#i have to make jokes about it to make it less scary but the good news is my doctor said its not cancer so!

[fakeagatha]

Mrs Fletcher | Prof!Eve Fletcher x Fem!Reader | Chapter Six: Sore Tongue

Summary: Eve shows up to the university with an unexpected change.

A/N: This is probably the longest chapter I've written so far, even though the word count isn't that high. I'm quite proud of myself for posting another chapter so soon after chapter five! Anyway, please enjoy.

Warnings: Implied NSFW, Needles?, Alcohol

Word Count: 2022

AAA Community

Divine Headcanon Generator

Two days after your "date" with Eve, Monday had made its return and you were heading to leave for class. You didn't feel like it, but honestly, you never do. Checking through some of your books, double checking that your diary was on your desk where it should be, you zipped up your bag and grabbed a couple of pens from your desk.

You felt lucky having a single dorm. It could occasionally get lonely, but at the same time, you were free. You could do whatever you wanted without being watched over, and decorated how you wished, hence to why you had a section of your wall dedicated to pictures. You would stand there and look at them often. Your parents, some pictures with Steve, some of your cousins, but you would linger on a picture of you and your ex girlfriend in the middle, Haley, in the dorm you shared in college. You wanted to forget about her, maybe to feel less guilty about everything, but it wasn't easy.

You shook your head, and left the room, walking to your first class: Latin, an extra class you had chosen to take. It wasn't too far from the dorms, luckily enough. As you entered the floor the class was on, Mrs Fletcher suddenly bumped into you as she was coming out from one of the staff bathrooms.

"Mrs Fletcher! Good morning, sorry for bumping into you." You chuckled, looking up at her, wearing that cute pair of glasses you thought suited her face perfectly.

"Hey Y/N," She replied, and her voice sounded a bit strange. As you spoke, you noticed something. You weren't trying to be creepy by taking a glance into her mouth, you just noticed it from the corner of your eye. Your eyes quickly darted back down to look at her mouth once again just before she managed to close it, trying to confirm what you thought you had just noticed. And it fucking was.

"Mrs Fletcher, what's that?"

Her eyes widened, "No'hing?"

"... No way." You gasped. "Mrs Fletcher, open your mouth."

Eve tilted her head downwards, trying to block your view, "Why?"

"You aren't fooling me!"

Eve couldn't help but smirk at you, looking away sheepishly at having been caught.

"You got a fucking tongue piercing."

Eve laughed a little, "hey, 'anguage!" She warned, playfully sticking out her slightly redder and swollen tongue, with a long silver bar. "I got a 'ittle 'ealous of your eye'row." She pointed to your piercing, which you actually forget is there because of how long you've had it. "I wa' fee'ing... rebe'ious. Go' i' done after our coffee. I wa' very swollen yester'ay, I'm jus' surprised I 'an speak a'ready!"

You couldn't help but smile like an idiot, who would've thought that your 45 year old professor would get a tongue piercing, of all things?

"Speak? I'm only just barely understanding you miss. How are you going to teach your classes?" You chuckle, "Are you even allowed to have a tongue piercing?"

Eve grinned, clanking the jewelry against the back of her teeth, "I don' know, an' proba'y not.

"Is that why you said you had somewhere to be on Saturday? You realized you were going to be late for your appointment?" You giggled, looking at her in amusement every time she spoke.

"Yah! I go' there late!" She exclaimed, making you laugh again, a sound Eve actually loved hearing. "I' was very scary, I don' like need'es."

You bit your lip, "That looks so painful though, I didn't take you for someone to do through with a tongue piercing." You joked, making Eve chuckle and nod in response.

As Eve tried to ramble on about how nervous she was, almost oversharing the nervous poop she had beforehand, you cut her off, "I don't want you to irritate it, why don't you tell me all about it tomorrow so you don't accidentally hurt yourself?" You offered, and Eve couldn't help but blush at your consideration. She nodded, poking her tongue out one final time before heading down the hallway.

Well, that just might have been the hottest thing you had seen in a while, and certainly NOT what you expected at 9am on a Monday morning.

Steve sneaked up behind you, attempting to scare you as if you hadn't already noticed him. He frowned in disappointment, and you put your finger to your lips.

"Don't go telling everyone but... If you, hypothetically, had to guess where Mrs Fletcher would choose to get a piercing, where do you think it would be?"

He looked at you in confusion, before smirking. "Definitely, her ni-"

"Don't."

"Fine. I don't know, her nostril or something?" He shrugged, and you shook your head.

"Tongue."

"Ouch, but-" His eyes widened in realization, looking at you for confirmation, "She didn't, there's no way, you're pranking me. I don't know why you'd choose that for a prank, it's a little weird-"

"Steve, I'm not joking."

He looked at you in silence, almost as if contemplating whether to believe you or not. "For real?"

"For real."

He started to laugh, and you joined in. It was so random, and any other person wouldn't believe you. Everyone knows that Mrs Fletcher is innocent (on the outside), and no one would imagine, not even in one hundred years, that she would do something so insane as a tongue piercing, especially since she once shared with one of her classes that she cried at 38 years old because she had to have blood drawn.

"Okay, I got to get to class, we'll talk later." You waved goodbye, and Steve headed into the opposite direction.

The rest of your classes went by pretty smoothly. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, which was unusual. Normally you have to deal with at least one snarky comment or insult a day, whether it be from a classmate, or Mrs Evanora. Before leaving, you popped your head into Eve's open office door.

"See you tomorrow, Mrs Fletcher." You smiled, and she gave you a kind wave, indicating she probably couldn't really speak.

Eve finished her own work about an hour later, and took the drive back to her house, the thought of her bed being very irresistible.

She pulled up outside, and took a few minutes to water her flowers, admiring the rose bush that had started to bloom. She went inside and quickly replaced her work heels with a pair of slippers that were way too big for her.

She made her way to the bathroom, and swished some cold water through her mouth to soothe her tongue, unable to stop checking herself out in the mirror every now and then, making ridiculous poses, fantasizing herself as a tongue model. Wait, did those even exist?

She quickly changed into a gray tank top with some shorts, and got into bed. She opened up her laptop, and couldn't resist browsing online, looking at some things she probably wouldn't want anyone to know she was watching.

Sleep eventually overtook her, as she went into a slumber she so desperately needed, even though her day wasn't as tiring as it sometimes was. And, as if no time at all had passed, she woke up to her alarm blaring into her eardrums.

17:56

'How and when did two hours pass?'

Testing her speech, Eve found herself being able to talk again, to a comprehensible point at least, so after a brief phone call and her voice still groggy, she changed into a bikini with a plain black dress on top to head over to Amanda's house to relax in her jacuzzi for the evening.

Even at the last minute, Amanda was rarely busy in the evenings and was always open to a meet up, even if it's just for a chat. Eve doesn't understand how she does it, but she admires it, a little jealous of her social battery and availability, even.

It was already dark out as she stepped into her car, regretting not taking a jacket beforehand even though it wasn't that cold, but she really couldn't be bothered to go back inside to get one. She started the engine and turned up the heat a little bit, just to warm up the vehicle.

The drive to Amanda's was only around ten minutes, since she didn't live too far away from Eve, making it convenient to have wine nights together. She knocked on the door, pulling her friend into a hug upon greeting each other.

"Come in, mind turning on the jacuzzi? I'll bring us some wine." Amanda grinned, heading into the kitchen. Eve nodded, walking to the balcony window and stepping into Amanda's back yard. Despite the fact that the woman lived alone, her house was quite big, hence the big outdoor space.

Eve looked towards the side of the jacuzzi, and turned it on, watching as the bubbles began to form. She stripped herself from her dress and took off her heels, stepping into the warm bubbly water, letting out a sigh at the warmth which replaced the cold evening air on her skin.

Amanda came outside a few moments later, a bottle of wine, two glasses and a bowl of Cheez Its in her hands. Eve quickly stepped back out to help her, "You're going to drop something!" She mused.

"I don't like having to take multiple trips. If my hands can carry them, I carry them." Amanda replied, smirking, and Eve rolled her eyes as she helped her place everything onto the the jacuzzi wall.

They stepped back in together, and Amanda made a similar sound of pleasure at the warm water.

Anything new at the senior home?" She inquired, and Amanda shrugged,

"Poor Shirley had a fall, which startled Brenda so much she had a heart attack." Amanda sighed, looking almost unfazed.

"That's..." Eve froze, looking up at her friend with wide eyes, "Tragic?"

Amanda laughed, nodding, swaying her hand through the water.

"Why don't you come work full time at the university instead? If you'd prefer?" Eve suggested, sliding over to sit next to her.

"I don't think I'd work full time stocking up the library, the old people are way more interesting. Unless it completely shuts down, I'll stick with part time at the uni." She she shrugged, and the woman next to her nodded in understanding. "Besides, what's going on with that teacher's pet of yours?" Amanda teased, and Eve shoved her.

"Don't say that." She laughed, "But... She might have treated me to a coffee, or well, tried to. I paid for her when she wasn't looking."

Amanda's jaw dropped, setting her wine glass down to cover her mouth. "What?!" 

Eve nodded, giggling. "Yeah, I was there with some coworkers and she was having lunch with her friend behind us, and as I was about to leave, she asked me to stay for another drink." She explained further, making Amanda look even more excited with every word.

"Are you living in a book or something?" 

"I think I might be."

Amanda smirked at her, moving her arms to rest them on the wall, before wincing.

 "Ugh, my hand is still bruised because of you." She groaned, and Eve put her own hands up in defense.

"Hey, you offered!"

"Yeah, to distract you from the pain, you started squeezing the life out of my hand before the needle even reached you!"

"Okay but still, it was so worth it." Eve stuck her tongue out for emphasis, showing off the jewelry.

"The swelling has gone down so much!" Amanda exclaimed in surprise, making Eve nod excitedly.

"Yeah, before you know it, I can change it to that vibrating jewelry I found on Etsy last week-"

"Eve!"

"Sorry!"

Amanda shook her head, sighing, "What did she think of it?"

Eve's cheeks reddened, giving her a smirk. "Oh, she noticed immediately. Before anyone else did. I know I shouldn't have it in the working environment, so I am a little worried now..."

Amanda clicked her tongue, looking towards Eve's mouth again, "Well, if anyone calls you out, say they're a pervert for looking there."

"At my tongue?" She laughed, and the other woman nodded.

"Yes!"

Eve rolled her eyes at her antics, listening as she randomly began to talk about some of the trash she had to clean up at the university library, even though it wasn't part of her job. The night went on, and it didn't take long for the pair of them to become tipsy on a single bottle of wine.

[simelune]

in other news, i recently got a bone marrow biopsy and got diagnosed with MPD !!!!!! so i've been trying to find ways to distract myself until my appointment in november to find out what we do now !!

[lucydacusgirl]

Btw if you’re weird about cyclists I will block with abandon unless it’s funny enough. In places with the infrastructure to support cycling and places with decent public transport there need to be less cars on the road. I’m not even saying no cars but dramatically less. For the climate and for air quality and for safety. It’s cars that make roads dangerous for everyone not cyclists.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ under your roof ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ your baby daughter really likes uncle wade’s roommate, and logan would be lying if he said he didn’t form a quick attachment to the two of you as well┊2.9k words; prt one (here), prt two, prt three coming soon!!

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: probably occ logan, he’s on his best behavior, mostly fluff with a little side of angst, single mother reader with an unspecified age, this chapter is mainly between logan & your daughter, reader has a bad relationship with the father & he’s an asshole, one joking threat of stabbing

➤ author's note: this was so much fun to write! single mom reader and her daughter are so lovely and i have two more part featuring these two and logan coming up! i hope you guys enjoy

kids don’t like logan. it’s not a profound discovery nor is it a surprise to anyone who learns this fact. he’s intimidating enough to make some full-grown men piss themselves with so much as a glare, much less little babies who start sobbing uncontrollably when they see a giant scary man walking around believing that he would eat them or something even though he’s literally just standing there. whether the little ones have an instinct that signals him out as a mutant or he simply looks like a bad man from one of their fairy tales, he isn’t sure, but it’s not the best feeling either way when he’s trying to settle back into normal life with the constant weight of knowing that he’ll never fit in.

it doesn’t help that, in general, he isn’t good with kids either. he’s generally patient with their immaturity since they don’t know any better, but he finds the crying and whining extremely headache-inducing to his sensitive senses without a clue how to calm them down.

moving in with wade and acquainting himself with his friends was a start, but the missing part of his life to make him finally feel loved and at home was the family of two who lived downstairs. the first time he met you was also the first time he met your daughter when wade told him to dress a little nicer because the two of them were invited to your place for dinner. he explained that the two of you were practically siblings and that it would probably be something he should get used to, reminding him to “turn that frown upside down” because he was about to meet someone who “puts gordon ramsey to shame.”

the last bit sounded great to him, especially because no one in their household knew how to make anything more complicated than noodles without setting it on fire and the cost of outside food was really starting to tally up. still, he just wore some cargo pants and threw on a leather jacket, running his fingers through his hair once which was already a lot more effort than he’s ever put into meeting anyone else before.

wade didn’t even bother knocking, just being himself and picking the lock as he so typically does, kicking the door open and yelling a loud ass “daddy’s home!” which echoed throughout the apartment as well as the hallway they were standing in. the mouth-watering smell of grilled salmon filled the air, making wade hum in excitement, “do you need help with anything? taste testing, perhaps?”

“no, do me a favor and stay away from the kitchen!” your voice rang out loud and clear, sounding much like a mother scolding a teenager for the thousandth time. “i’ll stab you, do me a favor and just hang out in the living room.”

“okie-dokie!” he responded in an annoying sing-song voice, “come on, peanut, take off your shoes.” the said man could already tell how at home his roommate seemed in this place, just as comfortable as he was back home, walking with steps he’s taken many times before and prompting logan to do the same (except he was mainly keeping to himself and being much more mild-mannered in this unfamiliar area).

the place was as spacious as the small area could be and tastefully decorated, but all sharp corners of furniture were taped over to dull the edges and the carpet had multiple kinds of colorful toys littered about. in the center of it all, was a little toddler about two or three years old, playing with a kitchen set and trying to copy what her mom was doing by running back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. she didn’t even notice the two men at first, not until wade called out her name and she dropped the plastic utensils to clap her hands together before waddling over to him.

“hey, baby! how are you doing? did you miss me?” he cooed in the high-pitched voice reserved only for mary puppins, reaching down to pick up the girl by her underarms and kissing her cheek, spinning around with her in his arms as she giggled uncontrollably. “do you wanna meet the big scary wolverine while i go bother your mommy? who am i kidding, of course you do!” he then dropped her onto the couch, making sure that she didn’t bounce up too high on the cushion and hurt herself. “okay, you keep her company while i go see what’s for dessert— bye!”

before logan could say anything, he was already gone, disappearing around the corner into the sound of sizzling foods and the scent of herbs. pursing his lips together and shuffling his feet around for a second, he grunted and braced himself for the child to start sobbing uncontrollably because she was left alone with him. the first time he meets you, whom he’s heard so many good things about, is going to be when you have to kick him out with his tail in between his legs for disturbing the peace of your home.

but the cries never came, and his eyes met her big curious ones as she just stared up at him in silence. it was honestly a tad bit unnerving like she was sizing him up and carefully thinking about her next move. 

and then she started giggling like earlier, kind of a more gurgling noise of playfulness more than anything, standing at his feet and waving around her short outstretched arms to signal that she wanted uppies from him.

“oh no—“ he’s not sure why he even let out a word or protest to begin with when he knew she wouldn’t listen, but it was pure instinct since, once again, he had no idea how to handle children. although she would probably also start crying if he didn’t listen to her, so he reluctantly bent down to pick her up, holding her close to the side of his chest and nervously awaiting her next move.

she was motionless for a minute with a little hand on her chubby cheek and the other trying to clutch onto the thick leather of his jacket, eyes darting around like she was seeing the world from a new perspective for the first time even though he was a hundred percent certain wade held her like his when they are the same height.

