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jockwrites · 5 months ago

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pillowtalk - p.b

warnings: smut, pet names, (baby, ma yk all that) idk what else tbh

a/n: i loved her in the dallas jersey i needed to make a fic abt it. also barely proof read lol

the dallas wings arena thrummed with the cheers of the crowd as your girlfriends final basket sank cleanly through the net, securing her team's victory. the blonde haired, blue eyed beauty grinned broadly as her teammates swarmed her, celebrating their hard fought win.

as the post-game pandemonium subsided, you navigated the bustling locker room, heart pounding with anticipation. paige, still in her sweat-soaked blue dallas wings jersey and shorts, was in finishing conversation with a reporter. seizing a window of opportunity, you approached, clearing your throat softly.

“paige, you did amazing,” you complimented, stepping up beside the blonde athlete as she wrapped up her interview. paige turned, blue eyes gleaming with unshed sweat and triumph, a wide, cocky grin spreading across her face. “glad you got to see it,”

paige excused herself from the lingering reporter and pulled you into a tight embrace, her strong arms wrapping around your waist. “i'm all sweaty, i'm so sorry,” she apologized while laughing, pulling back but keeping her hands on your hips. “that's okay, i don't mind,”

“i'll be right back,” she said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the locker room to change out of her uniform.

as paige changed, she couldn't stop thinking about you. she quickly shed her uniform, her hands trembling slightly as she removed each piece of clothing. she tossed her gear into her locker and grabbed a change of clothes, her mind racing with thoughts of you waiting outside.

she couldn’t wait to get you home, or to the car?

paige emerged from the locker room, dressed in a blue-ish black tracksuit, her blond hair damp from the shower. she scrubbed a towel over her buzzed head, her broad shoulders relaxed. “sorry 'bout that,” she said, flashing you a grin.

paige tossed the towel aside and sauntered over to you, her movements slightly different. she stopped a foot away, looking you up and down appreciatively. “you're a sight for sore eyes,” she said, her voice low and husky.

you chuckled and playfully rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. “what’s got you sore hmm?” you asked paige, smirking at the joke. paige laughed, her deep voice rumbling.

“nothing yet, but ima be sore in a minute if ion get you home,” paige said, her voice dropping an octave. her eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze as you giggled. her biceps flexed slightly as she uncrossed her arms.

paige licked her lips, her eyes still locked with yours. “you ready?” she asked, her voice a low, suggestive purr. she reached out and gently grasped your wrist, her calloused thumb brushing over your pulse point. “my car right outside…”

you laughed as she tugged gently on your wrist, urging you to leave with her. “c’mon, let's get out of here before i lose my patience entirely.”

paige led you out of the gym, her hand resting possessively on the small of your back as you walked towards the parking lot. once at her car, she hit the remote unlock button and opened the passenger door for you. “thank you,” you grinned.

you climbed into the car and pulled the seatbelt across yourself, watching as paige leaned in to make sure it was secure. “why d’we gotta leave so soon anyway?” you asked, tilting your head up to look at her.

paige raised an eyebrow as she straightened up, closing the door behind you. she leaned against the open window, her arms crossed over the door. “why you askin like you got sumn’ in mind?” she asked, her tone curious.

but i think she knows exactly what you wanna do.

paige smirked, leaning closer to the open window, her eyes glinting with mischief, “if you’re thinking what i’m thinking, once we start i ain't sure ill wanna stop.”

you grinned, leaning forward. “get in the car p. ‘m sure you don’t wanna keep waiting yeah?” your eyes filled with challenge and flirtation as you jerked your thumb towards the driver's seat. “clock’s ticking.”

paige slid into the driver's seat, her hand immediately finding your thigh as she leaned over. “you can't just say stuff like that and expect me to hold back," she growled, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss.

paige growled against your lips, her hands gripping your hips and lifting you clean out of the passenger seat. she deposited you on her lap, so you were straddling her. “come on baby, tell me what you wanna do.”

paige's hands slid up your sides, her thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through your shirt. her hips shifted beneath you, the hard press of her muscles against your backside. “i want you to fuck me in this car,” you whispered against her neck.

you placed your hands on her shoulders for support, biting your lip as you rocked your hips forward. paige's eyes darkened, her voice dropping to a husky growl. “like this?”

paige's hands slid around to grab your ass, squeezing and guiding your movements as you rocked against her. she captured your lips in another hungry kiss, biting at your bottom lip. “you feel so good,” you breathed. she panted against your mouth, her hips starting to roll up to meet yours.

you gasped as you felt the continuous heat building between the two of you, your bodies moving together with growing urgency. you tangled your fingers in her hair, tugging lightly. “fuck, p...” you dragged the nickname, voice thick with desire as you ground down harder against her.

“just like that,” she breathed, tilting her head back against the headrest. you moaned softly, burying your face in her neck as you continued to move against her. “god i’m gonna cum,” you whispered, your voice hitching as she slid one hand down between your thighs, pressing her palm against your core through your leggings, “paige...”

you whimpered, bucking against her touch. “paige please...” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. she looked at you, her eyes filled with lust. “please, what, ma?” she murmured, slowly rubbing her hand against you. “do you want more?”

you panted, squirming under her touch. “more... please, paige. i need...” you broke off, moaning softly as she slipped her hand under your waistband, her cool fingers brushing against your bare skin. “you need what, baby?”

you trembled, your hips rocking against her hand. “i need your fingers... inside. please...” you whispered urgently, your heart racing in your chest. paige smiled, her thumb rubbing gently against your clit as she pushed two fingers inside you. “like this?”

you gasped, your body arching into her touch. without hesitation, you started to ride her fingers, your movements desperate and needy. “fuck, paige... yesjustlikethat” you panted, words stringing together as your hands grip her shoulders for support. you chased your pleasure.

you rode her fingers furiously, your inner walls clenching around them as you sought relief. paige watched you, her own arousal growing at the sight of you losing control. she curled her fingers inside you, rubbing against that sensitive spot within you. “fuck, you're so tight, and wet...”

you slowly lowered yourself up & down onto her fingers, feeling them stretch you open as you took them in inch by inch. paige looked up at you, her eyes locked onto yours as she slowly curled her fingers inside you, gently massaging that spot deep inside. “look at me.”

you met her gaze, holding it as you began to rock your hips, slowly sliding up and down her fingers. paige watched you, her thumb rubbing gentle circles against your clit as you moved.

you slowly guided yourself down onto her fingers, gasping softly at the fullness. she watched your face intently, adjusting her pace to match yours. her thumb was a constant tease against your sensitive clit, while her two fingers moved rhythmically inside you. “does that feel good ma?”

your reply was an exaggerated nod, your mouth falling open as you continued to rock your hips, slowly guiding yourself up and down her fingers. paige continued her gentle, rhythmic movements, her thumb still teasing your clit as she murmured, “you like that?”

paige paused her fingers inside you, making you whimper and try to shift your hips downwards. “answer me,” she commanded, her voice low and insistent. “say it.” she prompted, her thumb still rubbing slow circles.

you bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you realized she wanted you to say it out loud. “fuck, i like it.” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper. paige chuckled, her fingers slowly curling inside you. “louder, baby.”

“i like it..” you whimpered louder, your body tensing around her fingers as she hit that spot deep inside again. “and what am i doing to you?” paige prompted, her fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. “speak up... am i fucking you right now?” she cooed.

her three fingers slowly pushed in and out of you, curling upwards to hit that spot deep inside that made you whimper and try to sit lower on her hand. Her thumb was a constant, soothing presence against your swollen clit. “am i?”

you let out a shuddering breath, your hips rocking down to take her fingers deeper. “fuck,” you whispered, your face buried in her neck. “you’re fucking me paige.” you added, your voice growing louder and more confident with each word.

her fingers slid in and out of you with deliberate slowness while her thumb maintained its steady pressure on your clit. She nipped at your neck, breathing heavily in your ear “that's right... tell me how it feels. my fingers... deep inside you?”

“fuck, paigeee,” you moaned her name as her fingers curled purposefully against your g-spot, pressing firmly while her thumb continued its measured pace on your clit. her other hand slid up to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple through the fabric of your shirt “you're getting wetter... can you feel it?”

her fingers moved faster now, plunging in and out of your dripping pussy. “fuck yes, god,” you moaned as her thumb pressed down hard on your clit, rubbing it in quick circles. the hand on your breast slipped under your shirt to palm your bare breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between her fingers.

her fingers curled inside you, pressing hard against your g-spot as her thumb rubbed your clit in fast, tight circles. she leaned in close, her hot breath against your ear. “cum for me, baby.”

she continued her relentless pace, her fingers moving in and out of you with a quick, steady rhythm. her thumb rubbed your clit in fast circles, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “cum on my fingers, now,” she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.

as soon as the words “god, paige i’m gonna fucking cum, please,” left your lips, she removed her thumb from your clit and curled her fingers deeper inside you, hitting your g-spot over and over as she allowed you to finally climax. your legs shook, your voice became hoarse as you begged.

your orgasm hit hard, your pussy clenching and unclenching around her fingers as you gushed all over them, cumming so hard your vision blurred. she held still, letting you ride out the waves of your pleasure as she watched your face, a satisfied smile on her lips.

then, she gestures to the backseat, eagerly pointing her thumb; this was gonna be fun.

a/n: i wanted to write scissoring but lost motivation and got writers block so ill save for another ok bye 😕

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wcbb #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige x reader #angst #paige bueckers angst #uconn huskies #smut #Spotify

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revelboo · 2 months ago

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Idk if you know this but wasps fucking. LOVE sugar and honey. Its what the adults usually eat iirc. Thats why Wasps usually go after bee hives (for multiple reasons, the bees become food for the larval wasps, its basically an all you can eat buffet, its also getting rid of competition, ect)

Anyways. All this to say: Waspinator finding the sugar/honey and being like "What. What is??? Smells weird, like antifreeze a bit. is it antifreeze?? (bc fun fact waaaay back in the day Antifreeze actually had a sweet taste that was super dangerous bc ppl would poison others with it so a bittering agent had to be added but like, i dont think that would be a thing for cybertronians so theyre used to mildly sweet antifreeze anyways-) Then he tastes it and is like OH FUCK YEAH LETS GOOOOOOO. But sadly sugar is SUPER BAD for vehicles like cars and stuff. So i imagine poor Waspinator goes on a sugar bender and then comes to like "Wha happun...." and hes aching and feels AWFUL, sprawled out in the barn, covered in christmas lights from someone else's house and SO much dirt and sand from like 6 different states and the human is just like "So. youre awake. Get up, i got the powerwasher. You're COVERED in dead bugs, youre not coming in my house."

Oh, I love this!

Worker Bee Pt 19

Waspinator x Reader

• Inhaling because you don’t have the energy to deal with his misguided ‘dating’ right now or even to try and figure out why he thinks that could ever work, you yank your hand out of his grip and he makes a noise of whining protest. But you can flex your fingers now even though they’re sore. Magic, alien bug spit. “Waspinator, sweetie. I have to report in to my boss and get some loan applications processed or I’m going to get fired.” And he’s just staring at you, head tilting. You’re pretty sure all he heard was ‘Waspinator blah blah blah.’ Right. “If I get fired I can’t afford food or my house.” That he’s pretty much trashed. “I’ll be homeless.” There’s a reaction, antenna back and wings buzzing. “You don’t want that, right?”

• “No,” he growls, wings humming and flaring out slightly. Because no one is taking little friend’s hive away. And you reach up and pat him on the cheek. ‘Great. So you just go watch cartoons, okay? And be quiet,’ you say, nudging him into the other room and he allows it, because you’re touching him voluntarily. Settling himself on the couch, he fidgets with the skinny control stick that makes the screen work like you’d shown him. Can hear you talking to someone else on the little screen he’s forbidden from touching. Why do you sound different talking to them? Venting in annoyance, he fidgets before slipping out of the hive to patrol. Too agitated at the idea of someone daring to try and take your home, his home.

• Somehow you manage to convince your boss that you’ve not been checking in because you’ve been deathly ill. Too ill to go to the doctor. At least, you pray he brought that lie. Catching up on loan applications, it’s a couple of hours before the quiet really registers. Maybe Waspinator is just being good. Watching cartoons. Teeth gritting, you can’t make yourself believe that. He’s got to be quietly destroying something. Or rooting up someone else’s azaleas to drag in your house to go with the other one. Dating. How are you going to explain to him that’s not happening?

• Roaming the property, his wings tuck close to his back against the cold. Heading through the trees surrounding your home, he moves in a widening spiral and vents softly when he leaves the trees and comes across a series of black boxes. That smell sweet. Circling one and toying with it, that scent is somewhat familiar. Sweet and cloying. Transforming he leans his upper body on the box and uses his mandibles to begin chewing through it to get to that delicious smell.

• Startling when you hear a boom, you inhale. Then there are several more in quick succession, you save your work and get up. Know the guy closest to you is a bit trigger happy, but if he’s shooting at skunks again and you have to smell a dead skunk for two weeks straight again, you’re going to- the house is quiet. Swearing, you run to get your boots and coat after realizing Waspinator isn’t in the house. Why would he go over there, though? The old man is coming out of the woods, face ruddy and wearing coveralls and slippers, a shotgun in his hands when you get outside into the snow. “Are you out of your mind?!” You scream at him, going with righteous indignation. And the old man hesitates but doesn’t lower the shotgun. ‘There’s a monster wasp. I saw it. Tore up my bee hives,’ he says, turning in a circle. “You’ve seen some whiskey. You even hear yourself? A monster wasp?” Feel bad as you say, trying to convince him he’s crazy to get him to leave. “Get the hell off my property before I call the cops!” And he’s scowling at you, insisting he saw it as you dig out your phone in threat and he starts moving. How much are bee hives? Because you’re going to owe him. Waiting until you’re sure he’s long gone, you head into the barn.

• Groaning and shivering uncontrollably, his head lifts when the hay he’d burrowed into is dug away from him. And his little friend has come to see him, eyes narrowed. “Waspinator’s frieeeend,” he drawls, feeling absolutely awful and jittery as he snares you with two limbs and drags you into the hay with him, curling his altmode around you, limbs grabbing on as you wriggle, screeching that’s he’s sticky. Very, very sticky. And feeling not quite overenergized, but close. Processor miserably buzzing as he rests his head on top of yours and curls tighter around your warmth.

• “Let go!” He’s back in his awful giant wasp form and he’s curling up like wasps do when they die. Is he dying? And he’s forcing you into a ball, legs drawn up to your chest as his thorax curls up. He’s humming now. Is he singing? Wait. Is he drunk? Arms now pinned to your chest, you can feel whatever he’s absolutely covered in sticking to you, too. Beehives. It’s honey. He’s covered in honey and dead bugs. And you are, too now. Why? Why is he like this? Legs shifting against you as he slurs ‘Waspinator’s little warm friiiiend.’ Wondering how long it’ll take him to sober up right as he makes a funny hitching noise and you’re thrashing to get away when he shudders and does it again. “Don’t you dare throw up honey on me-Waspinator! Don’t you dare!”

#transformers x reader #waspinator x reader #Waspinator

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blue-jisungs · 1 year ago

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making up with them after a fight ♡

author's note. minho’s one is so relatable to me i hate it sm :(( like idk sometimes i don’t wanna be touched but i have struggles wording it out and im afraid ill hurt someone w my reaction… <\\3 sigh… yeah, can u tell it’s self indulgent?

warnings. yn falls asleep in a bathtub,, pls dont do that!!!, cursing, lmk if i missed anything

this is a continuation to fighting with them!!

