#if I make it past one round I will EXPLODE

[aimless-aimz]

Um. Found out that my guys are going against @cosmicwhoreo’s Vezzpa. i’m so done BUT this gives me an excuse to say “VEZZYSWEEP” once i’m knocked out!!

bonus:

oops.

(I might draw more vezzpa later because she is so shape and I love the design more than I should aaljsbdjabdjsk just needed to get these sketches out)

@kirbyoctournament (guys when the voting starts PLEASE don’t let it be a landslide give me a chance here/nf /j alalsksbjsdl)

[monstersholygrail]

Imagine an entire bird colony of all male Bird Hybrids where you are their dancing instructor.

Every bird in the colony is absolutely feral over you. They desire you so much to the point where they started taking your class to learn how to woo possible mates but now they only wanna use what they learn on you.

They’ll do the steps wrong on purpose so that they can feel your soft hands on them when you correct it. Wishing you’d slip your hands further down till your thick fingers wrap around their aching cocks. You just smell so good and consume all their senses. Their adorable chirps fill the air whenever you give them any attention, their minds spinning with you.

Sometimes they’ll act like they aren’t getting it no matter what. You all know what’s going on and you’re not too shy to admit you love the attention they give you back. Your panties gushing with arousal as their eyes are trained on your every move.

So you tease them further. Inviting them to grab your hips and feel the way you move into the step, grinding against them every now and then. Loving the way their faces always drop, staring down at your wide hips and round bottom. Their feathers ruffling and wings flapping as they get more turned on. They try not to make it obvious but it makes you so hot to see how deeply you affect them.

By the end of every class all the bird hybrid’s cocks are rock hard and they’re in desperate need of you. They try anything they can think of to get you to stay after class with them. Showering you in affection they now want to drown in you in unimaginable pleasure. Stuffing your tight cunt over and over again with their cocks. Filling you up with all their cum till your belly bulges with it.

You always look so pretty underneath them. Especially as a handful of them always seemed to get you to agree to stay after. One after the other they take you hard, each of them coming inside of you until you’re all fucked out and cum is leaking into a puddle between your thick thighs. Of course they take the best care of you after.

After months of this you had realized that this colony was the only one you were teaching. And the bird hybrids make sure to keep it that way as they fill up all your available slots. Anyone can be competition and they don’t want your attention on another colony. Not that it ever would. You’re more than happy with the affection they constantly show you.

You always have more mating gifts than you know what to do with. Sometimes they give you pretty pebbles or other brightly covered objects. Other times they give you adorable little twigs and materials for a nest you don’t have. But they wanna help take care of you anyway. Then some give you food, wanting to keep your plump body healthy by making sure you’re eating good.

But the feathers that fall off their wings throughout class are your favorite. You put them up on the walls for decoration. The bird hybrids preen whenever they see their feather on the wall, viewing it as their claim on you. They boast to the other birds but then others point out that their feather is up there too and they turn playful as they try and say their feather is longer or fluffier.

Eventually they go to you, thinking that if they can’t prove they’re the better mate through their feathers, they can see which one can make you cum harder. It takes hours for them to come to any sort of agreement as they each use their fingers, tongues, and cocks to make you explode around them long past till you’re seeing stars.

They come from a place of love above all. Wanting to please you, their mate, more than anything. They’d do whatever they could to make that happen as caring for you is what they enjoy most.

I will literally beg for asks about them!! They’ve been a brainrot for me just about all week now. I’d love to see others expand on them and the idea. Or even just to join in the freak out and gush about the fluffy guys together!

[randomshyperson]

Wanda holding hands 13 bc Ur smut is the best :D

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: linking hands together during sex | warnings: (+18) smut.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Wanda lets out a giggle at your nervousness, sitting on your thighs, her hands resting on your stomach, she stares at you, her head slightly tilted.

"Are you questioning my magical abilities?" she counters your question with another one, receiving an offended snort in return.

"Of course not!" You mutter. You were looking at her before, but ended up looking down, where the toy conjured by the witch attached to your waist vibrates softly as if it were as desperate to feel her as you were half an hour ago when you both stumbled inside the rented room at the Harkness Mansion, where Wanda has been learning all sorts of magic for the past few months. Clearly, she has learned other interesting things, outside of the mandatory curriculum.

Your hands caress her thighs, but Wanda still notices the tension in your shoulders. She softens her gaze in your direction.

"It feels good, doesn't it? No need to worry." She rations, pleased to see you bite your lip as she tentatively caresses the plastic member. When you gasp at the stimulation, she feels a twinge of pride at her successful spell, too. "You can trust me."

"I trust you, darling." You assure her, a little out of breath and sweaty. It's round two already, and Wanda just proved her point by groping your new magical member, a squeeze that almost makes you lose your train of thought. "It's me I don't trust. What are we going to do about my strength? Are you sure-"

"That's exactly why I'm on top, silly." She cuts you off, adjusting herself on your lap in a way that brings her heat right where you want her. Your grip on her thighs tightens just enough to bruise. It's her time to bite her lip. With a deep breath, she stares at your eyes. "You just need to relax, and let me take charge. I bet you'll love it."

It's your turn to look at her adoringly. "Of course I will, it's you." You comment romantically, earning a shy smile from her. But then, there's a shift in her gaze. Wanda is still looking in your eyes as she adjusts the toy into her own entrance, teasing gently before slowly sinking down. She's able to feel every inch, filling her up to the bottom.

Your hands leave her thighs to grip the sheets, and she smiles breathlessly at your visible difficulty in keeping still, your jaw tensing as your stomach muscles tighten.

"See? I told you I'd like it." She teases, still getting used to the sensation of being full. She's pleased to know she got the size right, even though she can't help but imagine trying a bigger one in the future. "I'm going to start moving now, okay baby?"

But her body was betraying her. She was still quite sensitive, coming twice before for your fingers and tongue, she didn't imagine she'd be so affected so quickly when she switched to the toy. But the sensation was truly overwhelming. It was really different to feel you filling her like that, and in the attempt to grind against your lap, her body protested, as ready for climax as she had been when she started.

You came to her rescue immediately. Sitting, one of your hands brushed her hair away from her face, to get a better look at her before kissing her. Your other hand went down, wrapping around her waist and taking control of her movements. Wanda rewarded you with an affected moan against your lips, her thighs trembling on either side of your body as you forced her hips to move against yours. She didn't want to come so fast, but she couldn't help it. Being held like this, she felt so safe and loved that the knot in her lower belly exploded almost at the same moment you whispered "I got you, lovely". 

In the ecstasy of her own climax, she didn't notice your determination to hold back, unable to surrender without worries. It was only when she calmed down, breathless and still trying to get back into orbit, that she realized. Hugging you by the neck, she kissed your skin before speaking again. "I told you to trust me."

You sigh, caressing her back with open palms. "I do, but I don't want to hurt you." You murmur. Despite being bigger than Wanda, you suddenly seem very small. "Every muscle is amplified by the serum, Wands, you know that. I'm afraid I might-"

She cuts you off with a determined kiss. Wet and rough, it makes you gasp and grab her cheeks, pulling away for air. Wanda arches her back, teasing and baiting you, the image of her naked figure making you gasp. You stare at where your bodies connect, but don't move.

She grinds, and you groan. "Jesus, Wanda."

"You won't hurt me, I promise." She assures you, equally affected, having trouble keeping her eyes on you, her brow furrowed due to the roughness of her own hips' movements. Doing this, you kept hitting a sensitive spot inside her, and it was a hard feeling to ignore in order to speak. "It's part of the magic. Can you, for all that is holy, trust what I'm saying?"

You don't contradict, mainly because you're unable to hold back when Wanda is riding you so eagerly. You tense up then, panicking once you feel your climax reaching you, but to no avail, it's your attempt at holding it. An animalistic moan rips its way through your throat, and you grab Wanda's waist, holding her in place as you empty yourself inside her. She whines affectly, grabbing your shoulders as she feels the hot shot inside her. 

For a second, not only the toy soften but your body too, going heavy on her. She holds both of you to the bed with her thighs around your waist, a hand caressing your hair as she tries to ignore the way your cock is still pulsing and leaking inside her.

“Need a break, baby?” She asks softly but you groan deeply, hands suddenly firming around her to flip both of you in bed. She gasps when her back hits the mattress, but her surprise is turned into something else when you pound into her with strength. “Fuck.”

Her hands fell into the bed with the shifting in the position, and Wanda's eyes widened a little when you reached for them, holding them together above her head.

This was new and Wanda was definitely not complaining.

“We should have tried this ages ago.” You say, your voice husky due to the efforts and the previous orgasms. Wanda thinks you look beautiful like this, out of breath while you fuck her. “I could be gentle but… something tells me you don't want me to.”

Your free hand moves down to flick her swollen clit between your fingers and Wanda cries out, her back arching on the bed. You smirk, adjusting just so you could move the toy that slipped out back inside her.

There's a quick teasing from your part, pushing just the tip of the toy into her overstimulated dripping pussy, but sooner than later, you push all the way inside. Cursing under your breath as Wanda fights against the hold on her hands. She wants to hold you so badly that it physically consumes her and you end up pitying her pleasing eyes and needy moans. 

But you don't free her hands, instead, you entrelaces your fingers together in a deep grip that anchors her when your movements resume.

The pounding is rough, it cracks the bed and takes Wanda to a state of colorful eyes and magic emanation. The only noises in the room are the shared moaning and the obscene sounds of your cock pushing into her aching heat, the moisture of your last climax leaking into the bed. When she comes, all the lights in the bedroom flash. You follow her this time, groaning into her neck as you come. 

For a second, none of you are able to say anything, all but breathless gasps leaving your lips. Then, there's a shared giggle, and your fingers, still interlaced, squeeze before letting go, only for you to remove the sweaty hair away from her face.

“Hey, you.” She smiles at your words, tired eyes threatening to close as she looks at you. “Enjoying yourself aren't you?”

“Don't tease me, when you're just whining three seconds ago.” She retorts, getting a chuckle from you. Wanda let her hands cross behind your neck. “Wanna join me in the shower?”

“Honey, if I ever say no to that, you can bet I lost my mind for good.” You joke, muffling her and giggling with your mouth.

[moonchildstyles]

strawberry

pomegranate part three: y/n goes on a date and harry has a migraine. but she comes back.

wordcount: 9k

—————

"H? Where are you?" 

Harry, with his eyes reading the label on a can of enchilada sauce, called over the partition of the aisle, "Over here, (Y/N)." 

Just as quickly, he heard pattering footsteps rounding the endcap and heading right towards him. When she had wandered off for laundry detergent and a new book, she had left him with empty hands. Now, she had returned with no laundry detergent, but two books, a bag of chocolate covered fruit, and a jar of honey with the comb floating through the amber. 

"Look, look," she chattered, racing towards him with the jar of honey extended, "It's the kind with the honeycomb in it, look." 

A soft smile touched Harry's lips. He took the jar as if receiving a gracious gift, replacing all of his attention on the label instead of the dinner list he had been working on. 

He hummed a pleased noise at the sight of the honey. "'S like the ones in the video—with the fancy cheese and all." 

"That's what I was thinking!" 

While Harry was interested in making one of the recipes (Y/N) had sent him many videos of, seeing the smile on her face when he dropped the jar in the basket was worth much more. Even when they started down the aisle, (Y/N)'s face in her phone looking up recipes they could try out with her new find, Harry couldn't get that smile out of his head. 

Though it was a delusion he wasn't fond of letting himself live in, he swore something had changed after that kiss a couple of weeks earlier. He couldn't be sure if he was just searching for something special to be growing between them, but it was hard to recall moments that she had smiled at him like that before they had kissed. 

He swore she'd never looked at him with moony eyes like that. That she'd never stretched her grin that wide before. That every time she reached out to him, felt his skin under her palms, that something sparkled in her eyes. 

Harry was inclined to assume those details were things he only saw because he wanted to see them, but she had kissed him back just as intensely. More often than not, sleepovers were shared either in his bedroom or out in the living room of their home, (Y/N) always finding her way into his space, just short of wrapping her limbs around him. Kisses on his cheek was the norm, something shared any time they were to be apart for longer than a few hours. Even their television nights on the couch were dotted with thighs pressed together, legs draped over his lap, her head on his shoulder. She wasn't even soft and sleepy when she started melting all over him, she just wanted to be close to him. 

But, much like the first time they'd done anything more, they hadn't discussed a single moment of that night on the couch. Not when she had been on her knees before him, how he'd confessed to building a home for her right in the forefront of his mind, or the loss of control he had when he pressed his lips to hers just after he'd cum in her mouth. 

Every pining affection he held for her was now turned up to max volume. His nights were plagued by the idea of her climbing into the bed right with him, whether to give into more of his fantasies or just to rest her head on his chest. She was slowly but surely backing him into a corner where there was nowhere for him to run. The space in his heart was becoming cramped the more of her she was able to sneak inside. Harry worried just how much longer he was going to be able to keep his head on straight and react like a normal roommate before he was going to explode and spill all his guts out for her to see.

"H, look!" (Y/N)'s chirping voice brought Harry back to the middle of the supermarket, her phone being shoved in his face. On the screen was a bubbling wheel of cheese with sweet honey and crisped prosciutto, crusty bread dipped into the paste. "Do you think we could do this?! Is there brie here?" 

Peering at her over the top of her phone, a small smile curled the corners of his mouth. He was going to do anything she asked of him, even something as simple as finding a cheese for her. 

Because Harry loved her. He doubted there was ever a time he didn't. 

"'M sure we can find something." 

Her rewarding smile was enough for him. He'd pretend it was just for him.

—————

Harry groaned, rolling in his sheets with his pillow fluffed under his head. Despite the curtains drawn, his eyes pinched shut and noise cancelling headphones over his ears, his bedroom needed to be darker and quieter. If not, he feared his brain was going to squeeze itself out of his ears. 

Work wasn't even that stressful today, especially since he'd worked remotely for the day. There was no real reason that there should be any kind of pressure building behind his eyes. 

He just wanted to sleep. Hopefully, when he woke up this migraine would be over.

A gentle hand landing on his shoulder, pinched that hope out of his mind. Muffled through the silence of his headphones, he heard the syllables of his name. 

Taking in a balancing deep breath, Harry forced his eyes to crack open. He twisted in his sheets, finding (Y/N) hovering above him. Concern swam in her eyes, her lips set in a thin line. 

As he figured, her makeup was swept in pretty pinks and mauves over her skin. Her eyes shimmered with flecks of glitter, lashes fluttering wisps. Her hair was done, twisted out of her face with stray strands framing her face. The heart-shaped locket around her neck dangled down above him.

He didn't have to scan over her to know the dress she had picked out for the night. She had asked him a million times yesterday which one of the outfits she had in her closet would work best for her date tonight. 

For her fancy date. Her first with some blonde-haired man she met on an app.

The reminder was enough to have another surge of pressure bubbling inside his skull. 

Inching one of the cups of his headphones off of his ear, Harry quietly hummed in question. 

"How are you? Are you feeling any better?" (Y/N) whispered, her voice low enough to not trigger any extra pain in his head. 

"Not really," he muttered, his voice graveled from disuse.

Her lips puffed into a pout. "H," she murmured, her voice drawling in a croon, "Is there anything you need? Anything I can grab before I go?" 

A dull throb pounded against his skull. 

"'M alright." 

(Y/N) looked far from convinced. He watched as she pinched her lips between her teeth. 

She didn't say much before she climbed into bed beside him. Her hair piled against his pillow, her breath fanning across his skin as she settled in. 

"Can I stay here before I leave?" 

Her eyes met his with clear intensity. Everything was soft as she gazed at him, brows downturned in concern with her iris melting before him. 

He only nodded, eyes fluttering closed. 

Harry felt her arms wrap around him only a moment later. Her forehead gently rested on his when she pulled him closer, the very tips of their noses grazing one another. For the first time all afternoon, his splitting headache dulled just enough. 

The pile of blankets around his hips felt cold in comparison to her hold. Her fingers driving through the curls on the back of his neck had his muscles melting, his bones loosening after being wound so tight for so long. 

A soft sigh fell from his lips. 

With his eyes still closed, Harry could only feel the heat of her skin as she drew closer. The tip of her nose brushed the bridge of his own just before the touch disappeared, replaced with the soft of her glossed lips landing in the same spot. She dotted kisses down his nose, to the apple of his cheek, to the very corner of his mouth. 

He couldn't help but lean into her affection. He'd missed this—despite only having her kiss once, he missed it like he'd left behind a childhood comfort. Her touch was a balm to his nerves, soothing even his migraine. 

One hand on the back of his neck slid around until she had his cheek cupped in her palm. She thumbed away the sparkling kiss marks she no doubt made in her wake. 

"I'm going to miss you tonight, H." 

Then stay.

His heart ached more than his head when he choked back the instinctive words. Even with the sweet press of her lips and graze of her hands over his skin, she was going on a date tonight. 

This was just how she expressed her care for him now, with all of these barriers of touchy-affection broken down. 

Forcing himself to pull back, Harry cracked his eyes open. He looked at her, sparkling eyes and frowning lips. 

"I'll miss you, too," he confessed, unsure if she felt the weight he attached to his words, "What time do y'have to leave?" 

It was her turn to sigh, the exhale pushing her perfume towards him in a vanilla plume. "Probably now." 

He gave her a smile that he hoped didn't give away just how sad he was. "Excited?" 

(Y/N) nodded, only a lopsided smile touching her mouth. "I'll be home soon, though. Call me if you need me to pick anything up for you, okay?" 

It was Harry's turn to tip his chin in a nod. 

With only the sound of the sheets rustling around their bodies, (Y/N) gave him one last hug before peeling away. She crawled out of his bed with Harry's eyes following her. 

She crossed his room with her dress flaring around her hips. Stopping in the threshold, she turned to look at him once more. 

"I made some spaghetti noodles for you if you're hungry, but if you want something from the restaurant, let me know." Her lips bloomed into a soft smile, though Harry didn't see the same warmth light her eyes. "I'll see you soon." 

"Have fun, (Y/N)." 

She didn't offer any cheeky promise the way she would have only weeks ago when embarking on a date. (Y/N)'s smile lingered on him for a passing moment before she left him be. 

Absently, while lying amongst his sheets, Harry heard her movements through the home. He didn’t have to see her to know that she was tracking down her shoes, spritzing a final spray of perfume, fluffing her hair and reapplying her lip gloss. Usually, he enjoyed watching these finishing touches, he thought it was cute how much effort she put into nights like these—even if he wasn't really a fan of the fact she was out meeting someone else. 

But, tonight, he almost wanted to rise from his bed like a zombie and catch her mid-haste. Stop her and force her to come back to his crypt to keep her forever. 

