#except for like three of these these are all from fics because the drawings are originally for fics xD

[mila-beedoodling]

You see when you have the urge to do something? Well, that

(all made with my art xD)

[kellystar321]

.

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - perfect match

a/n: watch me suddenly appear out of nowhere after the school year has finally ended to post something!! i'm sure absolutely no one is surprised that tsukishima is the centre of this fic, but tbh idk how to feel about it (it's definitely longer than my usual ones but i didn't proofread it, so idk if the lenght is an advantage or not) but i hope you'll like it ^^ with school being over for the next two months i'll finally have time to write, so expect more works soon!!

summary: you and tsukishima decide to help your friends get together, but the plan is long forgotten when you realize what your own feelings are.

warnings: nothing really, canon yamayachi (my loves), some light swearing, bad writing

tsukishima kei did not expect any of his friends to bother him in the middle of the night. hell, he didn't even expect any of them to disturb his alone time at all. and yet at exactly 2.34 in the morning, right as he was about to turn off his currently binge watched tv show and go to sleep, he felt his phone buzzing on the nightstand. 

his eyes focused on your name, written in white font on his phone screen, surely shocked by the sight.

'why are you calling me at 2 in the goddamn morni-'

'is yamaguchi interested in anyone?'

your question caught him off-guard even more than the call itself, his brows furrowing in a weirded-out look. 

'if you're asking for yourself, i'm positive that he is not interested.' 

tsukishima heard a sigh of annoyance on the other side of the call and could only imagine the exact look on your face in this very moment. 

'well, thank god, because i'm not asking for myself.' you said. there were muffled sounds of someone preparing food in the background. 'i'm asking for yachi.'

the blonde boy smiled unconsciously.

'he does like her.' the boy stated, turning off his laptop as he put it back on the desk. 'so much so, in fact, that it can be kind of annoying sometimes.'

you squealed with excitement, a giggle leaving your mouth at tsukishima's remark. 

'perfect! now, listen carefully.'

that singular phone call created an alliance between you and kei. an alliance with only one goal; getting your two best friends to finally confess to each other. to both of you, it was almost infuriating how blind they were; how they didn't notice just how obvious it was that they both shared the same feeling. constant blushing at as little as a mention of the other's name, the stolen glances, the very obvious pining - all of it seemed to be non-existent in the eyes of both yamaguchi and yachi.

but lucky for them, you had a plan.

his eyes lingered on you for a few seconds, as if awaiting a sign from you. tsukishima still thought of your 'master plan' as rather silly, but seeing the determination on your face, and the frown that appeared when he called your idea stupid was enough for him to sigh and go with it this once.

the four of you were currently occupied with studying for a math test coming up next week, everyone nose deep in their notebooks. well, everyone except for kei.

the boy cleared his throat almost theatrically, drawing the attention of the three of you.

'yamaguchi, i think i'll have to pass on the movies this weekend.' he said, the tone of his voice as lifeless as ever. 'akiteru insisted that i go to one of his games, so i guess you'll have to take someone else.'

the freckled boy looked a little troubled upon hearing the information. both you and tsukishima were well aware that the tickets to the cinema were already paid for; yamaguchi would definitely be sad if it all went to waste. 

'well, i guess i can ask hina-'

'yachi, didn't you tell me last week that you wanted to go to the movies with someone?' you barged in before the boy could even finish his sentence, your friend freezing in her spot at the mention of a conversation you had not that long ago, cheeks flushed pink at the mere thought of going somewhere with yamaguchi one-on-one. 'maybe you'd fill in for tsukki?' 

the girl glanced at you, panic in her eyes as an awkward silence filled the room, everyone waiting for her to answer. you gave her an encouraging smile, as if trying to non-verbally tell her to go for it, to use this as a chance to get closer to the boy she liked for so long. 

'if yamaguchi doesn't mind...' she mumbled quietly, head turning to face the boy who was already shaking his head. 

'of course i don't.' yamaguchi smiled, his small dimples showing up in the process. 

you glanced over to look at tsukishima, a triumphant smile on your face as if you just won a volleyball tournament. his hair was slightly messy, and his glasses were sliding off his nose, two of the top buttons on his school uniform unbuttoned, showing a bit of his collarbones. surprisingly enough, the blonde boy smiled back; a small, quick smile that your eyes barely noticed. you had no idea what it was, but something about that singular smile made your heart beat faster. 

don't. the main focus of this entire thing is to get yachi and yamaguchi together. not to think of tsukishima and how attractive he looks- 

shit.

developing a crush on tsukishima kei was certainly not part of your plan. 

at first, you tried ignoring it as much as you could, focusing solely on your friends and getting them to date. as time went on and yamaguchi and yachi started getting closer, you almost felt a sense of relief - you could finally stop spending so much time around tsukishima, which made your chances of getting over your stupid crush higher. 

but it wasn't as easy as you thought. tsukishima was intelligent, pretty, and his snarky remarks and judgy personality actually drew you to him even more with each passing day. through the countless conversations and numerous phone calls, he proved himself to be more than just a salty, mean guy that everyone viewed him as.

'soon enough, they won't even need our help.' you mumbled to yourself as you opened your bento box, a smile on your face as you noticed your mom homemade onigiri inside. 'i don't know what i'll do with myself then.'

tsukishima scoffed, closing the textbook in front of him.

'maybe start focusing on your own love life for once.'

'hey! it's not my fault that i'm a good friend.' you stated, mouth full of food, as you looked up at your friend sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking through the tasks assigned for next week. 'besides, it's not like i'm the only one.'

tsukishima adjusted his glasses, looking up at you for a mere second before focusing back on his notebook.

'touché.'

'oh, come on.' you whined out, dissatisfied with the lack of response from the blonde boy. 'you won't miss this even a little bit?'

alright, maybe just a bit-

'no.' tsukishima stated firmly, fixing his posture as he highlighted one of the important sentences written down. you heard a bit of hesitation in his voice, and the few seconds of silence before hearing an answer couldn't help but make you wonder. you decided to ignore it this time - he was focused on something else right now, there was no need to disturb him. 

'do you think yachi will like my outfit?'

tsukishima was sitting at the edge of his best friend's bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking up to see the twelfth - no, thirteenth shirt that yamaguchi has tried on already. the boy sighed, turning his device off. 

'it's your first official date, i'm sure she doesn't mind what you wear.' he stated, gaining a frown from yamaguchi.

'you didn't answer my question.'

'alright, i think she'll like it.' the blonde haired boy said, reaching out for a bag of chips, opening it with a loud sound. 'but i'm sure she'll focus more on the date itself rather than what you're wearing.'

ever since announcing to their friends that they're going on their first official date, both yamaguchi and yachi were full of stress, constantly overthinking every little detail from their outfit to whether or not the date will go well or not. tsukishima found it rather comical - it was only a date after all. why stress over it so much? he never went on one, obviously, but he always thought that when the day came, he'd approach it calmly.

'do you have any tips on how to not freak out?' yamaguchi asked suddenly, catching his friend off-guard. 'during the date, i mean.'

'how can i know? i've never gone on one.'

the freckled boy looked at tsukishima, a confused expression on his face as he processed his words.

'oh.' he paused for a second, his voice quieter when he continued speaking. 'i thought you and y/n were, you know, a thing.'

huh?

to say tsukishima was shocked was an understatement. he genuinely had no idea what to say; he never even let a thought of you and him being more than friends, 'partners in crime', as you loved to say, slip through his mind. never did it occur to him that someone from the outside would see your relationship as being something more than a merely platonic one. 

well, maybe there was something to it after all. 

yamaguchi's words made him wonder - although he did find you annoying at times, it was only occasionally and to a very little degree. that in itself was very rare in tsukishima's eyes, as he found most of the people surrounding him at least normally annoying. you, on the other hand, were a completely different case. your jokes, no matter how awkward or downright cringe, made him crack a silent laugh more often than not, and every time he saw you smile, his lips uncontrollably curved up into a small, barely noticeable one themselves. 

'oh, no, absolutely not.' the blonde blurted out after a long minute of silence, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red. 'there is not a single bone in my body that would want to date her. now get up idiot, or you'll be late to your date.'

the moment tsukishima opened his bedroom, after walking his friend to the bus stop, he immediately plopped down on his bed, phone in hand, instinctively opening messages to write to you. surprisingly enough, a message was already waiting for him.

'yachi almost cried because of how stressed she is T-T'

'do you think we should spy on them to make sure it all goes well?'

he found himself smiling at the words on his phone screen, quickly typing back an answer. 

'do you really not have a life of your own?'

'idiot.'

only after a few minutes did he get a response from you.

'can i come over?? i'm bored :33'

a harmless message, one might think. in reality, tsukishima was freaking out at the mere thought of hanging out with you for a reason other than setting up your friends, his cheeks a light shade of pink as his eyes kept digging a hole through his phone. 

you weren't any better than him - hands slightly shaky as you awaited a response for what felt like hours, but was actually just a few minutes. you had no idea what took over you; was it a sudden wave of bravery or rather an idiotic spontaneous choice to ask tsukishima that. but nonetheless, when you finally got the response, you felt ecstatic.

'alright.'

'bring some snacks.'

'kei, i think yamaguchi is he- oh, that's certainly a new face.'

you stood in front of the door with an awkward smile, facing tsukishima's older brother, akiteru, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. to say he was surprised was an understatement - he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. as if a friend that's not yamaguchi coming over to tsukishima's house was so out of the ordinary that it could become a national holiday. 

'come in.' the younger male appeared in the back of the hall, an oversized dinosaur shirt and shorts on. his expression was softer than usual; not until he looked at his brother, whom he gave a sharp stare, signaling him to let you inside and don't make such a fuss about it. 

you sat down on his bed, awkward silence filling up the room. not wanting to make the conversation about your friends as per usual, you slowly realized you don't know what to talk about, trying to think of something, anything, as you began unpacking your bag filled with snacks. 

surprisingly enough, it was tsukishima who spoke up first. 

'wanna watch a movie?' he asked, opening his drawer to pull out two bottles of soda, hidden there so that his brother doesn't devour all of them. 'unless it'll make you even more bored than you were before.'

'well, if you have a boring taste in movies-' 

'says the one who looks like their favorite movie is mamma mia.' tsukishima scoffed under his breath, turning his laptop on and starting to search up movies. you looked at him, a dramatic expression as you pretended to be offended. 

'and you look like you're about to mansplain the godfather to me.' 

a short silence filled the room before you heard the blonde boy let out a short, muffled laugh at your comment. 

'you couldn't be more wrong.' he sat down next to you, a small smile still on his face. 'i found it kind of boring, actually.'

'what do you like, then?'

'horror movies.' tsukishima stated, eyes focused on the screen. 'but tadashi gets easily scared, so i often don't have a chance to watch them.'

'same with me and yachi.' you said, unconsciously scooping a bit closer to the boy as you tried to get a better look at what he was searching up. 'i love them, but yachi jumps at every small scare on the screen. sometimes, she even gets scared when there's nothing happening at all.'

'they really do match each other.' he mumbled, putting the laptop on the bed as he pressed play on a movie he chose. his eyes quickly glanced your way to get a nod of approval on his choice.

'yeah, they do.'

and we could, too.

'are you and tsukishima dating?'

you almost spat out your drink, the words coming out of hinata's mouth catching you so off-guard you were close to choking. 

the three of you, along with kageyama, were currently cleaning up after volleyball practice, the boys racing on who would clean more balls off of the floor.

'no, we're not.' you said in a clearly sad tone with an obvious hint of dissatisfaction in your voice. 'what the hell made you think that way?'

the orange haired boy stopped in his tracks, his signature smile disappearing for a minute as he got lost in his own thoughts. 

'oh! i remember now.' he said after a short while, his grin coming back. 'yamaguchi told me that you two are close.'

'he did also mention that he seems happier around you.' kageyama added, joining the conversation. 'seeing tsukishima happy must be pretty scary.'

not really, you thought. but at the same time, what confused you more was what kageyama said right before. 

he seems happier around you.

yamaguchi has been kei's friend for the longest time, so any of his observations must be true, or at least that's what you liked to believe. but would that mean that tsukishima kei, the salty, closed-off guy whom everyone finds intimidating could possibly like you? was there truly a possibility that he enjoyed spending time with you? 

as you finished cleaning up the hall, saying your goodbyes to your two friends who ran off to practice volleyball somewhere else, a familiar, tall figure appeared in the doorframe, sharp eyes staring at you with an expression that you couldn't exactly decipher. 

'want me to walk you home?' he asked, hands in his pockets. 'it's getting late.'

you looked at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up onto your cheeks before quickly nodding as an answer.

'sure, let's go.'

most of the walk was filled with silence on both parts, exactly as you expected. even though it might've felt awkward for some, you did enjoy his presence in itself enough that a conversation wasn't necessary. 

the boy stopped in his tracks mid-way, reaching into his backpack and pulling out his phone and an old pair of white, wired earphones, showing them to you as a silent question of whether you wanted to listen to music with him or not. you agreed without a second thought, a small smile on your face as he put on one of his playlists. 

'i really like this song.' you mumbled, eyes lighting up upon hearing the familiar melody. with both of you wearing the same set of headphones right now, you were practically forced to walk closer to each other - hands constantly brushing against one another, a faint blush on your face as you tried to ignore it and focus on the music. 

tsukishima, on the other hand, couldn't shake away the thoughts roaming around his head. he felt as if what he was doing now was incredibly unlike him; and maybe it was. but for some reason, he didn't mind being like this around you. less cocky, sarcastic, mean and more... gentle.

he could feel his fingers brushing against yours from time to time, and it drove him crazy. should he go for it and play it off nonchalantly, or just ignore it? should he even make the first move or wait for you to do it?

before he was able to decide, tsukishima felt your hand reaching for his, heart rate immediately speeding up as your fingers shyly intertwined with his, looking the other way to hide your anxious expression.

his hand was much bigger than yours, but somehow it fit perfectly with yours. as if they were created solely to hold one another and nothing else. the plan to get your friends to be together was long forgotten by now - your mind was clouded with thoughts of tsukishima only, and little did you know that his wasn't any different. 

you glanced his way only to find his eyes already on you, hiding his true feelings behind a nonchalant look. only now did you notice that the two of you were standing in front of your house, the boy adjusting his glasses as he waited to see what you'll do next. 

'i guess i should go home now.' you mumbled, but you still didn't move an inch, hand not leaving his. 'see you tomorrow?'

his hand squeezed yours tightly before taking it away, an unusually warm and welcoming smile on his face. 

'sure. see you tomorrow, idiot.'

but as you slowly made your way towards the door, tsukishima couldn't shake away the feeling in him, telling him to go for it. and as much as he tried to resist it, he just couldn't anymore. 

'wait.’

before you could fully turn away, tsukishima kei's lips were already on yours, a sweet, long kiss that felt as if he was waiting to do it for years. his hand traveled to your waist and it didn't take long for you to react; lips moving swiftly with his, noses bumping into one another before you pulled away, a giggle escaping your mouth as you saw just how red tsukishima's face was.

‘don't laugh at me, moron.’ he said, immediately catching the reason for your laughter as he flicked you in the forehead. ‘your whole face is red, too.’

‘i didn't expect you to do this.’ you mumbled, eyes focused on his as you reached to hold his hand again. ‘didn't expect my feelings to be mutual, either.’

‘i'm glad we feel the same.’ his face leaned in closer to yours, a wave of confidence taking over him as he placed a short kiss on your forehead. ‘but i would still prefer to properly ask you out. if you'd say yes, that is.’ 

‘of course i would.’ you smiled, ‘i'd be stupid not to.’

‘should we bet on how long it takes the others to realize we're dating now?’ tsukishima smiled at you, eyes not leaving yours for even a spare second. you laughed at his idea, giving his hand a squeeze. 

‘get ready to lose, kei.’

‘you wish.’

taglist: @moonswolfie

[1-800-kami]

how to (properly) make tomato soup | gojo satoru

.. it’s three pm, you’re sick, and satoru takes it upon himself to take care of you (except there’s one problem: he does not possess any shred of culinary ability whatsoever).

content: 1.7k words, no explicit gender mention but pet names like angel and baby are used, gojo being silly while geto is absolutely done w his bullshit, reader has a migraine, mainly a self indulgent comfort/crack fic

when you feel the pounding in your ears again, tears start to form in your eyes. fuck, you just can’t help it.

you’re tired. so tired of the constant headaches–the migraines that plague your days and make staying awake completely unbearable.

the familiar ache settles in, but you can tell that this time, it’s much worse than usual. the nauseating pressure that can be described as thousands of needles pricking the back of your eyes, the blinding light in the room that’s assaulting your vision, the overwhelming sounds around you that are so intense to the point where you want to do nothing but cry.

so… that’s exactly what you do.

you succumb to the pain, letting out a choked sob that arguably just makes everything worse. tears slowly make their way down your cheeks, and you put your head in your hands to simultaneously muffle your cries and shield yourself from the light around you. you want to turn off the light. your head screams at you to turn off the light, but you’re so dizzy that you can barely even move.

“y/n?”

-

the first call of your name barely registers amidst the ringing in your ears. you hear it when your name is said a second time, though, and you feel yourself coming back to your surroundings.

he’s… here.

your boyfriend, satoru. yeah, he’s here.

head still buried in your hands, you carefully move one of your fingers to peek at him. he’s crouched down in front of you, a look of concern on his face. he’s saying something…

“where does it hurt, baby?” you’re still so stunned that you can’t find the strength in you to speak. so you close your eyes and point to the area where it hurts the most, sniffling. “is it okay if i massage that area, angel?”

throughout the midst of all your pain and tears, your heart manages to swell. it swells for satoru, because he’s here–he’s present, and he cares about you.

you manage out a small nod, eyes still shut. you let out a shaky breath—a breath that you just found out you were holding, since everything hurt so much that you forgot to breathe.

satoru massages your temples gently, even making an effort to softly wipe the tears off of your face. he feels your forehead with the back of his hand and frowns at your temperature. you’re starting to burn up. “s more than a headache, baby. i’m gonna take you to the bed, okay?”

this was going to be a long afternoon.

he carries you bridal style to your bedroom and gently places you on the mattress. he turns off the lights and draws the blinds shut, providing a welcome respite from the sensory assault just moments ago. you exhale a sigh of relief, slowly opening your eyes as you wipe the dried tears off your face. he climbs into the bed with you, and you instinctively cling to him for support as you wrap your arms around his neck. it hurts. everything hurts, but satoru’s presence makes it slightly more bearable. “my poor angel. have you been overworking yourself lately?”

you bury your face in his neck, finding comfort in being close to your boyfriend. he presses a feather-light kiss on your forehead, and it makes you want to cry again. “maybe. the headaches are getting worse.”