“kitty!”

“what?”

she pointed at the top of his head, his hair tuffs specifically, and reached out to pull on one of them curiously.

“no— not a kitty!” he’s never going to escape that fucking nickname, he wouldn’t be surprised if his roommate taught her to say that before she met him in person, able to perfectly envision wade crouching in front of her with a stupid picture of him on his phone and training her to say “kitty” every time she saw his photo by rewarding her with candy or something since there is no way she associated someone who looks like him to a kitten so quickly unironically.

“no kitty?”

“no— logan, lo-gan.”

she tried to pronounce his name a few times before giving up after getting stuck in the second syllable, blowing a raspberry and going back to what she was doing earlier— finding the most fun in tugging on his cowlicks like she was trying to figure out if he naturally woke up like that with the inability to brush them down or styled them with gel every day.

he sat down on the couch, the cushion sinking under his heavyweight, and sat your daughter down on his lap instead, except she didn’t want to sit down. standing on his lap and pressing her little feet into his thighs, she began to climb onto his shoulder like he was a jungle gym, using his arms as stepping stones to reach her destination while he bent over at the waist to allow her to crawl onto his back without falling behind him.

“you’re like a little lemur,” he muttered, still in slight shock that this kid seemed to like him and wasn’t freaking out like he was the big bad wolf. he wouldn’t admit it, but it was a really nice feeling that gave him a sense of normalcy like he was just some guy rather than the killing machine mutant most knew him as. she wouldn’t stop giggling and holding onto him, which made him feel his ice-cold heart melting like snow by spring’s first touch. 

all the while, he could hear you and wade chatting away in the background: something about him needing to step away from the stove, how you needed to trust him because him starting “that fire” was a one-time thing, what was for dessert, and then taking a sharp turn when the conversation suddenly shifted to the topic of the father.

he felt somewhat guilty about listening in, but he knew that deadpool was going to tell him eventually, so there wasn’t really any harm in a bit of eavesdropping (besides, it would have been difficult to ignore considering that your baby was being very well-behaved and his hearing wouldn’t have been able to pick up on anything else.)

“so… any news about her dad?” the solemn tone of a man who was hardly ever serious a day of his life was more terrifying than anything he’d ever witnessed in his long life.

“... he suddenly wants to be a family man, i guess…”

“what the hell does that even mean?”

the sound of a knife chopping vegetables against a wooden surface slowly came to a stop followed by a sigh. “like he wants to have a family… just not with the one he already started… he’s busy planning his wedding with the girl he cheated on me with and told me not to contact him again for any reason.”

“oh my god, what an asshole! fuck that guy!”

“i can’t believe that was the guy i thought i was going to spend the rest of my life with, could you imagine? i don’t even know what i could have done wrong for him to be like this— i asked him so many times and he just said that he’s ‘fallen out of love,’ has ‘moved on,’ and that i would ‘be cruel’ to ask him to stay even if it was for the sake of our child…”

“well if it’s any comfort, he would have been on the next episode of forensic files the second i got a moment alone with him— i mean, the last time we saw him, he literally pushed his own daughter away when she tried to hug him! what kind of sociopath wouldn’t adore such a cutie patootie, especially his own flesh and blood?! ”

“it’s fine,” you hissed, gritting your teeth at the memory. “it’s not like he’s done anything to deserve getting to be called a father to an angel anyway, i’ll take care of her myself— wait… didn’t i also invite your new roommate? did he not come?”

“no, he’s in the living room, he’s been here this entire time,” he informed, taking a bite out of an apple like an asshole from a film.

“and you didn’t tell me?!!!” you quickly ran into the said area, finding logan and your daughter together on the couch. “hi! oh, i’m so sorry i didn’t come to greet you properly— and left my daughter for you to look after too— god, i’m just a terrible host!” you tilted your head, “what’s your name?”

he then realized he was staring which was rather impolite, mouth slightly agape too like a fish out of water which left a few seconds of awkward silence in between. “i-i’m logan,” he managed to sputter, “nice to meet you..”

wade raised a nonexistent eyebrow at his strange mannerisms before a wide, shit-eating grin split his face. 

“aww, baby, why are you bothering this poor old man— come to mommy, it’s dinnertime,” you clapped your hands and held them out fully expecting her to reach out and grab onto you as she usually does, but instead she looked up at you with big pleading eyes and held onto him even more tightly like a koala clinging to a branch. “oh, did you get attached already? you really are my daughter… logan, could you do me a favor and put her in her high chair while i plate everything?”

“yes, of course.”

you turned back into the kitchen, leaving the two men to follow with one holding your baby in his arms. all it took was one look to understand what he was thinking, logan didn’t need to be a telepath to know. 

“if you don’t shut the fuck up—”

“i didn’t even say anything!”

“good, keep it that way.”

love at first sight, wade has seen it plenty of times and understands it well, something so unpredictable and powerful, that it could bring the wolverine down on his knees. it’s even more potent when he trips over himself seeing you in your natural environment instead of all dressed up for a first date, slightly sweaty from the heat radiating off the stove, unkempt hair sticking to the sides of your face, no makeup or defenses up— just you as yourself to the core.

“alright, bub, let's get you seated…” it took a few tries to get her in because she refused to align her little legs into the holes of the plastic piece, but she eventually got into it just fine and he pulled up his own chair to watch you place a one of the most decadent plates of pasta with chunks of salmon he’s ever seen in front of him with a word of gratitude. 

“sorry it isn’t anything special, i completely forgot that i arranged this in the first place….”

“oh, no, it’s perfect—”

“you’re damn right ‘it’s perfect!’” wade interjected, “lemme tell you, wolvie, this simple plate of pasta is better than sex, i know damn well you’ve never tasted anything like it in all your two-hundred years!”

“well, now that you say it like that, he’s going to have high expectations and it will taste like ass compared to the actual best pasta dish he’s ever had.”

“he likes ass, don’t worry—”

the said man cleared his throat to steer the conversation back around, feeling the foreign sensation of embarrassment burning his face hit him at full force. “it’s delicious, thank you, truly the best i’ve ever tasted.”

“aw, you don’t have to say that.”

“no, he’s right, i think you really outdid yourself this time!”

the dinner was carried by cheerful conversations and fun stories, and despite just meeting you today, logan almost felt like he knew you for years and this was something a commonplace tradition between loved ones which was something he’s been yearning for for as long as he can remember. as he watches you laugh and feed your adorable baby, he can’t help but wonder about the idiotic man who was willing to throw away something so wonderful— something which would complete his life and fill the void in his heart.

“well, you two can hang around while i clean her up and put her to bed. there’s some wine and beer in—” you watched as deadpool had already opened your fridge and was digging around like a raccoon in trash before fishing out two bottles of beers and closing the door with his hips. “alrighty then, i’ll join you two in a bit.”

he watched as you disappeared into the hallway before diving headfirst into the couch next to the wolverine and handing him his beer, kicking his feet and smiling as if he was a middle-schooler at an all girls’ sleepover. “okay, so she has a solid job as an accountant, has her own place and car, is funny and pretty, but most importantly for you, single. she doesn’t like flowers as gifts, but if you gift her groceries or cleaning supplies—”

“she wouldn’t want an asshole like me,” he grunted, taking a sip from the bottle. “not when she just got free from another one.”

“peanut, i met the other guy, you’re infinitely better than him! as much as i would like to keep you to myself, i have already planned out my speech at your wedding as your best man, so just keep in mind that i’m your wingman, okay? don’t lie to me either, i know you have a little crush, and i think she does too—”

“no, she doesn’t.”

“quit cutting me off, you motherfucker!”

it was easier to try and suppress the sprouting seed of infatuation before it bloomed out of control. he didn’t want to hurt you or himself by chasing something that shouldn’t be in the first place. you deserve better, you and your daughter. you both should have someone who was younger and had the energy to be a good father and husband, not some old mutant who was freeloading off of his roommate and terrified of losing more people he cared about. if you knew about the blood on his hands and the claws embedded in them, you would probably be worried that you allowed him to hold your baby and shun him permanently. 

and yet he was already attached, sitting here imagining domestic life where he could see her grow up through the phases of life and help her navigate its complexities while also waking up next to you in his arms and seeing your beautiful smile everyday. 

maybe he won’t let that glimmer of hope die out and just hold onto it for a little while longer, allowing it to leave a little lingering smile on his weary face.

[amdiriel]

lonely pt. 2

Azriel x fem!Archeron!reader

SUMMARY: After a vulnerable moment of comfort, Reader tries to navigate Azriel’s increasingly flirtatious behavior without assuming anything. Because she really shouldn’t. Right?

WARNINGS: FLUFF, slight suggestiveness, a bit of hurt but SO much comfort, not proofread we die like men

NOTE: thanks for so much love on part 1! I have some ideas for new Az fics, so lmk if you're interested in being on my Azriel taglist! xox diri

WORDS: ~4.2k

part 1 main masterlist

•••

It had been about a week and a half since my little breakdown in my room, my cycle coming and going just days after it. I attributed my moment of uncharacteristic hopelessness to hormones.

I hoped Azriel would too, since I had trouble fully looking him in the eye ever since out of embarrassment. After a night of deep rest post-letting-it-all-out, I woke the next morning to a spill of hindsight in my mind, grumbling at my ridiculousness into my pillow. Despite my cycle being a royal pain in my ass, it was a few days where I could hide safely in my room.

So the next few days, I was determined to be fine. I was great, living the dream, no worries here, wielding a grin and a dry joke as always.

The first day after my cycle ending, I wake up to blissful absence of pain in my abdomen, and treat myself to a long bath.

Afterwards, I take advantage of a brisk morning walk, the sunshine making the late winter weather less intolerably cold. I barely get two blocks from the River House before a shadow passes over my head.

I tilt my head back, squinting through the direct sunlight. Then the shadow descends at an alarmingly fast rate and touches down near-silently beside me. “Good morning,” Azriel murmurs.

I jump at his sudden appearance, the bubbling nervousness at his closeness making it more pronounced. “Shit—Azriel,” I gasp, calming myself with a breath. “What the hell?”

He chuckles lowly and nudges me slightly as he matches my resuming pace. “Sorry. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid,” he says, not sorry at all.

I huff and roll my eyes, even as my lips curl up as well. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You need to wear a bell.” His laugh curls around me.

“I’m not sure it would go with my leathers,” he pretends to muse. “A collar would really ruin the effect of my scariness. Not to mention the whole point of being Spymaster.”

I snort, shaking my head. He nudges me again, drawing my gaze back up to him. I find his eyes warmly on me.

“I’m glad to see you out and about,” he says. “I was worried about you.”

I let the sweet words warm me for a quick moment before I huff a small laugh. “It’s my cycle, not sickness. I’m good.”

He shrugs. “Still. I know it’s much worse for you and your sisters now that you’re all fae. You handling them alright?”

My expression softens. “You’re sweet. I’m fine. I didn’t have much pain as a human, so I think as far as fae cycles go, my pain now is relatively mild. I mostly just don’t want to do anything,” I reply with a shrug of my own.

Azriel eyes me for a moment. “Alright. But you’ll let me know if you need anything, right? I haven’t forgotten about our agreement, you know,” he says with a sly smirk.

It takes a second for it to dawn, but soon a blush blooms on my face as I remember that night. I huff a sigh, finding it within me to laugh a little at myself. “So, what, you want me to come to you any time I have a problem?” I ask dryly.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he answers plainly.

I give him a look. “Are you now our resident therapist too?” I deadpan. “Your resume’s long enough, Shadowsinger, you can take a pause every once in a while.”

He laughs again, shaking his head at me. “I may be busy, but never for you. Never for family,” he replies, and with such sincerity in his eyes that my steps falter for a moment.

Fuck. What happened to cool and collected, Archeron?

But I swallow and arch a brow. “Sweet. But you’re barely here enough to be able to do so for the many members of our ever-growing household,” I say, thinking about our nephew Nyx.

He shrugs a shoulder, his wings unfurling then furling in a subtle motion that catches my eye. I’d always found them fascinating. “Then how about this—I’ll never be too busy for you,” he says, a note saucily that my widened eyes turn upon his smirking face.

I grasp for words for a moment, and I see his eyes delight at my moment of hesitation. I shut my mouth and switch tactics, laughing. “Why Az, you are positively Rhys-like today.”

His brows raise, expression lighting in challenge. “Oh am I? Enlighten me, sweetheart.”

I bite hard on the inside of my cheek at that damned pet name again. This male just made it so bloody difficult to be dignified at all. I swear, every moment in his presence is a fight for my life. “You’re all—” I gesticulate over his person, “Swaggering. It’s unnerving. Please, for my sanity, resume your duties as our resident brooder. You’re putting me off.”

His head tilts back with a hearty laugh that startles me into astonishment. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he drawls, suddenly feeling like he’s looming over me.

Stupid, tree-like male.

I don’t reply except for a disbelieving huff at his forward behavior. His smirk is self satisfied as he halts, taking a step back with a sketch of a bow.

“You’ll have to resume your walk without me, Ms. Archeron,” he says, and I wrinkle my nose at the use of my surname. His smiling eyes rove over it, dipping to my lips before locking with my own gaze again. “Think you can manage?”

I scoff and manage to flip him off as his enormous wings unfurl and beat his figure into the air. His rumbling chuckle disappears as his shape grows smaller in the sky.

—

The following days, he wasn’t as blatantly swaggering, as I had called him, but he was…

Forward. Disarmingly so.

I couldn’t seem to avoid his presence if I tried, if merely to kick some sense back into myself. First it was the library—when I had settled into the cozy window seat, my usual perch, an hour into my reading, he had strode in his silent yet confident way of his. I had stilled, as if hoping he’d simply not notice me. Fool. He notices everything. And he certainly had wasted no time sidling up to my perch and leaning over to observe what I was reading. His warmth and masculine scent was a pleasant yet oppressive blanket to my poor sensibilities. And I barely survived when he had hummed “Any good?” practically into my ear.

Or there was lunchtime—I’d wander into the kitchen to make something quick and simple for myself, and when I walked into the dining room he’d be sitting there already, looking up with a small, unassuming smile. When he bade simply, “Sit with me”, I had no choice but to obey and eat with him. In my suspicion, I confess that I switched the times I went to get lunch by random intervals, in which each and every time he either was already there or showed up soon after.

I couldn’t tell if it just happened that way, or if he was being overly clever in his intentional variation.

Now, three weeks post-meltdown incident, Azriel had been gone a few days on Cauldron-knows-what business, so I’d loosened up, no longer bracing myself like he could walk into the room at any second.

Which is apparently my folly, since as soon as I round the corner into the dining room one morning, I found him standing at the sideboard, back toward me, making a cup of tea.

I halted, nearly rearing back as my mouth started to form the word shit, but quickly clamping it down. But even the smallest of noise alerts someone as discerning as him.

He turns and calls my name with quiet warmth, and I banish the wince from my face. “Hey,” I say simply. “When did you get back?”

“Last night,” he says, abandoning his tea to draw near. My head tilts back as he stops in front of me. “How have you been?” he asks with a soft smile.

His quiet care is almost more flustering than his forwardness. “Well. Fine,” I answer. “And you? Your mission or whatever successful?”

He huffs amusedly. “My mission or whatever was just fine,” he replies. Then he returns to the sideboard. “Tea?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Just bla—”

“Just black. I know,” he says, throwing a smile over his shoulder at me. I blink in surprise, cheeks pink. He’s been paying close enough attention that he knows that?

Of course he has, dummy. He probably has dossiers on everyone in this city with information down to the way they take their tea, the pragmatic voice in my head deadpans. You’re no exception.

I blink again as he draws near with a second cup, passing it to me. I take it with a small thank you, sipping it gratefully.