Nonetheless, the sound of the door swinging open only to be clicked shut a moment later filled the house. 

A throb rang through his head. 

He just needed to sleep.

—————

Slouched under a pile of blankets on the sofa, Harry almost wished he still had his migraine. That way he would have at least been distracted from watching the ticking time on his phone, the minutes pushing the night on later and later. 

And, (Y/N) still wasn't home. 

While he wasn't apt to admit it aloud, Harry knew tonight was the trigger for his migraine. The idea of (Y/N) all dressed up, sitting across from another over candlelight, flirting and playing footsie under the table, had his stomach roiling. He couldn't get himself to regret any moment spent with (Y/N), especially between the sheets or with her on her knees before him, but it definitely had to be the catalyst that was pushing him to take this first date so personal. 

That's what he deserved, messing around with his roommate who only thought of him as such. 

The pint of ice cream he plucked from the freezer was beginning to form a soup in the cardboard confines, unable to stomach any more of the comfort treat. It was nine p.m. and she still wasn't home. 

She would have texted him if she was planning on spending the night elsewhere, though. That was something she always did. She wouldn't have forgotten about him. Right?

Like an answer to unspoken prayers, the sound of the garage door lifting shuddered through the house. Twisting in his spot, he watched as she swept inside, her hair loose from its earlier constraints and her mouth in a thin line. 

(Y/N) didn't spot him at first, most likely figuring he was still holed up in his room. He watched as she dropped her bag from her shoulder, her jaw in a stern line. She definitely didn't have that shy, pleased expression he usually did after a first date gone well. No sheepish smile as she plucked her phone from her purse, no dreamy run of her hand through her hair. No smear of lipstick over the corner of her mouth, kissed away from another. 

He didn't interrupt her as she unhooked her shoes by the front door, the heels creating a mess he would later take care of. Only when she started, bare feet barely stomping against the floor, Harry piped up. 

"(Y/N)?" 

Practically jumping out of her skin, she let out an airy gasp. Her hand fluttered to the base of her throat, eyes wide as she spun on her toes. 

"H? I didn't think you'd be awake." 

Harry didn't want to get ahead of himself, but he swore he saw the tight lines on her face loosen. Her expression folded into curved lines and rounded edges. Eyes lighting as they met his. 

"Sorry," he muttered, a single dimple denting his cheek as a soft smile pulled his lips, "I didn't mean to scare you." 

"It's okay," she immediately waved off, half heartedly tossing her bag into her room before rushing towards his cocoon on the sofa, "How are you feeling? Does your head still hurt?" 

"'M alright," he shared, unfolding the edges of his many blankets to allow her underneath, "It went away a little while ago. After I ate." He gave her a pointed glance, nudging her shoulder with his to pull a small smile out of her. "Thank you for that." 

She shook her head. "Of course. I felt bad leaving you, but I'm happy you're better. What have you been doing?" 

Harry felt the presence of the half melted ice cream behind him like a confession. "Nothing really. Jus' watching some movies," he smiled, adjusting his position to keep her from spotting the confection on the side table behind him, "How was your date?" 

Just like that, her expression dropped. A familiar roll of her eyes had her features pinching. 

"He was the worst, H," she shared, melting into the cocoon of blankets he offered her, laying her head back on the cushions of the couch, "The worst." 

There was a traitorous spark of joy that fluttered in his chest. What kind of friend was happy to hear that someone they cared about had a bad night? 

"What happened?" 

With an exasperated shake of her head, she started listing off on her fingers, "Didn't let me talk for more than a sentence. Ordered my food for me without asking. Told me my lipstick reminded him of his mom—but he still thought it was hot, I guess. Asked me how many people I've slept with. And, if I thought he was hotter in person or in his pictures." 

Harry blinked. His jaw fell open.

"And thats just what I can remember," (Y/N) pressed, "I'm scared more happened and I just blocked it out." 

"(Y/N)," Harry started, total awe painting his features, "I... I don't think y'should use that app anymore." 

A breathy laugh fell from her lips. "Tell me about it. I just don't get it, H. I know it's not all men, but why are all men like this?!" Her contradictory question pulled a plume of laughter from his own lungs. "Truly, I don't get it," she went on, "Is it me? Or do they all really think that the best way to get me to sleep with them is to pretend that it's already a done deal? And why do so many of them have something going on with their mom, and don't think it's weird? 

"And on top of that," she continued, raising a finger as if to make the point that much more potent, "if they even get past dinner, it's never as good as they think it'll be! Sometimes, it's fine enough, but most of the time I feel like it's such a waste of my time and I end up coming back here and taking care of myself anyway. Am I crazy or something? Like, are my standards too high?" 

When she looked at him, blinking her fluttery lashes, Harry realized she was actually asking him. 

He was quick to shake his head, attempting to get the image of her tucked away in her bedroom taking care of herself wiped from his brain. 

"'S not you," he cemented, "Definitely not. 'M sorry so many people waste your time like that—and are so disrespectful." 

She rolled in her spot, moving closer to him for comfort. "It's not fair," she pouted, exhaling with exhaustion, "I hope this isn't weird to say, but I'm bored of having to look after myself, you know? I'm putting myself out there, giving people chances, and I still end up taking myself home and finishing the job. They don't make me feel good—about myself, or otherwise. It's exhausting being my own boyfriend." 

Harry's throat ran dry.

What was he supposed to say to this? He supposed they didn't have the same boundaries they started their friendship with years ago, but he wondered if he was even really supposed to hear these things? It felt like a diary entry, not something (Y/N) shared after a date gone wrong. 

It broke his heart to hear her blaming herself. To hear so candidly how exhausted she was having to be the one that took care of her needs, to make herself feel beautiful in the ways that she needed. He hadn't been taking care of her as well as he thought he had been. 

Her words made him realize just how easily he could be dropped into that same category. The pile of selfish men who took advantage of her giving nature and pretty eyes. 

She had made him cum at her hand twice, and not once had Harry even attempted to return to favor. He wasn't much better than a man on an app, was he?

"'M sorry, (Y/N)." 

She waved him off without a second thought. "It's okay, it's not your fault—" 

"It is," he cut her off, meeting her gaze steadfast, "I haven't been good t'you, like I thought. 'M not any better than any of them." 

(Y/N) stayed quiet as she took in his words, mouth in a small gape. 

"I... I haven't been trying m'best to make y'feel good—in any way y'want. I don't take care of you like I should." He hoped so badly she could spot the points he was trying to make; that he could be those things she wanted, as long as she let him try. He'd promise to never make any comparisons to his mom at least. 

"Harry," she started cautiously, "If you mean about the stuff we've done, it's not a big deal. I offer so—" 

"But it is," he said, swallowing around the clog in his throat, "'S not fair. I... I don't know much, but I can try. I'll be—or do—anything y'want, jus' might have to teach me a little." 

She blinked at him. 

Her pretty, pretty eyes glimmered as she took in the honesty in his features. A soft pout has her lips in a gape, exhales fanning between them. Looking at her like this, cheek smushed against the back sofa, Harry wondered how anyone could see her—have the privilege of being on a date with her—and not want to hear any and everything she had to say. He would have groveled on his knees just for a chance to impress her. 

Though, a large, selfish part of him was grateful that the others before him had fumbled their chances. Even if Harry never had a real chance himself, this was going to have to be enough, he decided. These moments tucked away in the privacy of their home were going to have to be enough. 

"Are you serious?" she whispered, eyes dropping to the shape of his lips before skittering back up to match his own. 

He could only nod, his mouth bone-dry. 

She shuffled closer to him, the blankets shifting around her form. Her words were tentative, "You know you don't have to, right? I'm okay with just doing things for you." 

"I know," he murmured, "But I want you. I-It's something new, you know." 

A soft smile decorated her features. "I guess so. All about the learning experience, you are." 

"Something like that," he played along, loosening up at her light-hearted attitude. 

Her hadn't reached through the folds of the blanket cocoon to wrap around his. Her palm was soft, just as the remembered, warm and inviting. Her thumb worked a comforting circuit on the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. 

"Is there something specific you wanted to try?" she broached, her foot gently brushing against his calf under the quilt. 

"Anything y'like." 

Her lips curled. "Okay," she started, beginning to stand with her grip on his hand tightening to pull him along. "I have an idea then, but only if it sounds fun to you too." 

Harry's heart bumped against his ribs. It took an immense amount of effort to keep his eyes from drifting down her body. "What is it?" 

It was (Y/N)'s turn to grow sheepish, turning away to start leading him towards her bedroom. "You've never... like, eaten anyone out before, right?" 

Was it a bit pathetic that his cock stirred at her words alone? But that was just what it was like being around (Y/N), he supposed. 

"Never," he choked out, quickening his pace to push them along to her bedroom that much faster. His skin already felt heated at even the possibility of seeing what she had under her dress. 

A breathy laugh fell from her lips as she led him into her bedroom. It was a space Harry never really breached, not unless (Y/N) expressly called him in. Maybe that was why the wall of her scent seemingly slapped him in the face, the warm, sugary fragrance intoxicating him like a whiskey neat. 

It brought him right back to the morning between his sheets, nose tucked into her hair as she slid her hand down the length of his body. A shiver ran up his spine at the memory, hand pulsing around her own. 

(Y/N) kicked her thrown bag out of the way, tipping her head to look up at him. "You can relax, you know." 

"'M fine, 'm fine," he muttered as she drew him closer to the plush mess of her bed. 

Rumpled sheets and the thrown back comforter called to him, leaving him to imagine—a bit too vividly—what she looked like when she woke up wrapped up in the silky fabrics. Her satin eye mask was thrown haphazardly over the fluffed pillows, a golden kitten face sparkling in the overhead lighting. 

Before he could move any closer, she rounded in front of him, blocking his path to the mattress. "No really," she said, gazing at him through her lashes, "We don't have to do anything. You take care of me just fine without getting me off too, H." 

He was sure she intended her words to be a passing joke, something lighthearted to ease him into the uncharted territory, but Harry felt his heart do the exact opposite. The muscles of his abdomen tightened, chest stuttering.

"I want to," he said, rushing out the words without much thought. His throat bobbed as she swallowed around the dry lump. "I just... I want it to be good for you. That's all." 

Her teasing smile turned affectionate. Reaching her free hand up to his face, she cupped Harry's cheek in her palm. The pad of her thumb skated over the soft skin under his eye. 

"You're going to do just fine, H," she crooned, tipping her head back in a way that would make it so, so easy to catch her in a kiss. "Relax and have fun, and you'll do fine." 

Relax and have fun, she said. As if he were going away to summer camp and not about to push her dress up and put his face between her legs. 

She must have caught the expression on his features as a huff of laughter fanning from her lips. Rising to her toes, she pressed her lips to his cheek. It was a familiar affection, one she had shared with him much for the last couple of weeks, but the peck felt decidedly different at the moment. It was more, he thought. Especially in the way she lingers, lips brushing the very corner of his mouth as they had earlier in the evening, when she seemed so hesitant to leave him behind for her date. 

It took every effort not to turn his head and line his lips to hers, stealing a kiss. He reminded himself: if she wanted to kiss him, she would have. 

Instead, he fluttered his eyes to a close, leaning into the flush of her touch. 

When she finally drew away, (Y/N) looked at him with her bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Without having to say a word, he would have followed her whoever she wanted him.

Which, for tonight, appears to be her sage and bubblegum colored bed. 

She fell backwards atop the plush bedding, bringing him down with her as her hand was still twined in his. He fell atop her, already breathless as he gazed down at her. 

His mouth ran dry as his eyes met hers. She was entirely too pretty, too perfect, so out of his league. What was she thinking letting him even touch her, let alone inviting him to do more? Was she going to come to his senses and realize who he was? 

Harry hoped not. 

Bringing her hands to the nape of his neck, she curled the baby strands around the tips of her fingers. "Don't look so scared, H," she laughed, eyes searching his own, "You're making me feel bad—like I'm corrupting you or something." 

He shook his head. "Sorry, that's not—I don't... Don't feel bad," he insisted, "You're jus' so pretty, (Y/N). Don't know why you're even letting me be here, with you." 

A blooming smile appeared on her mouth. "Because I trust you, remember," she said, taking him back to those moments between his sheets, when he had confessed so much to her. "And, you're pretty too, you know. Your eyelashes are so unfair." 

A sheepish grin tilted his lips. "Thanks." 

"Just relax," (Y/N) repeated, her smile warming him, "Do whatever feels right, and if I want you to do something different, I'll tell you." 

Harry swallowed, nodding his head. He supposed that was going to be the only way he was going to learn. She couldn't exactly draw him a diagram and what exactly, movement by movement that she wanted out of him. (Or at least, not in a way that wouldn't kill the mood). 

Do whatever felt right, he thought as he dropped his head to the crook of her neck. He pecked his lips against the soft skin. His nose skimmed the column of her throat as he slowly moved, deposited kisses in his wake. His confidence grew as she craned her head back, lengthening her neck and giving him more space to make his mark. 

Though he wasn't planning on being quite as crude (not tonight, anyway), he tried to think of the videos he'd seen or the pages in books he's read. When he'd imagined himself in a moment like this, what had he craved to do? 

A light scrape of his teeth against the sensitive skin was the first in an experimental move. A soft sigh left (Y/N)'s lungs, goosebumps raising around his kiss. Spurred on by her reaction, Harry attempted a small bite to the same space. It was a nibble, barely holding onto the skin for more than a second before he released her to soothe with a lingering kiss. 

Her legs around his hips moved to close around him, caging him right where he was. A good sign, he decided. 

He gained confidence, letting his mouth linger on her throat, the kisses long and leaving small marks or glistening prints behind. A part of him was waiting for (Y/N) to correct him, tell him to do more, or do less. She never did, only holding the baby curls on the back of his neck and giving him the prettiest sounds. 

Even when he dared to dip his head lower and approach the neckline of her dress. The swells of her breasts heaved as she took in lingering breaths. Harry dared to peek up at her through his lashes as he kissed down to the top of her dress, the scalloped edge tickling his chin. He swore he could feel the beat of her heart rattling underneath her sternum.

(Y/N) laid with her eyes closed, lips parted. She looked entirely at peace as he kissed her body, micro twitches of her lips, the soft flutter of her already closed eyes, being the only giveaways to the fact that she was just as present in this moment as he was. 

A slight scrape of his teeth over the top of her breast had goosebumps reaching over her décolletage. A slight shift of her hips occurred underneath his own.

"H?" she breathed, feeling her chest move under his mouth as much as he heard the call of his name. 

"Hm?" he hummed, soothing the soft nip with a kiss of his saliva-slicked lips. 

"Um," she started, finding her voice, "Are you... Do you want to do more? Or just this?" 

"More," he answered automatically, "Yeah, more."

 Her smile was dreamy this time as he raised her head to look at him. "Okay," she started, a bit breathless compared to just moments before, "Are you alright with being on your knees? Or do you want me to move?" 

Harry didn't have to think before he was shaking his head. She wasn't adjusting a single part of herself, unless it was for her comfort or it fit her wants. Otherwise, he planned on taking on everything. If she wanted him on his knees, then that was what he was going to do. 

"'M alright," he said, already sinking to rest on his knees before her. 

Her thighs hesitantly unlocked from around his hips, letting him rest with the cuffs of his knees on the fluffy rug underneath her bed. The hem of her dress dangled before him, temptingly innocent with that same scalloped edging that had just grazed his chin. 

(Y/N) shifted where she laid. Her legs spread wide enough to allow him between, tightening the material of her dress around her thighs. Scooting closer to the edge, her hips were just barely situated amongst the bedding, the apex of her thighs just that much closer to his face. Harry grew incredibly antsy where he sat, hands restless in his lap and bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

She moved so comfortably, reaching for him as if he wasn't one of the most monumental moments of his life. 

"Okay?" she asked, craning her neck to look down at him. 

Harry jerked his head in a nod, decidedly a bit too frantic to match the nonchalant air of her. Though, (Y/N) only laughed, affection twined within the sound. 

"Um," he started, feeling his cheeks heat, "How do y'want me to start?" 

Laying back, she ran her fingers through his hair. "However you want. I'm ready whenever you are—really ready." 

Not allowing himself to process the implication of her words lest she completely burst into flames, Harry braced himself as he placed his hands gently on her knees. Absently, her legs parted that much more, leaving more room for him to make his home. 

"Okay," he shakily answered. 

It was easier said than done to just relax and have fun like she wanted him to. Instinctively, he wanted to pick apart every action, every touch, every breath. But, Harry knew he couldn't do that. If there was one thing—other than his lack of experience, of course—that would make this not pleasurable for (Y/N), it would be any hesitation or fear he had bleeding into his treatment of her.

Even if he wasn't sure of himself, he was going to have to pretend for the time being. He had to trust that if something wasn't right, (Y/N) would tell him and give him the chance to fix it. 

He muttered a quiet Okay to himself before sliding his hands over the cuffs of her knees. Her skin was soft under his palms, every bump, mark and scar that made up her story glided under his touch. Reaching the hem of her dress, he held his breath as he slid his fingertips under the material. 

Carefully, Harry pushed her dress up. As more and more of her skin was revealed, he could feel his own begin to heat. The warmth crawled up his throat the same way his hands moved up to the plush of her thighs. When his thumb grazed the soft inside of her thigh, he released the breath he'd been holding. The air fanned across her skin, drawing a layer of goosebumps to rise over her thighs.

Harry could hear her breathing stutter, the reaction spurring him on. 

Pulling her dress up until his fingertips met the edge of her underwear, Harry paused. 

"Um," he started, suddenly breathless compared to just moments before, "Tell me if you want me to stop." 

Her hands coasted through his hair, affectionate and warm even when she pulled him that much closer. "Okay, just... hurry." 

It wasn't a command, harsh and unforgiving, but Harry acted as if she gave him no choice. Hearing that small, breathy plea was enough to have him working quickly. Any and everything she wanted, she was going to get. Even if Harry did it with sweaty palms and flushed cheeks. 

 As per her request, he surged on. Taking the plunge and pushing her dress up the rest of the way, he left the material to pool at her waist, revealing her panties. They weren't lacy and extravagant, full of glittering thread or intricate beading. It was only a simple pair, covering her modesty in pink-dyed cotton, a red rosette stitched at the center of the waist. 

Nonetheless, the sight took Harry's breath away. No wonder there were people in the world addicted to this act. 

His hands shook as he set them on the bones of her hips. He knew she wanted him to hurry, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to move on from this. Not when he could see the fabric of her underwear clinging to the shape of her core underneath. The folds and lines of her pussy were clear, a small dot of wetness had collected on the gusset, darkening the material to a mauve tone. Just like the blush on her cheeks. 