“you should take it easier on yourself. i can’t have you cryin’ like this. not on my watch,” he remarks, making sure to keep his voice low as not to overwhelm you. “y’know, if your migraines were a person, i’d make sure to hollow purple ‘em. no hesitation.”

a soft laugh escapes you, but you regret it almost immediately as it just intensifies the pain. he lets out an apology, but you just huff.

you close your eyes again, exhaustion taking over as your eyelids grow heavier. satoru slowly releases himself from your vice grip, much to your chagrin. you try and weakly protest, but he just shushes you gently. “just go to sleep, baby. i’ll be right back, okay? when was the last time you ate?”

“hm… i remember having a little bit of breakfast when i woke up-”

“alright.” he says, making a mental note that he should make food. “i’m going to go make you something, okay? i promise i’ll be back soon.”

“...don’t burn down the kitchen, please.”

“i can’t promise that, though.”

-

“you found the soup packet? okay, finally. now you just turn on the stove…”

satoru’s a little embarrassed to say that he doesn’t know how to cook.

growing up, he’s had practically everything served to him on a silver platter, so he never had to worry about making his own food. and frankly, despite your statement earlier being a joke, he is genuinely afraid to burn the house down. so, he has his best friend suguru on a video call right now, teaching him–gojo satoru, a twenty-eight-year-old man–how to make instant soup.

“the stove?”

“yeah…? don’t tell me you don’t know-”

“-no, no. i know how to turn the stove on. of course i do.” it feels like he’s trying to convince himself more than suguru. the camera shows satoru in his kitchen, sweating profusely and glaring at the stove like it’s his biggest enemy. satoru has fought countless curses in his life, has had near-death experiences multiple times, and even faced the king of curses himself, but he thinks that everything pales in comparison to this task. he tries to turn the knob, but it won’t budge. “what the hell?-“

“satoru-” it seems like the azure-eyed man doesn’t hear him as he keeps trying to turn on the stove (suguru swears he hears him muttering the phrase “with this treasure i summon”, but that’s not even his technique). he can’t help but facepalm for the hundredth time during the duration of this call. “satoru!”

he finally gets his attention, and satoru looks at his phone and sees geto with a look that screams “are you fucking kidding me?”—or really, just a look of utter disappointment. “you’re turning the stove the wrong way.”

“...”

he turns the knob the opposite way, and the burner sets ablaze instantly.

“oh, yeah… um, i definitely knew that.”

“satoru, how do you survive whenever you’re not on a mission?”

“sometimes i think about that too, really. i think it’s because y/n is the one who always cooks.”

“you think i can’t tell already?”

-

much to both of their surprise, satoru managed to make a pot of tomato soup. it only took him approximately forty-five minutes. satoru seems so proud of himself, meanwhile suguru looks so ready to block his number and never talk to him again.

he pours some of the soup into a bowl, and places it on a tray. he also takes a few painkillers from the medicine cabinet–along with a bottle of water. he thanks suguru for helping him, and is about to hang up but stops short when his best friend freezes. “wait, hold on. did you turn off the stove?”

and after making suguru swear on his life to never speak of this event to you and airing out the house to get rid of the smell of smoke, gojo satoru, “the strongest”, thinks he’s the first ever man to somehow burn a pot full of soup.

“it’s an impressive feat, really.” he claims.

suguru just says that he should never be allowed near a kitchen ever again, and satoru actually finds it in himself to silently agree.

-

an hour has passed, and he sets the tray on the nightstand, relieved that the past hour of his life is finally over, never wanting to do that ever again. you’re sleeping soundly on the bed, and he almost doesn’t have the heart to wake you up, but he knows that you have to eat something. he turns the nightlight on and gently taps you on the shoulder as you wake up with a stir. “toru? s’that you?”

“it’s me. can you wake up for me, baby? i promise you can sleep again after, but you need to eat.” when you slowly sit up from your sleeping position, he places the tray on your lap and softly coaxes you to eat. you take a spoonful of soup into your mouth, relishing in the flavor as you’re just now realizing how hungry you are.

“this is good,” you say, letting out a smile. the nap helped you come back to your senses a little, and you can finally breathe a little easy now that the pounding in your head has eased. “didn’t know you could make this.”

“yeah, well, you better savor it.” cause i’m never making that again.

when you finish the soup, you swallow a few painkillers while taking a greedy gulp of water from the bottle on the tray.

just in case the pain comes back, you think. though you really, really wish that it wouldn’t.

satoru sets the tray on the nightstand, and you settle back into the covers, wanting to just sleep the rest of the day away. satoru follows not long after, turning off the nightlight and letting out a yawn.

you bury your face in his neck once more, kissing him on the cheek. “thank you, for um—for all of this.”

“s nothing. just promise that you won’t overwork yourself again, okay?” he says, carefully caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“i’ll try not to.”

“hey, you can’t say just that. you have to say, ‘i promise not to overwork myself again, toru. i love you, and thank you for the tomato soup.’” he says while poorly imitating your voice, and you can’t help but laugh.

“okay, okay. i promise not to overwork myself again, love. i love you so, so much.” you say while peppering kisses all over his face, and he’s so glad that the lights are off so that you’re unable to see how his cheeks are beet red. “thank you for taking care of me… and for the soup. it was good.”

and as your eyelids begin to grow heavy once more, satoru thinks that his efforts aren’t in vain after all. because the sight of you, finding comfort in his presence, stirs a little bit of determination from within him. and maybe, just maybe, he’d take it upon himself to learn how to properly cook, not just (partially burnt) instant soup, but a real meal for the next time that you’re feeling like this.

and as he watches your chest rise up and down as you sleep, he can’t help but whisper, “yeah. next time, i’ll make you more than just soup. i’ll cook something special, just for you. ‘nd i won’t burn the pot again, either.”

because for you, satoru would do anything as long as he gets to see you happy. and part of that includes learning how to (properly) make tomato soup… and more.

[driaswrld]

lovers rock — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 2.7k

summary : over a bottle of ill-gotten vodka, the trio has a tipsy conversation about kisses.

part of : the star paradox collection.

(comment if u wanna be tagged for tsr!!)

notes : this is heavily based off the fact that reader DID in fact have secret feelings for geto and gojo but never said anything ab it until before the star plasma incident (fic ab that coming soon dw) you may interpret this as reader fell first, they fell harder bcus that's exactly what happened fr

other : satosugu makes fake IDs (based off that one fanart), literally underage drinking??? toru cant hold his alc but wbk this, suguru smokes here too, suggestive convo, mentions of like one curse word i think

current casette : lovers rock - tv girl (anything by tv girl is a tsr song okay?)

The dorms at Tokyo Jujutsu High operate on one solid rule.

All lights out by ten, no exceptions, no buts, ands, ifs or becauses. Curfew is at ten, be in your damn room by ten.

Naturally, Satoru and Suguru mistake ten for twelve.

It’s 9:53 when you walk into your dorm room, and the first thing that greets you are hushed whispers and a smoky smell.

Why is it so dark in here?

From your place at the door frame, your eyes flit to the back of Satoru’s head, silver white strands tickling his nape, uniform replaced with a blue hoodie. Suguru’s sitting across from him, slouched, cross legged like Satoru, hair tied into a ponytail and lips twisted into a thin scowl.

“—wasn’t yours.” Suguru grumbles beneath his breath, a pair of dice clinking softly in his palm, the light from your bedside lamp giving you a sneak peek of the numbers resting.

Three and six. Oh, no, that's definitely five.

“Cost me six hundred yen to get it.”

Satoru seems to ignore him, letting out a huff in defiance.

Suguru grunts, leaning over the side of the bed to pick up a half smoked cigarette, pressing it softly against the edge of your favorite incense holder to collect the stray ash.

“Broke ass.” Satoru mumbles, and though you can’t see his expression from here, you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Freeloader.” Suguru counters, cigarette lodged between his middle and index, and he brings it up to his lips and draws in softly.

He leans forward to drop the dice on Satoru’s leg.

“We’re supposed to split it equally.” You hear a clinking noise coming from Satoru’s lap.

“Like hell we are.” Suguru scoffs, a wisp of smoke leaving his mouth.

“I should get first share, it’s only fair.”

Suguru gets up from the bed, back turned to you as he slides the window open halfway. “We’re not sharing anything.” He flicks the cigarette outside. “I don’t know where your mouth’s been—”

“You tryin’ to fight—”

“Are you two getting high in my room?” Your voice makes them both freeze, and Satoru folds over the bed backwards, head upside down and staring straight at you with a guilty grin, all while Suguru is discreetly trying to fan the rest of the cigarette smoke out the window.

“What gave you that idea?” Suguru murmurs, squinting his eyes to make out your expression in the dim light with a faux innocent smile.

You breathe a chuckle, dropping your bag by the door and clicking it shut behind you. “How did the studying with Nanamin go?” Satoru asks, as if you can’t see him folded over the bed like he’s hiding something while Suguru fans the smoke through the window.

“I fell asleep halfway through, we got boba with Haibara instead.” You say, feeling blindly on the wall for the light switch.

“And you didn’t bring some back for me?” Satoru gasps, near offended.

“Don't change the subject,” you roll your eyes, pinky finger bumping against the light switch, and you flick it upwards with your index. When the light comes on and you face them, your jaw drops.

“Surprise…?” Suguru’s cheeks puff up in a wide thin lipped smile, almost mockingly. Satoru is still hanging off the edge of the bed, cigarette ash curdled on your incense holder, the pair of dice laying on the bedsheets and sure, they kinda made a little mess of your room.

But it's the bottle of vodka sitting between Satoru’s legs that takes the cake.

“You have to be kidding me—”

Suguru shrugs his shoulders, sliding the window fully open, the night air wafting inside.

It's almost curfew. And here they are. You're not even surprised, this is totally in character for them. “Wow, no, Satoru, you're such a rebel?” Satoru kicks his legs back and forth, voice mimicking a girly pitch. “Bad boys are so hot! Tell me all your secrets, toru-kun! None of that?"

“I was there too, idiot.” Suguru grumbles, shoving one of Satoru's legs aside as he steps over to the bedside table to grab the ash covered incense holder.

Satoru flails his legs like Suguru just smacked him, ever so dramatically. “How did you do it though?” You ask, with a near wince, exasperated but curious.

Unexpectedly, Satoru swings the vodka bottle sideways and into Suguru’s arms, the glass making a soft set of clink! sounds from Suguru’s rings as he catches it, both your eyes going wide as Satoru stands on the bed, striking some sort of elaborate pose.

“The date, June fifteenth ‘06—”

You turn to Suguru, confused but he only shrugs in response. “My assistant Sugi-san and I walked into Shinanoya—” Satoru continues his elaborate presentation, meanwhile you and Suguru whisper between his words. "Never call me that again—"

“So that's what you two were doing while you were supposed to be exorcising that curse?”

“He forced me to go along—”

“With these!” Satoru pulls out a mini plastic card, which is supposed to look like an ID, but really it's as flimsy as a piece of paper. You had to admit though, they really did get his good side in the picture. If he even has a bad side, that is.

“And we got the liquor at half price.” Suguru mumbles as you nudge him, and he pulls out his own fake ID, which looks the same as Satoru’s — you think you might want to print these pictures for a scrapbook or something some other time.

“I thought you said it was six hundred yen!”

“I added my service charge.”

“Service? What are you, a whore?”

You take the bottle from Suguru to feel the weight in your hands, and the liquid inside sloshes a little to the side.

Out of sheer curiosity and despite your better senses, you mumble, “Let's play a drinking game then.”

Forty minutes later.

It's drawing near to eleven. The lights are turned off and all that's coming from your dorm room are the sounds of yours and the boys’ whispers and hushed giggles from time to time, barely drowned out by a soft song playing from Suguru’s phone, playlist laying open on his phone, one of Satoru’s picks.

Are you sick of me?

Would you like to be?

“—turn it to your head if you can't answer.” Satoru grins, cheek resting on his palm as he lays across the bed. “Have you ever gotten freaky with a milf?”

A chortle leaves your mouth when Suguru twists his lips into an expression of shock and utter disgust, and you have to cover your mouth to not laugh out loud.

“A milf? Like… forty or something?”

“Not really — just like a hot older woman.” You say.

“Oh, she was around that age then, I guess…” Suguru grumbles, clutching the half empty vodka bottle in one hand, eyes squinted. “I didn't sleep with her though— I don't just… sling dick around like Satoru— I have morals.”

“Says the one who sucked tongue with an elderly woman.”

Suguru scoffs and takes a swig from the bottle, passing it over to you.

You shrug, coming to Suguru’s defense with a mumble. “I mean, Satoru… you are common—”

“Don't pretty it up, he's ran through—”

“Like hell I am!”

The three of you fold over in a fit of laughter, gasping for air, faces hot from the alcohol and the sheer idiocy of the moment.

It takes all your energy to muffle your combined laughs, and Satoru leans over Suguru’s phone to increase the music volume just a little, lightheaded and nearly knocking the vodka out of your hand, mouthing the lyrics with a lopsided toothy grin.

You like a pretty boy

With a pretty voice

“Your turn.” Suguru nods to you and the liquor in your hand sloshes to the side. “Make it good—”

Satoru tries to interrupt but has to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh when you take a whiff of the vodka, head tilting back and mouth forming an ‘o’ shape — sure, you three were already a little tipsy, but you’re pretty sure this is way past your limit.

Not like you could hold your alcohol anyway.

Suguru was the only one who could survive, you and Satoru were certified lightweights by default.

“Dare me to do anything and I’ll throw up on you.” You huff, and both boys raise their arms up in surrender.

It’s these things, small moments like these that make you want to live forever.

Minus the aging part, or maybe with the aging part — if it meant doing stupid stuff with Satoru and Suguru, young or old, you’re sure you’d have no complaints.

Because it’s them.

“You scared?” Satoru chuckles, drawing you out of your thoughts.

The way he says it, in that tone – it’s the same tone that would make you follow him anywhere.

The same tone that makes Suguru roll his eyes so far in the back of his head you’d think he had a leading role in The Conjuring.

“Should I be scared?”

It’s paired with bated breath, and the way Suguru looks up at you, dark eyes glazed over with a hint of inebriation, waterline bordering on crimson from the lit cigarette tucked between his middle and index – it makes you feel naked.

In a way you’ve never felt before.

“That depends,” he murmurs. You gulp. It’s like the air in here has changed, foggy with a foreign feeling surrounding you three. “Do you wanna be scared?”

Suguru takes a deep inhale of his cig, leaning over to breathe out a plume of smoke. You and Satoru inhale it like you’ve neglected oxygen your whole lives.

Maybe if it were anyone else you’d call it want. Or need.

Something in your soul tells you it transcends that.

She might want a kiss before the end of the song—

“Suguru—” His name doesn't get the chance to leave your mouth entirely, Satoru’s thumb and forefinger already have your chin in his grasp, turning your gaze to him instead.

“What’re you looking at him for?” Satoru mumbles, and you hear Suguru stifles a laugh across from you.

“You think he’s gonna save you?”

You want to laugh, it’s a running joke anyway.

No matter what, you run to Suguru to put Satoru in his place. That time Satoru got you kicked out of a movie theater, or the time Satoru tripped you up during a mission in front of the first years, or the time Satoru ate the cheesecake you hid in your mini fridge —

Whenever little name gets her strings pulled by Satoru, she goes running off for Suguru to save her, right?

But it doesn’t feel like he’s talking about that.

“You need me to save you, name?” Suguru chuckles, and from the corner of your eye, you see him pull his hair loose, dark strands cascading over his shoulders.

“Gonna let him call you weak like that?” He chides, and the cool pad of Satoru’s thumb taps against your bottom lip twice, as if challenging you to say something – to give him your attention instead.

“Nah, don’t need a hero.” You whisper, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Toru might though.”

Suguru bites back a snicker, head tilting back as he draws in another inhale of smoke. “Aw, don’t bully him, name.”

Because love can burn

Like a cigarette

“C’mon, don’t look at him,” Satoru tilts your head in his grasp, a soft grin forming on his face, dimples on showcase. “Look at me.” He whispers, tugging you closer, and you have to tighten your grip on the neck of the bottle so it doesn’t slip, your palms sweating from the proximity.

“Satoru—”

“Don’t double back now, you laughed a bit too hard at me just now, y’know?”

You open your mouth to protest, shivering when the tip of your tongue grazes the pad of his thumb. Satoru makes a noise in the back of his throat, something between a groan and a scoff.

You wonder if the vodka made you imagine the way his pupils dilated. “Just ask the stupid question—” You try to turn your head away in vain, and this time, Suguru laughs at your expense.

“You ever been kissed before?”

And leave you with nothing

You stiffen, gaze snapping up to meet Satoru’s, only to find him dead serious.

Ofcourse you’ve been kissed before. But not like that— not like—

Like… oh no…

And if you start to kiss—

You bring the bottle of vodka to your lips, and both boys watch with amused gazes, and hint of something you don’t have a name for yet.

“You could’ve just—” Satoru’s hand falls loose over your shoulder as you take a swig, and Suguru shifts forward in curiosity. “—said no.”

“Nobody’s kissed you?” Suguru echoes and you grimace from the alcohol and the sheer embarrassment, shoving the open bottle to stand in the space between Satoru’s legs.

“Your turn,” you grumble, wiping remnants of the sweet liquor from your mouth with the back of your palm.

And the record skips—

Satoru and Suguru exchange a look, one you immediately assume is them reading each other’s minds and gearing up to laugh in your face.

Truly, you wouldn’t blame them — because here you are about to graduate in a year and still haven’t gotten your first kiss.

And it’s not like you haven’t like… gotten close to it— it’s just that the circumstances are never perfect and other things always get involved and you get all in your head and your mind just starts to do the thing—

“Hey,” Satoru’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, and your palms go clammy, folded over your lap. “We don’t care about it, it’s nothing.” He whispers.

“Pretty sure there’s nobody who even deserves to kiss you anyway.” You glance over to Suguru, who’s already outing his cigarette and scooting closer.

Flip it over

And sit a little closer

If anything, it makes you swell with shame rather than comfort.

“Not like that, I didn’t mean—”

“Great job, Suguru—”

“As if you were doing any better—”

And despite yourself, you chuckle. They’re idiots. God, they’re fools.

Now, how many men have you kissed?

Satoru’s fingers dip under the collar of your shirt, playing around with the loose thread.

They made you laugh, that’s enough for him, always has been. He knows Suguru feels the same, but why… why doesn’t he feel satisfied with just that? Like there's something else he should be doing?

