#i will keep yall updated as bits arrive

[friendstolobsters]

ordered a bunch on bits to make my own gerry doll

[apricityxoxo]

Sound of Your Voice

✧.*Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

✧.* wc about 3k

✧.* summary: Routine. Continuously. Everyday. Every day since that day. He is used to a routine, that’s how he normally lives. His routine was tedious and had recently started to feel mundane. Like a never-ending cycle of constant repetition, a cycle of violent missions and loneliness. That was most certainly not the case now. Now he has you, and he is addicted.

✧.* content: mainly fluff, a bit of violence (simon gets in a fight duhh) and a bit of suggestive dialogue

✧.*This is part two to Help and Care, Here is "part one", it can be read together or separately.

I'm so sorry this took such a long time, I've been so busy and I haven't been in a writing mood. I'm gonna start updating more and writing about different characters. lmk who you want me to write for next. pleaseeee interact, i love hearing from yall.

Routine.

Continuously.

Everyday.

Every day since that day.

He is used to a routine, that’s how he normally lives. His routine was tedious and had recently started to feel mundane. Like a never-ending cycle of constant repetition, a cycle of violent missions and loneliness. 

That was most certainly not the case now. Now he has you, and he is addicted.

He makes his way over… starting to rush a little. 

He keeps checking his back, ensuring no one is following, checking to see if anyone's watching. 

Sometimes he feels paranoid, worried that rumors will spread. Reputations ruined, your reputation ruined. He has seen it happen before and doesn't want it to happen to you.

He finally arrives at the building, making his way past the receptionist's desk. He doesn't have to look, he knows that the receptionist is shaking her head. He knows this path like the back of his hand. When he finally arrives at the door, a weight is lifted off his shoulders. 

It’s like the feeling of pure relief. 

He checks his surroundings while turning the handle and with his free hand, he begins to pull up his mask. He pulls up his mask with a large smile on his face, mentally preparing himself for the intense makeout session that was about to start. However, before the session was about to begin he realized something strange.

Your office was empty. This was the exact time he came to visit your office every other day, so why was today different? Where were you? He started pacing, trying to think where you could be. Where? Where are you? What are you doing? Why aren't you here? 

He's freaking the hell out.

Where are y–

“She's not here son.”

He pulls down his mask and quickly faces the voice. He turns and sees a tall but thin older woman in the hallway. She looks away from her clipboard and looks up at him with her thin almond-shaped eyes over her slim reading glasses. When he still doesn't address her she rolls her eyes and looks back at her clipboard. 

“She should be back next week, it won't kill you to be away from her for a week…right?” She says with a sarcastic smirk on her thin lips. 

So, word had gotten around.��

She walked away while shaking her head.

He had to wait a week, he could do that. 

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He could not do this. 

He's going crazy, it has been six days and he thinks he's going to kill himself. It's been a horrible week for him and many are starting to notice. God, he’s gotten addicted to you.

He's been snappy, and everything is starting to set him off. He doesn't think he's ever been madder in his life. He's like a ticking time bomb that is constantly being set off…

And these recruits were going to make him explode.

They had the same attitude they always had, but he couldn't tolerate their actions with you not here. He was harder on them than usual and irritated by everything they did wrong. He didn't have time for their cockiness, their back talk, and their disagreeable attitudes. However, that's all he received, and he had had enough.

“Harder, you have to hit me harder. Unless you want to die out there.” Ghost said with an angry stern tone. He was training a young recruit, they were on the training grounds surrounded by other recruits and onlookers. The recruit he was training had extremely short-buzzed black hair, was well-built, and had impressive combat skills. His name was Thomas… he thinks. He has a lot of potential, he could make it far if he wasn’t a cocky asshole. Thomas's hits were impressive but not up to his standards. He needed to try harder and be better. 

“If ya not going to try hard, I can train someone else,” Ghost said, sick and tired of this recruit's lazy antics. He could tell his corrections had been irritating Thomas. He was rolling his eyes, shaking his head at Ghost.

“Come on!” Ghost yelled. He watched as the concentration in his eyes turned into pure anger. Ghost thought that anger would encourage him to fight harder, but all it did was make his mouth move more.

“Don't be mad at me because you haven't seen your bitch in a week.”

Ghost doesn't think he’s ever punched someone in a while as hard as he punched Thomas. What was a sparring session between mature respected soldiers, quickly turned into what looked like a nasty bar fight between infantile men who couldn't control their temper. Punches were thrown back and forth and soon they both ended up on the ground. A crowd of men formed a circle around them, cheering them on and guessing who they think will win.

“Get the ‘ell off me!” Thomas yelled, trying his hardest to get from below Ghost.

Ghost didn't say anything, he was more focused on teaching Thomas to watch his mouth. He knows this isn't good for his reputation. He knows that this proves all the rumors about him and you true. He thinks about how he shouldn't do this, after throwing a punch to his face, but he doesn't care.

He was ready to throw another hard blow to the right side of Thomas’s head before he heard a bellowing voice. 

“What’s goin' on here?!” Ghost stops and Thomas quickly crawls from under him, ready to salute his captain. 

Ghost stays on the ground looking at the floor. 

“That's enough training for today. You're all dismissed.” Says Captain Price, followed by the sound of soldiers dispersing. Then he feels a firm hand on his soldiers.

“You're dismissed too Ghost. Go take a nap or something, your piss-poor mood is showing.” Price says the smell of expensive cigars follows him as he walks away. 

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“Piss-poor mood, I'm not in a mood…”

“...he should’ve watched his mouth”

Ghost continued to murmur to himself as he made his way over to his quarters. Upset by the eyes that followed him. He didn't feel upset, he felt fine. He's not the problem, everyone else is for upsetting him. 

He makes his way down a hallway and near his quarters but before he can get within a couple feet of his door, he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and his eyes widen in utter shock and surprise. 

“So, I'm gone for not even a week and you're already beating up little kids?” You say. You look beautiful, your hair is done differently than normal. Your skin looked kissed by the sun and glowed under the artificial lights in the hallway, God he missed you. He missed the sound of your voice.

“It's not my fault, he should've watched his mouth.” You could practically hear the smile forming on his lips as he spoke to you. He was slowly closing the professional and appropriate gap between you.  

“Did ya miss me?” You ask in a soft sultry voice, as you look up at his tall frame through your eyelashes.

He didn't respond but by your face, he could tell you already knew the answer.

“What did you do while I was gone?” you said and as you spoke you started to walk away, and like a loyal dog, he started to follow.

“I found ways to busy myself” he lied. In reality, he did his work and was pissed while he did so. Everything that happened while he worked ticked him off. He didn't like that the recruits talked back when he gave them corrections. He didn't like how cafeteria food tasted when you weren't there to distract him. He especially didn't like how he couldn't visit you in your office on long days.

When he wasn’t working, he was at the pub drinking his sorrows away with Johnny and drinking and drinking even more so that he could forget that you're not around. You're not around, and he can't listen to you ramble about your unique interests like your troublesome cat, the most recent book you read, or the hairstyle you were planning on getting next. He really missed that. 

When he wasn’t working or drinking he found other ways to distract himself.

Other ways that made him feel ashamed. 

Other ways that made him sleepless at night, and drowsy in the morning. 

You made him crazy. You drove him absolutely mad. He couldn’t think straight around you, and it confused him. 

He’s had girlfriends, and hookups, even one-night stands. None of them compared to the way you made him feel. You made him feel lightheaded, you made his heart race, and you made him throb at just the thought of you. 

He wanted more.

He was tired of the flirty banter, the soft touches, and the heated makeout sessions in the privacy of your office. 

He wanted to get to know you, the way no one else has gotten to know you. 

Out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you want to have dinner with me?”

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God! Men! 

How dare Simon give you less than an hour and a half to get ready! 

You’re so nervous, you’re literally trembling. You haven’t felt this way about a man, ever. You feel ridiculous! 

All your life you pushed away the attention of men, in order to succeed in your career. You were always taught that men would stop you from succeeding, they would only drag you down. 

However now, you don’t give a shit. You don’t care if Simon drags you down to hell, you’ll skip right along with him. He makes you feel high like you’re weightless and on top of the world. 

He so entrances you that you think if he asked you to run away and sell crops in the middle of nowhere, you’d say yes. You’re crazy and delusional, and you don’t care. 

You invited a friend over to help you style your hair, wanting to do a natural look for your first date with Simon. As she styles the curls and coils of your hair, she can’t help but make fun of you. 

“I can’t believe ‘Ms. I don’t need a man is going on a date!” She cackles, and goes on saying “And she’s nervous!” She all but hollers. 

Even though you don't appreciate the hollers and cackles from her, you can’t help but giggle along with her. You were a hypocrite.

…

Okay, even with the time given… you look good. Like, really good. You always look good, but damn. Right now, you look fine. 

You managed to search for a dress that was elegant and sexy at the same time. A black dress that hugged your curves beautifully, with a high slit that showed your glowing legs. You paired it with jewelry, a black bag, and black heels. Your makeup was finally finished and as you started to set your face you heard a knock at the door of your apartment. 

You felt your heart sink and doubt started to creep into your mind. However, before you have time to second-guess yourself, your friend sprints down the stairs to let Simon in. 

You rush to grab your purse and your phone, hyping yourself up as you scramble around your room. “You can do this, you got this” “he’s already into you, there’s no need to worry” “You’re a bad bitch, the baddest”. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time and head downstairs. 

As you make your way downstairs you find Simon and your friend talking. Simon is wearing the face of a child who has been punished by his parents and your friend has her back to you. 

“What's going on?” You ask, confused. “Nothing!” Your friend said with a bright and mischievous smile on her face. You roll your eyes, knowing that she's probably giving him the best friend speech. 

“Love you, have fun!” She says as she walks past you and gives you a friendly kiss on your cheek. 

When Simon finally looks at you, you can see his face physically soften. He looks nice, you lied cause he looks so handsome. He's wearing straight black dress pants, and a short-sleeve white button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone. He looks classy and slutty at the same time. It's making you warm up inside, especially with the way he's looking at you.

His hair is styled differently, instead of the messy blonde tussles of hair that usually adorn his, it looks like he attempted to style his hair. His beard also looks trimmed and cleaned up, not fully shaven though. He holds himself more confident than normal but his face has nervousness written all over it. 

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God, you look good, so good. You look good in your scrubs and tennis shoes but right now you look amazing. You look beautiful, you look so beautiful that words can’t describe how he feels right now. It was absolutely worth getting the "You better treat her right" speech from your friend.

He was nervous about planning this date, he wanted it to be perfect. He tried his best to find the best restaurant near your apartment knowing that you’re, what you call, a foodie. He searched all day for somewhere worth taking you to. When picking out his outfit he had to go off base to find a new shirt.

He cleaned up his beard and even thought about shaving it completely, but he decided against it last minute thinking about all the times you've played with it. He also styled his hair but it looks messy now due to all the times he nervously ran his hands through it. 

He needed this date to be perfect. It had to be. It had to be as perfect as you.

“I brought these for ya,” He said, as he grabbed the flowers off the coffee table with sweaty hands. He gave you a beautiful bouquet. A bouquet of vibrant lilies that went together perfectly with beautiful white flowers.

“Aww! They’re beautiful, how’d you know these were my favorite?”

“I’m psychic,” he said with a wink. He saw a picture of a similar bouquet while you were scrolling and liking posts on your Instagram. You smile to yourself and look down.

“You look good, Simon,” you say to him, so soft it almost sounds like a whisper. He loves the sound of your voice. He loved how it made him feel and he couldn't get enough of it.

After you complimented him, he took a couple of steps toward you until your chests were pressed together. He looks down at you and holds your face with his hands. “You look beautiful”. He leans down and gives you a soft and gentle kiss on your thick glossed lips. You feel dazed after that kiss and he asks “Ya ready?”, with a cocky smile. He was perfect.

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Dinner was less than perfect…

The hostess was rude, giving you nasty looks. During dinner, Simon called the waiter a clumsy, forgetful, flirt. The waiter was so busy trying to get your attention that he ended up spilling your drinks on you and giving you the wrong food. Finally, when you do get the right food it was “bland shite” as Simon described it, cursing the people who gave this restaurant anything above a two-star review.

As he paid the check, refusing to let you even reach for your purse, he pettily left a no tip and a short message. You giggle your way out, laughing at his pettiness. As you make your way out, he's profusely apologizing as you wrap your arms around his thick bicep while trying to clean the huge stain on your dress.

“I'm sorry love, thought the restaurant was good and it was gonna go different and-” You're not even focused on him nor your dress anymore. Your eyes drift away to the colorful ice cream stand and your mouth all but waters.

“Do you want ice cream Si?” You interrupt him with a bright smile on your face. You let go of his arm and make your way over to a cute ice cream stand. 

You bend over with a slight arch to your back and look at all the ice cream flavors. You feel a presence make its way over to you and feel a hand go from your upper ass to your hip. “What do ya want Si? My treat!” you look up at him “Nah, you don’ need to get me anything, love, I'll pay”. You continue, ignoring him, “You seem like a cookies and cream kind of guy, or maybe French vanilla, ooh cookie dough?” there was a silence for a couple of seconds, then a deep sigh “Mint Chocolate-chip” 

You look at him and giggle, you knew he’d like something weird. “You got it, Si!”

You order and pay for the ice cream after going for a walk as you both enjoy the sweet treat. You find a bustling Main Street near the ice cream stand that’s illuminated with street lamps, fairy lights, and boutiques. You both walk down the street hand in hand while eating your treats. You walk and window shop and point out things you find cute to Simon. Then, a surge of happiness fills you. You haven't felt like this in years, Simon makes you feel alive, in a way you have never felt before. You finally finish your ice cream and feel the need to tell him how happy you feel. You both drift away from the crowd and make your way to a bench illuminated by a warm street lamp, that's where you finally stop and look up at Simon.

“I having a wonderful time Simon, thank you.” You tell him and you squeeze his hand as you do.

“I'm real glad ya are. I was nervous ‘bout this and I feel like I screwed up with dinner and the waiter was a flirty arsehole and I just wanted this to be perfect with the-” 

“I have a wonderful time, every time I'm with you. It's always perfect with you.” You interrupt his nervous ramble with your own. “I haven't really done any of this before and I feel kind of dumb but I like the way I feel when I am with you.” Then you start getting honest, real honest, “After I graduated med-school, I couldn't find a job and I was looking everywhere and no one was hiring me, it was so frustrating”. You continue, “So when I found that job at the military base, I impulsively took it. And when I did, I immediately regretted it, it was far from home, my friends and family, and a new environment, but now, I have great friends, an apartment that feels more like a home every day, a crazy cat, and more” You pause, and grab his hands. “I think it's one of the best decisions I've ever made” 

Simon then rips his hands from yours and grabs your face pulling you impossibly close to him. Giving you the greediest kiss you have ever felt. 

His lips intertwine with your own and you wrap your hands around the back of his head.

The most passionate kiss you have ever felt. He pauses the kiss and you go up to reach his lips once again but before you can he interrupts you by speaking.

“I'm so glad I went to the infirmary,” he says then he pulls you back in.

You know that from this moment on everything is going to be okay.

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I hope you all enjoyed pls let me know who you want me to write for next

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[readyforthegarden]

When the Nightingale Sings - Part Eight

Pairing: Danny Wagner x F!Reader

Synopsis:Medieval AU! In a world where noble alliances dictate futures, you have been betrothed to Prince Emers, a man you barely know and certainly don’t love. As you travel towards the royal palace for your impending wedding, your journey is upended, causing you to run straight into a kind, lonesome hunter. With no choice but to trust him, you embark on a journey together towards the nearest village, navigating through the forest and it’s perils. As the solace you find in his companionship builds will you choose to honor your duty, or will you abandon everything you’ve ever know to follow your heart?

WC: 5742

Warnings: drinking, angst, cursing, smut (oral f!receiving unprotected sex (hey it's medieval times, they didn't have condoms but YOU do, so wrap it up folks))

A/N: hi everyone! thanks so much for your patience with this chapter, i just wanted to make sure this update is everything i can make it. also i just want to say we're suspending historical fact and there was modern slow dancing in medieval times okay this is MY world i'm building lmao. anywho i hope yall enjoy!!!

When you arrived at the tavern, it was bustling. Fiora and Jake were weaving in between tables filled with men drinking and loudly talking. Baskets of bread and mugs of ale were moving faster than you’d ever seen before. You ran towards the kitchens, following a flustered Fiora. 