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

you woke up in your and chris’ bed, which made your stomach turn. he must have brought you here.

suddenly sitting up, you noticed your boyfriend is absent. did he leave…?

jumping out of the bed you rushed to living room and were relieved to see him in the kitchen.

however, guilt washed over you upon seeing him so… lifeless, hurt.

“hi” you whispered, clutching your shirt. chan looked at you and smiled softly, nodding his head.

“morning. there’s some coffee for you, breakfast will be done in a few minutes” he hummed and returned his gaze to the pan.

“chan, listen… i’m sorry i snapped at you yesterday. yes, i was tired but…” you hesitated, voice cracking “that’s not an excuse, really”

“i’m just worried, y/n” he said and his features softened.

“i know, i know” you hung your head low, afraid that tears will escape any second “it’s just… work has been shit lately and it’s draining me emotionally and physically… and i just…”

“hey, hey. it’s okay. i understand it. that’s why i’m here, right? to help you. but to help you, i need to know first” chan walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you. this warm, secure hug made you feel at ease “but i won’t be able to know if we don’t talk”

“i know… i’m so, so sorry. for snapping and for acting like an asshole… i’m sorry channie” you cried, pouring your heart out.

“i forgive you, y/n. i already did. let’s just treat this as a lesson, okay?” chan soothed you gently “let it out, baby. i’m here”

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

you and minho became distant. you began touching and kissing him less, head overflowing with worries each time when physical contact involved. eventually, you stopped. you just greeted him in the morning or after work.

and minho hated this.

he knew it was his fault because he snapped you. and if he didn’t do anything about it, your relationship might be on a thread... if it wasn't already.

so one day, when you woke up… you felt a soft kiss being pressed to your arm. you smiled gently to yourself, trying to remain calm. what is he scheming…?

"y/nnie… i’m sorry"

you turned around, frowning. lino’s eyes softened but there was a glint of sadness in them.

"i snapped at you when i had a bad day already. and… it was one of those days when i just don’t want to be touched, even by you. it- it sounds so idiotic but i promise you, it’s not your fault…" minho started and you bit your lip. your hands ached to cup his face and– "i can see you’re thinking about it. it’s fine, i’m fine. no, actually i’m not. i missed your touch and kisses so so much. and i feel like an idiot because i’ve brought it on me but above all…”

he hesitated and tapped your finger. you nodded, granting him permission to hold you. in an instant, he shuffled closer and wrapped his arms tightly around you.

"i’m sorry i made you feel like that. i can’t even imagine how you must have felt, thinking if ill snap at you today too… im so… fucking… sorry… " minho’s voice broke off and you felt his body shiver.

"it’s okay, min. i forgive you, don’t feel guilty. just tell me next time, okay? i understand that on some days you’re feeling like you don’t want to be touched, i respect that" you hummed into his skin, drawing shapes "just tell me"

"i will" minho smiled softly, heart warming because of your words, kindness, and touch.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

with a shaking hand you dialed changbin’s number, looking at the droplets falling in front of you. he picked up instantly.

"hello, baby?" he asked, concern in his voice. you took a deep breath, trying to control your breaking voice slightly at least.

"you… um, you were right…" you mumbled, sniffling.

silence fell and you were expecting an 'i told you so' or 'see?' but none of that happened.

"i’m sorry, pretty. i swear, next time i see them somewhere i’ll talk to them. i’ll pick you up, hm?" changbin asked and even though you knew he didn’t see, you nodded. your heart felt light that you didn’t fight again.

"i… um, i’m sorry. for being so defensive about them but… i was in the wrong…" a soft sigh left your lips and you heard a loud 'yah!' causing you to move your phone away for a bit.

"don’t apologize. i’m the one who should say sorry, truly. i just didn’t want you to get hurt again but… i took it to far, i said some messed up shit. sorry" chanbin’s voice was gentle and then suddenly you heard a honk. eyes widening, you saw his car "also i may or may not have already been waiting here…"

"dumbass” you scoffed, wiping your tears and going to his car with a smile.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

hyunjin entered the house, frowning upon the silence. your shoes were on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink, some miscellaneous items scattered around the living room.

"y/n?" he called out. no answer.

you weren’t in the bedroom either. hyunjin, growing anxious, opened the bathroom door.

he saw you sleeping in the tub, head almost barely above the water.

"yah, dumbass!" he yelped and dragged you a bit up, safe enough but still in the water. your eyes opened lazily, gaze unfocused.

"huh?" you blinked at him and saw genuine worry on his face.

"you fell asleep in the tub, y/n. i got so scared" he sighed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. he noticed your eye bags and it hit him like a truck: sure, dancing is his profession and he gets tired. but you, as a cleaning lady move as much as him and have to deal with other - usually assholes - people. you must be exhausted, even more than him.

then his gaze shifted to various scratches and bruises on your arms. you noticed it and smiled softly.

"it’s nothing, you know how clumsy i am. today i knocked over a broom and it hit my arm… it was kinda funny actually" you grinned but only saw sadness behind his eyes "hyune?"

"i… the thing i said the other day… i don’t mean it. i don’t think you’re just a cleaning lady, i shouldn’t say anything like this. and, it’s a bit stupid, but i realized just now… that at the end of the day, you’re probably as tired as me" he mumbled, voice small. you nodded, grabbing his hand.

"i won’t lie, what you said hurt me. but… i get it, you were tired and i got on your nerves–" you started.

"but i shouldn’t have bursted like that. let me take care of you now, hm? do you want me to wash your hair?" hyunjin asked, a cute smile finally blooming on his lips. you nodded energetically, causing him to giggle and place a tender kiss atop your head before proceeding to wash your hair.

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

when he left the party, glad to finally be out… someone grabbed his arm. he turned around and saw beomgyu.

"what?" jisung grunted, looking at the stranger.

"dude, i don’t know what’s your problem but me and y/n were literally talking about you" beomgyu said, letting go of his arm "besides, i’m taken"

jisung wanted to snarl 'so what?' but the sudden reality hit him: he threw a tantrum like a spoiled brat and almost went home without you. beomgyu scanned his face suspiciously, seeing the gears turn in jisung’s head.

"y/n loves you, i can see it in the way her face lits up when she speaks about you" beomgyu said and shrugged, adding before leaving "thought i’d just let you know"

jisung went back, looking for you. it turned out you stayed outside, gazing into the sky.

"um, hi" he mumbled, sitting down next to you. you didn’t reply "i’m… sorry"

"that was fast" you teased, bitterness shining through your voice.

"beomgyu walked up to me. i acted like an idiot, i know. i was just… jealous, i guess" jisung murmured almost incoherently, shy about his feelings. you turned around and sent him a sky smirk.

"you were what?"

jisung rolled his eyes playfully.

"i was jealous, are you happy?" he repeated louder.

"it’s fine. just… don’t yell at me. and let me finish, for god’s sake. if you listened what i had to say, you’d know that we were discussing which guitar i should buy you as a gift" you explained and saw his eyes widen. you couldn’t possibly stay mad any longer at this boba-eyed quokka.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

there was a doorbell echoing through the living room and you sent your friend a puzzled look. she shrugged and went to open the door.

"oh… y/n, it’s felix" she turned around and sent you a pitiful look. you just sighed, nodding. she let him in, scanning him head to toe threateningly, and left to her bedroom to give you some privacy.

"how did you know i’m here?" you asked, eyes avoiding his.

"(friend name) added a picture to the story that you’re here… so… um… i grabbed those and flew"

finally looking up, you noticed the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. felix handed you them and sat down next to you on the couch, hesitantly tapping his fingers on his thigh. he wanted to hold your hand but wasn’t sure if you wanted to right now.

"i’m a bad boyfriend, aren’t i? even seungmin knew you were fired" he sighed with a sad smile "i’m so sorry. there’s nothing that could… be an excuse"

you took his hand in yours, humming in thought.

"will you work on it? i missed you. i know work is busy but at least talk to me, eat breakfasts with me… if we don’t work it out, i’m afraid–" your voice broke, not even wanting to say those words.

felix hugged you tightly, holding you as close as possible.

"i know. i will work on it, i promise. i’ll try to clear my schedule and we can go on a trip to jeju maybe?" he mumbled into your shoulder.

he just got a last chance and he wasn’t going to blow it.

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

returning home after three days, you entered the house only to see seungmin sleeping on the couch. the place was neatly cleaned, not even a single dirty spot in sight.

"oh, you’re back" seungmin murmured drowsily, leaning on his elbows "how was the stay?"

"good. why are you sleeping in the couch?" you asked, walking up to the fridge to put in the food your mom gave you. to your surprise, it was full with fresh groceries.

"i… uh, couldn’t really sleep well without you. i also have a thought about what i said and… listen, y/n, i’m sorry" he said "i really like your parents, i really do. i was just tired and… i don’t know what it’s like, that’s true. i didn’t consider your and their feelings… and i just hope your parents don’t hate me now because i’ll cry"

"i think they love you more than me at this point, my mom kept asking about you" you smiled softly, relieved to hear that you made wrong assumptions.

"just tell me a bit earlier if we’re going next time, okay?" he asked and you nodded with a happy grin "besides, it was lonely here without you"

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

"dude, what the fuck?" changbin asked, standing frozen. jeongin frowned "you were supposed to text eunjeong only to get the info about the cake, nothing more!"

that was true – they wanted to make you a surprise party because you passed your exams and eunjeong works in one of the best bakeries in the town, so they figured it’d be the best to text her.

"i got distracted… i didn’t know y/n would make such a fuss out of it" jeongin grunted and opened his phone to see your location on 'my friends'. he bit his lip, sudden realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. if he found out you were texting your ex… he wouldn’t be pleased about it either.

"what are you waiting for? go after her! and don’t spoil the surprise, too!" changbin pushed him out of the dorm.

in no time jeongin caught up with you, grabbing your hand. you turned around, wet stains on your cheeks. he felt a sharp sting in his heart upon realizing it’s his fault.

"listen… i didn’t mean any of that. but i need you to trust me" jeongin said, squeezing your hand. you hesitated.

"why? i trust you i just… don’t trust her" you mumbled, wiping your cheek.

"i know, i’m sorry. you’ll see soon, okay? can you forgive me? i love you so much, i just didn’t think it would hurt you that way" he added shyly. nodding softly, you tightened your lips into a line.

"okay…" you hummed.

hopefully the cake will be delicious enough to regain at least a piece of your trust.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

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swetblom · 2 months ago

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LOVED UR RECENT BRIAN ONE, ill literally take any more you could do, I'm so despereate LOL, maybe u could do one where he gets jelly or something idk? anyway love ur work mwah!!!

᧔•᧓ jealous! brian, ( ﹢ brian & his angel ) ݁ ⊹ 𓈒 OHMYG ⠀ THANK YOU SOO MUCH! i think we’re all desperate and of ⠀ course, already had a little idea in mind! mwah!

the both of you had decided to have dinner at his apartment tonight and, as always, he was cooking. the lights in his apartment were dim as you sat at the island, watching his back muscles fix with each rotation of the spoon in the pot. it’s almost like he feels you staring, because just as you’re about to sink deeper into your daydream, he turns with a soft grin and asks, “want a sample?”

you don’t hesitate to get off the stool, eager if it meant you were closer to him. he spoons up a bit of pasta, blows it gently so he doesn’t burn your mouth, then feeds it to you. you nod as you savor it, “its good.”

he takes a bite himself, and his face turns up in concentration. “feel like it’s missing something sweet.” you frown, confused. it tastes fine to you. but when he looks at you with a playful expression, your demeanor instantly mirror his. “hm, maybe i should throw you in!”

the two of you laugh as he pulls you into his side to kiss your lips. short, ‘i missed you’ kisses are quick to turn into open mouth ones—until he pulls away suddenly. “don’t want it to burn,” he whispers, his breath still warm against your lips. your pout doesn’t go unnoticed and he even goes as far as to mirror it playfully, making you smile before pulling away from you entirely to lower the heat.

for a moment, he takes a minute to speak again, still savoring the taste of you on his lips. then, finally, “how was your day?”

“hm, same as any but i noticed the guy that i was talking to you about hasn’t been there for some days.”

brian doesn’t react immediately. he takes his time, like he’s letting the words settle. then, ever so casually, his movements become slow, he exhales, and speaks. “people should really learn boundaries, huh?” his focus stays on the warm pot, but you aren’t sure if he’s actually thinking about it at all. his voice is smooth, light—almost amused. too amused.

his face is still relaxed, but his lips slightly part and you see his jaw go sharp for a moment before it releases. you don’t think much of it—not at first. but then his dark eyes flicker to yours, studying your reaction. just for a second. like he’s waiting.

his gaze is unreadable, neither shocked nor concerned, like the words are just words to him. the silence stretches just long enough to feel off. and then, in an instant, it’s gone. not being able to stand seeing his angel’s face clouded with worry, his expression softens, his lips curling into that cute, disarming smile—the one that makes her forget every bad thought before it even fully forms.

he quick to reach for you. “don’t look so worried, angel,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers under your chin. “I’m right here.” you lean into his touch without much thought at all because you trusts him. you always does.

#૮꒰っ⸝⸝ . ⸝⸝⊂꒱ brian! ˖ ‌ ೀ ݁ ⋆#꠨ ׁ ᅠ 𐔌‌ ꪆ ang‌ິel! reader ⊹ ࣪ ₊#brian moser x female reader #brian moser smut #dexter brian moser #brian moser #brian moser au #brian moser x reader

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nmakii · 1 year ago

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‘Can I ask you to do something about Alastor×reader? About y/n being a modern girl (2023-2024), and she often has strange gestures or words towards Alastor. One time she talked to him in modern language, making him confused and very curious. (You can expand the situation as you like, sorry my English is not very good)’

NEW IS ALWAYS BETTER!

— alastor x modern!reader (platonic or romantic!)

— alastor calls reader “good girl” so mostly fem!coded

— I WROTE THIS AND THEN IT GOT DELETED I MIGHT KMS.

alastor gets slangs that are common such as LOL, WTF, IDK but doesn’t get some that aren’t as common like LMFAO, IDRC, or WTAF since they’re just making them longer, so it’s quite useless…

he also doesn’t quite get shortcuts for words. one time you left him a note “lol brb rq imma b back in like 20 min. j gon pick smt up” most of it was honestly gibberish to him, but at the very least, he understood you’ll be back in 20 minutes.

gets really angry when you say things like “stop reaching, gooner. you’re just pissed that you’re a beta.” because; one, you’re blatantly disrespecting the radio demon and telling him to shut up. and two, he doesn’t get what any of that meant. what’s a gooner?

also gets annoyed often when you start singing songs like “i’m the alpha, i’m the leader” or “sticking out your gyatt for the rizzler” because, it’s a reflection on modern society and how music quality in modern times have plummeted significantly.

what happened to those beautiful songs such as “the man i love”? has it been replaced by this rizzler nonsense??? honestly, you’re giving alastor more and more reasons to dislike modernity… you’re lucky he finds your company enjoyable

in a desperate attempt to connect with you, he asked angel about your humor, hoping he’d understand. alastor knows that if anything, velvette would know. but, he’d rather get beaten by lucifer than ask the vees for help…

sadly for him, angel is just as confused. although, he at least knew what this alpha bullshit was, vaguely explaining furries and the alpha-beta-omegaverse to him…

you were in the hotel den, scrolling on social media as alastor walked in. “s/o, be a dear and fetch me some chicken breasts from the butcher, would you? i’d like to prepare something for tonight’s dinner.” alastor smiled

“hmm… nah. go do it yourself, furry” you giggled brattishly. “hahah… what did you call me?” alastor asked sternly, his face now close with yours, antlers increasing only slightly in size. “ah…” you stuttered.

alastor was never this mad when you said stuff like that, what was so different today? maybe he was in a bad mood? “ah… ill get it…” you conceded, using your hands to lightly push alastor away, lest he decides you’ll be for dinner…………

alastor snickered before patting you on the head. “good girl. don’t call me that again, this old dog can still learn new tricks, y’know?” he teasingly sang out. “huh?” you asked. “did you learn what a furry is?” you bit your lip, holding back your laughter.