“Not fair,” he mumbles beneath his breath, cheeks flushed as he slumps forward, resting his head in the crook of your neck. You think he might be past his drinking limit, he always gets all babbly like this when he is.

“Not fair?” Suguru questions, resting a hand over his knee.

“Yeah, ‘s just not fair — who wouldn’t wanna kiss her?”

“I’m literally right here—”

“Keep listening then, it’s not like I’m lying or nothing.”

You’re not strong like Satoru and Suguru.

You’d say you’re not as beautiful either, or eve half as smart sometimes – you never compare yourselves to them but in the great grand scheme of things— you’ve never wanted to be kissed anyway, not by anyone you don’t feel for.

Not by someone who doesn’t know you in the ways you don’t want to be known.

Very few

In the way you know Satoru hates alcohol, but he only ever drinks it when you and Suguru are around. The way Suguru never likes taking pictures but manages a smile when you and Satoru pull him in for a group photo.

“If I kissed you, I’d never stop.” Suguru breathes, laying back on the bed, rumble of a sigh leaving his lips.

But you offered me a kiss

In the way they both know what you’re thinking before you even say it. The way grocery runs, 24 hour mart stops, week long missions, midnight talks, belly laughs and breaching curfew feels like a love language – something only the three of you speak – like something so foreign yet so familiar.

Why?

“I don’t think I’d remember to breathe again if I kissed you.” Satoru grumbles in the crook of your neck, somewhere between a yawn and whine. “You could have anyone you want, name, a whole line full of kisses…”

“Never really wanted to be kissed to be honest,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, your eyelids drooping shut.

Such a foolish reason, I’m afraid.

I just wanted… to kiss you.

[cannibalizedlove]

jus stumbled on ur acc and IM IN LOVE I jus read the stalker!donnie fic and was wondering if there's a scenario where reader actually knew the entire time and is equally obsessed (basically self inserting LOL). but anyway idk if u write smut so maybe reader teases him abt it when they're having a lil makeout sesh in the couch and readers all like "its kinda hot" and says some crazy shit that makes donnie. whos as deep in the pool of obsession as you gets hellaaaa flustered EEEK I'm going crazy I fucking love donnie

Thank you for the request!! I think this is such a good idea, mutual obsession is just.. chef kiss. I hope you enjoy <3

The feelings mutual.

Information and warnings — smut!*, part twoish of “watching you”, male reader, donnie and reader being horny messes, donnie’s first time so you ruin him :((, reader being a kinky freak which is perfect for him, heavy corruption kink, donnie being a loser bottom bitch (affectionate). this is so long, i apologize ahh, i just love him so much.

You had been going with Donnie for about three months now, and you were infatuated with everything about him.

You loved hearing him talk about whatever new conspiracy theory he bought into, and you were always there to help him during his hallucinations.

Donnie was completely and utterly obsessed with you, he did everything for you. Even though you were perfectly capable of doing your homework, Donnie would always snatch it from your backpack and do it for you, he never let you lift a finger. It was crystal clear that you had him whipped.

Before the two of you got together, Donnie was just as obsessed with you. The huge perv was constantly watching you through your windows, following you home, and of course, stealing your underwear. What Donnie didn’t know is that you were completely aware of his stalking, and how you were completely turned on by it.

The two of you were sitting on his couch in the living room, his parents and siblings were out to dinner while Donnie was supposed to be at his therapy session with Dr. Thurman, but skipping it one time wouldn’t hurt, right? Seeing how you were like his medication, except you actually worked and didn’t just make him drowsy.

The two of you were watching a corny horror movie, you had already connected the dots and figured out who the killer was, though, it didn’t matter anyways because neither of you were paying attention. You were leaned against his warm body while Donnie was squeezing and touching every inch of you that he could grab.

You let out quiet moans as he began to kiss behind your ears and onto your collar bone, reaching up and softly running your hands through his short hair. The two of you had never gone farther than this before, and it was slowly killing Donnie.

He needed you more than he needed air, you were the most angelic thing he had ever seen, he wanted nothing more than to ruin your pure image.

“Donnie, I know a lot about you.” You softly spoke, your words interrupted by little moans and laughs when his lips would tickle your neck.

“Yeah? Like what, angel?” Donnie smiled against your skin, drawing invisible circles on your exposed skin.

“I know that you have extensive knowledge on time travel.. and that your favorite cartoon is The Smurfs..” You chuckled at the last part, earning a playful eye roll from the boy and a gentle push; “..and I also know that you like to steal my underwear.” You finished your sentence by grabbing his jaw.

Donnie instantly froze and his heart sank into his stomach. His eyes were wide and he swallowed thickly before coming up with a lie on the spot.

“I don’t know what you mean, I wouldn’t do that.. That’s a total invasion of your privacy!” He began to breathe heavily, he felt like an animal caught in a cage with no way out.

“Oh, and you would never invade my privacy, right? You would never follow me home.. or sit by my window and watch me?” You had moved positions from laying on him to now straddling him sitting on his lap. You drew out your words softly into his ear, feeling him shake from anxiety.

Donnie knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this, he knew he was caught, and he was terrified. Was this the end? Were you completely disgusted with him and you were just stringing him along to hurt him? He couldn’t believe that, you were too sweet, too perfect, he didn’t want to lose you over his uncontrolled attraction to you.

“Do you.. hate me.. for it?” Donnie looked up at you with glossy eyes, trying to swallow his fear but failing miserably.

You couldn’t keep playing with him like this, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but you couldn’t help but find him attractive with his quivering voice and worried eyes.

“Oh, Donnie.. I could never hate you.” You lifted his chin to hold eye contact with him, and ran your free hand through his hair. “If anything,” You paused, letting his jaw go, and leaning forward, leaving your lips just an inch away from his.

“It’s kinda hot.” You finished your sentence, pushing your lips into his with a hard kiss, leaving Donnie completely surprised.

He couldn’t believe it, he was afraid of you being horrified of him, yet here you were making out with him because of it. Donnie knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the tent that was growing in his pants.

The kisses were only broken by the loud moans that left both of your mouths, the two of you couldn’t get enough of each other. You began to grind down on his crotch, pulling on his hair. Donnie bit down on your lip, resulting in a sharp moan from you. He latched onto your neck, attacking it with bites and wet kisses. You were in complete bliss, the only things you could think about were Donnie’s teeth pulling on your skin and his hand creeping up to your throat.

Donnie pulled away, placing his hand on your throat harshly. Both of your lips were swollen, and Donnie’s face was completely flushed, he smiled as he watched you pant like a dog, and he began to palm you through your jeans that had become 2 sizes to small, enjoying every moan that you cried out.

You looked incredible like this, he thought, your eyelashes wet from the tears that welled up from Donnie’s painful bites, your hair completely unruly, falling perfectly infront of your face, every bit of your sight was driving him crazy. It honestly amazed him how he was able to keep himself from ripping every bit of fabric off of you and making you cry, but Donnie didn’t wanna scare you off; so he kept his composure, at least this time he would.

You began to roll your hips into his hand that had a tight grip on your painfully hard bulge, moaning loudly into his open mouth, holding onto his wrist of the hand that was on your throat, causing him to squeeze ever so slightly harder. You felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough, you needed to feel him.

“Please.. Donnie.” You said breathlessly with your eyes screwed shut. Donnie didn’t know if this was real or a hallucination, he had thought about this moment every time he masturbated with your stolen underwear, but now that it was actually happening, he felt wildly intimidated.

“I’ve never.. I’ve never done this before.” Donnie halted his movements, hanging his head low in embarrassment, worrying that the fact he was still a virgin would turn you off; only to find out that it made you want him ten times more, if that was even possible.

“That’s okay.. I can teach you, I promise.” You grabbed his chin, lifting it back up to your gaze, watching his already red face turn brighter.

Donnie nodded wildly, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you stand up in front of him, taking your jeans off. He swore that if you looked hard enough, you could see a pool of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. When you had finally gotten your jeans off, which felt like years to the poor horny mess, you sat back down on his lap, kissing his forehead gently.

You gestured to Donnie to lift his arms up, and he instantly followed the command, lifting his arms up and swallowing thickly as you took his shirt off. Your lips ghosted over his as you ran your hands down his chest, taking note of how he bucked his hips subconsciously when you ran a finger over his nipple.

“We can start off simple, is that okay?” You smiled sweetly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, watching his every movement to make sure you didn’t cause him any discomfort. “Yeah.. yeah that’s okay.” Donnie said, completely out of breath, his hard on becoming increasingly more painful.

You brought his hand down to your bulge once again, giving him a soft kiss as he circled your tip through your boxers. “You can take them off — please, take them off.” That simple command was all it took for him to completely rip off your plaid boxers, exposing your dripping cock to the cold air of the boys house. Donnie gripped you instantly, running his thumb over your slit with a half swallowed moan escaping his mouth.

“Fuck, Donnie..” Your face was buried in the nape of his neck, kissing it every once in a while to try and stifle your increasingly louder groans. Donnie had his free hand on the back of your head, holding you close to the sweet spot behind his ear you kept attacking. “You’re so fucking pretty..” He cried while continuing to work your length, he could feel his own pre completely soaking through his underwear. You began to roll your hips once again, feeling like you were on cloud nine, but just before you could come undone in his hand, he pulled away, holding your waist tightly.

“Can I.. you know…” Donnie whined, despite the fact that he had the nerve to stalk you, and break into your home, he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words ‘fuck you’, it was pathetically adorable.

You chuckled and nodded your head, kissing his cheek before sitting on your knees and helping Donnie remove his jeans. Something about you doing everything for him, and teaching him how to fuck you was deliciously exciting to him. He loved the idea of him being completely tainted by you, even if he had originally dreamed of the roles being reversed. With his jeans now removed, you kissed him one final time before curling a finger in his waistband, pulling his boxers down to his ankles.

Donnie looked away bashfully, his length twitching quickly, leaking pre like a hose. You bit your lip, taking a mental photo for use later. You hovered over him, holding his hard cock tightly as you lined it up with your hole.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, kissing the top of his head, making sure that he was ready to be taken like this. Donnie whined out in frustration, he was never good with patience and it was on full display here. You laughed at his needy response, and slowly began to sink down onto his dripping length. Donnie instantly threw his head back, grabbing your waist and digging his short nails into your skin. Your mouth hung open, sinful noises filled the room from the both of you as you bottomed out onto him.

Donnie’s eyes began to water from the sheer pleasure, and he held you like his life depended on it. It took you a second to adjust to his size, but you started slowly moving up and down, making Donnie completely loose it. His quiet demeanor was totally lost at this point, nothing but whines, cried out moans, and loud “fucks”, and “please’s” left his mouth. Nothing filled his mind except the feeling of you wrapped around him, and your pretty facial expressions. The poor boy was totally overwhelmed, fat tears began to fall from his eyes as he got closer to his climax.

The sight was enough to push you over the edge, he looked completely wrecked, and it was a gorgeous sight. You pushed yourself forward, latching onto his lips and grabbing his face tightly, his tears transferring onto your cheeks as you kissed. You became undone onto both of your chests, thick ropes covering Donnie’s frail body. Donnie broke the kiss with a loud cry, hitting his climax and losing himself inside of you. He held you tightly to his body as he pumped you full.

After a few moments of silence, that let both of you gain your composure, you let out a breathy laugh, kissing your fucked out boyfriend all over his face. You watched as his chest heaved up and down as he blinked tightly, trying to regain all of his senses. Donnie kissed your lips softly, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug.

“Hey.. how did you know all that stuff? Have you like.. done this before?” Donnie said, a thick sense of jealousy flowing through every word.

“No, I just watch a lot of porn.” You chuckled, a devilish smile running across your face.

Donnie let out a breathless moan as he flipped you onto your back, just the idea making him ready for a round two.

[mrs-kodzuken]

Can I have a timeskip!Ushijima comfort fic? Like Ushi doesn't understand the concept of skinship like holding hands and hugs so he often shrugs off reader's attempts in skinships, which of course made reader feel sad ㅠㅠ

Thank you and have a nice day! <3

Understanding you ♡

Pairing: Aged up! Wakatoshi Ushijima x fem!reader

WC: 1.6k

Genre: slight angst to comfort/fluff

CW: fem!reader, inexperienced in relationships!Wakatoshi, slight angst from ushi :( , fluff and comfort all in the end :)) , maybe some self deprecation from reader, best friends with tendou, communication is always key

note: thank you for requesting this! I hope it’s up to your expectations, sugar!! <3

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Being the girlfriend of the Wakatoshi Ushijima was something I didn’t expect would hurt this much. As his girlfriend, I understood the importance of volleyball since it quite literally is his career path. However, being in a relationship is a whole other aspect to think about.

There never really was anything that really stood out to me about his wrongdoings. He always made it to every dinner plan, he didn’t forget the classic month to month anniversaries, he seemed like he was just a gift from heaven.

I knew it was too good to be true when I realized we, or I, was severely lacking in the physical department of our relationship.

Ushijima and I never really got closer within touching or skin-ship distance. That really sucked for me and hurt my feelings since he aced every other aspect of our relationship, no pun intended.

I wasn’t sure if he was just uncomfortable with touching me or if he had some kind of weird feeling about touching me. However, with physical touch being my number one priority of love language I wasn’t sure how to go about telling him my feelings.

Giving Wakatoshi free rein to plan out his schedule, except for date nights, was a must. He is a grown man and I’m not his mother, but I always felt bad when there was something important, like this, to be talked about.

I couldn’t help but to bite my lip as I stared at our private text messages. His contact name, ‘Ushi baby’ stared right back at me whilst I tried to work up the courage to send a text.

Deciding against it, I threw my phone onto my bed and sighed loudly. He was at practice and had a game tomorrow so I didn’t want to bother him or cloud his mind with meaningless things like what I need to talk about.

I couldn’t help to wallow in my own pity. The clock on my white painted walls doing nothing but making the sound of ticking throughout my room which eventually annoyed me enough to leave.

It was around the time for Ushi’s practice to be over and I really wanted him to come over, I just didn’t know how everything would go.

Whenever we had first started dating I got introduced, and interviewed, by Wakatoshi’s best friend, Tendou. And now, Tendou was one of my closest friends so I decided to call the Chocolatier himself for support.

After the phone had rang for three seconds it picked up, “Hello! Hello!” the familiar voice sounded throughout my kitchen.

“Hey Ten! I am in need of advice and company.” I admitted due to the facetime call revealing his apron on with some stains of colors on it.

“Oh really?” He asked, drawing out the ‘really’.

“Yes, really. I need to talk to Wakatoshi, I’m just not sure how. Any ideas?”

“That depends on what you’re going to talk to him about. Saying the wrong thing could make him easily misunderstand what you mean and vice versa.” Tendou tried to poetically explain, as if I didn’t already know that.

“Yeah, thank you so much,” I rolled my eyes, “I’m feeling a bit.. lonely in our relationship lately. I need more physical affection from him and I’m not sure how to really bring it up because times that’s happened before.”

That little spill from me made memories pop up into my head of Ushijima rejecting my attempts for physical love.

I could only remember how he shrugged himself away from holding my hand or kissing me after I brought him a well-balanced lunch meal one day during practice.

I never felt more embarrassed or ashamed in my life. My own boyfriend rejected my advances to give him, and to receive love from him in front of his entire team.

It wasn’t the only time that that had happened. I tried doing it behind closed doors just in case he didn’t like publicly displaying affection. However, that didn’t work either when he moved away from me one night after being out to dinner.

From that point on it’s just been messaging, very little facetime, some phone calls, and occasionally visiting each other’s apartment. I wasn’t sure how to proceed with this, and I certainly didn’t think it was anywhere near enough to breaking up.

However, that doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt my feelings nor have been continuing to hurt them. Whether on purpose or not.

With Ushijima being a member of the Schweiden Adlers, I knew some of his teammates and occasionally talked with them about how my boyfriend was doing time to time.

However, I couldn’t help to not reach out to them within the last couple of weeks. I didn’t have the courage to confidently ask about him.

Tendou’s voice brought me back to where I needed to be, which was having this conversation to communicate my needs across to him.

“And since knowing him for a while helps my understanding, I think a simple conversation would do the trick. Honestly, I’m not sure why you called if you knew that too?” He questioned me, eyes peering dangerously close to mine through the tiny phone screen.

I bit my lip, “It’s just… he has a game tomorrow. I don’t want to ruin that by spouting dumb nonsense about how I’m not feeling this or that from him.”

Growing up, I’ve always considered other peoples thoughts, opinions, feelings before mine. It was just the kind of person I was, and now it hurts me the most when I need to express myself.

“Girl. Fuck that game.” He rolled his eyes at me.

“Yes Wakatoshi loves his career and it’ll always be there but you’re something in his life that can disappear at any moment. I think he’d want to know,” Tendou tried reasoning with my dumb logic as he pointed a wooden spoon in my direction.

I gave up. I knew in the back of my mind that Tendou was definitely right and I wasn’t but it was my own self that was keeping me from doing what I needed to do.

“Alright, I think I’ll ask him to come over tonight then.” I tried to say confidently after I made up my mind of what needed to be done.

“Great! When I’m in Tokyo next I’ll be sure to bring a little something for you and him.” Tendou winked at me before ending the facetime call.

That only left me to do one thing, text my boyfriend. I quickly sent him a text asking if it would be okay for him to come over after practice.

My nerves were all over the place as I waited for the tall, olive haired man to show up at my place.

Soon the door bell brought me out of my mind trance and when I opened the door I saw the one and only Ushijima.

“Hey Toshi, come in,” I widened the door after taking a good look at him.

It seemed like he came here right out of practice, he was still in his whole practice uniform. His usual stoic face didn’t change once I sat down on to my living room couch.

“Is something the matter, (Y/n)?” He bluntly asked, getting straight to the point with me.

I took a deep breath to prepare myself, “Yes, Toshi. There is something the matter. My feelings are hurt and have been hurt for a while due to the lack of physical touch in our relationship.” I paused for a moment to look over his face.

He seemed to be intently listening on every word I was saying which gave me the impression to keep going.

“I just want more skin ship with you like hugging, kissing, hang holding, or even just sitting beside you with arms touching. I feel deprived of that because you seem to always move away when I try to initiate it. Is there a reason or..?” I trailed off, finishing what I was saying and asking a question to see his side.

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way, (Y/n). I don’t understand the idea of that. It makes you feel more loved than usual?” He asked, trying to work around in his head of what I had mentioned.

“Well, yes. Without it I feel upset or rejected by you sometimes.” I hung my head low a bit, it was embarrassing having to discuss this. However, I was always one to get embarrassed or ashamed at anything I needed.

