#i think i actually first thought about near + lock picking when i was like 12 and wrote a wammys house thing for 8th grade creative writing

[blondiest]

hello! can i ask you near & 13 (contraband?)

Hello!! Thank you so much for the ask, I love this one...!

So. I'm mainly considering Wammy's era Near here, largely because I imagine that's the time in his life when he has the most actual restrictions on the sort of thing he'd be allowed to own — as L, obviously there are still things that would be contraband, but I imagine there's little real threat given the privileges granted to L more broadly. Also, off the top of my head, I'm coming up empty for something he'd own as L that would be genuinely illegal.

For a long time, I have really, really liked the idea of Near being able to pick locks. He has so many different skills / hobbies, many of which require very good fine motor control... I can just very easily see him having taught himself to pick locks for fun. This is something I imagine he would be able to figure out from reading up on lock design or what have you in books in the Wammy's library, or by looking at early online resources for it. When he was at the orphanage, he of course didn't have the means to buy a real lock pick set, so he painstakingly made his own by bending & shaping bobby pins and paperclips and such. He would break into various off-limit rooms— not really for any particular purpose, just to see that he could do it and could get away with it. He'd re-lock the door after, and no one would ever know he'd been there. If I'm entertaining the idea of a somewhat more mischevious Near (tbh it's entertaining to imagine Near like this in general, but I especially like picturing fem!Near this way) perhaps he'd move something slightly, or maybe even steal something temporarily, only to return it a few days later.

headcanon asks for characters / ships & their possessions ❣️

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[cosmicanakin]

(sorta) long awaited PART 2 to this DEAN BLURB. 🍋‍🟩

i'm shit at writing a second part to any standalone FICS or BLURBS so i'm rlly sorry if this isn't the 'makeup sex' type blurb yall were lookin' for <3

⎯⎯ warning(s) smut | emotional vulnerability | strong language | semi-public sex | rough sex | praise kink | dirty talk (yum) | jealousy | overstimulation | POSSESSIVE!DEAN | power dynamics | mirror sex. ఌ︎ EIGHTEEN PLUS! ADULT CONTENT | minors do NOT interact.

the bar is loud, filled with the familiar hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. you sit at a table near the back, surrounded by a few of your close friends—hunters like you, women who know the life, know the dangers, and are just as good at blowing off steam after a successful hunt. tonight, the drinks flow easily, and the laughter comes even easier. it's rare to get a reprieve like this, to have a night off where you can just relax and enjoy yourself. you deserve it. you know you do.

but even as your friends trade stories and jokes, your mind keeps drifting. keeps circling back to him. DEAN WINCHESTER. it's been weeks since you left him in that motel room, since you walked away without an explanation, with only a hastily written note. you haven't spoken to him since, haven't called, haven't reached out. not because you didn't want to. GOD, you wanted to. but fear held you back. fear of what he felt, of what you felt, of how everything had changed with those three words he'd let slip between gasps of pleasure.

i love you.

you still hear his voice in your head, still feel the way his body had tensed beneath you when he realized what he'd said. you'd thought about calling him a hundred times, a thousand times actually, to tell him you felt the same. that the reason you ran was because you were scared—scared of how much you loved him, how deeply you'd fallen without even realizing it. but every time you picked up the phone, you hesitated, and the moment passed.

now, sitting in this bar, surrounded by friends, you can't help but wonder if you made a mistake. if walking away from him was the worst decision you could've made. but before you can spiral any further, you hear it—a laugh. a deep, familiar laugh that sends a shock of recognition through your entire body.

you freeze, your drink halfway to your lips, as you turn your head and see him. DEAN WINCHESTER. standing at the entrance of the bar, his brother, sam, by his side. dean doesn't see you at first, too busy scanning the room, probably taking in the scene out of habit, always the hunter, always alert. but then his eyes snap to yours.

it feels like the air is sucked from the room. your heart stutters in your chest, and for a moment, you can't move, can't breathe. he looks just like you remember—broad shoulders, brown leather jacket, that chiseled jawline you've traced with your fingers more times than you can count. but there's something in his eyes, a flicker of something raw and unresolved, and you know he's thinking about that night, about the last time you saw each other.

he doesn't move. neither do you.

but his gaze lingers on you, even as a blonde woman sidles up to him, clearly trying to get his attention. she's pretty—tall, curvy, the kind of woman who turns heads in a place like this. but dean barely spares her a glance, his eyes locked on you like he can't tear himself away. you feel a surge of something hot and uncomfortable twist in your chest—jealousy, anger, desire. god, you miss him. you miss him so much it hurts.

and it's not just him. it's the way he made you feel, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way his hands felt on your skin, rough and gentle all at once. the way he'd held you that night, the way he'd said he loved you, like it was the most natural thing in the world. like he couldn’t help it.

you tear your gaze away, pretending to focus on the conversation at your table, but your mind is spinning. your body is buzzing with the awareness of him, of how close he is, of how much you want him. but the thought of facing him, of having that conversation, of admitting how you feel... it terrifies you.

so you do the only thing you can think of. you excuse yourself, telling your friends you need to use the bathroom, and slip away from the table, weaving through the crowded bar until you reach the small, dingy restroom at the back. you close the door behind you, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead, and lean against the sink, staring at your reflection in the cracked mirror.

your heart is racing, your skin flushed, and all you can think about is dean. about the way his muscles flexed under that leather jacket, the way he looked at you like he was starving for you. heat pools low in your belly, and filthy thoughts flood your mind—thoughts of him pressing you against the mirror, fucking you from behind until you're a mess, just like he did that night in the motel.

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away, but it's no use. your body wants him. you want him.

and then the door creaks open.

your eyes snap open, and you see him—dean, standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with that same hunger you feel. he steps inside, closing the door behind him, locking it with a click. your heart pounds in your chest, and you can't move, can't speak, as he crosses the small space between you, his body heat radiating off him in waves.

he doesn't say a word. he doesn't have to.

his hands are on you in an instant, rough and desperate, pulling at your clothes, as you do the same to him. his leather jacket hits the floor, followed by your shirt, your jeans, his belt clinking as he yanks it free. his breath is hot against your neck, and he's whispering in your ear, his voice low and gravelly.

"you're such a bad girl for leaving me like that," he growls, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat. "but god, y'feel so fucking good... s'perfect."

his words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't stop the whimper that escapes your lips as he spins you around, pressing you against the mirror. your breath fogs the glass as his hands grip your hips, his body pressing against yours from behind. he wastes no time, thrusting into you with a force that makes your knees buckle, but his strong arms hold you steady, keep you grounded.

you're a mess beneath him, a blubbering, trembling mess as he fucks you hard and fast, his hips pistoning into yours with a desperation that matches your own. he's everywhere, all at once—his hands, his mouth, his body consuming you, and you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel.

"you're mine,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive in your ear. "you've always been mine."

and it's true. you know it's true. you've always been his.

you lose track of time, of how many times you come, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, your body shaking with the force of it. by the time he finally pulls out of you, you're spent, your legs trembling, your breath ragged. but dean takes care of you, cleaning you up, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he helps you back into your clothes, his touch gentle and tender, so different from the roughness of moments ago.

when you're both dressed, you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, and without thinking, you pull him into a kiss. it's not like the others—it's not fueled by lust or desperation. this kiss is soft, slow, full of something deeper, something you've been too afraid to admit 'til now.

when you finally pull away, dean looks at you, his eyes searching yours. "what was that for?" he asks, his voice quiet, vulnerable.

you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "i love you," you admit, the words catching in your throat. "and i'm sorry for leaving you like that. i was scared. but, fuck… i love you too, dean. i always have."

the smile that breaks across his face is like sunrise, brilliant and beautiful. he pulls you close again, pressing his body into yours. "yeah?"

"yeah," you whisper back. "turns out you're kind of hard to resist, winchester."

he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest where you're pressed against him. "good thing i'm not trying to resist you anymore either, sweetheart."

when you eventually make your way back to the bar, sam takes one look at your slightly disheveled appearance and dean's stupid grin and rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. your friends are also giving you knowing looks, and the blonde from earlier has long since found another target.

none of that matters, because dean's hand finds yours again, and this time, neither of you are running anywhere. he also pulls you close to him again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a promise of something more.

something real.

꣑୧ UNOFFICIAL TAGLIST. @anqeliclust @aileenunfiltered @embarrasingmf @stereotypicalbarbie @ninii-winchester @suckitands33 @ohheyguyss @spxideyver @artyandink @titsout4nicholas 𓂃 ݁ 𖦹

[chateaaa]

"he probably hates me" x "i love you so much"

pairing: Rin Itoshi x fem! reader

warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

req: "he probably hates me" x "i love you so much" Trope with rin is so true! Mau I request a one-shot of this pls? If u do make it, Tysm! ❤

Rin Itoshi was bad with his feelings and emotions. He knew that but deep down, he is actually a very fragile and sensitive man. Whose heart has been shattered into a million pieces because of how his brother left him.

Ever since you met Rin, your life has changed by becoming his girlfriend, Rin may not seem like it but he would be your typical act of service guy at the start of your relationship

Rin Itoshi, who after blue lock changed, his demeanour changed, his attitude changed and more importantly, your relationship changed. It's like he hates you, he never cares for you, Rin who after blue lock didn't even spare a glance at you.

You knew about Rin's ideals to beat his brother, but you still continued to support him, such as watching how the blue lock won against the football team of japan.

After the U20 match, you received a message from your cold beloved boyfriend, who asked if you can both meet at the park near the stadium because he has something to tell you, which you replied agreeing.

You walked to the park with a small frown, fully expecting that the Rin Itoshi is planning to break up with you.

You sat down at a swing in the park waiting for Rin.

An hour has passed after he messaged you, and he was still not at the park, you then thought positively about how Rin is probably being held up for interviews because of the victory of blue lock.

you saw a stray cat coming near you, and you gently picked it up as it purred when you petted the cat's head.

The park was silent, the only person was you (and the cat) and you were completely thinking about how Rin probably ditched you.

"Hey Mr. cat, do you think my boyfriend hates me?" you suddenly asked the cat, the cat then purred as you chuckled thinking how stupid you look talking about your boy problems to a literal cat.

"You see, i really love him, however i know that i'm a hindrance to his goal so i think it's time for us to break up" you continued talking to the cat.

"My boyfriend is the best, i love his smile and how passionate he is to football and i think i won't be needed in his future" you chuckled bitterly.

You then stood up from the swing, prepared to leave the park then suddenly you saw a figure running towards you.

And that was your boyfriend, The Rin Itoshi, who was now in front of you, still in his jersey, sweat beads going down his forehead as he looked into your eyes.

There was an awkward silence in the air, with Rin catching his breath, you decided to break the silence by speaking up "Rin, how are you? Congrats on winning the game!" you smiled genuinely.

"Y/n listen i—" Rin tried to talk to you.

"Let's break up, Rin" you smiled sadly.

"What...?" Rin replied genuinely shocked.

You closed your eyes, with the fear of getting the look of hatred from Rin as you spoke "Listen Rin, i know that you hate me, it's very obvious and i know i'm an hindrance to your goal in beating your brother, so it's okay and let's break up, thank you for being my boyfriend, Rin, Goodluck on your journey" you smiled, when you opened your eyes you saw something very shocking

You didn't expect the reaction from your boyfriends face when you said that, It was the first time you saw your boyfriend sad, looking like he was about to cry.

"W-What's wrong?" you replied in a panicked state, clearly not used to how rin expresses his emotions to you.

He then hugged you very tight, hands gripping your waist silently pleading for you to not let go, his head resting on your shoulder inhaling your sweet scent.

"I love you so fucking much, Please don't leave me"

— fanfic here

[yandere-yearnings]

Know Me Like the Devil Knows My Sins (Loser!Yandere x GN!Reader)

feat. genie's loser yan

♡ oneshot, approx. 1.5k words

♡ post-specific warnings: yandere themes, implied kidnapping, violence, strangulation, implied death

♡ a/n: thank you to @moyazaika for letting me write abt his oc, loser yan!! genie, if you read this, pls ignore the fact that my characterisation sucks ass. this was over 3k but i went back and cut out the waffle bc there was a lot of it lmao, so ig it's technically edited, but not proofread.

♡♡♡

This basement was cold. 

Heated blankets and warm meals, however many times a day they were brought to you, didn’t change much. No windows or light for even a semblance of passing time, all you had was the annoying draft that skimmed through the door at the top of the staircase — the one you weren’t allowed near. You wouldn’t have been able to escape even if you wanted to, not with the chain around your ankle. For as free as he tried to make you feel, the heavy metal was a constant reminder that there was no liberty in his love, if it could even be called that.

You were waiting for his return, less because you wanted to and more because it was the only thing you could do other than read the books he’d given you. They were all your favourites, from the stories your mother used to read you as a child to the ones you’d pick up on your way home when you’d grown up. At first, you’d found the thoughtfulness of it endearing, feeling seen and understood and catered to. Somewhere, kept within his walls, you didn’t blame yourself for becoming as delusional as he was.

How could you enjoy anything anymore, with no one to share it with?

Each new day that passed, every page you would read and read again, only accomplished you in realising the loneliness that coiled around you. Second by second, growing larger than your life had been before this. Soon, your loved ones would stop looking for you. Soon, you’d be considered dead — and in death you would be all his. You knew that was what he wanted.

You had made yourself comfortable on the vulnerabilities he presented to you, in the way he shook when your fingers stroked his skin, his shudders at your calling his name. That was all too good to be true. If you had actual control in this, he’d have surrendered to you long ago. You’d been testing it. Playing mind games, pushing limits — he’d shut you down quick, then cover the shrewdness in his eyes with a bashful smile. You were no fool, and clearly he wasn’t either.

Your bitterness surmounted with the echoing of locks clicking open. There wasn’t a need for as many as he had placed to keep you here, you weren’t sure you could even run anymore. You hadn’t used your legs in so long. He’d surely catch you. He’d rip your throat out like he did in your nightmares. You had no faith you wouldn’t become another layer of red on the white paint surrounding. Perhaps you should’ve been thankful, if fear were to be a knife, he’d certainly dulled it for you — slinking in, shoulders slumped and looking as meek as ever. Really, from the first glance, he didn’t look like he could hurt a fly.

“Darling…” there was that tone, demure, like you could do anything to hurt him from your place on this filthy mattress, your place on the floor as he stood above you. Towering. This entire thing felt like a sick joke. You’d once considered there being a chance for you. Hope crumbled just like he did, to his knees to look into your eyes. “I missed you so much today, my love.”

You blinked at him. You knew where this was going.

“I mean- I miss you every day, don’t get me wrong!” Sheepish laughter, twitching fingers — all signs of his wanting your validation. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you, not at all. Work has been so hard, and you’re the only thing I can look forward to truly and- and I really, really wanted to come back home quickly and ask if you’d...”

His sentence trailed off, and it took all you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. He wasn’t very creative, that much was obvious. You’d initially chalked it up to some cute sort of performance anxiety that he experienced because he wanted to come off as appealing to you. Now, it had begun to dawn on you that he was simply struggling to keep up the pathetics. As you curled your digits into his hair, as you tugged him closer and let him muffle his weak moan into your neck, you wondered why either of you were bothering anymore. No audience except for the earwigs that crawled about, no one who’d watch this stupid, repetitive show.

“I’ll hold you,” you whispered, tired enough that even your dishonesty could be mistaken as gentle. “I’ll hold your heart. Don’t worry. I know.”

You could feel his lips on your skin, chapped, scraping where he tried to formulate words. You were sure he too felt this warring between the both of you, this constant fight, teasing superiority, challenging who would take the reigns in this sombre dance. Bored out of your mind, anticipating when he’d get tired of you — but you were his infatuation so that could never happen.

“Not enough about me,” he breathed, “my sweetheart, my entire world, you wouldn’t know what I’ve done for you.” His hands dug into your waist where they rested, gripping flesh over fabric like it would give him warmth. It wouldn’t, because it was freezing in here.

“Won’t you tell me?”

Quiet laughter. “You’d be scared if I did.”

“I already am.” Your words made him pull away, made him peer at you with those eyes. You held his gaze. “I already am afraid of you. I already know who you are. Tell me anyway, since-”

“Since you love me.” He interrupted you, finished your sentence with words you had not been planning to utter. He didn’t say it tentatively enough; gave himself away with that and the severe expression on his face that his hair did not hide. It was a shame that now wasn’t one of your better days, lest you’d have heeded the silent warning.

“Since I can’t leave,” you corrected. No energy for even a single ounce of regret, none to even whimper at the violent pressure of his grip on your collarbones.

Sometimes, he’d come to you with blood caked under his fingernails. Sitting there like he was sinless, mouth running for hours about you in every way he could. All your likes and dislikes, all your habits, all your life — as if you didn’t know yourself. Again, those lips were moving, spitting at you like it could quell the anger you could see bubbling beneath the surface.

Your perfect person, he spilled descriptions like the ideals you once had were his intimate study, asking you why. Why wasn’t he enough even though he’s everything you’d ever wanted? When he’d made sure of it? Your chance to answer was taken by lithe fingers on your neck, but if you could, you’d have told him that at its core, it was just that every desire you had, looked like something disgusting on him.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t like you, c’mon,” his words came ringing, buzzing, an entire choir of metal scraping metal underwater, your world spinning and head pressed back into the mattress too fast to stop him from climbing on top of you, “don’t deny your feelings for me.”

