw something like that sometime!!

@yourstrulylightstar283

Thank you so much!! :D My favorite Donkey Kong game has to be the only one I've ever played, the original Donkey Kong Country!

I also loved Diddy Kong racing, though I see that it doesn't count <XD

@astaherussy

I've heard of Hazbin Hotel, and Helluva boss. I saw the Hazbin pilot ages ago and have seen some episodes of Helluva.. Though they're not really my taste.. <:/

@badlyblurry (Post in question)

:D Thank you! Now I didn't really do any proper research after the fact so I hope the Octonauts info is accurate! <XDD

THANK YOU!!! :DDD

@djh4l0v3rv3r

I think Poppy Playtime it pretty neat! Though I haven't seen a playthrough of chapter 3 yet so I haven't formed an opinion on the smiling critters. :0 Other than their smiles are WAY too big and creepy XDDD

Holy cow.. what a crazy read! I'm not much of a gamer myself but I have GOT to watch somebody play this! :00 Thank you for the info! :D

@raptor1312

WAIT THIS GAME WAS ON THE WII?? I was thinking it was a fangame made for PC??? Like on steam?? ITS A LEGIT RELEASE?? WHAT???

(Post in question)

It was sooooo much tedious coloringggg... 💀💀 Worth it tho XDD

(Post in question)

AAAA IM GLAD YOU NOTICED!! :DD

@shaziztrazh

AWWWW!! HOW COOL!! I love the mermaid approach!! :DD SO PREBBY!!! ✨🤩✨🥥✨

Also thank you so much!! :DDD

(Post in question)

XDD Turns out ditto is my spirit Pokémon-

@nunyabusiness459

AAAA I'm so glad you're interested in him! Uuuunfortunately,, looking back it seems the only artwork I have of Melvin is just a bunch of strange angst for no good reason-

So I'm afraid I don't really have any artwork to share,, and most of the story has already been told.. but this ask makes me want to come back to Melvin sometime! Maybe expand on his story more, or just draw him again in general!

So thank you for the ask/interest, perhaps we'll see more of Melvin someday! :D

[the-baby-storyteller]

Cw for minor whump

Adoption Whump

Think a teenaged character in an orphanage or foster care. They’d always had a relatively good life; despite being orphaned their home was always filled with lots of other kids like them and they were happy. But, they’d heard horror stories of the horrible lives kids lived after adoption. Lives of abuse, of fear, of pain. They’d be put through endless torment, used, thrown around and beaten up, degraded simply because they were helpless, without a family, without a way to call for help. They shuddered at the thought, but surely, those stories were just that right? Stories. They were satisfied with their comfortable life, and if they ever got adopted, well, they were sure it couldn’t be that bad.

They were right on one front.

It wasn’t bad.

It was worse than they could have ever imagined.

The home seemed nice from the outside, a beautiful exterior, lush greenery, fountains sprawled over the grounds. Everything appeared to be perfect. To the average onlooker it would seem like a luxurious place for anyone to reside. It only made the reality of the situation ten times worse. Once inside, though still littered with decoration, the atmosphere was different. A threatening and frightening energy lingered in the air and the teen turned slowly toward their new owner. And that’s when it began.

The pain.

If asked, the teen couldn’t tell you what their daily life there was like. It was all jumbled together and fuzzy, their thoughts incoherent, clouded by suffering. There was only one thing that remained stable the whole time.

Hurt. Beatings. Pain. Anger. Hands. Kicks. Punches. Pain.

Each day was filled with impossible loads of tasks to accomplish.

Clean every inch of the house and do the laundry. Cook dinner and take care of my kids. Go out to buy groceries and entertain the guests. And I want this done before I get back.

They didn't talk to anyone except to be reprimanded for things out of their control. Every word said to them was meant to beat down, to crush. And when, not if, they didn't complete the overwhelming amount of work...well, they didn't like to talk about what happened then.

They went through life with eyes glazed over and a mind that constantly wished to be away, away from life, away from reality. The only thing they wanted was to leave.

Then, they were adopted by a rich person.

When they heard the news, they grew even more draw in and frighteningly quiet. Their old foster parent was overjoyed to get rid of them which only made them more fearful for what was to come, terrified of what their new parent owner would do to them.

They arrived at the new house and were in awe of how grand it was. Every crevice of the exterior was fully decorated to display their wealth. But, the only thing it could make the teen think of was how much worse they would be hurt here.

They heard footsteps approaching and immediately directed their head downward, trying to radiate submission and not wanting to anger their new owner.

The footsteps got closer and they hunched in further as their heart rate sped up, until finally two feet stopped in front of them. They held their breath for a moment, waiting for something to happen, a word, and order, a sigh, a kick or a slap even. A hand suddenly came into their view and they held back a flinch, but it just slowly rose until it gently met their cheek.

"Hi." A soft voice said.

Their heart jumped and they widened their eyes. That voice was smoother than anything they'd heard before.

"Can I see your face?"

The teen blinked dumbly for a moment, then registered they were being spoken to, not spoken at and had to hold back a jump at the unfamiliarity of the question. Why would they ask me-

"What's your name, love?"

The teen realized too late that they'd taken too long to respond, lost in their own worries and thoughts. They quivered slightly at the consequences of ignoring their owner and being reproached already, but..

'Love...'

"W-Whumpee..." The teen whispered quietly, lowering their eyes and wishing they could curl in on themself and become smaller. They couldn't ignore a direct question, but were terrified knowing talking was a sure way to get into trouble. But the hand that was still on their face wasn't letting them escape.

Against their expectations, they weren't scorned or spit at for saying their name. Instead they heard a light response.

"Hello, Whumpee," They could almost hear the smile (smile?) in the voice, "My name is Caretaker."

"Would you look at me, dear?"

Their breath caught and their eyes darted around as their brain hastened to find the right thing to say. They couldn't in good conscience look their owner in the eye but the certainly couldn't disobey an order. Amidst their wrestling, they must have absently nodded their head because, to their terror, the hand on their cheek started raising their face.

Their breathing picked up but there was nothing they could do except let it happen until they were finally face to face with the person who would control their fate for the foreseeable future. They expected to see a harsh, stony face to match their status, but instead were met with overwhelming calm, a warm aura, and a tender charm that made them want to melt. Caretaker oozed control and confidence, and the teen could tell they held a lot of power; they held themself high, were dressed in sophisticated clothing, and Whumpee had to crane their neck to meet their gaze. And yet, there was a soft feeling about them and their face was filled with kindness.

"Thank you." Caretaker smiled with squinty eyes that reminded them of the little kids at the orphan home.

The teen had never been more confused, afraid, and in the presence of such serenity all at once.