“indeed, i did. horrifying that you’d think i would indulge in such hobbies…” he sighed, looking a little uncomfortable through his stressed smile. “what..? i don’t think you’re a furry, alastor. it’s not that deep. furry is just something that i used to laugh about with my friends back on earth.” you shallowly laughed, copying his actions by rubbing his hair.

he has to admit, that little mistranslation was a little funny looking back on it. but, he is a little disheartened that he got you scared over nothing. you were just having your fun and he got all pissed off. he’d definitely try to instead ask you about your slang as to prevent such a thing again…

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hasbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin hotel

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thisfanisgonesorry · 2 years ago

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groupie love — hobie brown

guitarists dont get as many groupies as you’d think they do. 😮

tags: smut, vaginal sex, mirror sex, hairpulling, hookups go crazy, dom/sub, teasing/praise kink obv, creampie bc i forgot the condom at home, brief cockwarming. bro is a lovesick idiot fr. possessive as HELL. porn w feelings kinda? infatuation? idk theres feelings! im mentally ill! pussy so good that hes down bad! consent is sexy tho.. parasocial relationships arent

(but it’s so hard sometimes with the star when you have to share him with everybody; and i know what you’re thinking of, you want my groupie love)

🕸️

One thing led to another and he was leading me through the backstage entryway, his arm draped over my shoulder as he walked with a pep in his step, filled with adrenaline and trying to get it out of his system in ways that didn’t end in him pouncing on me. (Though admittedly, that’d be short lived.)

Backstage was mostly empty besides a few select crewmates who overall didn’t seem too phased by my presence. Hobie greeted them as he walked past, as if he knew each one personally. The rest of the band had seemingly dipped, and weren’t too worried about Hobie being missing from wherever they’d gone to hang out.

“Li’l lady wants to check out the green room.” He winked at one of the crew as he continued, dismissing them to give us space. The green room was nice but it wasn’t his destination in mind. He stood there for a minute, looking down at me briefly, before spinning dramatically and pushing his back against the dressing room door, sliding in and pressing me against the wall in a fairly smooth action.

“Don’t think anyone saw that?” I muttered out quickly, it was more of a question as I really didn’t see much from the spin itself, caught a little off guard by the sudden movement and unable to process much until I was pinned firmly against the wall. The dressing room was small, and he took advantage of the fact.

“M’hm, no.” He shook his head, leaning in slightly. “Nah, y’re all mine.” He continued.

His hands lingered on my waist, his fingertips reaching under the fabric and restraining himself as much as he could as he felt the soft skin underneath.

“You seem energised.” I laughed softly.

“I’m fine, jus’ got my blood pumping. Was a good show. Can I kiss you?” He spoke quickly to the point where if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it. There was a short moment of silence where the air hung heavy as he waited, oh, how he waited so very patiently.

“... Yeah.” I nodded.

His patience ran thin, and his lips harshly made contact with mine, almost pushing my head into the wall. What a way to get a concussion. He groaned into it for a moment, enjoying the taste and licking my bottom lip slightly. My hands loosely hung around his neck,

“Bloody ‘ell...” He muttered, pulling away and going down my neck. His free hand reached to the door, locking it before anyone could walk in. He was kissing and licking my neck, letting small bitemarks dance across the skin.

He began tugging at the hem of my shirt anxiously, wanting to just strip me bare, bend me over, fuck my brains out, but all in due time.

“Doors soundproof.” He commented. “Let me—”

One arm was wrapped around his shoulders, grabbing a fistful of the leather jacket and tugging on it to beckon him forward as the other grabbed his hand, pushing it closer. In hindsight, it was kind of sweet how certain he was letting things be.

He quickly removed my shirt that had his own band’s logo on it, throwing it to the floor and fumbling on the bra, running his large palms over the fabric. I leaned forward to kiss him again and his hands dropped to my hips, hastily (and harshly) dragging me to the dressing table, pushing me up against it.

Our lips were reconnected once again, though the kisses were messy. My arm was still around his neck, my other on his chest. His hands began to slightly shimmy down my shorts and he moaned into the kiss. “S’pretty, darlin’, so..” He mumbled breathlessly, pulling away enough to let me kick off the shorts (albeit, struggling to because of my boots) and for him to shrug off his jacket. Both articles disappeared somewhere into the room to be determined later.

My hands lingered to his hips, reaching up and feeling his toned abs from under his shirt. “Y’so hot, Hobie.” I moaned back, feeling the way his stomach tensed under my fingertips.

“What? like ‘m not meant t’be fit?” He tried to joke as he palmed my tits again.

“Didn’t mean it like that.”

He only responded with a laugh, kissing my neck and collarbone as he removed the bra, thrown to the side and his hands explored downwards in an attempt to remove the last of clothing.

“This aint fair.” I breathed, seeing him still fully dressed.

“Yeh, I know.” He responded, taking his shirt off, another piece lost to the room.

He ended up turning the light off, so the only light in the room was the one radiating from the mirror itself. He looked good like this but I guess that was the point. His face was flushed, it would be hard to tell otherwise if it wasn’t for the heat that it was giving off, you could literally feel it from across the room; his eyes were hyper focused and his lips were swollen slightly.

He leaned forward to kiss me again. “Y’re so beautiful.” He groaned.

“I was about to say the same thing.”

I reached down boldly, my fingers twitching to unbutton his jeans, to pull the zip down, to—

“Y’re gonna hurt y’self.” He joked, swatting my shaking hands away. “Touch yourself f’me.” He asked softly, trying to speak clearly despite his otherwise dishevelled behaviour.

I slid my fingers between my legs, toying with him as he watched between kisses.

“C’mon, darl’.” He purred sweetly. “Work y’self open f’me, please?”

He swallows the moans that leave my mouth as I push my fingers inside, weakly thrusting as he continues to kiss me, hovering over me as he palms his hardness through his jeans.

“Hobie, c’mon.” I groaned, getting impatient with him. All he wanted to do was toy and tease me; holding me closely as his eyes scanned my naked body like a piece of meat, kissing as much of the flesh as he could, longing for the taste and feel under his lips.

“Alr’, alr’.” He drawled finally.

He pulled away enough to create distance between us, we both stood in anticipation, catching our breath slightly as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zip. The jeans themselves were grungy, and his dick freed itself from the tight confines as quickly as it could, shimmying the jeans down to his thighs.

“No underwear? Anarchist goes commando?” I asked breathlessly as I continued to work myself, yet finding humour in comparing him to a militia.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Y/n. Don’t.” He warned.

“You go pantless just in case some pretty girl would fuck you tonight?”

I poked my tongue out between my teeth, biting down on it slightly, wanting nothing more than to be testing my luck with him. He grabbed my wrists, removing my hand from my insides and holding the sticky, shiny fingers up. It looked filthy in the bright light, he tutted slightly before licking the fingers clean, grinding his hard cock against the slick folds.

He held both my wrists in place, making it impossible for me to fight him with the movement of his hips, he was careful that he wouldn’t accidentally push himself into me, whether or not that accident was with his own free will or not. He was enjoying this, the torturous nature of it all. Yeah, definitely don’t talk back to him.

“Feels s’good like this.” He tried to speak clearly; “Could jus’ fuck you like this, yeah? Cum all over y’r cunt, don’t even go in?”

“I’m sorry.” I quickly spoke when I realised he could just stay like this.

“You’re sorry?”

“Please, Hobie, fuck me real good. I’m sorry, didn’t mean it.” I pleaded, though he could tell the words were only half hearted.

He tried to laugh but it got swallowed into a groan. He threw his head back and released my wrists. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon.” He spoke, finding amusement in it. He hissed slightly at the loss of contact as he turned me around to look in the mirror, bending me over the dressing table.

His breathing quickened as he admired the view of me bent over the table, elbows supporting my weight and my pretty eyes looking up at him through the mirror. He swallowed thickly, still grinding lazily against the wetness as he tried to shimmy his pants down further, they got about a little past his knees before getting snagged on his boots and he realised that it wouldn’t go much further than that.

“Ngh.. Fuck, y’so good.” He struggled out, a low moan erupting from his throat. “Gettin’ m’cock all nice ‘n’wet.”

“Hobie, I’m sorry.” I threw my head forward, not wanting to look at our reflections. “Fuck me, please, want you.”

“I know.” He groaned as he aligned himself. He gave a harsh tug on my hair, forcibly making me look in the mirror. “Look. Watch.” He panted.

He slid his thickness deep inside in one slow, stuttery motion. I watched carefully, my mouth fell open and my eyes threatened to close. His eyebrows knitted together and his mouth mimicked mine, falling agape.

“Oh my fucking god.” I moaned out, unable to hold my head up but quickly felt the tug on my hair as he held my limp neck in position.

He buried himself completely, “Look at how I’m stretchin’ you out, y/n, my darlin’.” He grinned lopsidedly.

He began thrusting slowly, watching the faces that I made, his eyebrows stayed knitted like he was focused on my expressions and nothing else.

“So good, Hobie.” I muttered, my head threatening to dip forward if it wasn’t for his grip on my hair. I tried to squirm away from him and his grip on my hip got tighter. “So big.”

“Yeah?” He spoke condescendingly, relishing at the way I felt around him. “Y’ve been dreamin’ about this, haven’t ya’?”

“Mhm, all the time.” I moaned quietly. “Fantasise about y’so bad.”

“I bet’cha always wondered how good I’d feel buried deep in y’cunt.” He commented, picking up his pace as he felt the warmth swallow him perfectly; it wasn’t necessarily rough or fast, but the size of his cock as it nestled all the way in was almost too much. Almost. “The real things s’much better, ain’t it?”

“Ah! Yes!” I cried, reaching back to push at his hips.

“Takin’ me s’well, darlin’.” He groaned, not letting up. He wasn’t being relentless but the position and the harsh pound of his cock was all too much at once, I closed my eyes tight and he fought the urge to give another harsh tug on my hair.

“S’deep, Hobes, baby—” I groaned, though it was immediately followed by pathetic whines which completely diminished the point I was trying to make.

“Why y’pushin’ at me, sweet thing? What’s wrong?” He teased, knowing damn well that there wasn’t the faintest of an issue.

“So deep.. So big. Slow down.”

“What? Y’don’t think y’can take it?” He joked through slurred speech, giving a particularly harsh thrust.

“Mhm!” I jerked forward with a whine, then feeling the harsh tug on my hair as my body pulled away from his tight grip.

“I think y’can take it jus’ fine.” He continued teasing, still desperately nudging my insides. “M’pricks too big f’you, ain’t it, darlin’?”

I shook my head weakly, keeping my eyes glued on his face as he fucked me from behind. “No, mhm— I can take it.” I struggled out.

“Y’doin’ s’good.” He slurred with a groan.

The audible wet sounds began to fill the dressing room and I could do nothing but let out a pathetic whine as I could feel the sticky liquid make a mess on both our thighs. The slickness was making it easier for him to slide in and out, using it to his advantage to fuck into me even harder. It did nothing to ease the slight slapping sound, and if that door wasn’t soundproof like Hobie claimed, we were probably being louder than the show itself was.

I shook my head weakly, jerking forward at his movements and taking whatever he would give me. “So good. So deep. So big.” I rambled, the only words that my brain could come up with at the given moment.

“I want y’to watch, darlin. Look at y’r pretty face as I fuck you.” He spoke, knowing I wouldn’t be able to open my eyes in the slightest, coming across like nothing but a cock drunk groupie whore, though I guess, it wasn’t far off. “Y’re basically droolin’ for me.”

“Keep talkin’ to me like that, holy shit, make me cum.”

“Eyes up here. On me. Y’got it.” He praised, his harsh tugs became more gentle as he got more stern in keeping my eyes on the view. “Keep lookin’, c’mon, darlin’, look. Y’re s’beautiful. All f’me, look at ya. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His voice began to ramble, whines and groans leaving his throat at intervals.

“I’m trying.” I mumbled out; “It’s hard.”

“Darl’, ‘m not gon’ keep tellin ya’ to keep y’head up.” He moaned, removing his hand from my hair and rubbing figure 8’s right where I needed it. “Yeah, y’re gonna take it.” He panted, leaning over my body to press kisses on my shoulder and neck. “Take it, darlin’, doin’ good. Doin’ so good.”

I leaned my head back on his shoulder, looking down through half-lidded eyes at the filthy view of him fucking me into his dressing table.

“See? You can handle watchin y’self gettin’ fucked like a good girl.”

“Hobie, ‘m gonna cum.” I moaned, struggling to watch myself but worried that if I stopped, he’d pull his hands away from me.

“Watch y’self, good girl.” He praised again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Fuck, can feel y’squeezin’ me.” He whined. “Cum for me, darlin’, s’pretty when y��clench this big cock, yeah? ‘M stretching it out, y’gonna be so perfect f’me.”

I took a bite out of my knuckle as I felt it hit, he slowed down slightly but kept the movements methodical besides the gradual slowing as he praised me throughout it.

“Hobie—” I cried out.

The way I clenched around him made him harshly hold onto my hip, the moans filled the room loudly as he fucked me through the wave. Small purrs of praise were audible but it was almost impossible to focus.

“You right?” He rasped out, slowing his movements to a halt. He would’ve cum right then and there if he didn’t have half the mind to prolong himself.

“Mhm.” I hummed, dazed and confused. “Keep goin’.” I acknowledged, wanting to make him feel good.

“Wish I could fuck a pretty thing like you after all m’shows.” He spoke sweetly in my ear, thrusting up again for his own orgasm, it started slow but he increased his pace when he began riling himself up with ideas. “Tease y’before so y’re all wet and ready when ‘m done.” He laughed softly. “Y’can help me warm up m’fingers for the guitar.”

He spoke softly and calmly as he could, feeling the wetness twitch around him from overstimulation. He kept this slow as he could, knowing that he didn’t want to end things just yet. His dazed eyes tried to memorise every detail he could; hooking up with a groupie meant the chance of never seeing them again, his movements on my clit picking up too; he was desperate to bring me pleasure, he needed this just as much as I did, which was saying a lot.

I weakly tried to keep my head up, watching his face attentively, he looked completely dishevelled with need; something about this was driving him crazy but all I could focus on was how good he felt.