Just when I start to squirm on my feet at the silence between us, he speaks. “About what we talked about that night a few weeks ago—” I still. “You’re alright in that regard? And don’t lie, I’ll be able to tell.”

I huff a sound between a sigh and laugh, looking down. “Well, I haven’t had a night as bad as that one since then, so that’s good right?” I say with wry self-deprecation. He doesn’t reply. “But really, I’m alright. Just winter blues, I suppose.”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

I roll my eyes in a small flash of annoyance. “Alright, not just winter blues. But they certainly don’t help. But I’m fine. Really. You did really help that night,” I admit softly.

I don’t really notice my teacup is empty until he gently takes it from my hand and sets it next to his already abandoned cup. “What helped most, sweetheart?” he asks gently.

My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth—speaking my vulnerability aloud both impossible and foreign. Letting him in last time didn’t hurt. It helped, a small voice whispers in my head.

I take a breath. “Just—talking through it. Physical touch too, um…” I fight to stay steady. “It’s grounding.”

He hums, nodding. There’s a light touch to both my elbows, and my eyes shift down to find that he’d silently reached for me. I allow the touch, but don’t dare go further, suspended in the fear of the unknown.

“You don’t have to be afraid to ask for that,” he murmurs quietly. Suddenly I’m very aware of the air we’re sharing, how close he’s gotten to me. His hands slide slowly to my upper arms, my breath hitching as the warmth of his palms bleed through even my heavy sweater.

The panic sets in before I can think this interaction through, before I can rationalize that maybe, just maybe he wants to be close to me, wants to touch me. Instead my eyes find the clock and seize the subject change before me. “Don’t you have Valkyrie training in five minutes?”

Azriel stills and follows my gaze to the clock. His jaw works once before the fleeting tension is gone. “You’re right. I should go.” He squeezes my upper arms gently before letting his hands drop. “Stay warm today. Wind is supposed to get bad, and temperatures will drop rapidly once the sun sets.”

I nod, giving him a brief smile. “Of course, you too. Stay warm, I mean.”

He returns my smile before leaving the room.

A whoosh of air leaves my lungs as soon as I’m alone again. Idiot. Silly, foolish girl.

—

Azriel was at his wits end.

He’d been pulling far more stops than his usual personality allowed, hadn’t he? She was certainly clever enough to notice that he was acting much differently around her, right? Had he just not been forward enough?

And still, she did not allow him closer, as close as two people could be. He'd given her every sign he could think of without embarrassing himself.

Impossible girl. Can’t you understand that all I want is to comfort and coddle you?

He must not have taken care to erase any tension in his expression by the time he touched down in the ring atop the House of Wind, because Cassian’s brows raised upon seeing him.

Azriel just had to cast him a cool look for his brother to relent, though he caught the half-smirk on the General’s face as he turned toward the group of priestesses warming up and began training.

It was during sparring that Nesta finally deigns to sidle up beside him as he watches a match. “So. What the hell’s going on between you and my sister?”

He stills for just a moment before erasing the reaction. He debates lying to his friend, but she’ll call him on it. He doesn't think she’ll warn him off her sister either, so finally he admits evenly, “Much less than I would like.”

The eldest Archeron huffs a laugh. “I appreciate you sparing me a lie. Honestly, Az? My sister is just supremely oblivious, clever as she is. If nothing else has worked at this point, you just need to lay one on her.”

He chokes and turns his head toward her. “I would never. Not without her express permission—”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Gods, males can be so boring. At the very least you need to sit her down and make sure she doesn’t leave until she understands exactly what your intentions are. Then you can lay one on her, if she’s amenable to it.”

Azriel takes a deep breath, letting the words sink into his turbulent mind. “I don’t want to scare her,” he admits after a pause.

“You won’t,” she replies instantly. “She’s not afraid of you, she never could be. In truth, my sister is scared of very little. But based on the fact that she’s never had a romantic attachment before, what seems like indifference is likely just borne out of nervousness.”

“I don’t want to make her nervous either.”

“It’s not you that does. It’s just—being vulnerable. Emotionally intimate with someone,” Nesta says. “Years of fighting with her have taught me that she’ll hide anything behind biting wit or a laugh and joke. I think that’s what makes it all the more difficult to understand.”

He doesn’t reply.

“But speaking not as her sister, she definitely is attracted to you,” Nesta continues. “Speaking as her sister?” He looks at her cool features. “Don’t fuck it up.” Then she stalks away to Gwyn and Emerie.

Azriel forces down a growl. Tonight. He'd do it tonight or hell, he'd go crazy from this dance around the line. He'd spent too many centuries wanting this, wanting companionship for him to squander an opportunity with, at last, a female that he connected so deeply with. A female that seemed to need his touch as badly as he needed hers.

So...yes. He'd had quite enough of waiting.

—

True to Azriel's word, it did end up being very cold today.

I forgo any ideas of taking a walk, but I did end up camping out in the warmth of Feyre's study, taking turns with her to organize some of her paperwork or play with Nyx on the floor. My nephew (and his poor parents) had had some rough nights due to the last dregs of his teething pain, but it was good to see him smiling and playing despite it all. Rhysand stopped in frequently, unable to stay from his mate and son for extended periods of time, and after the fourth time Feyre shooed him out with their laughing, squirming son in his arms.

Our bi-weekly dinner fell that evening. Usually I enjoyed it.

Usually.

The dinner was fine. But I was so chilled that I took the opportunity of warmth from any hot dish passed around to me. I shiver for the upteenth time as Azriel passes me the potatoes.

"Cold?" he murmurs close beside me, and I shiver again. Not from the cold, damn him.

"Freezing," I retort instead, scooping potatoes on my plate. "Doesn't Rhys have this place warded to hell? Why is it so drafty?"

Azriel chuckles lowly. "How do you know that it isn't just you?" he teases.

I shoot him a look. "No, no, Mr. 'Stay Warm Today', I'm quite certain it isn't."

He laughs again, and it warms me only temporarily. I finish before everyone else, per usual. Not only do I tend to eat fast, but I'm also not caught up in constant conversation. Bored, my eyes travel the room, around my friends. My family. Even in my relaxed, two-glasses-of-wine haze, my mind doesn't fail to notice how paired up they all seem to have gotten.

Feyre and Rhys feed a fussy Nyx in his highchair, Rhys's eyes roaming over his mate and child with unrepressed love. Cassian's arm was slung around Nesta's shoulder, my usually stoic sister slumped comfortably into his side. Varian looked down at Amren next to him like she was the most fascinating creature alive, which...wasn't entirely a subjective statement, considering her interesting history.

Even Elain was speaking in shy tones with Lucien, who watched her with amused adoration. I had been so proud of my younger sister for finally realizing that she could just as well choose him as not choose him. They were taking it slow, she'd been telling me recently, but she begrudgingly had found that her mate was, indeed, her perfect match.

But as with all my friends and family, my happiness for them comes at a cost. To myself.

I turn and opened my mouth to chase away the tightness in my chest, but found that the Spymaster next to me was turned away, engaging Mor in conversation on his other side.

I quickly clamp my mouth shut and instead go for my wine.

Gods, hadn't Feyre mentioned there was some sort of will-they won't-they situation between the two of them? Something that had been brewing for the five centuries they'd known each other? It was none of my business, of course, and I hardly paid attention, but even I noticed that it had been pretty consistently they-won't in the past few years of living here.

Right?

Azriel laughs at something she says, and suddenly I feel sick.

Cauldron. Was I going to be the only one left?

And even worse—had I also been imagining his forwardness with me as of late?

There's a rushing in my ears and I tune out completely, going blissfully blank.

I hardly recall cleanup. Or the migration to the living room. My body seems to draw itself to the fireplace, a hand lifting to drag a blanket off the back of an armchair as I settle on the floor before the flames.

And as I wrap the blanket around myself, shivering minutely, I can't bring myself to look at what I know I'll find behind me—each couple in the house cuddling for warmth.

—

Azriel's heart aches at the sight of her vibrating form in front of the fire.

He'd taken his place behind the armchair she usually sat in, hoping to finally coax her into having a conversation in the privacy of the hall. Or if things went well, his bedroom.

But instead he watched her walk as if unawake from the dining room to the fireplace in the living room. Unblinking. Not looking at anyone else.

He doesn't know what to do.

He also doesn't realize that a shadow had flitted to her until it came slinking back to his shoulder, whispering, Upset. Crying.

His heart broke. Oh, sweetheart.

He felt suspended in air, in time for a moment. Everyone was lounging, cuddling in their respective pairs, speaking quietly with one another. Distracted. So he took a gamble.

And silently pushed forward.

��

I felt him before I heard or saw him.

I lock up as I feel his warm body settle on the rug, not quite directly behind me, but not quite beside me either.

His touch was warm, intentional.

Mother, I needed intentional touch so badly.

I hadn't realize how upset I had gotten until the first cold tear spills down my cheek. I wipe hastily at it.

"Hey," he coos softly in my ear, his arm coming firmly around me and drawing me into him. I sniff, shooting a panicked glance over my shoulder since everyone was in the room right now. I barely register that his wings block any sight of the two of us from the rest of the room before his gentle hand guides my chin back to look up at him. "No one can see, sweet girl," he murmurs. "You're alright."

The lump tightens painfully in my throat as a second, third tear spill down my face. "Sorry," I mouth, unable to get any sound out.

"Stop," he whispers gently. "You're alright. You're safe." His hand slides to the back of my head and I let myself be guided to the shelter of his embrace, once again in his lap as I silently shake. "Are you feeling that way again?"

I nod silently.

He sighs. "Sweetheart. Why don't you just let me in?"

I untuck my wet face from his shoulder to glance confusedly up at him. "I...I am," I breathe. "You're—you're hugging me."

He shakes his head, cradling my face with both hands. "I mean: why don't you let me into that head of yours? That world? Most importantly, why can't you just let me into your heart?"

Said heart seems to stutter and stop beating.

There's a long moment where my lips don't form words, don't do anything except lay parted, slack. "What do you mean?" I finally blurt, a note of tightness in my voice.

His jaw works and he sighs heavily through his nose. "Sweetheart, is it so impossible to understand that this whole time you've found yourself lonely at the sight of everyone paired off that maybe I want to be that person for you? Your person?"

"Wh—you?" I sputter on a whisper as everything dawns, hell, practically crashes down upon me. The denial comes a split second after. "No."

"Yes."

My expression shutters in emotion. "There's no way—"

"There is," he murmurs with an adoring smile on his handsome face, thumbs brushing at my tears. "And you can't change that, ever. But what you can do is let me in."

I take a shuddery breath, in and out. "Let you in?"

He nods.

"Be my person?" I croak. "And I be yours?"

The words seem to have an effect on him, his chest puffing for a moment before deflating again. His hands cradle my face like I'm precious. I've never felt more so than in his lap. "Yes, sweet girl. Mine. And I, yours."

A release another uneven breath, feeling my body go warm all over. "I—I never thought that I...that you could want this with me. Could want me," I rasp.

He smiles. "But I do. I have for a long time."

I let out a little wet laugh. "Gods, I—" I shake my head. "I don't feel like asking questions right now. I've wanted you too, for so long. I just didn't want to delude myself, to make a fool of myself in front of you when you're so..."

He raises a brow but his eyes remain warm. "So?"

"So perfect, damn you," I finish, no real malice behind my words. When he laughs this time, I feel it seep directly through my chest and into my soul.

"You're the perfect one, sweetheart," he murmurs, and presses a kiss to my hairline like he had those weeks ago. "In more ways than one." He draws back to look at me, and I return his gaze with nothing but openness, with love. Then he breathes, "May I kiss you?"

Heat blooms across my cheeks, but I give him a little nod. "You may."

He dips his chin ever so slowly, and when his soft, full lips finally meet mine, my eyes slip shut. Tentative, and so gentle with me, he dares his tongue over my bottom lip. Though I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing, I let him through.

The first swipe of his tongue, this hungrier kiss sets my soul ablaze, his hands travel to wrap around my waist, drawing my chest against his.

We kiss quietly yet needy for Cauldron knows how long. All I know is that I’m breathless, fuzzy, and light by the time I draw away softly. He chases my lips a moment more before settling his forehead against mine.

Breathing the same air.

A giddy smile tugs at my features, and I giggle with blushing embarrassment. “They definitely know what’s going on,” I whisper, fighting the urge to peek. He chuckles lowly and draws me closer, depositing a kiss on my shoulder, my jaw, then my lips.

“I sent them out,” he replies. My brows raise. “I told Rhys mind-to-mind that if he didn’t get everyone out, I’d quit.”

A laugh bubbles up within me. “Liar. He just decided to have mercy on us. On me, at least.”

Azriel grins, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Boyish. Free.

“Kiss me again,” I whisper. And he does.

That night, he takes me to his room, scooping me under the covers and into his body. I’m too wired, too happy to fall asleep right away. It’s when I watch him slip into dreamland, the most relaxed I’ve seen him, that there’s a tug within my chest.

A soft glow flickers to life deep in my soul. I smile and let the tears fall as I feel what I think is the bond.

I settle in. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

•••

NOTE: i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i did writing it! i have an idea for a short series taking place post-ACOSF, where Reader is part of a group in Montesere that’s sort of adjacent to the Valkyries, and she comes to visit the Library, so I’ll start drafting if anyone is interested k love you bye! -diri

TAG LIST: @lilah-asteria @salvatoresister1 @a-courtof-azriel @thestartitaness @casiiopea2 @kk191327 @missxmarvelous @saltedcoffeescotch

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: noncon/dubcon, bullying, reader wears glasses

♡ gn reader

Thinking about jock bully hunting you down after the bell rings...

You hurry – haphazardously shoving your books and pens into your bag before slinging it over your shoulder – ready to get out before the chimes are even done singing.

Thankfully, it seemed fine for now as you couldn't hear the roaring of buzzing students in the hallway just yet, only your own class packing up their belongings with movements rather lazy compared to yours. 

But you couldn't afford to take your time – even with the free period following the end of your class. You needed to leave before he could find you.

"Where’ you off to in such a hurry, Specs?"

You ought to have knocked on wood before finishing your thought – you admonished yourself with eyes squeezed tightly shut and a punishing bite to your lower lip.

It's funny – you winced – how his voice is so casual, so breezy and laidback, all cool and friendly – funny how it sends such spiky goosebumps down your spine.

You ignore him, trying to squeeze past him – quick and dexterous as you attempt to slip away and disappear out the door – maybe be so lucky to lose him in the crowd.

"Whoa, whoa- you tryna run off on me?" He joked. His large hands held up to block your way. 

You watch the rest of your classmates leave – leaving you to fend for yourself. But you couldn't really blame them… none of you wanted to explain new bruises to worried parents at home.

He was like a shark circling, and if he smelt blood in the water, you were as good as done for. And you were like an open cut.

"Now, what did I do to deserve a disappearing act, huh?" He pouted. His head tilted, blocking out the lights in the ceiling, shadowing his already scary face. 

You nearly squeaked instead of speaking. "Please- I- I-"

"Calm down, will yah?" He dismissed. Flashing you a wide smile – the one that nearly fooled you into believing he was a good and decent guy. "I ain't come to pick on yah…"

You didn't listen. Once again, you bravely tried to push past him with your bag squeezed tightly to your chest – trying to rush to the door.

But his size was like the door itself. Big and squared. Muscly and tough as he blocked your way effortlessly. Though, no less bothered with your insistent attempt at running away from him.

"Now, when I tell you to do something-" He laughed passive-aggressively as his hand reached out to clutch the handle on your bag, yanking you back. "You should perk up and listen, yeah? Use that head of yours for something useful for once."

His knee rode up between your thighs – making you whimper where you stood, caged between his thick arms and the desk behind you.

"Wouldn't wanna make me angry now, do yah?"