“Is something happening?” without thinking you reached for the apron you used in the kitchens, tying it around your waist. You followed her pointing finger to the loaves of bread, piping hot from the oven, and began slicing them. 

“A hunting party is stopping through for the night!” Fiora called over her shoulder, stirring up the large pot of stew ladling out bowls of it. “It’s going to be a bit loud and busy, think you can keep up?”

“I can try!” you called back, feeling the buzz of excitement from her energy. Your fingers were stinging from the hot crust of the bread but you cut as fast and neatly as you could, loading the steaming slices into baskets. Once full, you followed Fiora, placing them on tables and taking the empty baskets back to the kitchen to refill.

Your afternoon was a flurry of serving tables, and you finally found a break, dipping behind the bar where Jake and Danny had been pouring ale in a near-constant stream.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you all day!” Danny grinned, glancing up at you. He paused, taking you in. “Did you get new clothes?”

“I went to Josh’s this morning to check on my gown.” you smiled. “He’d made these for me too,” before you could stop yourself, you spun to show him the full outfit. Danny smiled as you stopped, smoothing down your apron and dress. His hand raised, moving behind your head and to the ribbon Josh had pinned to the base of your braided crown. 

“This blue,” he glanced back at you, his fingers rubbing the ribbons material between them. “It’s my favorite.”

“It is?” your breath caught in your throat, heart fluttering at the information. 

“Yes,” he nodded. Stepping back, he let go of the ribbon, and took in the full outfit. “Josh is a talented man.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on your compliments.” you blushed. Danny swallowed down more praise, taking in the vision of you dressed in his favorite color, the pink blush heating your face complimenting it so well. Yes, Josh was indeed talented in his craft, and even more so in sending messages with his threads. The only thing more perfect could have been forget-me-nots to match and braided into your hair. The two of you just looked at each other for a few moments, stalled in an awkward pause. Both of you wanting to say more but knowing nothing could come of the words. Your name was called and you turned to Fiora, who was beckoning you over to help with the tables. 

“I should get back to helping Fiora,” you smiled up at Danny. He nodded and you stepped back, but stalled. “Do you think we could talk later? There’s something I wish to tell you.”

“Of course,” the words tumbled from Danny’s mouth before you finished your sentence. With one last smile, you turned, whisking off in a light blue streak to aid your friend.  

Danny’s heart couldn’t return to its calm pace from before, the mystery of what you wanted to tell him beginning to drive him up the wall. In his heart he knew it would be something small, but part of him fantasized you were going to confess that you felt for him how he felt for you, and that you wanted to run away back to his cottage with him. His mind swam with his cottage being a home teeming with life again, you and him, and maybe a few babes when the both of you were settled. His heart ached, the want of this future weighing heavily in his body. 

Through the rest of the day, his eyes found you, wherever you were in the sea of hunters. It was hard not to be drawn to you, a bright color amongst the sea of dark furs and light brown animal skins that adorned the men. And you were brighter yet as the sun set in the mid-afternoon and the candles in the tavern were lit, the large fire roaring in the fireplace.  

“Admiring my work, eh?” Josh was leaning against the bar where Danny continued to help pour libations. The older man had to shout over the din of the crowd, and the small troubadour band that had made its way inside. Danny blinked a few times before drawing his eyes away from you, giving Josh a long glance. “What?”

“You knew what you were doing,” Danny shook his head. “That color?”

“I happened to get inspired by the gown,” Josh shrugged. “It suits her very well, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t.” Josh narrowed his eyes at Danny, teeming with frustration.

“I have never seen two people more in love with one another and yet refusing to acknowledge it.” He sighed as Danny rolled his eyes. “Even Jake and Fiora didn’t fight it this hard.” 

“Jake and Fiora had a chance at a life together.” Danny shook his head. Josh’s mouth opened to respond when Sam approached, tossing an arm around him and grinning.

“I hear there’s a party and that the drinks are on the house for handsome men?” he winked at Fiora who was passing behind Danny.

“They are! Let me know when you see any handsome men, will you?” she smirked back as his jaw dropped, and he muttered under his breath something Josh glared at him for. 

“You knew that was coming,” Danny chuckled, pouring Sam a pint of ale and sliding it to him. Sam gladly took the drink in his hand and took a large gulp of it, turning and scoping out the room.

“I don’t think I’ve seen the tavern this busy in years,” Sam mused, watching Jake talking with a table of hunters while Fiora set tables and you cleared them. The din of laughter and rowdy conversations filled the building for a few more hours before the hunters began to grow tired, their voices becoming softer and the troubadours playing became the focus.  Danny was able to leave the bar, taking post at a table with Sam and Josh for a while, finally eating a meal of his own. He scarfed down the venison stew, tearing into the bread, not realizing how hungry he was.

“You’ve been flitting around this place all day, have you had a chance to sit?” Josh’s question piqued Danny’s interest. Josh’s hand was wrapped gently around your forearm, stopping you as you were passing by.

“If I sit down, I don’t think I’ll get back up,” you laughed, your voice tired. “And there’s still so much to do.”

“What about food? Have you eaten?” Sam gave you a look, one Danny furrowed his brow at. 

“I’ve had some bread.” you answered as the band changed to a more mellow, slower song. Sam raised his stein to his lips and took another swig of his ale before standing up.

“Well if you insist on staying on your feet, then would you come dance with me?” Sam held out his hand and you faltered, looking around the room. “Come on, that dress deserves to be danced in.” Danny glanced between the two of you, the bite of stew in his mouth becoming heavy and unappetizing as he waited for your response. After one more glance around the room, you untied your apron strings and took it off, placing the cloth on the table and taking Sam’s hand, letting him lead you to a small opening of space near the large fireplace. 

Danny watched as Sam led you in a dance, trying to ignore the burning jealousy he felt seeing Sam’s hand at your waist. Sniffing, Danny turned his head down to his bowl, shoving another spoonful of stew into his mouth. When he glanced back up, Jake had convinced Fiora to join you and Sam on the dancefloor, both of them swaying alongside you.

“Instead of looking positively green with envy, perhaps you should go cut in.” Josh was staring at Danny, unimpressed with the bitterness on the young man's face. Danny’s glare turned to Josh, who let it roll off his back. “You can glare at me all you wish, but it doesn’t make Sam stop dancing with her.”

“I will go and do it so you leave me alone,” Danny let his spoon drop into the bowl and got up from his seat, rolling his shoulders back and stomping towards the makeshift dance floor. His steps got lighter as he approached you and Sam, hearing your gentle laugh that eased his annoyance. “Do you mind if I cut in?” 

“Not at all,” your smile was all he could focus on as Sam turned you towards him gently, and stepped away. Danny took his place, the feel of his hand on your waist and then your palm against his made his heart flutter. He tried not to notice as you half-stepped closer to him, swallowing down the smile. 

“I bet you’ll sleep well tonight after running around so much.” Danny cleared his throat, filling the small silence between you.

“Oh god yes, I can’t wait to crawl into that bed.” you sighed. “I can practically hear it calling out to me like a siren.” 

“You’ve been up for a long time, I swear I thought I heard you get up while it was still dark.” Danny laughed. Your smile faltered a bit, and you took a breath.

“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” you swallowed roughly, your truth tugging at your vocal chords to hide away. “I’ve been keeping something from you, and I’m sorry.” Danny’s stomach clenched. His mind led him to start putting things together, Sam flirting with you when he met you, dancing with you. You accepted and played back with him. You were in love with Sam. Danny’s heart began cracking; yet another love lost to Samuel. 

He should have expected it. Far more often than not, Sam’s charm, wit, and good looks won over the women in town. And if those didn’t work, him coming in fresh from smithing, muscles taught and the smell of fire on him would do the trick. It would fit that you too had also fallen to his allure. 

“What is it?” Danny asked softly, bracing for the pain of your answer. You met his eyes and took a deep breath.

“The reason you think I’ve gotten up so early this morning is because I did. Most every morning, I am up before you and the sun, and I get dressed and…I go see Sam.” there it was. Danny closed his eyes, beginning to pull back from you. “It is nothing sordid, I promise! I have only asked him to teach me how to protect myself.”

“Protect yourself?” Danny’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“To teach me to use a sword, to fight.” you explained further. “I didn’t tell you because…well I suppose I didn’t want you to see me as foolish.”

“I don’t think you are foolish at all for wanting to learn these things.” Danny shook his head at you, sad that you would think such a thing of him. 

“Perhaps more that if you saw me fail while learning, you would laugh at me.” your cheeks burned bright from your admission. “I don’t wish to be something of ridicule to you.” Danny’s chest heaved a sigh as his hand left yours and cupped your cheek gently.

“I have never once thought of you in that way,” he assured you. The warmth of his hand made your eyes flutter shut, your body sagging a bit as you finally rested for a moment. His chuckle escaped him as he watched your face relax. “Though at this moment I fear you may make me eat my words.” Opening your eyes, you looked back up at him. “You’re tired, go up to bed.”

“No,” you shook your head, standing up right and removing your face from his palm. His hand felt cold almost instantly. “I need to stay and help Fiora and Jake clean up.” Danny shook his head.

“I will stay and help. You go on and rest.” Danny watched you begin to argue, but your tired body won out, and you used the last of your energy to climb the stairs to your room. 

Danny kept his word, helping Jake and Fiora clean up in your place. He watched Sam and Josh leave, staggering off back to Josh’s for one last nightcap before bed. Only a few stragglers were left in the tavern when Fiora and Jake dismissed Danny, thanking him for his help. 

He had expected you to be asleep, passed out in the bed and possibly snoring. However, you were standing by the mantle in only your nightdress, looking uncomfortable. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“Josh is wonderful, but I cannot figure out how he did these braids and I can’t sleep with them in. I can’t figure out how to undo them and they’re so tight!” Danny closed the door behind him and stepped further in the room. “Could you help me?”

“Of course.” Without another thought, he was standing behind you, tugging the bow on the ribbon and finding the pin it was secured with, and removing it. Already your scalp felt more relaxed. His fingertips found the end of a braid, and he turned to the table, grabbing his smaller knife and carefully cutting the thread Josh had used to secure it. 

As Danny’s fingers unraveled your hair, your head tipped back, relishing in the comfort of his touch. A second braid was being unraveled and Danny, unable to help himself, let his fingers keep brushing through the soft waves, watching how your hair shone in the firelight. 

A soft sigh floated from you as his fingertips passed over your scalp, and he let the fingers continue down behind your ear. He let one of his hands gently brace your waist, something you barely registered as the back of his other hand traveled down to your neck in a delicate caress, before brushing the hair back over your shoulder towards him, and exposing your collarbone. 

He took his time exploring, gently tracing your bone to the hollow at the base of your throat. A shiver traveled down your spine as his fingertips ghosted the front of your throat, cradling your jaw and gently turning your face, to the point you had to turn around and face him. 

Through heavy-lidded eyes you looked up at him, though it was no longer sleep that kept them that way. It was the feeling of temptation coating the air between the two of you, it was almost as if you’d partook in the bottle of whiskey again, but no. Your head was much clearer this time, and as Josh’s voice echoed in your mind, you agreed with him. What could be so bad about letting yourself love Danny? If just for one night?

“I have something else I have wanted to tell you,” you murmured, voice low and quiet as you stared into his hazel green eyes. The flecks of gold danced beautifully as he rubbed his thumb across your jaw.

“Yes?”

“That night, when I stitched you up, and we were talking by the fire,” you began, cheeks glowing pink. “And you were talking about how I needed someone to show me how love making could really feel?” Danny felt as if he could burst into flames at any moment.

“What about it?” your eyes dropped momentarily, staring at the tuft of coarse, dark hairs on his chest that peeked through the laces of his shirt. When you met his gaze again, the fire he felt inside himself was reflected in your eyes.

“What if I wanted that? What if I wanted…you to show me?” your question had his breath hitch in his throat. His blood was pumping loudly in his ears all of a sudden, his brain repeating the question you asked over and over again.

“Are you sure you want that?” 

“I am.”

The fire crackled and popped in the heavy silence between yourself and Danny. His eyes left your face and trailed down your neck, his head bowing slightly as they traveled to your shoulder. His movement was slow, his hand coming to the base of your neck again and slowly sliding along the smooth skin of your shoulder until it met the small, ruffled sleeve of the nightdress you wore.

“Your skin,” he whispered, eyes still on your skin as his fingers pushed the sleeve over the round of your shoulder, down your arm, exposing more of yourself to him. “It glows so beautifully in the firelight.” His fingers trailed up and down the new expanse of skin available for him, slow and gentle. The calluses on his fingers were rough, but as they left a trail of goosebumps in their wake, you wanted nothing other than to feel them touch you everywhere, all over your body. 

Danny’s other hand repeated his actions on your right shoulder, exploring and mapping every centimeter of your skin he could touch. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you heard a small, quiet laugh rumble from his chest, and one of his large hands cupped your face, tilting your head up towards his. 

“My darling,” his lips met yours in a soft but demanding kiss, one that made you trail after him when he pulled back. You slipped your arms through the sleeves, and let the nightdress fall, puddling around your feet. Your eyes never left Danny’s as his flitted all about your body, studying every inch of you before his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you tight to him, his lips against yours. The kiss grew heated as his fingers gently dug into your skin, feeling you as much as he could. The feeling of his chest against yours lit you on fire, you found yourself nearly clawing at his shoulders to bring yourself closer and closer to him. 

His hands flexed into the skin of your back as they traveled the expanse of skin, gripping you and letting you know Danny also needed to feel every part of you. You felt wild, a hunger you’d never felt before starting to ache inside you. Danny’s lips trailed from yours, across your cheek and to your neck, licking and gently sucking at your skin. Your head lolled back, a shiver running down your spine at the sensation of his thigh coming between your legs, grazing against you. At your quiet moan, Danny’s hands landed on your hips and dragged you along his thigh keeping his knee slightly bent and his head dipped into the space between your neck and shoulders. 

Your nails dug into his shoulders, whimpers falling from your mouth as the friction from his trousers built a delicious sensation in your lower abdomen. Your hips began to try and match the push and pull of his hands, whimpers falling from your lips between Danny’s kisses. The sensation in your stomach was building, your muscles tensing and you became more desperate for whatever the outcome was. 

“Not yet,” Danny’s voice was low, and you groaned frustratedly as his leg left its spot between yours. His lips captured yours again before you looked you in the eyes determinedly. His hands left your back, tracing around to your front and cupping your breasts tenderly and gently swiping his thumbs over your taut nipples. A long whine emitted from your throat, beckoning for him to touch you more, yet his hands continued their path. Danny’s touch mapped the silhouette of your body, lowering himself to his knees in front of you. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he leaned forward, pressing his pursed lips against the skin of your stomach, just below your belly button. Your muscles tensed behind his lips and they spread into a smile against you. Danny’s hazel eyes glimmered up at you as he trailed his kisses lower and lower, until he was right above the place you were becoming desperate for him to touch. His hand trailed down your thigh, over your knee and to your calf before wrapping around your ankle. You let him move your body the way he wanted, watching as he bent your knee, aiding you in raising your leg and sliding it over his shoulder before he readjusted himself, coming closer to your center. 

“If I were your lover,” Danny murmured softly to you, letting his finger dance along the skin between your thigh and hip. “I would kiss you here. Would you like that?” You began nodding wildly, Danny chuckled under his breath. “I need to hear you say it,” 

“Yes, kiss me there.” 

Slowly, slower than you think anything had ever moved before, Danny leaned forward, parting your lips with his tongue and giving your core a firm lap, tracing the path to your clit and closing his mouth around it in a soft kiss. You gasped at the sensation, the words falling from your mouth before you could stop. 

“Again, do that again,” Danny chuckled against you, the vibration tickling and causing you to moan softly as he fulfilled your request. You didn’t have to ask again. Danny continued tasting you, teasing you, without another moment's hesitancy. His eyes never left your face, watching it contort and flush as he ate you out. “Oh god!” One of your hands shot out to grip the mantle as your knees started to become weak. The other hand tangled into Danny’s curls, tugging gently with every run of his tongue over your clit. 

The tension you started to feel before was beginning to build up again, your breathing became labored as your grip on the mantle and Danny’s hair tightened. Danny’s tongue was circling your clit now, quick, deep circles with the occasional flick over the sensitive bud. The glimmer in his eyes had taken a backseat to a determined darkness as you met them, the feeling in your stomach beginning to crest. 