“I will try, for you.” He promised, his large hand reaching over to me and placing it on my knee. He was very warm and it traveled through my body.

I smiled a bit, “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

I scooted closer to him on the couch and he gave me his one million dollar small smile that I love. His arms wrapped around my shoulders whilst I hugged his torso. His lean but built, very built, body touched my soft one, I loved this feeling.

We stayed like that for a minute, nothing heard but the low volume of my living room TV and our breathing.

“Thank you, Toshi. I really appreciate that you’ll try for me.” I pulled away, already missing the hug but needing to say that to his face.

“Of course, love.” His hand came up to caress my face and I leaned into his touch.

The aching in my heart and body went away after discussing that with him. It was all just a bit miscommunication which was easily fixed after I expressed what I needed to.

I couldn’t be more content.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: I hope you enjoyed anon!! I’m terrible at writing for Ushijima but thank you for helping me extend the people I can write for :))

you all know my header rules, if not see pinned post!!

[neptuneiris]

brooklyn baby (01/?)

i've got my eye on you

pairing: rockstar!aemond × fem!reader

summary: you go with your cousins to a concert of the band "Dragon Dynasty" in Brooklyn, although you are not a fan of the band, the guitarist catches your attention.

word count: 7.7k

series masterlist • next part

hello beautiful people, here I am again with a new fic! I'm so happy and very excited to start this, I hope you like it a lot, that you enjoy it and I'm looking forward to your support and your comments that I always love to answer:) seriously you guys are amazing!

I still don't know how many chapters this story will have but it won't be more than 10, so wait for them. thank you very much for reading loves, enjoy!

warnings: none yet.

He is so majestic.

It's the first thing you think when the band finally comes out on stage and the concert starts, causing the screams of a bunch of girls all around you all over the place, all of them joined by your cousins, Baela and Rhaena.

You don't even understand how the three of you managed to make it to the front, just Baela and Rhaena acted in survival mode and started dragging you all over the place, making their way through the crowd to get face to face with all the band members.

And now… you're sure that by the time this is all over, tomorrow the two of them won't have a voice because of all the screaming.

At first you thought it would just be another band that doesn't have a big audience and that even though it's a band you don't know, you'd still have a good time. Although it's not like it was an option not to come, your cousins literally forced you to.

However, you're surprised to see that the place is full and all the girls are going crazy, as well as your cousins already made sure to tell you all about the band, tell you what you need to know and show you their favorite songs all the way here.

Basically the band, Dragon Dynasty, just debuted at the end of last year and is already getting some pretty good recognition.

And not only for the music, but also for the appearance… peculiar, of all the members.

When Rhaena showed you pictures of all of them, either as a group or individually, you understood the obsession of both of them. They all have platinum hair and look as if they had stepped out of the very palace of the Greek Gods, all absolutely attractive and very sexy.

And now seeing them in person, just a few feet away from you, is very different from seeing them in their social media photos.

The lead singer, Aegon Targaryen, is the one who introduces all the band members and starts the concert. And every time he approaches the edge of the stage, the girls again scream, as they scream at every verse he sings.

Then Rhaena records and focuses more on the bass player, Luke, with his short platinum hair and sitting on one of the speakers, focused on his notes. While Baela, of course, focuses on the drummer named Jace, Luke's older brother.

You understand from the great information your cousins gave you about all of them that they are all brothers, except that Jace and Luke are cousins of the vocalist Aegon, the piano guy and the guy who plays the electric guitar, the last three being brothers.

You focus for a moment on the piano guy, who from Baela's information, he is the same age as Jace. He definitely has an incredible resemblance to his brothers and from time to time he smiles towards the crowd, or rather towards the girls, who of course scream and go completely crazy with those simple gestures.

But when you look at him… the guitarist… you immediately can't take your eyes off him.

When your cousins showed you the pictures of all of them, it was precisely him who caught your attention the most of all, Aemond Targaryen.

At first you thought that his pictures with that aesthetic on him were just for the band, as a way to draw attention, however, Rhaena explained to you that he doesn't really have a left eye.

In some photos he has a black patch on and in some others he doesn't, so instead there is a shiny ocean blue stone, like a sapphire, inside where his eye should be. And when Rhaena explained to you that this is how he really lives, it definitely caught your attention a lot more.

But not only for that, also for his style of clothes, whether they were black or black with white, as well as his expressions in the photos did not really show much.

In all of them he didn't look at the camera, he was always looking away with a serene and serious look at the same time, to show himself in the same way every time he looked at the camera with his guitar at all times and his platinum hair long and completely loose.

And now to see him in person… he still looks the same way, serious and completely focused on his guitar, except for his brothers and cousins who focus on the audience from time to time, but not him.

And just like that, you can't take your eyes off of him, as if he were an invisible attractive force, delighted by the way he focuses on playing his notes, his fingers moving across the strings and his bare arms showing you some tattoos on his pale skin.

Everything about him… it's just alluring, sexy, mysterious and at the same time… dangerous, as if it's not right to involve you somehow with him, but being so striking and exciting at the same time.

"They're great, huh?"

Baela shouts to you over the music, with a huge excited smile, as you nod, really unable to stop focusing on him.

"Yes, they are."

Actually the band is really good, regardless of the looks of the members, because what looks.

The songs are like a mix of Arctic Monkeys, The Neighbourhood, Cigarettes After Sex and some Lana del Rey type instrumentals, they also have more danceable songs in the style of The 1975, but all with cool guitar and drum instrumentals.

You really like them, the style of their music is to your liking, but again… you can't help but focus on him.

The concert lasts a little more than an hour, where during some little intermissions, you saw how he was lighting a cigarette and playing the guitar at the same time, so it was more and more impossible to take your eyes off him, listening how sometimes the girls were shouting his name and he was greeting them back with a simple nod of his head, that being enough to drive them crazy.

And by the time everything ends, the vocalist Aegon starts to say goodbye to all the members with an euphoria and an energy that he gave off all over the audience so that they would react in the same way.

"I want to hear loud cheers for our drummer, Jace!"

Baela screams like crazy next to you, leaving you completely stunned, as well as more girls around you, while the mentioned stands up from his seat and waves goodbye to all of them, smiling.

"To our pianist, my little brother, Daeron!"

More shouts, as he also waves goodbye with his hands and with a charming and flirtatious smile to all the girls, moving closer to the stage, that making many girls come closer to the edge, wanting to touch him, as he laughs and takes several of them by the hand.

"To our bassist, Luke!"

Rhaena is now the one who leaves you stunned from your left ear, as more girls shout, while the boy smiles and looks a little shy, looking very cute, waving goodbye to all of them with his hand, then lowering his gaze with his cheeks slightly blushing.

You see how Aemond next to him gives him a friendly tap on his shoulder, watching him with a small half smile and looking somewhat amused by his behavior, that catching your attention a lot, since you didn't see him smile much towards his audience.

"Now for our guitarist, Aemond!"

You clap, but don't shout, seeing how immediately the place is filled with screams and more applause, realizing that even though he's not very expressive and doesn't react much to the audience, still the girls are completely crazy about him.

And you don't blame them, it's obvious that's because of how incredibly handsome and sexy that man is.

However, even so he doesn't react much again to his applause, only waves goodbye with one of his hands, really watching everyone expressionless, reading on his lips as he says "thank you" and then turns around and picks up a bottle of water.

You bite your lips, still watching him, when finally Aegon gives the closing.

"And at last your server, ladies!" says the vocalist in a flirtatious manner, again the place exploding in cheers, "That's been all Brooklyn, thank you so much for having us. See you next time, we love you guys!"

He does get closer to the audience, instantly the guards react to take care of him, while he takes everyone's hands and also takes some bracelets or necklaces that the girls give him, while he smiles and blows kisses.

The rest of the members start to leave the stage, while Aegon continues to take all the screams and those little gifts, really getting along very well with the audience, to finally after a few moments, say goodbye and leave the stage.

"Did you like them?"

Rhaena asks you as the three of them stand, waiting for all the other girls to leave the not so big but not so small club.

"Yes, their songs are fine," you nod to her.

"Their songs or the guitarist rather?" Baela asks you with a mischievous look.

"Oh come on," you give her a look of few friends, still nerves giving you away.

"I knew it!" squeals Rhaena with a huge smile, "I knew you weren't more asking about him than the others for nothing."

"And I don't blame you," adds Baela, "With those tattoos who wouldn't be crazy about him?"

"But you like Jace and he doesn't have tattoos."

"Aemond is fine, like exaggeratedly fine," she clarifies, "But I feel like I wouldn't stand a chance with him, plus he's too serious and too closed off for my taste," she explains.

"But Y/N did like him," Rhaena says, folding her arms, watching you with a huge smile.

You roll your eyes, amused.

"I think the same as Baela, I feel like I wouldn't be able to get close to him, he looks very… serious and distant," you say finally, " Beside it's not like I'm going to get the chance, he's just a guy in a band that I liked, just like I like Harry and Zayn from One Direction or Alex Turner from Arctic Monkeys."

"Oh he's so hot," Rhaena says with a little giggle.

"Who of the three of them?" asks Baela.

"The three of them."

You nod, more than agreeing with her.

"Anyway…" says Balea, "Turning our focus back to this band, maybe you can get close to the sexy guitarist tonight."

"Hm?" you say instantly not understanding, looking at her confused.

Then from her bag Baela pulls out what appear to be three rectangular sheets of paper, but when you look closely, they are actually three tickets to who knows what.

"These are tickets to the band's after party," she says excitedly.

At first you don't finish processing anything, watching her like a fool, when Rhaena squeals more than happy and in disbelief, instantly grabbing you both by the arm to rush out of the club in the direction of the party, while you're still processing and asking Baela how she got those tickets.

"Savings," she tells you simply and without much explanation.

Leaving the club is a bit difficult because of all the other girls who are also trying to leave, when the three of you are already arriving at the corresponding small pub where the after party will be, which in fact is right behind the club where the band gave the concert, so getting there doesn't take any time at all.

Once outside the pub, there are other girls waiting to get in, all excited and impatient, some of them have their own band t-shirts and posters for the band to sign. And at the entrance there are two huge men, asking for tickets and complying with security protocol to let them in.

"Help me take a picture with Luke when it's my turn, please," Rhaena asks you.

"Sure."

"Me too," Baela says instantly, "With Jace."

"Okay," you tell her amused.

Then finally all three of you hand the tickets to the seemingly bodyguard, only to enter without any trouble as you go through security protocols as well.

Rhaena shakes you by the arm excitedly, trying to control herself, as the three of you walk into the place, where you instantly recognize those platinum hairs spread all over the pub, already receiving the fans.

The place is considerably spacious, it doesn't feel as suffocating as at the concert and there's definitely more room to move around despite the fact that more girls are constantly coming in to meet the guys.

The bar is free, there is light rock music playing in the background and there are more bodyguards watching out.

You see how all the fans line up and wait their turn with each respective member, being the first to recognize the vocalist, Aegon, who more than smiling signs T-shirts, posters, hats and even phone cases. Also the pianist, Daeron, who takes selfies and also signs.

But when Rhaena identifies Luke, she quickly squeals and prepares to go to him with her T-shirt ready to be signed by him in hand, as does Baela, focusing on Jace.

You walk Rhaena over first, promising Baela to keep an eye out for her for when it's her turn with Jace, then start lining up, trying to calm your cousin's nerves as you sense she'll throw up at any moment or be unable to speak coherently to the bassist.

Then when Rhaena gets distracted on her phone, setting up the camera for pictures, you instantly think of the guitarist and start looking for him.

However, the only ones you see are Aegon, Daeron, Luke and Jace, with no fifth long platinum hair. Confused, you go back over the whole place, really him nowhere to be seen, realizing that there are girls specifically with posters of him, also just like you looking for him, all of them confused and disappointed.

And you don't understand, isn't he supposed to be here too?

You find it strange that out of all of them, it is him especially who doesn't make any appearance, while all the other members do attend to their fans, apparently not worried about the absence of their guitarist or anyone else actually, just the fans.

Inevitably you also start to get disappointed, but you immediately focus on Rhaena, as her turn will be soon and she insists that you help her calm down, giving her encouragement and support.

When the time comes.

The boy, Luke, is actually very sweet, instantly giving his full attention to Rhaena, who acts just as shy as he is, looking excited as the two gently embrace, while he asks her name and introduces himself to her as well.

He signs her T-shirt, also her phone case, all while they both talk, to then move on to the selfie and finally the photo, while you watch with a small smile as the boy's cheeks blush and Rhaena is more than excited and nervous at the same time, hugging him and smiling for the photo.

"This is my cousin, by the way, Y/N," Rhaena shyly introduces you to him as they both separate.

"Oh, hi Y/N, I'm Luke," the boy says to you with a charming smile, not being able to cause you more tenderness, "Thanks for coming."

"Hi," you say smiling, "Nice to meet you, Luke."

You take advantage of the moment and also take a selfie with him and Rhaena, where the three of you come out all smiles, without his cheeks stop blushing, and then pass the next fan.

Rhaena can't stop smiling, again shaking your arm excitedly and on the verge of collapsing with happiness, as she quickly goes through the photos, announcing that she will upload them to her Instagram stories this instant.

You laugh and then she heads off to line up to meet Daeron now, while you now head to Baela.

Unlike with Rhaena and Luke, you can clearly identify your cousin's flirting methods and surprisingly Jace reacts completely to her, looking just as flirty as she does, talking in her ear and both of them very close to each other.

You take their picture and get excited for your cousin, seeing how both of them even after the picture talk to each other, still very close, with that clear interest in the body behavior of both of them, but more of him towards her.

And you don't blame him either, no doubt your cousins are very beautiful, you always tell them every day and they tell you too.

At the end Baela also introduces you with Jace, he also looking very nice and friendly like his little brother, just not as cute, but very sexy.

Then after finishing with Jace, Baela turns to Rhaena, getting her in line to meet Daeron where both of them will now help each other with the pictures, so you head to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools, observing everything and taking the opportunity to order a free drink.

"Can I have a gin and tonic, please?" you ask the bar tender.

"Of course," the man says politely.

While he prepares your drink, you take the opportunity to check your social media, entertaining yourself for a moment and also looking at the time, realizing that it's almost midnight, so you'll probably be home by two in the morning.

You let out a long breath and at that moment the bar tender hands you the gin and tonic, you thank him and start drinking, relaxing and keeping your eye on your cousins.

When at that moment you remember him again, Aemond, so hopefully you look around the place again, looking for him, but you are surprised to see that there is still no sign of him, really confusing you.

The girls who were also looking for him before, line up to take pictures with Aegon, but like you, they also seem to be looking for him, without success.

It continues to seem weird to you and you feel really disappointed, just realizing in that instant how terribly disappointed you are, as if you've been a fan of his for months, when you've only just met him tonight, telling yourself what the hell is wrong with you.

So time passes, you watch as your cousins after meeting Daeron, head to Aegon, nothing really being quick as they take their time with each fan, until you finish your gin and tonic, not ordering anything else as you must be driving and stand at the bar, waiting.

It's until a few minutes later that you decide to go to the restroom, asking the bar tender where they are and he points you to a hallway at the back, instantly thanking him and heading that way.

You see how in the hallway there are four doors and you head to the two at the back, having the signs for the women's restroom and men's restroom, but when you try to open the door, it doesn't open, being occupied, realizing that it's only one restroom instead of several.

You let out a long breath, as this is common in small pubs, having to wait in the hallway, leaning against the wall for the girl inside to come out.

Again you distract yourself with your phone, holding back the urge to pee, trying not to get desperate, glancing from time to time through the hallway entrance at all the girls out there, being able to see your cousins from this distance, not long before it's their turn to meet Aegon.

You bite your lips and continue to wait, when as you are leaning between the wall and under the frame of one of the other doors that you have no idea where they go, it suddenly opens and you almost lose your balance, stabilizing yourself instantly and moving away, watching the person with some surprise and shame.

When the nerves and the surprise invade you completely, seeing that it is him, the guitarist.

He really looks at you without any expression on his face, while you place the appropriate distance between the two of you in this small hallway, still looking at him surprised and like an idiot, instantly telling yourself off to act normal, still watching him carefully.

And how could you not? The man is absolutely beautiful.

Compared to the concert, you have him face to face, his features being more than perfectly visible, admiring the shape of his lips and nose, as if it had been carefully carved, then nervously observing his intense blue eye and his sapphire eye, looking amazing and beautiful to you.

Then you quickly observe his various tattoos on both arms, recognizing a musical note, tree branches, birds, a moon and other figures you don't instantly identify, but you notice perfectly how he has a dragon on his shoulder.

Again you look him in the eye, getting instantly nervous because he is already watching you intensely, looking away from him because of the same nerves, having no idea how to really react since he doesn't move, neither do you and you feel unable to speak, feeling a lump in your throat.

He is simply too handsome and too sexy.

You think in the midst of all your nervousness, when the two of you are simply there, not far away but not too close either, suddenly feeling the hallway too small and feeling out of nowhere suffocated, not understanding what's wrong with you.

"Are there many people out there?"

He asks you suddenly, definitely not expecting that, as he stands still in the doorway, watching you, while you barely process the sound of his voice, watching him like an idiot for a moment.

React!

Your mind reprimands you, really not wanting to embarrass yourself with him, much less when he's just asked you something.

You clear your throat and control yourself, to look back towards the center of the pub, where there are indeed a lot of girls and there are many especially who want to see him. You bite your lips and return your nervous, attentive gaze to him, realizing that he hasn't even come out into the hallway, keeping himself hidden in that room.

"Yes," you finally say to him, trying to sound like a normal person, not letting your nerves completely get the better of you.

He lets out a long breath, then averts his gaze from yours and you watch as he carefully peeks out of the doorframe, this catching your attention, as he inspects everything and honestly looks a little irritated, which you don't understand why.

And at that moment you don't know if you should, considering he still wants to keep himself hidden, but also Baela's voice tells you: bitch, take advantage and talk to him, you literally have him right in front of you!

Yes, that's something she would tell you if she saw you now.

"You're not a fan of being among so many people?"

You ask him softly, overcoming your nerves, but again you feel your heart leap in your chest as he looks at you again.

"Not much," he answers you.

And at that moment, you only admire more of his handsome features he offers you as you stand face to face with his profile, actually making you very nervous. And his answer actually makes sense to you.

He on stage is very calm and quiet, so now having to be among all the fans, it really doesn't seem to be his strongest suit.

"Still a lot of girls are looking forward to seeing you," you tell him softly, "They all look very excited."