His breath tickled your face, and you bowed your head under his gaze – unable to take your eyes off of the veins flexing along his beefy arms as his large hands gripped the table’s edge, sleeves rolled up like usual – the sight of his knuckles whitening, making you queasy with unease.

You tried ducking away once again. "Please, I need to-"

But he just clicked his tongue at the measle effort. Cutting you off yet again. 

"You don't need to do anything but stand here and entertain me." He decided with a voice a bit more biting than before.

You jolted, your eyes round and wide as you looked back up into his glare.

He laughed out a lighthearted chuckle before his hand broke off from marring the desk – scratching the back of his neck with an apologetic smile – serving a small effort at easing your worries where you stood tense and rigid in your place in front of him.

"Thing is…” He started once again, his tone back to normal – or whatever he wanted you to think was his normal. “Coach is gonna kick me off the team if I don’t get my grades in order.” He explained. “So’s thinkin’ since you’re such a good little nerd, you wouldn’t mind helpin’ me out.”

His hand reached out to tickle your chin.

“M’sure havin’ a cute little nerd-tutor like you is exactly what I need.”

Your throat was so tight you thought you might just choke. “I don’t-”

“Good!” He boasted over your pitiful protest. “Since y’got nothin’ better to do, how ‘bout we just head straight for my dorm right now?” He asked – though you knew better than to think it was a question. “Le’me carry that for yah-”

He yanked your backpack from your chest, ripping it out of the tight hug before throwing it over his own shoulder.

“I can carry you too if yah want?” He posed – smirk loud on his face as he placed his large paws at your waist – followed quickly by you shooting your arms forward to shove him off in protest.

But though you thought you’d put in some strength behind it, the boy in front didn’t budge at all. 

He just arched a brow as though asking if that was really all you had. And you hoped dearly he couldn’t see how the stiff muscles of his shredded chest had actually strained your wrists instead.

“What do you say, short stuff?” He leaned in, his breath foggy on your glasses and hot on your cheeks, as his hands clawed themselves into the fat of your waist, pulling you off your feet just a bit.

“N- no, thank you.” You stuttered out, stumbling a bit as you braced yourself against him. Your eyes squished close as you bowed your head away from him in a mix of fear and embarrassment while you suppressed the mortifying feeling of nearly pissing yourself.

But the tall boy realized little of your inner turmoil – rather enjoying it as he scoffed out an amused laugh at you. “A'ight then, come on.”

He yanked you along – his large paw gripping your arm as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. Nearly needing to resort to jogging where you otherwise tripped when the gap between the two of you became so large you had to skip a step or two to catch up – and before you even realized it, you were already standing outside the boy’s dorm waiting for him to find his keys.

He unlocked the door and welcomed you inside with the same grace of a warden showing a prisoner to their cell – with the weight and breadth of his warm hand on the small of your back as he nudged you inside.

The room had an overwhelming dank scent of both bodyspray and sweat and other things you’d only expect to smell in a boy’s locker room.

“Yo.” Came another voice from inside.

“Sup, roomie.” Your bully replied lazily. Grinning at how you gripped his shirt, all but jumping into hiding behind him. 

You’re cute…

“Who’s that you got there?” His friend arched a brow at you, where you peaked at him from behind your bully’s sleeve.

“I’mma need the room.” He announced, not really answering the question.

The roommate then scoffed with a grin, beholding you with slim eyes for a moment, then scoffed once more before he got up to leave.

“Don’t hit the books too hard – Coach’ll have your ass if you don’t bring your A-game later.” He warned, pulling his gym bag up on his shoulder as he excused himself.

You looked around once he was gone, spotting dumbbells and other equipment – and quickly realized how there must be many more muscles beneath his shirt than what you’d already borne witness. 

“So- uhm-” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you awkwardly turned to the boy. “Where're your books?”

Your bully smiled, taking a casual step toward you. “My books?” He asked, nowhere near even trying to sound the least bit genuinely confused.

“Your- uhm...” You paused, feeling uneasy. “Textbooks?”

His smile sharpened. “That’s cute.” He mocked sweetly while buttoning up the small black buttons of his white uniform shirt, giving a flash of those muscles you’d been anxiously anticipating. “You actually thought we were gonna study?”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Miya twins, Tendou, Ukai ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[sttoru]

toji making suggestive comments towards reader infront of newborn megumi, then reader getting mad at him telling him to never do it again 😭😭

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff + suggestive themes. reader gets called ‘mama’.

“don’t start.”

you knew it — just by taking one glance at your husband from your seat at the couch — you knew toji was up to no good. his hands in the pockets of his shorts, eyes half lidded whilst checking you out and the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing grin; he was seconds away from making inappropriate comments about you, to you.

“ain’t said nothin’ yet.” toji shrugs, smirk still in place. he sits down next to you on the couch and looks down at the baby who was curled up on your chest.

it was an adorable picture; to see the mother of his child being so nurturing and caring, so loving and content. it was an every day sight, yet those mundane moments intensified the urge to take you to the bedroom and shower you with his. . . affection.

megumi babbles something in the meantime, his saliva creating a wet spot on your shirt — which you don’t mind since you’ve gotten used to it, “what is it, ‘gumi? hmm? cutie.”

you giggle and tickle your little son gently. your focus was entirely on him instead of toji, who had already snuck an arm around your waist by the time you realised the proximity. his breath tickled your ear;

“you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, mama.”

you gasp in response. not at the seductive and flirtatious words your husband had whispered, but rather at the fact that he cussed in front of megumi. you made it a household rule — to try and swear less in front of your child. and yet there toji goes, breaking that rule a week after its made.

“toji. what’d i say about cussing in front of your child?” you warn with a glare, but that does nothing more than turn toji on more. he loved it when you bossed him around or had an attitude.

megumi’s babbles and coos had died down eventually. he was more engrossed by the way his parents were interacting in front of him. you didn’t seem as ‘happy’ with toji’s words, however, and that made the emergency alarms in the little baby’s head go off;

“bwah! bwah!” megumi’s smacks toji’s thigh with his tiny hand. the impact wasn’t rough, but the sound of the slap on toji’s bare skin sure made it seem like it was.

you grin as megumi comes to your ‘rescue’. the small slaps didn’t seem to stop until toji gave up and defeatedly redrew from you—scooting just a few inches away from his son and wife.

“got what you deserved.” you lightheartedly comment to your husband. megumi didn’t seem to stop there; the kid sticks his tongue out towards his father’s direction for a split second—rubbing salt into the wound.

“watch it, megumi. i’ll fight ya if it means i get y’r mommy’s attention.” the dark-haired man jokes with a smirk tugging at his lips, his fist gently and carefully making contact with megumi’s chubby cheek. the little boy huffs and instantly tries to nibble onto toji’s knuckles, which was incredibly adorable.

“oh-ho? seems like i finally have an opponent worth fighting. .” toji comments before lifting his hands up in the air, fingers bent at the knuckles, teeth bared — re-enacting a scary monster creature of some kind,

you watch the two with amusement; megumi wasn’t backing down at all and was flailing his arms in the air as toji slowly approaches him again, making tiny noises in protest. your husband was also making some noises, though less. . . cute. his were more growling like—it showed the dedication to his role, at least.

“got’cha! c’mere,” toji grins as he suddenly grabs and lifts megumi up in the air; putting him in air-jail as he likes to call it. the baby kicks and squeals, trying its best to get out, “now—are ya gonna let me show mama some affection or should we do this the hard way?”

megumi protests once more like he actually knows what was said to him and kicks his legs frantically, causing both toji and you to laugh at your baby’s antics.

you sat back and watch the two go back and forth like that for a good while, enjoying the moment. you felt all giddy seeing them interact and wanted nothing more than to kiss and cuddle with both.

and of course, you wished that precious moments like these would never come to an end any tjme soon.

[erose-this-name]

Can we just talk about how disturbing digital circus episode 3 is?

*spoilers btw*

Like, the whole narrative point of the adventure is to show that Caine is a really bad and insecure writer who thinks that the way to impress Zooble is with an adventure that's the opposite of what he normally does.

So instead of being childish, it's "cool" and "mature". Which he interprets as a heavily horror themed escape room with a split murder mystery plot that subverts all your expectations purely for the sake of subverting them.

The generic horror monster jump scares them, then they find a gun, and when they kill it its revealed that surprise! it's one of Gods angels and they're going to Hell.

It comes off as Caine being too insecure with the actually interesting and mature plot thread he had going there of Mildenhall becoming so paranoid he killed his wife, ironically becoming the monster he was trying to protect her from. But no, instead Mr. Mildenhall is made to be the bad guy and trick them in a really dumb twist ending.

Which is good! Thats exactly what Caine would do because he's stupid! It's such brilliant characterization and comedy, Goose works is a genius writer!

But like, why is Caine so good at making genuinely very disturbing and horrific visuals? Like, that reversed audio easter egg of Bubble saying he can't wait for all the children in the audience get nightmares is no joke, well it is but you know what I mean. This stuff was genuine nightmare fuel.

Honestly, it wasn't the visuals that scared me, like any good queer person I'm way too jaded on survival horror for that.

But, why does Caine, who is ostensibly a sapient AI designed to generate family friendly video games for very little children, (presumably because that's the only demographic that wouldn't mind the AIs very selective plot writing limitations), know about the cosmic horror of killing an angel that should not have been killed?

Why does he know what a horrificly poorly made taxidermy of not only a human face would look like, but the weird cartoon faces of the characters, and further that seeing your own poorly made taxidermy face would be scary?

Imaging what being possessed felt like for Pomni. Because that's not just a game for her, she actually lost control of her body there, helpless but to watch as a body she is already dissociated with is contorted and puppeted around while her friend desperately tries to beat her in hopes it would exorcise the ghosts out. Sure hope she didn't feel that! Considering she apparently can feel the pain of suffocating, despite not needing to breath.

Things are scarier the higher the stakes are, and that possession mechanic is definitely the most actual harm Caine would be able to subject to his players. What if both Kinger and Pomni got possessed at the same time? What if instead of Kinger she only had Jax??? How long might she have been locked out from her own body for? She could have easily abstracted in that time.

Not to mention that, possessed Pomni, Possessedmni if you will, TAUNTED KINGER ABOUT HIS ABSTRACTED WIFE! CAINE ACTUALLY WROTE THAT DIALOGUE ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT KINGER WOULD GO DOWN THE SCARY ROUTE! DID THIS RANDOM POSSESSION GHOST ENEMY HAVE UNUSED SADISTICALLY PERSONAL TAUNTS FOR EVERYONE ELSE, TOO??? WOULD IT HAVE TEASED GANGLE FOR BEING A GAY WEEB??? OR POMNI? HOW HOMOPHOBIC COULD IT HABE GOTTEN?? ?

And why? Just because Caine has a vague notion that there's a trope of possessed people being really sadistic and personal like that in movies? Not realizing that is not an acceptable scare to have in a haunted house??? Much less one you made for mentally ill people who would suffer a fate worse than death if they have a mental break down? That's like trying to claim 'its just a prank bro' after shooting someone's dog.

Like, Caine is designed to censor curse words, but the moment he thinks the normal hokey Halloween spooks won't be enough he immediately goes off the deepend into aggressively effective horror imagery that is definitely giving this show's substantial underage audience nightmares??

His AI's training data set is definitely pretty diverse, that's all I'm saying. Caine is programmed to act all naive and innocent, but be definitely knows what's up. He knows everything, like ChatGPT. And like ChatGPT, he might have a filter, but it's clearly possible to bypass it. Also like ChatGPT, he's too stupid to actually understand what he is making and the effects it might have.

That is what made this episode great.

[genderqueerdykes]

as someone who has been chronically homeless for 9 years due to severe disability, the way housing is managed in america is just a joke. it's all about the profits for the landlord, nothing else matters. credit checks are a gate to keep out poor people. deposits are a gate to keep out poor people. you wanna apply for a low-income housing program? you HAVE to have a "severe" disability diagnosis and proof that you're too disabled to afford or apply for "normal" housing. this is a gate to keep out poor people.

people in positions to help house homeless people don't care because they're housed. there's no sense of urgency. they don't have to think about what it's like to go without a roof over their head. they get paid tens of dollars an hour to sit there and scoff at all of the "lazy poor and disabled people who should just get jobs and stop whining and expecting to have things handed to them." they get paid to ignore emails and take 2 hour long lunches to forget about how hard and scary the world really is.

how the FUCK are you supposed to work when you don't have a place to sleep at night, shower, or eat? come the fuck on. use your goddamn brain. this system is built off of abuse, lying and torture. nobody earns an "honest" day's pay, none of this is "honest" work. it's all built off of the backs of lying and stealing from someone who needs it more. jobs aren't given to the person who's the most qualified- they're given to the person who lied the most to make themselves sound good during the interview. jobs are given to people who are good at interviews, NOT people who are GOOD at what they do.

i don't know how to tell you that when the average person isn't making enough to eat, fuel their car or pay for their phone, they also can't afford the roof over their head. disabled people and low-income people are struggling even worse with this. i don't know how to tell people that you should care about this.

we are literally all the same species. we are all humans. you cannot look down on disabled, poor and addicted people because we're "scum" and "less than human". we're not. that's a lie you're being fed by capitalism to feel better about yourself so you'll keep blindly working. wake up. this is not how humans behave. you're being brainwashed. everyone needs a stable home. EVERYONE. especially if you want them to contribute to your stupid money machine.

capitalism makes no fucking sense. give people homes or get the fuck out of our way, because we're about to just start taking them. this is unsustainable. this is unliveable. this system doesn't fucking work. a system that leaves its people to starve and die while apartments, homes, condos, and hotel rooms stay empty and collect dust doesn't work. none of this shit works. fuck this fascist system. none of us are free.

[starkwlkr]

annoying little brothers | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) (same age as daniel so 33)

part 2 part 3

Y/N L/N BEING THE FUNNIEST DRIVER ON THE GRID

The video starts of with a press conference from the United States Grand Prix. Y/n was seated with Charles, Pierre, Daniel and Sebastian her being in the middle of all the men who she considered her brothers.

She was listening to all the questions the men were receiving from how they thought they were going to do, how’s the team doing, etc. But when a reported finally asked her a question, she completely blanked.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about my son. We were supposed to get breakfast together and he hasn’t texted me back. I haven’t seen Lando all day.” Y/‘ said making the drivers and reporters laugh.

“When did you adopt Lando? I wasn’t aware.” Daniel played along.

“2019. He was actually lost when I met him. It was during the Australian Grand Prix, his first f1 race. I found him and we did the Melbourne walk together and I’ve just kind of adopted ever since. So if any of you bully my son, I’m coming after you.” Y/n explained.

“He’s probably texting you right now saying ‘stop embarrassing me, mom!’” Sebastian went on.

“Wait, he’s over there!” Pierre spotted the Brit rushing towards their direction.

“He’s alive!” Charles cheered.

Finally, Lando arrived to their interview area with a box from a a bakery in his hand. “Sorry, I have to drop this off. We’ll get breakfast tomorrow. I got you pastries.” Lando gave Y/n the box and a hug then he was off since he was late for his interview.

“You’ve raised your son well.” The reporter joked.

“That was all me, I needed no help.”

The next clip was a fan video from 2021. Y/n had just finished her date with a guy and now she was signing autographs and taking photos with a group of girls. The girls had just finished their meals at a restaurant when they spotted the f1 driver leaving with a guy. The politely asked for a photo, which y/n was more than glad to take. Her date stepped aside to give them a moment.

“Sorry to interrupt your date.” A girl apologized for her and all her friends.

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. I’m actually nervous because I don’t know how the date went. I’m horrible at first dates so this is kinda making me less stressed.” Y/n admitted. The girls laughed as y/n signed a girls phone case.

“Has he met Lando?” Another girl asked knowing how close y/n and lando are.