“Danny! Oh, oh god,” you cried out, a feeling of euphoria flooding your body. You bent at the waist, pulling Danny into your core as much as you could. In response he tightened his grip around your leg, the other on your bottom and holding himself closer as you rode out your orgasm against his face. Your body quaked, and every small thrust of your hips made Danny hum, his tongue lapping up everything you gave him. 

When you could let go, you eased your grip on his hair, smoothing it down as he dropped your leg. In a quick motion, he was on his feet and had you wrapped in his arms again, kissing you and letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. As you kissed, you pulled at the fabric of his shirt, tugging it from his pants and trying to lift it off his body without separating your lips. 

“I’ve got it,” Danny smiled as he parted and took the shirt off. He went back in for another kiss but you put a palm flat in his chest, stopping him. You wanted to explore him as much as he did you, and you were going to take the chance to commit his body, the way it felt and moved under your hands, to memory. His eyes trained on your face as yours studied his skin, seeing the smattering of chest hair and letting your fingernails gently scratch into it. Danny’s chest rumbled with a hum in response and your fingers found themselves following the trail over his abdomen. When you got to his waist, your other hand gently grazed over the fresh pink scar there. The stitches had been removed and he was healing nicely. You smiled softly feeling the raised skin under your fingertips. 

Danny was doing his best to keep his breathing even as your fingertips caused goosebumps to ripple across his skin. Your eyes studied him carefully, thoughtfully. Your fingers touched and grazed as if he was a tapestry you were memorizing. Your hands came back to the center of his body, grazing into the finer trail of hair and following it down to the waistline of his trousers. 

It was then your eyes blinked up to his, lips parted, a question on them. He wanted to answer it, put his lips to yours again and consume it. Anything to have his lips on you again.

“And what would you wish for me to do to you?” your whisper was bolder than you had expected, your fingers beginning to creep into the waistband of his trousers. Danny’s hand caught your wrist, bringing your hand up to his mouth and kissing the center of your palm. 

“You do enough to me without even trying,” he admitted. His hand released your wrist, traveling down forearm before he bent, large hands on the backs of your thighs and tugging you up. Your legs moved with his guidance, wrapping around his waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, lips capturing his in another kiss. Your bodies swayed with movement as Danny crossed the room, shins finding the edge of the bed. 

Lowering your body to it, he broke away, standing back and gazing down at you laid on the bed in front of him. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this exact image, though the fantasy took place in the furs on his own bed in his cottage, the fire crackling and popping in the background. He had imagined that you would call his name, so softly yet it was like a siren song to him.

“Danny,” your voice was sweet, and he had to remember that it wasn’t his fantasy this time, it was you in front of him, waiting for the next touch. He moved towards the bed, and you sat up, resting on your elbows. “I want to see you…please?” Heat prickled his skin, and he nodded, curls bouncing. His hands found the waistband of his pants, and he slowly lowered them down his legs. He tried not to notice your eyes widen when they saw his cock, but the small smirk couldn’t stop tugging at the corner of his lips. 

You sat up further, scooting to the edge of the bed, only a few inches from his body. Looking up at him, your hand came up on its own, wrapping around the hard length. Danny sucked a harsh breath through his teeth. Your touch was delicate, and he swallowed as his cock twitched in your hand, your fingers tracing the vein underneath.

“If you touch me like that, I fear this will be over far too quickly.” Danny cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment. It had been too long since he’d laid with anyone, and he desired you, loved you so badly that any touch from you could unravel him too fast. His hand took your wrist again, tugging your hand away though every instinct in his body was yelling at him for it. “Lay back on the bed, love.”

Your heart fluttered as you did what he said, resting your head on your pillow. Danny climbed into the bed slowly, positioning himself over you. Your legs fell open for him, letting him rest against your body comfortably. He supported himself with one hand, the other cupping your face and stroking his thumb along your cheek before kissing you again, deep and slow. You could feel his cock on your inner thigh, and without realizing, you wiggled your hips impatiently.

“Patience, darling,” he mumbled against your lips, letting his free hand delve between your bodies. His fingers pressed against your core, feeling how worked up you were. Your gasp at his touch made him grin and he began teasing you, mimicking his tongues earlier movements with his fingers. “You’ll get what you want, I promise.” Soon after his vow, his fingers began prodding at your entrance, slowly pushing two in and out. Your back arched at the sensation, a moan floating out into the room. Danny watched your face, your body and when he felt you were ready, he added a third finger pumping slowly. 

“Danny,” you were panting, hips gyrating against his hand. “Danny, please.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not letting you come again unless it’s on my cock.” The words from Danny had you moaning again as his fingers withdrew and he adjusted his body, rubbing the head of his dick against your slick folds, gathering the wetness and using his hand to slicken the rest of his shaft. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched him. He stared at your pussy as his fist pumped his cock, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, no doubt thinking of how he tasted you only moments earlier. Every pass of the head of his cock against your entrance you clenched, feeling more and more needy for him. 

“Danny!” you whined, head falling back on the pillow frustratedly. Hearing his chuckle only made you whine again and before you could say anything, the tip of his cock was finally pressing in. Danny was slow, slower than he was with his fingers, and for good reason. The stretch from his member was slightly painful, but all you wanted was more. You wanted him to sink into you as deeply as possible as soon as possible. 

It was taking every ounce of Danny’s strength to move as slowly as he did. You felt amazing around him, your walls squeezing around him with every pump. Screwing his eyes closed, he focused on his breathing, making sure he didn’t rush this. If he only had this one night with you, he was going to make sure it was something you would remember for the rest of your life. 

Once he was in to his hilt, he paused, letting you adjust fully to the feeling. Your legs came up, squeezing the sides of his hips, as if holding him there. You felt indescribably full, your bodies connecting perfectly and you relished in the feeling as he kissed along your collarbones, down to your breasts. His tongue slowly and languidly swirling around the hardened buds, and you bucked your hips gently when you couldn’t stand the lack of friction anymore.

Danny drew back his hips slowly and began thrusting, setting a slow, deep pace. Already this was unlike your previous experience, it was fathoms better. Danny’s lips found every inch of your skin they could reach, leaving soft, hot kisses. Your back arched as the tip of his cock grazed a spot inside of you you’d never known was there, gasping and letting the sound turn into a moan as he did it again. 

“Do it again,” you sighed, hands coming to his shoulders and bracing against them. Danny smirked up at you, pulling himself out almost entirely before jutting his hips forward, shifting your bodies on the bed but sending a wave of pleasure through you. “More, Danny please,” hearing his name in that whimpering, needy voice was pure heroine to him, and he adjusted his pace as your legs wrapped around his hips, your heels pressing against his buttocks as if you were spurring on a racehorse.  “Yes! Yes!”

Danny watched your eyes flutter shut and your forehead crinkle as you focused on the sensations running through your body. Sensations he was causing. It made him even more eager to bring you to climax, to see you come around his cock, feel it, feel you. It wasn’t long before he could feel your thighs beginning to tense around his hips. Lifting a hand, he brought it to your face, tracing your lips with his thumb before resting the pad on your supple bottom lip. Your eyes opened and looked up at him, and without a thought, you parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth and gently sucking on it. 

Danny groaned and snapped his hips, the feeling of his release beginning to build. Your own moans vibrated around his thumb, and he pulled his hand away from your mouth. 

“Wanna hear you,” he gasped. “Need to hear you,” 

“Oh god Danny,” you nodded. “You feel so good, please don’t stop!” Danny’s pace was near animalistic now, causing you to cry out as your hands clawed down his back. He was nearly hunched over, face buried in your neck as he pounded away, lips and teeth nipping at your neck and shoulder.  “Fuck! Danny!” Your climax hit you harder than the first, your body writhing in Danny’s arms. 

Hearing his name on your tongue, called out in the throes of your orgasm was all it took to bring him over the edge, groaning into your neck as he spilled himself into you.  He rested his body’s weight on you fully, and you wrapped yourself around him as much as you could. It was hard to catch your breath but you wouldn’t give up this moment with Danny if your life was at stake. 

After a few moments, he slowly moved back, raising himself back up but not yet disconnecting your bodies. He looked over your body and gazed back into your eyes. 

“Was I too rough at the end there?” he asked, looking concernedly at a love bite on your neck that was beginning to redden. Truth be told, your moans and the feel of you squeezing his cock as you came around it made his entire vision blackout, his only focus on joining you.

“No, not at all,” you shook your head, reaching a hand up and cupping his face. He rested the weight of his head on your palm, gazing up at you. “In fact I quite liked it.”

“Did you?” Danny smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to the heel of your hand.

“I did.” you laughed softly. “Thank you,” Danny didn’t say a word, merely raised himself and brought his lips to yours in a soft, slow kiss. Your body tingled with goosebumps as it awoke again, and you could feel Danny shifting his hips slightly. 

“I didn’t say I was done with you, my darling.”

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[delicatesoundofthunderr]

Lock up~ Chapter 5

{Charles Leclerc x Reader}

SOOO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING MORE I SWEAR ILL TRY TO BE MORE CONSISTENT

•••

Post Italian GP

Y/N POV

My festivities were cut short because I was really tired, and my head was buzzing. I was going to walk back to my hotel room, which was also a great time for me to think this race over.

On my way, the streets were peaceful until I heard a rustling in a nearby alley. I instantly envisioned the worst. What could be hiding in there?

My heart started to quicken in my chest as curiosity got the best of me and I approached the sound carefully. I could make out the sound of... A meow?

I fastened my pace and sure enough, a cat was waiting there for me. It meowed loudly, almost smiling as it rubbed itself on me.

The cat was probably nearing adulthood, and was a bright orange. A little white spot under its chin was the only thing keeping the coat from a perfect amber colour.

" Well aren't you cute!" I say to the cat, lifting it in my arms.

The cat only purred and closed its eyes. No collar on the cat... Surely I could keep it? A little gift from Italy for winning the race!

" Oh my god I know what your name's gonna be. Monza!" I declared with a huge smile.

The cat meowed contently. I put him down, and suddenly Monza was following me. We both walked to my hotel, and when we arrived there i looked into my fridge to get something to eat. Mozzarella sticks would do the trick.

But, as soon as i opened one up, Monza looked at me with the biggest puppy eyes. I caved in and gave him some. He ate the thing up in half a second and purred.

"Monza likes Mozzarella apparently..." I giggle, my eyes bright.

•••

@yn.rb

Found this little guy on the side of the street... Welcome home, Monza 😊

@rm.reve: Aww!!

@F1.Drama: Max was so cute for giving you that win girl <3 true love!

@vmp.fr: Undeserved win tbh

@kyle.m: Yall think Max braked extra earlier on purpose?

-> @vmp.fr: 100%

-> @f1.4ever: for sure 😂

I was fucking fuming at the comments. I was gonna confront Max at the next Grand Prix. I went to bed with 100 emotions, hoping no nightmares would occur tonight.

•••

Present - France GP

Monza was now following you everywhere you went. It was very cute, but kind of sad when he tried to leave with you to go to the French Grand Prix. 

You did a last checkup of everything you needed and went to the door. Monza wasn't there anymore, so you took the opportunity to quickly leave before he came back.

You arrived at the track a bit later than usual, so most of the drivers were already there. You went into the garage and waved at your team with a smile.

Free Practices were coming up, so you had to get your head in the game and check the tests you were going to run in that session. You dropped your bags and sat down at the computer.

•••

Charles was feeling Ferrari's pressure more than ever, and he felt like being rude to everyone today. Even Carlos, who was constantly trying to cheer him up.

He decided to go take a walk to clear his head.

He was so immersed in his own thoughts that he almost tripped over something orange. Orange?

He look down and saw a cat. What the hell was it doing here?

"Wait... Is that not Y/N's cat?" thought Charles.

She kept posting it on social media... The little spot under the chin, how could it not be hers?

He decided to pick the rather small cat up, because it's a very dangerous place for an animal to be in.

The cat immediately clung onto Charles' shoulder and snuggled his head in the Monégasque's neck. He chuckled softly.

Leclerc decided to head to the RedBull garage to see if Y/N was searching for Monza. With one hand over the cat's back, he head off.

A lot of mechanics were staring at the Ferrari driver walking right outside their garage with a cat on his shoulder.

You finally appeared around a corner.

You looked at Charles with a puzzled expression, then a shocked one when you saw the cat that was now half sleeping on him.

" What?? What are you doing here..." you say, talking to the cat more than him.

"I found him near the pitlane and I thought it'd be safer to bring him back to you." Leclerc explains.

" Thank you so much I'm so sorry I don't- I don't even know how he got here." You say, bewildered.

You then reach out to take the sleepy kitty, but when you pull he doesn't budge. Monza's claws are deep into Charles' race suit, and you have trouble removing Monza from him.

" Oh my fucking god you don't even know him." You scold Monza, still tugging at the peaceful cat.

" Here, let me." Charles starts.

" Oh like it's gonna work with you." You say rolling your eyes.

He ignores you and pulls on the cat. His claws only tightened their grip and he didn't want to hurt the cat, so he stopped and looked at you.

You sighed.

" Come with me, I have string cheese in my room. And close your eyes, Ferrari boy. You're not supposed to be seeing all of this," you say, leading him by the hand because of his closed eyes.

You guys arrive there and Charles' hand lingers in yours. He closes the door behind you guys. You don't question it and instead head for the mini fridge.

As soon as you open the string cheese, Monza is on the ground, purring happily.

Leclerc can't help but laugh.

You smiled a bit, only just remembering the sound of his genuine laughter.

" He's a silly guy. Found him on the side of the street and he loves Mozzarella."

When Monza is done with the cheese, he's instantly back to Charles' feet. He chuckles and pets him. A heavy silence had seized the room, and it seemed to be bouncing off the walls by how loud it was. Charles puts an end to it.

" It's not a good idea." He suddenly looks up at you.

" What?"

" You and Max. And you know it." He says accusingly.

" It's none of your business. I like Max and he likes me. I'm not gonna stop myself from dating someone just because we're both drivers." You say half truthfully.

Charles stares at you intently, a tint of darkness in his usual bright eyes.

" It's not healthy."

"It's not your problem."

Charles looks at you one more time before opening the door, and he looks back over his shoulder.

" It won't end well. You know it." he seriously states, shutting your door and leaving.

•••

[writingshushf1]

Lover - chapter 3

Summary: the next 4 minutes have decided your whole life.  

Rating: +16

Warnings: unplanned pregnancy, intimacy (but not sex)

Word count: 3.5k

Note:  hey! sorry for not updating, I moved, uni started so I was basically studying, eating and sleeping, now that I adjusted into my routine- IT’S BACKKK! i hope yall enjoy it! don’t be a ghost reader! (also available on AO3.)

masterlist

(BEGINNING OF) JULY, 2024.

It’s been 6 weeks that you and Mick haven’t seen each other, it was the start of the break of the season, so he would be around a month with you. It meant you could actually talk to him about what happened between you two. That week, you scheduled a doctor’s appointment to know the sex of the baby, so then you would transform your office into a nursery.

The german would be back in a tuesday, so you made sure your appointment was going to be after that, to at least give the chance of him deciding whether he wanted or not to be in. It was a week after the ideal time to see the gender? Yes, but you didn’t actually care, probably on the last ultrasound, the doctor saw it’s sex, but you told him you didn’t want to know yet, because you were waiting for your friend to be back from his work trip and he was one of the most important people in your life. Seb also came to Monaco with Hanna, both of them wanted to be there for you, like your parental figure and you loved the idea, Mick even offered his spare room so they wouldn’t need to go to a hotel.

After a few hours on Tuesday, he messaged you after arriving at his apartment, although you wanted him to invite you, maybe it wasn’t the moment yet, to see him and act like nothing happened. You were working, thank God they still wanted you - at least until the baby was born, so all the paperwork you were avoiding last week now needed to be sent and approved by your boss. Everything was making you stressed, so you stopped for a while and layed on your bed, putting your hands on your bump and feeling little movements, still very subtle, if you weren’t alone, you wouldn’t be able to feel it; in two weeks others would be able to feel them kicking, because it would be stronger. Out of the blue, you heard your phone ringing, so you picked up to see Mick’s number.

“Hi…” You said softly.

“Hey… I… Can you come over? I’m feeling a bit lonely and Seb will arrive in the middle of the night, so I would love to have someone keeping me up.”

“Why will he arrive in the middle of the night and not during the morning?”

“Oh, the flight had problems, so they cancelled it and got an earlier flight, because the other available he wouldn’t be able to arrive on time for the appointment.”

“I’m going, give me 5 minutes.”