You see how he frowns a bit, not saying anything back to you, which alerts you a bit since you really don't want to ruin this opportunity by talking to him, even though it seems you already have, but… what did you say wrong?

He continues to look at you like that, so intensely, when then you see perfectly how he looks you up and down, definitely making you more nervous than before, and then you see how he puts his hands in his front pockets and leans on the door frame casually.

The image couldn't have infarcted you more, as he does everything in a calculated manner, movements so simple that they already completely steal your breath away, only for him to tilt his head and continue watching you with that intensity, but now also curious.

"And you don't?"

He asks you with that soft but so manly voice that makes you part your lips, completely weakening your legs, watching him for a moment without understanding while he watches you expectantly, but still with that sexy demeanor.

"You weren't expecting to see me?"

Oh my God.

You think, unable to answer him, your voice right now not working, much less when he continues with his burning gaze in your direction, now having no idea how to behave.

However, you know you must be behaving like a fool in his eye, so you force yourself to answer him but truthfully.

"Actually," you start to say, trying to control your nerves, "I'm waiting for the person in the restroom to come out," you point your gaze to the door, to again watch him.

Then he too watches the restroom door for a moment, to again focus on you, watching perfectly as he presses his lips together in a soft, thin line and then you see what appears to be a small, barely visible grin appear.

And even though you didn't see him smile much during the concert, nor does he do it in his band's promotional photos, now that you see him do it and only meters away from you, the man couldn't look more beautiful to you.

"Hm," is all he says, turning back to watching you like that, his gaze completely attentive and burning, all his attention on you.

Holy shit.

That's all you can think, watching him without taking your eyes off him, just as he does with you, again feeling the space suddenly very small and the air hot.

When suddenly, you see perfectly well how he opens his mouth to say something, taking a step forward, calling your full attention, but at the moment he does that, a girl at the beginning of the hallway shouts his name at the sight of him.

And that's when chaos breaks out.

The girl quickly heads towards him, excited, instantly being followed by a bunch of other girls, all holding caps and t-shirts for him to sign, wasting no time and completely breaking the spell between the two of you.

You watch Aemond again and he's already watching you, but instantly he starts giving attention to all the girls, being surrounded by all of them, to which you can't help but feel disappointed because the moment is over, since... you don't know what the fuck was going on a few seconds ago with him but you were enjoying it.

When at that moment the door to the women's restroom finally opens, a girl coming out of it but now being difficult to get back to the center of the pub because of Aemond and all his girls obstructing the way.

You head for the restroom, suddenly feeling that same attentive and burning gaze on your back again for a few seconds as you close the door behind you. You take all the time in the world, trying to calm your heart rate and trying to stop feeling your hot skin, processing what happened out there with him, really taking a considerable amount of time.

You realize you need Baela's advice, thinking about texting her right now and getting her to give you techniques so you don't get nervous, but you doubt she'll text back if she's still getting to know the rest of the members of the band.

However, you don't know if you should ask Aemond for a picture or not, not being very sure about it, but you know that if you don't ask him for a picture or an autograph, you will regret it tomorrow.

You let out a sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror and telling yourself that you have to control, that you shouldn't act like a fool and that you should behave as normal as possible, not letting your nerves get the better of you.

In the end you don't text anyone, you gather your courage and finally come out of the restroom.

The first thing you see is how Aemond is still there, only now with few girls, in fact finishing signing an autograph for them, to which you watch him carefully and attentively, again having no idea whether to go back to the center of the pub to find your cousins and get their advice before going back to him or ask for his autograph here, taking advantage of it.

But you don't even have anything he can sign for you, except your phone case.

However, the time to think and decide is over when the girls take a picture with him and then start to walk away, all of them looking at him with that excited gaze and of complete desire, while Aemond looks at them one last time and... he watches you again.

And there you have your nerves again, but you don't let them get the better of you, lowering your gaze for a moment, thinking quickly about what to say to him, feeling again that tension between the two of you now that you are alone again in this small hallway.

And at this, Aemond decides to act fast, considering the after party isn't over yet.

"Do you want me to sign something for you?"

He asks you while directing all his attention towards you, with those fucking movements he makes that aren't that big of a deal but completely steal your breath, standing completely still and watching him carefully.

Talk, act, react!

Your fed up and annoyed mind tells you, also Baela's voice if she saw you at this moment, so that's what you do, however, again you respond with the truth and with shame.

"Yes, I'd love to," you look at him nervous, "But I don't really have anything for you to sign."

"You bought tickets to our after party and you didn't bring anything the band can sign for you?"

Oh God.

You think on the verge of collapsing in embarrassment, as he again looks at you between slightly confused and curious.

"Well, I didn't know my cousin had bought tickets to meet you. It was actually her and my other cousin who brought me to the concert," you explain, trying not to show how really nervous you are, as he tilts his head in your direction.

"So you're not a fan," he assumes and you're so embarrassed that he's right.

"But... you were still amazing tonight," you tell him instantly, being terribly honest, "I liked your music and will definitely listen to it often."

He nods slowly in your direction, apparently now understanding you, watching you even with that curiosity and again that small, barely visible grin appearing on his lips, watching him run you from head to toe, not being able to make you any more nervous than you already are.

"Hm," he says in nod, "That explains why you didn't jump on me the second I opened the door."

You let out a nervous little laugh, looking away from him for a second.

"Disappointed?" you ask him a bit amused.

"Just a little."

You smile softly in his direction, not showing your teeth, as he continues to make you nervous and make you feel as if the space between you is very short and the air is hot as he continues to watch you like that, as if inspecting you and as if he wants to see right through you.

However, you know that the moment can be broken at any moment if more girls come looking for him, so you don't get your hopes up too high. When suddenly he averts his gaze and points you to the door through which he left a few moments ago.

"It's our break room," he tells you, "There are new t-shirts and posters in there, if you want I can sign one of them and give it to you."

Oh my...

You feel the excitement run through you, definitely not expecting that, starting to feel your heart rate accelerate, but you instantly get yourself under control and tell yourself that no way are you going to pass up the opportunity.

"Well, if it's no problem," you nod to him.

He starts backing away, as he heads for the door.

"Come."

And you don't hesitate to follow him.

He opens the door for you, watching you intently and again with that intensity, to which you again feel like your heart will probably jump out of your chest, from excitement and also from nerves, to finally enter the room.

You don't even know why but a shiver runs through your whole body, bristling your skin, as he closes the door behind you and walks past you, his arm gently brushing yours, feeling for an instant his burning skin.

He heads towards a table, while you watch him attentively and take a look at the room, not big but not small either, seeing how there are numerous backpacks, sound equipment, tables, chairs, a couch and also a table with snacks and bottles of water.

There are also the guitar cases, identifying his guitar on the couch, where he was probably sitting playing before, hiding from everyone out there. The noise here is less, you hear more the background music than voices, actually this space being very calm.

"What do you prefer?"

You suddenly hear him say to you, instantly causing you to stop surveying the room and focus on him, who is already watching you intently, pointing out the caps, t-shirts or posters on the table.

"Or do you want all three?" he observes you with that grin.

Focus, Y/N. You can do it.

You tell yourself, not wanting him to affect you any more than he's already affecting you or you'll ruin this moment by letting yourself get carried away by nerves, which is just what you don't want.

So you try not to focus too much on his mannerisms when he's talking to you.

"The shirt is fine," you point out to him.

You're not a big fan of the caps and posters you like but on this occasion... you're going more for the T-shirt.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

You choose the T-shirt in your size while he picks up a pen, then you hand it to him and he starts writing.

"What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeats slowly as he writes it down.

This sends a wave of excitement and nerves throughout your body because of the way he has said it, concentrating on his writing, while you watch him intently, still finding the shape of his face and also his hair majestic, looking more majestic having him right in front of you.

You really don't understand what's wrong with him but God... he's really beautiful.

"So you're not a fan hm?"

He says to you as he finishes signing and hands you the shirt, instantly placing a nervous little smile, taking it.

"Actually no. My cousins brought me, they were both very excited and needed someone to drive."

At this he again looks interested and turns around to lean against the edge of the table casually, crossing his arms, watching you, while you stand next to him and almost have to lift your whole head up to him so you can look him in the eye as you talk.

"You don't live in Brooklyn?"

You shake your head.

"Manhattan."

He frowns slightly.

"Manhattan?"

He repeats and you nod, watching him curiously for a moment as you watch him think in silence for a few seconds, then again watching you curious and confused at the same time.

"And why your cousins didn't buy tickets for the concert we're giving there next Friday?"

"Oh," you go blank for a moment, but react instantly, remembering, "Well, they did want to buy tickets, but they had credit card problems and by the time they fixed it, all the tickets were sold out and they bought the Brooklyn ones," you explain.

He doesn't say anything else to you for a few seconds, watching you intently, as he has been watching you all along, so intently that you feel your legs go weak, to which you nervously avert your gaze from him and look at the T-shirt in your hands, seeing his autograph.

And all you can think about is how crazy Baela and Rhaena will go when you tell them this.

"Pick something for your cousins," he says suddenly, making you look at him again, "I'll sign it too."

"Oh, sure, thanks."

You tell him with a nervous little smile to start choosing, beginning to believe that you'll never really stop feeling nervous in his presence, much less if you're both alone in this room.

For Rhaena you choose a poster for her, as she's a big fan of having lots of them of her favorite artists and sticking them all over her room, while for Baela you also choose a t-shirt.

You notice how Aemond walks away for a moment as you look for Baela's size, then return and begin to sign that for your cousins as well, again watching or rather subtly admiring his face of concentration as he begins to write.

"Here," he gives you everything, finishing.

"Thank you very much,"

You tell him sincerely, as he straightens up completely again, setting the pen down on the table and leaning back against the edge of it.

"You're welcome," he nods in your direction.

You look away, having no idea how to say goodbye to him, you don't even want the moment to end even though his gaze on you makes you feel so nervous, but for obvious reasons, your cousins must already be looking for you and you know he must be out here to attend to more of his fans.

"Hum... then I'll see you... out there, I guess," you smile at him, starting to walk away, "This was very kind of you."

"Wait."

He says to you suddenly, stopping your step, standing in front of him, as you watch him take a few more steps towards you, completely alerting you, but seeing him take a hand to the back of his pants, watching as he takes something from his pocket, confusing you but completely getting your attention.

Then his eye watches you back, his gaze so intense and so penetrating, as you watch him with your lips parted, this suddenly closeness suffocating you too much, not helping anything that the two of you are here alone.

However, he places his hand between the two of you, handing you something and when you look at it, confusion overtakes you further, seeing that they are tickets to his concert as they have the words 'Dragon Dynasty" printed in large letters on them.

"These are tickets for the concert in Manhattan, next Friday," he says softly, still hand them to you.

And even after explaining, you still don't finish processing anything, as he continues waiting for you to take them, while you continue to stand still and watch him like an idiot, slowly beginning to understand.

"B-but...

"Take them, Y/N," he says again, softly, watching you expectantly.

Take them? Just like that? For free?

You immediately deny, staring at him in confusion.

"No, but... I-I...wait, you...

"It's fine," she assures you, interrupting you.

"But you can't do this or can you?" you ask him totally bewildered and surprised, not believing it.

"Of course I can, in fact I'm doing it now," he tells you as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

But you continue to watch him confused, not understanding why he is doing this with you especially, again feeling the nerves invade you and the hot air hit you mercilessly, not being able to think straight.

"W-what? But...

"What is it?" he asks taking a step closer to you, stopping your heart for a second, "Don't you want to see me again?"

My God...

No. You can't do it anymore. It's right there when you lose it completely.

The way he has asked you, watching you completely attentively and with that barely visible grin, his body starting to invade your personal space, slowly leaning towards you, the space between you both ceasing to exist and all of him embracing you completely.

That delicious manly cologne hits your nostrils, also the slight smell of cigarette, everything about him being so alluring, so sexy, so mysterious and dangerous somehow.

And he does it all in such a calculating way... he doesn't even do it all that fast, he does it all slow, just the way he wants to catch you, while you slowly start to let yourself be carried away by him as well.

With your heart beating too fast, you look at the tickets in his hand and slowly raise your eyes to look at him, when he is already looking at you and just like that.

Don't you want to see me again?

His question repeats in your mind, at that moment no longer taking anything else into account. Because he is clearly flirting with you, and why do you not do the same?

"Do you want to see me again?"

You ask him in your soft, low voice, to which he only leans a little closer to you, that grin returning.

"Isn't it obvious?"

He tells you in the same way, his voice soft, low and completely calculating, his answer surprising and thrilling you, watching perfectly as he watches between your eyes and your lips, his eye completely full of desire, while you do the same.

You wonder what it will feel like to kiss him, how he will reciprocate, if soft or hard and if you will also feel his hands on your body, caressing you.

The atmosphere feels tense somehow, as you both start to invade each other's personal space, at the same time as your hand takes the tickets, all hot air and suddenly feeling that need to touch him, to kiss him, to feel him closer to you.

However, just as the small distance between the two of you starts to disappear, with all his delicious scent and his whole alluring body enveloping you completely, just at that damn moment the door suddenly opens.

You jump all the way back, scared and surprised, as the two of you stare at the door and Aegon is the responsible for the interruption.

"Dude, why are you still here? Cole's going to kill you if you don't come out this instant, you know? It's crazy out there, there's girls crying, they want to see you and you-oh....

He stops talking suddenly, barely in that instant realizing your presence as well even though you're standing next to Aemond, feeling embarrassment run through all your body, as he realizes what was probably going on here when he watches you both with his lips parted, so you lower your gaze in shame and bite your lips.

"My bad, sorry," he says and then slowly places a mischievous smile, now watching you and Aemond continuously, "I interrupted something, didn't I?"

You listen as Aemond clears his throat, no longer feeling the closeness of his body against yours, while you feel the embarrassment more.

"No," he tells him in a more serious voice and nothing compared to how he was speaking to you before.

"Oh," Aegon says again and you pluck up the courage to finally get out of here.

"Thank you," you say to Aemond without even looking at him, hurrying out of the room.

With all the things he signed in your hands and also the tickets, you don't even look at Aegon when you pass by his side, feeling so embarrassed and starting to feel your cheeks very hot, not bearing to be in his presences anymore.

And you don't even look back, you just run away, not being able to believe that you were about to make out with him, the sexy guitarist, Aemond.

You immediately look around like crazy for your cousins, seeing that Baela is taking a picture of Rhaena with Jace, so you quickly head towards them, acting normal, waiting for them to finish and by the time they do, you hand them the t-shirt and the poster.

"Where were you?" asks Baela confused.

"In the restroom and I got this for you," you say without much detail, the memory of Aemond's beautiful face near you still so fresh.

"Why are you so red?" asks you now Rhaena confused.

"I drank a gin and tonic," you lie, acting totally unconcerned with Aemond's lips about to touch yours still present .

"Did you talk to the sexy guitarist?" asks you Baela excited.

"Yes," you say acting unconcerned.

"And?"

"Nothing," you say with a shrug and she looks at you disappointed.

If only she knew.

But nothing ends there. Both of them now want a picture with Aemond even though they already have each his autograph, so you decide to wait again at the bar and they follow you, waiting for him to show up, you for anything in the world wanting to be near him again with your cousins around.

When then Aemond finally comes out of that hallway, appearing in the center of the pub with Aegon by his side, instantly you and him exchanging glances without even expecting it at all. And even with the embarrassment, you quickly avert your gaze from him, as the both begin to be surrounded by more girls, among them your cousins.

You're not sure exactly how much time passes, until finally Baela and Rhaena are satisfied and the three of you leave the pub, with half an hour left before the after party is over, but it's too late now and you have to drive.

However, before the three of you get in the car, you pull out the tickets that Aemond gave you for free and extend them to them.

"These are tickets for the concert in Manhattan, Aemond gave them to me," you say and then head for the driver's seat door, unlocking the doors.

And then all you hear as you start to leave your cousins behind are their screams.

During the whole ride, neither of them leave you alone, wanting to know exactly in detail what happened with the guitarist, Baela more than anything else feeling offended that you lied to her when she asked you if anything happened with him.

But when you tell them about everything and also about how the two of them almost kissed, she doesn't feel upset anymore and screams excitedly together with Rhaena, both surprised and unable to believe it, also unable to believe about the free tickets.

Luckily the questions don't last for the whole ride, so you also have time to think about him, Aemond, everything that happened with him and pretty much everything about him not leaving your thoughts alone as you drive from Brooklyn to Manhattan.

[thisismeracing]

PLEASE write a fic/blurb about how to mentioned the idea of staying up for mick to get home after his long night in the sim and just cuddling and comforting him and listening to him rant 🙏🏾

I love it when you guys read my tags and bring something out of them hahahah ❤️ I adjusted the idea a bit, hope u like it!

Based on my reaction to the sim work video (here)

word count: 0.6k

pairing: mick schumacher x reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, not proofread, mentions of food, and lack of sleep.

It was past two AM when Mick got home after the whole day at the Merc factory doing sim work with the team. He was tired, although he had a can or two of an energy drink, almost giving up and adding a cup of coffee to the list by the end of the night.

The apartment was silent when he unlocked the door, most of the lights were switched off, except for a small lamp between the living room exit and the kitchen entrance, the flickering light illuminating the corridor that took him to the bedroom. Yn would always leave a light or two for him, and it warmed his heart, it felt like her saying she thought of him before going to bed, that she knew he would come home to her before the sun was up in the sky.

Mick made his way to the bedroom, stopping by the threshold. Right in the middle of the bed, Yn was sound asleep cuddling one of his pillows, her hair in a satin bonnet to protect the braids she got recently, her phone still between her fingers probably waiting for a message or call from him.

He smiled.

Nothing would ever beat coming home to her.

He was exhausted, his head pounding and his body full of knots, but seeing her there, just taking a look at her, was enough to lift half of the weight of the world from his shoulders.

Mick made quick work of taking off his clothes and climbing into bed beside her. Yn stirred when the mattress dipped and she felt the familiar warmth engulf her body. In her hazy sleepy state, eyes still closed, she extended her arms looking for any limb she could grab and hug. Her boyfriend chuckled lightly and positioned half of her on top of him, her hands quickly finding his torso and shoulders.

"What time do you leave?" she mumbled, pecking his chest.

Mick sighed, drawing patterns on her dark skin.

"In a couple hours."

"Wake me up when you do, we are still supposed to have breakfast together," she reminded the German and he kissed her forehead before weariness knocked them out.

It was just three hours later when Mick woke up. He tried his best to leave the bed without waking Yn, but the second his body shifted to move her, she opened her eyes.