He curled his fingers into the waist of her underwear, but didn't make any move to pull them down. He moved instinctively, dropping a kiss to the joint of her knee. He didn't linger there long, dragging his lips over her skin. He explored the expanse of her thighs though he kept his gaze trained on her core through the fan of his lashes. The very tip of his nose skimmed over her skin with peeks of his tongue appearing to connect the trail of his kisses the higher he moved up her leg. 

Harry stopped when he reached the leg of her panties, hesitating for only a moment before he surged forward and pressed his lips to the middle of her underwear. Her legs on either side of him tensed and made a move to close, turning him into a wedge between them. He could feel the outline of her beneath his kiss, complete with the bud of her clit pressing into his nose. 

(Y/N) let out an audible beneath at the touch. It was shaking and delicate, just barely loud enough for him to catch, but enough to let him know he was doing something right. 

The single peck he gave turned into a string of open-mouthed kisses, giving into his own desire to earn more of her essence. It was a teasing game, he thought, a game he was playing against himself. His cock stirred in his lap, a pinch appearing between his brows the more he forced himself to restrain. 

The material of her underwear was growing sodden from his affection, something that only furthered when he placed the flat of his tongue against her and gave a lingering lick. Despite being through her underwear, it was still enough to get a taste of her on his buds. 

"Harry," she breathed, voice watery, "I need more, please." 

Hearing the sound of his name wrapped up in her voice, spoken on her breathless tongue, was more than any fantasy could ever hope to be. He felt his eyes roll to the back of his head as he gave a punishing kiss to the bump of her clit. He lingered for only a moment, attempting to crew his head on straight before drawing away.

"Okay, okay," he started, "I can do that, love." 

She spread her legs in response, fingers tightening in his hair. 

He didn't think before he pulled her underwear down. (Y/N) assisted as she lifted her hips and angled her legs to help him pull them down. Once she settled again, she pulled her legs apart without a care. As if Harry wasn't witnessing the most beautiful thing he could imagine ever existing. 

Before him, she was laid bare. Her folds were glistening, parted just enough to show her pulsing opening. The bud of her clit was puffy at the top of her pussy, just where he could imagine his nose going when he dug his tongue inside her hole. Just like the rest of her, she was too pretty, too alluring. 

It was the tug on his hair that reminded him of the real world going on around him. "H," was her quiet whine. 

"I know, sorry," he breathed, shuffling on his knees towards her, his neck craning to be level with her core, "Jus'... You're perfect, (Y/N)." 

He could hear the quiet smile in her voice as she spoke, "Thanks, honey." 

It was enough to have his own puffy lips growing into a lopsided grin, a single dimple on his cheek. Honey. How sweet was she?

Mimicking his actions from before, he pressed his lips to the top of her slit. His chin pressed lightly into her seeping wetness, warm and sticky against his skin. A breathless sigh left her lungs in gentle relief. 

Shuffling on his knees, he hooked his hands around her hips. Instead of drawing away and giving himself a chance to become distracted by her once more, Harry dragged his mouth down the length of her. His breath fanned across her slick skin as he pressed his lips directly to her clit. It was a gentle kiss, though he didn't pull away when her legs tensed around him, thighs moving to attempt to wrap around his head. 

"Right there, hold on," she breathed, her first direction. 

Harry did as she requested, turning his single peck into a string of soft pulling kisses. Parting his mouth just enough, he fit her bud between his lips. He delivered a gentle suck to the pearl, getting his first real taste of her wetness on his tongue. Everything was heady and warm, a previously undiscovered delicacy. He could see himself sitting right where he was for hours on end, attempting to learn every intricacy of her taste. 

Laving his tongue over her clit seemed to be just enough for (Y/N) to peel more noises from her. She tensed against his touch, her opening pulsing against the point of his chin, muscles bunching in her abdomen. A quiet whine dripped from her throat. 

"Fuck, H," she whimpered, filling her messy room with something so pretty as her whining for him. "I-I—More, please. Inside, inside." 

 It was a treat alone to get to taste her, but nothing was like the whipped cream, and cherry on top that was her begging him for more, broken sentences stringing together.

Following along, he drifted away from her clit and dragged his tongue through her parted lips. Her slick collected on his tongue, washing over him and down his throat. It was his turn to let out a rumbling groan. His own pleasure bundled in his middle, urging his muscles to tense and bunch with his cock rising to the occasion. 

But this was all about (Y/N), as far as he was concerned. She was going to come first—in both ways.

He took his time to taste her. He felt the pulses of her opening urging him to do as she requested and plunge his tongue inside, but he wanted a selfish moment to get every taste of her he could. More and more slick seeped out of her as he cleaned her, matching the stuttering of her breathing and the trickling stream of quiet moans she let out above him. 

With his chin wet and nose pressed to her clit, Harry dipped lower on her pussy until his mouth was level with her hole. The tip of his tongue danced around the shuddering entrance, (Y/N)'s fingers curling in his hair, the roots beginning to burn just enough under her grip. 

"H," she cried, a pleading note to her voice. 

He knew what she needed, and he wasn't planning on making her work hard for her pleasure. 

With that, he pressed his tongue inside her. Her walls shuttered and pulsed around him, sucking him inside. He could feel the ridges of her as he writhed his tongue inside, feeling the spongey give just beside her opening. (Y/N) let out a shuddering sigh. 

Harry pressed his face harshly against her, eager to taste more and more of her. His breathing came out heavily, fanning over her glistening skin and pearling bud. Slick noise filled the room as he began making tentative strokes of his tongue through her, pulling back just enough before plunging through once more. 

"Oh my god, Harry," she breathed, plush thighs becoming earmuffs around his head. She pulled his head towards her core with her grip on his hair, nose scrunching against her clit. "Y-You—You're so good, so good." 

If not for his busy mouth, Harry was sure a prideful grin would have decorated his face. But he was much too engrossed in tasting her praise. He could feel the sticky wetness dripping over his chin, beginning to river down his jaw. 

Focusing on the movements of his tongue in hopes of drawing more praise of her, Harry barely noticed the way the grip on his hair changed. (Y/N), with her renewed leverage, moved his head against her, wagging his chin over her slick. She shook his head against her core, a grumbling moan leaving his throat as he felt her walls pulsing around his tongue, her clit throb against the tip of his nose. 

A string of curses fell from (Y/N)'s lips, her plush thighs tight around his head. He could feel her toes curling around his back as she hooked her ankles underneath his shoulder blades. A broken whine croaked from her throat. 

"Harry, I-I'm sorry, I think I'm gonna cum," she bubbled, apparently delusional if she thought she needed to apologize.

Unwilling to pull away from her, he could do nothing other than commit to tasting her to show her that he didn't mind. He wanted to feel her pleasure wash over him, to taste every bit of her release. She had quit her pulling of his hair, her bones going lax, leaving Harry to take over what he was learning she liked. 

He wagged his head against her core, digging his tongue inside her. Shifting his hand over her wriggling hip, he dared to meet the pad of his thumb to her budding clit. She practically jumped out of her skin, her insides snug around his tongue. 

Despite the slight tremor to his hands, he circled his thumb around her clit. There was so much to keep track of, so much he wanted to make sure was perfect and worth it for her. But, he knew everything was a bit messy, a bit off-kilter, not the pristine experience he wanted to give her. Though (Y/N) didn't seem to mind; she appeared to like the messy, clumsy way he was eager to get her off. Even if that meant she was going to end the night with puffy lips and slick thighs. 

"H, honey," she cried, a crackle entering the syllables of the pet name, "I-I'm gonna—" 

He nodded his head against her. Do it, please. I want to taste, please, please, please. 

As if she could hear his thoughts, it took only another circuit of his thumb over her clit and a plunge of his tongue through her pussy that he felt everything tighten. 

Every muscle in her bunched and warmed while her bones went loose. She came around his tongue with her legs wrapping around his head, trapping him just where he wanted to be. He writhed his tongue inside of her, working her through the pulsing, shaking orgasm he was lucky enough to serve to her. 

Every moan and bubble of his name was a fire to Harry's blood, warming him from the inside out. His cock was full and hard in his lap, aching to feel what it would be like to truly be inside her. Despite the distracting fantasy, he stitched his attention solely on her, working her through the pleasure. 

Harry could have sat there on his knees for hours, helping her come down, but eventually, (Y/N) appeared to start floating back down to earth. Her thighs around his head loosened first, her toes uncurling. She cringed away from him once the feel of him was too much, her nerves too sensitive to allow him to keep going. 

The grip she had used on his hair that kept him pinned to her now became the force pushing him away. It took a bit of effort before Harry realized she was wanting him to stop, too caught up in the taste, and feel, and absolute wonder at knowing that he had this effect on her. 

Pulling his head away, Harry looked up at her with swollen, slick lips. From where he sat on his knees, he was granted an angle of her face. He saw her puffy lips parted, slight marks within the pillow of the bottom one where her teeth had sunk in. He swore her skin held a new radiance—the kind he'd never seen on her before, but wouldn't be able to get out of his head for a while. Or ever, really. 

All at once, a wave of something overwhelming washed over him. Here he sat, with the taste of her on his tongue, his heart beating wildly in his chest and skin warm. All while his dream girl sat above him, fanning lashes and pretty lip gloss on her mouth. He didn't have to check to know that her own heart was hammering in her chest. He could feel the heat pouring off of her skin already. She had his mark, however faint and fading, on her neck. 

This was (Y/N). And she was here, with him. She had a beating heart, and stilted lungs. He had a working list of all the things he loved about her, but it all boiled down to the brain in her head and her heart in her chest. The idea that she had thought about him at all, let alone enough to be here with him tonight when there was a world outside waiting for her, had a different kind of bliss blooming inside him.

He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. 

Rising on shaky legs (it appeared the fluffy rug wasn't enough to cushion his knees like he thought), Harry moved on autopilot as he fell atop her. Instead of kissing down her neck, his lips met her cheek. His arms wrapped around her middle, her dress shifting down her waist to make room for the cage of his forearms. 

(Y/N) didn't hesitate before she looped her arms around his neck. 

"H," she crooned, energy depleted, "That was—You're... perfect." 

It was breathless the way she spoke. In Harry's heart, he wanted to believe it was from the same awe that he felt. 

"You," he countered, refusing to draw too far from her skin, "You're perfect, (Y/N). You're... everything." 

It was cheesy and cliche, but his overwhelmed brain couldn't think of anything better. She was everything. She was every bright morning made for easy breakfast, and chilled night made for cuddling. She was the fulfilling nights spent under blankets with only the most comforting movie on the television. She was the best dinner money could buy. She was the feeling of a sweet animal choosing you as its person. She was a rainy afternoon with a new favorite book. She was everything. 

Everything led back to her. 

It was (Y/N) that had paused for a moment before turning her head just enough to match her lips to his. He all but melted into her. 

A moment he had been waiting for. He'd missed kissing her as if he'd been doing it his whole life. Oxygen didn't sound appealing when there was the option of pressing his mouth to hers. Slotting his lips to hers felt like second nature, allowing a soft taste of her mouth, uncaring of the lipstick painted over her pout.

Lips smearing against one another, Harry felt his brows pinch. While it wasn't his ecstasy that had filled the room, the high tension from wanting, aching to give her pleasure was beginning to crash down on him. His arms around her waist tightened, his hands cupping the curve of her waist with denting fingers. 

How was he to go on after this? This night was a turning page, spurring him on before he could have a second thought. 

"I'd do anything for you," he murmured, blurting out his thoughts without hesitation. He didn't even lift his lips from her own, his affections wafting over her mouth. "Not-Not jus' this—I'd do anything for you, (Y/N)." 

"I know, H," (Y/N) smiled, smoothing his hair back, "You're the best friend I—" 

"No," he cut her off, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead on her own. He didn't dare open his eyes, lest the courage bubbling behind his ribs be doused. "'S more than that," he confessed, breathless, "I... I care about you s'much. I want to make y'happy, and I don't want y'to have to use your apps anymore. I... I can do the hard work for you—y'don't have to be on your own." 

He clung to her the way he clung to the hope that she was understanding what he was saying. That she was on the same page. Or even reading the same book as him. 

It was (Y/N) that made the move to draw away from him, even when he chased after her mouth. She stopped him with a hand cupping his cheek. 

Her eyes were downturned, lips parted and swollen. "You care about me?" 

He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do at the moment, but Harry couldn't stop himself before the words tumbled out of him: "I love you." 

Her expression softened before his eyes. Something melted swam in her eyes, swirling and glistening. Her skin was warm, plump with simmering blood. Just barely, he caught the very edge of her mouth up turning into a small smile. 

"You love me?" 

"More than anything." 

She tugged him down for another kiss. It was messy and clumsy, off center, but still incredibly perfect. 

"I thought you just like being friends with me," she laughed against his kiss, "I didn't want to freak you out in case you just... you know. Oh my god, you love me." 

"I love you," he repeated, unsure of how she could ever have a doubt over his feelings but determined to wipe them away. "Love being friends with you, but it would be kind of nice to be more." 

Another laugh, this one giddy came from (Y/N). "It would be really nice, huh. Oh, H, I love you too." 

His heart soared, taking over the space at the base of his throat. If he thought he was overwhelmed before, that was nothing compared to the swirling mass of everything brewing inside him. 

She loved him. She loved him like he loved her. 

Harry could only kiss her, could only hug her tight. (Y/N) clung to him just as tightly. 

He could have laid atop her for hours on end, kissing her and keeping her snug against his heart—right where she belonged. But, (Y/N) once again had the clearer brain.

She nudged her nose against his, knocking him to smear his lips over her cheek instead. 

"Do you think we could have a sleepover again tonight?" 

It was his turn to let out a bubbling laugh. As if he was planning on leaving her to sleep by herself tonight. 

"Anything y'want, love." 

—————

strawberries represent perfection; the sweetest at the end of june

thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please sned n any fun ideas you have!

[metranart]

hey, I know you probably busy and I’m sorry to bother you, but could you maybe make some headcanons of what hawks would do if y/n got pregnant?

You don't bother me at all, cutie. :) Here you have some cute little headcanons of our favorite birdie boy.

What Hawks would do if Y/N got pregnant? <3

Takami Keigo is not complicated, he wants as many chicks as he has fingers and toes, and he wants them all with YOU. 

You hadn’t thought about the subject but every time you’ve been at it … -it WAS unprotected. There was nothing to keep you from getting, round and heavy, with his child. And it wasn’t just once. Keigo could go for hours on end- he wouldn’t stop until he fucking collapsed on top of you, completely spent. “Sheesh, that-that was something else entirely, dove.” His smile bright enough to compete with the sun in the sky and win.

“If you get pregnant… I’ll be required to take care of you for the rest of our lives.” He shared all too proud of his deed, that look of adoration in his face, way too close to possessiveness. “—But one thing I swear, (Y/N). I’ll take care of EVERYTHING, you, them, us… All, you just watch me.” 

When the pregnancy test finally confirmed that his secret efforts had been fruitful, he nearly exploded with happiness, he carried you in his arms and your feet did not touch the ground again for the next forty minutes. 

“Dear god- you got even tighter.” Keigo’s voice sounded deeper, “So WET- my love, taking my time to preparing you first was more rewarding than I expected it’d be.” The lingering taste of you on his tongue nearly enough to get him off- “I’m LOVING this pregnant stage, don’cha?” 

The more your belly grew the more he glued to your side. All of the energy that in the past went into making the baby now goes into keeping you and his child happy and healthy. 

One morning, Keigo was looking at you with that unblinking, unreadable look of his, anxious you chewed at your lower lip before voice out your deeper doubts out loud. “I'm not a fan either-” his head cocks to the side, questioningly, and you suck in a nervous giggle, “-of my mom body.”

It would have been better if you slapped him, that would have been less offensive than what you just said. "I LOVE your mommy body, dove. I dream with your plump adorable tummy and all your mommy curves, all night long!" he stressed, ignoring your embarrassed giggles, in order to give a clear and firm statement, "... I'm even thinking about keeping you with that mommy body, all round and pretty and full of my chicks... how would that sound to you?" You shake your head, and he pouts playfully, your heart impossibly warm for him and his cute efforts which always work to make you feel better.

“Stop starin’.” You grumbled, cracking one eye open and staring at him, a tired grin ghosting your lips. “I can’t sleep with you watching me, Keigo.” The Hero grins, “Just checking that you were comfortable-” you shake your head, “For more than an hour?”

Keigo glanced downward at your stomach, a fond grin twisting the corner of his lips up as he imagined a little boy or girl, who looked everything like you- just with his last name, he asked for nothing else. The little one snuggled up in his arms as he read bedtime stories. He imagined teaching the child to ride a bike, to fly-… At this point, Keigo craved just for two things, domesticity and YOU… or just you, if it came to that.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He growled for the thousand time, though his hands stayed gentle on your round belly. “I love everything about you. Your imperfections are so mouthwatering, (Y/N). My favorite parts.” He managed to sound reverent, like a man speaking of his Deity. He would kiss the ground your feet touch if you let him but sometimes you are so restrictive with him.

Having you in his arms has become his favorite part of finishing his patrol, that little extra weight you've gained is mesmerizing, he could adore you for hours, that's why since he met you, he leaves some feathers hidden in your apartment when he must leave, that way he can at least be close, even when he's far away.

"Don't think I don't know what you do, birdie." You whine playfully and he laughs, "how long have you known?" you snort through your mouth, "since we've known each other." Keigo snickers widely, you are definitely his person, no one else could stand how mushy and clingy he can be, more than you, his adorable and pregnant, dove.

🔞➡️ MHA X Reader NSFW ART

[saturnznct]

best kind of nap | jks

➸ word count; 549 words

➸ ella; aged 3

➸ warning(s); none

enhypen masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Jake? El?’ 

You’d just arrived home from a late night at work to a seemingly deserted apartment. The TV is on in your living room, midway through an episode of Pororo, and Ella’s toys are littered across the floor. Despite this, your husband and daughter are nowhere to be found.

‘Hello?’

Ella’s bedroom is also empty, so you continue down the corridor. When you round the corner into your own bedroom, your heart nearly explodes.

Jake is laying on your bed, fast asleep, arm wrapped around an also sleeping Ella. 

The two of them are the spitting image of each other, faces smushed against the pillows, mouths slightly open and snoring softly.

You smile widely at the sight, immediately itching to be beside them.

Peeling off your formal work clothes, you grab a pair of sweatpants and pull them on, before crawling into bed with them.

You brush away some hair that’s fallen over her face, savouring how sweet and angelic she looks.

Jake stirs, sensing your movements.

‘Oh, hey,’ his voice is deep and raspy, ‘when did you get in?’