Your eyes rolled back and his hold on you only loosened a fraction. Staring at the dark inside your own skull, gasping breaths through bruised tissue. You thought you heard knocking, and surely it’d be death at your door if you didn’t backtrack now, didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear, like you had been until you’d lost yourself in your own lies.

Survival instinct should’ve kicked in, but then sight and sound returned to you, and you accepted that you wouldn’t be the hero in your story. You’d get yourself killed, yet, how could you love a man that loomed over you with eyes on fire? He’d burn you up to make it through the winter, and find another once your ashes were blown away.

Even if it made you a villain, drowning in the blood pooling from your ears, you owed yourself your last rasp to him. “I hate you,” broken and choked on tears cutting through the numbness. Your nails clawing everywhere you could reach, on this bed of springs that felt nothing like the one you so desperately wanted to return to, you mourned all you were losing. 

Limbs going numb — salt — you’d never see home again.

When under constant observation, there’s only so much one can conceal about themselves. He knew that well. From the pictures of you in his gallery and the endless notes with your name repeated over and over and over — he’d chosen to obsess, and you were forced to, and you became his mirror the longer he kept you. Going mad, crazy, insane because his was the only face you could remember anymore.

You knew his moods from his scent and his needs from his touch, you knew him to the heart of the blank slate he’d always been, you knew him rooted carnally to you because it was the only thing grounding him. He hadn’t needed to tell you anything really, and you didn’t need to push. You knew him like the devil knew his sins.

And he’d take you to hell for it.

[anilovie]

Could I request something with a shy! Reader who has a huge crush on Anakin. And every time they see him, they just—run away. Lol.

This drives Anakin up the fucking wall, because he just wants to talk to them and see their sweet face and hear their beautiful voice. He thought their little crush was cute/funny at first, but as time went on, he actually fell harder. 😌💕

Eventually, he corners them and seduces them into looking at him. Like—cups their jaw with his leather glove and presses his thumb against their throat to force their neck back to look at him. 🥵 And then he just DEVOURS them.

I love your writing sm, by the way. 💕

A.N: I loooooved this request. i could write about this for HOURS. lmk if you want more, sweet anon 💖

CW: fluff, lots of fluff, solely fluff, kissing and requited pining with a dash of fluff, gn reader

WC: 1.5k

♡ Let’s be real. Anakin would certainly know you have a crush on him from the moment it forms.

♡ As the ‘Brotherhood’ book insists, Anakin is better at reading peoples emotions through the force than anyone else. So of course he’d be able to pick up on the way your nerves spike whenever he’s near, the rush of elation coming from you when he walks in the room, the stutter of your heart when you lock eyes and he offers a polite nod in greeting.

♡ He can feel how you stare at him from across the room when you think he’s not looking. Can see the goosebumps on your skin when he ‘accidentally’ brushes you. He can tell when you’re even thinking about him just from the way your heartbreak quickens and you begin to fidget with your hands.

♡ He knows everything about what you’re trying to hide from him.

♡ But you have no idea that he returns those feelings.

♡ It only makes your crush on him that much more frustrating. Because he wishes he could just sit you down someplace and talk to you for hours— stare into your eyes and study the way your face moves when you smile, and frown, and laugh, and cry. He wants to know every inch of you, to study all your flaws and perfections, to know everything about you.

♡ More than anything, he wants to just have you already, raw and real and unapologetically you.

♡ But you’re always making excuses to leave him early whenever you’re left alone. Always turn away when you catch him staring. You’re always crossing your arms or pulling your jacket tighter when he’s near, or hiding behind Obi-Wan, or cutting yourself short when you speak. And if he tries to flirt with you, you clam up and practically disappear in a puff of smoke.

♡ One time, he’s almost certain he made you cry. All he said was that you looked pretty, and tapped the bottom of your chin with his finger. That’s it. But your eyes got all wet and your lip started to wobble, and you quickly turned away, muttering some excuse about being late for an appointment.

♡ most infuriatingly, you’ve only been able to make eye contact with him a handful of times; much less hold it. Your pretty eyes turn wide with embarrassment, your nerves go haywire, and you rip your beautiful gaze away far too quickly for his liking.

♡ And force forbid you have to speak to him. Always staring over his shoulder when he talks to you, or at his chest, or his shoes, or your shoes.

♡ If you manage to get a few sentences out without stumbling over your words or cutting yourself short, he is so proud.

♡ If you’d only just look at him, you would see that.

♡ Though you can never seem to form a complete sentence around Anakin, to Ashoka you can’t seem to shut up.

♡ “Kriff, alright! I get it! Enough about my ‘hot master’!”

♡ In all honesty, you think Anakin merely tolerates you. You’re friends, and you work together, so you think he’s obligated to be nice to you.

♡ the only way you can come out of your shell around him at all is when he makes it glaringly, sickeningly obvious that he’s head over heels about you, too.

♡ Sweet smiles, soft touches, and gentle words of praise and adoration. Constant endearment and doting. It’s endless coming from him, earning constant eye-rolls from Ahsoka.

♡ he always lowers his voice so it’s in that soft, raspy register with you. He doesn’t even notice it, but you do. It’s like he’s reserved all of his gentleness just for you.

♡ most days, he has to call your attention to him, otherwise you won’t dare trouble him. For example, you’re hurrying past him in the starfighter bay, heart jumping into your throat as soon as you recognize that curly head of golden hair, when;

“Hey— you just gonna walk right past me?”

You skid to a stop and turn back around, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry… thought you were busy. Didn’t wanna bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me. You never bother me.”

“Oh…” you laugh nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. His attention pins you to the spot, forcing your gaze to your shoes as you awkwardly rock back on your heels. “So, did you… did you need something?”

“Yes, actually,” he gestures with his head behind him, toward his ship. “Come with me?”

Your gut swirls in anticipation for what Anakin could possibly need to be alone with you for. You’re no genius when it comes to spaceships; you can only hope that whatever it is, you don’t make a fool of yourself in front of him.

Anakin leads you inside to the control room, and then abruptly stops. He turns to you with his arms crossed, intense stare piercing into your face, and comes right out with it:

“Why won’t you ever look at me?”

Immediately, your face grows warm. He gives you no time to even wrap your brain around the question before adding;

“You’re not scared of me, are you?”

As if to prove him wrong, you flick your eyes up to his face, and then quickly away. “I do look at you.”

“That hardly counts,” He scoffs.

It’s worse. He’s making it so much worse. The small space, the forced proximity, the confrontation— your heart is going haywire in your chest, skin breaking out in a nervous sweat. Your mind goes absolutely blank.

“Am I that hard to look at?” His tone is light, teasing, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind it.

“No— no, you’re not hard to look at, at all,” you quickly assure. And because your brain has melted, you add, quieter, “that’s sort of the problem.”

He’s silent for a long moment. And when you sneak another glance at him, you see a grin slowly crawling onto his face.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“You think I’m handsome, hm?”

“Just a little,” you mutter, arms crossed defensively. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“No?”

“No.”

You search for the exit, thinking it’s about time you get out of this situation before you quite literally pass out. With every word, Anakin leans closer to you, and your pulse has quickened to the point of dizziness.

“I think you like me,” Anakin’s voice has dropped to a near-whisper, rasping as he leans down close to your face. You’ve shrunk back as far as you can go, almost hitting your head on the control panel above.

You turn your head away, trying to escape him, only to find his arm already braced against the wall by your head, trapping you in.

“Anakin—“

There are so many thoughts flying through your head. This can’t happen— he’s a Jedi— you want him— you can’t breathe— is he getting closer?

“Look at me,” he demands. And it’s like he’s the pied piper: His voice controls you.

Blue.

“There you go,” the corner of his lips tilt up. “Not so hard now, is it?”

“It is hard,” you whisper, eyes welling with overwhelmed tears. “You make me nervous.”

He can feel your fragile will shatter, bringing his other hand to cup your jaw, keeping your head tilted up with leather fingers. Even if you look away, you have no choice but to face him.

“Well, I’m proud of you.” His voice is incredibly soft. It’s not mocking or teasing or anything.

He’s proud of you. Anakin Skywalker is proud of you.

That knowledge coaxes you back to him, slowly, and you see true adoration shining in those glittery, softened eyes. Your shoulders finally relax, shaky breath filling your lungs.

“Please don’t make fun of me,” you beg, giving up on hiding what you truly feel for him. He’s forced it all to light now, anyways. “I know you can’t feel the same. And I’ll keep it to myself. I don’t want to trouble you—“

“Hey, hey,” he cuts you off, hushing softly. “What did I say? You’re never troubling me,” his gaze shifts between both of your eyes, as if unable to decide which to look at. “And who says I can’t feel the same? Who says I can’t feel more?”

Your attention accidentally shifts down to his mouth, and your mind goes absolutely blank again.

“W-what?”

Pretty, plump lips curl into a smile. Mischievous, this time. Knowing.

“What’re thinking about, hm? Tell me, please. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

His face draws impossibly nearer, you almost go cross-eyed trying to keep looking at him. His breath tickles your lips, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut.

“Show me what you’re thinking,” he urges. And with a surge of confidence, fueled by the desire to just take what you’ve wanted for so long now, you lift your chin and close the last remaining centimeters between you.

“Mmm,” he immediately hums, appreciating your eagerness. He smiles against your lips, and it lights your body on fire.

You are kissing Anakin Skywalker.

His lips are just as soft as they look.

You finally know what Anakin tastes like.

These three thoughts are all you can grasp until you pull away too soon, stomach somersaulting from the soft sound your lips make as they break apart. Only he hasn’t had enough. Using the hand on your jaw to keep you still, he captures your lips in a bruising kiss, tilting his head to taste you deeper, harder— he lets his tongue swipe your bottom lip, coaxing you open, wanting to know if you taste this good everywhere— only the feeling of his hot tongue on your lip fills your face with unbearable heat, and you pull away from him with a gasp.

“Anakin—“ you whine, bringing your hands up over his to cover your face.

He’s laughing now, ducking his head so that his bangs cover his eyes. If the lighting wasn’t so dim, you could have sworn there was color blooming on his cheeks.

“What? Too much?”

Again, you’re left speechless.

But you’re not stupid. Of all the words he’d just spoken to you, all of the gentle touches and longing looks in the past, of how he’d just kissed you—

“There’s no need to be so shy around me, sweetheart,” he tries to amend. “I adore you. Everything about you,” he shakes his head. “I always have.”

He couldn’t make it more clear. A tiny, hopeful smile eases its way onto your face, but you bashfully push at his chest. “Okay,” you huff. “Just— just let me breathe for a minute, okay?”

He laughs again, but leans back and returns his arms to his sides so you can gulp in a deep breath. Your face is so hot, and your lips are tingling from his phantom touch. And he’s still just staring at you, unblinking.

“Stop looking at me,” you mumble, and he responds by affectionately squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, stealing a quick kiss on your pouted lips before you can complain.

“Never.”

[keraxxx]

Hate or Jealousy? -Part one

Pairing- Oliver Quick x F!Reader

Summary- When your cousin, Felix, invited his friend Oliver over to Saltburn for the summer, you hated him and didn’t know why.. you want to figure out his intentions.

Warnings- Cursing, possible mentions of ed, slightly bitchy reader(js spoiled n rich so), masturbation, possible stalking, not proof read

A/N-Happy new year! I hope everything is going well for you guys. I just watched Saltburn last night and OH MY GOD. I had to pause the movie a few times and think abt what I had just watched. Still an amazing movie of course and ik I had to write something about Oliver. so enjoy!! (inspo is from venetia and oliver's interactions.) word count- 1.4k

comment to be added to tag list. NEXT PART HERE

Requests are open!

—

For some reason, you didn't like Oliver. You didn't like the way he looked at you when Felix first invited him, it was as if he was trying to undress you with his eyes.. Did you hate him? Were you jealous of him? Or did you find him slightly attractive? You couldn't make up your mind. It was all over the place, emotions poking and showing on your face as you looked at him almost in a judgmental way. You think it was also the way he acted, all sweet and innocent.. his eyes showed someone different. He's hiding himself. but why?

Everyone is sitting at the table, Felix sat next to you and Oliver is sitting across. Everyone is conversing as normal, but you stay silent, nothing in the conversation is peaking your interest since your aunt, Elspeth, is just gossiping. You pick at your plate with your fork, unable to eat a single thing, your free hand messing with the silky fabric of your red dress. You look across the table and look at Oliver, practically glaring at him without a care. His features weren’t bad if you were being honest with yourself. It’s almost as if he knew you were looking at him because he diverts his attention to you quickly. You look back down at your plate, embarrassed he saw you. You saw him smile before getting back into the conversation with the family again.

After dinner, everyone disperses to their room and you walk back to your room. You sigh as you lay down on your bed, spreading out onto the duvet. You curl your pillow in your arms and rest your chin on it. Sighing, you kick your legs up behind you, swaying slightly as you think to yourself.. you think about Oliver. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Why was he so interesting to you? Something about him made you want to investigate him, figure out his intentions but it’s too early to do that now since he just got here. Time passes and you’re still lying down thinking about the whole situation, unable to sleep. Sighing, you hop off your bed and walk out your room.

You sit on a stone bench near the garden, hugging your cold goosebump filled arms as you look out into the distance. You hear footsteps and turn your head to see Oliver, wrapped up in a blanket you assumed he took off his bed. You raise your eyebrow curiously as you look him up and down. “I thought you were sleepwalking.” He chuckles slightly and looks down at you timidly. “Yeah no.” You force a small smile. “Couldn’t sleep , that’s all.” Oliver unravels himself and puts the blanket over your shoulders. “It’s cold out.” He says in a soft tone, puffing out his chest as he inhales. You scan over his boxer briefs with a hidden smirk, his tone arms and stomach staring back at you. “Are you not cold?”

You snap out of your trance and look up. “I am actually. Thanks.” You laugh dryly as you maintain eye contact. Oliver doesn't break it, he keeps his blue eyes locked on yours with an almost untrue smile. "Are you not cold?" You laugh as you refer to his almost naked body. He shakes his head and laughs embarrassedly. "N-No.. i'm fine." You nod your head and eventually look away.

"I see why Felix likes you." Oliver hums in confusion. "You're different.." You stand up, hugging the blanket around you still. "But.. I see you, Ollie." You whisper as you get closer. "I see you hiding." His lips tug up into a small smirk. "Yeah?"

"Yeah.." You look him up and down one last time before walking off, taking the blanket he gave you. His eyes were burning a hole in the back of your head as he watched you with a smug expression.

-

Next morning comes and as usual, the whole family is gathered up again, eating breakfast. Oliver comes and sits in the empty seat next to you. You look down at your thighs and clear your throat before taking a sip of your drink. Oliver conversates with your aunt, attempting to be nice. You look across the table to Felix and hum knowingly. He laughs as he looks at you, shaking his head before going back to eating.

After eating, you, Farleigh, Felix, Venetia, and Oliver hang out near the small lake. You and Farleigh are sitting next to Venetia on the dock, her hair in the water as she lays on her back, Felix and Oliver sitting on some chairs by the side.

"I don't think I like him." You say softly as you look over at him and Felix conversing. "Well he is Felix's toy.." "And we know Felix doesn't like sharing his toys." Venetia says in a teasing yet sarcastic tone. "True.." You hum as you bring your knees to your chest. "You think he'll last long?" You look at them both and they quickly shake their heads no.

"I think Felix is gonna get bored of him soon. He's so clingy.. and he was a nerd no one wanted to sit with at college so." Farleigh shrugs as he tugs at his curls. You stifle a giggle and roll your eyes sarcastically. "Oh stop.. he's such a sweet boy." You say in a softer tone. "Lets not lie now." Venetia scoffs before she laughs. You look over at Oliver again and you can see him eyeing you down.. that same stare that he did when you first met. He's undressing you again. You look away with a small eye roll and continue your conversation with Farleigh and Venetia. "I swear he's hiding something.." You scoff as you look down at your knees. "He's always looking at me as if he's trying to see how much i'm worth.." Venetia lifts her sunglasses up to the top of her head and looks at him. "Maybe he wants to get in your pants." She teases. You and Farleigh laugh and you gently hit her arm.

Its dinner time again and this time you're wearing a long white dress with a fold-over off shoulder look. You're picking at your food, again, still processing Oliver in your head. He needed to get out of your head for god's sake, you didn't like the boy. "So Oliver.." Elspeth starts, "How are you finding it here?" She looks at him with a smile and he smiles back. "Uh- Yeah.. yeah it's nice. I get lost sometimes but I find my way." "Good." She smiles and takes a sip of her red wine. Oliver looks down at his plate with a smile as the small chatter around the table starts up again. He looks up at you and you look back. "Did you ever go to sleep last night?" He asks in a restrained voice, just loud enough for you to hear. You nod slowly. "Mhm.." He smiles at your response. "Good." His words stuck to you, as if he wanted you to say yes.. almost as if you obeyed him in some way. You look down and drag your teeth along your bottom lip, feeling some sort of arousal course through your body, finding its way to your core. You just had to get through dinner.

Dinner is done and thank god it was. You felt as if you were about to burst, it was dreadful. You go to your bathroom, making sure to shut the door, and draw yourself a bath. You run your hand under the water, checking the temperature and immediately hum in satisfaction. You strip yourself of your dress and undergarments, leaving them on the floor by the tub. You sink into the tub, moaning at the nice feeling of warm water against your frigid body. You hum to yourself as you snake you hand under the water and down your stomach, finding your swollen bud. You let out a soft groan as you slowly move your digits against your clit, your hips moving in rhythm. You tilt your head back against the edge of the tub, your mouth left open as you let out inaudible moans. You had yourself yearning for more, the only image in your head is the man you hate, Oliver. You replaced your hand with his, imaging he was with you at the moment rubbing your soaking wet cunt. You whined and moved your fingers faster, your legs lifting up slightly. You bite your lip and cursed to yourself as you felt yourself growing closer to release, your eyes fluttering close. You wanted him so bad but you fucking hated him.