He started kissing my neck again before deciding to ask a question he knew I probably wouldn’t answer otherwise. “Why ain’t you got’a boyfr’nd?” He grunted over my limp body, feeling himself hit the deepest parts and watching me react to it. My vision would go white and I’d jerk into the feeling.

“Don’t want one. Only want you.” I spoke matter-of-factly despite my dazed demeanour.

“Fuck, Y/n, Don’t say that.” He choked. “Wan’ keep you all f’myself.”

I groaned, pressing myself closer against his body. His arms wrapped around my torso, pulling me to stand upright and my arms reached around to touch him the best I could, though his hand stayed glued to the pussy that he’d grown infatuated with.

“Y’re gonna be thinkin’ about this for a long time, yeah?” He breathed. “Gonna think about m’cock fuckin’ into y’cunt?”

“Hobie—”

“I feel y’gettin’ close again. God, want y’so fuckin’ bad.”

His hand took a faster pace than what it previously was, rubbing hard and fast circles into my clit, wanting to feel me be undone on him when he cums.

“Better than I could’ve imagined.” I panted in admission.

“Y’re.. ‘M right there.” He moaned. “Y’so hot, makin’ me s’hard. Gonna make m’cum.”

There was nothing I could do to respond besides lewdly take what he was giving me, nodding weakly and trying to watch the view in front of me. He looked so beautifully debauched, and feeling his ragged breathing against my spine was something I didn’t know I needed to feel, something I unknowingly longed for.

“Mhm, y’can stay wit’ us.” He nodded, as if what he was rambling made any sense. “Bring you along, keep you f’shows. Darlin’, you’d be my perfect li’l groupie..”

His pussy-whipped drunk ramblings sounded like a love confession as he neared his release, knowing he didn’t want it to be over so soon but desperately wanting to feel the warm, tensing tightness around him as he filled me as much as he could.

“I want you, I want you.” I nodded back, too cock-drunk to care.

“Cum f’me, y/n, cum with me, need— Oh fuckin’ shit.”

He groaned as he felt the clenching of my walls around his hard cock, desperately wanting to take him for all he’s got. Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me is the only phrase that repeated in my head as I felt the twitching and nearing signs.

“Give it to me, please, give it to me.” I pleaded through orgasm.

His body shook with want and he forced his eyes to stay open, needing to watch this unfold before him in a weak attempt to convince himself that it was real. Keenly watching the way my face contorted as I came on him, my eyes barely open enough to see the way his face mirrored mine. He let out small pants and whines, before his hips pushed deeply, his hips stuttering weakly as he filled me with his cum.

I felt the warm liquid between my legs, throwing my head back and sighing as I tried to relax from the high. Beautiful afterglow; beautiful boy. He collapsed forward slightly, holding me in place but using one arm to support us.

“It’s a really nice tour bus. Don’t even need y’own bed, just sleep in mine.” He continued in a whisper, pressing a soft kiss into the sticky flesh of my neck, nuzzling the hair away.

We stood for a moment before he pulled a chair from the side of the dressing table, slowly sitting us on it and keeping the position, his arms wrapped around me tightly like he never planned to let go.

I squirmed at the feeling. “Mhm.. Y’think?” I laughed softly; not taking him close to serious.

His eyes were heavy and he continued to look at us in the mirror, an unreadable expression as he buried his head behind my shoulder, his eyes barely poking above the flesh for him to admire the view. “I’m serious.” He mumbled awkwardly before going to a complete whisper. “Stay?”

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internetscenarios · 4 months ago

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I saw your TGC post and I am begging on my knees for some flirty / fluff Isaac or Tanner content 🧎🏻‍♀️

Also side note I’m a such a huge fan of your writing and just the way you lay out your blog ugh LOVE

- 🦕 (idk if this one is taken)

yess absolutely!!!! ill do isaac for now since i haven’t written tgc in a while also tysm!!! 😢🤍 the madoka magica gifs pull it together LOL

also dw 🦕 isn’t taken <3

ill do like flirty pre relationship and in relationship hcs,,,,

isaac

pre-relationship;

♡ definitely says back-handed compliments, then flips it

♡ i think he’s more flirty over text than in person

♡ but he definitely is confident in person, i think he is just more outgoing on text

♡ you know how he acts with all the guys? i think he tames it down a bit with you but is actually more caring if hes doing anything with you

♡ he is constantly doing things for you like it is UNREAL

♡ like let’s say you have a favourite drink, the second you wake up it’s literally at your desk

if you live in group fart house that is heart emoji

♡ you and him just having really long conversations for HOURS.

during-relationship;

♡ the way he asks you out is probably so cute but like. non-chalant

non chalant dreadhead

♡ it’s probably during one of your long conversations you both have, like he just blurts it out

♡ so kind to you!!! you’ll be hanging out with everyone and they are all chatting away and being silly while you two are just sat there quietly talking

♡ if the guys are making fun of you he is literally going out of his way to defend you

“y/n. you freaking smell.”

“NO THEY DONT!!!1!1!1!”

he breaks down into to tears on his knees because he couldn’t believe tanner would SAY SUCH A THING.

♡ hes going out of his way to visit you basically everyday, lets say you live in a house/apartment, he is on his way before your even awake!!

♡ if you live in group fart house i feel like he changes his whole sleep schedule for you..

like this man is working non-stop. checking his twt for updates daily heart emoji

♡ buttt if he knew you wanted to sleep a little earlier than him, hes going to sleep with you.

♡ if u hate being warm in the night… i feel bad for u.. this man will NOT let you go

♡ he either has one arm slung around you, or just fully clinging onto you for dear life

♡ you wake up in the morning feeling like a bajillion suns have just tapped you gently, while he wakes up like a disney princess with his arms stretched and a high pitch yawn

sorry that was a joke heart emoji

♡ PRINCESS TREATMENT. sidewalk rule. literally picking you up and moving you if you’re ever so slightly in his way.

♡ i feel like he spoils you sm as well…

overall.. we all need an isaac in our life..

I HOPE THIS IS OKAY!!! i may or may not do tanner another time but i wanna get some requests done first 🤍

also i might start writing for hasan… if anyone cares heheheheh

#tgc x reader #the group x reader #the groupchat x reader #the groupchat podcast #isaacwhy imagines #isaacwhy headcanons #isaacwhy x reader #isaacwhy x you

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

Text

Fight

Summary: When you get a phone call from your elementary school that your girls got into a fight, Javi leaves work to figure out what happened.

Word Count: 3.6K

Pairing: Dad!Javi x Wife!reader (No use of y/n)

Warnings: Violence (the Peña girls get in a fight at school), bullying, the Peña girls being little badasses, Javi being a proud dad, idk everything I post for this series is gonna be sickeningly sweet, I'm not sure what to tell you 😩

A/N: I literally had this idea on the drive into work this morning, got a terrible migraine, went home, woke up and wrote this in like an hour 🤪 This was inspired by @bbiophiliaa asking me about the girl's personalities, and I think this sums it up pretty darn well! GOD I LOVE THIS FAMILY YALL GOTTA SEDATE ME

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the NTL universe!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

The phone number for Alma Pierce Elementary was one you recognize like the back of your hand. If it weren’t for all the years you’d worked there as a teacher, the fact that two of your three daughters now attended there as 1st and 3rd graders meant that you had the school’s phone number memorized almost as well as your own. That’s why when you got a phone call from Alma Pierce in the middle of the day, while waiting in the lobby of your pediatrician’s office for an appointment with your youngest (and her never ending cold that she couldn’t seem to shake), you were surprised to see the number that you knew all too well pop up on your caller ID.

Being a former teacher, your girls knew better than to try and play sick and call home to get out of school, and noting their usual chipper and enthusiastic demeanor this morning when you dropped them off, you found it hard to believe that a mystery illness had plagued them enough in the past few hours to warrant a call home. You ran through your mental checklist in your head of your morning routine, almost positive that Lucy and Elliot had both their lunches, gym shoes, and no after school activities that they would have forgotten anything for. Your phone continued to ring, a now slightly unsettling feeling building in your stomach as you began to wonder the reason for the midday call.

“Hello?” you answered, bouncing a sleepy, snotty Harper in your lap as you sat waiting in the uncomfortable fake leather of the doctor’s office chair.

“Hi Mrs. Peña, it’s Principal Coleman.”

Oh god.

While Lucy and Elliot were your daughters in every sense that they were just as feisty and stubborn as you, they were sweet girls, and knew better than to do anything to break the rules or be disrespectful at school.

Or, so you thought.

Your heart began to sink to the pit of your stomach, knowing that a call from the Principal at 1:30 in the afternoon most likely didn’t mean good news, letting out a quiet deep breath before responding.

“Hi Principal Coleman, how are you?”

“Well Mrs. Peña, I’m going to start off by saying I’m just as shocked as you probably are about the reason behind this phone call.”

Oh sweet Jesus, what did these two do?

You paused for a moment before Principal Coleman spoke again, without even giving you a chance to ask what had happened. “Today at recess, Lucy and Elliot beat up a boy in Elliot’s class pretty badly.”

Was this a joke? There’s no way that she could be serious, right? You girls fought at home, but to gang up on another boy? At school? Heat began to flood through your cheeks in embarrassment and anger at your daughters as you tried to compose yourself enough to speak. “Principal Coleman, I- I’m so sorry. I’m- I don’t even know what to say. Do you know what happened?”

“No, not yet, the girls are in my office right now, but I was hoping that you’d be able to come join us to have a conversation about it, considering what a serious thing this has become. Especially since your girls aren’t ones I see in my office often.”

You stared down at Harper, wiping the back of her little arm against her boogery nose as she groaned and leaned against her chest. It had taken you a week to make an appointment for her, and for her sanity, or yours, you didn’t want to have to wait another week longer, but there was no way you weren’t finding out what the was reason why your girls had attacked someone out on the playground. You looked around frantically, trying to brainstorm a solution until you remembered the other half responsible for creating your fist fighting monsters.

“Yes, absolutely Principal Coleman. I’m at the doctor with my other daughter right now, but I’ll see if my husband can come down to the school to talk with the girls.”

“Perfect, thank you so much, Mrs. Peña.”

You had barely hung up before you were punching the keys of your cell phone, dialing up Javi and anxiously chewing on your bottom lip as you waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Hermosa!” You could almost hear Javi’s smile through the phone, his voice sweet and unassuming, considering it wasn’t uncommon for you to call him during the day, and especially not about things like this. “What’s going on, baby?”

“Um, I just got a call from the Principal saying that Lucy and Elliot beat up a kid during recess.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Wait, Osita, you can’t be serious?” Javi responded, almost more in shock than you were at the news.

“I’m being serious, Jav. She wants one of us down there to go talk with him, but I’ve got Harper at the doctor’s right now and I don’t want to have to reschedule if I don’t have to. Is there any way you can go?” You sighed, rubbing your fingers on the sides of your temples from the impending headache your girls were causing you.

“Holy shit. Yeah, yeah- of course, I’ll head over right now. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know, she didn’t say. Jesus Jav, I’m so embarrassed, I know the girls fight at home, but to beat up someone at school? What did we do wrong that would make them think that’s okay?” You could feel the nervous, frustrated tears beginning to well in your eyes, guilt and shame creeping through every inch of your body, currently feeling like the worst parent to have ever existed in that moment.

“Shhhh, hey, Osita, it’s alright. I’m sure there has to be a reason. I’m gonna head out right now and figure it out, okay? I love you. Give Harps a big kiss for me, yeah?”

“Okay. I love you too. Thanks, Jav.”

With a gentle click of the receiver, the other side of the line went silent, leaving you and Harper in the bright, sterile lights of the waiting room. The ceiling lights may as well been spotlights beaming down in your direction, now sensing several pairs of eyes on you after your phone call. You’d never been so thankful for your 4 year old’s sleepy, sick state, because if she was any more awake, she would be happily babbling about your phone call to everyone in the lobby, letting them know her big sisters got in a fight at school.

“Harper Peña?” A voice called from across the lobby.

Well, at least one of your 3 daughters you could help take care of.

Javi was pretty sure the last time drove this fast anywhere was after your water broke with Elliot, making it to the hospital in record breaking time. Whipping into the first empty parking spot he found, Javi practically sprinted through the parking lot to the front of the building, his heart pounding as he stepped into the main office, greeted by the familiar faces of your old co-workers, with unfamiliar grimaces on their faces.

“Principal Coleman’s back this way.” Señora Gonzalez mumbled, almost avoiding eye contact with Javi as she pointed to the open door behind her desk. As if the phone call from his wife earlier didn’t have him worried enough, the dismayed look on everyone’s faces sure didn’t help.

“Hi Mr. Peña. Please, take a seat.” Principal Coleman smiled politely after outstretching her hand for Javi to shake before gesturing towards the empty seat between Lucy and Elliot. If there was one thing Javi was not shocked about, it was the way both of his daughters seemed to be handling the current situation. Lucy, being the empathetic older sister she was, was in tears, trying her best to keep from bawling as she looked up at her dad, her face riddled with guilt. Elliot on the other hand, was leaned back in her chair, arms crossed against her chest, seeming almost completely unbothered by her current situation, giving Javi a little shrug, as if to say I’m not sure why we’re here either.

“Principal Coleman, I just want to start off by saying I’m so sorry. I was shocked when my wife called me and said the girls had been in a fight.”

“He was asking for it…” Elliot mumbled under her breath, arms still crossed, slouching even lower.

“Elliot Marie.” Javi snapped, giving his daughter a dangerous glare, knowing her stubborn attitude he was all too familiar with.

“Well why don’t you go ahead then Elliot. Can you explain to us what happened?” Principal Coleman asked, nodding at Elliot. Elliot let out a deep sigh, sitting up a little straighter in her chair, uncrossing her arms and bracing them on the armrests of her seat.

“Principal Coleman, do you know Hunter in my class?” Elliot asked, prepping the room as if she was getting ready to argue her case in court. Principal Coleman slightly cocked her head, intrigued by Elliot’s question.

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay. Well at the beginning of the year, Mrs. Walker told us that Hunter’s brain is kind of different than ours. He says the same things over and over and makes silly noises and moves his body around even when he’s supposed to be sitting still. She said it’s because he has Autumn-tism. I don’t know why it’s called that because he doesn’t really like the fall, but he does really like outer space.”

“He has Autism, Elliot, not Autumn-tism.” Lucy groaned, rolling her eyes at her sister.

“Whatever.” Elliot sighed, rolling her eyes right back. “Anyways, no one ever wanted to play with Hunter because he was different from other kids, and everyone called him weird, and I felt really sad because everyone should have friends to play with at school. So one day I decided to ask him if he wanted to play and now we’re best friends and play rocket ships every day at recess.” Elliot adjusted again, scooching up taller in her chair, looking back and forth between her dad and Principal Coleman. “And even though Mrs. Walker always says be kind to everyone, Max in my class is not very kind, especially to Hunter. He always makes fun of him and calls him mean names, and I always tell him to stop because it hurts Hunter’s feelings.”

“Well I’m very glad that you are standing up for your friend Elliot, but how did this end up with you and Lucy both beating up Max?”

“I’m getting there Principal Coleman, I promise.” Elliot nodded, already halfway out the door to law school at this point. “Today at recess, Hunter and I were on the swings playing rockets, minding our own business, when all of a sudden Max came up out of nowhere and pushed Hunter so hard off the swings he landed in the wood chips and started crying. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he said that Hunter deserved it because he was a freak and freaks shouldn’t get to have friends.”