"We can have breakfast tomorrow, Liebe, it's not a problem," he whispered, easing her back into bed, but Yn sat up rubbings the sleep out of her eyes.

"I can go back to sleep once you leave, let's enjoy our hour together, mkey?"

He smiled, and although the morning was a bit cold, his body and heart felt warmer than ever.

Yn helped Mick check all his documents and small stuff he tended to forget at home, and they cooked a quick breakfast together, all while he ranted about last night's sim work and how excited he was for the race later today. Yn listened attentively, eyes never leaving him. Every once in a while she would drop a comment or hmm in agreement, but Mick did most of the talking and she took the time to enjoy the gleam in his eyes while talking about what he loved, his relaxed posture though his body was visibly tired.

She loved to be on the receiving end of that passionate talk, especially when breakfast was finished and they sat in the living room to eat and cuddle.

When it was time Mick left for the airport and promised to text her as soon as he landed. She knew he would because he always did. And just like that she went to sleep with the lights on again, knowing that in the morning he would be back home to her.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mellowpizzapuppy @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @chaoticevilbakugo @carojasmin2204 @wondergirl101ks @smiithys

[lucysarah-c]

Following your answer on homosexuality in AoT, how would sexism in AoT be handled on both sides of the spectrum, female and male, on Paradis and in Marley?

Hi, dear! How are you?

Ah, that's such a good question. You know, I did a post about it a LONG time ago, but it’s a topic I touch on a lot in my fics and here from time to time.

I'll set the context of my reply with three ideas. First, sexism or misogyny ALWAYS exists. It exists in our society like oxygen does. In many countries, it’s not the same sexism as in the 1800s, but it still exists. Second, the Scouts PER SE are the "wokes" of their time; they don't have the same views, lives, and beliefs as regular people inside the walls. So I always think that the Scouts are a bit of an "exception" from the rest of Paradis.

Third, and I state this because my blog is Levi-centered, Levi is ALREADY a person, and in particular, a man, with a very different and unique upbringing. I DO believe that Levi has a more "modern" or "woke" view on "women," "women's rights," and "house chores" than the rest of the men. I'll simply say this: a man who saw his mother being treated like garbage because she worked as a prostitute, a man who had to raise himself, and a man who RAISED a girl out of pure heart. I hardly think he judges women on how they dress, who they sleep with, or thinks that "a man shouldn't cook or clean/take care of the kids." So Levi is kind of an exception for me. This doesn't mean he doesn't have internalized misogyny or "micro-sexism" (which I'll talk about later).

Overall, despite both societies allowing "women" in the military, I don't think their views on women or men's roles are much different. I believe there are a few clear examples of this in the manga. If my memory serves me correctly (and take this with a grain of salt because I know that Isayama gave multiple interviews, and a lot of them were edited), he said on one occasion that the Scouts were different because usually, everybody helps with all the chores, like cooking, cleaning, etc., because they work more united and as a family than the rest of the military divisions. Second, he said in one interview right after the manga ended that when he draws "military boards or higher ranks," he always keeps in mind not to add women because they aren't allowed.

Other scenes that quickly come to mind that make me think that Paradis (and I'll speak mostly of Paradis because we don't see much of Marley as a society) is a very sexist society with traditional views:

Most of the time, when we are shown military members from the Garrison OR the MPs, they are mostly men.

Which women are shown that are "recalled" from the Garrison? Riko and Anka… What role does Anka have? Being a secretary for Pixis, more or less, a very stereotypical role for a woman.

A very memorable woman from the MPs is Hitch, and there's a scene where it's clearly said that "there's only one way a woman like Hitch can get into the MPs," basically stating that she made sexual favors to get into that position.

Not a single scene from the military board or higher-up positions shows a single woman.

All the mothers of the characters shown in the story are "housewives" or "stay-at-home moms," which is absolutely fine if a woman decides to dedicate her time to her family as long as it’s a decision she made and not because she didn’t have "other options." Even Eren's mother, Carla, is shown to work as a waitress before she became a mother and a housewife.

All this makes me conclude that probably women inside the military never reach far, either because they aren't allowed (men are preferred over them, offered better positions, promoted first) or because once they get married, they are expected to become stay-at-home wives. I can clearly imagine people thinking that if you get promoted as a woman, it's because you're sleeping with your boss, or if you haven't gotten married and had kids at a certain age, "you're wasting your time" or "a woman's role is to be a mom; they only feel fulfilled like that."

This creates a power dynamic: women are expected to be wives; therefore, men are expected to be the main providers. And this is something I can see men, particularly Levi, being affected by. In my fic, I wrote once that Levi gets very offended when the reader invites or pays for him because she comes from a wealthy family. For Levi, as internalized misogyny, HIS role as a man is to provide. What kind of man is he if he's not paying? Especially for the Scouts' men, it's said that the Scouts have the lowest salaries in the military. If they can't provide, their chances of getting married are probably low. Even today, a lot of men get sensitive or offended if their wives make more money than them. Or men get irrationally jealous and butthurt if their women are more successful than them.

Another way men might get the sour end is in terms of emotional availability. While women's harsh reality is known, men's struggles often aren't. For example (one from Marley), Reiner's mother suffers a lot of social prejudice because she had a kid out of wedlock, and her only "salvation" is that Reiner becomes a warrior. Even today, men struggle with being emotionally available and having more feelings than just "lust and anger." I can totally see men all over the AoT world having to be these "very tough" guys who are only allowed to be "human" when they are alone with "their girl/wife." This happened a lot after WWI; men were sent back home with horrible memories of war and society expected them to just "toughen up and be men." Go, work, and provide for your family; and if you're suffering from everything you lived, then learn to be a man.

It's like I can literally imagine Erwin perhaps complaining that he's having a hard time, and Zackly or any other dude would be like, "You know what you need? A wife; she will take care of the rest."

"I don't have time to dedicate."

"Doesn't matter, a good wife always understands."

"… my salary isn't that good."

"Oh well, you know it's never too late for you to change divisions and settle down." pat on the back lmao end of the advice, and Erwin has the same emotional stress as before.

Overall, I think their views are probably as traditional as they were only a couple of years ago. This is completely ignorable for the sake of fanfiction and having fun; not every piece you write has to send a message or be political. But if you ask me how I think canon AoT characters are, I believe a good part of them, if not most, would be very traditional.

Hope this helps! I tried to cover everything I could remember while being as concise as possible. Thank you so much for your question!

Lots of love!

[emeryhall]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Also, thank you to @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for asking me this question too! ❤️ Here goes...

Only Creatures (88K, E)

The fic I just completed. I think this is my best plot with the possible exception of, well, see below. In the middle, I felt like I had so many balls in the air, I was afraid I wouldn't catch them all, or at least not gracefully, but I think I managed it. I've been working on my plots hinging on character choices. They walk through a door, the door shuts behind them, they cannot re-open it, and they change. I feel like I finally got it with this fic. And then there was the morning I woke up to find that @artsyunderstudy had drawn art for chapter 5 and my heart exploded. Except she kept drawing art and every time, I got to see my words come to life in the most beautiful way imaginable. Oh, oh! And then @monbons sewed me a little wings & tail Simon doll and Baz in his PJs, and I adore them ❤️❤️

Blood Sugar Sex Moony (63K, E)

The other contender for best plot. I think this is possibly my most creative fic. Sirius and Remus are both canon-compliant guerrilla soldiers from 1981 AND a goth-boy and star quarterback at a SoCal high school in the mid-90s. I wrote it for the 2023 @rsbigbang, which finally narrowed the wolfstar community down to a small enough group that I could make friends! It's also how I met @euripidestrousers who shaped this fic into what it became. And I was lucky enough to get the amazing artist @spikesteaseasalt as its illustrator.

A Little Bit Deadly (49K, E)

Derek Jeter. Need I say more? This fic was my introduction to the Carry On fandom, and that is reason alone for it to be one of my favorites. Y'all are a beautiful community of people who have been so kind and enthusiastic and welcoming. I'm delighted to be a part of you. ❤️ This fic was another one where I woke up from having posted the last chapter and found that @letraspal had made art - ART! And then she kept making art, including the glorious Mr. June. Derek Jeter was modeled on my amazing orange chonk who died, and every time I see Annie's drawings of him, it makes me cry a little. I feel like he gets to live on in this fic and Annie's art.

The Space Between (34K, M)

This is the first fic I wrote, having read absolutely zero fanfic. It was tagged entirely wrong, had a terrible summary, and only three kudos for, like, ages. But I had one enthusiastic reader who left me the kindest comments about my writing, and since then, it's gained its handful of fans who don't mind a little sadness. I still think it contains some of my prettiest writing, and I love the "behind the veil" space I created, which came out of my studies of Symbolist playwrights for my doctorate.

night after night, I let you eat me alive (8K, E)

Aka, my cannibalism fic. This one took me by surprise. I wrote this ridiculous short story because I needed a break from my Big Bang fic, then wondered if I should post it at all because I thought it was too out there. Happily, some of the RS/BB crew encouraged me because people love it. I love writing comedy, and I think this is the funniest thing I've written. But also, a sweet little fluffy love story - with a twist!

[ciahasnolife]

I knoooow, I should post the second part of the loscar fic but... I might've or might not have been working on a lestappen omegaverse fic?

So here's a wip of it

So the problem with being an omega while everyone thinks you're an alpha is that they treat you like an alpha. It's not like Max wanted any special treatment, exactly the opposite of that. That's why he hid his secondary gender from the public who just then assumed he's an alpha. With his board shoulders, his careless reputation towards the media and with his bluntness it was logical. Since the FIA and pretty much everyone in the paddock already knew, he doesn't have to tell the world which he is grateful for.

He would hate being pictured as a fragile, weak person who needs someone to take care of him. He is a lot of things but weak is not one of them. But sometimes - just sometimes - when people boo at him for example on the podium at the Miami GP, he just wants to hide in his nest, curled around his boyfriend, who would then draw circles on his back with his other hand soothingly in his hair.

There are two problems with that. One is that he for obvious reasons can't do that and the other is that he doesn't have a boyfriend. He doesn't want to share with anyone that he's an omega because of the fear of them telling the whole world if something goes wrong between them, his father made sure he developed this fear very soon after he presented as an omega. His father was so angry and ashamed of him because of something he couldn't even change. So now, he doesn't really trust anyone except for the ones who already know, not that he would have the time for dating, he's too busy breaking records.

Besides, he wouldn't want anyone else but a certain man with the most charming style you've ever seen and his hot accent, a dream come true. Of course, with a personality and looks like that, the alpha has omegas after himself 24/7. Max couldn't even stand a chance.

The point is, that when people whistle or boo at him, he just wants to hide away. Under the covers or preferably behind the alpha but of course in those moments he can't do either.

So when he's about to do his interview, which he doesn't want either and if neither the fans are interested, they could all just leave it, but no, the fans have to boo at him and whistle and make him feel bad because neither of the Ferrari drivers could catch him, he couldn't be more grateful for Charles to shush them. And if he's being completely honest, it makes him fall for the monégasque even more.

He shoots a quick smile at the other and does his interview then goes on with his day like he always does on quali days. Team debrief, stay in with GP to find the perfect strategy for tomorrow's race, go back to the hotel, get the scent blockers off and go shower. What he doesn't expect is a message waiting for him as he gets out of the shower from someone who makes his heart flutter.

Hey, just wanted to check on you, if you're okay?

Charles:

I know that the Italian fans can be a bit harsh on everyone who isn't at Ferrari.

I'm sorry they're so mean to you :(

And Max can't believe his eyes. Because one, did Charles really waste even a minute on texting him instead of basking in the love of the Tifosi and two, was that a sad face?

He just shakes his head and replies.

Yeah, everything's alright.

Max:

Thanks for shushing them, means a lot

The last bit gets deleted before he sends it. Not like it doesn't mean a lot, he's just afraid that he's giving away too much and the younger will learn about his embarrassingly huge crush on him.

He doesn't think too much of it though just makes his way over to his suitcase to get a fresh pair of boxers out of it.

But as he goes back to the bed and picks his phone back up with his WhatsApp with the monégasque still open, he sees the three dots pop up and then disappear only to reappear seconds later.

It makes the omega curious because even if they’ve been on good terms, friends even with the other for a while now they don't really talk outside the track on race weekend so the first message was already unexpected just as it was also sweet of the alpha to check on him, Max can't even take a guess on what the other would want from him.

As he was thinking the text finally came in so he checks it with a bit too much enthusiasm. And Max once again can't believe his eyes.

Which hotel you're staying at?

Charles:

Just as he goes to reply, another bubble comes up.

Fuck, no, that sounded weird.

Charles:

I meant if I could come over to keep you company and I could also get away from the fans waiting for my every move under my window.

It is of course okay if you want to be alone I totally understand that too

Just thought we could hang out a for a bit play

With each mesaage his eyes open wider. Surely Charles finally lost his mind. I was only a matter of time anyway with the shitbox he has under him. He, however, doesn't want to be rude so he sends out a message that - hopefully - doesn't give away too much of how excited he is.

Sure, I have my FIFA on me if you're in the mood of losing

Max:

He can only hope that the other gets the joke because Max has been told that he's a dry texter several times. But today, luck decided to be on his side.

Ooh, it's on

Charles:

Send the address, Verstappen

If you dare;)

And with a grin that could blind the Tifosi camping outside the alpha's hotel, Max sends the address.

[fayes-fics]

Succour

Double Bind Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Follow on to Reprimand. Benedict soothes your pain and Anthony makes a bold choice.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), vaginal sex, massage, aftercare. Affection, emotions, confessions and proposals. Mildly angsty maybe (?)

Word Count: 5.7 k

Authors Note: Last planned fic in this series. Thank you to @colettebronte for betaing. Requested by and dedicated to @eleanor-bradstreet, who framed most of the last three fics in this series. I errr hope everyone likes this. Enjoy(?) <3

The next evening you steal away to Benedict’s lodging under cover of darkness, paying your footman some pin money to take you there in a carriage after dinner.  

You managed to avoid your family for the day, hiding in your room and claiming you had a headache as a way to disguise your discomfort. Anthony’s harsh treatment, which at the time felt like penance, absolution, even, now feels tender. Blooms on your skin that you can hide from everyone… except the man you have arranged to see tonight. You consider not going through with the plan to meet until you are healed, but you can’t resist him any more than you can his older brother. 

You hide behind a large velvet hooded cloak as you step down from the carriage and bustle to the door already opening before you get to it. It’s not the valet that greets you, as you expect, but the man himself.

“Y/n,” Benedict greets and, glancing around the deserted street, closes the door. You both know no one comes for art instruction after 10 pm; if you are seen, there will be talk.

“He knows Benedict!” you lament the instant the door closes, removing your heavy cloak. “Anthony. He called at my house while I was here two days ago; he knows we were together. Oh god. I have no idea what to do!!!” 

All day you had managed to keep a lid on your simmering anxiety about what transpired with Anthony, primarily through denial. But seeing his brother, it all comes tumbling out of you.

“Shhh, shhh,” he soothes and places his hands on your shoulders as if considering taking you into an embrace but deciding against it. “All will be well. He only knows that you were here, not what we got up to,” he tries to reason.

“Benedict, you left teeth marks on my inner thigh!” you bemoan. “He's not stupid. I tried to claim it was something else, but, dear god, your brother is not that obtuse… I honestly don't know what he will do,” you fret. “He looked so hurt and sent me away last night.”

“He has no claim of exclusivity over you,” Benedict points out, very much wanting that to be true as much as it may be objectively questionable. 

“He told me, in no uncertain terms, that he thought it was clear he is the only one I should be with.”

“And has he made similar promises to you? Because if not, that feels distinctly unfair. For all you know, he could be with another.”

You pause for a moment. Benedict is right. Anthony made no such claim of devotion, merely that you should only be with him, not that he should only be with you also.

“He did not,” you admit.

Benedict curls the arms on your shoulders and draws you into his embrace. His scent, the one that makes your mouth water, surrounds you as your cheek is crushed onto his breastbone. Instead of just arousing, tonight it is also comforting. Safe. You band your arms around his waist and take a deep breath, burrowing into him—taking refuge.

“My girl. I cannot speak for him, but I would devote myself to you wholly. I would never be with another as long as you give me the word that is what you desire,” the words vibrate against your jaw as they rumble in his chest.

You know that Benedict is trying to twist the situation to his advantage, but nonetheless, you believe him and appreciate the honesty behind his words. It’s just not something you want to contemplate tonight.

“Do not, Benedict,” you warn. “Please. I cannot think of the future right now,” you pull back and look pleadingly into his eyes. “I just wish to live for the now, for tonight. I need touch, kisses….” you trail off in a whisper.

He nods in understanding and wordlessly takes your hand, pulling you into his drawing room, where the heavy velvet drapes are already helpfully closed, and a fire is roaring. It feels like a place of comfort.

But when the arm he wraps around your waist makes you wince, a cloud of concern flits over his face.

“What did he do to you?”

“He reprimanded me,” you answer simply. “And I let him. I wanted it. I needed it.”

Benedict shoots you a sorrowful look.

“I do not want your pity Benedict,” you state fiercely, “I choose this.”

“But, my darling girl, there’s a difference between punishment and pain. You appear to be in pain, and it hurts me to see you hurting. Come here,” he pulls you into his arms in a loose embrace, surprisingly sweet. “Let me soothe you,” he murmurs into your hair, placing a kiss on your forehead.

This is not the commanding Benedict he was the last time you met; his tone and touch are gentle. He backs you towards the fireplace, where you feel the warmth from the crackling flames. 

It’s there that he undresses you. He doesn’t tell you to strip. He doesn’t tear your dress off. No, he stands behind you, delicate fingers brushing your spine as he slowly unbuttons between your shoulder blades: just slow breathing and the hiss and pops of sap boiling in those wooden logs. Your dress hits the floor, and he reaches around in front wordlessly to loosen the strings of your chemise until it gapes enough to slip over your shoulders. The second it joins your dress around your ankles, he sucks in a breath.

“Oh, my darling girl, what did he do to you?” He sounds almost tremulous as there are gossamer caresses over the marks where the rope tied you around the waist onto the bench and the flecks on your skin from the riding crop.

“I chose it, Benedict,” you remind, your jaw set defiantly, looking at the flames in the hearth.

“I know you did,” he placates, dropping a featherlight kiss onto your shoulder that makes your heart skip, “but you shouldn’t choose physical pain to alleviate your guilt. Especially not for me,” he adds.

Your eyes raise and dart to him. “That’s not….” Your words of protest die out, trapped by his hazy blue stare, heavy with something unspoken.

He’s right. 