Your whines and whimpers fill the bathroom, probably almost loud enough for the whole manor to hear. You could just imagine him kissing on your neck while he fingers you against the counter of your bathroom, forcing you to look in the mirror while you moan out his name. Your juices dripping down his hand and his groans against your neck vibrating your body. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and you eagerly buck yourself into your hand while you moan uncontrollably. Your back arches and you can your legs shake slightly as you finish. You pant, pulling you hand off your clit. You exhale as your eyes open slightly. Turning your head, you look at the door and noticed it was cracked open. You swore you had shut the door and you bite your lip nervously.

Was someone watching you?

-

[fairy-writes]

REAL OR NOT REAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Trigun Stampede

Pairing(s): Vash the Stampede x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Reader is Short, Use of Various Nicknames (smalls)

Notes: I’m also taking this concept from The Hunger Games.

PART ONE HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

After three months, your memories of Vash still haven’t come back.

You ended up visiting the doctor who had discharged you, and he reassured you that they’d likely come back in time.

But you were impatient, and Vash was losing hope that you’d ever get your memories back. That much was obvious. He put on a show that he was fine, but you had the feeling he did that so as to not worry anyone.

He was succeeding in anything but that.

Nicholas noticed. 

Meryl noticed.

Roberto noticed. 

Hell, even you noticed!

So, Meryl came up with a game of sorts. She knew about your strange dreams and the odd flashes of déjà vu you’d get around certain things. Thus, the game “real or not real” was born. It was simple, if not a bit dumb, but it allowed you to voice your thoughts and feelings better than before, so you put up with it. You’d ask a question, like if you had been somewhere before, and then ask, “real or not real?”

More often than not, it was real to some degree. 

Vash came alive at the chance to talk about your previous memories. A small smile played at his lips when he spoke about your adventures. The shenanigans you’d get into. Some of it was before you met Meryl, Nicholas, and Roberto. But you found your heart thundering when he grew near. Your palms grew sweaty, even more so than in the desert sun. You liked it best when he would answer your questions. 

Was this what it was like falling in love with Vash?

“You’re killin’ me, smalls! Just get out!” Nicholas complained as you paused in getting out of the van. Meryl had stopped for a bathroom break in a small town, one you didn’t know the name of. 

“We’ve been here before, real or not real?” You ignored him in favor of asking as a wave of déjà vu washed over you. 

Soft sunsets. 

A declaration of love.

A gentle kiss. 

“Real, though you might want to get out of the van before Wolfwoof gets upset,” Vash said good-naturedly as he clambered out behind you. Now that you were slowly grasping at your fleeting memories, you were more comfortable sitting beside Vash. So, you’d all end up alternating who sat where just to give the middleman a break. Nicholas spills out with a few choice words in your direction, but you pay him no mind. Instead, your eyes are locked on a small tavern just on the edge of the town. 

“You took me there once before, real or not real?” You whisper to Vash, who chuckles and rubs at his undercut, 

“Real,” He says cryptically, not elaborating like he usually does. You frown and look up at him, but he avoids your gaze. 

What was up with him?

After a few minutes, Meryl exits the tavern, having relieved herself and ready to return to the desert road. 

“Actually… Meryl, would you be okay if we stopped here for the night?” You ask hesitantly, and when she stops, you elaborate, “I feel like I have missing memories here.”

At that, she readily agrees, much to the chagrin of Nicholas and Roberto. 

You were supposedly on a time crunch to make it to July, where a man named Millions Knives would be waiting. 

But you weren’t about to pass up on this opportunity, so you wander. Some faces are familiar, some aren’t, but something about this place makes you feel warm and fuzzy. You pass an alleyway where you swear there's the ghost of fingertips at your hips and a mouth on yours. 

But nothing comes of it, so you move on. 

Only to realize you’re being followed. 

At first, you think you’re seeing things—a flash of red fabric here, a smidgeon of blond hair there—but you aren’t stupid. You pick up on what’s happening rather quickly. Ducking down the very alleyway you had passed before, you ignore the phantom brushes of gentle caresses in favor of waiting. 

And when Vash passes by the alley, your hand darts out as quick as a whip and snags his jacket. He yelps as you pull him into the shadows with you. 

He’s close, blue eyes wide behind his glasses and lips parted in shock as he nearly falls into you. He barely manages to catch himself with his hands. 

“You’re following me. Real or not real?” You tease and see a pretty pink flush color his cheeks. He laughs awkwardly, 

“Alright, you caught me.” You grin,

“Well, you weren’t exactly being subtle about it. That coat of yours is hard to miss.” You say and release his coat. 

But he doesn’t move.

Your heart skips a beat as he looks down at you. He looks at you as if you hung the moons in the sky. You remember the feelings you had when you passed this alleyway and got into this town. 

Soft sunsets. 

A declaration of love.

A gentle kiss. 

“You told me you loved me here. Real or not real?” You whisper and see his eyes light up. 

“You remember?” He whispers back, just as softly, if not more so. All you hear is your heartbeat in your ears. Vash is impossibly close, leaning down slightly to meet your gaze as he searches your eyes for any hint of a lie. 

But you wouldn’t lie. 

Not to Vash.

“I’m starting to.” You say, stretching up on your tiptoes to kiss him. You gently hold his face as he starts in surprise. It takes all but a split second for him to respond, and he’s desperately kissing you back like when you first woke up. 

The only difference is this time, you don’t pull away. 

[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR: 13. YNXOXO VLOG: cafe date with my girls <3

WARNiNGS » profanity, jayke bickering, ermm not much else

wc: 1.2k (kinda short but there’s not much to write!!)

video desc: hi guys welcome back to my bubble! today me giselle and kat ended up going to a cafe, we tried croffles for the first time and just caught up. afterwards we took a couple insta pics and then called it a day. fairly short vlog today but hope you enjoyed! ^.^

you prop up the camera on your vanity and walk further back so your whole body is in the frame. “hi guys i know this is a weird way to start the vlog but i need help” you were currently wearing your bunny pajama set that you and sunoo got to match on your last weekend trip. you held up two different outfits and looked at the camera. “i’ve done everything else, i just need an outfit” you look at the first outfit and then the camera.

“this one makes sense because it’s a cafe and you know it’s like. cute. oh my god i told myself i was gonna stop saying like anyways” you grumbled, looking at the other outfit in your hand. “this one is a bit more casual and not as over the top? but still cute.” you look at the camera once more and sigh. you think for a second and look at both of the outfits once more. reluctantly you set the first one down on your bed and hold up the second one.

“i’ll wear this! i’ll be right back guys!” you smile at the camera and run to the bathroom, shutting the door. you quickly change being sure not to mess up your makeup or hair. you walk out and do a spin for the camera, smiling softly. you walk closer and pick up the camera. “okay now i can properly start the vlog, hi guys welcome back to my little bubble!” you smile and wave. you begin walking out of your room and to your living room. “today me kat and giselle are going to a cafe! the three of us haven’t hung out in soo long i miss my girls” you pout softly at the camera, slipping on your shoes.

you stepped out of your apartment, locking the door behind you and getting in the elevator. thankfully there wasn’t anyone there. “todays vlog might be relatively short but i’ll try my best!” you give the camera a thumbs up. it was easier to vlog if you were doing a lot but whenever you’re not doing much in the day it’s a bit harder to make content out of it. “a little update: after that party last weekend my mom came over and made me a ton of food so i’m grateful for that!” you nodded, smiling at the camera. “i love my moms cooking so much. i think that’s always what i miss most when i moved out, but it’s really freeing having your own place you know? i feel like i couldn’t even live with a roommate because it’s just so nice being on my own”

the elevator doors opened, revealing your apartment lobby. you waved hi to the doorman and walked out, making your way to the cafe you three had to meet at. “do you guys enjoy being alone or with your friends? tell me in the comments!” you speak to the camera, walking at the same time. “me personally i prefer a bit of both you know? like i enjoy my alone time but i also love going out with my friends whenever i can, i think it’s healthy to keep a mix of it in your life!” you smiled softly, as if you were directly talking to someone in front of you.

“the walk to the cafe isn’t that far, one of my friends had introduced it to me. isn’t it funny? that you live near a cool place and you don’t even know until someone tells you?” you laugh slightly, thoughts drifting sunwoo. there was nothing truly special about him, he was just a guy that you happened to meet and get closer to. you weren’t even sure if you could call what the two of you had a relationship because nothing was ever established. maybe that’s why it hurt so bad when he moved away, those feelings left unresolved. you sighed and groaned.

“living in a walkable city is all fun and games until you actually have to walk somewhere” you were now stopped at a crosswalk, the cafe just across the street. you looked at yourself in the camera and fixed your hair, a stray hair on your face. “it’s so odd that it’s august and it’s hot, like what happened to fall you know?” you sighed, crossing the street to reach to the cafe. you peaked in the window and spotted kat and giselle at a table. your face brightened up as you waved at them. the two girls spotted you and gestured you to come in.

you open the door and rush to their table, taking a seat. “guys they’re here oh my god it’s like they aren’t real” you flipped the camera around to show both kat and giselle and they just start laughing at you. “hi vlog!” giselle waves and leans closer to the camera. kat also waves, giggling. “oh my god they already ordered food i love them so much” you pan the camera over to the drinks and food the girls ordered, then showed your face. “i love when she talks as if we’re not sitting here” giselle giggles at your face and kat nods along “it’s so adorable” she mutters, watching as you talk to the camera with such excitement.

you prop the camera up on the table and face kat and giselle. “ugh i missed you guys, catch me up please!” you reach for the drink, knowing it’s yours because giselle pushed it closer to you. you take a sip, looking up at kat and giselle. kat looked to giselle with curious eyes. “you’re hiding something..” she squinted at giselle, as if trying to see what she was hiding. giselle keeps her mouth shut then lets out a breath she was holding. “okay fine! i might have lied to you guys last weekend!” she admits, earning a gasp from both you and kat who just look at one another, then at giselle.

“well!! spill!!” you spoke out, gesturing her to keep talking. giselle sighed and groaned, “well you know how i told you guys that i was seeing some hometown friends last weekend?” she looked to the two of you, as if wanting some sort of confirmation you were catching her drift. kat gasped and you looked between the two of them. “what? wait tell me!” you whined, tapping giselles hand.

“well you know that childhood friend you guys know about well, me and him were on a date” giselle breathed out and you gasped louder than kat did before. giselle shushed you in embarrassment. “oh my god.. well? how was it?” you looked at her, a bit excited. kat rolled her eyes and scoffed, taking a sip of her latte. “it couldn’t have been good if she didn’t tell us” you shushed her, giving giselle your full attention.

“it actually wasn’t good.. i don’t know we had a connection then things got awkward and when he took me home he asked if he could come up” you and kat wore the same shocked expression as giselle laid the entire date out for you two. “no.. never let a man come into your house on the first date” kat pointed the camera, talking to giselle as well as the viewers. both you and giselle start laughing, forgetting the camera was even there.

you reached for the camera, turning it to face you. “well with that note of advice i’m gonna end the vlog off here. thank you for joining me in my bubble and i’ll see you guys next time! bye bye!!” you turn the camera to giselle and kat and they both wave bye, blowing kisses.

previous masterlist next

AUTHORS NOTE » WE BACK! new characters unlocked?? also i want to clarify that haseul is NOT loona haseul, i just needed a name and sunwoo is tbz sunwoo just the same age as yn! please like and reblog!!

TAGLiST » @lqfiles @strawberrysavi @blockbusterhee @onlyhyunjin @purennn @jungkit @flwoie @imheretoread @firstclassjaylee @pinkishyng @luvgiselle @kang-ulzzang @cherryxbxmb @jkslvsnella @urslytherin @somerandomf1fan @kittykangz @hyuckies18 @seungwaitamin @taehyunnzly @luvvhaerin @brii-sunwoos-version @won4kiss @cheridiaries @dissoc1ating @mimismenu @heelovesmeknot @cherryrikis @onlyjungchan @getoxo @enhaz1 @hoshipills @tocupid

bold cannot be tagged

[quin-ns]

The blue VIII (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

A/N: the final chapter. I had a lot of fun not only writing but sharing my first series with you guys 🫶

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

You hadn’t planned on JJ following you inside, but a part of you knew he would anyway.

You were glad he did, because when JJ took you into his arms, you felt a wave of comfort that you desperately needed. You had so many days to prepare for this, but it still didn’t feel like enough. Thinking and talking about how to tell your friends versus actually telling them was very different.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

You tilted your head up and found JJ looking down at you. You wondered if he could see your guilt as the thought of backing out crossed your mind.

JJ leaned in after a moment. His lips ghosted yours as he muttered, “It’s okay.”

Someone cleared their throat, and it wasn’t JJ. The sound that filled the room came from near the doorway. You tensed and even though anxiety made you want to bury your face into JJ’s shirt, you turned your head.

John B stood a few feet in the doorway, a look of sheer embarrassment on his face. He scratched the back of his head, eyes not meeting yours or JJ’s directly.

“Was just coming to check on you guys…” he said awkwardly, gesturing to you and JJ. You swallowed and parted from JJ, even if it was the last thing you wanted to do. You failed to speak and so did JJ. “So is this a thing, or…?”

“We can explain,” you said, not even knowing how to begin.

“Yeah, we were gonna tell you guys, we just”—JJ shrugged and looked at you—“we just didn’t know how.”

Kiara and Pope picked that moment to come into the house. A spotlight might as well have been shining down on you. You’d probably be sweating in a minute.

“What’s going on?” Kiara questioned, looking between the three of you. “If you’re back to arguing—“

“Kie, stop,” JJ interjected, lifting a hand. “No one is arguing, okay?”

Kiara pouted at being interrupted. “Well what is it then?”

You locked eyes with John B. Your heart stammered in your chest, even as he deferred to you. You looked up to JJ and found him looking at you as well. They’d follow your lead, you could see it in their eyes. They had different tells, but you knew them well enough to figure this out. It was up to you.

You gave JJ a light nod. No backing down now.

“We have something to tell you guys,” you blurted out, facing the group.

JJ reached for your hand, and you saw the moment it clicked for Kie and Pope. Confusion set in, Kie with wide eyes and Pope with furrowed brows. John B’s smile was tight lipped as he attempted an assuring look.

“You… you um…” Pope began, like he wasn’t sure how the sentence ended.

“Yeah,” JJ said. “We’re together.”

You weren’t sure what was worse, the dead silence or the stares you were receiving. Time passed so slowly in those quiet seconds.

“How long…?” Kiara wondered cautiously.

“About a month,” you admitted. “We weren’t sure how to bring it up.”

“I can see why,” Kiara muttered. You heard JJ suck in a breath. “Sorry,” she apologized, actually sounding guilty.

John B shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders slouching. “Well it explains a lot,” he decided. His brows raised in JJ’s direction. “That's why you got so mad at me, isn’t it?”

“I was jealous,” JJ confessed. “I didn’t handle it well ‘cause she didn’t know and I didn’t think I could ever tell her how I felt.”

“I had no idea,” you added, hoping it was the right thing to say. You were at a loss for what the right thing was, truthfully. There couldn’t be a right thing to say in a situation like this. There wasn’t exactly a blueprint for how to explain your step brother was no longer that in your eyes, and that even more than that he was also your boyfriend. “This just sort of happened, but it’s working.”

There was a sense of relief that intertwined with your anxiety. At least you got the words out. They left your mind and now existed in open space. It wasn’t a secret anymore.

“I still have a lot of questions,” Pope commented awkwardly.

It was fair, you would too. So whatever they asked, you and JJ answered. Eventually the nervous energy in the room wore off and you were all able to move back out to the porch, where you continued the little Q and A. You and JJ told them everything. It was uncomfortable at first, especially when JJ started talking about the fact he’d struggled for so long with his feelings before you knew. You held his hand and couldn’t fight your frown as he voiced his former anxiety. It seemed like such a long time ago. You couldn’t imagine a world where JJ looked at you full of love and desire and you didn’t meet his gaze with the same emotions.

They finally got the truth about the night John B and JJ argued, about the movie, about the party—although, the detail about you and JJ sleeping together was one you consciously left out. The two of you were often on the same wavelength and silently agreed they didn’t need to know that much. The fact you both admitted feelings was information enough. Your friends could only digest so much in one night. Eventually JJ would tell John B and Pope on a guys day, and you’d have to tell Kie on a girls night, and they’d all talk to each other, and it would be a thing… but then it wouldn’t. That was usually how things went with this group. Everyone always found out everything eventually.

You and JJ took turns talking. It was the most you’d seen him open up in a while when it wasn’t just the two of you. Even though the looks on your friends' faces read like they were still unsure of how to react, your confidence grew. With every word of admiration JJ said with your name to follow, and how easily amazing moments with him appeared in your mind, you were certain you’d made the right decision. Your friends could understand that with enough time.

“I know—we know—it’s gonna take time to get used to,” you began, fiddling with your hands. They’d have to. They loved you, and they loved JJ. They’d have to accept the way you loved each other. “But do you think you can?” Wouldn’t they?

You looked between John B, Kiara, and Pope, and they exchanged glances between one another. You were sure JJ was doing the same as you.

“Yeah,” John B finally said. “You guys are our friends and if you're happy, then we’re happy for you.”