‘Few minutes ago,’ you whisper, ‘didn’t expect to come back to the most adorable looking nap ever.’

Jake smiles, ‘didn’t even mean to go to sleep. I guess we played too hard.’

‘I can tell by the mess in the living room.’

‘Shit, sorry baby. I’ll clean it in the morning.’

‘It’s okay. As long as you had a good day.’

The two of you are quiet for a few moments.

‘She’s just the best, isn’t she?’ Jake practically has heart eyes as he looks at her, ‘she’s growing up so beautifully. But I wish she’d slow down a little bit.’

‘I know. One more year and she’ll be starting school.’

Jake looks almost wounded, ‘nah, she’s not allowed to leave me. We will stay at home and play Barbie Dreamhouse until she’s eighteen.’

You laugh, but Jake looks genuinely dejected.

‘It’s okay, Jakey,’ you rest a hand on his arm, ‘she’ll always be your little girl. Her growing up is just a part of life.’

‘I know,’ he sighs, ‘I just- I miss when she was a little baby.’

‘Me too,’ you admit, ‘but I must say, she’s much more entertaining now.’

Jake grins, and a few more moments pass before he shakily asks you a question.

‘Do you want to have another baby?’

You lift your head up, ‘what, now?’

‘Yeah, is that so crazy? I just keep thinking about cuddling a little baby. When I’m with Ella I just imagine what she’d be like as a big sister, how she would interact with the baby. I miss the tiny clothes, the baby smell, even being up all night..’

You mull over his words, remembering that newborn bubble you had with Ella.

‘Okay,’ you hum.

‘Really?’ Jake looks ecstatic, ‘we’re going to try?’

‘I’ll make a doctors appointment in the morning.’

‘Amazing,’ he beams, ‘I love you. I love you and Ella so so so much.’

‘We love you too,’ you twirl Ella’s hair between your fingers.

‘Maybe we should put her in her own bed?’ Jake suggests, conscious that it’s now past her bedtime.

‘Nah, let’s let her sleep here tonight. Just this once.’

‘Alright,’ Jake kisses the back of her head, ‘goodnight my babies.’

[fortunxa]

Fourteen days

[sequel to ‘Blue hair, blue eyes, blue lights’]

Jinx x fem!reader / modern AU

summary: They say the longer the wait, the sweeter the kiss. But, darling, I’m starving, so don’t keep me guessing.

cw: around 4k words but could be mediocre, mild nsfw

author’s note: I’m alive! Sorry for the delay in posting, I’ve been hustling :( But here’s the awaited sequel, so buckle up ;)

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“Uno, motherfucker!”

Jinx is… competitive, to say the least. As of right now, we’re lying on my bed, legs tangled, and playing UNO while it’s pouring outside. It’s well past midnight, and I stopped trying to shush her victory cheers after the second round. She has a way of making her presence known and commanding your attention, but truthfully, she isn’t hard to miss anyway. Every aspect of her exudes an unapologetic ‘Look at me!’ aura—from her infectious laughter to her bold fashion sense. Even her braids have a life of their own, swirling and swaying with every step she takes. She’s unforgettable.

But I’ve come to discover a more delicate side of her in her most vulnerable moments. It’s almost like she transforms into a different person, both in terms of her personality and, surprisingly, her appearance. Her features become softer, more child-like, her eyes wide and innocent. The way she effortlessly switches from one persona to the other is impressive to witness. On the flip side, she has a tendency to become obsessive and possessive, which resulted in us spending almost every waking moment together. You may call me crazy, but it makes me feel needed. Ultimately, isn’t that what we all want?

These are just a few of the observations I’ve made about her in the past two weeks. My mind’s file on her is growing exponentially, tucking away every information I learn about her in a safe place—from her preference for orange juice but hate for oranges to her strained relationship with her older sister, which makes my room the designated hangout spot whenever we’re stuck inside. Jinx is a complex person with many layers, and while I can’t claim to know everything about her just yet, I do feel like I have built a stable foundation of understanding what makes her unique. I certainly know enough to start falling for her.

“Alright, alright, you win. Again,” I say with a small smile playing on my lips and twenty cards in my hands. My phone is buzzing beside me—probably another message from my mom asking us to be quieter—and I ignore it. I still remember her face when she asked us how we met, and Jinx jumped up, telling her all about the police chase, earning a nudge in the ribs from me. It’s a miracle she still lets us hang out, but with the number of times the blue-haired girl sneaked in through my window, I don’t think it would’ve changed much if she didn’t.

I feel a yawn building up, but before it reaches the surface, I’m pinned against my bed. “And what do I get for winning?” Jinx teases as she straddles my hips, and I certainly feel awake now. Another thing that I learned about her is how touchy she gets, but it still catches me off-guard at times. My heart rate quickens, and I’m sure she feels it pulsating through my wrists. She smirks at my dumbfounded expression and lowers herself even more, brushing her nose against mine. “Cat got your tongue?”

This proximity between us takes me back to the night we met when we almost shared a kiss. Fucking almost. Although I’m familiar with many aspects of her, I’m still a stranger to the way she tastes. Is it sweet like the Skittles she keeps stealing from me or, on the contrary, sour like the Warheads? Perhaps it carries the freshness of her toothpaste or the fruity allure of her cherry-flavored chapstick. I need an answer to the question that’s been consuming my thoughts as of late, and I need it now.

Just when I’m about to get it, my phone buzzes again, and—you guessed it—Jinx pulls away and casually snatches it off the bed, reading the message. I feel like I’m about to explode.

“Aw, why didn’t you tell me that we woke your mom up?” she innocently asks as I stare at the ceiling with a blank look. I suddenly feel self-conscious. Maybe I was misunderstanding our connection since the beginning. Maybe she never wanted us to take it further. And maybe this is another thing that I need to learn about her—she’s just flirty, and there’s no ulterior motive behind her actions. How fucking stupid was I to think otherwise? I’d be fine if she wanted to stay friends, but this whole teasing is starting to make me feel like a toy. I need clarity.

“I guess I was too focused on our game,” I finally mutter as a reply, putting the UNO deck away before standing up to grab us two fresh pairs of pj’s. When I turn to face her again, she’s already watching me with a worried expression.

“You okay, toots?” I’m not. Jinx walks over, and her bare feet make a thumping sound across my carpet. She positions herself in front of me as her eyes analyze my demeanor, and I feel vulnerable under her scrutinizing gaze. I wonder if now’s the time to be open about my feelings, but as I take in her cerulean eyes—I stopped calling them blue as they’re so, so much more than that—I can’t bring myself to face the rejection.

My cowardice wins.

“I’m fine,” I say with a tight-lipped smile before presenting her with a nightshirt. She opens her mouth, presumably to push her investigation further, but decides against it. Her eyebrows knit together at the newfound awkwardness.

We change into our nightwear, and Jinx snuggles under the comforter while I head to turn off the lights. I remember her fear of the dark, and quickly turn on the nightlight, casting a soft pink glow across the room. I find myself wondering if she cares enough to remember the little things about me, too. I slide into bed alongside her, making sure to maintain a respectful distance between us. The air is filled with an uncharacteristic silence, broken only by the gentle patter of raindrops outside and our quiet breaths.

I flip on my side, my back toward Jinx as I try to fall asleep. I can sense her restless shuffling as she tries to find a comfortable position before she settles by wrapping her arms around my torso. She’s flush against me, and I let out a sigh—screw it. I turn around and face her before pulling her frame into my chest. Her grip tightens, and a shuddering breath escapes past her lips. I’m not a mind reader, but I know that the sudden sour mood brought her feelings of uneasiness, and a plethora of negative thoughts, igniting her own insecurities. I rest my cheek on top of her head and close my eyes. My hand finds its way into her hair, and I start massaging her scalp gently. When she finally relaxes, it doesn’t take long for me to hear her soft snores.

I don’t remember dozing off, but the morning light filtering through my window comes too early as I slowly flutter my eyes open. My eyelids feel heavy, and my bed is unexpectedly empty, fueling my disoriented state. I sit up groggily and rub the sleep from my face before scanning the room in hopes of catching a glimpse of Jinx, but she’s nowhere to be found.

Right as I’m about to sink into self-pity over her Irish goodbye, my bedroom door suddenly bursts open. I jump, and my tired eyes lock with her cheerful ones. I guess she never left after all.

“You’re finally awake! Good morning!” she exclaims with a radiant smile while skipping over to me, her slightly gapped teeth proudly on display. Her braids are tousled from sleep as she settles on the edge of the bed, presenting me with a plate of freshly made chocolate chip pancakes. “Made your favorite. And don’t worry, I already cleaned up,” she adds, and my heart swells as my eyes flicker between her and the breakfast she prepared. She does the same, a giddy smile on her face and her lower lip caught between her teeth. Yet, as I remain silent, her shoulders slump and the sparkle dims, replaced by a nervous fidgeting of her hands. “It’s okay if you don’t like–”

I interrupt her by pulling her into a tight embrace, expressing my gratitude. At first, Jinx is taken aback, but she soon returns the hug, burying her face into my neck. The scent of vanilla extract lingers in her hair—probably from messing with it during her cooking—and her skin radiates an unusual warmth, bringing a small smile to my face.

“Okay, trinket. Dig in and get some energy,” she says, pulling away as she walks over to my vanity mirror and starts unbraiding her hair. Well, don’t mind if I do. “It’s your college move-in day after all!” She giggles happily, and I almost choke at her words. It isn’t just move-in day; it’s my imaginary deadline of making her mine slowly ending. Despite my lack of progress, she has kept her word in showing me fun—however this friendship goes, I will be sure that I’ve felt alive at least once in my life.

“Shit, I forgot! What time is it?” I scramble to find my phone, which has been lost somewhere under the pillows. I leap to my feet, unsure of what to grab first as I start flailing around. “I still need to finish packing and–and load the boxes into the car, and I–”

“Woah, slow down!” Jinx grabs my shoulders and grounds me in the middle of the room. She takes a deep breath and urges me to mirror her actions. “What am I here for?” Her hands trail up my neck and rest on my jawline, leaving me breathless again. “Finish eating first, then we can worry about the rest. Capiche?” I nod, and she pats my cheek with a grin. “Good girl.”

I’m left flustered, and she resumes untangling her hair as if she didn’t just say the hottest shit I have ever heard in my life. I try to keep my cool and finish my breakfast, but my imagination is running wild with all the scenarios I could be a good girl in. I pick out some fresh clothes for the day, trying my best to act casual while my thoughts are anything but.

“I’m just going to freshen up. I’ll be back in a few,” I say and head to the bathroom, hoping that a cold shower would tame my heat. But, on the other hand, there’s a part of me that’s begging for her to join and do it for me.

She never does—obviously—but I come back with a clearer head. Jinx’s hair is now completely down, her vibrant blue waves cascading to the floor. I see her struggle to part it evenly and decide to step up.

“Here, let me help you,” I offer as I gently take the comb from her hands, carefully brushing out any leftover knots before dividing her hair into two even sections. As I work on the base of the first braid, I steal glances at her in the mirror’s reflection. Her eyes are closed, and she occasionally lets out content hums, seemingly lost in thought.

“For the record, toots,” she speaks up as she now deftly weaves the second braid with practiced fingers, “I don’t let just anyone touch my hair.” My brain is slowly putting the meaning behind her words together, and a smile tugs at my lips as realization dawns on me—I’m special. Despite my best efforts, I fail to conceal my grin. Jinx communicates a lot through body language, so when she explicitly says what’s on her mind, it stuns me a bit.

“So, I’m not just anyone, huh?” I tease and concentrate on finishing the braid.

“Clearly you’re my getaway driver,” she retorts with a smirk, and I nudge her shoulder.

Once we’re done working on her hair, we begin filling up the boxes and clearing out most of my room. It’s a mix of emotions knowing that I’m moving away, even if it's only temporary. But what really tugs at the strings of my heart is the thought of not being able to spend as much time with the blue-haired troublemaker. With my upcoming college schedule and her still torn between taking a gap year or not, the idea of our bond weakening is the most difficult part to imagine. If I’m lucky, perhaps life will allow our connection to endure and flourish.

“Sheesh, I don’t remember packing rocks. Did you?” Jinx huffs as she loads the last box into my car. I laugh and shut the trunk.

“It’s my books, dummy,” I reply and get behind the wheel as she takes the passenger seat.

“At least you’ll be too busy reading to hook up with anyone,” she mutters, connecting my phone to the car, and my cheeks flush. Totally normal thing to say to a friend.

The song Jinx chose is blasting through the speakers as I pull off. We fall silent, but I can see her bopping her head to the music in the corner of my eye, lost in her own world with her feet on the dashboard, which she had decorated ‘the Jinx way’ as she called it. Meanwhile, I’m filled with embarrassment as I realize that I haven’t even checked the released college roommate assignments. How awkward will it be if I introduce myself to my bunk buddy after moving in? On a scale of one to ten, I deem it a seven. I don’t even remember filling out the housing application, for fuck’s sake.

We’re halfway there when we decide to take a quick pit stop, and I pull over on a backroad underneath a row of trees. Jinx gets out of the car with an indecipherable expression, and I follow in confusion. I’m no stranger to her mood swings, but I still get concerned. She’s walking around in circles, kicking at the dirt and stray rocks caught in the crossfire of her boots. When I open my mouth to call out for her, she beats me to it.

“Can I talk to you about something, toots?” she asks as she whips around to face me. I simply nod, and she continues, “Somewhere private.” She climbs into the backseat as I look around the empty road. Doesn’t get much more private than this, but I digress. I shut the door behind me and get comfortable.

“So what did you–” I don’t have a chance to finish as she straddles my lap, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach as I recall what happened the last time she did this—her teasing won’t stop unless I speak up, but when I take notice of the whirlwind of emotions flashing through her eyes, my hands subconsciously fall to her hips, tracing soothing circles on the soft skin. I realize I’d rather be stuck in limbo than lose her altogether.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Her question takes me by surprise, and my eyebrows shoot up. She squeezes my cheeks with one hand, turning my face upwards.

“W–what? Why would you think that?” I stutter as her gaze skims over my features.

“Why won’t you make a move already?” Her voice is wobbly, and I’m left speechless. My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of the water as I rack my brain for the right words.

“I wasn’t–I’m not sure if you want me to,” I finally reply, and she makes a face.

“Look at us, Y/N” –she gestures to our current position– “you’re a smart girl, don’t act clueless now.”

Realization hits me like a train. Jinx needs loyalty and devotion—she needs me to show her how much I want her. She wants to know that despite her complex character, I’ll stick around and fight for her. In retrospect, it all seems so simple and obvious.

“Jinx?” My voice is barely above a whisper as I look into her eyes. She can only hum in response. “I’m going to count to three, and then I’m going to kiss you.” Her grip on me loosens in surprise, and her wide eyes are blinking rapidly. “I’m giving you those three seconds to stop me if you change your mind.” She stays silent, and I begin my countdown.

1…

2…

3.

When I finally taste her, I realize how badly I’ve been starving.

My hands cannot bring her close enough to me as I snake my arm around her waist and rest my free hand on her jawline. I’m not holding back anymore. If she wants devotion, I’ll show her exactly that.

I’m furious—furious that I’d been denied this pleasure for so long, but my lips move against hers as if they’d already danced this way before. It’s effortless, like the gliding of a pen on paper from an inspired writer’s hand, and she’s the muse.

It’s not a gentle kiss, the way first ones usually go. It’s hungry, rough, and precisely what was needed to let out the pent-up tension. It’s swirling tongues, dripping saliva, and smudged lipsticks. Without ever pulling away, I carefully lay her on her back, and my fingers sink into the soft flesh of her thighs. Her colorful nails claw at my back, and I groan into her mouth, digging my hips into hers. We’re both breathing heavily through our noses, and my attention shifts to her neck by biting and sucking on the tender skin, letting my hands roam over her curves freely, mapping out her body.

A trail of hickeys is forming on her collarbone, and she’s a moaning and whimpering mess under my touch; it’s a blissful sight. She locks her slender legs around my hips and pulls me further into her, chasing more friction. Watching her become so needy thrills me even more, and my hand tentatively falls to her clothed crotch. Her jaw slacks in anticipation as my fingers ghost over the area where she needs me most, and her back arches into me in response. I want to watch her unravel beneath me, shaking limbs and sweat dripping from her temples.

But she’d teased me too many times for me to grant her this relief right now.

I relish the feeling of our closeness with one last peck and catch Jinx’s lower lip between my teeth, pulling on it slightly before letting go, earning a faint whine from her.

We’re both panting and trying to catch our breaths as I hover above her, my palms firmly planted on the seat on either side of her face, propping myself up. I can’t help but admire my work. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are swollen, her smudged plum lipstick matching the bruises on her neck—still, she’s absolutely beautiful. She watches me through half-hooded eyes with her pupils dilated, and I smirk at her breathlessness.

“Leaving me high and dry, trinket?” she asks, and her hands fall to my hips, trying to pull me back in.

“Call it payback,” I reply before hoisting her back into my lap, and she yelps in surprise.

Jinx grips my shoulders to steady herself, and I try my best to smooth out her disheveled hair. I start peppering sweet kisses to her bruised skin, and she lets her head fall back with a pleased sigh. I pull her back in so my lips can find hers once again. It’s much slower this time, grounding us in the moment, and there’s that delicate side of her peeking through with each swipe of her tongue. When I pull away and take notice of her peaceful state, I know it was all worth the wait. I caress her cheek with the back of my hand, and she leans into my touch.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve craved this?” I whisper, and an amused glint flashes through her eyes.

“Two weeks isn’t that long.” She’s giggling now, and this sound alone is enough to bring a smile to my face.

“It is when you’re right in front of me, and I’m unable to touch you properly.” My thumb starts working on cleaning up her smudged lipstick, and her features soften as she mirrors my actions.

Sitting in the backseat with her feels like a full-circle moment. This is where it all began—a simple thrill-seeking witness turned getaway driver for a blue-haired menace.

Fourteen days.

It took me two weeks to make her mine.

I can’t help the dumb smile tugging on the corners of my mouth as I start driving again. Jinx’s head is on my lap, the same way it was the night we met, and she’s telling me which houses she’s planning on tagging next. The drive goes by quickly as we exchange our opinions on what the Montana spray paint smells like—I say cotton candy, she’s hellbent on bubblegum—and before we know it, I’m parking outside my future college.

“Oooh, look how fancy,” Jinx speaks up as she analyzes the building, and she’s absolutely right. The size itself is intimidating, and I can already see myself getting lost in the halls. The architecture looks modern with futuristic touches, and the campus is surrounded by grass and cherry blossom trees. If it wasn’t for my scholarship, I wouldn’t even dream of affording to study here. “Is now a good time to tell you that I’m your bunk buddy?”