You chose to let yourself be punished more harshly than ever because of how bad you feel for being torn between these two men—these two incredible but so different brothers.

Those gentle hands are at your stays, unwinding the lace through each hole. Intentionally slow, calming, letting you breathe and sigh and relax into the moment. Then when you sway backwards into him, he instantly pauses, and his lips land warm on your neck, sucking so attentively you moan, just soft heat and dampness. No force, no bite, just lucious sensation.

Your hand shoots back into his hair, scraping your nails over his scalp, revelling in the shiver you feel running through his body. You want to give him an indulgent sensual experience too. Your moan is gauzy as your eyes flutter shut, and you tilt your head, pushing your neck up into his mouth for more. He indulges it, warm wet lips kissing your pulse point, taking you to an almost trance-like state, pliant in his arms. 

“Darling, darling girl,” he whispers, then purses his lips and blows warm air over your skin, damp with his saliva, and you shiver from the tenderness. 

So slowly you barely feel it, he peels away your stays until you are topless. 

“Lay down,” he exhales, gesturing to a pile of oversized pillows gathered on the rug in front of the fireplace.

You sink onto them, their warmth from the fire and plush stuffing a wondrous place to be. You sigh deeply and look up at him as he gazes down at you. His eyes covetously roam your breasts.

“Roll over onto your front,” he asks quietly, and you do so, confused why he might want that. He drops to his knees and covers your body with his. You moan lightly as he drops a kiss on the inside of your left arm. He moves and does the same to your right arm. It’s then you realise he is kissing the spots where you have marks. 

Gently, his wet lips trace down over your shoulder to your mid back catching each mark there. You sigh, feeling yourself grow almost drowsy with the heat of the fire and his delicate damp lips. He shuffles lower and spends time mapping the line where the rope lashed you down. Bussing the abrasions softly, your eyes flutter closed, resting your cheek on your joined hands as he salves your skin. 

Time slows when he starts unlooping the tiny buttons at your hip for your silk underwear, carefully pulling the material over the swell of your bottom and slipping it down your legs. Hence, you are entirely naked save your stockings, held by ribbons tied just above your knees.

His name is a breathy sigh on your lips as his open mouth traces warm and wet over your bottom, damply kissing each mark. His tongue lathing gently, swirling motions designed to soothe. Moving down further to the back of your thighs, you start to quiver a little. Wondering if he will push your legs open and drink from your body the way you are desperate for him to do. He spends time kissing the sensitive spots on your inner thighs, his breathing a little ragged, and you know he can smell and see your arousal, your legs open as they are. But he does not touch you there. He crawls back up over your prone body, his voice suddenly right by your ear.

“Does that help, my sweet girl?” he inquires sotto voce, and you nod, floating on a cloud of lush sensation—his saliva drying in patches, evaporating in the warm room. “I want to make you feel so much better,” he intones the genial sincerity so beguiling.

“You have,” you assure, twisting to give him a gentle smile.

“Wait here, do not move an inch,” he advises, dropping a kiss on your temple before standing up and walking out of the room briskly.

You are momentarily confused but too drowsy to be concerned, just closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth and crackle of the fire next to you and the comfort and slight velvet tickle of the cushions under you. You hear him re-enter the room but just ghost a smile without reopening your eyes. He chuckles warmly, and you feel a dip in the cushions as he rejoins you.

“I would like to relieve your ache with a massage, my darling girl.”

“I've never had a massage before,” you answer honestly.

“I will pour oil on your skin and rub my hands over you,” he details, “it will make you feel blissful, I promise.”

“Then go ahead,” you smile, eyes still closed.

He hums, and then there is more movement. Suddenly two warm naked thighs straddle yours, the downy hairs tickling your skin, and your lips part in surprise.

“When did you get undressed, Mr Bridgerton?” 

“I came back into this room naked, but sadly you missed it,” he teases.

Your eyes fly open, and you twist to look at him over your shoulder. “I demand an encore. Get back out there and walk in again,” you order with a slanted pout.

He laughs loudly this time, a sparkly sheen of bemusement over his enlarged pupils. “Sorry, you missed the show. It was a one-time thing,” he peals lighthearted.

Something in the air feels so soft, so sweet, so safe that you feel a pang of yearning that perhaps this could be your life. Living in this lovely cosy townhouse with this caring man who, when you ask, will tie you to the bed and fuck you so hard you scream the house down… but will also do this. Kiss every inch of your skin better. Lay with you in easy loving intimacy.

“I could get used to this, Mr Bridgerton,” you sigh.

“This could be your life,” he responds liltingly, “please choose me.”

“Benedict….” you warn.

“I know, I know,” he exhales, a touch defeated. “I would indeed rather have a part of you than none at all,” he confesses as you feel him place a sheet down next to you, and he opens a small glass bottle.

The air fills with the comforting aroma of calendula and oil. “This herb is good for healing. A number of my friends swear by it for their boxing injuries,” he explains as he rubs the oil into his hands to warm it. “Lay flat,” he advises, and you twist back, arranging your hands under your forehead and closing your eyes.

He begins at your neck, running lines over the tension you carry there. You cannot stop the noise you make as his talented, strong fingers knead at the knots there until they relent. It feels blissful, and all the tension you have carried since Aburey Hall melts away. He moves to your left, then right shoulder and does the same; your whole upper back turns to putty in his arms. His name is a ragged sigh escaping your lips.

He huffs a laugh at your intoxicated state and continues, his hands working their magic. It feels like one hand could span your whole back as he splays his fingers wide and expertly assuages your aches. Mapping down your spine with the side of his hands with a pressure that makes you groan so loud, it sounds entirely wanton. 

“You make the most delightful noises,” he buzzes as he leans over you, his chest warm on your oiled back. 

“Please do not stop,” you slur, drowsy, floating, so relaxed and high on a sea of pleasant brain chemicals. 

“Do you want me to massage every inch of your body?” His voice is dark and sugary.

“Please…” 

An oiled hand slides heavy down your spine, mapping the dip of your waist, then crests over the slope of your bottom cheeks. It keeps going, trailing the cleft of your bum, and your breath catches as his fingers glide lower, between your thighs, over your folds, slick from an entirely different source.

“How about here?” He murmurs smokily. “Do you want me to massage here?”

“God, yes, yes,” you moan and push into his fingers that just rest lightly on your swollen clit, not moving.

“Mmm, I will,” he promises, but you whine as his fingers move away and sweep up the same path to your backbone.

“Don’t tease me,” your plea is a hushed thing as his hands squeeze your shoulders and run up your arms to your hands, where they rest under your chin.

He chuckles warmly, the noise low in his throat. “But it's one of life’s greatest pleasures,” he asserts, lacing his fingers with yours as again those lips are by your ear. “You so very needy and hungry for me is the best high there is,” he sighs, his teeth biting your earring and tugging gently. “I have plans to ensure you are floating on a cloud of wonderment before we…” he trails off with an uncharacteristic bashfulness.

“....fuck?” you supply.

“...make love,” he corrects. 

And something warm unfurls in your chest as he pulls up off your body, and those hands map your skin again, this time on your lumbar region, digging his thumbs in, to the point you cry out in relief and surprise. The unrealised tension you hold in your hips from being bent over that bench by Anthony seems to melt away as Benedict digs in and releases every knot you hold tight in your lower spine. The magic of his skilled hands has you docile and breathing slowly under his ministrations. Eyes closed and floating, just as he said. Your senses dialling back to a languid, almost tenuous hold on your surroundings, your experience rooted in your body and the newfound relaxation he brings to your being.

This time when his hand slips lower, you slowly suck in an anticipatory breath through your teeth that you do not release until his fingers swipe achingly light over your clit. You exhale raggedly as he finally takes pity on your weeping folds, and with a playful smirk you feel against your neck as he leans in to kiss there, he starts to circle your clit in a soft, expert tease.

You breathe his name, allowing him to fill your every thought, every fibre. Take over your body and direct it like a symphony, increasing the pressure of his touch and making you moan and bite down on your knuckles resting under your chin, pushing your pelvis into his hand.

“That is darling girl,” he encourages, his voice rich and resonant, seeming to vibrate through your very being.

“More,” you plead and grab the hand not between your legs, bringing it to your face and sliding your lips around two of his long, deft fingers, sucking them deep into your mouth, pulsing your tongue over the underside, tasting the massage oil and a flavour that is all him. It’s a catalyst that makes him groan and surge his naked body over you, all heated, toned flesh.

“Please,” your appeal garbled around his fingers that you suck as if it were his cock, deep pulls all the way down to his knuckles, and he growls and curls his fingers, hooking around the back of your lower teeth, his blunt nails digging into the sensitive flesh under your tongue. Something becomes more urgent between you as his rigid cock drags over your tailbone, his fingers curling around your clit more insistently as you instinctually spread your legs wider.

You whimper as he withdraws his fingers from between your legs and your mouth, and they crest your hip bones, painting your skin with your own arousal and saliva.

“Turn over, my girl,” he requests sotto voce, and you do so, rolling over so your oiled back is on the soft sheet he brought in. Your field of vision is filled with him—his face beaming down at you with a loving expression, his smooth chest and his skilled, soothing hands, which now move to cup your breasts as he settles between your legs, his cock brandishing your inner thigh. Greased fingers slide around your nipples, and you groan and push up, loving the slide and warmth.

“Kiss me,” he asks, his pupils blown and glittering, his lips an inviting sheen of pink.

Craning your head off the pillow to meet his lips, it's a tease for a few moments, and then you are hungrily devouring each other, tongues sweeping over one another, breathing shared air, swallowing the little noises you both make. As you kiss, your legs slip open wider until you feel him rocking the apex of your thighs, his public hair tickling your clit. The drawn-out tease makes your belly simmer with fire, ready to beg.

Then he is slipping down your body, his mouth hot and hungry on your nipples, making you pant and writhe as he uses an edge of teeth and then a swipe of tongue; a jolt right down to your clit. He moves lower; you know where he is headed, your clit pulsing and engorged as he heatedly glances up at you from your belly, a knowing crooked smile crowding over his handsome features.

When his nose trails into your thatch of hair and he inhales deeply, you can’t help clenching, your cunt so desperate for him, spellbound by his desire focussed so wholly on you. Almost aggressively, he manhandles your legs around his shoulders and, with no preamble, dives face-first into your folds, the noise and heat making you startle.

He has an almost vice-like grip on your thighs as his tongue parts your folds and unerringly finds your clit. He feasts on your body, even more than that night at Aubrey Hall when Anthony sat outside the room listening to you both. There was the frisson of being caught that gave that night an edge, but tonight feels different, more profound, and his efforts more meaningful but just as untamed. He gives long, languorous strokes with the flat of his tongue and sucks your labia into his mouth, tugging a fraction so you feel the pull in your throbbing clit. Then he spreads his mouth wide over that sensitive nub and sucks hard, a sudden stabbing sensation making your hands fly into his hair and push yourself into his face. 

He groans encouraging words, drinking from your body, swirling his tongue until he hits a spot that makes you squeak, your nails scraping hard on his scalp. His tongue rolls around in increasingly fervid motions, and you feel that hook deep inside, coiling for release, needing a little more to push you over. As if sensing it, he snarls and glances the edge of his teeth onto that most responsive pinpoint; you call out his name loudly, rapidly circling that pinnacle. 

“Please.” That one simple needy word from his lips has you undone.

A tide hitting you, that tension snapping inside. Strong waves emanate from your core, ecstasy racing through every inch of your body, your grip on his hair slackening as he drops gentle kisses onto your lower belly, making his way back up as your body shivers with aftershocks.

“Look into my eyes,” he implores quietly as he hovers over your face, your scent strong on his chin and lips.

You do, and while you are still fluttering from the orgasm, he slowly breaches your body, a solid mass stretching you open in that way that is so hypnotising. Your breath catches, and he growls as you pulsate around him. 

He utters a curse, dropping his head briefly. Then his head snaps back up, his gaze intense but full of something else, something fundamental, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat as he bottoms out inside you, letting out a shuddering breath before placing a doting kiss on the tip of your nose. 

“Tell me how you feel,” he hums over your cheekbone, his fingers trailing over your arms, shoulders, and neck, just holding still within you, letting you feel the way his cock holds you open, how you cling to him. 

“Wonderful,” you confess, your body thrumming and yet relaxed, all your muscles before so aching now revived and sated. 

With another kiss, he pulls back from within you and then pushes forward slowly, cupping your jaw, studying every inch of your face, watching your mouth form little noises as he takes you tenderly, slowly. He bends down and whispers inaudibly into your neck. It sounds like a foreign language, maybe French, but it’s so quiet under the crackle of the logs in the fire that you can’t decipher; you just let the sounds roll over you, into you, filling your heart. Distantly, you hear the patter of cleansing rain on the window behind the curtains, lending the room an even greater feeling of a haven, a cocoon from the outside world. 

Your body undulates under his as he takes more pronounced thrusts, building a slow but steady rhythm that feels carnal and ethereal, as if you are floating above yourself, being taken away on a wave of serenity. 

This isn't fucking; this is love-making. Something you have never really done before, something that feels too vulnerable and dangerous. But yet all you feel is safe and cared for, his eyes soft, his lips quirked in an affectionate smile. This is the succour your mind and body needed. To quell the turbulence and roiling guilt that has been clawing at your being. Torn between the man inside you now and his brother. So alike, so different, two sides of a coin you cannot choose heads or tails of. 

You push up into him, angling your pelvis so he hits a spot inside you that makes your eyes roll, and your mouth slacken, greedy for another high so soon. He kisses your lips, breathes your air, encourages you with mumbled words, moving to pepper little kisses over your cheeks, making your scalp tingle and ripples run down your limbs. Your hands run greedily over his flesh, mapping his back muscles, scraping your nails over the globe of his bottom, pressing your thumbs into his flesh, wordlessly asking for more. Always more.

He tilts and moves deep, a spear just the right side of painful, causing you to moan; there is a triumphant chuckle as he kisses your eyebrows. The easy intimacy of the moment is so enchanting and yet so visceral. Every sense heightened, every touch burning, as if he had taken ash from the fire and painted it over your skin. You plead with him, pulling your legs higher, wrapping around his hip bones, wanting him to be so deep inside you carry a physical reminder tomorrow. 

“My girl,” he whispers, the tone possessive and a hand slides between your head and the pillow, grasping and then twisting the hair at the nape of your neck between his strong fingers, a mild sting on your scalp as this take on a different more frenzied edge. You rasp his name, wanting nothing more right now than to be utterly owned by him under his thrall. 

“Bite me,” he begs, and you falter. “You heard me,” he gusts into your left ear, angling his neck by your mouth. “I marked you with my teeth, darling girl; it is only fair you do the same.”

Something about the nature of the offering, the way he sees you as an equal, makes you feral, and you pitch forward and sink your teeth into the sturdy column of his neck before you can even engage the higher logic part of your brain. He grunts and thrusts harder, hissing for you to take more, your teeth clamping down before backing off to lathe your tongue over the bite mark.

Pulling back and seeing the evidence of your mark on him makes you clench around his cock with such force he growls and begs you to do it again. You do, his cock feeling huge, steely, so invasive. He stills, buried to the root inside you, and shudders all over.

“I never want to be anywhere but right here,” he groans fervently, “inside you, please, god, please let me.” The tone tinged with desperation as he restarts, urgent, spiking, the hand in your hair tangled amongst the strands. And in this febrile moment, it’s what you want too—always to have him touching you somehow.

You cry out as his other hand slides heavily down your contours, and his fingers plough into your folds, finding your clit and spiralling you higher, his gaze burning you.

“Come apart for me again, please; I'm so close,” he confides, his hips slightly erratic.

It won't take much, your whole body in a tinder state, and he is quickly hurtling you towards a new peak, engulfing your senses, enclosing your body, feeling as if he is everywhere at once.

There are a few rapturous moments where your whole body tenses, circling that abyss, robbing your lungs of air, your eyes fluttering closed. Before one more nudge of his cock and fingers and you are tumbling, freefalling. Every synapse fires as your core clenches on him, squeezing so hard you distantly hear him making noises that are almost inhuman, and you cry out as he quickly withdraws from your body, still pulsing and wanting; he splashes his release over your thighs with a grunting shudder.

He collapses atop you, breathing heavily, and for a few moments, there is nothing but the sounds of your panting, the dying log on the fire and the steady drumbeat of rain outside. When he pulls up again, his mien is affectionate, untangling himself from you and arranging your bodies into a comfortable hold.

He grabs the corner of the sheet and dutifully cleanses your skin of his seed, kissing your temple, staring at you with a reverence that feels almost too claustrophobic now the maelstrom of desire has passed. You bite your lip, and in the rush of chemicals in your bloodstream, you are suddenly overwhelmed. By his devotion, by the magnitude of what you feel for him and for Anthony.

“This is impossible,” you lament, fiercely willing the tears welling in your eyes not to fall. He knows precisely what you are referring to without you having to say it. He twists you in his arms so you lay atop him.

“I never want you to be in turmoil because of me,” Benedict says, his eyes clouding with emotion. He grabs your hands and kisses the back of your knuckles with a hot press of his lips. “If it means you have peace, I will desist. Step away,” he offers chivalrously. “I will always, always hold what we have dear, but I cannot be a source of distress to you.”

Your stomach lurches at the thought of not being with him. 

“No, Benedict!” it’s a gut reaction from deep inside, a swoop in your stomach that feels like you are falling. “Please, do not. I….” words seem to fail on your tongue. “Just do not…,” you hiss. “You deserve me as much as your brother does. Fight for me,” you implore, knowing it is twisted to ask him to do this, to fight for you when you don't even know who to choose.

You swallow thickly as he looks at you through his lashes.

“I can picture it,” you say quietly, determined. “A life with you. Here, in this house. It’s wonderful, Benedict,” you answer honestly.

His eyes go soft and glassy, and you kiss his knuckles, echoing his gesture. And there is something bubbling up inside of you that feels decisive when….

There is a crash as the drawing-room door swings violently open.

And the bottom falls out of your world.

Anthony.

He stands in the doorway, his whole frame quaking, rain dripping from his jacket and the curls over his forehead.

Benedict startles and quickly grabs your chemise and his trousers, trying to conceal you both with the sheet the best he can. But it’s a pointless endeavour. It’s so very obvious what you have been doing, naked and entwined as you were on a pile of cushions in front of a fireplace with now glowing embers.

Anthony doesn’t say a word but strides into the room, breathing raggedly. As he draws closer, you see his face pinched, and his whole frame fizzles and crackles with energy. But it's not anger. It's something else, a nervousness that is verging on frantic.