He sounded like he meant it, and as Pope and Kie nodded along, you could only hope they really did.

Your head hit the pillow with a giggle. JJ was all over you, pressing kisses to your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your chest… He slid down your body, lips leaving a trail down your stomach. His hands bunched in the dress you’d worn to dinner—your first official date out in the open—and pushed it up around your waist.

“You’re such a tease,” you said, face feeling warm as he pressed a kiss to your navel.

JJ looked up at you through his lashes and you just about passed out right there.

The day had been perfect. You needed a perfect day after telling your friends about the nature of your relationship.

You woke up with JJ’s arms around you and stayed in bed until you felt like getting up. Making breakfast wasn’t something you usually did, but Luke was absent from the house so you seized the opportunity to enjoy it. After that you and JJ went to an old movie theater you loved. He actually paid for your tickets to the first movie and the popcorn, but then you each got a thrill out of hopping between screening rooms, trying to see as many movies as you could before you got caught (which you didn’t, maybe they didn’t care enough to watch the cameras).

After, JJ took you to the house and you both changed into something nice. You didn’t even know he owned a pair of pants that went down to his ankles, and you laughed when he emphasized what a big deal it was that he was putting them on for you after you commented on it. You found a white sundress you’d been meaning to wear for the longest time but hadn’t had the opportunity to.

“It’s the perfect time,” he had said, voice full of admiration. “You look amazing.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you had tossed back, taking his arm as he led you out to his bike.

There was something about being dressed all fancy on JJ’s motorbike that felt as if you were in a scene from a film. Fear didn’t dare to creep in as you held onto his waist from behind—it knew it would be crushed by your joy.

The place you went was still on the Cut, but it was one of the nicest restaurants that your side of the island had. You would’ve gone to The Wreck, but today was just for you and JJ. Kiara wouldn’t have interfered, but you two wanted to be alone. Besides, you didn’t need Mr. or Mrs. Carerra giving you questioning looks when you and JJ ordered one slice of pie and two forks.

You weren’t even sure they had pie on the menu at The Wreck honestly, but the nice place you went did. Key Lime became a new favorite.

You talked, and laughed together, and flirted of course, and forgot the rest of the world existed. You’d never had a real boyfriend, but you could get used to this. That fact that it was JJ made it a hundred times more special. He was the one for you, you never could’ve sat across from anyone else and enjoyed yourself as much as you did with him.

You could hardly keep your hands off of one another when you got back to the house—which you still had to yourself. JJ guided you back to your room, eyes full of hunger and hands moving with intent. The fond recent memories collided with the sensations he inflicted upon you now.

You gasped when his fingers tugged at your underwear. You let him remove them without a hint of protest, and your lungs contracted when he dove between your legs without a word.

His mouth was heavenly, his tongue skilled as he ran it between your folds. You finally caught your breath when his nose rubbed against your clit.

“JJ, please,” you whined.

You felt him grin against you as he lifted his head just long enough to ask, “What is it, baby?”

Truthfully you didn’t know. Words failed you and that seemed to amuse him as he returned to eating you out like it was his favorite thing to do. It might’ve been, you wouldn’t put it past him.

Your hand tangled in his hair, tugging a little when the pressure began to build. He gripped your thighs in his strong, rough hands to keep them from squeezing around his head. JJ still needed to breathe, but you forgot that sometimes. He was so fucking good you didn’t even have to guide him. You just needed something to hold onto as he devoured you like a man starved.

His tongue worked magic between your legs, lapping at you in a way that had you tensing and shivering.

When your orgasm finally hit, you let out a moan of his name, thighs quivering around his head as he suckled at your clit. He didn’t even need to use his hands.

“I love it when you do that,” he complimented, voice heavy with arousal. Coming down from your high you couldn’t place him for a moment, only trying to catch your breath, but then he was above you. You smiled when you saw blue eyes and pink lips grinning down at you. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you managed, pressing up on your elbows to capture his lips. JJ sunk into you, giving you enough leverage to get him beneath you. You straddled him, your lips leaving his to say, “Your turn.”

Your legs laid across JJ’s lap as you laughed along with your friends. It was early in the morning, and you’d all decided to meet up at the Chateau to hang out for the day.

A couple weeks had passed since you and JJ told them all about your relationship. It was going better than you had hoped, which was an immense relief.

Not too long ago they couldn’t control their expressions—you’d catch the curious gazes and side eyes between them. Now, though? They hardly bat an eye when JJ reached for your hand or when you leaned on his shoulder. You tried to keep the PDA to a minimum, but it was easier said than done when JJ looked at you the way he did.

You honestly didn’t understand how you never noticed before.

Right now his hand rested on your thigh, his thumb gliding across your skin as you tried to keep up with what was being said.

“We’re still down to go to the beach, right?” Kiara looked around at everyone.

It wasn’t a particularly sunny day, but the plan had already been made and a few clouds weren’t going to hurt anyone.

“I've been needing a beach day,” you agreed, to which everyone nodded along.

John B clapped his hands onto his knees. “I’ll pack the cooler.”

Once that was done, you all loaded up in John B’s van and headed for the beach. He took the front and Kie took the passenger side, while you, JJ, and Pope hung out in the back.

JJ sat on the ground, his back against the wall. You sat between his bent legs, leaning your back against his chest. His arms locked around you, just holding you as you chatted to Kiara and John B up front.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Pope watching you and JJ. When you looked at his face, a hint of old nervousness threatened to appear. Then you noticed the smile. Just the slightest half smile with the corner of his lip tugged up.

“You good, Pope?” you wondered.

“Yeah, just…” He shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ve said it, but I’m happy for you guys.”

His sweet words almost brought tears to your eyes, which surprised you a bit. It was the first time any one of your friends had said something like that. The verbal acceptance made your heart skip as you tilted your head back to meet JJ’s eyes. Sure enough he was looking down at you, a smile on his face.

“Thanks, man,” JJ said to the boy across from you both.

“You guys are good together,” Kiara added from the front. She turned her body in her seat to face the two of you. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you this happy.”

As she said this, you noticed the way Pope watched her, while she seemed none the wiser. Had that been what you and JJ looked like from an outside perspective? The fact that no one suspected anything was nothing short of a miracle on his part. Things could’ve been a lot different if he had been asked too many questions at the wrong time.

You decided at that moment you wouldn’t mention anything until Pope or Kie mentioned it. It would likely be the former, it really seemed like Kiara had no clue. The thought crossed your mind that he could’ve talked to JJ, or if he hadn’t, that he should. JJ wasn’t someone anyone would think to go to for well thought out advice—he was a bit of a wildcard—but in this scenario he had been successful. It couldn’t hurt.

Although that could be saved for another time, another place. Right now you focused on what John B was saying, his head turning between the road and the back.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re not as handsome as me, but”—John B’s teasing was cut off when Kie swatted at his arm. “Hey! I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he assured quickly. You laughed while Kie shot you a wink and sat back right. JJ’s chest shook as he chuckled behind you, but his arms still tightened around your body. “Seriously though, what they said. You guys make a good couple.”

“Thank you, guys. That’s so sweet. It means a lot,” you said to the three of your friends.

“Of course.” John B threw a glance back towards JJ. “You got lucky, don’t let her go. ‘Cause she could do better.”

JJ took the taunt with a laugh. “I don’t know how she settled for me,” JJ joined in at his own expense. “But you’re not getting rid of me now.” That last part was directed at you. He rested his head on your shoulder and despite the odd angle, you managed to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Good,” you said. “‘Cause I’m not letting you go.”

The beach was in sight in a matter of moments out the window. Since it was a random weekday where the sun wasn’t all that clear, John B found a place to park his van with no problem.

You hummed in content as you and JJ walked hand in hand into the sand. You managed to lay down a towel for yourself before the light breeze kicked it up. You laid out on it with a content hum. A lazy smile spread across your face as bits of sunlight managed to beam down onto you from behind the clouds. Nothing was going to keep you from enjoying the beach. JJ took his place beside you while the others made a mad dash for the water. It was probably colder than usual, but you knew you’d get in eventually.

Comfortable silence hung in the air for a while until out of the blue JJ asked, “You remember the last time we were here?”

“It’s been a while.” You tried to recall the last time you were on this beach, but nothing specific came to mind.

The clouds moved a bit, so you shielded your eyes from the sun as you looked up at JJ. He had his knees up and leaned on them. His thoughtful expression nearly had you sitting up, but you just got comfortable, and the look in his eyes was one you came to recognize. It told you not to worry.

“You and John B were chicken fighting with Pope and Kie. And I...” JJ chuckled in spite of himself. “I was so jealous.”

You turned to lay on your back. Memories that felt like ages ago resurfaced, but they really weren’t all that distant. You recalled the chicken fight, and how you’d all gone back to that Chateau. You fell asleep on the couch talking to John B and woke up to JJ in the chair across from you. That morning filled you with just enough suspicion that you guessed something was up.

“What made you think of that?” you wondered. “‘Cause we’re back here?”

JJ shrugged. He looked out at the water, then cast his eyes down to meet yours. A light smile appeared on his lips

“I just didn’t think this was ever gonna happen. Us, I mean.” JJ let his legs fall flat and you pulled yourself to lay your head in his lap. God, you loved his smile. “But I’m really fucking happy it did.”

You grinned, unable to help yourself. “I’m really fucking happy too.”

End.

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[pitchprowler27]

Hearts On The Sidelines: Part 2

Ellie had been thinking about her encounter with the Arsenal captain for the better part of the previous day. She just can’t wrap her head around the whole situation. What are the odds that the woman in front of her that collapsed was Leah’s mom. What were the odds that Leah would flirt with HER. Ellie knows she’s an attractive woman. She may be small but the Army did wonders for her body, minus the miscellaneous scars. Just the thought of someone so attractive and well put together as The Leah Williamson finding her attractive is crazy. 

Ellie, having a rare spare moment at work, is actually on Leah’s Instagram. If you were to ask her she was just admiring the posts and the woman. If you were to ask Bobby, Ellie was full blown lurking. Was it such a bad thing that she was looking? Theres nothing wrong with looking if you ask Ellie. 

“Ells please tell me you are not drooling over her instagram again.” He asks over her shoulder “You are ridiculous! You aren’t evening following her.” 

Ellie instantly starts blushing and locks her phone “It would be weird to follow her!”

“Oh yes the woman who gets hundreds of followers each day would be so appalled if the woman who helped her mom followed her on Instagram. That’s my bad” He flops down next to her and steals her phone making Ellie gasp and trying to reach for it back. “There is been done. You’re welcome” He tosses her phone back to her. 

“What did you do!” Ellie looks at her phone and sees that he followed Leah for her. This shouldn’t unnerve her as much as it does. Ellie has literally stitched people up under heavy gun fire but following an attractive girl on Instagram, that seemed like an impossible feat. She’s always been awkward and shy outside of her craft. Growing up talking to girls, especially attractive ones, has always made her brain turn to mush. Bobby always teases her about her inability to talk to attractive woman. 

Before they could continue their conversation any further their station tones dropped. It was game time. The two quickly got into gear and were ready to take the call. There was something so peaceful in the chaos that Ellie was addicted to. If you asked her to explain the feeling she had on these high stakes high risk calls she wouldn’t be able to explain it. From the outside looking in they would never understand and from the inside looking out she could never explain. 

———————————————————————————————————————

By the time their shift ended Ellie was depleted of energy both physically and mentally. While she enjoyed the chaos it did take a lot out of her. She was getting changed in the locker room when she finally looked at her phone for the first time in hours. She felt her heart sink to her stomach and her heart rate pick up. There was an instagram notification : leahwilliamsonn requesting to follow her. 

“Bobby!!!” Ellie screamed for her friend who came rushing looking for a threat. When Ellie presented him her phone he rolled his eyes. 

“Girl, I know you that you know that you cannot scream like that for something like this” 

“This is important!!”

“It did not warrant a scream like that and you know better.” He looked at her sternly. Screaming like that meant a threat was near. Ellie did feel guilty about it after the initial shock wore off. She should’ve known it would’ve activated flight or fight for him. Its been trained and beaten into them. 

“I’m sorry you’re right but this is big!” 

“Let me see.” He takes the phone and looks at the request. He takes a long stare at her and hits accept making her jump for her phone. “You’ll thank me for this later babe, trust me”

As the two were walking out to their respective calls Ellie feels her phone vibrate and its another instagram notification. A DM from the Arsenal captain in question. 

Leah: Hey pretty girl I was wondering when you were going to accept my request.

Ellie immediately does not know what to do. She looks to her friend with a helpless look that is screaming “help me”. Bobby just grabs her phone with a friendly eye roll, looks at the message and then back to Ellie with a “are you kidding me” look. 

“Ellie you’re ridiculous. You are a grown woman, she isn’t even here what are you scared for? Just talk to her, I’m going home. Its been a long day and I have faith in you. I love you” He drops a kiss to the top of her head and gets in his car to head home. Ellie sits in hers for a moment to think about what to say. She didn’t want to seem too eager but didn’t want to have her waiting for a response. There were so many “what ifs” that scared her. 

Ellie: Hey, sorry I was kind of surprised. 

Ellie: I mean I was working so I couldn’t answer right away and was also surprised

Ellie: I was just busy

Ellie: Sorry for the rant. 

Ellie wants to throw her phone out the window. Why is she like this. Why couldn’t she just respond and be normal. No, she had to go and make it weird. Sometimes she wished she could carry her confidence from work into her personal life. No matter how hard she tried she would always be painfully awkward. 

Leah: No worries pretty girl, I just wanted to say thank you again for taking such great care of my mom. 

Ellie: Of course, not a problem. Its my job you know? Work never ends. 

Leah: Will I see you at the next Arsenal game? 

Ellie: Maybe?

Ellie: I mean I dont know I dont really watch soccer so I dont know your schedule. 

Ellie: Football, I mean football. I dont watch football. 

Ellie: Whens you game? 

Again, Ellie wants to scream or hit her head off the steering wheel. Her face is flushed with embarrassment and she’s thanking her lucky stars that Leah or Bobby isn’t here to see her like this. 

Leah: Next weekend we play Manchester City at 7. 

Ellie: I work :/ so I wont be able to make the whole game. 

Leah: That’s a shame but I guess saving lives is more important then cheering me on. I’ll be looking for you if you do decide to come. 

Ellie: I’ll try not to disappoint you

Leah: I doubt you could beautiful. 

————————————————————————————————————

Ellie makes Bobby rush from work to the game and he was 100% supportive of this endeavor. His shy little buddy trying to impress a girl, hell yeah he was down for it. They didn’t get a chance to shower or really change. Both is tactical pants and a plain black shirt they wore under their uniform. When Ellie got to the box office they told her that her tickets have been upgraded much to Ellie’s confusion. 

“Maybe your girlfriend hooked us up”

“Stop! She is not my girlfriend dont start” 

The two made their way to their new seats which were center of the field a few rows back. Ellie isn’t sure what God she has to thank for this but she is loving it. She’s close to the field and that means she is able to really look at the players, more specifically Leah. She isn’t noticed at first but when she is Leah sends her a signature smirk before getting back into the game. 

The two friends enjoyed the game and each others company. By the time full time hit Ellie was exhausted and dead on her feet. It was a long day at work and then to rush here didn’t help her. She was getting ready to leave with Bobby when she heard her name being called. 

“Ellie wait!” When she turned to see who was calling her name she shouldn’t have been surprised with was Leah jogging over to her. “Come here!” She motioned for her to walk to the railing that separated the seats from the field. By the time she made it down Leah was leaning on the rail looking up at Ellie. 

“Hey good game girl!” Bobby broke the silence that was quickly starting to build because Ellie wasn’t saying anything. 

“Thank you, did you enjoy it?” Leah was talking to both of them but looking at Ellie. 

To her credit she was pretty composed until she made eye contact with Leah. She immediately started to blush “Yeah it was nice. These seats are cool…like we were so close we could see everyone.” 

“Anyone in particular you were looking at?” Leah asked with her smirk. 

“Uh I mean everyone looked nice but you know…” Ellie stammered out trying her best to be smooth. 

“Oh I dont know what do you mean Ellie?” Bobby asked in a faux confused voice. Ellie hit him in the stomach muttering out a “stop it”. 

“Yeah pretty girl what do you mean?” Leah was feeding into this and enjoying that Ellie was a blushing mess. 

“You weren’t horrible to look at.” 

“Wasn’t horrible to look at…I’ll take it pretty girl.” Leah gave her a soft smile before stepping back. “You want to come out on the field?” 

Just as Ellie was about to decline Bobby jumped at the opportunity to go onto the pitch especially if it meant helping Ellie out. He gracefully hopped the railing with ease. Ellie was looking for an easier way to get down or maybe the world would take it easy on her, open up and swallow her whole. 

“Come on pretty girl I got you” Ellie blushed even more as both Leah and Bobby helped her over the rail. She mumbled out a quiet thank you and continue to enjoy her conversation with Leah. It was fascinating to her how easy going Leah was. On the pitch she commanded everyones attention and off the pitch it was the same. She did it like second nature to her. 

“You’ll have to excuse her awkwardness. She can’t help it, trust me I’ve tried but she’s hopeless. She’s served overseas as a medic but can’t handle a pretty blonde in front of her.” 

Ellie’s eyes got huge at what bobby just said to her crush. Just as Ellie was about to say something Leah cut her off, “Oh I don’t mind at all. I think its cute and if a pretty girl like Ellie gets flustered around me then I consider that a win.” 

“Oh.” Ellie responses making Leah laugh even though that wasn’t her intention. 