“It’s true, that’s what he said…” Lucy quietly chimed in, barely lifting her eyes off their fixed spot on the floor. “I was out at recess too and I saw Max push Hunter so I went over to help.”

“So I helped Hunter up and then I told Max that he can’t talk to him like that, and if he keeps making fun of him, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts.”

“She did also say that…” Lucy grimaced, looking over at her sister.

“Well. He called him a stupid loser who should go fly to outer space so no one ever has to see him again. So I kicked him in the nuts. I warned him.” Elliot responded, holding up her hands in defense.

“I may have kicked him too…”

“I’m really sorry, Daddy. And I'm sorry Principal Coleman. I know we’re not supposed to fight and use our words but I couldn’t let him make fun of Hunter anymore. It’s not fair.”

“I’m really sorry, too. I should have told her to stop. She is right, Max is always so mean to him for no reason besides the fact he’s different and he can’t help it.”

The girls both looked up at their dad with remorse, their sweet little faces filled with a mix of guilt and pride, knowing they were in the wrong for what they had done, but also knowing they had done what was right for Elliot’s friend, even if it meant finding themselves in the Principal’s Office.

After hearing his daughter’s story, his face mirrored theirs. While he also didn’t think he’d find himself in the Principal’s Office this afternoon, he also couldn’t help but feel proud knowing that his daughters cared so deeply about this boy, and had gone out of their way to stand up for him with no hesitation. There had been so many times since the girls had been born that Javi wondered if he had ever done right by his daughters. But seeing them here today, knowing all they wanted to do was stand up for the person who needed it most had him feeling like maybe, just maybe, he was doing something right.

Even Principal Coleman’s face began to soften, realizing the circumstances of the situation, recognizing the Peña girls wanted nothing more than to protect their friend, even if they perhaps hadn’t gone about it the right way.

“Well girls. I think that we can all agree that moving forward, violence is never the right way to solve our problems, correct?” Lucy and Elliot softly bobbed their heads, looking down at the ground. “That being said, I do think that it is very brave of you that you stood up for Hunter. He is very lucky to have such thoughtful friends.” Principal Coleman smiled, Lucy and Elliot’s heads now perking back up in shock. “I do think that you still do need to apologize to Max for what you did, so tomorrow, the three of us are going to meet, sound fair?”

The girls shook their heads in agreement, still bracing themselves for the rest of their punishment. “Mr. Peña, while I do not condone fighting in the slightest, I do think there is something to be said for the fact your girls have such big hearts.”

“Thank you.” Javi beamed, peering down at his two girls, resting a hand on each of their knees and giving them a little shake. “Again, I am really sorry, I promise we’ll talk about using our words instead of fighting if something like this ever happens again.”

“Of course. Alright girls, you two can both head back to class and-”

“Actually, if it’s okay, I’m gonna sign them out and take them home.” Javi interjected, the girls now staring at their dad in confusion. Principal Coleman nodded, her and Javi shaking hands once again before the 3 Peñas made their way out of the office.

“Daddy, why are we going home?” Elliot asked, puzzled by her dad’s proposition.

“Just go get your stuff, okay?” Javi smiled, nudging the two girls towards the door as they speeded off to their classrooms, quickly returning with their backpacks.

The 3 loaded into Javi’s truck, Lucy and Elliot exchanging silent, confused looks in the backseat before Elliot worked up the courage to speak. “Daddy… Are you mad at us?”

Javi turned back around to face the girls, tilting his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. “You guys know you shouldn’t be fighting at school, right?”

“Right.” The little voices said in unison.

“Good. I’m not mad, girls. I’m really proud of you. You did the right thing standing up for that kid. There may be times in life where there isn’t always an easy answer to things, but you girls did what you knew was right, and that’s what mattered most. Sounds like Max is a really big jerk anyways.”

“You can say that again…” Elliot snorted, the 3 of them laughing along at her comment. With that, Javi turned over the ignition in his car, the engine roaring to life as he began to pull out of the parking lot in the opposite direction of home.

“Dad, we don’t go home this way?” Lucy pointed out, in her lovingly know-it-all voice.

“I know. That’s because we’re going to get ice cream.” Javi grinned, the girls now cheering in excitement, dancing in their seats.

“Just don’t tell mom.”

Your mind hadn’t stopped racing since the minute you had gotten the phone call from school a few hours ago, now only beating faster as you saw Javi’s truck parked in the driveway at 3:30, before he or the girls would have been finished with work or school. You scooped Harper out of her carseat, rushing inside to see what in the world was going on, only to be greeted by the sounds of giggles and laughter from Javi, Lucy and Elliot along with Mario Kart Double Dash dinging and clanging in the background.

“No Dad, you have to throw the banana!”

“What do you mean, throw it? I still have shells I have to get rid of, right? This game makes no sense and I’m in last place.”

“Maybe if you threw the banana, you wouldn’t be in last place!”

“Uhhhh… What’s going on?” You asked, wondering how in the world you had gone from a very serious phone call with your husband a few hours ago to him and the girls playing GameCube on the couch like it was any other day.

“Hi Mom!” The girls shouted in unison, throwing down their controllers and running over towards you, wrapping their arms around your waist in a tight hug.

“Hi?” You asked wearily, starting to wonder if this phone call had been a fever dream given everyone’s happy demeanor. “Are we not gonna talk about the phone call I got from Principal Coleman earlier today?” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, now making his way towards you, standing on the other side of the girls to sandwich them in between you and him in a hug, leaning over them to press a kiss onto your lips. “Taking them out of school early to play Mario Kart doesn’t look a lot like a punishment, Jav.” You grumbled into his ear, his face still pressed against yours.

“Girls, why don’t you go play so Mom and I can talk about what happened, okay?” The girls happily agreed, taking Harper back over to the couch and resuming their game while you leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms folded over your chest in disappointment at Javi, waiting for an explanation.

“You’ve heard Elliot talk about Hunter in her class before?” You could already feel your guard starting to come down, knowing you had a feeling exactly where this conversation was headed after hearing who was involved. “Apparently, a kid in Elliot’s class was picking on him for being Autistic and pushed him off the swings, so her and Lucy kicked him in the crotch.” You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, relief slowly turning into laughter as you buried your face in your hands, letting out a deep exhale before looking back at Javi. “I talked to them and they feel bad about it and know it’s wrong and they’re gonna apologize to the kid, but I couldn’t be that mad at them, right? They stood up for the kid even if they knew it was gonna get them in trouble. I’m honestly proud of them.”

You took a step towards Javi, pulling him in for a hug, resting your head against his shoulder as you spoke into his chest. “God, what are we gonna do with these girls?” The two of you chuckled, Javi snaking his hand down to cradle your cheek, tracing his thumb along your jaw.

“Ask for a raise so we can send Elliot off to law school, apparently. Made a hell of a case in Coleman’s office. Just as head strong as her Momma.” Javi leaned down, letting his nose brush against yours as he tenderly placed his lips on yours, letting them linger for a moment while your smiles crept between them.

“And their Daddy’s sense of right and wrong. Guess we must be doing something right if they care that much.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, his sweet brown eyes beaming down back at you, wondering how in the world you had ended up with 3 of the sassiest, sweetest combinations of the two of you in your daughters. “Okay, well, this was not how I was planning the rest of the day to go, but I guess it’s a happy surprise to have all of us home, so I’ll take it. I love you, Jav.”

“I love you too, Osita.”

You wrapped your arms around Javi’s waist, squeezing him in a long, tight hug as pressed his arms against your back, pulling you in closer as he planted a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey Munchkins, you want a snack and then we can pick something to play outside together?”

“Okay!” The girls shouted from the family room over the background noise of their game until Elliot piped up again.

“Honestly, I’m okay on snacks, I’m still really full from the ice cream.”

You spun back around to look up at Javi, running his hand over the back of his neck, darting his eyes away from yours as you rested your hands on your hips, shaking your head. “Ice cream? Really?”

“Hey, kickin’ ass is hard work.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @millennial-teenybopper

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aventurineswife · 4 months ago

Note

👀 Sunday with Kiana-like!Reader, tackling the roots of various problems instead of building of walls and cages and sweet dreams coughslikeSundaycoughs and doing everything they can to help and protect people from memetic monsters and other otherworldly threats while also running themselves so far into the ground they occasionally get sick or injured or both.

Think of the angst potential.

Between Waking and Dreaming

Summary: As the Charmony Festival unfolds, Sunday confronts you after yet another exhausting battle against otherworldly threats. Despite your relentless drive to help and protect others, often at the cost of your own health, Sunday encourages you to prioritize your well-being. Through his support and understanding, the two of you begin to bridge the gap between his vision of a painless dream and your determination to tackle problems head-on.

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Kiana Kaslana based Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Opposites Attract, Self-Sacrifice, Angst with a Happy Ending, Tender Moments, Mutual Growth, Slow-Burn Potential.

Warnings: Mentions of self-sacrificial behavior and overexertion, Mild descriptions of physical and emotional exhaustion.

A/N: I like your thinking, anon🫣👀 (this may be ooc since idk much about HI3)

The sky was darkening as the city of Oak's heart, bustling with the Charmony Festival's lively spirit, began to quiet. The sounds of laughter and music still filled the air, but something in the breeze felt different, a hint of tension lingering between the edges of the revelry.

Sunday stood in the grand hall of the Oak Family estate, surveying the aftermath of a particularly taxing day. The festival was only a glimpse of what he strived for—the Sweetdream Paradise—a realm where everyone could escape pain, a dream of peace that seemed so far from reach.

But then there was you.

You, a beacon of light amid all the shadows.

You were his opposite in so many ways. While Sunday envisioned a painless world, an eternal dream that might shield people from their suffering, you rejected that ideal. You weren’t about building walls, much less cages, around people’s hearts. Instead, you believed in confronting problems, tackling the very roots of what ailed the world, no matter how impossible it seemed. You fought the memetic monsters and the otherworldly threats head-on, with all your heart and spirit.

And, much to Sunday’s dismay, you pushed yourself to the brink every single time. You didn’t stop, didn’t take a break, and refused to let anyone shoulder the burden of protecting the world alone, even if it meant running yourself into the ground.

But Sunday saw the toll it took. He always did. The days when your energy was completely drained, when your eyes were clouded by exhaustion or worse, illness. The way you fought through your own pain, convinced that you could bear it all if it meant no one else had to.

“[Name],” Sunday said, voice gentle but firm as he stepped closer to where you were sitting, wiping away the sweat from your brow. Your hand was still clutching your side, your breath shallow from the battle you’d just fought.

“You shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this.” His eyes softened as he crouched beside you, his angelic halo shimmering above his head. The wings at his ears glinted in the dim light, but they seemed almost dull compared to the brightness of his concern for you.

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head rested against the wall, a deep, lingering weariness overtaking you. “We still have to take care of the memetic distortion. I’m... I'm okay.”

Sunday’s fingers brushed your hair back, a quiet act of tenderness. He knew you were anything but okay. The way you’d been pushing yourself had drained you, and it was starting to show in every sharp breath you took, in the way your body trembled slightly. The only thing that seemed to give you comfort was the thought of protecting others, yet you were blind to how much you were hurting yourself in the process.

“You’re not okay, [Name],” he murmured, his voice dipping into something softer, something that betrayed the stern leader he often portrayed. His eyes flickered with a hint of frustration, but it was frustration aimed not at you, but at the world that had shaped you into someone who believed sacrificing your well-being was the only way to protect those around you. “Why can’t you just rest? You’re no good to anyone like this.”

You tried to smile, but it was a weak thing, slipping away just as quickly as it had come. “Because if I don’t, who will protect them?”

Sunday sighed, kneeling down until his face was level with yours. His wavy(?) hair framed his face, the piercing angel wings catching the light. His gaze softened, but there was something in it—something resolute, yet filled with concern. “You’re so much like me. Always thinking of others before yourself. But you’re wrong. You’re burning yourself out, and you won’t be able to protect anyone if you’re broken.”

“You don’t understand,” you muttered, shaking your head, the weight of your thoughts pressing down. “This world isn’t a sweet dream. There’s so much pain. If I don’t keep fighting, I don’t know what will happen. I can’t let people suffer.”

Sunday looked at you for a long moment, studying your expression as you battled your inner turmoil. There was something in his eyes—a reflection of his own personal struggle. The very thing that haunted him: the idea that people couldn’t escape their suffering, not by his design, not by anyone’s.

“You’re right,” he admitted, his voice lower, softer than you’d heard it before. “This world isn’t a sweet dream. It’s a waking nightmare for many. And maybe it always will be.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the rare admission. Sunday, the stoic leader, the one who wished for an escape from all the pain, was agreeing with you?

“But,” he continued, “I’m starting to realize something. I’ve spent so much time building a paradise for people to escape pain. But you—you don’t run away from it. You face it head-on. You try to help, even when it feels impossible. And that… that is what makes you stronger.”

You blinked, feeling a strange warmth spread through your chest. For all the times Sunday had pushed his ideals on you, for all the times he’d insisted on the Sweetdream Paradise, here he was, acknowledging your own way of doing things. He was seeing you—not as someone who needed to fit into his dream, but as someone with a purpose of their own.

“I can’t fix the world alone,” you said, your voice quiet but filled with resolve. “I just… I can’t let people suffer. Not while I’m here. Not while there’s something I can do about it.”

Sunday reached out, his gloved hand gently cupping your cheek. His eyes held a quiet intensity, but now there was something softer—something that had always been there beneath the surface. “I understand. But you have to learn to take care of yourself too. You can’t save everyone if you’re the one who’s broken.”

You hesitated, then nodded, finally allowing yourself to lean into his touch, the exhaustion and pain too much to hold back any longer. “I’ll try,” you whispered, though doubt lingered in your voice.

Sunday smiled, the soft, warm smile that you hadn’t seen much of lately. The one that said, “I’m here with you.”

“I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to breathe. The weight of the world hadn’t lifted, but Sunday’s presence beside you, his quiet promise to help carry the burden, made it feel like maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for a different way.

And in that moment, you felt a spark of hope—a hope that, even in a world full of pain, you didn’t have to carry the weight alone.

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #sunday #kiana kaslana #hurt/comfort #emotional support #opposites attract #self sacrifice #angst with a happy ending #tender moments #mutual growth #slow burn potential

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house-of-lovin · 2 years ago

Text

love language

Tara Carpenter x F!Reader

masterlist | over (1) | safety net (3)

Summary: Tara Carpenter loves to play games with you. (inspired by love language by SZA)

Warnings: sexual themes implied, mature language. toxic!tara, jealous!tara.

Note: this was originally going to be a two-parter, but I wanted to keep writing about this dynamic. So I made it into three parts! Sorry for the long wait, I've been deathly ill the last few days, so it's been hard to do anything but sleep :/ but the last part will be posted tomorrow! (idk how i feel abt this but i tried my best lol)

Word Count: 3.7k+

Tara: ‘Last night was fun ;) but had to run!’

At least she had the decency to leave you a text as she left you to wake up in your bed, alone.

Sighing, you sit up; cracks and pops reverberate through the empty room as you stretch your stiff muscles. You run a tired hand on your face and glance at the spot beside you where Tara was just hours ago.

You should have known she would leave.