I turn my head so quickly I almost give myself whiplash, and I stare at her as if she grew a second head in the last thirty seconds.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I grab her arm in disbelief, and she shakes her head with a smile, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“Surprise!” She laughs while I’m still processing her confession. “My mechanical engineering scholarship got accepted, so I filled out your housing application and requested myself. Then I filled out mine and requested you. I didn’t think it would work, but, holy shit, isn’t that awesome?”

Any sane person would feel violated by this. But me? I’m fucking delighted.

“You’re a gift that keeps on giving.” My hands cup her cheeks as I pull her in for a kiss, the excitement getting the best of me. One kiss turns into two, then three, and before I know it, I’m peppering her whole face in them as she laughs. When she finally settles, there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Wanna test out the beds?”

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Good Girl

Pairings - Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary- flashing your best friend to get his attention.

Warnings- sex, oral, hair pulling, choking, flashing, language. (18+)

First time Drew saw a naked part of your body was when you went swimming with friends, you had been tanning while they ran around with the ball.

You pulled yourself up, the material of your bikini top bunched and your nipple exposed.

That was the first time you felt a thrill, the blush that crept up on his cheek had your insides fluttering. Neither of you said anything though, you pulled your bikini top down and laid on your back. Though you could feel his eyes on you for the rest of the day.

Second time was when he had come round to drop round your dress you had left at his, he used his spare key when you didn’t answer and walked in. To his surprise you walked out of the bedroom with only your panties on, he just about exploded on the spot.

To be polite he pretended to be busy in the kitchen writing you a note, you knew he had seen, you’d heard him calling your name when he knocked on the door.

But you threw a jumper on and met him in the kitchen, neither of you talking about it. Though Drew dreamt about your perky full breasts for weeks to come, you dreamt about him bending you over the kitchen table and taking his way with you.

The third incident was when you were both at a party, and you had been grinding up on some guy. Drew watched from a distance, and when he noticed you went missing, he went looking for you.

And he didn’t expect to see you, skirt bunched at the waist and cock deep with the guy you had just been dancing with. Your eyes met briefly mid orgasm and he quickly stepped out of the room without saying a word.

Again neither of you spoke about it, his dreams now consisted of your boobs and the way your face scrunched up when you came. You dreamt about him calling you good girl and showing you a good time.

Finally, by the fourth time, Drew decided that he had had enough of pretending like nothing had happened. So when you walked out of your bedroom completely naked, and walked past your window Drew happened to be sitting by his bedroom window. When he noticed, he grabbed his phone and his keys and he raced around the block to your apartment.

The loud banging on your door gave you a fright, you grabbed your dressing gown, and raced over, looking through the peephole to see Drew, who looked frustrated. You quickly open the door for him, and he immediately pushes you back inside and slam the door closed.

“What's wrong Drew?” You asked, gripping the robe around your chest a little tighter, he stalks past you and starts pacing the room. “ Do you do this on purpose?” He questions, his fingers are massaging his temples as he stares at you.

“Sorry, what do you mean? I’m really confused”

This time you hadnt meant for him to see you, you were a little surprised at this visit, and very confused on what he was talking about.

“getting naked, flashing me”

“oh, maybe I do it on purpose, and maybe sometimes it just happens”

He stalks over to you and grabs you by the biceps, your heart beats a little bit faster, and your skin begins to feel clammy. You’ve wanted him to make the first move since you’ve known him.

But you can see the internal battle he is having with himself. so, you grab him by the face and smash your lips together in hunger. Your teeth nibble at his lower lip, he grants your tongue access.

“Wait, wait” he mumbles against your lips, pulling away from you. He’s not sure this is a good idea, it could ruin your 15 year friendship. But he really wants you, his dick already straining in his pants.

You pull the belt around your robe and let it fall from your shoulders to the floor. Drew’s eyes drink in your curves, his Adam’s apple bobs harshly as he swallows.

“Fuck it”

One hand finds your waist and the other grips your jaw. Pulling your body against him, he can feel the swell of your breasts against his chest. “I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time” you state, your arms wrapped around his neck.

He grips just under your bum and tells you to jump, your legs wrapping around him. Your arousal soaks his shirt as he walks you over to the kitchen table, your bum meets the cool wood. “You're so beautiful” he murmurs, he leaves open mouth kisses on your neck.

You dig your heels into his lower back and pull him closer to you, the buckle of his belt pressing firmly to your naked pussy, you let out a hiss and a shudder runs through your body. “I need you to touch me… please” you beg, he lifts his head from your neck and stares down at you.

You watch intently as he drops to his knees in front of you, he moves your feet so they sit on his shoulders. His eyes bore holes in your weeping cunt, your fingers grip the sides of the table. “Please”.

He runs a singer through your folds, your arms wobble from under you. “Oh!” You squeak, the tip of his finger swirls around your hole before he pushes it inside of you. “Fuck… you feel so good, squeezing around my finger so tight. Good girl”.

Your head meets the table, arching your back at his words. He inserts 2 more fingers just as he presses his tongue to your swollen clit, a loud cry leaves your lips.

You clenched around him, sucking his fingers in deeper. He was toying with your sweet spot, pushing you closer to your release. “Oh… faster please” you begged, your fingernails scratching at the polished wood underneath you.

His mouth toys with your clit, hot breath fanning over your pussy. “Fuck… I love the sounds you make” Drew professed, his fingers picking up speed within your pussy.

Your juices running down his fingers, the sound of your wet cunt sent the blood rushing to his cock, The sunset seeps through the glass windows, setting a romantic ambience. “I’m so close!” You cried, grinding your hips into his face.

He’s three fingers buried deep inside, knuckles disappearing within you. Tears trickled down your cheeks as your high finally reached you, your walls pulsating around his digits.

Your soft cries bounced off the walls. He didn’t let up his movements until you began to push him away, your pussy physically crying at his touch.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes met yours. Bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking, your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head in delight. “Such a good girl”.

“You like when I call you that don’t you” He states, he pulls himself to stand. Pressing his palms into your fleshy thighs, giving you a kiss on the jaw, cheek and finally lips. “Yeah” you breath, your pussy already begging for more.

“Can you kneel for me now sweet girl” he says in more of a statement than a question, you nod your head and move to sit in front of him.

His fingers hook under your jaw, lifting your head to look up at him. You bite your lower lip and wait patiently, your mouth salivating at the thought of his cock choking you.

“Be a good girl and take my dick”

You didn’t need to be asked twice, your fingers were on his belt in a matter of seconds. Stripping him of his lower clothes, he pulled his shirt over his head. Abs clenching when your fingers grazed his thick cock. “Can I?”.

His fingers grip your hair, your mouth sucking just the tip. The taste of pre cum on your taste buds, you squeeze your thighs together as you take him in. His cock hits the back of your throat, you gag slightly around him. “Such a good girl”.

You dig your nails into his thighs, pushing him further down your throat. Gagging and salivating around his cock, emitting loud moans from Drew above you.

His fingers tug at your hair, your pussy dripping all over your legs. Tears spill from your eyes as he assaults your face, the words good girl fall from his lips over and over until you're grinding against yourself for some release.

“Come here” he growls, pulling you away from his cock. He spins you around and pushes your hips into the dining table, holding both your arms behind your back. “I’m going to fuck this pussy like I do in my dreams, until the shape of my cock becomes imprinted on your walls”.

“Please Drew!” You cry, your cheek pressed against the table. One hand holds both your wrists while the other guides his cock to your folds, running them through to collect your arousal. “Oh fuck… I need you” you cry out.

He grips your hips and pushes inside of you without warning, a husky groan leaves his lips. You feel physically full, your walls fluttering around his girthy cock.

“Fuck…so perfect” he groans, his fingers dig into the flesh on your wrists. “Oh… fuck, I love your cock” you exclaim, his hips meet the swell of your ass cheeks with each thrust. You can feel his heavy balls against your clit, you wriggling your wrists but he doesn’t let you free.

“Such a good girl… I’ve wanted to fuck you from the moment we became friends” he admits, you let out a grunt of agreement. Pushing your hips back to meet him roughly.

“harder!” You order, you need him to give it his all. Your pussy needed to be abused by him, it weeped for him. Arousal soaking his thick cock, his movements quickened. Hands gripping onto your hips for support once more. “Faster!”.

He finally lets go of your wrists and you pull them in front of you, Your breathless moans are muffled by your biceps, burying your head against your skin. His fingers interlock with your hair and yank your upright, your back meeting his chest. “Don’t hide those sweet sounds”.

You cry out in pleasure, his hand sliding from your hair to your throat. He gives it a slight squeeze, the breath getting caught for a moment. “Fuck” you breath when he lets go, that breathless daze you get when your running out of breath washes over you. “Do it again”.

He gives you another squeeze and you claw at his arm, pressing your hips into him again. He pulls out of you and spins you around, pushing you back onto the table and entering you once more.

“Kiss me please” you beg, he grips your throat and presses his lips to yours. It’s hungry and passionate and you never want it to end.

“Oh god.. Fuck!” You cry against his lips, you clit rubs against the skin of his lower stomach. The familiar tingle begins to spread through your body, your pussy pulsating around his cock.

“I’m going to cum” you warn, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down onto your lip. He grabs your waist and angles himself deeper. He lets out a groan of pleasure, breathing harshly through his nose.

You can no longer hold on, letting the wave of pleasure hit you at full force. Physically shaking around him, toes curling and walls fluttering. You're soaking his cock, pure arousal dripping from every inch of you.

He’s right behind you, cock buried deep and spurting cum into you. You can feel him shudder and jerk against you, his moans and groans of pleasure filling the room. You press your lips to his as he cums, hands holding his face against yours.

“You did such a good job” he whispers, kissing your shoulder. You stay connected for a moment until he is completely limp, pulling out of you slowly. “Who knew I liked being praised so much,” you joked, your chest heaving.

He looks at you for a moment and quickly looks away, going to reach for his clothes. You grab him by the bicep and pull him back. “Hey, don’t stress Drew… I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a very long time, I just didn’t have the courage…Thought flashing you a few times would just get you to make the first move”.

“Well it worked… that was amazing, everything I ever dreamt about”.

“Oh baby… that’s nothing, I’ll give you an hour and we will go again”.

[readingbookelf]

The Defense Rests - Spike

Summary: The Scooby-gang holds an emergency meeting when they find out you're dating Spike.

Pairing: fem!reader x Spike

My Writing | Taglist

You’re at Giles’ home, currently being yelled at by Xander, who apparently saw you kissing Spike last night. Instead of just talking to you about it, in private, he called an emergency meeting. Hence the yelling while everyone else just stares at you.

“Spike is a psychotic killer and you’re handing yourself to him on a silver platter. Have you forgotten how he came into our lives? What he was going to do to Buffy for his precious Dru? Who is also nuts in the head, I might add,” Xander practically yells in your face.

“I did not forget, but I’ve used my eyes these past few months. Spike has helped us out more times than one, even when he didn’t need too. Also he hasn’t attacked anyone in months…” you trail off at the end knowing the only reason he hasn’t attacked anyone is because of the chip the Initiative has planted in his head.

Xander scoffs, ready for round two, but Buffy jumps in.

“Xander, you have to admit he’s helped us out… a lot in the past few months. Figuring out who the initiative is, what they do, even fighting demons or helping out with the latest threat. I’m not pro-Spike and I still don’t trust him, but if he makes y/n happy then that’s enough for me. Also I’m the last one to condemn anyone for dating a vampire,” Buffy finishes with a wink towards you.

“Thank you, Buffy,” you whisper.

“So we’re going to ignore the fact he would kill us all if he didn’t have that chip in his head,” Xander asks.

“Xander, last week you admitted that Spike has grown on you. What about all the times you spoke about ‘everything we’ve been through together’ just to try and convince Spike to help out? Don’t you think you’re being hypocritical,” you ask softly.

Xander scoffs but doesn’t make another move to convince you Spike is the devil incarnate.

“And on that note I’m out of here. I’ve got a bed that’s calling my name,” you say before getting up.

“Don’t you mean a certain someone who’s waiting for you in your bed,” Willow quips, wiggling her eyes.

Everyone groans.

-----

When you walk through your front door, you find Spike on your couch watching a movie.

“Home already or you haven't left yet,” you ask the blond man.

“Home for the night,” he replies while smiling at you cheekily.

That smile never fails to make you weak in the knees. You let yourself fall onto the couch next to Spike while letting out the biggest sigh of your life.

“The scooby doo-meeting was that bad, huh,” he asks. “The end of the world again,” he chuckles.

You look at Spike and see the concern shining in his eyes. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close into his side. You let your head fall on his shoulder and nuzzle close.

“The end of the world for Xander,” you scoff.

“What do you mean,” Spike asks.

“You were right that someone was watching us last night. After seeing us together Xander followed us and saw us kiss. Hence the emergency meeting,” you explain.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Spike exclaims while jumping up.

Immediately your hand circles around his wrist. You give a little pull to make him sit down again. He sighs and sits down next to you once more.

“Who does he think he is? He’s dating a vengeance demon for god’s sake,” Spike spits out.

You rub his shoulder trying to calm him down.

“There was a discussion. I defended you. Buffy jumped in. Everyone is more or less okay with it. I’m kind of done talking about this, Spike. Xander’s opinionated. I’ve seen the way he was with Buffy and Angel.”

You shake your head at the end. The uncomfortable memory resurfacing. He was so mean to Buffy. It’s hard dealing with the supernatural world as a human. You realise how fragile your life really is. It causes Xander to act out like this, and it’s not an excuse, but it gives him some leeway when he explodes.

“I still hate that you had to sit through that meeting all by yourself. I should’ve been there. I’m part of this relationship,” he says fiercely.

You take his hand and squeeze.

“You were. There was this little annoying voice that sounded a lot like you edging me on while I was defending you…and calling Xander names I won’t repeat,” you chuckle.

A twinkle lights in Spike’s eyes. He presses his lips firmly on yours. A moan slips past your lips by the sheer force of it all. Slowly you pull away.

“I like you. You like me. And everyone else can suck it,” Spike says before kissing you once more.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

newly-mated cassian x reader or azriel x reader finds out his mate is pregnant, and his primal protective instincts go crazyyyy,overprotective isn’t even the word, like if someone looks at her funny he has a knife to their throat. or imagine someone pushes her and she falls and he just beats them to the brink of death

Baby daddy

Let's be real Azriel is protective in general. This man makes it his mission to keep you safe. With all the fears of past and present enemies getting their hands on you... No, he simply won't let it happen. Not on his watch. So add a baby on the way to the mix. That's a recipe for an overly protective fea male.

And it's safety that involves anything and everything. It's not just him having his shadows on watch 24/7. It's not just him having a weapon on him constantly. It's not just him making sure that you constantly have someone watching over you. And no it's not only him growling at Madja when he notices even a slight sight of discomfort on your face during an appointment.

No, it's Azriel putting all the snacks in the bottom drawer because the night he saw you climbing the counter was the night he aged five hundred years and got a handful of greys. "Get off, get off", his shadows are all over you before he even steps forward, "But chocolate chip cookies, Azriel", you say. He's only shaking his head, "No spider mama, nonsense. You ask or you don't get any", and he means it lovingly but you're sobbing so much that he knows there has to be a compromise in this.

Bet you his shadows are spawning in front of you with a glass of fresh herbal water every thirty minutes and you have black blobs just patiently waiting for you to take it. Following you are until you do, "Tell your dad, I'll be peeing all night because of him", you mutter but all you get in response is a cool caress from the dark creatures.

And even if Azriel is not a naturally touchy person his hand is always on your bump now. Even before you're showing. It's there and it never leaves. Slowly stroking your skin. I feel like his brain would explode when he starts feeling a bump forming there. And that his palm is now moving in a somewhat round surface.

It's an ever-watching Azriel. His senses are a thousand times sharper. And it does lead him to step out of line. A baker looked at you funny because you bought four loaves of bread instead of one and asked for an extra butter spread. Well, congratulations the old man is now on the death list and Azriel's dagger is buried in the wooden counter. "You have an issue?", the words are so venomous. And the look. The spymaster look. The shadowsinger look on his face. And the baker only shakes his head. Adding an extra baked good for you. And you're walking down the street munching on it happily. Not noticing the chaos Azriel had awoken behind you. The shadows that are spooking the poor man shitless.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think that he would go as far as to lock you up. He knows his limits. And he knows he can be overbearing. But it comes from the heart. Az had already lost so much. Life had only been taken away instead of giving him anything. So now that he has you. And the baby. That quite frankly his whole world. His whole life. He's living for you two. So nothing is too much in his eyes. More like, nothing is enough in his eyes.

I feel like the people of Velaris would start calling you the goddess of darkness. Because once again half of Azriel's shadow population is with you. Twirling around you as you walk. Covering you from the harsh midday sun. Pouring all around you. And I see his shadows as literally creatures of their own so you would always have these little buddies keeping you company. Dragging the juiciest gossip from all over. And carrying all the baby bits you end up buying. And covering for you when you buy a little bit too much. Shhhh... don't tell Azriel.

And I doubt Azriel would go on long missions or assignments. Like half a day is the longest. No matter what he has to be home by dinner. There's no way he's agreeing to anything that breaks that rule. Because evenings are for him and you, and the baby. With him lying by your tummy, pressing light kisses all over your bump as he talks about his day.

[lvnleah]

001. | last game

word count: 2.7k

find the series masterlist here!

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May 27th 2023.

It was a bittersweet day. It was the last game of the 22/23 season in the WSL and Leah was out injured with her ACL and had been for the past month.

You watched on from the east stand with your wife, Leah, and her family at Meadow Park as the whistle blew for a final time this season. You and Leah gathered your things before making your way down to the pitch.

Leah joined the girls as they all formed a guard of honour for who was leaving the club. You watched on as Rafa said her goodbyes and the club presented Jordan with a framed shirt for her time at Arsenal as well.

Leah walked round the pitch to the best of her ability with the other girls, clapping and thanking the fans for attending while you and her family made your way onto the pitch. You were with Leah’s mum, Amanda, who you’d grown extremely close to in the four years you’d been with Leah.

You’d met Leah at sixteen at an England camp and out of the pair of you, Leah was the only one who went professional in football. You stopped playing when you turned eighteen because it didn’t feel right and ended up owning a small bakery.

You watched as Leah slowly walked around the pitch. She’d torn her ACL just over a month ago now and had recently had surgery a few weeks ago so her walking still wasn’t the best. You could tell that not being able to be on the pitch was killing her.

Leah finished applauding the fans before making her way over to you and her Mum, “Hey love, you alright?” Leah asked you, pecking your lips.

You nodded as she pulled you into a hug, “Yeah how are you?”