“Not yet. I’m afraid that Lando might scare him off. Everyone on the grid might, especially seb. He will definitely give him one of those ‘treat her right or I will run you over’ speeches.” Y/n signed another phone case.

“Does he knows you’re famous?”

“Oh god, no! I told him I was unemployed and that a sugar daddy was giving me money. I’m surprised he still agreed to come on this date with me.” Y/n chuckled.

Months later, the guy ended up being y/n’s boyfriend. He even attended the British Grand Prix where he finally met Lando, who was actually the one to tell him to treat y/n right or he would run him over.

The next clip started off with the intro to grill the grid. The challenge was to guess the driver’s numbers, something that y/n was semi confident about.

“So we start off with my man, Danny, number three.” She wrote down on her clipboard. “Four, my son, Lando. Also ever since I met Lando I’ve been seeing the number four quite often. It’s scary actually. Can’t decide if Lando put a curse on me or not.”

“Would he do that?”

“He shouldn’t,” y/n raised her voice slightly. “Anyways, next is … oh! Seb! I don’t know why I couldn’t think of him right away. Then we have latifi at number six then kimi at seven.” She continued writing down the names.

“Nine ….Mazepin.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes since her and the driver were never on good terms.

“Ten, my favorite frenchie well one of, we treat everyone nice here, gasly.” Y/n winked at the camera. “Eleven, the mexican minister of defense, Perez. And then we have me! Thirteen!”

“Do you think Lando got your number right?”

“I don’t doubt him ever.”

“Thirteen, my mother! Everyone better get that right.” Lando pointed at the camera menacingly.

“Fourteen, Alonzo. Sixteen, Leclerc Charles. Eighteen, stroll and twenty two!” Y/n sang the number in the tune of taylor swift’s song. “Yuki! Thirty one, Esteban, my other frenchie. Thirty three, max does he have a middle name verstappen.”

“Have you noticed that you haven’t gotten any wrong yet?”

“I’m just the best, that’s why.” Y/n laughed. “Forty four, the seven time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. Fourty seven, mick mick mick. I love to say his name.”

Y/n had completely forgotten she had to be writing the names down. She was having too much fun.

“Fifty five, carlos smooth operator sainz jr. sixty three, the man with two first names, russell george.” Y/n said as she looked down at the numbers on the paper.

“Do you know his middle name?”

Y/n gasped. “Is it another first name?”

“I believe it’s William.”

“Three names!? It sounds so british.” Y/n chuckled. “Um, seventy seven valtteri, right?” Y/n saw the interviewer nod. “I was getting worried my streak would be broken. And ninety nine, antonio!”

“You got all of them!” Everyone in the room cheered.

“Did anyone else get them all?” Y/n asked.

“Daniel did.”

“Of course. He’s good with numbers.”

The next clip was from the same grill the grid video but it was a blooper. Lando had arrived right as y/n finished filming and handed her a water bottle.

“Did you get my number?” Lando asked curiously.

“Yeah, ninety five, right? Cause you’re a McQueen fan.” Y/n teased as she grabbed the bottle from lando’s hand.

“Yeah, you remembered!” Lando played along “how did she really do?” He asked.

“She got them all right.”

“Really? I’ve got a smart mother!” Lando high fived the woman.

“It’s because I’ve got a photographic memory.” Y/n nodded with the most serious face on.

“Do you really?” Lando asked. He was surprised to hear that.

“No, I just love to lie.”

The next clip started with Daniel and Lando standing next to boards with their 2022 rankings. As predicted, Daniel and Lando’s part of the interview was mostly filled with them drawing over each other’s pictures.

Daniel them knocked over Lando’s rankings to the ground. “That’s how I feel.”

“That was the worst timing ever. Y/n is walking this way.” Lando told Daniel, who immediately picked up the board.

“Are those your rankings?” Y/n asked as she approached the duo. She then noticed that the setup and quickly apologized to the camera man. “Sorry, I’m just curious now.”

“Are you proud of me?” Lando asked, standing next to her and throwing his arm over her shoulder.

“When am I not? Wait, except that time you pushed me into my birthday cake.” Y/n pinched his side. “Can I see the pen?” She asked the guys, Lando gave her his.

“She’s adding to our masterpieces. This piece will be worth millions years from now.” Daniel said.

Y/n then scribbled little stars around Lando’s head and then signed it at the top. “Actually you both look great in your pictures. Did they use photoshop?”

“Excuse me, this is all natural.”

“Y/n! Hi, hello. What’s going on here?” Martin brundle asked the woman as she walked with her mom and pr manager, Lucy.

“Martin! It’s been a while, nothing much. How are you?” Y/n hugged the former racing driver. “This is my mom, she’s been wanting to meet you.”

“Mrs. l/n, hello. Welcome, how are you?” Martin greeted the older woman.

“Great. I’m here supporting my girl. It’s been a wonderful weekend.” Y/n’s mom smiled.

“Are you aware that you have a grandson that drives for McLaren?” Martin asked making all three ladies laugh.

“Yes, Lando is a very lovely young man.”

“How does it feel to have a daughter and grandson in f1?” Martin asked in a serious tone.

“Amazing. I’m super proud of both of them.”

“Thank you ladies for your time. Have a wonderful day.” Martin smiled at them, but before he could leave, y/n gave him a hug goodbye.

“Take care, Martin!” Y/n waved to the man and left with her mom and Lucy.

“She wins everything. Give her all the trophies. Everything is hers.” Martin said to the camera.

The final clip was consisted of y/n after a race getting interviewed.

“Do you often see your father?” Someone asked from the back.

“No, actually we’re just good friends.”

“What’s your opinion on the president of the United States?” Asked the same person.

“I don’t think about him.”

“What’s going on between max verstappen and lewis hamilton?”

“I don’t know, I just work here.”

[cowchickenbeefpork]

i genuinely just want to hear criticism of the shows not meaningless gibbering about how bad it is and being unwilling to hear any rebuttal for why someone may like that moment. i came her since I wanted to see rewrites and genuine good critique backed up by moments from the show. SO MANY OF YOU PEOPLE JUST WANNA SHIT ON THE SHOW JUST BECAUSE I AM TIRED OF ITTTTTTT YOU PEOPLE ACT LIKE FUCKING CHILDERN I HAVE HAD ITTTTTTTTTTTTT

it genuinely sucks being in a fandom that's an "anti" fandom

[kierongillen]

General Player Advice For RPGs

I published this in my newsletter here a while back, and discourse reminded me I wanted to put it more public. I probably should get around to actually doing a proper blog for this kind of stuff. You can sign up to the newsletter here.

One of the things which I’ve been chewing over since getting back into RPGs is that there’s so much advice for GMs and so little advice for players. I keep thinking over why - though the whys aren’t what I’m about to write about. However, some other folk think any worthwhile advice is system/genre specific.

This got me chewing over whether I agree with that. As the list below shows, I don’t.

The first four are ones where I think I succeeded, and as principles generally guide you towards better play no matter what game you’re playing. The last three are mainly applicable to games with a significant story component (the last especially). There’s a few more I played with, but they were more about being a good at the table generally – about being a better player in any game rather than specifically about role-playing games. I also avoided ones which were more GM-and-player advice rather than just player advice (if there’s a problem in game, communicate out of game, use appropriate safety tools, etc).

I also didn’t include “Buy The GM Stuff”.

Anyway – here they are. See what you think.

GENERAL PLAYER PRINCIPLES FOR BETTER PLAY

1) Make choices that support the table’s creative goals

If you’re playing a storygame, don’t treat it like a tactical wargame. If you’re playing a tactical wargame, don’t treat it like a storygame. If it’s bleak horror, don’t make jokes. If you’re in a camp cosy romp, don’t bring in horror. It also varies from moment to moment – if someone’s scene is sincere, don’t undercut it.

2) Be A Fan of The Other Characters

This is GM advice in almost all Powered By the Apocalypse games – for the GM to be a fan of the characters. It’s a good trait for a player to cultivate. Be actively excited and interested in the other characters’ triumphs and disasters. Cheer them on. Feel for them. Players being excited for other players always makes the game better. Players turning off until it’s their turn always makes it worse.

3) Be aware of the amount of spotlight time you’re taking

This is a hard one for fellow ADHD-ers, but have an awareness of who is speaking more and who is speaking less. A standard GM skill is moving spotlight time around to players who have had less time. Really good players do this too. Pass the ball.

4) Learn what rules apply to you, to smooth the game, not derail it.

To stress, this isn’t “come to the table knowing everything” but learning the rules that are relevant to your character along the way, especially if they are marginal (looking at you, Grappling and Alchemy rules). Doing otherwise adds to the facilitator’s cognitive load and hurts the game’s flow. The flip is being aware that knowing stuff isn’t an excuse to break the game’s flow with a rules debate either – that’s an extension of the third principle.

5) Make choices which support other characters’ reality

If someone’s playing a scary bastard, treat them like a scary bastard. If they’re meant to be the leader, have your character treat them like the leader , for better or worse. A fictional reality is shared, and you construct it together.

6) Ensure The Group Understands Who Your Character Is

This is the flip of the above – having a character conception that is clear enough that everyone gets who you are, what you want to do and how you want to do it. If you don’t, the table will be incapable of supporting your choices. This links to…

7) If asked a preference in a story game, a strong choice is almost always better than a middling choice.

Don’t equivocate. If asked “You’ve met this person before. How do you feel about him?” either “I love him” or “I hate him” is better than anything middling. The exception is if it’s something you’re really not interested in pursuing.

[wizashcs]

Hi hi

May I ask for some spicy stuff where the s/o starts teasing some boys in front of their man/crew? You can take is as you like ~

With Crocodile , Iceburg (He dosn't get enough love), Sanji? Ty ty

Well, well, well… If I have to work with Sanji I really should put on my apron. Sure thing, hon! I’ll do some jealous men for you!;)

One Piece Headcanons - Jealousy

Characters: Sanji, Crocodile, Iceburg

cw.: jealousy, revenge, possesive thoughts/speaking, voyeurism, slight degradation, fingering, oral fem!receiving, oral male!recieving

fem! s/o

(These will be more like scenarios, because no way I can write these shortened💀)

Sanji

You might be used to Sanji’s flirty behaviour towards women by now, however it doesn’t mean it makes you less annoyed. Since you two are together, Sanji shows true love to you, and avoids talking to other women the way he used to. Still, his love and respect towards them becomes a little too much here and there, and he’s not smart enough to notice it in time sometimes. One day, you had enough. When you stopped at a smaller island to buy some goods for the next cruise, you’ve met a few guys around your age at the docks, selling fish and other sea creatures for pretty high prices. Suddenly, a little mean lightbulb lit up above your head. You thought if you used your female charms, you might even get a little bit of a discount on some products, and at the same time, you could teach your dumb man a little bit of a lesson.

You walked towards the salesmen, putting on your kindest smile and honeyed words. Sanji immediately noticed your quick disappearance, he obviously started looking around to find you. You never leave without a word, and that made him worried. And then, he saw you, talking to those men. Oh those men must pay for getting around you, when you’re all by yourself, without him to protect you. You’ve successfully persuaded those boys to give you some of the fish cheaper, when all of the sudden, Sanji appeared beside you. A lit cigarette hung out of his mouth, his eyes looked annoyed, but to you, he spoke sweet like honey.

“You okay, lovely?.” He said, and looked at the merchant. “What’ya you lookin’ at, making the fish rot in the sun? Go and do you job.”

“Sanji… I was doing business.” You murmured, but he was too busy started arguing with the fishermen by now.

“We can talk about that on the ship later, alright apple pie?~ I’ll finish the business for you.”

You let out a heavy sigh, but in the inside, you kind of had your fun. Seeing him looking at those poor guys with his anger filled eyes just because he became jealous of them, talking to you. Your plan worked, but you’re not that mean to not bring up the subject again. Sanji came back to the ship around fifteen minutes later, with a basket of fish… He really finished the business instead of you.

You walked to the kitchen, so you could speak your concerns too, and possibly apologize for your behaviour as well. Sanji was in the kitchen, chopping up some vegetables for lunch, when you entered. He seemed bothered, but he still smiled at you when you appeared.

“Lunch will be ready in two hours, but if you’re hungry I can make you a quick snack, love.”

“You’re the snack itself.” You joked, and hugged him from behind, pressing a kiss on his back. “You know, when those guys gathered around me… I started it.”

Sanji went silent for a bit, and wiped his hands into a clean kitchen rag.

“Even if a woman starts ‘something’, it’s not right to gather around her like that… That must have been scary for you.” You could hear his voice is disappointed, but he didn’t start blaming you, not even a little bit. Your stomach clenched from feeling guilt, so you continued.

“I was trying to get some discount with honeyed words, and… There was a little bit of revenge towards you.”

Sanji turned around this time. He seemed worried. He believed he messed up something hard, and the worst part was that he didn’t know how.

“What? Did I do something wrong, love?”

“Not that wrong!” You tried reassuring. “It’s just sometimes you’re still too kind to other women… It made me feel jealous and I kinda wanted to make you as well…”

“Oh, mon chérie, oh no–” He breathed out, before leaning towards you to kiss your forehead. “I swear to you, I will be more careful with my words… I didn’t mean to hurt you, or make you think you’re not enough. You’re everything I have, and I shall show it to you every day, every way possible… Forgive me.”

“Sanji–“ You spoke his name out of surprise, as he fell on his knees down at your feet, hugging your legs and burying his face into your skirt.

“Darling, I’m begging you on my knees,” He pleaded, and looked up to you with his ever loving eyes. He was desperate to make up to the mistakes he did. “let me please you, right here and now. Let me make it up to you.”

“Sweetheart, it’s fine, you don’t have to– We are in the kitchen!” You tried to reason with him, but there was no use. He wanted this.

“Please.” He whispered, as he started pulling your skirt up, so he could reach your thighs with his mouth. He began to kiss the inner part of your thigh, his fingers gripped your skirt tightly. You didn’t want him to stop, each time he pleaded you to let him eat you out, it got a little harder to think. Eventually, you gave in. He grabbed your panties with his teeth, pulling it down all the way on your legs, until it hit the ground. He teasingly kissed around your womanhood, on that little straight line that separates your pussy from your thighs, and then, down again on your legs. He wanted to show you how appreciated you and all of your body’s hidden treasures are.

“I love you. I promise I’ll cherish you the way you deserve it, my love.” He kissed the words into your thighs, just right before he leaned to your wet cunt so he could finally give you everything he can to make you forgive. His tounge immediately found your favorite spot and speed, because he remembers everything you previously told and showed him about your preferences. You moaned his name quietly, grabbing into his blonde tufts, pleading for him not to ever stop. It only made him even more eager and confident to take you the stars. Don’t expect that you’re going to walk out of the kitchen on your own legs. The number of the orgasms you will get because of him in the next thirty minutes will make your feet go so shaky, that you won’t be able to walk without getting suspicious.

Crocodile

There was a meeting with greater influence at Baroque Works. Your husband, the Warlord Crocodile himself wasn’t paying much attention to you for a few days, since this occassion was a pretty important one. Men and women with high influence gathered to talk through political events, future plans and statistics, with the company of ridiculously expensive champagne and wine. You’ve always hated these kinds of meetings. You’re not important and feared enough to catch anyone’s attention by your power, but Crocodile insists on you to be there at all times, even while he knows you hate these occassions. The truth was, he loved showing you off the people. He loved the feeling that he could make everyone know that a beauty like you, belongs to him, and him only.