“That’s all you got to say pretty girl? No a woman of many words” 

“I just…you know” 

Leah gives her a soft smile making Ellie’s knees go weak. Okay, maybe she’s happy that the world didn’t open up and swallow her whole, especially if Leah is looking at her like that. 

“Are you going to stay for the fireworks?” 

Ellie and Bobby both look at each other with unease. Loud noises followed by intense brightness, no their thing since they’ve gotten home. Not that she would admit that right now. She thinks she could suffer through it if it meant Leah would look at her like that again. She was going to say yes but she could feel the start of her hands shaking. She made fists and hid them behind her back. “You know, they aren’t my thing but thank you” Ellie declines feeling her pulse quicken at the thought of not getting out of their in time. 

Leah doesn’t miss a beat and assures her that its okay. Out of nowhere she takes her jersey off leaving Ellie forgetting her anxiety. Leah is saying something and holding it out to her. When Ellie doesn’t respond Leah repeats herself again. “Take my jersey so next time you have something to wear.” 

Ellie just silently takes it from her hands trying not to stare at Leah’s toned body. “Uh…okay” again, she makes Leah laugh with her few words. 

“Until next time pretty girl"

[deakyjoe]

Burnt Cake & Melted Ice Cream

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Reader

Category: friends to lovers, and they were roommates!

Summary: Gaz returns home from deployment earlier than expected.

Warnings: fluff, kissing, best friends to lovers, reader can’t bake, reader is a bit of a chaotic mess, that’s it I think

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: How am I supposed to pay attention to anything this man is saying when he’s got those big beautiful brown eyes? They’re distracting! Dedicated to @sofasoap who I asked ages ago for advice on this and then never actually got it finished <3

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The cake was burning.

You were blissfully unaware.

Blissful may have been an exaggeration. Unaware was not. In fact, you were entirely too busy cleaning up your living room for the arrival of your best friend and roommate whose plane was scheduled to land in two hours time. You were trying not to panic as you were nowhere near ready to welcome him home and certainly not prepared to leave to go and pick him up from the airport within the next hour. You hadn't even showered yet!

It was a regular thought in your brain about how it was possible for you to make your home such a mess when Gaz was away. It's not like he was regularly doing the housekeeping. But maybe his absence meant that there was no one to keep you in check.

So this happened every time he was on his way home. You'd sweat as you desperately tried to scrub away any evidence of your sinful sloth state while he was away. And hate yourself for leaving it to the last minute as always.

You were knocked out of your hypnotic cleaning state by someone at your front door. Not knocking. Just making a vague scratching sound against the wood. Your first instinct was to attack. In self defence of course. So you grabbed the item closest to you - a bottle of furniture polish.

With the metal tube gripped tightly in two hands, you made your way towards the door where it now sounded like someone was attempting to pick the lock. You desperately tried to remember the moves Gaz had taught you to ward off stranger danger. None of it was coming back to you.

So with the furniture polish held high above your head, and a scream ready to leave your lungs, you waited for the intruder.

You were pleasantly surprised when a familiar face emerged from behind the door and sent you the smile that made the edges of his brown eyes crinkle.

“Hey- what are you doing?” Gaz’s face dropped as he took in your attack stance, gaze flicking over the bottle in your hands back towards your open mouth.

Your hands fell back to your sides, your heart rate decreasing rapidly in relief. “I thought somebody was breaking in!”

“With a key?” He held up the little metal object for you to see.

You sniffed and folded your arms across your chest. “Picking the lock.”

“Ah, right.” He nodded in understanding.

You suddenly realised that he shouldn’t be standing in front of you in your home at that time. "What are you doing here? Your flight isn't supposed to land for another two hours! I'm supposed to be picking you up at the airport!"

Your best friend shrugged. "Yeah, I lied."

You frowned. "Why?"

"Wanted to surprise you."

"But I wanted to surprise you! I baked a cake!”

He unsuccessfully stifled a laugh. “Why did you bake a cake?”

“Welcome home present or something, I don’t know.” You sighed and looked at him properly for the first time, suddenly thankful he was home and healthy. "I missed you."

Gaz visibly relaxed. "I missed you too."

As the two of you embraced with a warm hug, you remembered what state you were in.

You pushed away from him and looked down at yourself. "Shit, I haven't even gotten dressed yet."

He reached out and playfully tugged on the hem of your shirt. "I like you in your pyjamas."

"Not exactly the prettiest sight to come home to though, is it?" You scoffed and slapped his hand away.

He closed the door behind him and kicked his bags to the side. "Do you think I care? I'm just happy to see your face again."

"You've got that photo of me." You countered, starting to walk back to the kitchen.

He followed. "Nothing beats the real thing."

"Well, I can agree with that." You said with a mock arrogant sniff.

With a laugh, Gaz thought about something. "You been wearing that t-shirt I gave you?"

"Yeah.” You glanced away bashfully. “Stole another one from your wardrobe too."

"Why?"

"First one stopped smelling like you." You confessed, stopping in your tracks when the distinct smell of burning hit your nose. You ran towards the oven, switching it off and wrenching the door open. Smoke spilled out in a black cloud. "It's all gone to shit."

Gaz looked over your shoulder. "It's okay. I wasn't very hungry anyway."

You knew he was lying. "You sure?"

"Yeah." He smiled softly at you. "Ice cream?"

You nodded, appreciating how he was sparing your feelings. "Ice cream."

Ice cream was always the solution for the two of you. Bad day at work? Ice cream. Terrible first date? Ice cream. Feeling down? Ice cream. It always worked.

As you pulled the piece of charcoal that was supposed to be a cake out from the oven, Gaz seemed to hesitate at the sight of the ice cream.

“Uhhh…”

You groaned. “What? Don’t tell me we’re out.”

“No, not out.” He paused.

“What then?”

He looked at you with apology in his eyes. "I think our freezer's broken."

“It’s what?!” You gasped, running to his side only to find out that he was correct. Everything in there was very defrosted. Including the completely thawed ice cream which had leaked from its tub into a large melted puddle. “Aw, shit.”

“It’s okay.”

You could’ve cried. “No, it’s not. I just wanted it to be all nice for you when you got home this time and look! I fucked it all up.”

“Broken appliances aren’t your fault.” He swung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close next to him, burying his nose in the top of your head. Physical affection wasn't uncommon between the two of you. It was, in fact, the back-up plan for when ice cream was out of the picture. “Besides, coming home to you is enough.”

“Shut up, Garrick.” You mumbled but didn’t push him away, instead choosing to wrap your arms around his torso to hug him closer to you.

“Let’s just sit down, order some food and watch a movie, yeah?”

“Alright.” You sighed, letting him drag you back to the living room when the two of you collapsed into the pile of cushions and blankets that you had failed to tidy up before his early arrival.

“Did a bomb go off in here or something?” Gaz looked around the room and took in the disarray.

“Was cleaning.” You grumbled into his shoulder. “Wanted it to be nice.”

“Mhm, you said.” He paused. “Do you always do this before I come home?”

“Yes.” You sat up to look at him again. “You deserve it.”

The two of you held eye contact for a few seconds, probably too long to be called platonic but you pushed the thought away. Until Gaz spoke.

"I thought about you a lot while I was away."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the possible connotations behind that broad statement. "I'm flattered. Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to remember your best friend back home. Really appreciate it."

He shook his head. "No, I mean- I mean I thought about you all the time. All the time."

That caught you off guard.

"Really?" You squeaked.

Gaz chuckled. "Yeah."

"Why?" You knew why.

He uttered your name softly, resisting the urge to reach out and touch you. Why did it suddenly feel wrong to touch you? “I think you know why.”

“Say it.”

He didn’t want to be too forthcoming with it. So he settled on something he hoped to be more gentle and subtle. “The thing we’ve always avoided talking about. Even when people imply it.”

“Kyle…” You rarely used his first name. Nobody did. It was reserved for particular moments. You decided this was one of them.

He took it the wrong way. “No, I get it. You don’t feel- that’s okay. I’m sorry for-“

“No, that’s now what I-“ You cut yourself off with a frustrated huff. "I just don't want this to be some fleeting thought you had whilst getting shot at because I'm the closest person in your life."

His eyebrows shot up. "It's not."

“No?”

“No, I promise.”

You watched him for a moment, the sincerity that was pouring off of him. Maybe he was being serious, maybe he truly meant it. You figured there was only one way to test it.

“Kiss me.”

He looked shocked. "Kiss you?"

"Yes, kiss me."

"You want me to kiss you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Kyle. I want you to kiss me."

He sat up straighter, fixing his posture. "Okay, I'm gonna kiss you."

"You better." You laughed.

"Alright, I'm about to kiss you."

"Just shut up and kiss me, Garrick."

And he did. With one hand on the side of your face, the other on one of your thighs and yours tangling in the front of his shirt. The two of you kissed for the first time. It was long overdue, the both of you knew it as soon as your lips touched. It was sweet, and tender, and almost a little desperate, and it felt right.

The two of you pulled back for air with a slightly shy giggle.

"Please tell me that worked for you. Because it really worked for me." He mumbled, swiping his thumb across your cheek.

“Oh, it really did.” You replied, leaning back in to kiss him again which he was only too happy to reciprocate.

The burnt cake, the melted ice cream, the untidy room, and any previous doubts went forgotten for the rest of the night.

A/N: it’s a crime how long it’s taken me to write for Gaz :(

[waywardstation]

Don't Fall Asleep

Chapter 1

Something has started disrupting Ingo in the middle of the night and waking him up, and it seems like it's getting progressively more dangerous with each visit. Something about the eerie occurrences are not adding up, and Ingo is growing more and more exhausted as time goes on. Akari wants to help find out what's haunting him and stop it before something serious happens to him.

This has been an interesting fic to write. Two times now I've tried to write a fic based on a certain prompt, but by the end it's changed so much it's a different fic altogether. This fic is the result of my second attempt to finish the original. Perhaps one day I'll finish it haha, but I hope you enjoy this one! Seems fitting for Halloween ^^

Be aware near the end of this chapter, there is a scene of fabricated fatal injury.

OR read on AO3!

Enjoy!

—————

It shouldn’t be this cold.

Ingo’s first thought murmured in his head, barely registered over the loud bang that jolted him from sleep. He found himself looking up through the darkness and at the ceiling of his tent — the thick fabric above was moving, dim except for a blur of ambient light that stretched up the wall and reached across it. 

Something was howling. And still slamming.

Rubbing the frost from his heavy eyes, Ingo turned onto his back and sat up to properly assess the room.

It was impossible not to immediately notice that the doors to his tent were open and loose, wind swinging them back into the walls repeatedly. And the warm light from his now-opened furnace had been snuffed out, replaced with a cold, dim glare from the snowstorm raging outside. Snow was piled at the entrance and scattered across the floor, as well as sprinkled across his own bed and belongings. 

How did that happen?

Shivering, Ingo pulled back his blankets and left its waning warmth to approach the entrance, picking Gliscor’s Pokéball off his table on the way over. Steadying the doors with his hands, he used one of his feet to shove most of the snowpile back out through the door. When that was taken care of, he took a cautious glance outside, squinting into the hazy storm.

Clan members had told him that the Zoroark packs would grow more comfortable with approaching the settlement when the temperatures dropped to even more unforgiving temperatures, and the nights grew longer. 

Was it already time for that? Had one of them tried to get into his room? Had it actually entered and then left?

He didn’t think he would have been left unharmed if one had. And his supplies surely wouldn’t have been left alone either.

Perhaps a curious Zorua, then? But Zorua couldn’t reach up high enough to open the tent doors… unless he hadn’t truly secured the locks when he went to bed, perhaps.

Ingo looked over his shoulder into the dark room to check if the assumed intruder was still here somehow, pressed into a corner or hunched under his bed frame. But there was nothing in the darkness, of course. No sharp eyes glowing from the corners, no ominous forms blending in with the furniture. Not even any snowy footprints smeared on the floorboards. 

Turning back to face the flurry rushing outside the doorway one last time, Ingo stared into the spaces between the snowfall. No forms, no figures, nothing. He could barely even see the trees through the flurry, the white-dusted forms bending and swaying with the gale.

Something about it was unnerving.

But the intruder was long gone now, if it had even been here in the first place.

Ingo shut the door, one last rush of cold pushing through as the howling wind was muffled, and the ambient light was swallowed by darkness. Locking it securely, he pulled on the doors to double-check this time. The man sighed, a cloud of breath fading into the air. The wind was no longer tormenting him, but it was still freezing inside. Too cold to sleep comfortably.

Moving towards the frozen furnace, Ingo set Gliscor’s Pokéball back with the rest on the table before crouching down. The fire inside had gone out completely, leaving a dark hollow in its place.

Something had to have done that, surely. The wind may have been able to extinguish it, but it would not have been able to swing open the locked hatch.

Reaching out for his wood supply tucked into a low shelf nearby, Ingo placed three more logs into the furnace and sparked a small flame. It quickly illuminated the insides with a warm orange as it steadily began flickering across the logs, and Ingo shut the furnace door before any embers could jump out.

The only thing left to do was get back into bed and wait for the room to heat back up. Ingo trudged across the wooden floorboards and pulled back his somewhat-warm sheets to curl up under them.

With his head sinking into his pillows, Ingo let out an exasperated sigh as he tried to make himself comfortable under the covers. His heavy eyes scanned the room one last time — nothing. No movement, no sounds, and no wind, save for the storm now muffled outside. There was only the soft, swelling glow of the furnace working hard to thaw the freeze that had settled.

Ingo relented to the heaviness and closed his eyes, but deep down, he expected he probably wouldn't be falling back asleep. It had always been difficult for him to do so once he was roused. 

And the thought that someone or something had been in his room while he was asleep was admittedly unnerving.

So with eyes closed, he listened to the snowstorm rushing outside, buried under his insulated blankets in a haze as the hours melted together, until a bleak daybreak began to brighten his tent’s canvas. It was difficult to get out of bed and travel down to Jubilife Village’s training grounds that day, he didn’t feel well-rested at all.

—————

Six nights later, Ingo once again found himself blinking into the darkness, shivering under his blankets like he’d been sleeping in deep cold for half an hour. 

Another bang of the door against the wall, and more howling of the wind rushed in to greet him. 

More snow scattered across the floor and his belongings.

Ingo sat up quicker this time, eyes scanning the room. His heart jolted when his gaze met with a dark silhouette hunched over the end of his bed, large yellow eyes staring at him.

The eyes blinked and the head tilted. What had once startled Ingo now put him at ease.

“Gliscor,” Even amongst the wind and snow rushing inside, Ingo sunk back into his blankets with a sigh of relief. His ace must have exited his Pokéball and chased off whatever had entered his room. “You’re keeping watch, aren’t you?”

The eyes blinked again, and slowly Gliscor reached upwards to hang from the rafters by his tail, hunching back into the darkness where he felt comfortable. The only sounds made were the creaking of his carapace, and his soft chittering.

Once again, Ingo removed himself from his bed, shoved out all the snow at the entrance (and took another peek outside, to of course find nothing. The swaying tree line in the distance still caught his gaze for more than a moment, though), and re-lit his furnace — much more swiftly this time, knowing Gliscor was there and at ease. It meant he at least had the comfort of knowing no wild beast was hiding in his room with him this time.

“Did you see anything out there?” Ingo spoke aloud into the room as he locked the doors and checked their security.

“Scorrr,” Connecting eyes, Gliscor chittered reluctantly. Perhaps he hadn’t seen what it was either.

“That is alright, I appreciate the vigilance all the same.” Ingo yawned as he buried himself back under the warm blankets, looking up above him at the rafters. Gliscor stared back down and chittered, large eyes now catching the furnace’s dim flicker. Ingo could feel his companion’s gaze linger on the back of his head, before he heard his carapace creak as he shifted to watch the door. “Goodnight, Gliscor.”

He was probably going to have to bring this semi-nightly occurrence up at the Pearl Clan’s next morning meeting, he thought.

Eventually the sun rose up over the snowy mountains after another haze of hours went by. Ingo noticed somewhere during that time Gliscor must have returned to his ball, as the room was empty when he finally moved to leave his bed, groggy and exhausted.

—————

Five nights later, Ingo had once again awoken to the same exact scene. A frozen, scattered room that had been opened up to the harsh cold, and a confused Gliscor crammed up above him in the rafters, tail hanging down and wide eyes watching over him. 

He got up and swept the snow out once again, but something felt different this time.

“Do you sense anything out there tonight?” Ingo turned up to his companion, scrunched up under his own wings in the rafters. Gliscor didn’t move from where he sat, but his large yellow eyes were focused intently out the door.

Ingo followed Gliscor’s gaze out into the snowstorm. Like every other night, the tree line could barely be seen, bending with the rushing snow. Ingo squinted, trying to see them better, but he quickly decided to stop — staring too long was warping one of the closer trees to look like, well… something was standing there.

It sent dread through him, but no, it was just a tall, thin tree, dark against the snowstorm. He was starting to see things.

Rubbing his eyes as he locked the door, Ingo relit his furnace, climbed back into his now-cold bed, and sighed.

“Goodnight, Gliscor.” “Gliii,” 

Buried under his blankets, Ingo’s gaze was lazily drawn to the small window openings in his door. He watched the snow rush by behind them, blurred and long and wispy. He closed his eyes, accepting this was going to be another sleepless night that dragged on until sunrise. 

He really needed to bring this up again at their next morning meeting. It was concerning that it felt like every single night this happened was just the exact same night, repeating itself.