“Knees a bit sore,” she laughed, “Is it alright if we stick around for a bit?”

You nodded, “Yeah of course.”

You and Leah wandered around the pitch, hand in hand, as you said your hellos to different people and teammates. Everyone had their family and friends on the pitch, a few young kids ran around.

“Leah!” A little voice sounded. You looked down and saw a little girl, Kim’s niece, tapping Leah on the leg. Her little blonde curls bounced around on her head as she wore a mini arsenal kit. “Leah play with me?”

“I would love to!” Leah gasped, matching the little girl’s enthusiasm.

Leah grabbed a ball and made her way over to the penalty spot with the little girl, she placed the ball down before letting her kick into the goal. The fans erupted into a cheer as the ball went in, Leah cheered before leaning down the best she could and high-fiving the little girl.

A few other kids joined in and you watched on. You floated around, making small talk with people you hadn’t seen in a while.

“Y/N!” Beth smiled, embracing you in a hug as she held a baby. “How are you?”

You hugged her back, “I’m good, I should be asking you that.” You joke, “Who’s this little cutie?”

“I’m doing alright, sad I can’t be on the pitch,” Beth laughed. Beth herself was also out with her ACL as well as her girlfriend, Viv.. “This is Milo! Stole him from his Mumma, she’s a friend of mine and Viv's, he’s helping keep us entertained.”

You tickled Milo’s stomach, earning an adorable baby giggle, “Oh you’re such a cutie!”

You stuck with Beth and Milo, you and Beth got lost in a conversation as you wandered around the pitch. Every now and then you’d stop to say hello to someone else before continuing to wander around.

Leah was off playing to the best of her abilities with Kim’s nieces and nephews as well as a few other kids that had joined in. You, Beth and Amanda watched as she walked back and forth, giving each kid a turn at kicking the ball into the net.

Your heart warmed and your ovaries felt like they were going to explode, seeing Leah with kids made you feel full. Over the past few months, you’d seen Leah interact and look after her baby nephew which had built up this brodyness feeling inside of you. You’d been yearning for a baby for a while now and these past couple of weeks the talk of having kids had been brought up more.

The little kids ran back to their parents and Leah joined you and Beth. She wrapped her arms around your waist and placed a kiss on your shoulder.

“Who’s this little guy?” Leah cooed, tickling Milo’s stomach.

“Milo, he’s my godson.” Beth smiled, “little cheeky thing he is.”

Milo reached out, chubby fingers grasping at the air. Leah’s face softened, and she scooped him up, cradling him against her chest. Both of you played a game of peek-a-boo with Milo before handing him back to Beth.

As time wore on, the crowd started to leave and so did everyone on the pitch. Leah said her goodbyes to everyone before leaving with you and her mum.

You picked up a Chinese takeaway on the way home and took it back to your house, Amanda joined you two as well as Leah’s brother, Jacob. It was a simple yet perfect ending to a day filled with love and laughter.

Although you were occupied with spending time with Leah and her family, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Leah will all of the kids today. That same broody feeling still sat in your stomach, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about Leah holding and cradling Milo.

For a long time, you knew you wanted kids with Leah, it was something you’d talked about multiple times in the past. Reciprocal IVF was something you’d agreed on doing, you’d carry Leah’s egg and she’d carry yours when the time came. The only thought on your mind was starting a family with Leah all evening.

Amanda and Jacob ended up leaving late, meaning you and Leah climbed into bed as soon as they had left. You were both tired from a long and emotional day.

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” Leah asked as you slipped into bed beside her.

You sighed, “Le, do you still want kids?” Waiting for Leah’s answer filled you with anxiety, she could turn around and say anything.

A smile crept up on Leah’s face as she nodded her head, “Yeah, of course, I do. I’ve always imagined us with a few little ones running around, causing chaos,” she began to trace patterns on your thigh, “Do you?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding your head, “I do and I think I’m ready to start trying for a baby, Le. I think now’s the right time, I know you’re out injured but it feels right.”

Leah’s eyes lit up, “Really? You’re really ready?” You nodded your head once again, “I’ve been ready for a long time, baby. I just wanted to follow your lead with everything.”

“Seeing Milo and the others today, it’s like something clicked inside me. I want this with you, I want a family.” You admitted.

Leah’s smile was blinding. She cupped your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “God, I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

You and Leah spent the rest of the night talking about how you imagined your future. You made up little scenarios together, talking about all the things you wanted to do with your kids and show them all the different things in the world.

The next few days were spent researching IVF clinics and getting recommendations from couples you knew who’d done reciprocal ivf. You found one local to you that seemed right for you and Leah.

After a month filled with many phone calls and different health checks, you and Leah finally began the IVF process. It was the perfect timing, you’d had a month to think about everything but it also gave you a few months together before Leah went back to training.

You’d both agreed that you’d be the one to carry the pregnancy but you’d used Leah’s egg. Using Leah’s egg meant that Leah had to have a round of different injections every evening in order to stimulate her ovaries. Previous to starting the medications, you and Leah were both put on birth control to sync your cycles.

When it was time to stop the birth control, you and Leah had a long appointment with your IVF nurse who explained how to use all of the medications and how to give the injections. You practised giving the injections on fake skin, making you more confident within yourself.

“You ready?” You asked Leah as you finished wiping the area with an alcohol wipe.

Leah nodded, you could tell she was nervous, “That needle is so big…” She murmured, “Why’s it so big?!”

Leah felt stupid panicking over a needle when you were the one who was going to have to carry a baby for nine months and eventually give birth.

“It’s just a needle, Le.” you laughed at your wife, “You ready?”

Leah nodded once again, “I’ll look away.” She said, looking over your head at the blank wall behind her.

Leah took a deep breath and clenched her fist. The room seemed to hold its breath too. You pressed the plunger, delivering the medication that would help Leah’s body produce the eggs needed for the egg retrieval process. The needle slid in smoothly, and Leah winced, her eyes squeezing shut.

You held the needle in for five seconds, pushing the medicine in, “Done,” you whispered, pulling the needle out.

Leah exhaled, her knuckles white from gripping the edge of the bed. You stood up and kissed her forehead. “We’re really doing this.” Leah grinned.

As the days passed, you and Leah continued with the injections. You began to take estrogen to help prepare your own body for the embryo transfer while Leah carried on with her injections.

Every evening you’d give Leah her injections and every few days Leah would have monitoring appointments to track how her eggs were maturing and when she’d be ready for the egg retrieval.

While Leah was taking the injections, her body began to change. By day three you’d noticed how drained she was, she was much more tired and had started taking multiple naps throughout the day. She was also crying more often, Leah had always been an emotional person but she was even more emotional while taking the injections.

You came home from work one day to find her crying over a puppy video she’d seen on TikTok.

By day eleven, Leah’s eggs were mature and ready for the egg retrieval. You were lucky that it only took eleven days rather than the fourteen it could’ve been. Thirty-six hours before the egg retrieval, Leah had her trigger shot. It gave her a day to prepare before having her egg retrieval.

Leah’s egg retrieval was a smooth process. It was a midday appointment and Leah’s recovery hadn’t begun yet, meaning that Leah didn’t have to worry about booking time off. The sedation sent Leah into a sleep, Leah claimed it was the best sleep she’d ever had in her life.

She didn’t remember most of it but you were there when she woke up. She felt groggy and was soon discharged for you to take care of her at home. Amanda brought round a lasagne for you both which you enjoyed together on the sofa. That evening consisted of laying together in bed, Leah had a hot water bottle strapped to her stomach due to the intense cramps she was having.

You were told to expect anywhere between five and fourteen eggs to be collected from the egg retrieval but because Leah had endometriosis that it was probably going to be on the lower side. The next day, your doctor phoned you with the news of how many eggs you’d managed to get.

Luckily, you got seven eggs which took both you and Leah by surprise. You’d both prepared yourself to get a lower amount of eggs, both of you expected to get four or five but you got seven. Seven little eggs that would soon become embryos.

Following the retrieval, your doctor fertilised the eggs and continued to prep your body for the transfer. You and Leah chose to use your brothers sperm, meaning the baby would be related to the both of you. You took both estrogen and progesterone in hopes of preparing your body successfully, which it did.

Six days after Leah’s egg retrieval, you had your transfer. Out of the seven of the eggs that were taken from Leah, only five made it through. You decided to transfer just one egg and freeze the other four for future use.

“You ready to go, pretty girl?” Leah asked you from beside the door as you grabbed the bag.

You nodded your head as you picked up your bag and slipped your shoes on, “Mhm, let's go get me pregnant!” You joked.

You spent that morning cuddled in bed with Leah, she ordered you breakfast from McDonald’s which you enjoyed in bed together.

Leah drove you both to the clinic, the radio played in the background as you and Leah talked about random things. When you arrived, you didn’t wait around long before your doctor called you in.

You changed into a gown and had to put on a hair net, Leah had to put on a hair net too which you made sure to snap a photo of. Leah held your hand as the doctors performed the small procedure. They talked you through each step and you were even able to watch it on the screen in front of you.

Five minutes later, the procedure was done and you were officially pregnant until proven otherwise. A little image of your embryo was given to you and Leah as well as a box of pregnancy tests that you weren’t allowed to take until after the two-week wait.

“I’m so proud of you,” Leah murmured against your forehead as you stood outside of your car. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” you smiled before pressing a soft kiss to Leah’s lips. “I’m so tired.” You yawned.

Leah chucked, opening your car door, “Let’s get you home, pretty girl.”

When you arrived home, your body felt weak and tired. You headed straight for your bedroom and climbed into bed but when you opened your bedroom door you were met with a surprise.

A little gift basket was set on the end of your bed, filled with different goodies. You turned around and faced Leah, tears welling in your eyes.

“Le, did you do this for me?” You asked, a tear slipping down your face.

She nodded, “I had my Mum bring it round while we were out, have a look at it.”

You stepped closer to the bed and rummaged through the basket. It was filled with all of your favourite snacks, skincare stuff and a brand-new blanket. On top of the blanket was a note attached.

You reached for the note, unfolding it carefully. Leah’s handwriting was written across the page, each word etched with love. “What’s this?” You asked.

“Open it,” she urged.

—

To my pretty girl,

I love you so much, more than words can describe. I’m so grateful to be doing this with you and I’m so proud to be your wife. Thank you for giving your body up as a place and home for our baby to grow. I can’t wait to experience this journey with you. I promise to treat you like a princess for the next nine months.

Love you lots,

Le <33

—

Tears continued to slip down your face as you turned on your heels to face Leah. She engulfed you and a hug and held you close to her chest.

“These next nine months are going to be perfect, I promise.” Leah whispered into your hairline.

[emmg]

Imagine for a second everyone ends up happy and Lavellan and Solas get back together. Cue Dorian popping a blood vessel.

Dorian: “You’re back with this fuck?"

Lavellan, flustered: "I can explain—"

Dorian: "With this living omelette?"

Lavellan: "It's not—"

Dorian: "This balding crypt keeper with the emotional range of a brick wall and a wardrobe that makes him look like a discount drapery store threw up on him? The same one who poofed away after saying some cryptic shit about I WiSh iT CoUlD vHenAn?"

Solas: “The mark would have—"

Dorian: "Shut the fuck up, cue ball. I don't care if the mark was going to explode, you still look like you wash your clothes in your own self-pity. And you—" jabs a finger at Lavellan, "what’s your excuse? Has it really been so long that the sight of a naked skull and endless 'mystical' speeches turned you on again?"

Lavellan: “It’s more than that—"

Dorian: "More than that?! He abandoned you, took your fucking arm, and now you’re letting him back in your bed? Are you out of your mind or just starved for terrible decisions? You could’ve had anyone. But no, you pick the fade's worst motivational speaker.”

Solas: “Master Pavus, this is between—”

Dorian: “Oh no, don’t even try that ‘Master Pavus’ nonsense with me. You’ve got the emotional depth of a wet mop and a sex appeal that makes a mud pit look enticing. And yet here you are, again, trying to guilt-trip your way back into her pants with your world-saving speeches. What is it, Solas? You gonna whisper sweet nothings about 'the averted apocalypse' this time? Maybe throw in a lecture on why she was just not woke enough to understand your big, tragic plan but it's fine since everything worked out?"

Rook and Emmrich in their happy, non toxic relationship: :0

Solas: "Dorian—"

Dorian: "No, no, shut the fuck up. Seriously, what do you even do that’s remotely appealing? What did you do for the past ten years? Did you just sit there, staring at a wall, philosophizing about how it’s not 'connected to the Fade' while Lavellan was over there, not that far, mind you, actually trying to live her life?"

Lavellan, miserably: “Dorian, please—"

Dorian: "Do you know how many tears she cried over your wrinkly, bald ass? The sleepless nights? And for what? So you could show up with the same damn sad expression, like a dog that got kicked, expecting her to fall right back into your arms? Well, congratulations, you manipulative little twat, it worked. You got her again. But if you think for one second I’m going to sit here and let this farce play out without letting you know exactly what I think—"

Solas: “This is not your concern—"

Dorian, grinning viciously: "Not my concern? Oh, it’s my concern now, you ancient, egg-headed disaster. You took her arm, and now, what? You’re back for the other one too? What’s next? Gonna steal her dignity too? No, wait—" He flips both of them off. "You already did that. Honestly, Lavellan, were you that desperate? Did your standards drop so low that this walking mid-life crisis seemed like a good idea AGAIN?"

Lavellan, trying to hide: "I just thought—"

Dorian: "No, no, you didn't think. You never think when it comes to this pointy-eared monk reject. You just let him walk all over you with his cryptic, brooding bullshit and now here we are—again. Tell me, Lavellan, how many bad life choices does it take before you finally learn not to open your legs to misery?"

Lavellan: “Dorian—”

Dorian, rounding on Solas: "You’ve got some nerve coming back, Solas. You with your ‘oh woe is me, I didn't fix the world so I'll ruin this woman's life instead again’ schtick. And for what? What do you even have to offer besides a fucking headache and a masterclass in celibacy?”

[quietstormxr]

Healing Scars

Xaden Riorson x Reader

TW: This post contains mentions of self-harm, depression, and suicidal thoughts. If you find any of these things triggering, I suggest skipping this one.

Also, to anyone reading this feel free to message me if you're in need of someone to talk to. I know it can feel hard to believe in the low moments, but please know that there are those out there who do love you and need you in so many different ways.

If you are in the United States and need someone else to speak to, please try: National Suicide and Crisis Lifeline or dial 988 or (en Español).

Summary: As a daughter of the apostasy, you had no choice but to join the riders quadrant. Memories and your past do nothing but bring you down in every way.

A/N: Swearing, insinuated FW/IF spoilers

Word Count: 8k

This is probably the day I die.

The thought is both sobering and brings you an unfortunate sense of peace. After years of trying to hold onto a sliver of hope that things weren’t as bad as you thought, your mind had turned on you. 

Losing your parents to the apostasy was a blow that seemed to drag you under time and time again. The only thought pulling you forward being holding on for your younger sister. The way that she had looked at you that day as if you could rescue her from the nightmare the only picture stopping you so many times. The flash of dragon fire, the rush of pain flaring to life down your arm, the high-pitched scream from your sister that still rung in your ears six years later, and all of the memories sharper today than ever before.

‘Remember Y/N, you always need to take care of Flora. She’ll be looking to you to keep her safe.’ Your mother’s parting words to you constantly sounding in your ears. 

You tried to lock down the feelings you’d try to keep hidden, but the crushing weight of your directed fate weighed heavy on your soul. 

Looking up, your feet began to feel as if they are full of the stones holding up the fortress in front of you. No amount of description or facts listed could’ve prepared you for the force that was the war college you now found yourself in front of. 

You swallow thickly the bile and nerves that threaten to explode as you trudge towards the table with the rolls. However, nothing can mask the looks of disgust that you garner as you slog through the families saying their goodbyes. It seems every pair of eyes you pass stares at the black swirls that rage across your arm, a mark that noted, to them, you were the enemy. Yet, here you were, holding on by a single thread and not a threat to any one of them, let alone an entire kingdom.

As you walk up to the tables, you notice there is another child of the apostasy taking names. He looks up at you, but there’s no gleam of recognition, so he treats you as if you’re any other cadet. The hope that some of those would remember you diminishing little by little. Your parents were officers in Fen’s Assembly, but you were never one that fit into the group that would gather at Riorson House.

Realization that you’ll be just as alone here as you had been for the last six years hitting you hard. As you start making your ascent, your thoughts begin their incessant spiral. The thought of the way you were ignored and belittled by the other children in the orphanage in Calldyr leading to the blazing doubts you have about your own worth. 

Spending six years drowning in the passive aggressive taunts of the children of the orphanage, the endless punching bag for the staff, and the personal maid of the entire facility left you drained. You had no more tears, no more rage, no more screams, just nothing. Empty.

As you rounded the last few steps of the tower, you felt your face slacken. Devoid of all feeling and emotion, you found yourself finally at the top of the tower and across you could see the bridge that may just be the end of it all. 

Your eyes focus in on the narrow bridge as the cadets and candidates around you fade into the blackness around you. Your mind zoning in on the thought that you can finally forget. Forget the hurt, the burn of the anger, the sting of the pain, the fierce ache of the agony, the profound feeling of loss, the isolation of loneliness. 

Blindly walking forward as the next person in front of you does, you don’t notice the movement of the cadets that are taking names. You continue walking forward until you are the only one left before the opening of the stone bridge that looms to be your judge, jury, and executioner. 

As you go to take the next step forward, you are jolted back to the present by a firm hand tightening on your shoulder. You look to your left and are shocked to see a boy, no now a man, that causes your brain to ring with familiarity. Gone are the slightly rounded slope of his cheekbones and jaw, to now reveal a harsh slash of cutting bone along with a shadow of dark stubble.  Though you can’t help but notice how the color of his eyes and the sweep of his hair has remained the same, even though so much time has passed. The look he gives you is full of something you can’t quite understand, but at the same time you chalk that up to your own spiraling thoughts of nothingness.

“Y/N.” He says quietly as he looks back at you intently. The shock that he knows your name must flash brightly in your eyes because it seems his face falls slightly, as if disappointed you expected otherwise.

His hesitation at your shock doesn’t last though as he slightly lowers himself to speak in a hushed whisper only you can hear. 

“Make sure to keep your head up and remember if your pack falls, let it. I expect to see you on the other side.”

The second half of his statement leaves you with another flare of shock. Why would Xaden Riorson care if you made it across the parapet? In fact, if you were to fall that would be one less burden for him to carry. 

As if you said the thought aloud, you watch as his face falls into a slight frown while your brows furrow. Though you give him a curt nod before you continue to walk to the opening of the turret. 