You weren’t sure if she even bothered to stay after you had passed from exhaustion after the fourth round. Tara rarely stayed over, her sister’s overprotectiveness made the occasion scarce. Coupled with the fact that the smaller girl thought it crossed boundaries to stay the night. So, the only time she had ever slept was when you fucked her senselessly she physically couldn’t make it home.

“Morning!” A loud voice interrupts the quietness in your dorm. “I bought the three of us some coffee. By the way, I didn’t appreciate coming home to you and Tara naked. You do you, but at least send a text – or hang a sock on the door… where’d Tara go?”

“Left…” You flush embarrassed, grabbing the shirt on your headboard to slip on, and stepping off your bed. Shivers run through your bare feet as you step on the cold floor.

“Oh…”

“Yeah… Oh.” You replied bitterly, moving to gather some clothes to start your day; even if it started off on the wrong foot already.

“...How does that make you feel?” She says after a few moments of silence.

“You’re not gonna therapize me right now, Minds.” You laugh, trying to avoid her probing tone. “It’s too early and I’m nearly naked.”

“You’re really gonna stand there and tell me it doesn’t bother you how she’s acting?” She crosses her arms, fed up with you and her childhood friend’s immature antics.

“Why would it bother me?” You say as evenly as you can. “We’re just hooking up.”

She scoffs, “Yeah right, Chad told me what happened at the coffee shop last night.”

You roll your eyes, “Of course, he did.”

“Point is… she’s playing games with you and you say that you’re fine with it because you're just hooking up but I can tell it bothers you, Y/N."

You stand rigid, unmoving and slightly uncomfortable. Talking about your feelings has never been your strong suit, maybe that’s why you fell so easily into this routine with Tara. It was all physical and lust-driven; no words have to be uttered when you two are tangled in each other’s sheets. But maybe, somewhere along the way lines began to blur the longer you got to know the Carpenter. The more your lives began to intertwine the harder it became to separate feelings during sex.

It grows increasingly difficult to ignore that thought, when she acts affectionately toward you around your friends. During movie nights, she’d scare off anyone else who dared to sit beside you; sharing a blanket and linking your fingers underneath. And in the classes you had together, she always made sure to save a seat for you beside her, leaning into you as close as she can.

“I promise… I’m fine. Tara can do whatever she wants.” You maintain eye contact with your roommate; trying to remain unbothered.

“I can’t deal with you two.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m just saying… you two have danced around each other long enough, maybe it's time you really talk to each other. Before someone gets hurt.”

You stay silent thinking over her words.

“Look... I really didn’t want to like you when I first moved here – getting stabbed makes people paranoid, you know.” She chuckles dryly. “But I guess the odds are finally in my favour 'cause I got a roommate I actually like… so figure your shit out because I’d like to keep hanging out together as a group please.”

You chuckle, breaking out of your trance. You send her a lopsided smile, appreciating her words. “I like being your roommate too, Minds.”

“Gross, this is too much for me now… go take a shower, you reek of sex.” She purposefully avoids your eyes, turning to grab her now lukewarm coffee.

You roll your eyes, laughing at Mindy's antics but grab some clothes anyway to start your day.

●●●

“So I just handed in my last assignment, which means it’s officially spring break for me… and everyone’s gonna be out tonight. Wanna come over?” Tara slides into your booth out of nowhere.

You flinch, slightly startled; dropping the pen you were using with a clang. You were currently in the common room on campus attempting to get some studying in before your final exam. “What?”

She rolls her eyes but smiles fondly at you. “I said, everyone’s out for the night. Come over… I miss you.”

Your cheeks flush as your heart darts wildly in your chest at her words. “We were just together last night…”

“Yeah, but I had to leave so soon cause Sam was coming home early.” She pouted, moving closer to you to swing her leg over yours.

You clear your throat, glancing down. “I still have to study for my exam tomorrow.”

“Come over after you study then…” She places a hand on your inner thigh, swiping her thumb on the fabric of your pants.

“Tara…” You were trying your hardest to gather some sort of self-control but it was becoming increasingly difficult when she started leaving light kisses on your shoulder. “Tara there are other people around.”

You were lucky you had chosen a booth that was tucked in the corner of the room, facing away from possible wandering eyes. Even still, this was definitely not the time nor the place, no matter how much you wanted to give in.

“Don’t care…” Her kisses on your clothed shoulder move upward toward your neck. You grab at her waist, trying to push her back. “Tara, seriously.”

She simply wraps her free arm around your shoulder, moving closer to you. “I’ll only stop if you promise to come over…”

You feel her bite down on the bruise you tried to cover up with your hoodie; you wince. “Ow… okay, okay. I’ll come over, now stop before someone reports us for public indecency.”

She rolls her eyes, but smirks smugly, unwrapping herself from you. You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t immediately feel cold from the lack of contact. “You’re no fun… but I’ll see you tonight.”

The Carpenter doesn’t say anything else. Just slides out of the booth, gathers her things and walks away from you.

You drop your head against the headrest of the booth, heaving out a heavy sigh. You feel like the most pathetic person in the world for giving in so easily, especially since Mindy’s words kept ringing in your ears all morning.

Later that night, you found yourself standing in front of the Carpenter’s apartment, contemplating if it wasn’t too late to turn around and run away. This is a bad idea and you knew it. You should have padlocked yourself in your dorm and not left until the weekend was over. But Mindy had convinced you this was the best chance for you to finally talk to Tara.

So here you were rooted dumbly in front of her door. Unable to bring yourself to knock.

The door opening makes the decision for you. “I heard you stomping down the hall, were you not gonna to knock?”

She has a smirk planted across her lips as she leans against the doorframe.

“Uh… I was just about to...”

You see her brow raise in amusement but doesn’t question your awkwardness; electing to pull you into her apartment with a tug on your wrist. “Come on… I have a movie on and popcorn waiting for us.”

You allow her to lead you through the apartment and then to the couch, pushing you to sit down. Upon sitting, you take a moment to scan the living room; taking note of the one light coming from the kitchen, casting darkness to the rest of the room. She has candles lit up on the coffee table across from you, with bowls of an assortment of snacks.

This suddenly felt more… intimate. You felt a pang of guilt for thinking she had only invited you over as a booty call.

“Um… what is this?” You ask dumbly.

“What’s it look like? Movie night.” She chuckles before plopping down beside you and draping a blanket over your legs. You feel her move closer, pressing your thighs together.

The two of you haven’t had a movie night since before you had fallen into this friends-with-benefits situation. They were actually the reason how you and Tara became closer in the early stages of your friendship.

Two months ago, she had invited you over for a movie night under the guise of simply being bored, but when she had opened the door you saw the slight redness in her irises and the tear-stained marks on her cheeks. You said nothing and just allowed her to pull you inside. In your attempts to cheer her up, you may have made a trip to the liquor store around the corner and drank away your sorrows with the Carpenter. That was the first night you and Tara had ever slept together.

“Oh… I just thought–never mind. Movie night sounds nice.” You smile, appreciating her efforts. Maybe that talk can wait another time. You didn’t want to ruin the night when she was clearly trying.

“Good.” She returns your grin, settling in to lean against you as she entangles your legs. “No talking this is my favourite part.”

“The movie just started.”

“Hush.”

●●●

Thirty minutes must have passed when you felt a hand run up and down your thigh. Your eyes snap away from the TV, looking down atop Tara’s head as she leans on your chest. You couldn’t see her face from this angle but you can tell she was enjoying how you tensed in her touch.

You ignore the movements, turning back to face the screen. But Tara doesn’t seem satisfied as she tilts her head up. The feeling of her soft lips brushing against your neck makes you stiffen even more in her hold. And like earlier, she begins to leave a litter of light pecks on your still-bruised neck.

“Tara…”

She hums, scooting up to reach your jaw. Her fingers tickle your sides as she slips her fingers under your shirt to grab your waist, shuffling to sit on your lap. Tara kisses that spot just under your ear that always makes you cave – marking you. She has you now and she knew it.

A part of you wants to bang your head against the wall because of course this movie night would eventually lead to sex. It always leads to sex with Tara. It was like a vicious cycle you couldn’t get off of. But the way she touches you feels so heavenly that you couldn’t even think clearly enough to stop her.

“Take this off…” She mutters, bunching up your shirt in a fist as she pushes it up. You pull back to obey her request, hastily yanking the fabric off your head and connecting your mouths in a harsh kiss. You slip your hand under her shirt, tracing your fingers dangerously close to the waistband of her shorts. She whines under the cold touch.

“No teasing…” She whispers before grabbing at your cheeks to pull you impossibly closer; the feeling of her tongue brushing against yours feels sinful.

You wrap an arm around her waist, ready to flip her on her back and take her on this couch when suddenly a frantic knock startles you both.

“What the fuck?” Tara mutters, pulling away from you but keeping a firm grip on your shoulders. She was panting heavily, lips already beginning to bruise.

“I thought you said everyone was out for the night?” You heave, also trying to catch your breath.

“They were…” She mutters, sliding off your lap to toss you your shirt. You slip it over your head swiftly, following the smaller girl as she walks to the door.

She takes a look through the peephole and the scowl on her face was an indication that she was less than pleased. Then she moves to unlock the numerous amounts of locks on her door, yanking it open.

The twins, Anika and Ethan stood on the other side of the door.

“What are you guys doing here?” Tara says unamused, crossing her arms over her chest. You move to stand behind her, connecting eyes with your roommate.

“Mindy said it’s movie night, so we came over,” Chad answers from behind his twin, holding up a plastic bag with a large smile on his face. “Don’t worry, we brought snacks!”

You send your roommate a glare, grateful Tara had her back to you. Slightly irritated because Mindy had been the one insisting you go see Tara.

Tara sighs, dropping her crossed arms. She glances at you for a brief moment, before opening the door wider to let the others in.

“I’m gonna make some more popcorn…” The Carpenter mutters, leaving the room.

You immediately corner Mindy. “What the hell, man? You told me to talk to her, what are you doing here?”

She raises an unimpressed brow, pointing at your neck. “Did she leave that hickey on your neck when you guys were talking too?”

You slap a hand on the spot she’s pointing at, attempting to hide it. “Shut up… I was going to talk to her later.”

“No, you weren’t.” She whispers, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “You two were going to have sex and ignore the talking part… like you always do.”

You cross your arms, scowling, “So you gathered the entire village to cockblock me instead?”

“Yes.” She responds unapologetically. You stare at your roommate for a few seconds. Eventually, you groan lowly, knowing she’s right. You were about to give in to Tara and until you two have talked about what this is, that probably wasn’t the best idea.

Ultimately, that chance to talk with Tara never came as the friend group all settled back in the living room to watch a plethora of movies for the rest of the evening. And when Sam came home, everyone knew to call it a night.

Maybe you dodged a bullet by not confronting Tara tonight. Not quite sure what you even wanted to say to her, yet.

Hey Tara, remember when we agreed to just be friends with benefits? Yeah well I caught feelings... actually I may be in love with you. And it hurts when you run off with other people. Ha. Sorry.

She would run away from you. Tara was like a deer, you needed to be cautious upon approach. But even then, it was getting increasingly difficult to just remain friends with her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Tara leans against the doorframe; watching as you slip on your jacket to leave.

“I have my exam in the morning, but maybe after.” You stand unmoving for a few moments, wanting nothing more than to leave a kiss on her cheek but her sister was standing right there, watching the two of you with an observant gaze. So instead, you squeeze her shoulder, send her a tight-lipped smile and catch up with the rest of the group down the hall.

You missed Tara’s disappointed frown.

●●●

“What’s wrong with you?” Anika asks over the loud music.

Since it was officially spring break for everyone; students who decided to stay on campus have been throwing parties non-stop. And currently, that's where Tara found herself; huddled on a couch on a Thursday night beside Anika and Mindy, sipping on a red-solo cup as she watches people drunkenly dance around the room.

“What? There’s wrong with me.” She glances at her friend, confused.

“You’ve been staring holes at the front door for the last ten minutes.” Mindy counters, peering over her girlfriend to look at her childhood friend.

“You can just say you’re waiting for Y/N.” Anika teases, bumping her shoulder. "We all know."

Tara rolls her eyes, “I’m not waiting for anyone.”

The Carpenter hears a scoff, “You didn’t even wanna go to this party until you heard she might be coming.”

You’ve been…distant with her lately.

Giving half-excuses as to why you can’t hang out, cancelling last minute on group activities or taking hours to respond through texts.

She hasn’t seen you since your friends crashed movie night and that was already a few days ago. You never did meet up with her the next day, and since then you’ve made yourself scarce; not hanging out with the friend group, always seemingly busy.

She had confronted Chad on your whereabouts, she figured he would know where you have been spending your time, given your… close friendship with the boy. But Chad had merely said you were helping your uncle with his shop uptown during the break, hence why you haven’t been around.

Tara was hoping she can get a chance to be alone with you tonight and ask why you have been so closed off with her when she caught wind that Chad might be dragging you to the party.

“Shut up.” She mutters, sipping on the cheap alcohol. “She’s been acting weird lately, I just want answers.”

The two girls nodded, unconvinced. For the amount of times, you two say you’re just ‘hooking up’ Tara sure played the part of the concerned girlfriend perfectly.

Eventually, Tara’s wandering eyes snap to the door, catching a glimpse of the top of your head as push past the crowd with Chad and Ethan trailing behind you. You seem tense, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else than here.

Before she can even think about it, she’s standing, about to stomp over to you but a hand on her wrist stops her.

“What?” She glances over at Mindy.

“At least, let Y/N grab a drink before you ambush her.” She reasons, glancing over at you from across the room.

Tara turns to find you, Chad and Ethan greeting a group of people, smiling and laughing. The group eventually trickles over to the kitchen, no doubt grabbing some drinks.

“Fine…” She mutters, sitting back down in her spot as you disappear from her sight.

Tara waits for you to come out of the kitchen for the next ten minutes; patience thinning by the second. This was ridiculous, you were literally another room away. Why is she waiting for you to come back?

As the smaller girl's eyes remain unmoving from the kitchen door, she eventually sees you walking out with an unfamiliar girl beside you. You were smiling, clearly entertained by the conversation. Tara feels an uncomfortable pang in her chest at your undivided attention towards the girl.

The Carpenter can’t help her moving legs as she stands, abandoning her cup on a random table; stalking toward you with an unrelenting gaze. Before you can even step into the living room, Tara is dragging you upstairs by the wrist; leaving the girl you were conversing with confused.

“What the hell— Tara!” You stumble behind her, desperately trying not to trip on the steps as she tugs you along with an unabated grip.

She pushes you through a random door, slamming it shut behind her. Tara crosses her arms just glaring at you.

“What’d you do that for?” You huff, feeling slightly irritated.

She raises a brow at your tone, “Wanna tell me why you’ve been distant with me lately?”

You stand straighter, “I’m not… I’ve just been busy.”

Tara chuckles dryly, “Busy enough to ignore my texts?"

You didn't answer and the scoff Tara lets out tells you it was the wrong choice to make.

"You didn't seem busy enough when you were entertaining that girl downstairs.” Tara couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth, fed up with the silence.

She sees a flash of irritation in your eyes as you cross your arms, defensive. “Are you serious? Why do you even care? You’re not my girlfriend.”

Tara’s brows raise in surprise. For a brief moment, you regretted your words as she looked slightly hurt before her face drops impassively. “I didn’t know it was a crime to be worried about your friends.”