When you arrived, the door was already open and an anxious Mick was waiting for you, he looked at your belly, impressed by how big it was and then at your boobs, blatantly staring at them until you were too close for him to disguise. He hugged you gently, kissing your forehead.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You looked at each other for a few seconds before getting in and sitting on the sofa together. He let you lay your head on his lap, while you stayed in silence for a couple of minutes and the sound of the tv filled the space.

“Your bump is so big.”

“I know, right? 22 weeks.”

“Already? God, we’ve known each other for that long?”

“15 weeks, which would be almost four months, yeah.”

“I don’t know, it looks like we’ve always known each other.”

“Yeah… I don’t know, Micki, maybe we just clicked.”

You turned on your side, watching the random tv show, you felt his hands run through your scalp, caressing it; the affection was making you sleepy, even starting to softly snore. You heard him laughing at you.

“Sorry, I’m always tired and every chance I get to nap, I’ll do it.”

“It’s okay… I know you get tired because of the baby, but it was a bit funny that you just fell asleep within minutes.”

You laughed and looked at him again, sitting up dangerously close to him. One of Mick’s arms was around your waist, while the other was on top of his leg, almost on yours; slowly your hands were up his chest, with your face almost touching each other. You shouldn’t be doing this, it wasn’t the time, on the other hand, he was there for you, always. When you were about to kiss, his alarm rang, so you backed off from one another and he saw the time.

“We should get going to the airport, Seb and Hanna will arrive soon.” He said, getting up.

Frustration ran through your body, but you ignored, also getting up and walking behind him towards the garage from the building. You were feeling cold because you forgot your coat at your house, because when Mick messaged you, the last thought was going to get something to make you warm, he normally did that. The blonde noticed you shivering - even if it was summer, Monaco at night could be chilly, seconds later he was giving his coat to you and you felt drunk with his perfume exhaling from the jacket.

The ride till the airport was nice, mostly quiet, a consequence from your actions earlier - and you were napping for a part of it. He woke you up by lightly tapping on your shoulder, which initially you turned your body to the other side, then he tapped again, starting to talk about how you two would be late to see Sebastian, that made you wake up instantly. You waited for an hour till they arrived, the couple looking very tired, but that didn’t stop them from hugging both of you.

“Your bump is so big, honey!” Hanna said, touching it. “You said it was 22 weeks, right? Wow.” She smiled. “I know you weren’t into it in the beginning, but you do look beautiful, the pregnancy glow is working very well for you.”

“Right? The only thing I have to do regularly is to put lotion on my bump because it’s growing too fast and it’s stretching the skin.”

“That’s normal, I’ve been there three times.”

“Let’s go, girls?” Seb intervened. “I’m very tired and you two must be too.”

The ride to Schumacher’s apartment was silent, you let Sebastian sit on the passenger seat, so you and Hanna were in the back. Most of the trip you were sleeping, so was the blonde woman. Mick felt bad to wake you up, because he knew you waited on your feet for the German couple, so he took you into his arms and left you in his bed, taking off your shoes and the jacket, covering your body with a blanket before he showed the others where they would be staying. After they were settled, he put his pyjama - which consisted in only wearing boxer shorts, and laid next to you, however, he didn’t touched your body, seeing that your bump was big and he was afraid of hurting it; although, a few minutes later you were somewhat hugging his body as a result of not having your pregnancy pillow with you; the blonde liked that and tried to stay in the same position to not bother you.

It was 9am and you were up, in the kitchen making breakfast for everyone. Schumacher smelled the pancakes and walked in, still with his sleepy face.

“Good morning…” He smiled, putting his hands on your waist, laying his head on your shoulder. “Do you need any help?”

“Uhm… Yeah, wash the fruits, get the syrup and the honey, make the table…” You said, flipping a pancake.

“Ok. Coffee, tea and juice?”

“Yeah.”

You two were doing the breakfast when the German couple walked in, looking Mick and you together, talking and cooking together.

“They look like us when we were younger.” Hanna whispered.

“Yeah, they do.” Seb kissed his wife's forehead. “They look good together.”

Then you noticed their presence, blushing a little and pretending they didn’t see how you two were acting to each other. The four of you sat down to eat. Mick and Sebastian were talking while you concentrated on eating, considering you were doing that for two instead of one.

….................................................

It was the time for the ultrasound and you were there waiting with the other three for the doctor to start.

“Do you have any guesses on the baby’s sex?” The doctor asked.

“No. Not at all, I don’t think I’ve ever thought about that, being completely honest.” You said, looking at Mick, hoping he would say something.

“No one else?”

“I think it’s going to be a girl.” Seb said to support you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe a boy.” Hanna added.

“Let’s see if the… The patient's parents are right.”

Vettel didn’t correct the doctor, even though you weren’t father-daughter, he knew you would need some figure to be there and you internally thanked him for that. You couldn’t pay attention on the images, because all that was passing through your head was the image of a happy family, where Sebastian and Hanna were the future grandparents - or almost that, waiting for the result, while the dad of this kid was also there to be by your side, which it would be Mick. You noticed that the younger blonde was squeezing his hands together like he was holding himself from being closer to you.

Schumacher’s head was restless, all of his thoughts were running around at once, making him distracted from what was happening during the appointment. Fidgeting his hands to not get closer, looking around to not get nervous and if someone entered the room, they would’ve bet he was the father just from his actions.

“So…” The deep voice from the doctor awakened Mick from his trance. “It’s a girl! Congrats.”

“I knew it!” Vettel smiled, kissing your head. “You need to think about names! I had an idea for her room.”

"You always knows! It's not fair." You said to him. Vettel had guessed all of his kids when Hanna was pregnant.

“Congrats, schatz!” Hanna also walked to be by your side.

The younger German smiled, secretly holding your hand. “I would love to see a mini you running around.” He whispered.

Later that night, you and Hanna were making dinner while the boys were adjusting the nursery for the baby. You often walked there, to see them dirty with paint, talking in German and laughing. This was a night that you never thought would happen. On the other hand, you were so happy that it was, having them being there for you when you need the most, being this “non” conventional family that it’s better than you’ve ever asked for. When dinner was ready they changed their outfits to not stain the house with the paint. The four of you sat on the table, mostly filling the silence with small talks while you appreciated the delicious lasagna that Hanna made.

“I thought about a name…” You said, having the three pairs of eyes on you after that.

“Do tell!” Mick looked at you, curious.

“Okay… I liked the name Sophia. Is it a common name? Yes, but it’s pretty…” You took a sip of your juice.

“It’s a beautiful name.” Sebastian smiled.

“I think this should be the one.” Hanna completed.

“You sure?”

“Of course! It’s beautiful and… It's just… Clicks, you know?” Schumacher looked at you, his piercing blue eyes could see you through.

After the dinner, the boys offered to clean the kitchen, so you two went to the balcony to relax, no conversation needed. You loved that, the fact that Hanna became your second mom and was supporting you in this journey, the way she knows you to the core and tries to be a sort of grandma/auntie to the baby - now with a name to call, Sophia, that would probably get called Sophie as a nickname. She looked at you sometimes, smiling and taking a sip from her drink, maybe she was proud of you.

An hour later, you were back to Mick’s apartment since the German couple was staying there and you were asleep in no time again, but this time in his room. Sebastian and Hanna were in the spare bedroom, getting ready to sleep and the younger blonde? On his balcony, making a phone call.

“Mama. Hey.” He smiled. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too, lieb.”

“Seb and Hanna are here! I think you knew, right?”

“Yes, of course! How are things going? Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine! Really good time.” He looked at the streets, emptier than usual.

“And your friend? Does she know the sex of the baby?”

“It’s a girl… Seb somehow got it right.”

“Oh! Say that I’m happy for her.” She laughed. “He always does, Mickey.”

“Yeah… It’s going to be Sophia.” His tone was vague, like he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation.

“You want to talk about something, don’t you?” She knew him all too well. “When you’re not focused that means you want to talk about something.”

“Well… I’m in love with her.” He confessed, sighing out loud, which called Vettel’s attention while he was going to grab a bottle of water, then he stayed to see what Mick was saying. “But she’s…”

“Pregnant with someone else’s child. Yeah, schatz, it’s somewhat complicated, but not the worst.” She said “You should follow your heart, okay? Your dad would say that to you too.”

“I know, mama, I know.” He sniffled. “It’s hard, people judging that I’m taking a big responsibility into the growth of my career.”

“It is hard, it’s a child that we’re talking about and you're young, however… You should do whatever feels best to both of you, or better… The three of you.”

“I’ll, I promise.”

“And remember what your papa always said, private is private.”

“Yes, you know I follow this as much as I can.”

“By the way, come to visit us! I’m missing my baby boy.” She laughed and so did he. “And bring the girl, I wanna meet her. To see if she’s worth it.”

“Mama!”

“Just to make sure, sohn.”

“Okay. Danke, Mama.'' He smiled. “See you soon.”

Then Sebastian appeared on the balcony, scaring Mick.

“Sorry, I heard a part of your phone call with your mom, I know I shouldn’t have done it.”

“It’s okay, really… I would love an uncle Seb moment right now.”

The older German hugged him, running his fingers through the youngest’s hair while he breathed calmly, enjoying the comfort.

“It still hurts a little when she mentions dad.”

“Oh, liebling, it must suck sometimes… But she knows about things, that’s why she says it.”

“I know, I know.” He looked at his mentor. “Changing the subject before I start to cry… Mom said I should go and see them and bring… You know who, with me.”

“Really? Did Corinna listen to me? I’m flattered.” He chuckled.

“You gave the idea to her?”

“Maybe I did.” Vettel's unforgettable cocky smile was appearing.

“Why?”

“You admitted to her and yourself. You’re in love. You want her to be part of your family, then why not introduce her to them?”

“What if they don’t like her?”

“They will, I know they’ll.”

“But if she doesn’t want to go?”

“I’m sure she does want to meet your family because it is an important thing for you and she would do everything for your happiness.”

“And I would do the same for her.”

“See? You’re on the same page, but refuse to admit that to each other!”

“It’s because of the baby.”

“I know, on the other hand, does it really matter? She won’t go to the father of Sophie for anything, that means she’s single and obviously wants you. Maybe if you do think it’s better and can handle it, you can wait till the baby is born to start something and if you won’t go to try something, both of you will regret that.”

“I know… I hate that I know all of this but the courage doesn’t seem to get into my head.”

“It’s okay, you can go slowly, but always make sure to have conversation, that’s the most important thing you could ever have.”

“Thank you, Seb.” He breathed out, like a heavy weight was lifted off from his shoulders. “I needed a sign to come back to reality.”

“I will always help you and try to guide you to the best decisions.”

“That’s what a mentor does!”

They chuckled and walked to their respective bedrooms. Meanwhile, you woke up from the noise that Mick made when he entered the room, sitting on the bed and waiting for him to get into his pyjamas and lay on the bed.

“Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay…” You felt the baby move. “Actually, do you want to try to feel the baby moving?”

“Oh.” He was taken by surprise with your idea. “Yes, totally. Can I feel it, already?”

“You? Barely, I can feel it more, however, we can put our hands on my bump and wait. Also we can talk to her in hopes that she will move to the sound of our voices.”

He sat behind you, letting your back against his chest and laying his hands on the top of your belly after you rolled your shirt enough to show the bump.

“From which week can I feel it? Like, actually feel it?”

“Week 24. In two weeks.”

“Wow, it’s close.”

“Yeah.”

Both of you set your hands on your bump, slowly caressing and talking in a lower and softer spoken tone, so that the baby could listen - from this week, the baby can hear the parent’s voice. It was an intimate moment that would never do with him unless both of you were deeply in love. That was showing to Mick more obvious signs that both were on the same page, which let him be more sure of what he was going to ask next.

“Go to Switzerland with me. Let’s spend a week or so there, meet my family, spend time together where there won't be any cameras or people surrounding us with questions.”

You stayed quiet for a while, it was a big information to deal with.

“So…?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure… I was just concentrating on Sophie.” Then she moved abruptly. “Wow, that was a big move, little girl, too early for that.”

“Maybe she agrees with my offer.”

“Shut up, Mick.” You laughed, moving his hands around for him to feel it still moving.

….........................................................

During the morning, Sebastian woke you up to go shopping for the baby nursery related things, he was more excited than you were, which was the cutest thing to watch. You two were walking down the store hall, looking through cribs.

“You’re going to be her godfather, right? And Hanna, her godmother.”

“Is this a request or an order?”

“Both?”

He laughed, getting closer and stopping at a colourful crib and looking at it.

“I will.” He smiled. “Everything for you.”

“Good! Maybe she’ll call you Opa.”

“I’ll love that.”

You kept looking at things for the whole morning, buying a crib, outfits, decoration, more paint and some cloth diapers. The choice for the style of the room was rainbows, sunshine and rain, like summer. Mick and Hanna got scared on how many things you have bought for the room, they didn’t let you do any effort, just sit and see the room gaining life. When the room was finished it made you cry, it was beautiful, the love put on that little room was overbearing.

“We should put paint in our hands and put it on the front of the door.” You said. “I want this memory to be part of Sophie’s life.”

You had five different paint colours, so everyone could have one. You chose purple, Mick chose red, Sebastian chose green and Hanna chose yellow, probably in the future you would do her hand in blue.

“When it dries, I will write our names below.”

Later that day, you and Mick took the German couple back to the airport, they needed to be back at home for the kids. You cried again, because you weren’t going to see them anytime soon, so the moment was emotional.

The ride back was silent, none of you wanted to say a word, however, it was okay, the silence was comfortable. You went to his apartment, the paint was still wet and the smell made you feel a bit sick, so of course he would let you crash at his place for the night. Both of you sat on the sofa, now alone, no conversations going around, just you.

“We need to talk.” Schumacher said, fidgeting with his hands.

“We do.”

“Can I start?”

“Sure.”

“So…” He sighed. “My feelings lately have been bothering me, because they’re too much. When I met you, I thought I had a new friend that found out that was pregnant and I would be the annoying uncle… However, things haven’t worked well. I developed feelings, big ones and I tried to suppress them, because Sophia is someone else’s and I couldn’t take this place and you were… And is currently overwhelmed by everything changing so fast. But we kissed, made out and it felt amazing. I was caught up in this, Max even mocked me for it. And again, we set it out as a friendship, when we clearly are more than this. We sleep on the same bed, cuddle, you put my hands into your bump to feel her. I am confused about everything, because… I want to be yours, but I know that maybe you won’t be ready for it.”

You stood there, his words were like a sharp knife cutting into your chest, you didn’t know how hurt he was. He breathed out, chuckling and sobbing at the same time, looking down.

“You don’t feel the same, right?”

That took you out of your trance.

“Hey! Hey! Calm down… I disassociated, this was a big confession…” You held his face. “I have one to make it too.”

“Please, say it.”

“I also feel the same. It’s more than a friendship. I didn’t want to drag you with me because I knew that you would go all down for being a father figure and I don’t want that. You have a bright future and it’s too early for that, especially when you’re not the biological dad.” You felt tears falling off your face. “And what will people say about you? I’m worried about that too.”

“I don’t care about them, schatz.”

“But I do.” He wiped your tears off. “I like you and want what’s best for you only.”

“The best for me is to be with you, if you want to.”

It took you a few seconds to answer him.

“I do.” Both of you breathed out at the same time, like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. “We can go slowly, only making it official after Sophie’s birth, okay? Avoid telling anyone other than our family and closest friends. Right now, we don’t have an official label, we’re getting to know each other, is that good for you?”

“If this means that I can kiss you, I’m fine with it.”

He got closer to you, closing the gap between your lips; the kiss was salty due to the tears that fell from your face, it was slow and tender, like he was afraid to step in too much.

“We could take a shower together.” You suggested.

“For someone that wants to take it slowly, this is…”

“It’s not sexual! Oh God, you’re so horny.”

“Always, babe, always.”

You laughed, slapping his shoulder.

“It’s to create a bond, intimacy between us. When I’m in labour, you will see my body, so you should get used to it. Probably you will help me to shower and I’ll always be messy in the postpartum period, those times will be the hardest and it will probably be after the season is over, so you will be home to experience everything.”

“Okay… Let’s go then.”

You got your pyjamas and towels, going to the big bathroom. The undressing was awkward, none of you wanted to stare at the other, like it was a crime to do it. He turned on the shower, walking in with you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He hugged you from behind, bringing your body into the hot water. “Let me take care of you.”