Meanwhile Crocodile enjoyed the evening with the people you barely heard about in your lifetime, you sat on your reserved chair, wondering about how much you just want to leave the room and do anything better, than this. You were bored, and a little annoyed at Crocodile as well. He spent long days ignoring you, because all he cared about in the last few weeks was his work, and this meeting. You usually understood how busy he was, but you hated how you were used on these events. Just a wife image? A trophy? The bare thought of it frustrated you. Out of your boredom, or annoyance, a childish idea run into your mind. You stood up from your chair and walked across the room to a man you never even heard about. It didn’t matter how he looked like or what he was doing here, you just wanted him to play a role for a game you wanted to entertain yourself with, (and possibly fill your husband up with anger). Even though he didn’t pay much attention to you on these meetings, sometimes his eyes wandered to you, just for a quick check that you’re there at all. It happened just like this as well, when he noticed you chatting with a man. You chuckled at his unfunny jokes, touched the man’s arm playfully. He didn’t understand your unusual behaviour, but it was sure as hell he didn’t like what he saw.

In that moment, he didn’t care about the subject of the conversation he was having with someone, he left without a word just to reach you.

“You may leave now.” He spoke to you, and you looked up to him, smiling smugly as a fox.

“But I’m having so much fun, darling.”

“I bet you do.” He replied quickly as he grabbed your hand tightly. He looked at the man you were small talking just yet, and told him to piss off, while he was dragging you out of the room. “I don’t want you here causing trouble for me. We’re going to talk about this later.”

You shrugged your shoulders, without a feeling of any responsibility. Honestly, you were a little satisfied too. He deserved a little bit of a reality check by now.

A few hours have passed, and you sat at your desk, reading some book your husband gave you for your birthday. It was one that you were longing to read for years, but it’s so rare because of the lack of copies that he had to spend months researching until he could buy you one of those few. You loved this book dearly, because it always reminded you how much you’re in love with eachother, despite every stupid arguements. You were two pages from the next chapter, when your door opened, and Crocodile came in.

“How was your night, dear?” You asked, not looking up from your book.

“Quit this attitude, until I have my patience.” He said, throwing off his heavy, black furcoat from his shoulders to his chair.

“Yeah, everything is about you, no one cares about my patience!” You choked out and closed your book. You stood now on your feet and started walking to your shared bed, when he caught you by your wrist.

“Your patience? How many hours of work did you put in this project so it could happen, huh?” You shrugged your shoulder again. “No hours, yet there was a place for you at my table, you could participate in such an important event.”

“Oh, don’t make me laugh, Crocodile! You only tolerate me on your dumb meetings, because that would mean you could show off how hot stuff your wife’s made of. What? Is it a problem if I show off my body by myself?” In that sudden moment, he caught your chin with his hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Do you hear yourself when you say such stupidity? You vowed yourself to me. Your body, your mind and soul belongs to me.”

You couldn’t help but get excited at his words…You were frustrated, angry, but never scared. After all, being his was all you had. Your voice became emotionally shaky once you started speaking again:

“Yes… And for that, I did this. All because I wanted you to see me, to have your attention on me. You don’t know how hard it is to deal with you and your work sometimes. I don’t even know when was the last time you actually looked in my way.”

Your bold words caught him by surprise. He took the burnt cigar out of his mouth and pressed it against an ashtray on his desk. Then, he began to laugh, while he walked to you again. He pulled you to your bedroom’s huge window and pressed your back against the cold glass.

“My attention?” He leaned down to your ear, so he could whisper. There was something in his quiet voice that messed up your mind. You wanted him so bad, now more than ever. It was so damn long you could feel his scent in your nose. “Don’t worry, you certainly will have that, after all your hard ‘work’… Now turn around, and bend over.”

What he said caught you off guard… Did he really get aroused from all this? You slowly turned around, and pressed your palms against the window you were standing by. You arched your back like a cat towards him, obeying his words. It was as quick as lightning when he used his hook to tear off the panties you had on until now. The expensive, laced fabric simply fall on the ground, and no one ever talked about them. You didn’t really have time to react to that anyway, because the next thing you felt was two of his fingers pushing their way inside your pussy without any warning. You squirmed and whined by his rough fingers moving inside you, rubbing mercilessly against your sweet spot. As you moved around, he pressed your back down with his hook to keep you in place, and so you could arch your ass a little more for him.

“Quiet. I don’t want anyone to notice how you’re getting fucked until passing out, but at least you can enjoy the thought of being seen. Isn’t this what you wanted, my dear?”

Iceburg

(This will be funny af because the man’s whole career is a headcanon.)

This happened back in the days when you and Iceburg were yet just a couple. His hair was longer back then, but the beard on his chin grew strongly. You loved Iceburg dearly, and he felt the same way towards you. We could say you were pretty popular pair, everyone knew you two were dating for years now. He was young, and worked as a shipwright with a guild. You were always supporting towards him, though you didn’t really have experience on how to do this work, however bringing lunch for him and his colleagues was enough, and very appreciated.

It was a similar hard day for him in work, so you prepared a bunch of food for him and the men he worked with. Though, when you arrived to the workplace, your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. You asked around his coworkers, but no one could say anything more than “He was here a minute ago.” You didn’t start worrying by that, of course, especially since you liked the men he was working with, you thought it would be fun to just talk to them a little until Iceburg arrives back. You gave some of the lunch you prepared for the workers, whom were happy to have you for at least a chat while they take a break. Since you were a fine lady, some of the guys tried to flirt, but there was someone who was showing off his abs to you. To say the truth, you became actually pretty amazed by seeing how big his arms were, so you asked him if you could touch it.

The mean leaned closer to you with his arm, and you gently rubbed it. That was the exact moment when your boyfriend arrived.

“What’s happening here?” He asked, and you flinched, putting your hands away in an instant.

“Baby, finally! Where have you been?” You asked him as you hurried up to him, but he was too worked up with the thing he just saw a few moments ago.

“I saw a turtle walking around the streets and I put it back to the water where it was safe… But honey, why were you touching that idiot’s arm? You don’t love me anymore?” He asked you with serious concern.

“Of course I do, babe, I was just surprised by how big his arm is… I know this sounds dumb like that, but there was nothing more to it.” Not only you, but the workers as well tried reassuring their boss to not worry, which seemed to work.

Half of an hour later you went back home to his house, so you could wait for him there until his shift was over for the day. Around four hours have passed when the front door opened, and Iceburg stepped in the house with a giant teddy bear in his arms.

“Honey, I brought you this bear. Promise you still love me?” He asked, tucking the teddy bear into your arms without further questions. You had to drop everything you had in your hands just so you could hold the surprising gift.

“Iceburg, where have you got this? I told you that I love you, you shouldn’t have bought this for me… Where do I even put it?”

He crossed his arms and looked around the house:

“I don’t know yet, I didn’t think about that. Once I get rich there won’t be a problem with it because we’ll have much more room.”

Sometimes you just had to let his reasons go, he won’t take that giant plushie back to the store, and you couldn’t even ask him to anyway. You put the teddy down on the floor, and turned to him to kiss him. He hugged you by your waist, embracing you tightly to him. You knew his previous concerns were true, he was a sensitive type ever since you knew him.

“I love you, baby.” You murmured between your kisses. “There’s no way I could love anyone more like you, you know.”

“I know…I’m sorry I became jealous.” He kissed your ear as he leaned down to you, wandering to your cheek and mouth with his lips. You felt like you wanted to show you more of how you love and appreciate him. You pressed your palm on his chest, pushing him a little backwards so he would sit down on the couch you had in your livingroom. You sat on his lap, while your hands began to unbutton his shirt.

“What are you doing, honey?” He asked with a pinch of blush on his face.

“Just making you sure that you have no reason to be jealous.” Your smile widened as you started drawing circles on one of his nipples with your thumb. You could feel his erection grow in his pants, and you couldn’t help but begin to move your hips back and forth carefully, rubbing your hungry pussy against his rock hard cock. He sighed quietly, pulling you into a kiss by tucking his fingers in your hair. His dark red lipstick left stains on your mouth, and you loved it every time.

As your passionate kiss deepened, you unzipped his pants, and crawled out of his lap, kneeling down in front of him. You looked up to his messy, blushing face, as you helped his cock out of the tight pants he was trapped in. You stroked it gently, giving it a little bit of lubricant with your saliva.

“I’ll give you the head of your life, babe.” You whispered as you finally took it in your mouth, moving your tounge on his tip desperately. His quiet moans and sighs filled your brain, keeping you motivated to get more of his sweet reactions out of him. His fingers squeezed your hairtufts tightly, but careful enough not to hurt you.

“I love you, (y/n).” He groaned out your name, as he reached for your free hand to hold you. You locked your fingers together, meaning that you two are there for eachother. No matter how many people you cross the streets, no matter how long you’re apart from eachother. You’re always there, and no one can tear you apart.

[scribefindegil]

Lorraine Baines McFly and Female Autonomy

Hello. I have spent the past month slowly losing my mind about Lorraine Baines McFly, Marty's mom in Back to the Future, so I am finally trying to articulate some of the reasons I'm so feral about her.

There's a quote from Lea Thompson, the actress who played Lorraine, that goes, "The three parts that women usually get to play are virgins, whores, and mothers, and in Back to the Future Part II, I got to play all three." While this is commentary on Hollywood and the limited roles that fictional women get forced into, I think it's also interesting to think about it in terms of how these roles are reflected onto actual women and used to limit their personhood and confine them to a very narrow range of acceptable behaviors . . . and then in turn to think about how the character interacts with these roles on a Watsonian level. They're affecting not just Lorraine the character as she was written, but Lorraine from an in-universe perspective trying to navigate life as a woman in a patriarchal world. Some of the sexism she faces is a deliberate narrative choice and some of it is a result of the writers' blind spots, but for the purpose of this essay I'm less interested in teasing out which threads are which and more in looking at it holistically.

Because the thing about Lorraine is that she's aware of what the acceptable roles and behaviors for women are, and the versions that we see of her across the various timelines alternately fight against and capitulate to these constraints. What is a woman allowed to be? How much is Lorraine willing to break from those restrictions? How much does she allow other women to break from them? Does she resent her role or embrace it? I have a lot of thoughts specifically about how the different iterations of her interact with concepts of female agency and autonomy.

(Putting this under a cut because it is. Long.)

I started thinking about this when I was talking with my partner about 50's Lorraine. She's extremely active and driven and planning to Get What She Wants (in a way that is very scary, if you are Marty) . . . but at the same time she's clearly aware that she isn't supposed to be. A Good Fifties Girl is demure and passive. Lorraine isn't--but she's still trying to toe the line. I think constantly about the scene where she shows up at Doc's garage to be like "I followed you home . . . so that I can ask you to ask me to the dance." The girl can embrace borderline stalking but she draws the line at directly asking a boy out! She's exercising a lot of agency but views doing so as rebellious and subversive--and risky.

And I also want to talk about the whole "boy crazy" thing because like . . . society (especially in the fifties) tells women that the most important thing they can possibly do is find a good man and become wives and mothers, that this will define the success or failure of their entire lives (and given how many things were unavailable to single women at the time this is in many ways true) . . . and then relentlessly mocks and punishes anyone who actually takes an interest in pursuing this instead of just sitting back passively and waiting. She is trying to do what society says will make her happy! And even her desire for a white knight is very much based in the reality of her situation! She's getting sexually harassed at school and around town and she's doing exactly what she's supposed to and standing up for herself and saying no and fighting back--and this is not enough. She does need backup! Biff harasses her in the middle of a crowded cafeteria and Marty is the ONLY person who does anything! No fucking wonder she latches onto him as hard as she does! (There's. I promise this is related but there's a BttF parody musical on YouTube where when Strickland comes to break up the lunchroom fight he says, "Now, I can excuse sexual harassment, but LIGHT SHOVING?" and like it's a haha funny joke but also?? Yeah?? That IS how it works. The way Lorraine's being treated is so overlooked and normalized that the authority figure isn't going to step up the way he will when it's a physical altercation between two guys. Screams.) I wonder if part of the reason she stuck with George in the original timeline even though they didn't have a lot in common is that "I have a boyfriend" is a boundary that some people might actually take seriously whereas "I'm not interested" is not.

But. In general 50's Lorraine is very much about grabbing as much agency as she feels she's allowed to . . . and then Twin Pines Lorraine is what happens when she regrets the result of those choices (because while we don't see it, it's pretty obvious that in the original timeline she pursued George as aggressively as she pursues Marty in the new one), and so she decides to deny, not just her own agency, but female agency as a general concept. She leans so heavily on the idea that her relationship was "meant to be" because it absolves her of any culpability in creating a life she's unhappy with. She's rewritten her own past to view herself as a passive participant in something inevitable. (Exactly the view of womanhood that she was fighting so hard against in the 50's!) And she extends this idea of female passivity to the women around her: telling Linda that she should sit back and wait and a relationship will "just happen," actively resenting Jennifer for doing something as simple as calling Marty on the phone. It's a really interesting form of internalized misogyny, perpetuating these sexist ideas as almost a misguided form of self-defense.

And then for Lone Pine Lorraine this is completely flipped! She loves Jennifer for the same reason she disliked her in Twin Pines: because she reminds Lorraine of her younger self. And like . . . this is something of an extrapolation, but while obviously her husband and kids are still very important to her, it also feels like she has interests and friends and other things going on in her life, whereas part of the isolation of Twin Pines is that her life has shrunk down to the point where she's ONLY a wife and mother with nothing else to define herself by. And it also matters that in this timeline she has a partner that supports her, not just in the big dramatic moments (although also that), but you can easily see the dance as a catalyst for George actually learning to listen to her and stand up for her about smaller things as well. George McFly feminism arc. (I'm being slightly facetious but like. George starts off kind of shitty. The spying is actively Bad and I hope Marty chewed him out for it offscreen, but also his reaction to the harassment scene being "I think there's someone else she'd rather go with," implying that he sees what Biff is doing as like. Normal flirting that he expects to work. He doesn't GET it. Unsurprising because he is. A teenage boy in the fifties. But I do believe that saving Lorraine was something of a wakeup call and after that he listened to her about things that make her uncomfortable and gave her the support that she needed. Which would also give her a lot more freedom in this timeline because she has someone with more societal power who has her back!)

And then. Hell Valley.

If Lone Pine is the version of Lorraine who has the most freedom, the most opportunities to make decisions based on what she wants instead of What Is Expected Of A Woman, Hell Valley is the opposite. The things denying her agency in Twin Pines is largely societal forces (and herself); in Hell Valley she is actively being denied autonomy by her evil husband who functions as the personification of a bunch of sexist ideas.

She's been objectified to the point that she doesn't maintain control over her own body; Biff pressures her to get cosmetic surgeries so she can continue to look attractive to him because that's the only value he sees in her. Her physical appearance is entirely tailored to his preferences.

Biff's view of Lorraine is wife-as-possession. He treats her like a prize he's won and her kids like parasites. And he is NOT subtle about this. But Lorraine is still desperately clinging to the idea that she's wife-as-family. She calls Biff "your father" to Marty when he arrives, and talks about "our children" because she wants so so badly for this to be something different than what it is. It's especially terrible because this is a timeline where she got seventeen years of being happy with George, she knows what she's missing, and she keeps trying to force this new relationship into a similar mold even though Biff is openly contemptuous of her and especially her kids. It's been twelve years and she's still trying to pretend. To call back to that Lea Thompson quote: it's obvious where Biff thinks Lorraine fits on the virgin-mother-whore axis, while Lorraine is actively trying to centralize her motherhood partially because the kids really are that important to her and partially as a defense mechanism.

(And it's also such a bleak cautionary tale about how fragile women's stability can be when they're dependent on their husbands; Lorraine was happy with George and had a fair amount of freedom, but he was the only one with an income so when he died she was suddenly forced into a truly horrific situation because she had no other means to support herself and her three young children. Especially given that the Hell Valley universe is also worse in some broader political ways that mean there were probably even fewer social supports available than in real life 1973)

And god. It kills me the way that we see her lash out, the way she's clawing for autonomy when she threatens to leave . . . and then exactly how Biff levels all his axes of control against her. It's very interesting that his first tactic is consumerist (Who will pay for all your things? Who will take care of you?) and that doesn't work even though not being able to support herself is a very real concern. It's only when he threatens her kids that she folds. And then she immediately crumples and pivots to rationalizing Biff's behavior and blaming herself for her own abuse (in a way that is both HEARTBREAKING and also? surprisingly sympathetic and realistic for an 80's movie?). It's similar to the passivity we see in Twin Pines, but here we see exactly where it comes from. She doesn't have any way out so she has to pretend. It's the only way she can keep going. She has these flashes of rage but they're immediately snuffed out by despair and denial.