The storm brewing inside of you seems to stretch to the skies as you look up and the rain begins to pour. You huff a laugh as you drop your head in a shake, hair now soaking and damp running down your back. Deciding to at least attempt to try, you pick your head up and slowly begin to put one foot in front of the other. 

As you step outside of the protective walls, you are blown to the side as a fierce gust of wind seems to batter at your frame. Through some blessing from Zinhal, you manage to stay upright. Before your thoughts have time to catch up, you find yourself stepping through the other side of the turret walls and entering the quadrant. The way your thoughts seem to drown out the trial ahead of you working in your favor.

You can’t help but huff as you give the rider your name. Surely you must be the only cadet who was hoping that you wouldn’t see the inside of the rider’s quadrant today. As soon as you say your name, you look around at your new personal hell and try to find the best corner to hide away in. 

Hidden. Invisible. 

_____________

Two weeks have passed, and you still find yourself alive. You huff a laugh at the thought while pulling your hood above your head. Who knew that the curse of this place for you would be the wanting to die and having difficulty doing so? At every turn, it felt as if any minute you could feel the release of death, but for some unknown reason, the axe had yet to fall completely.

You now find yourself creeping out of the dormitories in the middle of the night to convene with the rest of those cadets that are marked. Though you were invited by another cadet, you find yourself alone again making your way to the tree the other cadet had described. 

As your feet lumber to the meeting spot, you realize that you have been procrastinating as your pace becomes slower than a snail. You round the corner and see the group gathered under the tree, the words of Garrick slowly reaching your ears.

It’s then you realize this is the older riders trying to help. At the understanding, you stop entirely. There’s no reason for you to waste their time when your plan isn’t to survive or thrive in the quadrant. Instead of progressing forward or letting anyone see you, you slink into the shadows of one of the nearest trees and let your back hit the trunk and your body slide down to the ground.

You let your head fall back onto the tree and close your eyes. As you sit there, your hand seems to wander of its own accord to the dagger you have strapped to your thigh. You feel as your fingers brush the hilt that is carved with runes. Letting your fingers sink into the ridges of the hilt and tracing the dips and curves. 

Soon enough, your fingers have gravitated even lower and are ghosting across the sharp blade. You barely register when your own hand pulls the dagger from the sheath, and you begin to run the blade lightly up your thigh. 

As it skims around your waist, you bring the blade up to study it in the light. Hilt resting in your right palm, your left is now open with the shining blade laying across it. Your head tilts as your eyes begin to focus on the sharp silver glinting in your hand.

Vision tunneling, there’s nothing around you to stop the call of your mind to slash the gleaming metal across your palm. You can even imagine the well of the blood across the open wound and the slight sting that will accompany the damage. Before your brain can begin to bring the pressure to your hand, you’re shocked to find a black shimmering band coiling across your dagger.

Focus momentarily broken, your gaze is stolen by the way the shadows seem to coil and dance in your hands. Moments later your concentration is broken by the sound of footsteps through the grass beside you. You startle slightly when the large figure sits down next to you. 

His hand immediately darts to yours, taking the dagger from your grasp. As your gaze begins to sweep to his eyes, you watch as hand moves slowly and sheaths the dagger back at your thigh.

“Why didn’t you join the others?” He questions, an authoritative tone coating every word.

You shrug your shoulders struck with nothing but apathy. “Didn’t feel the need to, I suppose.”

Then you suddenly realize, through your own zoning out, you heard the words the man next to you said. 

“Didn’t you just tell that other first year to accept their fate and not take up any more of your time?” You retort your patience wearing thin when all you want is to slip into the darkness. 

“I was just sparing you from wasting your time.” The snap of your tone reverberating between you both in the darkness. With the anger flaring, you turn to get up and away from the man next to you, but you find yourself rooted to the spot when his hand clamps around your wrist.

“Yes, I did say that.” He snarls while looking at you with a gaze that could pierce stone. 

“Precisely, so please dear Wingleader, please just write me off in your books.” You can’t help the defiant tone that the man brings out in you. “I’ve always been an afterthought, a footnote in the story. At this point, I just want my story to reach the end.”

As you’ve continued speaking, you watch as the anger radiating from Xaden has grown to full wrath at your words.

“Why?” The one word turns your sulking into confusion as he continues to seem to study you, eyes burning. 

“Because I’m done. I’m tired of just existing.” The words leaving your mouth in an exasperated sigh. Your entire face falls, along with your body the fight draining from you. “Besides, why do you care? For all the years I’ve known you, you’ve said more words to me tonight than ever before.”

“You act as though people don’t see you. That they never have.” He argues. 

“They haven’t. The only reason I’m still here is because my parents told me I had to take care of my sister.” The derision in your tone is unavoidable as the force of the request begins to finally take its toll.

Xaden continues to study you as if this is the first time he’s actually seeing you. The scrutiny begins to gnaw at your insecurities, and you find yourself drawing into yourself. Sensing your hesitancy, his gaze softens. 

“Do you remember the first night you arrived at Riorson House?” He asks. You can’t help the furrow that sets into your brows as you contemplate his question. 

“Of course. It’s hard to forget feeling like an intruder when you’re fifteen years old and constantly moving around.” You sass at him.

His face falls ever so slightly while seeming to remember the night himself. “Yes, well that may be what it looked like to you, but things aren’t always what they seem.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“It means a beautiful girl shows up at a fortress filled with idiot teenage boys and they clearly didn’t know what to do.” He says with a reflective gaze levelled back at the moon. 

Your own bewilderment at his words can’t be hidden by the darkness of the moon. “You’re trying to tell me that you all avoided me because I was beautiful, and you were teenagers?”

The way your eyes roll and the scoff that leaves your lips is unavoidable. You can’t honestly believe anything coming out of this man’s mouth.

“Besides, I wasn’t the only girl there, was I?” You bark the tone of incredulity settled deep into your bones. 

“Just do yourself a service and forget I’m here. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough, I’m sure.” You continue rising to your feet and pull your hood back above your head. You let your feet carry you away from Xaden and back towards the citadel. 

As you make your way there, you try to shut off your mind, but can’t help the way it wanders at the words he said. Was he really being truthful or was it just a way to get under your skin and through your defenses?

You shake your head willing the thoughts away as you toss of your cloak and try to settle into your bed. Staring up at the bunk above you, you will your mind to settle as it continues to race with questions. If he wasn’t willing to help the other first year, why did Xaden stop you from slicing your own palm? What game was he playing at?

__________

Though you haven’t tried, the work of the rider’s quadrant has seemed to overpower your raging thoughts. The training, the fights, the academics, all holding your focus more than you thought possible. No matter what you tried, you were never able to completely give up the rouse of trying. Maybe it was the years of pushing through, maybe it was just the curse of never wanting to let anyone down, but you threw on a face of interest and found yourself being friendly and clicking with your squad mates.

In the dark cover of night, while everyone else was asleep you could finally drop the mask and let the emptiness settle into your bones. As an expert at sneaking past the patrols of the halls, you learned the times that they would be on your barracks block. 

Moving quietly through the halls, you scaled the stairs of the academic tower to the top. The latch of the now familiar door slightly creaking as you lifted the hatch to move to the roof. A huff leaves your lips as you think of someone you know finding you up here. The shock of their face as you balance on the precarious slate tiles that line the roof. Sitting down, you hear the unmistakable roar of a dragon as you look to the sky. The sight of the creatures now becoming a permanent fixture in your mind.

The thought sobering as you find yourself moving closer and closer to Threshing and the certainty you have in your mind that no dragon will find you worthy. 

Better yet, maybe one will be merciful and incinerate me onsite.

The thought coils around you like a blanket as you move further down the slope of the roof. Feet dangling over the side, you recline yourself on the tiles as you begin to throw your dagger in the air, the silver glinting menacingly in the moonlight. 

Hours pass and you don’t even realize, caught in the churning of your own thoughts and the mesmerizing twirl of your dagger. Rays of gold and orange begin to crest on the horizon, and you know it’s time for you to make your way back down towards the barracks to avoid being seen. 

As you turn to get up, you feel one of the tiles begin to shift. Before you can think of a way to move without disturbing more, you find your knee falling back into the roof tiles. The reverberation through your body throwing you forward, and your face colliding with the slate. Even before pulling your face up, you can feel the warm trickle of blood that is now staining your right cheek.

Mentally cursing yourself, there’s now no way to avoid a large bruise and cut to your cheek that you’ll have to come up with a story for. The small door creaking again as you open the hatch back up to get to the stairs. Continuing to climb down the spiraling staircase, you wipe at your cheek and realize that there is still a stream of blood flowing. The scarlet staining your fingers drags your attention away from the stairs and the hall around you tunneling your vision as you study your reddened fingers.

It isn’t until you realize that you’ve entered back into the sunlight of the rotunda that your awareness returns. As you look up, you lock onto a gaze you never expected to see. Eyes begin to scan your body up and down, a sliver of concern lancing through the golden flecks. You bring your hand down to your side, wiping the blood on your pants as you move on from the gaze and begin walking again. 

You hear the footsteps before you feel the hand that clamps around your arm turning you towards the man. 

“What the hell happened, Y/N?”

“Nothing.” You reply tearing your arm away from his grasp. 

“Nothing doesn’t leave you with a split cheek and bruising on your face.” Xaden growls back at you while going to loom over you.

“You’ll be surprised to find that intimidation doesn’t work with me Riorson.” You bite back. “If you must know, I tripped. Happy?”

You go to step around him as he continues to eye you with suspicion. Suddenly a flash of horror flies across his face and his hand is braced firmly on your arm again. 

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” He hisses the anger rising in his irises. 

“Maybe I am. What’s it to you?” He rears back at your words as if you slapped him across the face. You watch as his gaze burns changing from anger to concern, searching your face as if looking for another answer.

“Do you really think your life isn’t worth saving?” Xaden breathes as if he’s trying to convey something that you just don’t understand.

You just shrug your shoulders back at the brooding Wingleader, your nonchalant attitude causing his shoulders to droop. However, the next thing you know, he’s squaring his shoulders again and hardening his stare. “Come on, you’re going to the healers to get that taken care of.”

As he turns and begins to tug you by your hand, you try to pull back your hand. “I’m fine.” You argue as you continue to try and pry your wrist from his grasp. 

He whirls around and you take a slight step back. Realizing his own actions, he slows his movements as he brings his hand to your face. His thumb gently brushes over the cut moving some of the blood from the cut and you slightly wince at the pain. Golden flecks seem to disappear as he watches the movement cross your face.

“You aren’t.” He says quietly. “Will you please go to the healers with me?”

Unsure if it’s the tone of his voice or the gentleness of the question, but you give a curt nod in affirmation before he’s gently pulling on your wrist again and leading you to the healers. 

And not for the first time your interaction with Xaden has left you bewildered. 

The scent of healing herbs assaults you as you enter the healers and take a seat on one of the waiting beds. Waiting for the healer to come in, you can’t help but study the man that seems to always pop up during your lowest moments. As if he feels you study him, he picks up his head from the chair he is seated in, and his gaze rises to meet yours. You watch as his brow furrows in confusion.

“Who were you fostered with?” He asks as he tilts his head as if trying to piece together a complex puzzle.

You look back at him with a quizzical expression wondering why it could possibly matter where you were.

“No one.” You reply flatly looking at the questioning onyx eyes as he raises his scared brow. “I was sent to an orphanage in Calldyr because none of the families wanted me.”

It’s surprising to see the amount of shock that passes across his features as you go quiet after revealing this information. You can feel as the tension in the room seems to rise as neither one of you speaks. In a bid to break the heaviness that has settled between you, you decide to share what happened that day.

“While we were waiting with the rest of the children to be chosen, Lady Hawtrey took an interest in my sister and took her back to Grenmont Hall.” You continue with a shrug. “But after they left, no one gave me a second glance. My parents weren’t well known enough for me to draw interest I suppose. Or at least I wasn’t that interesting to anyone.”

A remorseful Xaden Riorson is a sight that you never thought you’d see in your life, yet here he is looking like he’d give anything in the world to change what happened. The golden shine in his eyes when he looks up at you causes your breath to catch in your throat. 

“No one told me that anyone ended up in the orphanage.” He breathes quietly, the weight of your circumstances weighing down his shoulders.

You can’t help the way you reach out instinctively to comfort the man in front of you placing your hand over his.

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” The conviction in your voice causing it to rise slightly. The situation you had found yourself in after your parents’ death wasn’t ideal, but you knew you couldn’t let the man in front of you take the blame. “You were only a teenage boy making decisions for the fate of over a hundred children. Nothing like that should have ever fallen on your shoulders.”

The look in Xaden’s eyes as he looks back at you could be mistaken for reverence, but your mind knew that there was no way a man like him would ever look at you that way.

The spell between the two of you is suddenly broken when the healer enters the room. As she begins to fuss over your injury, you watch as Xaden rises and moves to the corner of the room. 

“My goodness, how did you manage to get cut by slate?” The healer asks almost to herself as you feel her pull a small sliver from the cut. “I can’t even remember any slate that is on the grounds, except for the roof.”

You slightly wince at the revelation she makes, and Xaden must’ve seen your face because the softness of his eyes is gone, and the hard steel of his stare is back. The next thing you know he’s turning and walking out of the room. You let your shoulders droop as suddenly a sense of guilt overwhelms you. You try to shake it, but the feeling that you’ve disappointed Xaden sits heavy on your chest. You look up trying to blink back the tears that are now stinging your eyes, but nothing seems to stop them from falling down the side of your face.

After being given clearance to leave, you slowly walk back towards the riders quadrant and your mind can’t help but wander to your interaction with Xaden. As you go over the morning, you think maybe you aren’t as alone as you thought you were.

___________

Then the day that you know will change your life one way or another arrives.

Threshing.

As you stand with the other first-years, you can’t help the way your mind reels at the fact that you’ve even made it this far. You sway back and forth on your feet feeling the daggers on your body shift in their sheaths. The band of the bow hanging across your body heavy with the possibility of use. 

You scan the crowd looking at the people around you and can see the looks of fear and even some that have a hint of blood lust in their eyes. You know however that you have resigned your fate to whatever the gods expect to happen today. 

While checking your sheaths one last time, your brows furrow in confusion as your hand clamps onto a paper that was crumpled in one of your empty ones. Pulling the paper out and hiding it in your palm, you quickly read the hastily scribbled note. 

You are worthy and important. Never forget that.

You try but come up blank when you try to decipher who’s handwriting this could possibly be. Before you can stop to give it more thought, the whistle blows, and you find yourself stepping forward to meet whatever fate lies ahead for you in the forest.

Hours later, you begin to feel a pull and find yourself moving further and further into the darkness of the forest. You had left behind several dragons and even some cadets that seemed out for blood, skirting through the shadows of tree cover.

Coming to the front of a cave, you begin to hear harsh breaths whooshing from the entrance. Taking a deep breath, you begin to slowly trek into the gaping maw of the cave. Unsure if you’ve just walked into a trap of your own making, voices are now floating to you on the wind. 

Trying to squint to acclimate your sight to the dimness of the cave, you can barely make out the outline of two other cadets. However, those figures are not what causes your breath to catch. There in the dim glow of the cave you can see the slight gleam of a shiny black or blue dragon, the miniscule light from the cave opening illuminating the scales with every color. Your eyes widen as you take in the size of the creature that is laying on the ground appearing not to be concerned with the other two cadets that have swords drawn in front of it.

“Come on dragon.” You hear a male voice taunt. “Which one of us are you going to find worthy?”

“Yeah,” an unmistakably female voice adds. “Let’s get going with this choice of yours. We need to get back to the celebrations.”

A large puff of steam leaves the nostrils of the large dragon, clearly a huff of annoyance. As you continue to watch the scene, two glowing golden orbs focus on you.

‘Are you going to take care of these two or are you going to make me?’ A rough female voice cuts through your thoughts.

Your eyes blow wide as understanding punches you in the gut.

“You think I’m the one you want?” You can’t help but voice the thought. 

The minute the question leaves your mouth, a breathless curse soon follows. Now both cadets have turned to you and have their weapons drawn.

“Looks like we’ll need to take care of this one first.” The male drawls while starting to slowly step towards you.

“What makes you think a dragon like that would find you worthy?” The female taunts as you watch her begin to move towards you as well. “You’ve barely been squeaking by in this quadrant. What better way to earn a dragon than take out one of the weak links.”

“And a traitor at that.” The male voice adds.

You can’t help but bristle at their words, although the ever-present nagging voice does nothing but agree with the sentiment at least about being a weak link. Not waiting to weigh your options, you remove the bow from your back and go to nock one arrow. Trying to analyze who is the bigger threat works against you as the male figure begins to charge towards you. As you pull the bow tight, you take a deep breath hoping that your aim is true in the dim light of the cave.

You loose the arrow and it strikes true hitting the cadet in the left side of his chest. As you watch him slump down, you suck in a tight breath when you feel the bite of a dagger split your side. You quickly look up to see the female stepping slightly back a wicked sneer across her face. Swiftly drawing your own dagger, you don’t think twice before letting it fly. 

Unfortunately for you, the girl dodges and swings back in an arc slicing your forearm. You quickly turn yourself and draw a second dagger from the sheath. Circling the girl, you notice that she must have been hurt already as she’s limping away from her left side. Without dwelling on your options, you surge forward and crouch low while aiming your dagger for the back of her knee. 

Not expecting you to squat low, you hear the slice of the blade as the girl’s dagger slices through air and then the scream of pain as she falls to the floor. You turn over your left shoulder and go to stand. You feel as your ankle is tugged back, and you scream when her blade pierces your calf. 

Dragging yourself forward, you grab an arrow that had fallen to the ground. You bring it over your head and with force drop it down on the back of the girl’s hand. With your leg immediately released, you scramble up and limp to where your bow had fallen to the ground. Nocking the second arrow of the day, you take a deep breath and exhale letting the arrow fly into the girls back as she tries to scoot away. 

With both threats eliminated, the feelings of guilt hit you with full force knocking the remaining breath from your lungs. The darkness of the cave seems to coil around you, letting your mind wander to all the reasons you should be the one with an arrow in your back.

‘Do you always deem yourself unworthy?’ The rough female voice slides through your mind again breaking you from the spiral of your thoughts.

Your gaze flies back to the two glowing orbs that are a stark contrast to the darkness from the cave.

“I haven’t had any reason to find myself worthy.” You reply though you can feel the smallness of your own voice.

You stall in fear as the dragon stalks towards you, the golden eyes narrowing on you. It’s in that moment if you wonder if she will incinerate you out of sheer annoyance. Before you can take your next full breath, you find yourself being nudged back by her large snout.