You scoff, “Yeah friends…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” She stares at you, not believing that for a minute.

“What is going on with you?” Tara steps forward, but you take a step back. This time, the Carpenter can’t hide the frown on her lips.

“I think we should stop this…us.” You gesture between you two.

“What?” Tara's forehead creases in confusion, unsure if she heard you correctly.

“I can’t do it anymore.” You mutter, eyes trained to your shoes; unable to look her in the eyes.

“Why?” She takes a step forward, reaching for your arm but you yank back.

“Cause I caught feelings!” You shout making Tara flinch; the repressed feelings you've been hopelessly trying to bury come hurling out; unable to keep them at bay. You knew this situation would only end in heartbreak the longer it continued. So you made the decision to break your heart first before she got the chance to. “I can’t do the games anymore… I-I'm tired, Tara. I think we should stop.”

“I–I…” Tara stutters, taken aback by your confession. "Y/N... we agreed we're just hooking up."

You laugh solemnly, roughly rubbing your eyes. Was it possible to feel your own heartbreak? That's really all she had to say? "Yeah... well too late for that."

"Y/N..."

“You don’t have to say anything else. You made your feelings clear. But I caught feelings, okay? I know it wasn’t part of the plan, but it just happened. So I’m sorry, but I just need some space at the moment.”

Without waiting for a response, you brush past the smaller girl, slamming the door behind you.

Tara stands rooted in her spot, unable to move as you leave her to process what you just said.

●●●

Reader:

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #scream #scream movie #scream 6 #scream vi #jenna ortega

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brokenmachinemusings · 8 months ago

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guys idk if anyone else has but i found the link click camera. rolleiflex 2,8f aurum, a special edition. at first i thought it was a regular 2,8f rolleiflex, because most rolleiflex are black and on later models they have a very similar look; 2,8f lenses looked the most similar to link click ones. however, the sphere engraving at the top is throwing me off; maybe it’s a different brand? but that makes no sense, considering it looks like a typical rolleiflex and at the top cheng xiaoshi it literally says “polleiflex” and it has a diamond engraving. (sorry, i don’t know how to call it, i’ll just say engraving.) at the reflection of the sphere TLR (ill call them that, stands for twin-lens reflex, which is the camera type) it does turn into a diamond (if anyone has the blank version of this poster i would be grateful!), which makes me to think it was probably from the messing with timelines? which is a wild guess. but regular butterfly effects occur so much in time travel media, and in link click, too (you just haven’t realized it).

reflections… they typically tell the objective truth, don’t they? it used to be a diamond engraving so typical of most rolleiflex cameras; the logo. yet the meddling of time has skewed even that, and you can’t tell which is real and which is fake. i looked through a list of models; did it again. maybe i missed something. there are NO rolleiflex with a circle. the can spelling out “past or future, let them be” next to said TLR is even more telling. a typical warning label, one that wasn’t followed. even if you try your best, you’re bound to make a mistake or two, and suddenly all of history is altered to the point the logo (and maybe the name?) of a camera production company looks different.

you know, what’s interesting is these cameras are big on the parallax effect. due to the viewfinder being one lens, where you can look through to better capture your photograph (it’s why they were more popular than SLRs at the time, or single-lens reflex cameras), there is bound to be a mistake due to the height. well, not mistake, but the result is slightly altered; slightly skewed from how you perceive it. TLR’s also shoot in 6x6 dimensions; there’s the number 6 again. link click has a lot of repeating numbers, the most of them being especially 8 and 5, and 6 is another one. (let me redirect you to the fact li tianchen’s localized/english name is ‘vi’; not one i’m on-board with, but an interesting choice, considering that is the roman numeral for 6 and you could’ve chosen literally anything else. i’m slowly starting to believe each character has a number associated with them; cheng xiaoshi 8, li tianchen 6, and lu guang likely 5. but maybe it’s the other way around. if you’re curious, my personal belief is that we are currently in the 8th timeline.)

the model of our rolleiflex, K7F aurum, or 2.8f aurum, whichever you prefer to call it, comes out in 1983. cheng xiaoshi was likely born around 2000. well, it says 2000, but it’s unsure if that’s set in stone. which means that was 17 years prior to his birthday; his parents have well been alive at the release of this special camera.

you know what i think? i think it might be a gift, or a heirloom so to say. his parents — while we don’t know which one does more — are obviously working with photography, likely from a young age, just like him. likely bought the camera themselves, or got it gifted from someone close — either way, it ended up in time photo studio, or in cheng xiaoshi’s hands, likely stashed away. you don’t take a special edition camera out to shoot every day, do you?

well, that’s what i’m gathering anyway. it could be that cheng xiaoshi doesn’t even have such a camera — or OUR cheng xiaoshi doesn’t. it’s not explicitly shown in the donghua; like i said, either doesn’t exist yet or is hidden away somewhere. the only problem i find with it not being in cheng xiaoshi’s hands until the time comes; where does he get a rolleiflex aurum? a camera that often goes for around 4k, one that was made a good almost 40 years ago. it’s possible that the camera is meant as a simple metaphor, to represent something in the show… we don’t know what, yet, but this is just speculation.

i tend to end off my rants in a weird note, unable to think of how exactly to formulate that. i apologize in this case. thanks for reading; if you have any thoughts or any way to extend this, feel free to reblog, comment or go to my askbox. leaving the full art/posters at the end here in case anyone wants to look at them. again, if you have the clean version, please please please send it to me

(i think, a really interesting detail of this poster is that li tianchen’s on there. if you look close enough)

#link click #shiguang dailiren #shi guang dai li ren #时光代理人 #sgdlr #text #long post

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amiadahlia · 29 days ago

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Shijima Mei’s hair colour and lost time-an analysis/yap

okay so like we all know that the living Shijima Mei and the Wonder Shijima Mei have slightly different hair colours (I’m gonna refer to them as LMei and 4Mei respectively)

(Why does LMei have no fullbody sprite I’m clawing at my cage)

LMei has more orange-hued light brown/dark blonde hair, while 4Mei has lighter, very slightly shorter hair with a greener undertone.

It’s also important to note that while we do not know how long LMei was in hospital for before she died, we could very well assume it was a while, considering how used to it all she is, and how her own classmates didn’t know how she died (if the illness hospitalised her for like 2 weeks I think they’d remember)

4Mei is an idealised version of LMei, the artist with all the time in the world that she wants to be. Dark blonde hair just gets darker and more brown over time, and while not at a super great speed, I do think the idea that 4Meis hair represents the time LMei has lost in hospital to be plausible.

Similairly, when her hair is styled in plaits, it appears shorter, while LMeis hair is overgrown and not very freshly cut.

Idk I just always found their appearance differences very interesting. I too want my hair to be slightly lighter again Mei, me too.

#shijima mei #tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #analysis #character design #shijima #mei #yap #tbhk season 2

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versevibess · 18 hours ago

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Commandress

Cassian X reader

PART FOUR

Part Three

Part Two

Part One

SUMMARY:

Now it’s Cassian’s turn to propose an offer to the Comandress. One she cannot refuse.

WARNINGS:

NOTHING BUT I PROMISE THEY’RE COMING. Okay maybe some suggestive themes idk. A bit of Azriel coming to the rescue if u squint really hard.

Feyre swirled her berry red wine around a thin glass, her grey eyes flickering to the rim as she did so. I watched carefully as her lips parted, wondering whether her next question would be for me.

We were dressed for dinner, which Mor had insisted on helping me do so, considering we would be dining out for the night. It felt slightly odd, holding a cut crystal glass of whiskey with a dagger hoisted in the band of my underwear, all whilst wearing a gown so elegant I was sure it would have grown a pair of legs and walked away from Morrigan as she reached for it. A sleek, deep red gown made from fine satin clung to the upper part of my body, the fabric below my hips becoming softly pleated before it flowed along the ground. Not only was my cleavage exposed, but so were my scars, my back.

I opted to wear my hair down.

“I heard our lovely General was kind enough to give you a tour of Velaris.” Feyre said, her head nodding towards me before she took a small sip of wine. She was wearing a crystal studded dress of midnight blue, one similar to the one she wore the day she came to retrieve me; her hair half up and half down, igniting her soft yet beautiful features.

Mor laughed from beside her, her smile bright enough to light up any room. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She followed before taking a large swig of wine. Molten gold, that’s what she was wearing.

Amren, who held no glass, lifted her eyes to meet mine. “If he aggravates you enough, girl, put that dagger to good use.” She sneered almost playfully, almost truthfully, gesturing a slender pale hand towards the imprint on my hip. She was wearing a simple slate grey blouse and trousers, only adding to the intensity of her silver glowing eyes, glimmering jewels of ruby dripping from her neck and wrists. She didn’t need extravagance to radiate power.

My eyes dragged to the dagger, then back up to the ladies. “He also took me to Illyria.” Was all I replied, my finger tracing the rim of my glass slowly.

Since he had left, I had a hollow feeling growing inside of me, one that I simply couldn’t explain. Although it had only been a mere few hours without him, it made my body and mind believe that it was forgetting something, like something was amiss. It made me feel pathetic, weak, yet I would simply rather die than have to ask why it was. I just told myself that perhaps it was the change in food making me ill, that once I was used to this all it would go away.

It was when I was in the privacy of my bathroom when focused my mind to the second time setting eyes on him after the war. That tap in my chest, I could almost feel it, like a tiny bony finger had weaved its way inside of me and prodded me firmly. As I scrubbed my arms and legs to rid myself of the dust of Illyria, I tried to think back to a time when any male had made me feel something other than disgust. And I couldn’t. Even on the battlefield, in a place so brutal and hostile and cruel, all I thought about was his face.

“And how was that?” Feyre asked with a grin, her eyes narrowing at me.

I was about to speak, perhaps tell her my thoughts on the female warriors that we had watched spar, although I was sure a High Lady had little interest in such a thing. But I was saved by the lounge room doors bursting open, revealing two and a half, already merry, Illyrian’s.

Feyre’s attention was diverted elsewhere as her mate sauntered in, a smug look plastered across his dark features, before he leant down to give her a soft kiss. I looked away as they exchanged affection, the hollow feeling which had been eating away at my flesh and bones diminishing once my eyes settled on Cassian. The realisation that perhaps it wasn’t the food making me ill made me want to vomit.

He grinned at me with a flash of white teeth, wings stretching out wide behind him before he walked over to Mor to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. I tore my eyes away, watching as Azriel stepped into the room silently, with no need to make an entrance, black shadows curling around his feet.

He gave me a nod. “Commandress.” He acknowledged with a subtle smile tugging at one side of his mouth.

“Shadowsinger.” I acknowledged in return.

I didn’t bother to stand as Cassian swanned over to my chair, considering we had spent majority of our day together. Seemingly, he had the same thought as he didn’t even do so much as to greet me; instead, he slid a hand into his pocket and fumbled around for a moment.

He threw his suede money pouch onto the cherrywood coffee table separating the High Lady and I. My eyes grew wide as the heavy metal inside clanged against the surface.

“Delivering your earnings.” He declared as the room grew silent.

He had definitely stuffed more than one hundred gold marks into that pouch.

“Keep your money, General. I’m sure you will find other ways to loose it.” I glared at him out of the corner of my eye as I spoke, standing from the armchair and gripping the bag with a tight fist.

I stepped to him, his bulging arms crossed over his chest, a sly smirk on his lips. His head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing on mine before he spoke, “you already seem to know me so well. But what you don’t know is that I always deliver on my end of the bargain.”

I tilted my head, mirroring his. “Is that right?” I asked, dropping the bag into my other hand before turning to face the rest of the circle. I raised it slightly as I took in their faces, all smug with something I was unaware of. “I suppose dinner is on me then.”

•

Dinner was not on me.

In fact, the restaurant owner, Sevenda, outright refused to let us pay.

The food was like something I had never experienced before, however I was aware that cooking poverty cuts of meat over a camp fire was hardly any comparison. I truly had to hold back a moan when I took my first bite. Even something as simple as vegetables were delectable, I could have feasted on them alone all night.

I was quiet during the dinner and although I was enjoying stuffing my face with many different delicacies, a curdling sickness had settled in the bottom of my stomach. Something didn’t feel right. Whether it was the guilt of enjoying such exotic food, or whether it was contemplating the feeling of emptiness once the General left my side, I could tell something was amiss.

Or maybe, it was the fact that Cassian’s eyes had not left my breasts all night.

I believed he thought he was slick, sitting beside me and leaning his jaw on his knuckle, averting his eyes from my chest once my attention was drawn back to him, or every time someone at the table addressed me. It was only when I caught him in the act when I spoke.

Rhysand was telling a story, so loud that he had gained the attraction of the entire restaurant. Nobodies eyes were on us as I leaned over to whisper to him,

“My eyes are up here, General.”

He nearly choked on his drink, Azriel shooting him a look of concern from across the table as he attempted to play it off. Amusement flicked inside of me as I leant back in my chair, watching as he slowly did set his drink down and did the same.

His usual bright hazel eyes had clouded over, his focus only partly on Rhysand’s war story as he leaned over to me, his shoulder brushing mine.

“I can’t help but wonder where they came from?” He purred, looking down at me with heavy eyelids, or my chest rather.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I wear leathers two sizes too small so pigs like you won’t notice them.” I sneered and he couldn’t help but tilt his head back and let out a bellowing laugh. Eyes were drawn to us, which I returned with an awkward, uneasy smile; Cassian didn’t seem to care.

Soon enough, the tables chatter died down, the usual clatter of cutlery and song of the restaurant surrounding us as we sat slouched with our bellies full. I would share occasional glances with the others, but kept my eyes on my empty plate, my thoughts heavy and swirling around my mind. I hadn’t forgotten that I had promised the General Commander an answer by tonight.

It was Morrigan who first broke the silence.

“Anyone fancy a trip to Rita’s?” She asked, excitement radiating off of her.

Although I didn’t know what Rita’s was, the thought of even walking after such a heavy delicious meal made me wince. I could think of nothing more satisfying than a hot bath and a good book before curling into a cozy bed. The thought made the hairs on my nape stand on end.

Eventually, one by one, the circle began standing from their seats and bidding goodbye. Feyre and Rhysand kindly declined Morrigan’s offer, however it seemed like Azriel and Amren were eager to move on to the next venue.

I stood from my chair, eyes raking over Cassian who did the same. He turned to me as I tucked the seat beneath the table.

“Will you be joining us?” He asked.

I shook my head immediately. “My bed is calling my name.”

He leant over and turned his head with a look of mischief plastered across his handsome face. His lips were a few moments away from brushing my ear, leaving me stood like a startled deer. “I’m sure if you listen closely enough, your bed is calling my name too.” He said softly so that only I could hear. I screwed my face up in disgust, although I couldn’t fight the pooling heat in my stomach as I swatted him away with the back of my hand.

“Pig.” I sneered. But the heat travelled from my stomach to my cheeks.

We soon trailed our way out of the restaurant, our feet padding against the cool stone brick floor until we spilled out into the crisp outside air. We stood along the pavement, the High Lady clinging to her mate for some sort of warmth as Morrigan, Amren and Azriel had already began their descent towards a large brick building with flashing lights and blaring music in the distance.

Rhysand shot Cassian a look, one that I couldn’t quite place, before he wrapped his arms around his grinning High Lady. Cassian simply shuffled his feet, his powerful wings shuddering from the cold behind him.