Then he took the shampoo, putting on your hair and massaging the scalp slowly, leaving a trail of kisses in your shoulder. After he washed out, Mick put conditioner on your hair, carefully passing through your strands, while you relaxed with the attention. Soon, he grabbed the washcloth, putting the soap on it and passed through your bump, then shoulders, back, and legs, not getting close into parts of your body he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch.After the relaxing shower, when you were just wearing panties, he walked with you to the front of the mirror, grabbing a moisturiser and staying behind you.

“I remember you talking with Hanna, about having to put lotion because the skin is stretching.” He put the mixture into his palms, soon with them in your belly, moving around carefully. “I researched about it. Looked some tips and bought this one for you, it said it could help with it.”

“Oh...” Your heart melted with his softness. “Thank you, Schumi.”

“No need to thank me, it’s a treat for you that I’ve been saving it.”

Later, both of you were laying on his bed, cuddling while watching a movie, when he broke the silence.

“So… Are we going to Switzerland then?”

“Of course. I know how important it is to you.”

“Then I’ll get everything ready for us.”

[jayy-writes]

I keep forgetting to do this, but I’ve been posting quite a bit on ao3 as of recently.

I’ve written:

1. My Octonauts fanfic, Ring of Briars that I’ll be post chapter 2 for soon if you enjoy that,https://archiveofourown.org/works/51929134/chapters/131311180

2. A Drabbles work, consisting of Animal Crossing, The Amazing Digital Circus, The Music Freaks, and Octonauts stuff, give it a read if you’d like (Each Drabble’s fandom is numbered in the summary of the entire work)https://archiveofourown.org/works/51972490/chapters/131426497

3. A theory on the Black Butterflies you can see in multiple things Rosy has posted, and what they might mean,https://archiveofourown.org/works/50942194

4. A work with some of my poetry I’ve written, both for school and to write out my feeling on shit,https://archiveofourown.org/works/52358593/chapters/132451846#main

5. And Finally, A new TMF fic where it is set in an Medieval timeline, where Drew is a baker living the Kingdom of Starlight, in a small town called Meadow Rose, when a certain Peach haired Prince arrives in the land. https://archiveofourown.org/works/52358593/chapters/132451846#main

ALSO I’d like to let y’all know that there WILL be updates to both my TMF Chatfic and the fic “The Gay Headboy and Lesbian Headgirl” within sometime this January.

Another thing is that I might write something tied to my fic “Roller Coaster Hearts” at some point so let me know how you feel about that :)

See yall soon,

-Jay :3

[bonkbong]

tgif (part 2)

Soobin POV

"Why do I already feel like a terrible person?"

My words wavered as we headed toward the courtyard where Donavon was waiting for us and I could feel my heart nearly collapsing at the thought of canceling on him the day of our plans that we had set weeks in advance.

Granted those plans were fake to prepare for now but still...

I felt like a horrible person then and I feel even more horrible now.

"Just think of the end goal and you'll be alright," Mark whispered.

The warmth of May touched our frigid skin and despite the sun shining and everything seeming like an ideal happy day, I felt severely under the weather and sick to my stomach as my eyes landed on Donavon talking away with Jisoo and Jongho. With every step we took my stomach grew tighter and tighter until I felt lightheaded and suddenly had the urge to vomit up everything I had eaten the last two days.

"Mark, I can't...," I suddenly stopped.

"Are you alright?" he frowned.

"I feel really bad about this. I think if I go over there I'm gonna be sick," I gulped, my hands fiddling with the end of my shorts as they suddenly grew clammy.

"Just let me do all the talking," was all he offered.

Then he dragged me over to the trio that was suddenly interested in the two of us.

"Soobin, Mark!" Jisoo smiled.

"Are yall ready to go?" Donavon asked, excitement written all over his face.

It made a violent swirl rock against my stomach lining.

"Uh...about that...," Mark cleared his throat.

Jongho immediately stood while helping Jisoo stand as well, ushering her towards the gates.

"We'll catch you guys around," he waved.

"What's the problem?" Donavon suddenly asked while looking between us.

I focused my attention elsewhere while Mark began the start of the lie Jihyo wanted us to feed him.

"I know we were supposed to hang out today but our coach called this emergency meeting for all the seniors to prepare for our senior night and-"

"Just say you don't want to hang out, Mark," Donavon interrupted.

"That's not-"

"Yes, the fuck it is," he continued, snatching up his belongings. "Everybody has either canceled on me or just won't get back to me about the shit we had planned and honestly, it's fine. I'll just spend my birthday by myself and hope I can at least get a happy birthday from everybo-"

Suddenly, my stomach couldn't hold any more guilt and everything from lunch came up and out onto the grass with a vengeance. My knees grew weak and caved in which rendered me completely immobile as I vomited nonstop into the grass as if I was battling morning sickness or a really bad stomach virus.

"Donavon, it's not like that. We really did want to go out with you," Mark tried to plead.

But Donavon wasn't the slightest bit moved.

"Fuck you, Mark. And Soobin. And everybody else who canceled on me this week. Yall clearly aren't my real friends," he mumbled.

The steel gates then shuddered shortly after which finally allowed me to breathe since the day started and I was left hunched over my own vomit while Mark attempted to console the guilt that weighed heavy in my chest.

"You honestly handled that a lot better than I originally thought," he encouraged.

"...thanks," I coughed while cleaning myself up with some wipes.

"Let's go find the others so we can update them"

In no time, we found the party planning committee in the empty cafeteria seemingly going over all the small details before tomorrow arrived but their conversation ceased once they saw both of us take a seat.

"Did you do it?" I'Vin asked.

"We did," Mark assured.

"Everything is now in motion," Sana clapped.

"Now, we just have to move everything to the house, pick up the cake tomorrow morning, get the last of the decorations put up, pick up the food and frozen stuff, make sure the desserts are delivered, and...we should be fine," Aloni smiled.

"Remember, don't mention anything about the party or even his birthday. We need to keep up the act that everyone is super busy and didn't even have time to remember his birthday came, okay?" Jihyo looked around.

"Does the rest of the group chat know?" Mingyu frowned.

"They do," Nayeon nodded. "We made a separate group chat to tell them and we managed to gather everyone before they all left to remind them as well as give them things to do since we've been carrying most of the weight anyway," she shrugged.

"Well, team...," Yeji clapped.

"Tomorrow all our hard work pays off," Ryujin stood from the table.

"See yall bright and early!"

[galvanizedfriend]

I was listening to a podcast today about fandom/fanish stuff and there was a discussion about the state of fandoms in general and how people seem to be interacting or responding less and less to content creators. It's something that's been happening all over, but it becomes more glaring in older fandoms that seem to be shrinking (such as my little piece of hellsite here). We could talk about reasons why and all, but I don't think there is one single reason. More like a combination of several different things. Fandom spaces moving to discord, people losing interest, newer fans having some different ideas of how to interact with stuff due to arriving in fandom with an experience that comes mostly from TikTok/Instagram/algorithm-driven platforms, etc.

I've written about this in the past, but I feel like it becomes more and more relevant with each passing year. Since I have some new followers as well, just wanted to remind yall of the importance of giving positive feedback to your fave fanish content creators.

The only way content creators have of knowing what they're doing is being seen and appreciated is if you tell them. And the only way their content can spread is if you help them. This is not to say you have to share and comment on stuff you don't like, but if you *do* enjoy it, then yes. Writing comments on tumblr or hearting posts are great, don't get me wrong. These are awesome and everyone loves them. But the only person who sees those are the OPs. The way to help content spread is to reblog it. On AO3, it's to comment and kudos the fics. That's how you make stuff stand out. I don't know why people won't even leave kudos anymore, it's literally just pressing a button, but it's been happening a lot.

I promise you there is nothing wrong with leaving comments on old fics or reblogging old stuff on tumblr. This is not instagram, nobody thinks you're stalking them. Doesn't matter if the story was posted a few days ago, a few weeks, or even a few years. Or if the gifset has been going around for a decade. I know I don't speak only for myself when I say it makes my day to know people are still reading my older fics, or starting a series that I finished writing years ago. And as for newer stuff - there is really no better way to encourage your fave writers and creators in general to keep doing what they do then to show them you're there. Doesn't matter if it's a single line of comment on AO3, or a reblog with no tags whatsoever on tumblr. It works just the same as long-ass comments and a gazillion screaming tags.

When you spend weeks working on something, hours every day, and it feels like nobody cares, it's really discouraging. Some people deal very well with doing stuff for themselves, and that's awesome, but most people get super motivated through validation. Be it to continue something, or to start something new. It can be super scary to share stuff with others publicly - it is for me, to this day, I get super nervous posting stuff, just freaking out about how people are going to react, and I know how important having this validation is for me, which is why I feel so strongly about this. I know I can consider myself somewhat lucky in my current fandom because I seem to get a kind of traction that not many authors do these days, at least with one of my fics, but even then it can feel a bit discouraging to see that general atmosphere of silent contemplation of stuff spreading.

I know we have loads of new people around, so please, please, don't underestimate the power of your support! It really does magic! Sometimes, getting an awesome comment might encourage people to continue stories they had practically abandoned. Or to post something new. Or to finish that update you've been waiting for. It does not bother anyone to know they have readers eager for their stuff, and when they do publish/post it, it's super important to let them know you were there and you appreciated it, because that's the only way we know. We cannot just guess.

So if there's any content creator out there that you follow, admire and whose work you'd like to see more of, be it a fic writer, or a video maker, or an artist, or someone who makes edits and gifsets, *anyone* creating stuff in your fandoms, don't hesitate to let them know. Show your support, KUDOS the stories, reblog their posts, leave comments whenever possible - *on the actual stories*, if possible! Let people know they're not screaming into the void. Fandom is also about community, and there is no better way to create that feeling than to share - experiences, ideas, content, anything. It's how we keep our blorbos alive and thriving even years after their original habitats have been extinct (or made toxic by crappy showrunners).

And as always, this is a reminder that my inbox is always open to whatever. If you want to share recs, talk about a fic you read, about the shows, silly blorbos, or if you have a thought or a question about something I've made, so long as it's not disrespecting anyone in fandom, all's fair. I do not mind at all.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, hope you have a wonderful week!

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate

Warnings: Use of cursed techniques/action. Occasional improper/rough language. Fighting and descriptions of blood

Chapter number: 1

Next chapter: The Rebirth

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst and fluff. Angst with a happy ending. (Yuh I don't do sad endings yalls). Noritoshi x fem!reader

Type: multi chaptered fic. Yes this is gonna be long.

Notes: I've been wanting to write a Noritoshi fated soulmates fic in forever! The story is still in progress and I will update it here as I go. Characters are not mine; all rights reserved to Gege Akutami sensei for the creation of Jujutsu Kaisen. Please don't repost my story or work anywhere, just keep it here in Tumblr. Thanks - all rights reserved to limitlessgojo.

CHAPTER 1: The First Meeting

Going to Kyoto Jujutsu High School for high school had always been inevitable. You knew that you were destined to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer, due to the power you've been born with. 

Psychokinesis. A very rare yet powerful strength that allows you to control almost everything around you. And yet the difficulty with manipulating such fine air particles or volatile flames was surprisingly not a huge obstacle. You were born with good instincts and you've always used your cursed technique well.

Just as Gojo Satoru from the Gojo clan mentioned the overall difficulty of controlling his limitless technique, you had to fine tune and play to your strengths as you grew. 

And here you are now, standing in front of the imposing yet beautiful campus of Kyoto Jujutsu High School. You gulped. "Now now," the pretty lady who introduced herself as Utahime sensei earlier spoke, "I understand why you'd be so nervous moving into the dorms. But don't worry, most of the older students are out on missions at the moment. Though you will probably meet your classmates within the next few days, Tsuchimikado chan." 

"Thank you so much Utahime sensei. Yes I'll try to relax a bit, but I just feel so nervous meeting new people. Oh and you can call me y/n. I'm aware my surname is a bit long." You replied. 'And not to mention, everyone here must be a powerful warrior. I wonder if anyone is crazy or really intimidating…' you wondered to yourself. 

She pats you on the back and guides you to move forward and into the campus, "Ah then y/n chan should be fine. If someone bullies or hurts you just come straight to me okay? We don't tolerate that kind of behaviour here. … at least I don't." She added as an after thought.

She was very gentle. It made you feel more at ease. And it also helps that there are so much plants on the campus, much more than you expected. 

She led you to your dorm room. It had a queen sized bed as per your request, a small kitchen, dining table, TV, single bathroom with a shower and a bath tub, and the usual furniture. It was spacious enough that 2 people could probably live together in the room. 

After thanking her, she left you to settle down. You made yourself at home.

"Should I go out and explore the campus now? … we didn't bump into anybody yet. And Sensei did mention earlier that I am the first First-year student to have arrived on campus.. hmmm. Yeah best to be safe and do it now. I guess I can rest tomorrow anyways."

Classes don't start for a few more days, so you had time to rest and get familiar with the campus. You were just wearing a simple black and white tracksuit set, and looked decent enough in case you were to bump into anyone. 

So you left your room and strolled the campus. Armed of course, you never know what might happen. Something feels different and you knew it. Like a calm before the storm. 'But for what? Nothing's gonna happen. I'm within the protective barrier and yet all my hairs are raised and it feels like electricity is running through my veins.' 

You strolled along, looking at the buildings from afar. Recognising some from the map of the campus you had browsed the night before. You spotted the library and the weaponry. You'd have to ask permission to go into the latter. For a moment you forgot your nerves and were brimming with excitement. 

'At least I'll be able to get stronger while I'm here'. You happily thought. As you had always aimed to get stronger to support and protect your family. 

But the nerves came right back at you after a short bit. You felt your twin short blades tucked underneath your long sleeves and held onto the hilts. 'I must be out of my mind… nothing is going to happen.' You kept repeating the phrase in your mind.

You walked over to the huge track and field. You were so distracted by the view (you were trying to measure the distance by eye, give yourself some slack) that you failed to see and sense a figure coming up to you. Until their wave of cursed energy washed over you and you quickly spun around, eyes widening. 

Pretty. That was the first word you thought of upon seeing the man. Intense was the next thing you thought. Black hair, with bangs falling above his shoulders, secured to the sides with two white bindings. He was taller than you. A uniform with wide loose sleeves like a butterfly's wings billowed around him. You quickly bowed in greeting.

"Hello! I'm an incoming first year, my name is Tsuchimikado Y/N, and I am of the Tsuchimikado clan."

"2nd year, Kamo Noritoshi, eldest son of the Kamo clan. It's nice to meet you." He replied. And immediately shivers ran down your spine upon hearing his voice. '! And he is a senior too!' you thought.

"You're from the Abe Clan right?"

"Uhh yes I'm of the Abe clan. The Tsuchimikado are a descendant branch of that family. Descendants of Abe no Seimei." you said. "I've also heard of the Kamo clan, one of the great 3 Jujutsu clans.…."

You trailed off as you looked back up, straightening to meet his eyes. And upon making eye contact with him, you had a vision you've never seen before.

Flames were all around you and the strong smell of blood doused the air. You were fighting against curses back to back with a man. 

You couldn't control your actions. It was as if you were watching the events unfold through a movie screen. But you recognised your technique.

"Extension Cursed Technique: Niflheim!" You chanted and spread out your hands, instantly freezing a large amount of curses around you. "Convergence! Piercing Blood!" The man behind you yelled out, shooting down the frozen curses. 

Working in perfect harmony with one another to bring down the curses, even though it was the both of you against well over a dozen, it was an easy win. After the battle and confirming that all curses have been dealt with, he turned to look at you with the biggest grin. 

The man had long black hair. Gentle slanted eyes, high cheekbones with pale skin. You didn't recognise him from anywhere, but somehow the body you were in knew his smell and figure. He pulled you into a deep kiss, murmuring "My love, you have done so well." against your lips. "Would my lover like to accept her reward?"

"If you could please do so." You breathily replied to him. You raised your hands to entangle them in his hair. His high ponytail had been loosened from the fight. You ran your hands up and down his chest and back, feeling the muscles flexing underneath your fingers. Pressing your body against to his and feeling the warmth run across your midsection-

Suddenly the vision ends and you're back in the present, cheeks on fire and staring back at Kamo. It was then you properly saw the color of his warm brown eyes and noted his flushed face.

"...." 

"..." 

Neither of you spoke out loud. And you started wondering if he saw the same thing you did. But that was… what was it? The more you tried to reach back to the vision, the harder it was to remember. 

"… I'm sorry but did you see something just now?" You had to ask him just to confirm you weren't hallucinating.