Maybe they needed a nightwatch. Some extra eyes around the settlement’s perimeter at night, to keep scavengers at bay. Maybe he’d suggest that tomorrow.

—————

Four nights later, Ingo did not wake up to the expected sight of his ceiling. 

He awoke to the sideways expanse of dark snow and distant mountains, with the wind and snow screaming in his ears. Cold bit deep into muscles and bare skin where it had seeped into his clothes and dragged against his face. 

Dragged.

He was being pulled–

The tug of his leg, void of feeling but aware of the strain, became obvious once it was suddenly dropped in the snow like deadweight. Ingo choked on a cloud of frozen breath and scrambled to push himself upright with numb limbs.

He was in the middle of the snowstorm, frigid wind lashing him. 

Hands went to his waist for Pokéballs that weren't there. Looking around frantically to both gain his bearings and try to spot his kidnapper, Ingo spotted his distant tent obscured by sheets of slurry. The doors were open to the darkness inside, and a trench of disrupted snow trailing behind him led all the way back to it. 

Something had dragged him out here. And while that something seemed to now be long gone, it had managed to pull him all the way out of his tent, through the settlement, and a good distance into the howling wastes.

Where was the night watch? There was absolutely no one out here, as far as he could see. How had no one seen this happening? He couldn’t even see any telltale signs of them in the distance. No lantern lights or anything.

Ingo stumbled to his frozen feet and quickly made his way back to the open doors on shaky legs, teeth chattering and mind thoroughly rattled. Entering his snow-scattered room, he noticed it was quiet in a way it hadn’t been the last few nights.

There was no dark shape up in the rafters, no yellow eyes watching him from open spaces between furniture. And there hadn’t been outside, either. 

Gliscor was not out this time. Had this thing even bested his own Pokémon with its stealth?

It unnerved him that whatever had done this had gotten as far as it had undetected. Had it adapted, learning it had to be sneakier?

He looked out through the door before shutting it quickly. There was nothing to be seen out there, and still no flickering lights from anyone keeping watch — there never was anything, but he felt like something was still out there.

This is no longer safe, Ingo thought, new fire flaring in his furnace as he threw his heavy pile of blankets back over himself, having added four more to the pile. His Pokéballs had now been moved beneath his pillow rather than the bedside table, and he released Gliscor. This time, he kept his companion with him on his bed, his long heavy wings draped over like another blanket.

Settling back under his covers once more, Ingo’s side swelled before he released a massive, exhausted sigh through his nose. This was getting to be ridiculous, what was going on? If it wasn’t Zoroark season at the start of all this, it had to be now. He was going to have to bring this up again in the next meeting, because it was not being taken seriously enough. But no one else was reporting occurrences like this. Was it only bothering him? He didn’t–

Ingo’s thoughts halted as his eyes adjusted to the dark. In the shadowed corner of the room and behind one of his cabinets, there was a single long tendril, stark against the darkness. Wispy and white, it hung in the air, suspended as if it was underwater. 

That hadn’t been there before.

Something about the sight made Ingo’s chest flutter, sick. What was–?

He didn’t know what happened next, as suddenly he was blinking exhaustion from his heavy eyes. It was morning, Gliscor was gone, and his blankets had been tossed about, now strewn around the bed and floor rather than piled on top to insulate him; he found himself to be freezing, and it felt like he had been for some time. 

Had he nodded off and somehow slept through the rest of the night without any blankets on him? That wasn’t good.

His eyes ached, heavy with exhaustion — he sure felt like he didn’t sleep well. Groaning, he pulled himself out of bed while he wrapped one of his thickest blankets around himself. He had to warm himself up by his furnace a little before getting ready for the day. 

He was intent on reporting this at the morning meeting — how had he been allowed to be dragged that far out unnoticed? They had told him they’d have people stationed outside, on the lookout for any Zoroark. If this had happened to him, it could happen to anyone.

Maybe he should go back to sleeping at his other place tucked away in the highlands. He stayed in the settlement around winter by choice, but maybe it would be safer to leave. Maybe this thing would stop tormenting him then.

Ingo threw a glance over at his cabinet one more time.

As expected, the wisp was gone, like it had never been there in the first place. But his dread was not. It settled in his chest as he hunched in front of his furnace.

—————

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Ah, good afternoon, Miss Akari… my cab could be in better shape, I admit.” Ingo sighed while rubbing at his eyes with the heel of a hand, as if the act itself was exasperating. His words sounded clogged. “My sleep schedule has been somewhat derailed lately.”

Akari moved to sit down on the bench next to Ingo, though she kept her distance, sitting on the other end. Rather than proudly standing at his post before the training grounds’ battlefield, he had secluded himself back against one of its walls. With his posture even more slouched than usual, he was bundled with extra layers, his stuffy nose practically in a steaming cup of tea. 

While the days had been growing colder, Ingo had easily dealt with much worse than this. And he never opted to sit down while at the training grounds unless he absolutely had to.

“Sounds like you’ve got a cold. Do you need anything?”

“No no, I can assure you I am not ill, do not worry.” Ingo sniffed. He was not oblivious to the way she was leaning away from him, clearly wary. “There was simply a mishap last night.”

“Oh.” Only then did Akari scooch closer to him – she was growing curious now, anyway. “Well, what happened?”

Ingo sniffed again. He didn’t even know where to start, really. “It seems that there is a Pokémon that continues to enter my home every few nights while I am asleep, but I cannot fathom why. It never steals any supplies, nor does it damage anything. And while it hasn’t… explicitly harmed me yet, I’m afraid the possibility is rising. Initially I brushed it off, but I am concerned that doing so has only intensified things. It is making sleep difficult.”

“Hmm.” Akari began to gently swing her legs on the bench, bumping her heels against the dirt. “Is it a Zoroark? It’s nothing you haven’t handled before.”

“Possibly, though it seems rather unlikely at this point.” 

Ingo thought back on that morning's meeting with some regret. He supposed he had embarrassed himself by asking why he had been allowed to be dragged out all the way into the wastes in the middle of the night, and why nightwatch seemed to be completely absent, having been nowhere to be seen throughout the whole incident. 

Other members had responded back that actually nightwatch had been active last night. They had people stationed around the settlement last night, and none of them had ever seen anything enter his home or drag him out. No one had seen him running back either. 

He had been in his tent the entire night, according to them.

After the meeting, one of the clan’s elders had taken him aside. He told him that they were only taking his words seriously without any proof of incident, setting up a nightwatch based on his word alone because he was a respected warden. But if it was all a false alarm — bad dreams, or sleepwalking, perhaps — then he best try not to embarrass himself in front of the whole clan with such confidence.

Ingo’s frown pulled thinking about it. He felt it best not to share any of that with Akari.

“A Zorua, then?”

“Afraid not.” Ignoring the fact that he doubted it could have even opened the front doors, a Zorua certainly could not drag him that far out of his own tent by his leg.

“Misdreavus?”

“No,” A delayed but confident answer; not once had he been woken by any child-like screams that the species were well known for.

“Um, Haunter?” 

“I’d… say not.” That one was more difficult, but ultimately, it wouldn't have needed to open his doors to enter. Right?

“What about Froslass?”

“Apologies, but I don’t believe any of these quite fit the identity of my intruder.”

“Well, what if it’s not even a Pokémon then?”

“I’d have to say I doubt that,” But a part of him briefly considered it.

Ingo knew what Akari was referring to. About the solitary wisps she’d come upon, wandering through the wilds in isolation after the sun had set. About the ghost stories the clans’ kids told each other, concerning souls of the long-dead settlement to the south roaming into their village from the wastes. Wanting to inhabit their homes as if they were their own.

Pokémon, he could deal with. He knew Pokémon. But the supernatural, he wasn’t so sure about.

“How can you be sure? Have you even seen what it looks like?” The teen continued to poke at the subject.

“It only arrives when I am asleep, and has always departed by the time I wake up. And I cannot fight off sleep indefinitely, Miss Akari.” Even now, the thought of getting quality rest made his muscles ache for it.

“Yeah, but I can!” Akari reconsidered her words when Ingo threw her a ‘please do not try that’ look. “I mean, I can do it in your place – stay awake when you won’t! I can stay with you tonight; I’ll keep watch when you go to sleep, so when this intruder comes in, I’ll be there to catch it!” She seemed to be making herself more excited over the idea as she went on. “We can make it a sleepover!”

“While I do appreciate the offer Miss Akari, under these circumstances I must decline.” Ingo was not keen on the possibility of getting the teen involved with this… thing, whatever it was. Her generally superficial reception to it told him she might not have realized just how alarming this situation was, either. “Besides, the Pearl Clan has recently decided to begin patrolling the settlements’ borders after nightfall. And I’ve decided to keep my own Pokémon out with me for now. I am certain this mystery intruder will not enter so effortlessly anymore.”

“Oh come ooooon,” Set on persuading him, Akari began chanting. “Sleep o-ver. Sleep o-ver. Sleep o-ver!”

“How about I let you know if I believe your services are required.” He compromised, taking another sip of his tea.

“Ohhh,” Akari knew what that meant, but she couldn’t force it, she supposed. She kicked at the dirt again, unsatisfied but accepting. “Fine.”

Ingo took another sip from his tea and dipped his head forward. He did not feel ready for the day.

—————

Three nights later. Ingo laid there as he blinked awake, finding himself staring at the ceiling once again. The wind was howling and open doors were slamming against the wall. Just as expected.

He turned onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows, eyes heavy and mind foggy. The furnace was out once again, and snow was piled at the door, just like it always was.

As he swung his legs over the side of the bed and began to cross the cold floors, Ingo realized with some discontent that the novel fear of the situation had begun to fade somewhat – it felt more like concerned caution now, or participating in a routine. Symptoms of someone who was growing too comfortable with the circumstances, and that made Ingo… uncomfortable.

Maybe it was because he had Gliscor out with him now, sleeping up above him from the rafters. 

Or maybe it was just because a few too many nights of bad sleep had worn out the senses. He didn’t know.

The doors were closed and locked once again, and Ingo turned, yawning as he approached the furnace to light it. Crouching down, he reached for the firewood and sparked a flame, before shutting the small door and securing the latch.

“Is it all clear, Gliscor?” Ingo asked out loud as he watched the flame flicker, making sure it would grow brighter instead of smolder. His companion had been rather quiet; had he even noticed if anything had come in? 

There was no answer, however. Was Gliscor asleep? As a nocturnal Pokémon, Ingo would have thought he would have been very alert right now– 

“Gliscor?” Ingo tried again. He looked up from where he was crouching to search for his companion, but fell back onto the floor instead.

Gliscor was not here. Not in the rafters, not by the bed, nowhere at all.

Instead, there was something else. It almost blended in entirely with the darkness that accumulated back there, but…

Two legs.

Two long, dark legs, thin as could be, back against the wall and right next to his headboard. A heart-stopping visual all on its own, made worse as Ingo’s eyes followed them all the way up into the rafters above. He couldn’t see where they ended, being lost to the darkness. 

But sticking out of that darkness to hang down were the same wispy white tendrils, suspended like cobwebs in the air. Like hair.

That same white wisp from last time.

It was like whatever was standing there was bent over backwards just to fit under the roof.

Whatever it was… It was in his room. It was next to his bed. It had been standing above him. 

A bolt of terror struck him, but before he could say or do anything, a loud crack exploded from behind. A tremor, then snow burst into the air and dim light intruded through the sudden gaping hole in the room that used to be the tent’s entrance — Ingo found himself on the floor with half of his room missing, as if the wall had been ripped off.

What-?

His instincts told him to look back, to not let whatever was by his bedside out of sight. A quick look over his shoulder though, and there was nothing there. It was gone, just an empty wall now in its place. Ingo stared back out past the jagged boards and torn fabric of his open wall into the flurry, almost dazed as the static in his ears gave way to distant shouts, cracking wood, and enraged bellows amongst the wind.

Something was attacking the village.

Was it the… thing that he had just seen? Was it responsible for the hole in his wall? 

Getting to his feet, Ingo took one look back at his wrecked room, exposed to the elements. Snow was piling up on the floor and furniture (some of which were now knocked over), and scraps of cloth and fabric were flapping in the wind. His belongings were strewn all about now.

But there were definitely no long, dark legs. It hadn’t hidden – nothing was peeking down from the now-crooked rafters. The sense of dread was still there, heavy in his chest, but it felt different. It was not from its presence anymore.

The screams and commotion were growing louder, now. He had to help – perhaps that is where Gliscor had gone too. Turning, Ingo hastily grabbed for his hat and tunic, pulling them on as he slipped into his shoes. Then a move to collect his Pokéballs, stuffing them into his tattered coat’s pockets as he pulled it off the hook from which it hung.

The snowstorm fully embraced him with its stinging cold as he stumbled out of the debris, rushing away from his tent and into the extensive blackness.

It was near impossible to see anything through the combination of heavy darkness and thick snowfall, but he could hear everything. He was surrounded by the sound of shouting and crashing, stomping and roaring, all distorted by the storm. Visceral and unrelenting, it sounded like a massacre.

Terror gripped at his heart – there were men, women, and children here who were not equipped to defend themselves from something like this, not in the middle of the night. If whatever had been in his room was going from home to home, attacking whoever was inside–

More screams somewhere ahead of him, and what sounded like wood splintering. Roaring.

“Hey!” Ingo squinted as the flurry continued to berate him, calling out to someone, anyone. The only answer was more screaming and crashing. It sounded like a home was being torn apart. Pulling his coat closed around himself, he hurried towards the sounds.

If he had his bearings correct, then Urb’s family’s home should have been up ahead.

Ingo’s ears suddenly rang, and the sounds died. Instead, a murky, unrecognizable shape came into view, revealing itself to be a pulverized Pearl Clan tent as he got closer.

“Urb!” Ingo called out for the clan member as he approached, kicking through the snow. The home was unsalvageable, wind howling as it rushed through the openings in the twisted boards that were bent and broken beyond repair. He stepped around the fragmented belongings scattered across the snow, hand ready to grab his Pokéballs from his coat pocket.

There was no answer, so he tried to call for the young man again. “ Urb!”

The wind blew over the last intact pot in the home as he stepped inside, shattering it at his feet and across the broken floorboards.

“Leuca!” He called next for Urb’s sister, then their elderly mother. “Platea!”

The fabric coverings tore as part of the structure weakened, the boards bending a little more. Ingo covered his head reflexively, but thankfully it held.

“Does anyone need assistance!” A sudden rush of the gale tried to drown him out with its howling.

No voices answered him. No calls, no groans, no nothing. Peeking into the wreckage, Ingo found no one. 

He was alone here, standing in the wreckage of this abandoned home.

Ingo was too frazzled to decide if that was a good or bad thing. 

Another boom cut through the silence to rattle him, with distant screams following behind. It was as if the source had moved, and was trying to taunt him… or lure him. Ingo’s chest felt sick — what was going on?

But he found he couldn’t ignore it; leaving the site behind, he ventured out into the sheets of flurry again. And again, he was surrounded by the terrifying sounds of a fight, of a vicious, heavy beast relentlessly going after his people. But he kept pushing forward towards the noise regardless. He couldn’t see, but the incline beneath his feet told him he was pressing uphill.

It was Vicus and Rema’s house that he came across next. They had children in there.

Even more destroyed than the last, only one wall of this tent was left standing, barely – the storm was pushing against it, intent on separating it from the last stretch of canvas and rope that kept it up. The rest of the home had fallen inward; he couldn’t have searched inside if he wanted to.

“Rema!” Ingo called out when he thought he spotted someone lying limp in the snow, but it was only one of their spare tunics, half-buried under the growing sheets of white. “Vicus?”

Another gust, and the storm finally ripped the wall free. The last remaining side of the home collapsed onto the rest of the debris with a crash, and the canvas was taken, lost to the wind.

“Humi? Asty?” Ingo reluctantly called out the names of their children, though at this point he felt he’d receive no answer either.

He stood before the fallen home, shivering in the cold until another explosive crash several yards away brought another bout of screaming and crashing. Ingo turned and ran into the snowstorm once again, trying to catch up with the storm-warped roaring.

Ingo heaved out clouds of air, pushing through the snow that was beginning to seep higher into his pant legs – it felt like it was getting deeper. Where was everyone? Where was the nightwatch that was supposed to be out, patrolling the settlement? Where was Gliscor? He should have ran into someone by now. It was like he was entirely alone out here in the settlement, like this thing was going house to house, snatching away everyone inside and destroying everything as it did so. But it hadn’t done it to him, he was still here. Why? The entity in his home – was this a Zoroark, relying on illusions? Was it trying to trick him specifically? That didn’t make sense. If this was some kind of strategy, this was the worst, most calculated attack he’d ever seen. What was going on? This wasn’t right—

Another abandoned house, smashed to rubble with no one in sight. Pressing past it and pushing uphill, he found even more wreckage, with the snow working hard to bury it entirely. The sounds of fighting were always just out of reach, he was never fast enough, and was always left to find the horrible aftermath.

“Irida! Gaeric!” Ingo threw out into the flurry. He was becoming desperate at this point; the further uphill he got, the closer he was getting to her, and to the center of the settlement. Everything was there–

His chest squeezed again, his limbs were starting to grow numb. This couldn’t be happening.

It was still impossible to see anything through the snowfall. If he hadn’t passed by all those homes, Ingo would have started to wonder if he somehow wandered out into the barren wastes instead. He raised his hand, ready to call out again, when a bellow reverberated through the air. 

It was not somewhere far off this time. There was no distance to distort it.

This time, the call was unmistakable.