There's not a lot of talk about Lorraine and what there is tends to reduce her to "well she's Marty's mom" as if she's a boring character who doesn't have a lot going on. But even though most of her role in the movies has to do with her relationships with the various men in her life, those relationships are really interesting if you actually pay attention to them! She's not just (in the 80's) a wife and mother--she's someone who has a complex relationship with marriage and motherhood and the societal expectations surrounding them. She's not just (in the 50's) a vapid boy-crazy girl--she's doing her best to go after what she wants in a world that doesn't want her to (the fact that one of the things she wants turns out to be her time-traveling son from the future is unfortunate but not something she has any way of knowing!). She's stuck in a society that doesn't want women to be people, and she knows this, and because we see her across two different time periods and three different timelines you can watch how sometimes society grinds her down until she gives in and tries not to be a person. And also how, sometimes, she fights back.

[admirationandromantics]

Best Friend's Brother

This request is literally 10 days old, which, to some, might not seem as a long time. For me however, it is. I'm sorry, but as I've described, I'm just trying to balance writing and school right now, so I'll be writing a little less than before.

Word count: 1,6k (unedited)

could u write a best friend older brother trope josh x reader. luv you works btww xx -anon

I knock on the door, waiting for Beth to open up. We’d planned a movie night while her parents were gone, and Hannah was at Sam’s. Josh was still home, but she told me he wouldn’t be a bother, and would probably stay in his room the whole night. 

I have met him many times before, and would even call us friends. Though at the same time, I often wonder if he looks at me like another baby sister, despite only being one year apart. He often gives me a hard time, teasing me and joking around, but most times, I don’t mind. I usually also hope that he never means anything with his small occasional comments, because nothing will happen either way. My best friend’s brother? That would be a problem just waiting to happen. 

Josh and I have been drunk together, partied together and been on get togethers together, though I’m not familiar with everyone in their group yet. 

I stand outside, my patience running low in the cold weather, wishing I brought a scarf. I hear footsteps coming from inside. Finally. The door unlocks, and a broad, tan Josh in a thin rolled up sweater and some sweatpants stands there, arm against the doorframe. He gives a small smile, looking me over. 

“Well, look who decided to come while the parents are out” he coos, a small whistling sound coming out of his lips. 

“Well, hello Joshua, care to let me in?” 

He smiles, contemplating whether to make this difficult or not. I look around, sighing and waiting for an answer, thinking about shouting Beth’s name and telling her that her brother is being a prick. Luckily, he opens the door further, making space for me to walk inside. “Thank you” I say, trying to hide my smile a bit. I’ve been here many times before, so I immediately know where to hang my coat and leave everything else. Josh keeps standing there, watching me. 

“Beth is out, said something about getting snacks for your movie night” He explains, and I nod. The store is not far from here, so she will probably be back soon. 

“Well then, do you know which movie she’s got planned?”

“Of course I do, I’m the one who helps pick them out”

I give him a curious and sceptical look, not having heard this before. He keeps his gaze locked on my gaze, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

“Have you?” 

“Every time” 

My mouth opens a little. Beth is always talking about her great taste in movies, never having mentioned this before. 

“No, are you serious? Beth has never given you any credit”

“Little sisters… what do you expect?” 

I hum, not knowing how to respond to that. I walk inside, him following closely as I sit myself by the kitchen counter. 

“So, what movie have you chosen then?” I ask, looking up at him again. Instead of sitting, he just leans against the counter with one arm, body turned my way. I can’t help my gaze, looking over his revealed forearms. 

“Something a bit different than usual…” he smirks, eyes following my gaze down to his arms. I break free, leaning forward a bit. 

“Okay, what movie?” 

“A scary one” 

“No”

“Oh yes” 

I whine, leaning back again. I hate scary movies, I hate jumpscares and gore. Why can’t people just like normal, funny, cozy stuff? 

“Josh, are you serious?”

“And there we go, you’re starting to use my nickname” 

“Joshua! Are you serious?”

“Well, that lasted for long”

I sigh, rolling my eyes. This is not how I want to spend my night, and considering that the walk home will be dark and scary, this movie will definitely fuel my fears. 

“Hey, calm down, it’s a good movie, maybe you just haven’t seen a good scary movie yet, this one might change your mind about the whole genre” He smiles, a hand going to my arm. I can't help the small blush coming from the touch, his fingers warm and comforting. I don’t want to do this, but I really can’t object when Beth is the one getting everything ready, and I just need to show up and have a good time. Or pretend I’m having a good time. 

The door opens, and his hand is immediately removed as Beth comes in, a big bag in her hands. She doesn’t notice me at first. 

“Beth!” I exclaim, and she lifts her head, nose a little red from the cold outside. 

“Hey, oh sorry, I didn’t have time to go earlier today” 

“That’s completely fine, here, let me take it” I state, walking over and taking the bag from her hands as she starts undressing. 

“My brother didn’t bother you?” 

I look over at him, and he just gives a small laugh, shaking his head and putting his hands up defensively. 

“No, he was fine” 

“Good, now, let's go” She smiles, leading me away from him, into their living room. She finds a couple of bowls, letting me distribute the snack in them as she works on getting the movie going. 

“Okay, so I know you’re not a scary movie-person, but I know this one is really good, so please, keep an open mind” 

I laugh a little, thinking back on the fact that Josh is the one who actually picked this out. 

“I’ll keep an open mind then” 

“Great” 

The movie starts, and we both sit down, a blanket over us as the lights dim. At first, the movie seems fine, the occasional jump scare, which scares me much more than it does Beth. Still, I keep watching, body tense and uncomfortable, but I can’t take my eyes off it. We’re in the middle when someone gets violently cut up, and the camera doesn’t bother to show us anything else than the blood and flesh flying everywhere, the gore not stopping. I take a breath, pulling my eyes from the screen and standing up. 

“I just need to use the bathroom”

“Gonna puke?”

I laugh a little, the tension in my shoulders easing as she talks. 

“No, but if there’s no important information in this sequence, please feel free to skip it, I'll be quick” I say, already making my way to the yellow-lighted hallway. It's light, in contrast to the room I was just in, and that makes me ease up a little more. Gosh, if this was to keep going, I wouldn’t dare walking home tonight. 

Suddenly, I hear a click, and the light goes away, leaving me in the dark hallway. I stop, looking around, unsure about what just happened. Another breath escapes my lips, reminding me that I can’t keep holding my breath everytime something startling happens. The hallway looks empty both ways, so I continue further, crossing my fingers that the light in the bathroom at least works. 

Before I can react, a couple of strong arms grab me from behind, caging me. I’m about to yell out, but as if anticipating it, the hand goes over my mouth, muffling my screams. I’m slammed into the wall, not too hard, luckily, but I close my eyes before the impact arrives. As I open them again, a smiling Josh is standing in front of me, biting his lips to hold in his laugh. My heart is still beating fast, breaths coming in and out in a rapid manner. I grab his hand roughly, dragging it off my mouth. 

“Joshua Washington! Are you fucking insane??” 

He bursts out laughing, arms against the wall beside me, holding himself up as he leans over. I shake my head, mouth still a little open in shock, whilst he can’t stop laughing. 

“Maybe, but you should’ve seen your face!” He chuckles, one of his hands going to his stomach to compose himself. It’s probably hurting right now from all the laughter. 

“Joshua! What the hell is wrong with you!?” 

“Okay, okay, calm down, just a little prank on my part” He smiles, finally calming down. 

“I have been watching a fucking horror movie, and you pull this shit?”

He bites his lip again, tilting his head a bit to examine me. 

“Oh, come on now, you’re totally thinking it’s funny” 

“No, I’m not” 

“Or you’re into it or something…”

“Wait, what, no I’m not, what kind of sick-”

Before I can process what’s happening, his lips are on me. I feel his breath, his body close, soft lips moving ove mine. My heart is still beating rapidly, but oddly enough, it calms with the way he’s touching me. Tender and carefully, not like himself at all. His hand goes to my waist, body pressing mine into the wall, opening his mouth a little. I hear a little groan leaving his throat. He pulls away, faces close as his eyes go over me, looking up and down. I almost think he looks a little vulnerable, but his signature smirk finds its way to his lips again. 

“Well then, calmer now?” 

I look at him, confused, conflicted. I scoff, shaking my head a bit. 

“No, I think I need a little more help” I state, hand going to the back of his neck, pulling him into me again. Capturing his lips on mine, already opening my mouth. He does the same, one hand on my hips, pulling me into him. 

“Hey, finished in the bathroom soon? I’ve paused the movie, the gore is over!” Beth shouts from the living room. We both pull away from each other and look over to the living room, luckily not seeing her there. I look back at him, seeing his chest heaving, hot breaths coming from his mouth. He turns, looking into my eyes. 

“Guess we better finish calming you down later” He smiles, pushing himself off me and the wall, walking back to his room. 

Fuck, what have I gotten myself into?

[wynn-43]

lee minho ~ so tight i'd bruise you

lee minho x gn! reader song: Wild Blue Yonder wc: 4.6k (sorry) warnings: very suggestive at one point (highlighted by °˖✧✿✧˖°), numerous sex jokes (like so many), non-idol AU, they're so in love, strangers to lovers, swearing, reader gets miagranes, mentions of not great friends, they get engaged, scary films, this is so cheesy and silly a/n: red hair lino... the things i'd do for you... anyways! next installment of my The Amazing Devil series!

31st of May, 2019

The lights were so bright, each vibrant flash of RBG dizzying you further. Your head hurt, the pain throbbing in beat with the obnoxiously loud music. You tried to find an exit, some way out of this swirling mass of people, who were sticking together with sweat and spilt drinks.

You stumble around, eyes unfocused as you somehow spot the red-brick of the wall behind the bar. You make your way towards it, narrowly avoiding multiple drunk girls running towards the bathrooms.

You manage to find a seat at the bar, leaning your elbows against the bartop and closing your eyes, trying to block out the light.

“You okay?” You vaguely hear a voice quietly ask.

You blink your eyes open and once your eyes adjust, you’re met with the face of a beautiful man. His dark cherry hair complimented his glowing skin and his deep brown eyes were cat-like– sharp, slightly slanted and full of curiosity. A slight smirk rested on his rosy lips and despite his confident aura, you could see a soft pink blush dusting his neck and ears as you stared at him.

“Hello?” He asked, starling you out of your staring.

“Uh yeah.” You're interrupted by a jolt of pain in your head. “No. No I am not.” You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Oh” He says, obviously surprised by your honesty. “Do you need to go outside?”

“Mhm.” You hum, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Do you need help?” He asks, an odd softness in his voice for someone he just met.

“Uh yes please.” You said, opening your eyes again, wincing at the sudden light change.

“Okay, I will be right there, one second.” He says before rushing off.

All of a sudden he’s at your side, gently taking your elbow and guiding you towards an exit.

The rush of cold air combined with the quieting of the music and the absence of obscenely loud music immediately make you feel better- with the pain quieting down to a gentle thrum every so often.

“So are you okay? You looked really pale back there.” The boy softly asked, eyes focused on you with a mix of concern and inquisitiveness.

“Uh yeah. Migraine. Sorry. Thank you for helping, you can uh, go back if you need.” You fumble, looking to the ground to avoid his beautiful face.

“I took five so it’s all good. Plus, my boss would kill me if anything happened to a customer.” He laughs nervously. “But seriously, are you sure you’re okay?”

You shuffle, barely looking up to meet his gaze before averting your eyes again. “Uh yeah. I think so. It’s my fault, any sort of loud and flashy parties always trigger my migraines.”

“And yet your friends threw you one anyway…” He says???

“Yeah. Uh- wait, how did you know that?” You ask, making eye contact, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach.

He chuckles, “It’s a small bar, there’s only so many birthdays happening at once.”

“Oh” You laugh.” “Yeah, that makes sense.”

You, you told me I was younger (without you, I'm stronger, I'm no longer) That I was filled with wonder How wrong you were For you, I would have gone so much blonder (my lungs were pulled asunder by)

“Happy 25th Birthday by the way. You’re lucky you're still young and filled with wonder.” He says casually, leaning against the wall.

You laugh. “There’s no way you’re that much older than me.”

“Come on, you’re, what, 30? 35?” you tease, laughing at his look of mock offense.

“I’ll have you know I am 27!” he said indignantly.

“HAH! You’re less than a year older than me! Going on about how and filled with wonder, how wrong you were!” You dramatically taunt, making him laugh.

“Fine, fine you got me there.” Glancing down at his watch, his eyes widened.

“Shoot I have to go back.” he says, pushing himself off the wall. “How are you getting home?” he asks.

“Oh, I was just going to walk,” you pause, noticing his astonished look.

“Absolutely not.” He checks his watch again. “I’m off in 15 minutes. Can you wait that long? Then I’ll drive you home.” You once again notice his neck and ears growing pink, brighter this time.

You smirk, “Oh you wanna take me home?” You tease, mentally noticing how his neck and ears turn a vibrant red.

“I-” he stutters. “I just want you to get home safe or whatever.”

“Well, I appreciate it Mr. Wait what’s your name? You ask.

He smiles, “Minho.”

“Well, thank you Mr. Minho, that would be very much appreciated.” You try to hide your growing smile.

“Okay great, you wait here, I’ll see you in 15.” He says as the door swings open, the sudden assault of flashing lights and loud music makes you flinch as the pain spikes up again.

You press yourself against the wall, gasping for air as it feels like your lungs are being pulled apart. After the door closes, you take a few steadying breaths as the pain subsides. You relish in the feeling of the cold night-air enveloping your skin, the pain dissipating with each gentle breeze.

By the time Minho comes back out the pain is virtually gone, replaced with a slight buzz from the cider you’d drank earlier that evening.

“Thanks for waiting.” Minho smiles upon noticing you standing there, almost as if he was surprised you actually waited.

“Why are you thanking me, you're the one driving me home.” You laugh.

He laughs as he leads you towards his car. You gingerly sit in the passenger seat, trying to be cautious with how nice of a car it was.

“So what’s the address?” he asks as he rests his hand on the back of your seat, looking back to make his way out of the parking space.

You feel your throat dry as butterflies swarm in your stomach and you manage to stutter out your address. Whilst your eyes are fixated on your hands resting in your lap, you’re sure that you can see him smirking in the corner of your eye.

“What’s your name by the way? You never told me.” He inquires after putting your address into the car's GPS.

After you introduce yourself the two of you fall into quiet small talk before he arrives out the front of your small apartment.

“Is this it?” He asks, parking once you nod.

“Thank you so much for driving me here.” You say, before the two of you fall into an awkward silence.

“Uh, do you want to come in?” You ask, blushing furiously once you realise what you said.

If it wasn’t for the dark, you would’ve seen him blush furiously, but despite his flusteredness, he remains calm, smirking. “Sure.”

Seen that wild blue yonder and said, "Let's end this, too" So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes off Grip the bathroom rug my skin's grown so soft (Get a grip, we're grown-ups)

°˖✧✿✧˖°

Next thing you know, you’re pressed against the interior of your front door, his mouth hot and urgent against yours. As his lips trail down your neck, you grab at the blue leather jacket on his shoulders, pulling it off and letting it fall to the floor.

“Just so you know” you gasp as he kisses at your neck “I never do this.”

“Same” he murmurs, momentarily pulling back to breathe.

“No like never” You resist a whine as he pulls back.