“We will see you soon, don’t have too much fun tonight.” Rhysand winked cheekily, before him and his mate vanished into a cloud of swirling black and violet smoke.

My hands gripped my upper arms, rubbing up and down in an attempt to gain some heated friction against the harsh winter night. “Are you joining the others?” I asked, filling the silence which had settled around us.

He peered over at the three of them growing smaller in the distance, Morrigan swaying from side to side as she interlinked arms with Amren and Azriel. “Eventually.” He said, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked back down at me. “Let me walk you home first.”

My eyebrows knitted together, “if you believe I am incapable of walking home on my own then you are asking the wrong person to help lead your armies.” I said, the sickness in my gut twisting tighter with the more words I spoke. Perhaps I would arrange to see a healer in the morning.

He raised his eyebrows, lips stretching out into a wolfish grin. “You must really want to climb those ten thousand steps.” He remarked.

I rolled my eyes, once again, completely forgetting the unnecessary height of that House.

“Fine.”

“Would you like to walk or fly, sweetheart?” He asked, steps training just behind mine; I could hear the stupid grin he had on his lips. That stupid, handsome, grin.

“Let’s walk.”

I had been so caught up in the beauty of Velaris at night that I paid no heed to the harsh breeze ripping at my hair, brushing the strands over my shoulder. I was too busy watching the fae playing music in the streets, watching the star dusted sky stretch high over the mountains. We didn’t have the privilege of such a view back at Creta, just white sky’s with the occasional bit of sun in the spring and summers, the prime time for hunting. It felt strange to know I wouldn’t have to do that again.

Cassian fell quiet behind me, and I was none the wiser that my ink and scar ridden back was on full display to him, too consumed by the scenery around me. My breath caught in my throat as I realised, jaw clenching as we rounded a corner and I swiftly brushed my tendrils of hair back over my shoulder. Perhaps it was too dark for him to see.

“I see you found your tattoo.”

I wanted to scream at his words. Those black wings that I stared at for too long each night, with both malice and awe. A taunt and a gift. I didn’t respond to him, instead picked up my pace, eager to spot the House in the distance.

“You said you would have a decision for me.” He said again, despite my silence.

My lips rolled inwards as that same dreaded sickness coiled in my gut, my steps coming to an abrupt halt. I looked at him and narrowed my eyes. “I will stay, but I wish to tell the High Lord and Lady on Solstice eve. As long as my people are cared for properly, I no longer mind where I wind up.” I responded curtly. “But I want you to answer me one thing, Cassian.” I watched as his face faltered slightly at the firm use of his name. “You watched me in that battle for a mere few minutes between carving the heads off of the Kings soldiers, you have men that you have watched fight your whole life - you didn’t even ask to see me spar whilst we were in Illyria. So why me? Why choose me as your second when you know so little about me?” My head tilted to the side as I spoke, my eyes never leaving his as my words fell from my lips with such sturdiness it sounded as if I was scolding him.

Dark pupils flickered over my face for a moment; he was reading me. My nerves sparked along my bones in anticipation to his answer, his throat bobbing, forehead creased, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he parted them to speak.

Yet he didn’t, instead, he reached for my hand.

He held it as if it was fragile, as if it was made from the thinnest daintiest glass. I furrowed my eyebrows as he placed my fingers along the left side of this chest, below his armour. He was warm, firm, and through the mountain of muscle I could feel the soft patter of his heart. It wasn’t racing, yet it wasn’t steady. Almost as if it was trying to tell me something.

“I felt it in here.” He said and I could tell he was as nervous as I was, those silver wires of tension appearing and beginning fray between us once again. If it were any other circumstance, any other male, I would have perhaps scoffed, laughed at the thought of it; but I could tell it was genuine. “The moment I saw you, amongst the chaos, the blood, the brutality of it all, when I saw you take that soldiers head off his shoulders as if it was effortless; I pictured you, training our warriors, guiding our females.” I felt his heart slow beneath my palm with his words. It was the bare honest truth.

His hazel eyes, still so bright despite the darkness of night, met mine as if he was searching for something. I could feel the sickness that had raked through my body begin to settle, the pounding of my heart in my ears a mirror to his.

“I will lead your women to success.” I breathed, rather overwhelmed with it all. “I promise.”

His lips turned upwards and I had grown oblivious to the fae who strolled past and gawked at the Generals presence, who gawked at my hand on his heart.

“And in return, I may have a gift for you.” My hand slid from his chest, the clammy skin of my palm subtly rubbing against the material of my dress.

“May?” I questioned, beginning to step slowly again in hopes that he would now walk beside me.

His eyes remained focused ahead, his throat bobbing and I watched as his shoulders tense slightly. I took the moments silence as an opportunity to appreciate the fine rugged features he possessed.

He swallowed. “My wings were shredded during the war,” he started, and my eyes flickered to the dark leather like skin of his wings which stood proudly behind him. The sentence alone was enough to make my skin crawl from memory, the feeling of my wings being grated from my back whilst still entirely conscious, a time I wished to forget. “Rhysand and Azriel didn’t believe they would heal, were grasping at whatever they could possibly find to help me when they came across a healer from overseas.”

My breath hitched in my throat.

“I got in contact with her the moment Rhysand returned and told me your story. It is a horrific, brutal process, but people have lived to tell the tale of how their wings have regrown as mighty and as strong as before.” My eyes began to burn. “She is a hard lady to come across, and charges a high price at that, but if it means that the General Commandress has a chance to teach our Illyrian young how to fly, it is a price I am willing to pay.”

I outstretched my hand, grasping the taught skin of his arm exposed between his different layers of leather and a wave of emotion washed over me. His siphons flared bright from the contact. “Please,” my voice wavered, and I had to take a deep breath before I continued. “I assure you I am too far gone, but please send her to a mother, a young female who has been brutalised-“

“- I can’t,” his hair flowed around his face as his head shook. “She will not treat just anyone, for her own safety. The process takes so much of her power that she is only able to treat so many and if the tradition struck males who still continue the practice find out such a thing is happening, they will try to kill her.”

I couldn’t speak, and if I did I would only cry.

He looked at me one last time before we reached the House, yet even then I still couldn’t find the words to express how I felt.

It was once he was flying me up those ten thousand stairs, the air tunnelling in around us, the night sky our only witness as my grip around his neck and shoulders tightened. He looked to me with concern, the beat of his wings slowing as I nodded. Nodded with tears brimming in my eyes, and I could have sworn I felt that tap beneath my chest once again.

•

A horrible, brutal process. That’s how he described it.

I described it as a painful, slow transition into death.

Within a matter of a few days, Cassian and Rhysand had left to seek out the healer, and bought back an elderly female who spoke very little words.

Hunched beside my bed in a hood of charcoal grey, her spindly fingers tugged and pulled at my aching bones, prodded at the fire ignited beneath my skin. She offered no pain relief, no special tea to ease the burning of my skin or my muscle which felt as if it was being picked away from my flesh.

I laid there for two solid days, unable to bathe, unable to eat or drink or even do as much as open my eyes for longer than a few seconds. It was as if the treatment had drained every ounce of energy, every drip of soul and life out of my body and scattered it along the streets of Velaris. She hardly mumbled two words to me during the trauma of it all, she only told me that once she was finished, I would sleep.

Everyone had tried to visit, which I could only decipher who from the sounds of their voices, my black spotted vision merging all of their faces into one. And even then I had a difficult time, the ringing in my ears like a choir of screaming children from the moment it began, to the moment it finished.

The only remedy gifted to me for my pain was Cassian.

He came once it began, and came just before I fell into darkness; sprawled along the bed beside me with his boots dangled over edge. I remember the flashes of his face in my distant memory, the way he looked down at me and swiped the hair from my sweat beaded forehead, how once I began to shiver he had lifted the covers over my trembling convulsing body; despite the healers protests.

Although I could hardly decipher the words he spoke to me during that time, I could remember as my eyes drifted open and closed that his mouth moved and he said,

“The General Commandress of the Night Court,”

Before his lips brushed my temple and he left one last time.

•

My sticky eyelids peeled open, a soaring ache shooting through my spine once I gained consciousness. At first I believed I was dead, that the heavenly view of Velaris from the arched bedroom window was a result of my soul leaving my body and entering the over world. But I was very much alive, and all of this was real.

I blinked a couple of times, fingers twitching beneath the sweat saturated sheets until they gained back some sensation. My breath was shallow, shuddering and warm.

And then I saw it from the corner of my eye, creeping into my vision like a shadow. Black membrane, delicately stretched over wires of bone; veins like thunderbolts in the nights sky; new muscles beneath my shoulder blades which twitched with every strained movement.

I couldn’t even look at them, my eyes immediately screwing closed as nothing but joy escaped them. Hot salty tears streamed down my flushed cheeks, slipping into the corners of my dry mouth. With every shudder of my shoulders, pain shot through my body like arrows being twisted through muscle, and yet the pain was welcomed. Something I had dreamt of since they were carved from my body, something I never deemed could be possible before my very eyes. And I couldn’t even look.

Eventually, as my sobs turned into quiet gasps and my shoulders grew still, my eyes slowly trailed from my clenched trembling fists to the great wing draped from the side of the bed and along the grey stone floors. I twisted my torso, and despite the pain, they shuddered; the sound like the echo of a storm along a cabin roof, powerful and mighty.

I could have kept my eyes strained on them for hours and still believe it wasn’t real. No matter how much I twisted and turned and tensed that new found muscle in my back, making them flinch and flutter along the floor, I couldn’t believe it was real.

My curiosity got the better of me, the creaking bones in my legs shifting from the bed until my feet grazed the ground softly. I winced and hissed as I planted my feet on the ground, hauling the heavy weight of my wings like a sack of bricks slung over each shoulder. My knees caved at first, my backside hitting the bed and almost flattening the mattress with the added weight of my muscle. But I tried again, and again, until I was finally able to stand.

Determination pushed through my veins as I took that first step, wings dragging along the floor behind me. I could feel the spirit of my mother slap me on the back of the head, ‘lazy thing,’ she would scold me if I let them anywhere near close to the ground. I used the bedposts to haul my weight towards the bathroom, my hand slamming down heavily on top of the door handle as I reached the threshold of the bedroom. I near crawled to the sink.

Starring back at me through glitter like glass, were my wings. Although they still skimmed the cool ivory tiles of the bathroom, peaks of high muscle towered high above my head, much higher than Rhysand’s, Azriel’s, Cassian’s. Goosebumps coated my body as my eyes trailed to the apex, where bone like talons should have pointed towards my head. Yet there wasn’t any to be seen, instead, glowing bright crystals of emerald green, emeralds which seemed to flicker with every twinge of pain in my body.

Siphons. My talons had been replaced with siphons.

My mind burned as I focused on them, eyes narrowed at the near foreign reflection which starred back at me. And as if the wings themselves held a mind of their own, two threads of glowing green light poured from the tips and laced around the widest points; outstretching them so wide that they almost skimmed the walls of the spacious bathroom.

For the first time in what seemed an eternity, a smile of genuine happiness spread across my face, excitement and nerves all bundled into one spinning and erupting inside of me like a flame to liquor.

My happiness, my wings.

•

Azriel had found me clawing at the stairs in my night wear, attempting to find my way to a hot meal and a very strong glass of whiskey.

I was in absolutely no state to be seen by the circle, however considering they had watched me wither in the same sweat stained clothes for three consecutive days, I no longer cared.

Those days before the healer came, I had grown closer to the group; it was as if I was slowly slotting into place. My mornings would consist of sparring with Cassian, treading the ice crusted Illyrian grounds and throwing grimaces towards the Commander of Windhaven; by night, we would all bound together to eat dinner and share stories until our eyes grew tired and our glasses were no longer full.

My family by flesh and blood had died so long ago; majority of my soldiers joining them high above the clouds in the over world. It seemed like the Mother was gifting me opportunity upon opportunity to be surrounded by love and warmth. And here, I no longer had to care for everyone. Instead, I was cared for. It had been years since I had indulged in such a rich feeling.

Azriel’s arm clasped clasped below the stem of my wings, his fingers pressed into my side as he slowly lowered me to each step with a shaky breath, almost as if he was afraid he may hurt me. Each time my foot would hover in the air, he’d count down from three, bracing me for the strain which would shoot from my feet, all the way to my wings. He was a dark soul, yet a quiet one; gentle, almost.

Once he set eyes on my wings for the first time, the look on his face was priceless; bulging sockets with a mouth hung wide open, I had wished Cassian was there to see it. It was the most emotion I had ever seen on him, it made pride swell in my chest.

He hoisted me to the sitting room, although I had healed enough to make a few pathetic steps, and swung the heavy doors open with what seemed like an effortless push. I raised my eyebrows at the motion, my mind still partially hazy from the trauma which had been inflicted on my body.

The High Lord let out a low whistle at the sight, Feyre’s eyes practically rolling out of her head and onto the polished marble floor beneath her.

“And they say an Illyrian males length could be determined by his wingspan.” Rhysand said beneath his breath.

“Don’t listen to him.” Azriel muttered through gritted teeth.

I shot the High Lord a glare, which he simply winked at in response.

Azriel settled me into a chair which faced the two fae, briskly walking off to retrieve my glass of aged liquor and a hot plate of food. I grumbled and groaned as I shifted, my wings draped along both arms of the plush velvet seat and fluttering along the cool floor.

Feyre’s eyes darted over my face. “How are you feeling?” She asked, yet answered her own question shortly after. “You look rather well - in fact, you’re glowing.” She beamed her pearly white teeth.

I almost glared at her, but I pulled back the muscles in my face before I could. “I feel like I’ve been shot with one thousand arrows.” I murmured, my lips pressing into a firm line of thanks as Azriel set a crystal cut glass into my palm, filled three-quarters of the way with amber liquid.

I threw it back in one gulp. It didn’t even touch the sides.

My head nodded towards the High Lord as Azriel disappeared once again, as quiet as a cat.

“You can remove the tattoo now that I have my wings.” I said.

He furrowed his eyebrows, his bottom lip curling outwards as he looked towards his mate.

Feyre’s posture straightened slightly, lips mewled together as she looked down at her slender hands clasped in her lap.

I raised my eyebrows at her.

“I gave you the tattoo.” Was all she said.

My mouth fell open slightly, head jolting to rearrange my thoughts.

“What?” I asked.

Azriel walked back in, a bowl of stew with crusted bread plated at its side in his grasp. He settled it down on the coffee table before me, a spoon just beside it, lining up almost perfectly. He stalked around the back of my chair to find a pew of his own.

“You didn’t make a bargain with Rhys, simply agreed to come to our court… It was me who made a bargain with you.”

Her words failed to register in my brain. All of a sudden my roaring hunger had vanished.

“Well,” she chuckled to herself, rather satisfactory, “I made a bargain with myself regarding you.” She explained, however I remained in the dark, absolutely none the wiser.

My mouth opened to speak, yet no words came out.

I went to breathe, but the breath got caught in my throat.

“I promised myself that you would find true happiness here, that I would not rest until your heart was content.”

My face had entirely twisted with confusion. I almost thought she must have believed I was ungrateful to have my wings back. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

A mischievous smile etched its way to her lips, her shimmering grey eyes meeting mine through her thick lashes as she slowly stirred her tea.

“It seems to me as though your heart isn’t entirely full yet.”

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