To his left, a hulking shape stood out in the storm. Ragged and sharp like the destroyed tents, it was different in that it was moving and breathing. Unkempt fur stuck up in tufts, rustling in the wind where it hadn’t frozen over in patches. Sharp Icicles jutted up in curves like frosted scythes, and bright eyes surrounded by black, sunken shadows were trained on him.

Ingo froze. Here was the one responsible for demolishing the entire village. One of his worst fears had come true – the behemoth had finally put in the effort and found a way to get itself across the river to reach their settlement, and had found him again. He was always sure on some level, Draugr would have wanted to finish him off – it was why he always took such care to avoid Avalugg’s legacy. Confusion and terror teamed up to stop Ingo in his tracks entirely.

Draugr’s challenging roar rumbled through Ingo’s rib cage. The hulking Mamoswine took a step forward, slow and purposeful. Ingo in turn took a step back, quick and unsure.

His shaking hand flew to the Pokéballs in his coat pockets, only to find they were… empty. He went to his other pocket, then his belt. They weren’t on him. Where were they? He had grabbed them, he knew he had. They were supposed to be in there–

It was just the two of them out here, and he had nowhere to go.

Draugr huffed, heavy and forceful, lowered his head, and charged. 

His bellow was deeper than Ingo remembered, scarier, louder. His frame was bigger. His tusks were longer, sharper and splintered into more sharp points than he could count. His eyes were warped, and his once-heavy movements lacked their drag.

He was worse than Ingo had recalled in every way. 

Ingo’s instincts screamed at him, yelling that he needed to get out of the way. Yet the snow held onto his legs when he tried, and he found he could not move. Not like how he wanted to. Maybe it was a reflex. Was he shutting down?

“ No, nono no-!” In a moment, he was shoved off his feet, pulled into the air by a deep, dreadful, familiar tug that reached under his ribcage. His heart skipped a beat before he was slammed back down, the snow at his back and blurry red eyes staring into his face.

A glance downward to see the tusk had been driven right into his abdomen. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew it had pushed right through, up and out through his back. He’d been gored, his entire side having been hole-punched to accommodate this pillar of ice.

His hands went to the tusk, red spreading over it. To hold on? To push on it? To pull it out? He didn’t know. It was already stuck, the frozen surface melded to everything warm inside. Just like last time. Why couldn’t he feel it? This was worse than before. He couldn’t survive this. Had anyone else fallen victim to this? Was this why he couldn’t find anyone? Draugr was bellowing again. He was going to push further. Oh, oh– his whole side, his guts, everything inside was going to fall out—

Thrashing in the snow, Ingo gasped, choking on a shout as if he’d been suffocating. He fell back onto his side, grabbing at his open gash to hold everything in.

He couldn’t—

Wait.

Dim sunlight stretched across the fresh, soft snow to reach him. He squinted at the cold, early-morning sunrise peeking out at him from over the purple mountain line.

A group of Chimecho and their kin were gently jingling far off somewhere, and the distant burbling of the river went on amongst the peaceful quiet. The open doors to his perfectly-intact tent creaked gently as it swayed behind him from where he laid, crumpled in the snow at his doorstep. His coat and hat hung just at the edge of view through the doorway; he’d never put them on.

Gliscor was standing there before him in the snow, terrified and looking like he wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. How long had his companion been there? How much had he seen?

Chest heaving, Ingo frantically felt beneath his underlayer, now twisted and filled with snow, and grasped at his side. Frozen fingers rubbed against scarred skin, shakily following it up his back as far as he could reach. Only after pulling the shirt up to visually confirm it for himself was he finally reassured.

It wasn’t open. 

There was no blood staining his hands or saturating his clothes, nothing falling out that should be kept inside. 

The old injury felt rough, yes, and a painful sensitivity lingered from the prolonged exposure to cold air, but it was healed over. It had been for a long time. Just like it was supposed to be. 

He was fine.

It hadn’t been real. None of it had been real.

Ingo hung his head, heaving breaths stuttering out as he leaned forward in the snow. His heart was thundering beneath the hands that clutched at it. 

“G-Gliscor–”

“Gliiii,” Gliscor whimpered as he reached out and carefully wrapped his claws around his trainer’s neck, hugging tight. Ingo hugged back.

The gentle strip of sunlight dulled the frigidity as he took in the early-morning ambience, slowly processing that he was safe at his open front door. He was still in the settlement, just outside his tent, and Draugr was nowhere in sight. Pearl Clan members were approaching him, saying things he didn’t hear. Gliscor was still fretting against his shoulder. Hot adrenaline receded back to the familiar weariness as the cold air froze his sweat. He didn’t realize tears had sprung up in anticipation of the pain.

All these nights… he had never left his tent, let alone his bed.

His doors had never been opened.

Gliscor had never been out with him.

He had never woken up.

These were all nightmares. 

This whole time, he was experiencing horrible, vivid nightmares.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Auburn

A microfic written for Day 1 of Jily Week 2024, run by the very lovely @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee, and inspired by the theme Love is in the Hair - one of those iconic 'wow' moments!

647 words

Rated G

A flash of red catches James Potter’s eye for the very first time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James Potter was twelve years old the first time he really noticed Lily Evans’s hair. Obviously, he’d seen it plenty of times before, just like he’d seen Sirius’s hair or his Mum’s hair. The difference was that he hadn’t ever looked at it properly before. 

The day it happened, he and Sirius were in their usual seats in the Potions classroom, at the bench in the back right corner; the one that was least visible from Slughorn’s desk and therefore offered the most potential for messing about. 

Sluggie had finished his opening lecture on the topic of Swelling Solution - or at least that was what James assumed he’d been talking about, since that was what was written on the board, but he honestly hadn’t heard a word; he’d been too busy scribbling notes to Sirius. In fairness, Swelling Solutions did sound like they could be quite entertaining, and the idea of slipping some into the pumpkin juice at the Slytherin table convinced him that it might be worth actually putting a bit of effort in for once.  

He and Sirius played Spell, Shield, Serpent to decide who had to go and get their ingredients from the supply cupboard. Sirius lost, and made a rude gesture at James as he scraped his stool back along the stone floor. James smirked at him, then started to flick through his textbook looking for the right page, when a flash of red caught his attention; Evans, sitting next to that greasy loser Snape at the bench immediately in front of him, had flipped her hair back over her shoulders.

Her hair, he noticed, was remarkably thick and shiny, and James idly considered asking what Sleekeazy products she used. It was a very unusual colour, too. Auburn, he thought it was called; not an obnoxiously bright red, like the Prewett twins, but a darker, richer shade altogether. It seemed to change as she moved her head, the lamplight creating rose gold highlights and purple-plum shadows amidst the rich chestnut. 

As he watched, she picked up three sections from near the front, and began to weave them together, nimble fingers dancing a fascinating waltz down her head. She deftly pulled more and more strands into the pattern as she went, and the repetitive movement was oddly hypnotic. It left James entranced.

She’d just reached the nape of her neck when Sirius returned.

“How the hell is she doing that?” he muttered. 

“How is who doing what?” asked Sirius, dismissively.

“Evans.” He nodded towards her. “Doing that with her hair, behind her head, without a mirror or a charm or anything.”

“Oh. I dunno. Oi, Evans!” called Sirius. “James wants to know what you’re doing?”

Quite unexpectedly, James felt his skin heat with embarrassment at the thought that Evans might know he’d been looking at her. It was the strangest feeling, one that was completely unfamiliar. James decided that he didn’t like it, not at all. 

Lily shot them a disdainful look as she secured the tail of her hair with a band. “I’m plaiting my hair, obviously. You know, so it doesn’t get in the way while I’m brewing.” She looked pointedly at Sirius’s collar length locks. “Maybe I should teach you?”

Sirius looked horrified. “What? Like a girl? No way!”

Evans rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the ingredients on the bench in front of her. 

“Why are you so interested in Evan’s hair all of a sudden?” asked Sirius, curiously.

“I’m not,” huffed James.

And he wasn’t. He had far more important things to think about after all, like Quidditch trials, for instance, and how he and Sirius were going to sneak their Swelling Solution out of the classroom without Sluggie noticing. Resolute, he started measuring out dried nettles to add to his mortar. He wasn’t going to think about Evans’s hair ever again; he was sure of it.

[lilisgardensblog]

~Alluring Gaze~

Vyn Richter x Reader

"One kiss for one shell."

fem! reader, kissing, make out

A/N: I didn't actually read this card, but I'm in love with it so here's a fanfic based on it

You are walking by the sea shore, trying to calm your mind. You had an awfully busy schedule today and the stress was starting to get you. You had a headache all day, almost didn't turn in a very important file and even Mr. Wing asked you if you were okay. You said yes, but he sent you earlier home anyways.

Back at home you tried to do some work, but you simply couldn't concentrate. You were staring at your laptop screen for an hour, until you decided it's pointless. You got up and drove to the sea, the only place that could calm your mind in your current state.

Back in the present, you are walking by the sea shore gathering some pretty shells as the moonlight is guiding your every step. Busy collecting the shells for some handmade gift you wanted to make, you don't notice the pair of eyes that have been observing you for the past minutes. Or at least not until a tail hits the water near those golden eyes.

You stopped midway from picking up a shell, but quickly straightened your back as the eyes were moving closer toward you. You could now see blue ,ears like, fins peaking through the white locks of what you were sure of by now it's a merfolk. A very beautiful, alluring and curious merfolk.

Curious as well, you took a cautious, small step forward trying not to scare the merfolk and get yourself possibly drowned. The merman also swam closer and was now with its human half out of the water as the tail was still moving in the water.

You dropped to your knees so you two could be at the same height as you locked eyes with the mysterious merman. You were still unsure if he could understand you or not, but you decided to speak anyway just so you'll do something else then lose yourself in those golden eyes.

"Hi..." you said almost whispering, not daring to ruin the atmosphere.

He turned his head, looking at you with an amused yet impressed look. He almost looked proud of you for not running away and answered you back. "Hello"

Trying to keep the conversation going you ask the next question you could think of. "What is your name?" you asked and your curious gaze made the merfolk laugh. It was more of a low tone, amused giggle, but he answered you anyways.

"Where I come from they call me Vyn. What about you, pretty human?" His tone was unreadable, making you unsure why he took an interest in you. Maybe where he came from he lured all the mermaids and was uninterested in them so he decided to come above and find a naive human girl to play with.

"y/n" you answered and played with one of the shells near you as Vyn studied you, observing your every move, how you look around trying to gather your thoughts to form a question, but not sure what to ask first.

"Ask me." he spoke, getting closer to you, placing his hands on each side of your legs, trapping you with his body. You were now face to face with the merfolk that you thought would drown you and he was forcing you to put yourself together while he was towering over you, making your mind run wild. He figured you all out and knew you wanted to ask him something and was now patiently waiting for you to form the question. Gulping your distracting thoughts you asked.

"What are you doing here?"

He looked pleased with your question or maybe he was simply pleased that you finally managed to ask something and confirm that he was right and you had a question lingering at the tip of your tongue.

"I was simply swimming in my waters when I sensed a new presence in my territory and it appears the intruder had the audacity to even steal my belongings."

You were shocked. It appears that Vyn was accusing you of going into his territory when you walked on this sea shore millions of times. It's true that you didn't do your weekly walks in the past couple of months, but no one accused you of transpassing before. Or worse, of stealing.

"Excuse yourself, but first, it's not the first time I'm walking around here and second, I'm not stealing anything."

The corners of his lips raised and you realized you might have said something against yourself. An attorney that couldn't protect itself, the universe was laughing at you today and this was the cherry on top for all your misfortunes.

"So you admit you've been transpassing multiple times and deny that you're not taking with you the shells you've been collecting since you came here?" he was enjoying this. The look on your face, stunned and out of words, as he was simply stating the evidence from his point of view.

You reminded yourself you're an attorney and as shitty as this day went you still had to defend yourself. "There is no sort of warning that states this is a private territory and I'm sure these shells have no owner as they are spread by the sea in a public zone."

He laughed once again. "I think I might like you ,human.Fine I'll offer you my shells, but not for free. You have to agree with my conditions if you want them." Unsure of what he meant, you nodded, waiting for Vyn to specify the conditions.

"One kiss for one shell."

You could feel your cheeks getting warm as the distracting thoughts you pushed back moments ago were brought back with one sentence.

"You can pick the placement of each kiss, I won't force you to do anything against your will, darling."

You looked at your shells. They were 5 in total and you considered for a moment letting them there and going back home. You could gather shells in another day without a blue tailed merfolk accusing you or even better you could find another beach to pick up shells. But what if another beach had another merfolk?

"So that means just 5 kisses?"

"Indeed."

"Wherever I want?"

"Mhm."

"Well then...." you took a deep breath and placing both your hands on his face you kissed his left cheek then his right cheek. "That means 2 shells, right?"

He nodded and you leaned in once again and kissed his forehead. "3 shells..." you kept count. "2 more to go" Vyn seemed to try and encourage you but you realized you're running out of options.

You leaned in again, kissing the tip of his nose, making him pull back a second in disbelief. He looked like a little kitten who got an unexpected nose boop. "one more to go..." you whispered looking at the last place you could kiss him, admiring his lips. How they moved slightly in expectation, waiting for you to decide.

Leaning in one last time, you slowly kissed his lips. You were ready to announce that you finally earned all your shells, but Vyn caught your lips again and deepened the kiss. It wasn't anything forceful, letting you decide if you want to break the kiss or not.

You placed your arms behind his neck, pulling him closer, letting him know you wanted this as much as he wanted it. His hands travelled down the curve of your waist and back up caressing your round br3asts. You moaned in the kiss and moved your hand through his hair, giving it a slight pull making the merfolk moan into your arms.

His lips moved from your lips to your neck, exploring and leaving a small bruise with each kiss. You raised your head to allow him to mark every inch of your skin as your hands were moving through his hair and then moving to feel his chest, his heart pounding as quickly as yours.

He came back up to find your lips again, both of you lost in the moment. His warmth against yours, his hands on your body and your hands on his, everything felt perfect.

But the moment was interrupted by a passing car, both of you pulling away at the sudden sound. Vyn looked down at you, admiring his work. You were sure you looked like a mess and all he did was kiss you. You could feel your hair being messy and your neck was pulsating under the sudden love marks. But he wasn't any better. His wet hair was now messy thanks to your hands and was now slightly covering his eyes and his lips were covered in your lipstick, now a bit smudged from the previous actions. While both of you tried to catch your breath, Vyn let you stand again, giving you a hand to raise yourself from the sand. You were sitting crossed legged, trying to fix your hair as both of you were shocked by what happened.

You cleared your throat and broke the silence.

"I think I need to leave." Vyn nodded and handed you your shells not saying anything. "Thank you" you added, ready to leave. You turned one last time and gave the merfolk one last kiss before leaving for good, going back to your car.

vyn pov

'She left so soon, leaving me on the sea shore, watching her figure turn smaller and smaller as she went further away....I saw the hesitation in her eyes before kissing me. Maybe she thought I was just messing with the first human girl I've seen....I've never felt this. The way my heart skipped a beat, before beating miles per hour....Who is she really?'

The blue merfolk spoke in the wind as his finger tips touched his lips, where her lips were moments ago. Such an ironic situation. He finally found someone that made him want to live again and she was a human. A mere mortal that should bow before him and yet he was willing to worship her if he could have the chance to see her one more time.

(this was so fun to write live laugh love vyn)

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader    

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.    

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!    

Author’s note: so, i wrote half of this severely sleep-deprived and half of this whilst feeling unwell, so... i don't know man, i hope that i tied it all together somewhat coherent for you all and that you enjoy! comments, likes, messages, reblogs etc. all highly appreciated, thanks!

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The door fell into its lock behind you and the eye-contact was not something you wanted to be the first to break.

Nothing happened for a second. You just stood close in your silent hotel room and looked at each other. You tried to focus on breathing at a normal pace which seemed, no, was an impossible task.

Had you ever really noticed what Joe’s eyes looked like? 

You had.

But like this? 

Yea, you had, actually.

Hey, fuck you, don’t judge. See them up close first before calling someone crazy.

You had noticed his eyes. You’d noticed lots of things about him, but his eyes? There was something about his fucking eyes and he was looking back at you now, his moving between yours, and oh my God, how long were you just going to stare directly into each other’s eyes like this?

It was nearing uncomfortable when suddenly you saw his eyes shoot down, past your lips, down your body, and then back up.

“Do you…” Joe started, voice low and soft, but he didn’t finish the sentence. You tried guessing what it could have been, what he was about to ask, but you couldn’t think straight.

Not with Joe so close and the energy all thick and crackly.

Were you even breathing at all at this point?

Seconds passed, but it felt like minutes did when you suddenly felt how your whole body swayed forward. Nearly into him. So very nearly.

You swallowed, and then so did Joe, and why the fuck was no one doing anything?

His eyes moved again, but past you now. Over your shoulder. And then he reached. Leant closer to you as he reached an arm behind and opened the door to the bathroom. It made you step back a little, which was just right, because that was where Joe wanted you. The faint excuse of sand everywhere, of barely sunburnt pulling skin, of salty seawater that left your legs somewhat sticky, all enough to pull you into the bathroom for a shower.

No words were shared at all when you stepped inside. You watched as Joe turned the shower on, knew how it worked because his hotel room had the exact same one, and when Joe started undressing, you followed without question.

It wasn’t weird.

You tried to think of reasons of why it wasn’t weird, but you couldn’t come up with anything quick enough.

You decided that maybe you were just weird and the situation was maybe sort of the same amount of weird for everything to feel normal.