“Don't,” his word is gruff and pained, screwing his eyes shut.

“Anthony,” you breathe.

“Please… don't… don't choose him,” he swallows and reopens his eyes. They are beseeching and desperate. “I’m not angry,” he adds, holding up a hand as if to explain, “I just… need you not to choose him.” You see the shake in his fingers as he lowers his hand. The hurt on his face makes your chest heave.

You hang your head as Benedict is silent next to you. Almost an equal in your shame. It was he who tempted you away from his brother in the first place; you can practically feel the guilt hanging heavily around his frame. In the silence, you quickly pull on your chemise and climb to your feet as Benedict pulls on his trousers and stays seated, curling in on himself, not looking up.

“This was tenderness, wasn’t it?” Anthony gestures to where you were lying, accurately surmising what happened from the surroundings and pacing slightly.

“Yes,” you whisper, almost ashamed, rooted to the spot.

“You… you never let me try that,” he utters; there is a world of hurt in that small voice, and he stops moving.

“I… I did not think you wanted to,” you decry, feeling a whiplash of confusion in your ribs. Anthony and lovemaking is not something you have ever considered; your dynamic always so much edgier, meeting your wilder needs.

“I believed I did not… until you,” those last two words whispered and lingering. “So much about you confounds me. Every time we are together, I’m left wanting more. Yearning for things I- I never thought I would. And now it feels like you are being stolen away…,” his Adam's Apple bobs hard. “I knew you would bond… with him. It’s why I begged you not to seek him out. I see your similarities… but… sometimes in life, we need someone different from ourselves. To be with someone who challenges us; that is a better balm for our souls. And so…”

The world seems to go into slow motion as Anthony drops to a knee before you.

“I want to humbly offer you me, my world,” you inhale a shocked gasp as he holds out a ring box. “Y/n, please be my wife?”

At your side, Benedict makes a forlorn noise, and he slides around in front of you on both of his knees.

“You asked me to fight for you, and by god, I will,” his pained appeal makes the ache in your chest spread wider, deeper. “I have no ring to offer you. I cannot offer you jewels and titles,” he winces slightly as he says it. “But I can offer you me and… and freedom. To pursue what you want in life, with me, as an equal, with no titles to burden you. All I can offer you is all we have experienced together. And my love. All my love. Always.” He holds up his hands almost in prayer and peers at you through heavy lashes, pleading his case.

“Titles are only a burden if you see them as such,” Anthony argues impassioned, his knuckles turning white as he grips the ring box. “As Viscountess, the world would be your oyster. And you deserve the world, y/n.”

“On that last point, I can agree; you do deserve the world” Benedict concedes.

Them steadfastly looking only at you but acknowledging each other’s points adds a weighted poignancy to the moment that almost hurts. Your head whips between the two. Both of these brothers, on their knees before you, their declarations sincere, their hearts on their sleeves. And yours beating wildly and torn in two different directions. An impossible conundrum. The very best and worse double bind.

You have no idea what on earth to do.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms

Anthony taglist who may be interested in the last few paragraphs lol: @queenofmean14 @elizah99 @debheart @amanda08319

[allwaswell16]

This is a fic rec of One Direction marking fics where a character is marked in some way by another character (drawing, tattoos, bites, etc) as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

🖊️ got the sunshine on my shoulders by @hattalove

(E, 124k, drawing) five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

🖊️ 2012 'Verse (series) by @ashavahishta

(E, 102k, marking) Louis would be embarrassed by how his voice goes all low and husky, but it’s no secret between the two of them that he likes to leave marks.

🖊️ Until I Found You by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes

(E, 45k, love bites) What happens when the opportunity that Louis has been waiting for finally comes, but at the price of having to share the stage with one Harry Styles?

🖊️ through walls of trees by @ineverateakiwi

(T, 41k, bond mark) Elesdon is a country divided into five kingdoms and had long been considered peaceful. After a coup in the heart of the country, Lady Sulia ascended to the throne and imprisoned the four courts, stripping them of their powers. With the exception of King Louis Tomlinson, who submitted to her favors.

🖊️ little wings on my shoes by @juliusschmidt

(M, 39k, love bites) The American High School AU in which no one is cool (except Niall) and Harry wears a rainbow bracelet.

🖊️ some things fade (some never do) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 25k, magical tattoos) Three years after their break up, Harry calls.

🖊️ It's Been Ages by @2tiedships2

(NR, 13k, love bites) “We need to talk,” Niall said as he plopped down on Louis’ bed. “It’s you and Harry. You like him, he likes you, it’s a match made in heaven and you will one day be mates."

🖊️ where your lips land by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite

(E, 12k, drawing & tattoos) the Tyler Knott Gregson-inspired AU where Louis is a poet who lives in Montana and Harry is a photographer passing through.

🖊️ Just a touch of your love by @thegirlontheblackhoodie

(E, 12k, love bites) Harry is a touch starved omega trying to get through it on his own. Louis happens to be the only alpha around to realize it and offers to help.

🖊️ See You When I Get Home by @fournipplesau

(E, 10k, love bites) "What are you thinking about?" He repeats Louis' question from earlier. "You." Louis' reply comes out in a moan. It shocks Harry, and his brain scrambles for the right thing to do, the right thing to say. He doesn't even know how to feel, or if he even heard Louis correctly. "Me?"

🖊️ Drawn to You by @lululawrence

(NR, 8k, soulmarks) Through the years, the random drawings had evolved and changed. There was a period in sixth form when his soulmate must have gotten shy or something, because the drawings only happened after school hours and in places that others wouldn’t be as likely to see.

🖊️ don't let nobody touch it (unless that somebody's me) by stylescantstop

(E, 8k, love bites) the one where harry dances with other men and a jealous louis reminds him he's the only one who can make him come completely apart.

🖊️ You can remain unaware (if you want) by harryanthus

(NR, 7k, soulmarks) the au where soul marks get coloured when they realise they’re in love with their soul mate and Harry has a coloured soul mark, Louis doesn’t.

🖊️ Sex Drunk Suckerpunch by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 7k, marking) Sugar Baby Louis did what any sugar baby should avoid doing but (clichely) end up doing anyways, that is, failing for his sugar mama.

🖊️ Hello Darling by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche

(E, 5k, love bites) A city wide blizzard warning, a power outage, and a dismal lack of tea leaves him hours away from what he expects to be one of the more pathetic Christmas mornings of his life. That is, until the new bright eyed intern scares the living crap out of him.

🖊️ Now When I Think of Love it's Redefined by Moriartied / @adidasandangelwings

(E, 3k, marking) The love story of Harry and Louis. (From the XFactor up through their first big fight.) Part 4 of Group Dynamics

🖊️ can't stop lookin' at you by runaways

(E, 2k, love bites) Harry wears little red shorts. Louis is quite fond of them.

- Rare Pairs -

🖊️ Make Your Mark by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 3k, Liam/Louis) When one of Liam's classmates isn't getting the hint that he's not interested, Louis suggests they make him look unavailable.

[24kmagiic]

I've been reading your fics for years and I gotta say I love how you write Bonnie. She's so fierce. How do you think Bonnie being with Klaus would influence her personality/character in canon?

First of all, thank you! I’m so happy you found joy in my fics and hope to continue them all. My musings for Bonnie have been so fickle recently.

So! To answer your question, I think being with Klaus would allow Bonnie to “unmask”. So much of her character has been suppressed so her true personality is sort of a mystery. We draw conclusions but what is actually canon? Bonnie went from being a quirky "mean/party girl" to being an uptight recluse in a span of five episodes so which one is the truth? In the first three episodes, she seemed fun, slightly immature, and dismissive of anything 'deep' and then she became a broody 'bitch' who's morally sound and incorruptible. I don't think that happens overnight with the discovery of the supernatural world but that's how they portrayed her because they didn't give a damn about her development. OR it could be that they changed the progression of her character at the last minute and didn't think anyone would notice. I did.

Klaus wouldn’t necessarily turn her into a “villain” as we love to fantasize, but by Bonnie suddenly creating and enforcing boundaries, along with an unwillingness to put on the brave front she usually does, it would feel (to them) like disrespect and they'd 1000% make her out to be villainous.

I think the box she’s been placed into would shatter and Bonnie would be faced with the fact that yes, she has simply been tolerated all these years by the only friends she’s ever known. I think this would cause her to lean on Klaus heavily and we may even see her codependency shift from Elena to him. Let’s face it, our girl is seriously co-dependent. Klaus would of course benefit from her codependency but it'd probably skeeve him out because as clingy a Klaus can be, I feel like he despises clinginess. He gives off Cancerian energy and, as a fellow cancer, I can attest to this. We can be clingy but you can't because, ew.

That said, Bonnie's codependency wouldn't look like what you'd normally expect when you think of your local co-dependent idiots. It's not following him around everywhere and doing everything he says.

It's harming herself for his benefit.

In the same way she was so eager to die for Elena, she'd try to do the same for Klaus except he would not allow it.

Bonnie sees NO value in her presence in other's lives. It's why she's so gungho to sign up for martyrdom. But not because she actually thinks that the world would be better with them in it. It's because she can't bear the thought of surviving without them.

Because in WHAT world do we benefit from Elena over Bonnie? Or Klaus over Bonnie? NONE. And if she digs deep, Bonnie knows that. But in HER world, they have to outlive her because she can't handle losing yet another person.

So on to the driving force behind her co-dependency. Abandonment and therefore, Abby and Rudy, and let's face it, Sheila. This girl has been abandoned three times in three different ways.

Before you hang me out to dry, forget I mentioned grams because I know you're chomping at the bits to correct me.

Abby represents physical abandonment and so does Rudy. The fact that you'd just up and leave your only child is beyond my comprehension but we've already beaten that dead horse so let's move straight into Rudy, the other dead horse.

While he was physically present some of the time, he was still gone a lot and did the bare minimum when it comes to children. Food, clothes, and shelter. Emotionally, he was completely gone. Showing up at the high school graduation after the hard work is over is such deadbeat behavior but again, the horse is dead, no need to whack it.

Now, take a deep breath and think about how I'm about to chop Sheila's ass up real quick.

This type of abandonment, I don't have a label for but it's so unique to Bonnie as a character that maybe by the end of it, I'll coin a catchy phrase.

Bonnie mentioned that Sheila was a drunk (even though the writers abandoned that idea) but let's go with it. As a product of TWO alcoholic parents, (who both came from alcoholic parents) I can attest that there is a unique form of abandonment that borders emotional, physical, and mental neglect.

Sheila had 16 years to help Bonnie wield her magic and defend herself against the great evils out there and instead, she chose to get drunk and 'ramble' about the occult. WHO is going to take a drunk person seriously about any of that? Family or not, ain't a soul out there that'll believe anything you say when you can't control your intake. It sounds like everything Bonnie knew, she had to piece together from the tidbits Sheila bothered to mention.

She left her granddaughter utterly defenseless and yeah, you can argue that she was following Rudy's wishes but guess what. RUDY WAS NEVER THERE! He left Bonnie in Sheila's care so if Sheila decided to teach her granddaughter magic, then what the hell was he going to do about it? Stay home?

I think Sheila used that as an excuse to shy away from the deeper issue which is her ultimately losing her own daughter to magic because Sheila never saw Abby again after she left Mystic Falls and I can imagine how painful that must have been but knowing the evils out there, it was completely neglectful to leave Bonnie defenseless.

Humans always operate in extremes. They go from one extreme to the next without ever addressing the root cause. Both Rudy and Sheila felt like they failed when it came to their relationship with Abby so they did the COMPLETE opposite with Bonnie and in turn, created a whole new network of problems. They are the root cause of our self-sacrificing, co-dependent queen because they were so focused on Abby that they never once considered Bonnie.

I tend to be long-winded as hell, my apologies. You're probably wondering, 'Well, what does all this have to do with Klonnie?' Well, I needed to explain my view of Bonnie before I could get into how I think her being with Klaus would affect her personality and character.

For the first time in her life, Bonnie would actually be considered. As boneheaded and selfish as Klaus is, when he's in love, he is surprisingly considerate and while all we truly got from him in canon was heavy admiration (cause he ain't love them hoes), it was a nice glimpse into what could have been for him.

Let's use his relationship with Hope when we reference Love.

First, let me say that the writers did a terrible disservice of having him abandon Hope for all them years but when he was there, he always looked out for her best interest. When Freya entertained the thought of Hope binding her wolf as Klaus's mother did to him, we got to see him fight for her even if Hope herself thought that's what she wanted. Klaus uniquely understood what that would do to Hope and did everything in his power to prevent it, including threatening to dispatch his own family.

As for Bonnie, no one understands abandonment on that show like Klaus Mikaelson and he would instantly catch on to Bonnie's toxic behavior pattern. He'd see right through the lies she'd weave and while it may have worked on Gilbert the Younger, it ain't fidna fly with Bad Ass Mikaelson, the man who carried his family around in coffins because they threatened to leave him or jeopardize their relationship.

The two of them are two sides of the same coin. Where Bonnie internalizes her abandonment issues, Klaus externalizes his. While Bonnie has an "I'd rather die young than live my life without you" approach to love; Klaus has an "I'll kill you and every mf in here before I let you go"' approach.

It'd be a very toxic paring at first but once they 'healed', they'd work so well because each of them has a love that the other has been looking for. Bonnie has been waiting for someone to fight for her whether she knows it or not. She wouldn't know how to handle it at first because it's too much and very dangerous but deep down, she'd feel relieved to finally know what it's like to be fought for. As for Klaus, he's been waiting for someone to give up everything to be devoted to him because in the past, people so easily discarded him to go after what they wanted and it was never him. He's always left behind in the grand scheme of others. Rebekah easily discards him for love. His mother bound him with a spell to hide her own transgressions, Elijah, though loyal, was always at risk of falling in love and detaching himself from Klaus and the threat alone was enough to drive Klaus to commit the most grisly murders.

So, again, to answer your question, simply put, I think they'd bring out the absolute worst in one another at first but not in the ways you'd expect. Like I said earlier, Klaus would force Bonnie to work on her boundaries in general because he's notorious for overstepping boundaries and he's the perfect punching bag to practice on. But once they got over the initial shock of one another and realized that they both (essentially) want the same things from one another, they'd mellow out.

I hope that somewhat answers your question. If you have any follow-up questions, please submit them because I definitely cut myself short for the sake of "brevity" lol.

[andrea-lyn]

The Raven Cycle - Master Fic Rec Post

See under the cut for fifteen total recs, mostly Pynch. There's also 10 additional in the "Recs Less Travelled" project here.

and on the seventh day he rested by Prevalent_Masters

On the seventh day, the Lynch brothers discovered they were friends once more.

Or, the week following the (near) apocalypse.

cool of your hand, back of my neck by grandfather_clock

Adam Parrish has been dumped for the second time ever. Ronan Lynch is a gleeful, weirdly invested observer. They drive around all night long. featuring: teenagers pretending they aren’t in love, shouting over loud music, minor arson, major arson, ronan lynch’s hand fixation, and an unfortunate amount of kiting.

getting swept away by sunmoontruth

“So. Your page. Your knight. Two different people, yes?” the psychic guesses—intuits. She points to each of the tarot cards: a girl with a golden cup, a boy with a golden cup. “Yes,” Gansey says. “But similar feelings,” the psychic says, mostly to herself. She opens her mouth. She closes her mouth. She instructs, “Last card.” Gansey draws. Death. Reversed. — Or a cross country road-trip, developing feelings, and the end of the world

god only knows (what i'd be without you) by RhymeReason

[Part of Gansey was starting to accept that two of his best friends were most likely dead.]

Or: gansey finds adam and ronan :)

hold me tight, fear me not by audikatia for Northisnotup

When Adam stepped around, he found himself suddenly in an emerald glen of moss-covered trees. More blue roses scattered over the green ground like raindrops or tears.

And there, in the center, was a man pinned to a tree with an arrow through his heart. :: Tam Lin AU

i should have loved a thunderbird instead by ssstrychnine

persephone leaves adam three things: her tarot cards, her voice, and a phone from 2003.

I Worship You, Your Fingers Snag My Soul by sherasaidgaywrites

He breathed into Adam’s mouth, his voice different, somehow; filled with meaning: “Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” He did his smoker’s breath, his fingertips a whisper on nerves. “His name was Adam.” And, oh, that was so fitting. What was Adam if not a man built from the dust? - Ronan does some contemplation during mass and then comes home to his second object of worship. He likens Adam unto God’s creations, Adam likens him unto God.

if, if, if by writerforlife

Declan decides it’s about time he and Adam Parrish have a chat.

like a secret (like an oath) by demigodbeautiies

“You know Richard Gansey well enough to be invited to his wedding,” Adam says, and it isn’t quite a question. Then he shakes his head, like he’s clearing it of a much bigger piece of debris, and says, “You’re the best man at his wedding?” - Pynch Fake Dating AU

Night Owls by aceofreaders (Kickasscookieeater)

Adam Parrish has worked at The Night Owl since the end of his college freshman year. It's named so because it's open late, which suits Adam just fine because no one ever comes in during those last hours before 12am.

Except, then someone does.

A foul mouthed, viciously handsome someone, who brings a slow rolling storm of change into Adam's steady life. And when he does, Adam won't be able to lie anymore.

since you've been home, see what you have become by Mici (noharlembeat)

Adam goes touring colleges, and Ronan comes along. And Opal, well. She stays with Declan.

Someone Worth Knowing by SprigsofViolets

Alex Claremont-Diaz and Adam Parrish meet on their first day at NYU. They do not hit it off—cue the academic rivalry. They hate each other until they learn to understand each other.

(I can’t tell you how many times I’ve re-read this one, esp as it hits two of my fave canons in all the right places)

There's No Place Like My Room by Lil_Redhead

Sometimes endings are endings, but sometimes they’re just middles and the real ending is very, very far away.

Or, the days between the last chapters and the epilogue of Greywaren

Time Isn’t Real (but you’re a constant) by SpiritsFlame

“Time is what prevents everything from happening at once.” - Albert Einstein. Adam wakes up in the future, learns a few things about himself, about time, and about his priorities. But mostly he just wishes that Time was doing it’s job better.

(you told me) this is right where it begins by starsandgutters

The aftermath of dealing with the demon leaves behind a wake of emotional debris they were not – couldn’t have been – fully prepared to tackle. They all have a lot on their plate: assessing the damage, picking up the broken pieces, allowing the wounds to scar over. And, of course, there’s the matter of Adam-and-Ronan. (Or: falling in love doesn’t magically fix all problems, but maybe that’s alright.)

And a blanket rec for pretty much anything shinealightonme has written for the fandom.