"I saw myself fighting with a woman. And I was using my family's inherited cursed technique." he said.

"I saw something similar, but I was with a man. I was using my cursed technique! But it seemed like a different period?? It wasn't…. We weren't in modern day clothes… and the formality of the language was…" You stumbled over your words, trying to remember the vision but the images remained hazy. 

"So… maybe we saw memories of other people. A vision of the future?? Although unlikely... Or perhaps….?" He quieted down as he considered possibilities. Stepping forward to close the distance between you. He stared at you from head to toe as if analysing your being. This made you self conscious. A handsome man, checking you out…

"I'm not so sure. Is this the first time it happened to you?" You asked him. "I've never had this before."

Kamo replied with, "Same here. Let's keep this to ourselves first and research about it. Such a thing isn't impossible in the world we live in." 

"I can think of a few other cases, but I don't want to jump to any conclusions." You agreed with him. 

"Let's head back the sun is beginning to set." He remarked. With a start, you realized that the sky was darkening quickly. "No way, we still had about an hour until sunset earlier!" You gaped up at the sky. It was already turning into a deep orange. Your shared vision with Kamo lasted longer than both of you had expected.

"Come along. I can take you around the main areas. You're new aren't you?" Kamo beckoned you to follow him. "Ah yes, thank you so much! I hope it's not a bother. And how should I address you? Kamo San? Kamo Senpai?" You hurried after him. 

He stopped and stared at you. Then a beat passed. "Noritoshi senpai is okay. I don't mind." 

Your face that was cooling down suddenly flushed red again. You quickly turned to the side, "Are you okay with that? We've only just met…" 

"And yet it feels like we have known each other already." He finished for you. "It's fine with me unless it makes you uncomfortable. Call me what you wish."

"Then Noritoshi senpai, I'll be in your care. You can call me anything you want, Y/n is fine." You turned to peek at him. His ears were turning pink, how cute. 

You reached the main building and he brought you around the main areas. The dining area was spacious, and the weaponry was particularly impressive. "That's about it. There are more, but it's getting late and I'll be having dinner soon." Noritoshi said. 

"Ah yes, I'd hate to bother you. Thanks so much for bringing me around senpai! Then I'll excuse myself." You smiled and were about to walk off until he reached out. But stopped short of holding onto your arm.

He looked like he wanted to say something. So you waited expectantly. 

"If you want me to bring you around the other places in campus, I can show you around tomorrow." Noritoshi said hesitantly. You smiled and said you wouldn't mind. 

"Thank you for today senpai. Good night!" You waved at him. He lifted a hand in return, lips slowly quirking into a gentle smile for the first time that day. Then he turned and left you to your thoughts as you returned to your dorm.

End Notes: In my Alternate Universe, red strings of Fate are very real and very rare. Most people don't chase after their soulmates but a lot of people of course dream about it. The strings of Fate in this particular story bind people and let them share feelings, thoughts, even some sensations to an extent. And from the parents who are both soulmates, stronger children with powerful jujutsu Techniques are born. (Taking a note from my hero academia and how quirks meld and evolve after generations!)

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[entishramblings]

The Silent Ones

[Thranduil + Legolas; father/son relationship]

A.N: So, this is based off of my comments on THIS post! All yall said I needed to write up my idea, so indeed I did!

Request: none-ish?

Pairing: Legolas and Thranduil (father/son relationship)

Summary: After Thranduil is injured by dragon’s fire and stuck in unconsciousness, Legolas is left to rule Greenwood.

Word Count: 1,943

Warnings: angst, fluff

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Legolas slammed his palms against the closed, wooden doors of the Woodland Realm’s Healing Ward. Without waisting a second, he pushed them open and rushed through the archway in panic. He was still in his steel battle armor and loaded with various weapons—bow, arrows, knives, daggers, and sword. Minor scraps and bruises littered his form, along with harsh splashes of blood that was not his own. He looked like a beaten mess, which of course made sense considering he just returned from the battlefield with hundreds of other Greenwood guards.

As soon as he entered, he was met with the sight and sounds of a bustling infirmary. Spread across the room were many injuried elves. Some were grunting or hollering out in pain and others were silent—it was the silent ones that were the real concern. However, that was not the reason Legolas was there.

With frantic eyes, he pushed past various healers and soldiers—searching desperately.

“Where is he?!” Legolas called out. “Where is my father?!”

All of the eyes in the room shifted and whispers sprung from their lips—incessantly, endlessly, ceaselessly.

“Where is he?!” The Prince demanded, his voice raising.

A healer, one that Legolas had known since he was an young ellon, approached him. With a soft and cautious voice, he spoke, “Legolas, your father—“

“Where is he?”

“Legolas—“ the healer began.

“JUST TAKE ME TO HIM!” The blonde elf bellowed.

The healer nodded, but his gaze was full of anxiety. Legolas knew it was bad.

The Prince followed him to the back of the infirmary. With ever step, his heart pounded faster and his blood burned with agitation. The curtain they were approaching loomed like a darkness in his mind. Did he really want to see what was on the other side?

However, Legolas did not have much time for contemplation because the healers hand grasped the fabric and yanked it backward for the two to enter. Slowly, the Prince stepped through, the hanging fabric falling back in place behind him.

As his ocean colored eyes fell onto the broken form of his father, Legolas clenched his jaw and fisted his hands. It took everything in him not to let a tear slip from his eyes. His father’s face, neck, and shoulder were almost entirely wrapped in bloodied dressings. It was wound around him tightly, securing the healing poultice to the burns underneath. The side of Thranduil’s face that was not encased in white gauze remained silent and expressionless. It remained quiet and empty.

It was the silent ones that were the concern.

Swallowing dryly and keeping his gaze glued to his father, Legolas spoke to the three healers crowded by the King’s bedside. “How bad is it?”

No one uttered a word.

“How bad?!” The Prince snapped.

“His injuries are extensive. The damage to the tissue is severe and his vision in his left eye will most likely be impaired.” The healer paused before speaking again, this time in a quiet whisper, “I—I am sorry, My Lord.”

Legolas blew hot air through his nose before speaking. “But he will survive? He will recover?”

A different healer answered this question. “Most likely, yes.”

The Prince turned towards her with an enraged scowl. “What do you mean most likely?!”

The nervous elleth bit her lip and looked up at him anxiously. “Well, we—we are unsure. It is too early to tell, but—but he is stable.”

Legolas nodded and focused back at his father as his mind filled with thoughts of doubt and frustration. How was Legolas supposed to do this alone? How was he supposed to rule Greenwood in his father’s absence—especially with the aftermath of a war exhausting their resources? He wasn’t a king—he didn’t know how to regulate and control an entire realm? Hell, he didn’t even know how to keep himself together in this room. He was barely old enough to lead the guard, nowhere near close enough to rule a kingdom. He was about to break and he knew it.

Legolas’ mouth set in a hard line as he turned to face the elves before him. “Keep me updated on his condition. If anything happens, I want to know immediately.”

They nodded in understand.

And with that, the Prince turned on his heal and stalked out of the secluded area. His footsteps thudded into the stone ground as he passed every elf in the infirmary. They gaped at him in trepidation, but he gave them no indication or acknowledgment. He just stormed through the cots full the broken bodies of his fellow warriors.

The doors to the infirmary closed behind the Prince, leaving him in the eerie silence of the empty corridor. Immediately, he pressed his palms and forehead against the cold, stone wall and squeezed his eyes shut. He stood there, letting his chest rise and fall rapidly, trying to pull himself together.

It was the silent ones that were the concern.

......

About a month had passed and, much like the surrounding areas, Greenwood had suffered great demolition from the dragon’s fire. Yet still, the King laid frozen in an unconscious state. Worries and whispers had constantly flown about the halls. Would he ever wake up? Was this the end of Thranduil’s life? However, Legolas had no answers for his people. He had no answers about anything.

Currently, the Prince sat upon the winding, wooden throne surrounded by various scrolls and papers. Night had long since fallen, and his mind was fogged from exhaustion but that mattered not. He still had multiple patrol reports to read, countless messages about trading agreements falling through, and various pleas for help from surrounding villages. Not to mention, all day he had been overwhelmed with several pestering officials and advisors arguing and bickering over what the best options were. But they had been no help—clearly. The only thing Legolas felt that he accomplished this month was depleting the wine collection, and that wasn’t necessarily a good accomplishment.

The young Prince was entirely worn out. There was no other word for it. The amount of stress and anxiety that bled from his mind was unbearable. He felt as if the world was caving in around him and trapping his form in an unknown environment. All his people—the guards, the maids, the servants, the everyday lay elves—they looked to him for guidance. Yet, he had none to offer. He was barely holding it together, much less running a kingdom.

Legolas sighed as he let yet another paper float from his hand to the floor. He couldn’t do this any longer. He just couldn’t. The Prince leaned forward, pressing his elbows into his thighs and placing his head in his hands. He sat there for a moment, still and broken. He could not help the frustrated tear that leaked from his eye. Everything was just too much. He missed life as it used to be. He missing only being captain of the guard. He missed only worrying about a small section of elves. He missed his Ada (father).

He felt entirely and utterly alone.

Standing up suddenly and grasping the neck of a forest colored wine bottle, he went to take a drink. However, before he could bring the bottle to his lips, rage infiltrated his blood.

He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t.

Legolas took the bottle and, with as much force as he could muster, chucked it against the wall as a loud yell bellowed from his mouth.

Exhaling slowly, he starred at the mess he caused. The little liquid that had been left now resided in the same place as the shards of glass. It spread across the floor—fragmented and red. Legolas clenched his jaw. He knew in his heart that he was just as broken as that bottle.

Not even a minute after, the large doors pushed open and a young ellon ran in.

“My Lord—“

Legolas shook his head and waved him off. “Tis’ nothing. Just leave it.”

“No. it’s not that.” He paused. “It’s—it’s your father. He’s awake.”

Instantly, Legolas head snapped up.

“He’s—he’s awake?”

A quick nod was all the Prince needed to leap down the steps and sprint in the direction of the healing ward. His pulse raced as he made his way through corridor after corridor. It was not long before he arrived at the infirmary.

The guards pulled the doors open and Legolas stepped through. In the nearly empty room, his eyes immediately landed on his father.

Thranduil stood, his back facing his son, talking with two healers. His hair was brushed smooth and a silk, white tunic and a pair of matching trousers covered his form.

“Ada?” The Prince called out weakly.

The King turned his head. His lips parted as his blue eyes met his son’s identical ones.

“Legolas,” he whispered.

Without any hesitation, Legolas sprinted forward. He had to stop his body from aggressively slamming into his father’s when he wrapped his arms around him. Still, Thranduil softly groaned at the impact, but he accepted the embrace from his child. The two royals then stood there, gripping tightly onto each other, as if there was nothing left in the world. The King cupped the back of Legolas’ head as his son buried his face into his neck. He could feel Legolas’ fingers tugging slightly on his hair, but he did not mind. He was just glad to be awake and have his son in his arms.

After what felt like ages, the two pulled away.

“But Ada,” Legolas whispered. “What happened to the burn? It looks as if nothing was ever there.”

The King chuckled lightly, “It is still there, only masked with illusion magic.”

Quietly, Legolas responded, “May I see?”

Thranduil closed his eyes for a moment and his perfectly smooth skin faded away. Ripped, contorted, and warped flesh took its place.

Legolas could do nothing but stare with a pained expression. It had healed, yes. It truly did. But it was an broken deformed scar. It looked, agonizing.

“Does—does it hurt?”

Thranduil tilted his head and, as he spoke, the burn faded away to the face that Legolas had always remembered. “A little, but the medications help.”

Legolas nodded slowly. “I am just glad you are awake. It has been hard with out you. I—I don’t....” He let his sentence trail off into nothingness.

Thranduil smiled sadly, “I know, iôn non (my son). I know.”

The Prince glanced down at his feet before speaking again. “I thought—I thought I lost you like we lost Naneth (mother).”

At his words, Thranduil’s brow pulled together and he could not help but see his son as the small child that he had raised.

“Oh, Legolas,” He whispered.

Thranduil pulled the Prince back into his arms and, at that, Legolas could not stop the couple tears that rolled down his cheeks.

Family truly meant everything to elves, and this was all that these two had left.

When father and son pulled apart once again, Thranduil cleared his throat. With raised brows and a sarcastic tone, he spoke. “Now, how much of a kingdom do I have left, considering it was left in your particularly destructive hands for a month.”

“Ada!” Legolas spluttered.

The King chuckled. “Well, when you were little, you—“

The Prince groaned. “I know, I know. You left me alone on the throne for a moment and I completely demolished your crown. We don’t need to bring it up again.”

Thranduil grinned. “I rather like that story. The advisors think it is hilarious every time I tell it to them!”

“Ada!”

......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress?@quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding @brun-lieve @idiotic-canadian

Legolas tag: @dark-angel-is-back @mylittle-escapingdreams @moriamithril @abandoncloud9 @bweakmybonez @hey-its-nonny

Thranduil tag: @tiefliing @moriamithril @veilfirxs?@of-mirkwood @themerriweathermage @artsywaterlily @hey-its-nonny

This specific fic tag: @from-patroclus-with-love

If you want to be on a tag list, just LMK

[missmorosis]

NOW COMPLETE!! masterlist is here!

morosis is now arriving at: 400 followers!

YALL ARE TRYING TO MAKE ME CRY I SWEAR 😭😭 I LOVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU SO SO SO MUCH ITS NOT FUNNY

at this point tumblr is one of the things that keep me going and im so grateful for everyone ive met/will meet~ THANK YOU SO MUCH IM SCREAMING WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE YALL

HUGS AND KISSES FOR ALLLLL!! IF YOU DONT LIKE THOSE,,, HAVE A HIGH FIVE DJJDJRJR

technically im only like halfway done with my 200-350 followers event, SO I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUN TO HAVE A MORE "INTERACTIVE" EVENT!!

this time, you’re writing something rather than me!

OKAY!! i wanted some sort of theme for this event, like my sleepover, sooo everything is a bus ride i came up with this idea at 1am!! 

each prompt is a city, and each blurb you write becomes a bus stop in that city! that makes no sense shut up morosis

BASICALLY ill give a couple prompts in a moment for you to choose from!! using one of the prompts below, you write a lil blurb & post it for me to read! make sure you follow all the guidelines!!

ill make a masterlist/bus map at the end of the event!

pick one of these prompts!! either choose a city or a piece of dialogue: your pick!

[on a side note, these city puns took forever to create in my head please give me some creative credit </3]

city 1- los AU-geles (Los Angeles, California)

-> write an AU!! the AU can be literally anything: royalty AU? road trip AU? GO FOR IT!! just as long as it’s not in the canon era hehehe

city 2- lon-DONE (London, England)

-> breakup fic time </3 you can make it an angsty breakup, or a fluffy exes to lovers!

city 3- BRRR-lin (Berlin, Germany)

-> BRR AS IN COLD OKAY what would the character do if you were cold? laugh at you? give you his jacket? take you inside? buy you something warm? POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS 

city 4- b-ILL-bao (Bilbao, Spain)

-> b-ILL-bao BECAUSE “ILL” AS IN SICK BKJKSDJ- IVE WRITTEN SO MANY SICKFICS ITS NOT FUNNY- but since they're lowkey 99% of all i write, i figured it was your turn to write one!!

here are some whispers on the bus... (dialogue prompts! feel free to use these if you’re more comfy with dialogue prompts hehehe)

passenger 1 says, “You’re an idiot.” another replies, “I’m your idiot.”

passenger 2 says, “Wait. Stand right there, I want to take a picture of you.”

passenger 3 says, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

passenger 4 says, “Can you just hold me for a bit?”

passenger 5 says, “I’m not threatening you!” another replies, “Well I feel pretty darn threatened.”

passenger 6 says, “Can you come over?” another replies, “I’m already here.”

just a couple before we start...

- include a title, genre, summary, and word count!

- put the blurb under the tag "#morosis's 400 followers bus ride"! this is so i can find it when i make a masterlist of all the work!

- tag me when you post it! @/missmorosis so i dont miss it!

- this event is 100% sfw!! i am a minor after all, and i know many of you are as well!

- there is no word limit/genre you need!! do whatever you want, as long as it relates to the prompt in some way! you have complete creative freedom!

- if you plan to write something, please lmk via reblog, ask, dm, or reply! i just want an idea of how many people are actually gonna write something HSHSHD

- this event is for haikyuu and atla!!