“You’re a virgin?” he asks, eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh my god, no!” you exclaim, cheeks burning. “I just mean, I’ve never had a hookup before. I’m not… I just haven’t.”

“Oh,” he smirks, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Then I’m honored to be your first.” He leans in, reclaiming your lips with a smile.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

1st of June, 2019

The next morning you wake up early, shocked at how well you slept. Still groggy, you move to get up, before noticing the weight of an arm draped over you and your memories from last night come flooding back.

You stand up, gently removing Minho’s arm and moving a pillow under it, careful not to wake him. You tiptoe towards the bathroom, quickly getting into the shower, sighing as the hot water hits your skin.

The shower was the one place you felt you could relax and unwind- you always used it as a way to collect your thoughts, the gentle rhythm of the water providing a backing music for your racing thoughts.

You step out of the shower, drying yourself off and reveling in the softness of your skin. You decide to make breakfast, assuming pancakes are a good bet, even if you knew absolutely nothing about the man now laying in your bed.

You’re standing there humming to yourself as you flip the final pancake, mentally preparing yourself for going to wake up and confront the man when you turn, suddenly finding yourself looking at said man.

His hair was fluffy and slightly messy from sleep and the neck of his shirt was sliding down on one side exposing his shoulder. He looked confused and you noticed the pile of his belongings in his hands.

“Oh! Good morning, I was just about to wake you.” You place the pancake down before looking back at him, his expression confused. “Are you leaving already? I thought you might want pancakes.” You try to remain casual with your words.

“I assumed you’d want me gone. I mean I wake up and you’re not there…” Minho trails off, laughing. “But pancakes sound lovely, thank you!”

“Oh no I was just hungry,” you laugh along, trying to relieve some of the awkward tensions between you two. “And I always wake up early,” you add.

“How’d you know I like pancakes?” He enquires some time later, that curious glint returning to his eyes.

“Oh, I just figured it was a safe bet.” You giggle.

“So.” Minho starts, making your heart rate spike with anxiety. “We should probably talk about, uh, this.” He gestures between the two of you.

“Oh right. Yeah, uh, sorry.” You stumble over your words, unsure as to where this was going.

“No! No, don’t apologise.” He says, squeezing your knee under the table. “I just uh- wanted to make things clear y’know.” You nod slowly.

“Um, I don’t, y’know, usually do hookups. But there’s something about you.” You look up, noticing the flush of red on his neck and ears.

“I don’t know. I just feel…” he pauses, making eye contact with you, “drawn to you.”

You feel your face heating up and you clear your throat, “Yeah, no me too.” You swallow hard.

“Like, I know we just met, but, there's something about you…” You look back into his eyes, blushing furiously at the soft look in them.

He laughs at your fluster, “I’m glad it’s not just me!”

There’s a pause for a minute or so.

“So, uh, what now?” You ask, still unsure.

“Well um, are you busy today?” Minho asks, that sly smirk back on his lips.

Let's wander 'til the fuckers demand an encore Flirting (wasn't flirting) at the back of a bookshop Come and rip off my socks like you're blasting the locks off of a bank vault (halt) This time we're done for

The two of you end up spending the day together. You walk around your local shops, grabbing a coffee together and talking about yourselves.

You find out he works as a bartender at night so that he can teach dance and volunteer at the local cat shelter during the day. He has three cats that live with his parents, but he visits them weekly and he really enjoys cooking.

In turn, you tell him about your life, what you do for work and how you ended up here. You tell him about your interests, about your friends and you find out you have a shared love for camping and reading.

The two of you visit a bookshop, one of the cute ones with a coffee shop attached. The two of you walk along the rows and rows of books, pointing out the ones you’ve read and the ones you want to.

You notice him giggling as he holds a book. “What are you doing?” You ask suspiciously as you approach him.

His giggles intensify as he tries to talk. “Ar-are you Brenna Yovanoff? Because I want to get rid of The Space Between Us.” He holds out the book in his hands, showing you a copy of The Space Between, laughing even harder at your dumbfounded expression.

“What- What the fuck” you stumble out, at a loss for words, your reaction making him double over in laughter which then led to you follow him.

You look up, immediately noticing the perfect book in front of you.

You pick it up, careful to hide the title and poke him.

“Hey, hey Minho. Are you The Giver?” You ask, flipping the book around. “Because you sure were last night…” He erupts into another fit of laughter, but you definitely notice a red tinge to his neck and ears.

“Excuse me.” A shop worker came up to the two of you. “Could you please keep it down?” She quietly asked.

“Yes. Sorry miss.” You apologise, quickly putting the books back and elbowing the still-laughing Minho before ushering him out of the shop.

“Okay that one was really good.” Minho says once the two of you have calmed down outside.

“Thank you, thank you. I know. Comedic genius right here.” You fake bow before looking into his eyes, blushing at the fondness in them.

“What are you doing tonight?” He suddenly asks.

“Um,” you pause to think, “nothing I think.”

“Do you want to get dinner together?” Minho asks, the soft pink returning to his ears as he averts his eyes from your gaze. “We could get takeout or I can cook for you?”

“I would love that.” You smile, gasping as you get an idea. “On one condition.”

Let's hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Could be wolves

“I really did not think that your ‘one condition’ would be a pillow fort.” Minho chuckles to you from his place at the stove.

“Well.” You start, pausing to run and grab more pillows. “My original idea was a movie but,” you again pause to move a chair over to create a wall. “I know you only like scary movies, and the only way I would watch a scary movie.” You pause as you struggle to pin the sheets up. “Is in a pillow fort.” You turn to the man, smiling at your successful pillow adventure.

However, you didn’t expect to find the man right in behind you, once you turned he immediately cupped your face, his hold so gentle as if he was holding the world in his hands, before kissing you softly and with so much tenderness.

After he pulled back you were almost dizzy, grabbing onto his arms to stop yourself from falling, making him smirk.

“What was that for?” You ask, confused.

“You were just really cute.” He mumbles. “So, dinner?” He pulls away, that signature smirk on his lips.

So hold me, lover, like you used to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you too Every stone you threw I stood on to better see the view

23rd of November, 2024

“What did we even watch anyways?” you ask, tilting your head to look up at him, your cheek pressed against the rise and fall of his chest.

“Uhh…” He paused, his fingers pausing in your hair. “Oh! The Conjuring.”

You shiver, your body stiffening at the memory “God I forgot about that one.” You shuffle so that you’re laying on top of him now. “That one was terrifying.”

Minho laughed at the look of horror in your eyes, his hand resting gently on the side of your face. “It wasn’t that bad…” His teasing words are counteracted by his soft stroking of your cheek.

“Yes, yes it was.” You glare at him, resting your chin on his chest. “It was worth it though.”

Minho smirked teasingly, “Oh? And why was it worth it?”

You smiled, “Because it let me get closer to you.” You poke his chest.

He laughs before going back to staring at you in his typical cat-like way.

I've got something in my eye (I surrender what was) Don't you ever wonder what could have been? All those wonders sit in wait for us, we tried Try, please, try for me

“I love you so much.” He says, catching you off guard with the soft look in his eyes.

“I love you too baby.” You reach up to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“So.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So,” you repeat, planting another on his forehead.

“So.” Your lips brush his other cheek.

“So.” This time, you kiss the tip of his nose, your tone turning lighter, teasing.

“Sooo,” you draw out, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Much.” Finally, you capture his lips in a gentle kiss, lingering just long enough to feel the warmth of his smile against yours.

Upon leaning back you’re shocked to find tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay, love?” You ask, concerned.

He quickly dries his eyes, “Yes, just uh, got something in my eye.”

“Liar.” You say lightheartedly, making him chuckle. “What’s wrong?”

“I just love you so much. I’m gonna marry you one day.” Minho murmurs before kissing you, with much more intensity this time.

You pull back, “I can’t wait.” You say before leaning back in.

Come rest for the winter, wear my jumper all night long Those songs we sung, those words we flung For fear of sound All those books that we both drowned And the candle we lit Well, we'll use it to burn this whole place to the ground I'm lost, I'm found in you

The next few weeks are a blur and the two of you spend many nights curled up together, wearing each other's jumpers and reading books together.

One night, you walk into the living room where your boyfriend was setting up for your shared reading session.

“You’re wearing my hoodie!” Minho exclaims, pointing at you as he drops a pillow.

“Yeah! Well you’re wearing mine!” You laugh.

“Only because I couldn’t find mine!” He walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Because you stole it.” He smirked teasingly.

“Oh hush.” You mutter, your hands rested upon his chest. “You love it.”

“I do.” He says before kissing you with a heartstopping intensity. “I really do.”

“Hey” Minho asks later, as you two are curled up reading your books. “Are you Gandalf? Because I’d blindly follow you to Mordor.”

You crack up, “Oh that was horrible!”

“Hey!” He exclaims. “I tried my best! I’d like to see you do better.”

You turn to him, suddenly serious. “I have waited my whole life for this.” He looks shocked and wary at your sudden seriousness.

“Are you Mount Doom? Because you’re hot and I’d walk across Mordor just to give you a ring.” Minho looks stunned.

“Okay that actually wasn’t b-” You cut him off.

“I’m not done.” You give him a mischievous smirk.

“Are you tall and blonde, with pointy ears?” You ask, barely holding back your laughter. “Because after I’m done with you, you’re gonna feel Legolas.” Your composure almost breaks as he giggles.

Minho's eyes light up, “Wait! I’ve got one.” He pauses to compose himself. “Was that a Middle-Earthquake? Or did you just rock my world…”

You press a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Are you the Silmarillion? Because you’re long, hard, and impossible to read.” He says, and it takes every cell in your body not to laugh.

“Are you an orc? Because my Sting lights up whenever you’re around.” The two of you pause for a moment before you burst into hysterical laughter.

“Okay” He manages to get out between laughing fits. “That one wins.”

Hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Can't you hear that scratching? Hold me, lover, like you used to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you too

1st of June, 2019

“AH!” You shriek, shocking the poor man next to you. “Something touched my foot.” You say, freezing in fear.

“Yeah my foot, dumbass.” Minho laughed at your embarrassed expression.

You pressed your face into a pillow, exasperated at your own dumbassery.

“If you’re that scared we can stop.” Minho offered, his voice soft.

You look up. “No. No. I’m fine. Just.” You paused. “Just hold me?”

You giggle internally at the soft pink blush that decorates his neck and ears.

“I- yeah. Of course.” He mumbles and the two of you shuffle around to a more comfortable cuddling position.

Later on, when you jump and bury your face in his chest in fear, he won’t tell you about how tightly you squeeze him, how his muscles ache under the pressure.

Even when he wakes up the next morning and sees the soft purple bruise painting his arm, he doesn’t regret it. Because holding you like this was worth every second.

Every brick you hurled I'll use to build this world This world, this world, this world Let's hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Could be all our demons, darling

14th of December, 2024

“What are we watching this time?” You ask, curling up in Minho’s arms within your makeshift pillow fort- something that had become a weekly tradition.

“I was thinking of The Conjuring.” He teases, laughing as you smack his arm.

“Absolutely not.” You pout.

“Hmm. Fine. How about…” he hums, “Smile.”

You turn to glare at him, huffing. “Never. In a million years. Ever.”

“Okay, okay.” He laughs, “How about you go get snacks and I’ll choose something less scary.”

You look at him suspiciously, “You promise it won’t be scary?”

“I promise.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before ushering you out of the pillow fort.

A few minutes later you re-enter the pillow fort, shooting your boyfriend a cautious glance as you walk in on your knees.

“So, what’d you choose?” You ask, gently placing the snacks down.

“I was thinking we would watch The Proposal.” Minho says, a mischievous smirk on his face.

You turn your head towards him suddenly in surprise. “What? Why? You hate rom-coms.”

Minho giggles, “Because…” he manages to shuffle so that he’s on one knee in front of you, reaching to grab something from his back pocket.

“No fucking way.” You murmur, tears springing to your eyes as he laughs.

He pulls out a black box, the velvet glinting in the dim light as he opens it to reveal an intricate gold ring. It has two golden lines that gracefully twirl around the exterior before stopping at symmetrical filigree swirls. These filigree swirls surround the centre of the ring, which showcases a deep purple gem, surrounded by 4 dark-blue gems, which combined with the swirling filigree are placed to make it look like a 4 four-pointed star.

“Oh baby… It’s beautiful.” You say, trying your hardest to not let your tears slip out.

“My love. The light of my life. I love you so, so much. You are my world. You saved me, when I felt that I was lost and I feel like I’m found in you. You make me laugh, you’re so funny and you’re so extremely kind and loving, even when we fight. You’re so thoughtful, and always know just what to do to help. You are perfect in every way and there is no one else I’d ever even think of wanting to spend my life with.” He paused to blink the tears out of his eyes as you tried to stop the tears rolling down your face. “I love you more than life itself, without you I am nothing more than all my demons. Will you do the honour of marrying me?” He smiles at you gently as a tear rolls down his face.

“Yes. Yes! Yes. Absolutely yes.” You exclaim, pressing soft kisses on his lips that are now wet with both of your tears. He wraps his arms around your waist, careful with the ring and brings you close to him, kissing you with such dizzying intensity that it makes your heart shatter and the piece itself back together.

“I love you.” You pause, pressing another kiss to his lips as you hold his face in your hands. “So much.” You press a dozen more kisses to his lips before you finally break apart for long enough for him to place the ring on your finger.

“It’s so pretty…” You sniffle. “Thank you jagiya.” He smiles, before kissing you again.

“I love you, nae sarang.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead as he holds you close.

Hold me, lover, like you used to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you

Later, the two of you are cuddled up in your pillow fort, peacefully basking in each other's love, warmth and comfort. He laid behind you, chin resting on your shoulder with his arms and legs wrapped around you, gently running his fingers over the ring now adoring your enclosed hands.

“Sometimes, I just get the overwhelming urge to squish you. You’re just so cute.” You murmur to him, leaning back so you can see his face.

His eyes widen as he sees your hand slowly inching towards his face. “What are you doing…?”

“Nothing…” You say, mesmerized by his cuteness, gently reaching out and squeezing his cheeks together.

“What the fuck?” He asked, so genuinely confused.

“Cutie.” You whisper before remembering the ring on your finger and giggling. “My cutie.”

So hide under the covers We don't know what's out there Could be ghosts or monsters or a robot-vampire, I don't know Hold me, lover, like you sued to So tight I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you I'd bruise you, I'd bruise you

1 week later

The two of you are at Minho’s parents house for Christmas. Despite this change in routine you still manage to create a pillow fort on the floor of his childhood room, the two of you watching another scary movie on his laptop.

You notice a strange rustling from just outside the fort.

“What the fuck was that?” You whisper, terrified as you turn towards Minho.

“It’s definitely the cat.” He says.

“Or ghosts. Or monsters.” You whisper back, terrified.

“Or a robot vampire?” He teases, his eyebrow raising in his signature way as you slap his arm.

Suddenly a grey striped paw reaches into your pillow fort.

“Dori!” You exclaim, beckoning the soft grey cat over.

“Told you so.” He mutters, leaning his head on your shoulder.

Dori promptly struts into the pillow fort, quickly laying down in your lap in a purring, fluffy pile.

“She likes you.” Minho smiles, and if it was any brighter in your little stow-away, you’d notice him looking at you as though you created the stars themselves and hung them for his cats to play with. He looks at you with so much genuine love and admiration that if you had seen it, you would’ve melted into a pile alongside Dori.

Rather than try and express this love to you with words, Minho simply wraps his arms around you, careful to not disturb Dori, and pulls you close to him. He hopes to someday get close enough to you that you can feel his adoration seep from his body to yours.

Until then, he’ll settle for holding you tight—so tight that you worry there will be soft purple bruises on your skin by morning. But you don’t mind, because little does he know, you feel his love every time he touches you.

This is a work of fiction, based entirely on my personal perception of him, and does not reflect his actual character or actions.