Well. Semi-normal, at least.

It was fine.

You were undressing in your bathroom and this time Joe was in the room with you instead of just outside, sat on a chair, listening carefully to make sure you didn’t collapse.

Steam started filling up the room when you stepped out of your bikini bottoms and for a second you forgot that this was likely not going to be an actual shower shower, but more just a sexy excuse to touch each other all over.

Just like you’d done the day before when Joe had been sat on a chair outside the bathroom door, you collected your bikini to rinse out in the shower.

Resourceful type of shit. Like your mother had taught you.

This time however, it wasn’t just your two-piece that you picked up off the floor; you also found Joe’s swimming shorts.

You didn’t realise that maybe this was a little strange when you stepped into the hot stream with all of it in hand and heard Joe huff in silent laughter.

“It’s just, I always, you know... to get them clean,” you said, holding all of it under the water, focussing on getting every inch of every item wet. It was nice to have a job to direct your focus, something to keep your hands and eyes busy and not, you know, with the naked man who was stood right behind you.

Your shoulders were the first thing two cold, only cold because the water was hot, large hands touched of you.

For a second you thought he was going to stop you like he would stop you from biting at your fingernails, but instead, his hands trailed up a bit until they touched your neck and then went down your back a little to the spots where he’d paid close attention to sore muscles the day before.

Pressing both thumbs into the flesh there worked like a reset button, it was almost embarrassing how fast your body folded.

Your head fell forward, and your arms dropped down. You went as lax as you could standing up still, and it got another soft chuckle from Joe.

Next thing you knew, the swimming garments were taken from your hands and hung over the glass shower screen before hands found your shoulders again. Before strong fingers pushed and kneaded the sore spots that needed it so.

Hot water.

Naked skin.

Hands doing exactly what you wanted them to.

Shit.

Yea, you'd been after intimacy, but you kind of expected that whatever you'd been after wouldn’t made you... oh, you know, feel things.

Just taking deep breaths wasn't enough to push down whatever was trying to make its way out of you.

It was confusing and silly - you wouldn't even let yourself come close to this on your own, by yourself, but now, here, completely in the nude with another person in the shower with you, this was the right time for emotions to let themselves be known?

No.

Not on your watch.

You scrunched up your forehead as much as it was willing to wrinkle from all sides, eyebrows doing the most, because if you didn’t, your lip would wobble, mouth showing all the emotions that resided on the inside. You didn’t even think they were real emotions to begin with - you were just tired. But a big pout and a quivering chin were things you couldn’t control, were things that would just do whatever by themselves and there was no stopping them. 

Couldn’t have that, could you?

So you redirected it to the top-half of your face. Sure, it made tears spill faster, but somehow that felt fine. There was water there already anyway, the shower a perfect coverup for them. You’d rather it be this. This was prettier and felt controlled, easier to hide.

It wasn’t, though.

It took no time for you to be fucking shaking all over.

Trying to control the shaking only made it worse. And it got worse fast. Especially when you turned and you saw how Joe reacted to what he saw. Copied it. Knitted his eyebrows together like yours were and created a whole crumply mess on his face and, had you mentioned his eyes already?

You had.

Fucking stunning. Absolutely beautiful.

They weren’t helping.

This was meant to be a sexy shower for fuck’s sake.

If you could just. 

Relax.

Have a drink.

Ignore whatever stirred inside.

That’d be perfect.

You took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils that you let out through your mouth and, there you went. It worked a little. Forehead stayed scrunched, just in case, but you felt yourself relax a little. Felt heavy shit ebb away a little.

“This is why, you know that, right?” 

The hurt turned into confusion. Was only a minor change.

“If you’re going to keep pushing it down, it’ll affect you physically,” 

You snorted. Hid the way you knew he was right with a laugh. Tried to turn it into jokes.

“Okay, doctor,” 

But Joe didn’t laugh. Just swiped your hair from the front of your shoulders to your back before using large palms to push it back from your face too.

“What’s plaguing you?” He spoke so softly, you barely heard it over the clatter of shower water that hit the tiles in streams from both your elbows. 

“I’m fine, it’s just… it’s just work,” 

Joe didn’t respond to your answer at all. Just kept wiping hands near your hairline, in turn smoothing out all the lines of worry you’d etched in there. It made you grab onto his wrists to stop him. 

He did stop, but didn’t move, and then you just stood like that a second with your forehead all smooth and you had to close your eyes because the shower water was running directly into them.

The fact that joe was staring down into your soul went ignored because it was just easier if you didn’t think about being so seen.

“I don’t…” you started, stupid lip wobbling once more because Joe’s hands prevented you from redirecting everything, “I don’t want to cry.” 

“If you’ve got to cry, you’ve got to cry.” 

“I’m just, I’m tired and that fucks with everything, doesn’t it?” 

You kept thinking there was going to be a moment where Joe would laugh. Chuckle or softly snicker or even exhale a little louder than usual, but he never did.

Just stayed silent.

Watched what your face did and rubbed a thumb across where he saw you try to frown.

“What if I don’t stop?” 

“Crying?”

“You didn’t come up here to have me cry in the shower for ages,” you laughed at yourself and then groaned loudly, all frustrated. “God, you must think I’m so fucking weird,”

Joe reached and had a squint at the tiny cursive letters of whatever small tube he picked up.

Shampoo.

Nice.

He flicked it open with his thumb and said, “Well, in my defence,” which made you laugh. “I never thought that the girl I met wearing my clothes wasn’t at least a little strange,”

He was right. You hadn’t once tried to sell to Joe that you were normal. Which was actually sort of perfect. Made you feel less bad about your laughter turning into a weird choked sob when Joe got started on washing your hair.

Made you feel less bad when you apologised, and Joe held your whole head, wide hands splayed fingers from your jaw back to the base of your skull, and forced eye-contact when he said to stop apologising already.

Made you feel less bad when you, through teary laughter, commented on the lack of sex appeal you'd dragged into the shower, that hadn’t been the intention at all, and Joe just said, “We got time.”

Made you feel less bad when, after Joe turned the shower off, all you wanted to do was curl into the white fluffy dressing gown and flop down onto the bed, ready to pass out.

Because you hadn’t lied. You were tired.

Joe let you nap there after watching you run your hands over the covers, murmuring something about clean sheet day before you drifted off.

And, listen.

Yea, Joe hadn’t expected for any of this week to go the way it had gone so far. He’d intended for the trip to be a little break from work, to simply get his mind off of everything going on at home by sleeping in, and by reading books, and by swimming slow laps in the hotel pool for however long he wanted.

Well.

He’d barely even touched the book he’d brought, hadn’t swam a single lap in the hotel pool but! But! Had this... had all of this not taken his mind off of everything?

It had.

Joe hadn’t thought of work, of his schedule, of auditions and of lines he had to learn - he hadn’t thought of any of that once.

And he got to help someone.

Well, not just someone.

You.

He got to make you laugh, got to make you eat, got to make you relax. Got to hold you as you slept. Got to touch you in the shower. Not... not in all the ways he’d wanted to. Yet. But he’d been forward about it. Said there was time still. Which, there was. He’d only met you three days ago, which, was that right? Joe had to count using his fingers to check, because didn’t that feel like weeks ago already?

And sure, you kept saying sorry for being a burden, kept telling him he was free to go whenever, you didn’t want to ruin his trip, you know?

But how was he going to tell you that, actually, this was exactly right for him right now? Have his focus be on someone else entirely instead of on himself for a second?

And the answers were so easy too, weren’t they? All basic shit.

You woke up about an hour later with your feet in Joe's lap, left foot in his hands, slowly kneading as he watched TV.

You looked up, stirred a little, felt a little dazed. Took you a second to realise where you were. Who was there with you. Who was holding your foot.

“Hey,” Joe smiled lazily at you, and for a second, he thought maybe this was too much. Maybe he’d overstepped. You’d fallen asleep in your bed, naked body wrapped up in fluffy white, and Joe’d just sat down next to you. Turned on the TV, volume all the way down, like he was in his own hotel room, and when you started twisting and turning a little, he’d taken hold of your feet. Hoped that his grip would ground you in some way.

He thought it had done, because for the rest of your nap you’d barely moved at all.

For about ten minutes, your feet had just laid there. On his lap. You had nice feet, Joe thought, you know, as far as feet went. Nice legs too. Bruised a bunch, sure. Scraped from where you’d fallen, kind of similar to your face, but nice none the less. Eyes traveled up more, and that’s when Joe saw.

He tried not to see. Actively tried his bestest best not to look.

You’d cried over things you didn’t know how to explain and maybe... maybe Joe should’ve left after. Or, at least, maybe Joe shouldn’t have sat down and dragged your feet onto his lap because now, one wrong move and you'd flash your full vagina for the whole room to see.

Joe could already sort of see it now anyway, but he was actively not looking and massaged a foot to keep himself busy.

Don't look, man.

Stop.

Stop looking.

It took you ages to slowly stir awake again. And what a way to wake up. What a view to wake up to.

Joe was sat against the headboard, just in his T-shirt and the remnants of a towel that had been tied around his waist before he’d sat down.

Slow and sleepy, you sat up, and it made Joe try to protect your modesty by going, “Oh, your… the dressing gown– you, it’s ridden up, it’s–”

It was of no use, because you paid your dressing gown no mind, no matter how much of you got exposed. It was time for bits being exposed, you thought.

You moved from sitting up onto your knees, feet sliding from Joe’s lap as you did, your hair all sleep-messy and eyes barely open.

“What are you…?” Joe asked softly, but didn’t finish his question because he knew exactly what you were doing as you inched closer, hands finding his shoulders to hold as your knees dented the mattress either side of him. You lowered yourself onto his lap, your warmth sinking into his, and you grinned. Hummed in satisfaction. There was plenty of fabric in between the two of you – the sheets, Joe’s towel, your dressing gown – but it was all easily removed, one simple swipe away from connecting skin to skin.

“Hi,” Joe softly whispered as you leant closer, and he seemed unsure on if he should sit up a little or not, his hands unsure of if he should touch you a little or not.

Was sort of endearing.

Man had taken a whole shower with you and now didn't know if it was all right to touch you.

So, you helped. Took hold of his hands and guided them to your waist, more towards your back, and when you leant down enough for Joe to tip his chin up and kiss you, his arms did exactly what you wanted them to do as they tightly wrapped around.

Yes.

Exactly.

This was exactly right.

You’d cried, you’d slept, you’d gotten your hair washed and you’d gotten your feet rubbed and now, you wanted to kiss the boy.

And kiss the boy you did.

Well. You kissed him for maybe three seconds. After that, the boy was kissing you.

The dressing gown was tied loosely enough for it to come undone when Joe grabbed two fistfuls of fabric at your back and had Joe not looked at your flesh for long enough now?

The feel of the bare skin of your chest was enough to quickly lose his T-shirt.

The feel of his mouth on your neck was enough to fight your way out of the dressing gown entirely.

You’d never had sex quite like it.

Quite so slow. Quite so loving and so tender, and you know you couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, but maybe Joe had to stop making so much eye-contact if he didn't want you thinking of them all the time, you know?

And Joe was just helping, wasn’t he?

Get your mind empty.

Undo you of stresses that had no right squatting in your muscles like that.

Make you feel good, the way he knew how.

Just helping.

And it did help.

Joe helped when he had almost agonisingly slow sex with you in your hotel room.

Joe helped when after, he suggested going down to his hotel room to enjoy room service in his bed, because hadn’t you said something about clean sheet day earlier?

Joe helped when he let you choose his outfit for the next day and laughed at how you kept scrunching your nose at the selection of clothing items he'd brought. Honestly, what the fuck had he been thinking?

Helped when he just smiled and shrugged and wore whatever you’d laid out for him.

Helped when he told the host downstairs at the restaurant that your seperate reservations for one were to be merged into reservations for two because you’d be having the rest of your meals together now.

Helped when he made sure you had water after having a fruity cocktail by the pool which he made you sip before helping you into the freezing water that hurt your bones, it was so cold.

Helped when he just let you hang onto him in there, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, as he waded through the water for a bit, sun on his back and bright on your face.

Helped when he searched for your wrist again in the night and felt for your pulse, and you'd gone, “You know I’m not— you don’t need to,” and Joe’d quietly replied, “No I know,” before adding, “Is just nice.”. 

Helped when he let you wear one of his jackets once more when you went for drinks up at the rooftop on your last night there and wouldn’t stop commenting on how good it looked on you on the back-end of soft sighs.

You knew just this one week away wouldn’t fix all the things wrong in your life. Knew they’d just be waiting for you when you’d get back home. But, man, spending half this trip with Joe had made you temporarily forget about a lot of the bullshit, and wasn’t that why your boss had sent you away in the first place?

Joe had helped.

The skin around your fingers had started healing enough for it to no longer look like you dipped the tips of them into acid on the reg.

Joe had helped you beyond belief.

And so when the day arrived on which you both would be going back home, an unsaid solemnity hung in the air that the both of you tried your very best to ignore.

It was okay.

You were taking the same flight home, so your time together wasn’t over when you checked out of the hotel. And you’d exchanged numbers, said you’d both be busy the second you'd set foot back in London, but you’d keep in touch. It was a casual agreement of which you knew that potentially, it’d never actually happen.

Just a polite nicety, because what kind of rude person wouldn’t say something like that after the week the two of you had had?

But you weren’t dense.

When you arrived at the airport, you had a weird sort of more heartfelt goodbye moment in the back of your shared taxi. Where there were no other people to ogle and you didn’t feel so weird because, you really weren’t anything together, the two of you, and saying goodbye at airports was an activity strictly set aside for couples, wasn’t it?

Before you moved to get out of the backseat, Joe’d knocked your knee with his to get your attention. The look in his eyes had made you use both arms in a hug that grew tighter and lasted longer than you expected it would have. Then just a peck to your cheek, followed by a quick one to your mouth and a smile.

You didn’t sit remotely close to each other on the plane, couldn’t even see each other from where you were both sat. You kind of handled it like a big girl and told yourself this was just the transition back into the real world where you didn’t know each other at all.

Your week together could just be that. Your week together. Full stop.

It took you the whole flight back to convince yourself you were okay with that.

Joe could just exist as the bits of arm and leg in the corners of pictures of cocktails and nice meals in your camera roll.

That was it.

The week was over and done and Joe was part of your past now.

Except he fucking wasn’t, was he?

You’d forgotten there was a whole airport you needed to get out of before you'd actually part ways, and you only realised that Joe would still be in your vicinity when you looked up from your phone at the baggage claim carousel and looked him right in the eye. He was stood on the other side, the very end of the round all the checked luggage made before it’d disappear and loop back again.

You couldn’t help a smile. This is where you fucked up a week ago. At the baggage claim. You’d grabbed Joe’s suitcase and he’d grabbed yours and now, here you were. Second try. Were going to get it right this time.

Joe returned your smile and it was cute. He grew bashful and looked at his feet before biting into his lip and turning himself back into waiting-man-by-baggage-carousel, face serious and a little tired from the flight. He looked just like the business man you thought he was before you’d even met him. All stern, all posh, looking out for his suitcase, just like you were looking out for yours.

It took a second for you to spot your suitcase.

When you did, your body immediately jolted into action, but a loud clearing of someone's throat stopped you.

Joe.

You looked over and saw him look directly at you, eyebrows raised slightly, slowly shaking his head no.

Confusion.

What?

But... you listened.

Let your own suitcase pass you by, and you saw something change in Joe's expression. Something a little victorious. Something a little too glad, which he tried to hide, about you not just taking what was yours and leaving the area with it.

You watched as your suitcase looped around and... no fucking way. He wouldn't. He fucking wouldn't.

Except he would.

And then, he did.

Joe took your suitcase from the rubber belt and put it down beside him. Gave you a shit eating grin when he extended the telescopic handle with loud clicks and then just... walked off with it.

Was that his? Had you just made the same dumb mistake and had you nearly reached for Joe’s suitcase again?

You looked, saw the other suitcase come your way and were quick to take it. Checked it.

No.

This one wasn’t yours. This was Joe’s.

That little shit.

Your week together wasn’t just going to be your week together, and Joe had to make sure of it. He went about it a little drastically, sure, but in his defence, when he’d thought up the idea of taking your suitcase home instead of his own, part of the plan wasn’t that you’d actually see him do it.

You were meant to just find Joe’s suitcase and not see that it wasn’t yours until you’d get home.

Maybe this was better though.

Maybe this said, “You’re mine.” more.

Maybe this said, “You were mine the moment I saw you dressed in my clothes.” more.

Something possessive and greedy about all of it, but Joe didn’t care.

He was just helping.

And he truly had helped you!

Helped in all the ways he knew how.

Just now was the time for Joe to help himself. And so he did. Joe helped himself when he signaled for you to leave your suitcase be. Helped himself when he smirked across the carousel and turned on his heel, your suitcase rolling behind him. Helped himself when he got into a taxi and waited until it got onto the road before he texted,

“Your suitcase”

Referring back to the first words you'd said to him on that weird day at the airport.

You received the message just as you stepped out of the airport yourself and couldn’t help the way you wanted to squeeze Joe’s face in both your hands, really dig your non-existent finger nails into his cheeks because he was being such an idiot. You didn't know if you wanted to scold him or tell him you loved him for the cheesiest fucking thing you'd ever see someone do.

You knew the perfect reply though.

Joe eagerly awaited your message, was hoping he was going to get what he wanted and, yes, fuck fucking yes, his grin stretched from ear to ear when he did.

“Your jacket” the end

---

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