- YOU DON’T NEED TO BE “GOOD” AT WRITING OR A WRITING BLOG IN GENERAL!! this is all just for funsies!! trying something new is encouraged!!

everyone is welcome to participate hehe!! send an ask if you have any questions!!

IF NOBODY WRITES ANYTHING, YOU DIDNT SEE THIS

event will last march 22- april 12th*, 11:59pm PST, give or take! 

HAVE FUNN!! MWAH MWAH THANK YOU AGAIN!!

*date was updated hehe

[kenmashoe]

❝christmas cookies❞ kuroo tetsuro.

day one of ❝ 8 days of holidays with haikyuu❞

drabble pairing: kuroo tetsuro x reader

summary: ❝ Your first Christmas break with your college frat boy boyfriend. He’s invited you to spend Christmas with him and his family in his hometown, but your plans got a little delayed and you’re arriving a day late so he’s baking cookies for you to go “home” to.❞

word count: 672

genre: fluff

a/n: guess who’s back after a LONG hiatus. yes me, me. i hope yall haven’t forgotten about me because i have not forgotten about you. MERRY EARLY CHRISTMAS with this kuroo fluff thing that i wrote hazily just because i wanted to come back and wish you all. i’ll try to update daily for 8 days in a row ALTHOUGH THAT WILL BE A HASSLE knowing how lazy i am. anyway i love you all and i hope you’ve been staying safe, mwah! <3

“Kuroo.” his name rolled out of your mouth a little more aggressively than what you intended it too. Tapping on your phone’s screen gently, your nails made a weirdly entertaining sound and your pout slowly faded away. “I missed you.”

From behind the screen, you could see the way his mouth turned upwards in a half assed goofy smirk, while plopping the cooking ingredients on the counter. “I was gone for THREE minutes.” Three slender fingers were held up. “And I was still IN the kitchen.”

“Not IN my range of view though.” You had to stare at a random part of his kitchen, from where his phone was positioned; all the while he gathered everything he needed to bake cookies. A giggle escaped your lips at the thought. He was baking cookies, Christmas cookies, while video calling you, in your dorm room, a whole city away.

Rolling his sleeves up in a swift motion, he looked at you who were now chuckling, confused. “You seem really into it, Kuroo. Maybe you’ve chosen the wrong thing to major in.”

His eyes shot up from the bowl he had poured the flour in, to look at you dead in the eye. “Maybe if someone didn’t cancel on me last minute, I’d be really into SOMEONE right now.” Sinking back further into your bed, the chuckles you were trying to compress, became a full on laughter. “Ew gross!!”

“Yeah, me baking cookies alone is gross. I wonder whose fault that is” He was looking down and his fairly long black hair had fallen over his forehead but the amusement was visible in his dorky cocky pout. You couldn’t really take him seriously when he was being like that. A big smile was plastered on your face, as your eyes followed his every moment. “Cmonnn baby, it’s just one day.”

A throaty sigh left him as if he was trying to compose himself to keep his act up. “Love to see my girlfriend/boyfriend thinking a day spent with me is just ONE random day.” The emphasis he put on “one” seemed to make even him break his resume ‘cause you watched his chest rise and fall in silent laughter.

“How about you stop being a dork and tell me why isn’t your mom baking them, but you?” He looked up at you again. “How about you stop being an ungrateful gremlin and appreciate the fact that I’m doing this for my partner?” Both of you, just looked at each other’s eyes, no one blinking, seemingly having turned it into a competition, before you broke into a smile again. “Cutie.”

A heartfelt laugh he had been keeping in for so long finally made its way out, followed by a head shake. “I’ll see how witty that mouth is tomorrow, when you’re not kilometres away.” Something was clearly wrong with you, because your reply to his sexual remark was another laugh.

“You know what Y/N, pack it up and go back home. My parents were excited to meet you, but I don’t think they’ll be happy seeing their son with a mentally deranged lover.” You bit your lip, trying to remain serious, but it was impossible. He ignored you and kept working in silence for a few minutes, stealing glances at your dumb founded silly self and smiling to himself. That’s why he loved you is what he thought. You made everything a little bit more fun; you made everything a little bit more cheerful.

After calming down and getting over an awe struck moment of staring at your boyfriend, you finally spoke seriously, feeling gushy all of a sudden. “So, babe, are your parents really excited to see me?” He nodded. “I am too.” A faint blush creeped up your cheeks and you felt them burn, but you couldn’t let the chance slip away. “Yeah, too bad I’m packing it up and going home though.”

The last glimpse you got of him was that with a fed up smile. “I love you” he mouthed before hanging up.

♡ requests are closed!

[fgfluidity]

moonlight and birdsong (part two)

Summary:  The pianist and his songbird, and their growing relationship, told through a series of moments at a piano.

Pairing: Damien x DA

Warnings: fluffy enough to kill a man outright

wasn’t going to post this but i thought yall deserved it

this goes into a lot of headcanons about stuff so... be aware

The foyer of the Ego Manor has an upright piano.

It’s very old, and as the lid has remained firmly shut since even the earliest of egos moved in, it looks more like some kind of ineffective cabinet than an instrument.

It’s always dusted and polished, though, gleaming black wood and burnished silver.

No one plays and no one mentions it, and the piano bench only moves if, for some reason, someone’s feeling particularly daring.

Dark doesn’t like for it to be disturbed.

Even after they gain a new Production Assistant.

He’s never yelled at them, as far as the egos know. They’re subject to soft words, little kindnesses that he denies having been part of, the smallest of cracks in his stoic stares.

Everyone knows he’s softer around them, and no one really pays it much mind— after all, they all have that same soft spot. They just bring it out in people.

And one day, a rare and rainy day, the PA arrives, scampering up the walk with their jacket raised over their head. When Google opens the door— he’s always relegated to this task and it’s demeaning, he isn’t Bing— they rush in, spluttering.

“You’re dripping water,” he says, mildly displeased.

“Yeah, Google, I can see that,” they say, with a wry little laugh. With a sigh, they hang the jacket up beside the door, along a series of little hooks— most are bare. “It never rains here, so I don’t keep my umbrella at hand. I should’ve known.”

Odd. He usually understands them to be prepared. “I have r-radar capabilities, and forecasts,” he intones, shutting the door firmly to keep out the last bits of wind and moisture. “W-were you to allow me admin permissions—“

“No!” The PA shrinks back a bit, wincing. “Ah, no, Google, that’s fine. I’ll just be better prepared next time.”

They glance down at their shoes, and Google follows their gaze. Soaked and muddy, already marking the floor with streaks of brown. He twitches.

“I’ll just...” The PA looks around the foyer for a moment, then takes one, two, three muddy steps for the piano bench. ��Here, I’ll take them off and I promise I’ll clean up, okay? It’s the least I can do.”

Considering his disdain for household tasks, he supposes that’s only fair. “Please do. I h-have enough to do without a human... are you listening?”

They’ve already sat down, but their eyes are on the piano, itself, rather than their shoes. For all his knowledge of human expression— vast, with his database— it’s surprisingly difficult to parse: something similar to confusion, but also familiarity. Sadness.

It’s an odd expression that doesn’t match his knowledge of them. “Is s-something wrong?”

“You have a piano,” they say, voice just as distant as their eyes, looking at yet somehow through the instrument. “I’ve been here so many times and I’ve never seen it.”

“It has been there since before my arrival,” Google explains. “T-though it is not played, which explains y-your confusion.”

The PA hums, one hand slowly coming up to the lid and lifting it. Underneath, the ivory keys gleam, and their fingers carefully brush over each one. “It’s nice, though. It should be played.”

With his advanced sensory input, Google can hear the static screeching whine of Dark’s aura before it even begins to shimmer into the foyer. “Ah,” he begins, not nervous because he’s a machine and can’t be, “Remove your shoes. You’re s-still dripping.”

“Alright!” They look back at him, bewildered. “Did you have an update recently? I’m going.”

They don’t pull at their shoes quickly enough, though they likely wouldn’t have been able to without superhuman speed; Dark finally arrives, half in the shadows of the stairs. He’s smiling, as much as he ever does— an absurdly genuine lift to the corner of his mouth— and Google has categorized that exact expression as a PA’s Presence Smile, simply for the rarity of it.

He doesn’t believe Dark is aware of it.

It vanishes in a split second, though, the moment his eyes reach the PA on the bench. In its place, even more rare than the smile and infinitely more unexpected: pure, cold shock, eyes wide and haunted.

The PA startles at the sound of his aura, jumping in place with a freed shoe in their hands. “Ah, Dark!” They frown, a minor rise in body temperature proving their embarrassment. “You can walk in here, you know. I’ve seen it.”

Dark doesn’t react for some time. Really, he simply stares, something strange and sad and unprecedented in his expression.

It’s long enough that The PA’s annoyance switches to awkward concern, and they set the shoe down. “Are... are you alright?”

Dark’s eyes flick to the piano, then back to the PA. “The piano is open,” he says, quietly.

“Oh. Yeah, I just—“ The PA turns a bit to gesture towards the keys. “I was just saying it looks really nice. Who plays?”

If Google wasn’t a supercomputer, he wouldn’t catch the brief, terrible pain that crosses Dark’s face, because he very quickly schools his features into something close to a sneer. “No one,” he growls, rolling his neck. “It’s decorative. Hurry and clean up that mud or it’ll dry.”

The PA frowns. “Yeah. Got it.”

“I was talking to Google.” The aura stops buzzing so loudly, just for a moment before he warps away, and he says, “You’re a guest.”

An irritated sigh comes from the bench, and with a final tug, both of the PA’s shoes are off. “I don’t understand him,” they mutter, standing to pick their way back to the door, avoiding muddy spots. “Why is he like that? I ask a simple question and he’s hot and cold.”

He has an answer, but he doesn’t believe either the PA or Dark might appreciate it. “He can b-be difficult to u-un-understand,” he replies, carefully, which is also truthful. “He’s secretive about much, for whatever reasons. The optimal r-reaction is to leave him be.”

“No argument there,” The PA huffs. They look at the floor, hands on their hips. “Really, you can go. I’ll mop, he doesn’t need to know.”

(Somehow, he still knows.

It doesn’t end in a busted actuator or missing charge cable, though, so Google counts his blessings.) 

————

In the middle of the night, Dark stalks the halls.

It’s relaxing, in a way, to actually use his legs instead of warping from place to place. It reminds him of what it felt like to not be a Broken Thing, to have places to be and people to see with all the moments in between.

It’s strange, to miss inefficiency and interruptions.

Not that his current life doesn’t have its fair share of setbacks. The madhouse that is the manor is teeming with them.

Thankfully, it slows at night, when he prefers to do his walks, and he can get some thinking done while he can hear his own thoughts.

Unfortunately, one thought is irritatingly persistent, not to mention quietly terrifying.

The PA was at the piano.

His— their piano, from a century ago. They looked exactly the same on the bench, eyes bright and fingers gentle as they fiddled with the keys.

They said the exact same words the exact same way, and it hurt. 

Yes, he lashed out. Perhaps he shouldn’t have. Perhaps it was justified. Whatever the reason, for a moment, the DA was back, and he—

He couldn’t handle it. Why?

He doesn’t feel things, not the way Damien did. Everything is muted, trapped under an icy layer of vengeance and anger and distance; he doesn’t feel guilt, as such, nor much empathy, not for people so close to that snake.

He can pretend, of course, but it’s not the same. Even if it works out the same, in the end.

With them, though, there’s... something. Something not as angry and focused on revenge, not cool and calculated indifference. Perhaps it’s what’s left of Damien, of Celine— Damien’s affection, Celine’s passion— that makes him actually feel...

Not— not normal, again. But something closer than he’s been since that poker game. Close to happiness, close to affection, close to humor.

He feels like he cares beyond a pawn in his game with Mark. They’re a key to his victory, yes, but one he wants to keep, even after the game has been won.

He doesn’t know what to call it. It isn’t love, really— to call it such would be an insult to the depth of his previous self’s affections— but... something. A strange fondness, perhaps.

As his reverie draws to a conclusion, if not a very satisfying one, he finds himself before the piano. The lid is still up, keys glinting in the moonlight through the window, but it’s unharmed— as though the PA would ever be a quarter as destructive as anyone else in this damned mansion.

His fingers itch with the urge to play, and he takes a step back from the piano, frown deepening. He doesn’t like to play, hasn’t in a century, and his audience... isn’t here.

“Oh, Jesus fucking— Dark!”

He looks back over his shoulder at the racket. The presence he feels, alone, would identify them in a heartbeat— sun, fresh air, flowers, so it’s the PA— but old habits.

They’re dressed for sleep, one hand over their chest, a scowl forming on their face. “You scared the shit out of me,” they continue, quiet but harsh. “Why do you slink around like some kind of creep, huh?”

“A creep.” He almost laughs. “Rich, considering the company you keep. Is that why you’re here, instead? Have you grown tired of him?”

They huff, coming the rest of the way down. “It was late when I finished work— on your video, might I add. I was too tired to drive back, Host offered me a room. He’s... persuasive.”

Persuasive is a word. So is meddling. So is predatory. He can’t stop a sneer, though he turns away to hide it. “Well, I’m sure it’s all you’d hoped for, though nothing could measure up to that vehicle you sleep in. Why aren’t you there?”

“Sometimes I want a real bed,” they reply, bluntly. “The flat thing in there is more storage compartment than mattress. And sometimes I don’t want to sneak in around a recording schedule to use a bathroom or get food. Real food. Here? I can do anything.”

“Then why don’t you stay?”

The question is out before he realizes, hanging in the thick, heavy air. He hadn’t meant to say it— though he’d been thinking it from the start— and the silence it spurs is equally heavy.

“I—“ They cut themselves off, confused. “What do you mean? Stay?”

He turns, deliberately slow, to meet their eyes. “Stay here. Don’t go back to him.”

Immediately, they shake their head. “No, I can’t do that to him. He’s been good to me, he’s a friend.”

“A friend? Just how much has he dug his claws into you?” Dark paces towards them, aura beginning to bubble just under the surface. “I’m no expert, my dear, but a friend doesn’t keep you on a feeding schedule. A friend doesn’t make you stay in a van when he has plenty of room— or money to pay you so you can find your own room. A friend doesn’t withhold those keys from you if your leaving doesn’t suit his mood.

“I know what you are to him, and it isn’t a friend. It’s a pet,” he growls. “A snake with a cage, keeping a precious little songbird inside for a snack.”

Something in their face changes at that. Not hurt or indignation— those are already there, in great supply— but something thoughtful. Something familiar. “Songbird?” They mutter.

They can sing?

Like a songbird.

He grits his teeth at the memory. “What?”

“I... I feel like that’s familiar. Like someone called me that before.” More confused then before, they dare to take a step closer. “Why is you saying that familiar?”

He sniffs, attempting to quell a rising, strange sense of concern, of hope. They can’t remember anything. “If I’d said anything, it would have worked as well,” he dismisses. “A little mouse, perhaps. A hamster. Take your pick— it’s all the same.”

It doesn’t alleviate their distress, palpable in the air as they swing their arms out. “It isn’t,” they insist. “It isn’t, because songbird was something. And the room was something, because it was exactly— and the piano! I looked at it today, for the first time, but I knew it.

“Something’s happening today,” they continue, softer. “It’s like... it’s right there, I can almost reach it but I just can’t. Did you do this to me? You were acting weird—“

“I’ve done nothing to you,” he cuts them off, low and dangerous. “I know what he has to say about me. I know he’s turned you against me, convinced you that I aim to hurt you, but he’s the biggest liar of them all.”

Their brow furrows further, edging frustrated. “Is he? He’s been rather spot on with you.”

“Free reign of my home. Any comfort you desire. No need for permission. I don’t put you in a bigger, prettier cage and call you free— I set you free.” He composes himself, stands tall and collected. “It isn’t my fault you can’t see the coils around you, but the piano... I could help you with. Possibly.”

Quickly, their shoulders tense, expression going wary. “You’re going to help? You?”

“I’ve been known to help, on occasion.” He steps to the side, sweeping one arm back towards the piano. “And I do hate to see you suffer, my dear. Allow me to help.”

The wary distrust doesn’t fade, but the light of curiosity starts to join in. “What do you want?” they ask, quietly. “You wouldn’t do it for nothing. What’s your price?”

Dark finally smiles at that. No one ever said they weren’t smart, even without their memories. “I do appreciate your savvy,” he says, “as I would normally ask. You have so much that I’d be willing to take in exchange.

“However.” He moves to the piano, pulling out the bench to take a seat. “I’m feeling rather generous tonight. All I ask is that you indulge me— be my audience for a song.”

The PA’s eyes widen in disbelief, and they look between himself and the piano. “You? You, Dark, play the piano?”

It’s nearly the same— without the giddiness, the almost-teasing. It doesn’t feel right.

“Yes. I have— had,” he corrects, lifting the lid, “hobbies. Piano was one of many. Join me, come on— here at the bench.”

They don’t need further convincing, to his mild surprise. In the few seconds it takes him to assume the proper position, they cross over to stand next to him— a little brush of warmth at his side, radiating through the foot between them. “This, I need to hear,” they say. “You don’t... you don’t want me to sit, do you?”

The keys under his fingers alight blue, yes, yes, please, ringing in his ears; with some effort, he pushes it down. “Only if you’d like to,” he replies, smoothly. “I wouldn’t dream of making you uncomfortable with my requests.”

The PA hums, a quiet, considering little sound. “Let it be on my head,” they mutter, and then that warmth grows closer. With a quiet shuffle of fabric, they perch on the edge of the bench, as little weight settled down as possible. “So I can make sure it’s you doing it,” they explain, when his eyes cut their way. “It might be a player, and I’d like to know if it’s going to waste my time.”

“If you say so.” As if he’d ever let a player piano into his home. He may dislike the performance, but he’s able to play for himself, damn it. “Listen close.”

He starts to play a song. A familiar song, an old song, that wouldn’t be quite so popular, these days— it’s a song during a long, wild night, a request from the once-dearest of friends, his own skilled notes with the sweet, bright tones of his most beloved. If there’s anything still knocking around in their mind, if their reincarnation is still, ultimately, them and not some cheap copy—

They’re humming.

Not perfectly, as they cut out every now and then, and it isn’t singing, but...

It’s indistinguishable. It’s their voice.

During a less lyrical portion, he softly asks, “Do you know this song?”

“It sounds like I do.” Their voice is distant, thoughtful, and his brief glance proves that; they’re looking at and through the piano, brow furrowed in concentration. “Like I heard it a long time ago. Is it very old?”

He hums. “Over a century. It was popular then, but now... things fade, over time. Are forgotten. Are replaced. Isn’t it sad?”

“Yeah.” They shift, and he just feels something warm against his knee. “It— I feel like... this feels...”

Dark doesn’t speak, just plays and waits for them to gather their thoughts.

“Songs can go with memories. This song feels so important— like something happened during it, once. I should remember that, this thing that happened, but all I know is this, and not even well. It’s... frustrating,” they finish, with a sigh.

“I can imagine.” It’s frustrating for him, as well— his songbird so close to him, but so far away. “If it means anything to you, I hope you remember. May I ask— what does it feel like to you? Beyond important.”

For a few long seconds— until the end of the song— they remain silent. After the last notes start to trail away into the night air, they say, “It’s hard to explain. Good, mostly. Exciting, deliriously happy.” As he watches, one hand comes up to their chest. “Like being loved. So much that it hurts. Is that... is that right?”

Dark swallows, surprisingly thick and difficult. “Yes,” he admits, quietly. “As far as I remember, yes.”

They turn to face him, eyes searching. “Do you know who sang this?”

“I know someone who did. And someone who played for them as they sang.”

“What happened to them?” Their voice is little more than a whisper.

He bows his head. “Nothing good. They deserved better. A chance. But they didn’t have one.”

They go back to silence, and he joins them. What else is there to say, really? Mark took any chance they might have had and smashed it with one motion of his hand.

“If... if you played something else,” they begin, cautiously, “perhaps... I don’t know. Perhaps it will make more sense, that way.”

They surprise him more each day. “The cost remains the same,” he warns, though near-teasingly. “Be my audience?”

“Yeah.” And they smile, and it makes him feel lighter than he has in years, decades, nearly a century. “Woah, hey— I didn’t know you could do that!”

“Do what?”

“Change. Just, like, how you look. Maybe it’s your weird light, but...” They shake their head. “You look really different. Really... familiar.”

Dark looks down at his hands, only to find them shimmering cyan instead of gray static. If he looked in a mirror— he hates mirrors— would he see real, live Damien’s face looking back?

He feels like Damien, for once. Like he isn’t broken.

“I didn’t, either,” he admits. “But, let that not disrupt us. Shall we, my darling?”

A strange look passes over their face, half longing and half bemused, but it fades as quickly as it appeared. “We shall. What’s next?”

He plays until his fingers grow stiff, until the PA’s voice grows hoarse and fades. They don’t seem any closer to a breakthrough, but— for a night— they were together again.

And that... gives him a lot of hope, at long last.

(The noise was sure to have bothered the other residents, but they’re all suspiciously quiet about it come morning.)

[legendofzelda4life]

Look to the Stars

Sup everyone! It’s day 31 of me wasting yall’s time around 11:30pm everyday!

If you’re new here: I write Zelda/LU-themed one shots everyday until the LU AU is updated. I do take requests and more info about that will be left at the base of this post.

Today, we have some Vio and Wind platonic fluff. I have no clue how to use a sextant so bare with my dumbass.

Hope ya’ll enjoy!

----------------------------------

“Who’s fucking Hyrule are we in now!?!” Legend yelled as the group was transported onto a tiny island with a single statue, holding a green orb.

“Mine…” Wind trailed off, looking at the vast great sea before continuing, “a little ironic we landed on this island though.” He laughed, looking at the statue. The other eight boys turned to it. “Is that-” Time was cut off by Warriors. “Farore’s pearl?” Wind nodded without a word. 

“What’s that big tower?” Hyrule asked, keeping distance from the water. “Tower of the gods. I needed the three goddess pearls to open it and it’s the only way I was able to access Hyrule Castle.” The boy pondered for a bit before taking out his Pirates Charm.

“Tetra! Dude, I know you’re not asleep! Pick up!” Wind yelled into the stone. “Watch your language, you little fuck. Glad you’re back though, shit head, where in Valoo’s ass are you anyway?” Tetra asked. This was the first time the boys heard her voice and now Wind’s foul mouth is starting to make sense.

“Tower of the gods. I would say send your gramps but there’s nine of us.” “Nine?!?!” Tetra sighed. “As long as they don’t take my shit I’ll be okay with it.” Wind put the stone away after a few more words.

Not long after, Tetra had arrived. Once everybody had been introduced, they were all sent to do their own thing. Wind had walked down to the cabins where he would be staying with Four.

“Who’s in charge?” He asked walking into the room. “Vio.” Four- well Vio - replied. “Well it’s nighttime, wanna help me navigate?” The purple-eyed boy shot out of bed. “Yes!” He darted onto deck, leaving behind a confused Wind.

“Can I help with the stars?” He asked. Wind nodded. “So here’s the sextant, basically you want to-” “Line it up with the horizon and squeeze this…” Vio trailed off so Wind continued. “Until the north star lines up with the horizon…” Wind was shocked by Vio. Like sure, the hero knew his stuff but Wind didn’t think he’d ever been sailing before.

“How do you know this stuff?” Wind asked. “I used to use the stars to know when and where I was at nightime.” RIght, you can use these on land…

“So are you like… Four’s only braincell?” “The only one that can do it’s job.” Vio chuckled.

The pair spoke for hours and hours about navigation and the stars, sharing stories of their adventures.

As luck would have it, Wind’s Hyrule was the last one before everybody split up again.

“Don’t forget me, sailor.” Vio said, tears nearing his eyes. Four had split up a couple days ago and didn’t go back together yet. “I wont, just remember to always look at the stars.” Wind said, giving Vio the longest hug out of everyone, tears running down his cheeks.

Just look at the stars…

No doubt he’s watching the same ones…

END

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I don’t know shit about stars or navigation so this was difficult lmao.

I hope ya’ll enjoyed anyway!

LEAVE REQUESTS BELOW!

REQUESTS MUST INCLUDE:

PAIRING

TYPE/GENRE/CATEGORY (fluff, angst, etc)

PLATONIC OR NOT

I WILL WRITE ONLY ABOUT THE LINKS (including the ravio, shadow, the zeldas, and requested characters. Will not write about whole other fandoms though)

I CAN DO READER INSERTS IF REQUESTED (no oc’s tho)

CAN DO AN AU IF REQUESTED

[yyuangss-main]

❝six: the magician❞

“Control it Bakugo!” You ducked under his right arm, grabbing his wrist and his other too. You brought a leg up, kicking him in his gut. Bakugo’s body flew backwards, skidding across the floor. “Remember! Me giving you a quirk will be stronger than the original. That’s why we’re training so you won’t get backlash.” He growled, crawling up to his feet and sending an explosion your way. You put up a shield, keeping you standing while Bakugo once again flew back, this time into the wall.

“I don’t need any damn training! I know how my quirk works!” He slowly sat up, wincing at the pain in his back. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“My quirk. You don’t know how my quirk works.” You extended your hand out to him. Bakugo smacked it away, putting his hand where the pain came from. “Do you really think you’re ready to fight?” You squatted in front of him, reclining on your thighs. Bakugo snarled.

“Like I said.” Bakugo glared with his teeth gritted, “I don’t need training for something I know how to use.” You grunted, obviously tired of Bakugo’s egotistical manners that never left. From the day of the meeting, it’d been a week and three days of training for Bakugo.

“Kurapika, I think the best decision is option four. Ground Zero can be valuable on this mission.” You agreed with the Chain Hero, “I have one condition. Ground Zero must go under training with me.” Bakugo’s eyes widened, giving a look of betrayal. Kurapika hummed.

“Any particular reason why?” Kurapika now placed both of his hands on the table.

“Yes. When I give someone an ability, it will be two times stronger than an original. On top of that, he needs to work fighting alongside me. If he gets more than one hundred meters away from me the quirk will immediately drop and return back to me.” Kurapika nodded in approval. “Until I say he’s ready, we will not join you in fighting the Spiders.”

“But I don’t need any training!” Bakugo shouted. “I know how to work my own quirk!”

“Ground Zero.” Kurapika quickly reprimanded him. Bakugo’s mouth clamped shut, vibrating with anger. “If you don’t want to agree with these conditions you’re more than welcome to leave the case. Any others can leave the case too. Copycat, your conditions are accepted. Onto assign everyone else’s roles.”

“Are you even sure this is the right place?” Bakugo hissed, keeping his head away from the window opening. Word got to Kurapika that the Spiders were hiding in abandoned apartments but with an unknown city. He gave you updates on where everyone would go. Midoriya and Kaminari would check out Esuha City. Kirishima always patrolled Hosu. Kurapika never gave an update on his whereabouts though. “There’s nobody here.” You held a finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet.

You had talked with Kurapika earlier, him giving you a location for you to scout.

“As why we’re waiting! Izuku and Sero will soon join in the apartments across.” You leaned back in the corner. “The Troupe is smarter than to get themselves caught. It’ll be a miracle if we even see one of them.” You sighed, checking the wrist watch for any updates. It’d been three hours and seventeen minutes since you two arrived. Bakugo was persistent in scouting the place. You had faith in Kurapika.

Six hours. Midoriya and Sero arrived an hour ago. Scuffling over the dirt made Bakugo kick your leg. You both crawled to the window openings, peering carefully. You recognized both Troupe Members. Machi and Pakunoda. They came from the left while on the right came Shalnark and Feitan. You shot a look at Bakugo, one that read be quiet.

“I thought the Boss would send more.” Machi spoke, crossing her arms. Shalnark beamed a smile. How was he a part of the Troupe? He seemed too happy and nice for your liking.

“He did.” Feitan spoke. His words were spaced out. “The Boss sent other members. They will be on their way soon.”

“I think he sent six in total?” Shalnark placed his finger on his chin. “Either way, we’ll need to break out into groups again. Uvogin was seen by a hero coming out of our previous hideout. Boss sent him to Jaku.” You furrowed your brow. Jaku was where Kirishima and Kaminari were stationed.

“Any idea on who else is coming?” Pakunoda asked.

Shalnark pointed his head to his left. Machi’s nonchalant look caught onto what he was trying to say. Feitan’s head cocked to the right. And it grew silent. The four members stared at each other, making a sweat drop roll from the side of your head. Shalnark brought his hand to his chest.

Four fingers were held up. Your eyes widened. They knew.

“Hmm. New members?” A voice called out from behind you and Bakugo. You both turned around. Hisoka Morow. He leaned against the door frame. “Does the Boss want to up his numbers, or are you here to fight one of the seven?” Seven? As soon as the odd number left his mouth, a loud explosion from behind went off. You quickly glanced back to see the four Troupe members below darting in separate directions and Sero swinging out with Midoriya. The apartment building Midoriya and Sero were in came down, a usage of Midoriya’s quirk.

With Feitan, Shalnark, Machi, and Pakunoda fleeing, two more escaped from the falling building. Phinks and the man seen carrying a sword. Phinks escaped with ease, using the pile of rubble to land on. While the other examined his choices.

“I guess that settles it. I’m allowed to attack.” Hisoka spoke, giving a smirk. Bakugo charged at him, swinging his arm but it phased through Hisoka, leaving nothing but dust. “Silly me. I never caught your names.” Hisoka was on the window still now, dangling a leg and flipping a card. He used his right hand to keep him propped up. Bakugo let out a yell.

“Ground Zero no!” You said too late with Bakugo sending an explosion to Hisoka’s direction. Your quick reflexes brought up a shield around you. Falling debris attempted to break the protective dome. You searched to see Bakugo in the hallway trying to stand up. He was safe since the destruction was sent to the windows.

“Hm, Ground Zero?” Shocked at hearing Hisoka’s voice from behind you, the dome shut off. In a split second you were yanked to the side from any damage. An arm wrapped around your torso kept you pinned down with a sharp object at your neck. “May I have a thank you? Or perhaps your name in return?” Your eyes only went to Bakugo.

“What the hell are you… Still doing… Alive?” He staggered. Bakugo’s cheeks slowly brought back the red hue. Hisoka raised his eyebrows, a look of disinterest coveting it.

“Don’t move if you want her to live.” Hisoka said, making Bakugo use the doorway for support. The magician dragged you up, careful to not cut your throat. Bakugo’s struggles made Hisoka squint his eyes. “This is interesting. Very interesting indeed.” Hisoka’s free hand covered his mouth. Bakugo’s menacing stare arose when Hisoka began snickering.

“What’re you laughing at!” Bakugo slurred, plummeting on the ground again.

“Tell me, are you the hero who got his quirk stolen?” Hisoka removed his hand. The aura in the room became threatening. You softly gasped, mouth agape at Bakugo. He, in return, denied what was asked about him. “Really? A high fever and weak body reminds me of the work of someone I know.”

Bakugo’s frail limbs couldn’t support him. He laid face flat, eyelids becoming heavy and hard to keep open. You mentally cursed yourself. When you stopped the shield, you’d also stopped giving Bakugo his quirk. And if you gave it back now, Hisoka would figure out your powers.

“He won’t be waking up anytime soon.” Hisoka sighed. His eyes fluttered towards you, nearing the card closer. You squeezed your palms, coming up with solutions to escape. “One wrong move and you’ll bleed to death. Now, why don’t you answer the question?”

You licked your lips, staying silent. It felt like a paper cut and blood trickled down the side, more beginning to flood. The tension rose, almost making it hard for you to breathe. Hisoka exhaled, letting go of you. You fell to your knees, trying to stop your bleeding. Hisoka squatted in front of you, giving a bright smile.

“I’ll spare you for now. It’ll be a shame killing you before your prime.” He patted your head, standing back up and walking to the hole. He glanced over his shoulder, “By the way, good to meet you, Copycat.” Hisoka raised his hand, a pink line shooting from his pointer finger and hauling him away.

Your shaky hand withdrew from your wound. Blood was smear all over your palm. With the other, you activated a healing quirk and brought it back to your neck. You grunted, using your chin to call Kurapika from the watch.

“Kurapika it’s me.” You said instantly after he picked up, “The Spiders attacked us. Ground Zero is unconscious. Deku and Cellophane got away. I’m not sure where they’re at or if they’re safe.” Finally the healing was over.

“Bring Ground Zero to Dr. L. I’ll meet you there.”

“On it.” He hung up. You used a water quirk to clean the blood. Now the problem was to figure out a way to wake up Bakugo. You bit your thumbnail while checking his pulse. “How did he know?”

❝When a vicious gang called the Phantom Troupe takes away the quirk of Katsuki Bakugo, Ground Zero, heroes around do their best to protect him and ones in training. They call you in and give you four different options that give you four different outcomes.❞

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