‘You now have no reason to doubt your worthiness.’ She says as her eyes continue to narrow on you. You swallow thickly as your mind begins to wonder if it’s too late to run.

‘You will not run from me, Y/N L/N. You are my rider and are more laudable than most cadets on that field. Come.’ She raises to her full height before beginning to stalk out of the cave.

Your feet seem bolted to the floor as the large shadow of the dragon passes overhead. You watch as she stalks out and looking at the opening of the cave, you can see that the darkness has descended on the forest as well. 

‘My patience is wearing thin. Come now and mount, Treasured One.’ Her voice brooks no room for argument, and you follow the orders of the dragon in front of you.

Its then the pain of your injuries rears back, and you hiss in pain as you begin the trek out of the cave. You have your palm pressed to your side as you try to staunch the bleeding from the wound. 

‘Take off your shirt and hold the wound closed. The faster you do this, the faster you can record our bond and seek medical attention.’ 

You look up at your commanding dragon and give a slight nod as you begin to lift your shirt over your head. You take the sides and secure it on your uninjured side and then look up at your dragon again. Your eyes now slowly roam over the expanse of the indomitable creature in front of you and your eyes widen. This must be one of the largest dragons you’ve ever seen.

“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to mount.” You say as you worry your lip between your teeth.

‘Do not be silly. I’ve seen what you are capable of. Stop stalling with your self-doubt and mount.’ She says as she brings her head slightly down for you to see the sweeping horns and glinting scales of her face.

At this point, you know there is no reason for you to keep arguing, lest you’re incinerated for petulance. You take as deep of a breath as possible with the sear of the pain from your side still radiating and run towards the dragon’s leg. With all the effort you have left, you manage to make it to her shoulder and carefully step to take your seat. 

As soon as you find yourself seated correctly and grabbing the pommel, your stomach bursts into your chest as you feel your dragon leave the ground.

‘My name is Candrirnome of the Uarraig line, but you can call me Candrir.’ She informs you as you begin to see the field come into view.

You hum in acknowledgement in your mind, though you find everything taking on an edge of fuzziness. Holding your hand to the wound at your side, you pull it away to feel the sensation of warm blood coating your palm. 

‘It’s time for you to tell the roll keeper my name and get medical attention swiftly.’ Candrir orders as she lands with a gentleness you weren’t expecting. 

You slowly get up, limping as the dripping of your wounds begins to take your strength and slide down her leg with the grace of an elephant. You tumble forward when you reach the ground and land on your hands and knees. You hear a menacing growl above you and as you go to look up, you find yourself being hoisted up to your feet by your waist.

As you look down to figure out what has a hold on you, your brows furrow when you realize shimmering shadows are wrapped around your waist trying to pull you to your feet. You shake your head clearing some of the haze and begin slow steps to the podium. 

After giving your dragon’s name to the roll keeper, you slowly trudge to the medical tent. 

‘Let him help you, Treasured One. The dragons will return soon.’ Candrir relays in your mind.

Your brows pull in with confusion etching on your face as you finally can see the opening of the medical tent. You know you must be a sight to see, your shirt tied around you, limping from multiple wounds, and your chest bindings on full display along with scars that you had so far kept hidden. 

As you finally enter the tent, you feel someone place a jacket over your shoulders and you immediately turn behind you trying to assess the new threat. Surprisingly enough, you look up into concerned eyes, the color indiscernible in the dim light. The quick action has the wound in your side pulling and you double over as a fresh wave of pain radiates down your body. 

Two arms grab you behind your back and knees bringing you to the nearest cot. You feel as warm hands untie the shirt that is holding your wound together and can’t help but hear the way his breathing stops when he sees the wound.

Your eyes begin to close as the exhaustion of lost blood hits your abused body, your breathing turning shallower than before.

“Hey” the man before you says quietly but with command, while gently shaking your shoulders. “You need to open your eyes. Come on, you need to stay conscious.”

“Open your eyes. You didn’t survive Threshing and bond a dragon to die in a medical tent.” The command in his voice rising as your eyes continue to drift closed.

The words finally registering, you do your best to open your eyes to the man in front of you.  Your brain immediately notices the way his eyes have turned to pure obsidian, losing all the soft golden hue. 

Your words rasp as you tease. “Careful Wingleader, someone might think you actually care.”

The immediate scoff that leaves his mouth has you turning your head away. 

“No, if you can tease me, you can keep your eyes open. Nolon is on his way.” He says while he turns your face back to his gently. 

As if being summoned, Nolon appears next to you and immediately begins cleaning the wounds you’ve sustained to mend them. You hiss in pain as the antiseptic hits the wound in your side relieving some of the blurring that had been overtaking your vision.

“If you are going to stand here Riorson, I suggest you keep her distracted. This wound is deep and will take a few minutes to knit back together.” Nolon tells Xaden while continuing his work cleaning the wound. 

“Here Cadet L/N. Bite down on this strap, I’m sorry but this isn’t going to be pleasant.” Nolon explains as he places a leather strap in your mouth. 

The next thing you remember is the wound beginning to burn as you feel the deep gash being magically healed. Everything in you wants to scream, but you just bite down as hard as you can and close your eyes. You can feel your face contort in pain, your eyes and brows furrowed tight. Your breathing turns labored as you try to focus past the pain that seems to be radiating from your every pore. 

As the pain of mending begins to subside slowly, you suddenly register the rub of calloused fingers over your knuckles. Finally opening your eyes, you look up to see Xaden with a concerned concentration staring at the wound on your side, almost as if he is trying to use his own power to mend you. As you stare at the brooding Wingleader, you can’t help but wonder exactly what is going through his mind. 

Why does it seem like he’s always in the right place at the right time, at least for you? What exactly are you worth to him?

It's as if your own thoughts were said out loud as his gaze swings back to you. The stare that he gives you makes you feel like he sees entirely too much. Your own musings over the complicated man in front you are broken when Nolon finally takes a step back. 

“Everything seems to be stitched up.” Nolon says to both of you. “However, you will need someone to assist you to get back to your dragon and to your new room tonight.” 

Nolon finishes before walking off to tend to his next patient. You take a few deep breaths trying to will away the lingering pain from the wound and its mending. Feeling steady enough, you put both your hands on the side of the bed and go to get off before a hand comes out and stops you.

“Didn’t you just hear the mender? You’re going to need someone’s help. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” He says flatly as if you are a naïve little child that needs to be scolded for not listening. 

“Of course, I heard him, but regrettably for me, I don’t see anyone volunteering to be my nursemaid. Besides, I can’t exactly look weak to the ones that are still looking for a dragon to bond. That’s how I got myself into this mess in the first place.” 

You huff out in irritation and begin to turn on your heel, but the minute you try to pick up your foot, you feel yourself falling to the side.

“Can’t you just listen for once.” He says tersely as he pulls you into his side beginning to walk.

Irritation bubbling through you, you can’t help but retort. “Can’t you just let me die.”

His steps falter immediately, and you must brace yourself as you feel your body beginning to fall. You squeeze your eyes shut, but for some reason the contact with the floor doesn’t come. You open your eyes to see yourself again wrapped in bands of onyx shadow. The wielder of said shadows still looking at you as if you’ve just called him the most offensive name on the continent. 

“You can’t honestly mean that.” He says, though you’re unsure as to why his voice is so quiet. 

“You’ll find I very much do. That’s what happens when you find yourself alone day after day and crying yourself to sleep night after night.” It seems the blood loss has loosened both your tongue and your ability to filter your mouth because everything you try to keep hidden begins to spill out. 

“Day after day waking up just wanting one person to give enough of a damn to be there. To show that you are important, that you’re wanted. To hug you just because you mean something to them. To sit with you and enjoy something simple. But alas, how would you know what that feels like? You have a found family and friends that look to you and have your back. Hell, almost the entire quadrant has some kind of feeling about you. You may wield shadows, but you don’t live in them. I do.” As you finally shut your mouth, you can feel as dragons begin to land back around you. You cast your eyes down and slowly begin the walk back to your spot next to your dragon leaving the Wingleader behind you.

_______________

Days pass and you find yourself wishing for the bitter bite of the incoming winter chill. Something to distract you from the hurt that you inflicted on a person who was only trying to help you in your time of need. Since the night of Threshing, you haven’t been able to meet the gaze of your Wingleader. Every time you find yourself in the same vicinity, you immediately dart as far away as possible. 

Reminiscing on all the words that escaped your mouth, you can only cower in shame at having said that to the man who watched his home, father, and city burn and then go through the brutality of taking responsibility for 107 children to save them from the same fate.

Wrapping your fur lined cloak over your shoulders, you slink through the shadowed corridors and find yourself underneath the same tree that you had your first conversation with months before. As your nervous habit dictates, you remove one of the daggers from the sheath at your thigh and begin to twirl it through your fingers.

It isn’t long before you begin to feel the presence of someone in the clearing with you. You hear the snap of a branch to your left and immediately get to your feet with your dagger poised to strike the intruder.

“Hard to believe you’ve survived this long with a fighting stance like that.” The voice says. 

You immediately roll your eyes not interested in the critique of your fighting style. 

“Yeah, well, I get by.” You sass irritated and sitting back down trying to get back the calm you had before the intrusion. 

You mentally curse when Xaden comes to sit down next to you. With an exaggerated sigh, you bring your face to look at his not trying to hide your irritation at the disturbance. 

“Can I help you with something or are you just here to intrude on my solitude?” You muse to your new companion.

“Intrude on your solitude, now why would I do something like that?” He teases back at you.

“Oh, I don’t know, because you just excel at irritating people.” You say while waiting for the man next to you to look you in the eyes. “Or is that your second signet, shadows and irritation?”

A look of shock passes over his features, and you furrow your brows almost thinking you imagined the gesture. You gently shake your head to yourself as you realize it must’ve been a trick of the light. Quiet falls between you as your head falls back to the tree you had been resting on. As the guilt of after Threshing hits you again, you can’t help but break the silence.

“I’m sorry.” You begin, the hesitancy in your voice very present. “I – I shouldn’t have said what I did. It isn’t fair to me to put that on you. Of all people, you have carried a weight heavier than all of us.”

You lower your eyes the heavy weight of your accusations sitting on your chest. You feel as his fingers lightly grab your chin and begin to bring your face back up to his. 

“You don’t need to apologize.” He says in a soft tone you’ve never heard from him before. “I know all too well the dark places your mind can take you, especially after everything we’ve been through.” 

You don’t miss the soft snort he gives before continuing. “Hell, the things we go through on a daily basis are enough to bring most people to their knees.”

A comfortable silence spreads between you both as your face turns to look back at the stars. 

“Thank you,” You begin quietly after some time has passed. “Thank you for all the times that you have saved me. Those are the words I should’ve told you after Threshing, but sometimes all the scars just feel too heavy.”

You take a deep breath and let your hands fall to your sides resting on the grass on either side of you. Seconds later you are caught off guard by a warm calloused hand wrapping around your own, intertwining your fingers. 

“Sometimes you need someone who has scars to let you help you heal yours.” He muses while looking up at the stars, thumb slowly stroking over your own. 

Even though he isn’t looking directly at you, you can see the way his features have softened as you sit there watching his profile. Memorizing his features, you can’t help but take a deep breath and think that maybe you mean more to the man in front of you than just another child of the apostasy. 

[itstheghostofmypast]

Wins & Losses

Idol Seonghwa x (F)Reader

Summary: It wasn't fair. Just because you loved someone didn't mean you let them win- but did that justify cheating?

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 631

Warnings: None

Est.Read Time: 3 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Ratings: PG-13

Banner: @cafekitsune

"If she doesn't love you after she sees your LEGO sets, she's not the one." The younger man huffed, readjusting his beanie as he flopped down next to the man who was spam-texting someone, chewing on his lower lip as his thumbs hovered over the screen for a moment, when he saw the familiar three dots appear.

"That's not why she's upset." He mumbled, letting out a sigh in defeat when the sender stopped typing.

"She's got you smitten."

The two looked up at the man standing there in a pink apron, holding up a spatula - this was going to be good - snapping his fingers, he pointed at the eldest, "She's got you on your knees, look at you, ready to apologise for your nerdy hobbies so she doesn't leave you."

"Again," Seonghwa rolled his eyes before going back to typing, "That's not why she's upset."

"Are you over compensating-"

"SHE'S MAD BECAUSE I CAN BUILD SETS FASTER THAN HER, OKAY!"

The two looked at each other before looking at the man who looked like he was about to explode, "It's not my fault I have years of experience, this is a skill that is learnt over time with patience and gratitude, you can't rush through it like a chore!"

"I wouldn't be surprised if she leaves you, you goddamn nerd!" Mingi exasperated before going back to the kitchen, mumbling on about how there aren't any good men left these days, no wonder Seonghwa's lover wanted to dump him- mind you she did not.

"Hyung...why don't you...let her win?" San asked meekly, knowing the reaction might not be good, especially when the silky haired man carded his fingers through his locks, turning to the feline featured man with his chest all puffed out and ready to let out a dragon like roar.

"Listen here you -"

Ding-Dong

"I'LL GET IT!" Running for his life he opened the door, letting out a breath of relief when he looked down to meet a determined gaze, a small smile gracing his lips, when he noticed a bag in her hand, "He's in the living room."

"Thank you." She mumbled, marching past the man to her own idiot, as she walked into the living room and glared at the man who peered at her through his glasses.

Tossing the bag on the couch between them, he glanced at the bag before peaking in and raising a brow at the multiple LEGO sets inside, then looking back at her.

"No headbands, no tank tops and no glasses." She announced, discreetly listing the reasons why she lost the last time- sure his hands where bigger too and he had longer fingers that were swift in movement and so pretty to stare at- she was destined to lose everytime, wasn't she?

"Deal."

With that, he stood up, hooked a finger in the loop of the plastic bag while clasping his free hand in hers, leading her to his room, knowing that this time he'd actually lose, because all those things that he was told not to do, were his winning tactics, otherwise he'd end up getting lost in her eyes, adoring the expressions she was making, the way she'd be radiating an aura of determination.

Truth be told, he did all he could to distract her in the last seven rounds, even went as far as opting for a steamy makeout session, just to leave her dazed, disoriented and distracted enough to catch up on his set and eventually win.

As he closed to door he sighed, turning to look at her with a big pout, his boba eyed cute face to earn her favour as he mumbled, "If I ask nicely would you let me win?"

"Did you let me win the last time?"

"I thought my girl would be the bigger person."

"Should've thought of that before smearing my lipstick you cheap cheater."

A bubble of laughter ripped through his chest as he walked towards her, arms wrapping around her waist, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, "What can I say? I just wanted the winning prize so bad."

"Oh?" She snorted, arms wrapped around his neck, twirling a lock of his soft hair between her fingers, gazing up at him as he moved closer, pressing his forehead against hers, "What's the winning prize?"

"You."

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a

[atrophiedemotion]

ivantill cafeteria scene analysis

keep in mind that this is fully just my personal opinion and interpretation of the scene okay cool

the cafeteria scene from round 6 has always been really interesting to me, and i've seen a lot of people take it different ways, so i just wanted to walk through my view of it because it's such a telling scene about their dynamic more recently than as kids

the scene starts with a shot of till during the round that looks to be from ivan's pov, showing us what he's seeing in the moment, and flashes back to one of ivan's memories from anakt.

considering the almost identical expressions till is wearing in both shots, it seems to be ivan thinking back to a time he saw till look the way he does in round 6- miserable, hopeless, defeated. like he's given up.

we then see ivan noticing till's apparent resignation and shitty mood (because of course he notices, it's his personal watching till time after all), then getting up to go bother him. i say 'bother him', and it definitely looks like that's what he's doing, but i don't think that's ivan's goal. i think ivan's goal is to comfort, or at least distract till.

despite their juvenile fights, we've never seen ivan actually want to cause till true harm. his lyrics in both black sorrow and cure are caring and reverent, making it apparent that ivan really does just love and care for him and just wants to be able to do things for till. this is furthered ofc by the whole post-club scene where ivan looks absolutely devastated seeing the state till is in.

i always reference back to my mirroring post bc it explains the way i imagine ivan's train of thought, and it applies here again. ivan does not know how to comfort till in a conventional way (probably for a few reasons; till is different from the other students, both in the way he acts and displays his emotions, and in ivan's opinion of him. till is special to ivan, he usually drops his mask around him so meaningless platitudes wouldn't be right) but he does know how to get till's attention on him and out of his own head.

all this being said- what ivan does next:

he swipes his hand across the cut on till's cheek. yeah, i know, definitely not what most people would consider 'comforting their friend' but that's what makes sense to ivan. 'how could i possibly distract him if he seems to ignore me most of the time?' (for now looking past the fact that till actually seems comfortable in ivan's quiet company, ivan's too single-focused to realize that)

and, well, i mean. he's right. till gets visibly disgruntled. he doesn't exactly look pissed as much as he looks caught the hell off guard, but it grabs his attention.

ivan, on the other hand, looks almost fond to me. i don't know, i just don't really think he looks smug even though i'm assuming that might be the general consensus. he almost seems a bit soft. to me, it looks like he's adoringly thinking, 'it worked. there, no time to be sad anymore, huh?' he probably is proud of himself for it, but not really in a selfish way.

till, of course, sees that it's ivan who's messing with him, and turns away.

i've also talked about this but at this age it really does seem like till's mindset when it comes to ivan is something along the lines of, 'oh, it's just ivan. he's fucking weird, that's just how he is' and more or less shrugs it off. he's used to ivan's "quirks" it seems.

this, till looking at ivan only to immediately look away, won't do. he only caught his attention for a few seconds, so i assume ivan's next logical move is to do something that will get an even bigger reaction. (ivan is a logical thinker, after all, at least in my perception of him)

so he. ya know. does that. which really seems like a great way to get himself punched, right? which honestly is also probably his plan. have till explode in anger, forget whatever happened for him to be injured in the first place, and ivan gets his undivided attention for a period of time. a win-win.

and you might be saying "oh, but couldn't ivan have just been doing that selfishly? we know his main goal is to get till to look at him." to which i say, yeah fair. i don't think this was done completely selflessly (i don't think anything ivan does is fully selfless but that's perhaps for another day) at all, he could've gone at it a different unconventional way if it was. but i think he probably sees it as mutually beneficial.

yes, it does seem like a way to show ivan wanting to keep till's eyes and attention on him. an example of how he seeks out till's attention no matter what, but the preceding shot of a hopeless till reminds ivan of this particular interaction for a reason.

there had to have been a motive behind what he did and why he did it then, and what we have to go off of for that is the first three shots. till wearing the same misery on two different occasions and ivan noticing. with that information, it's really not a stretch that this could be ivan's fucked up version of comfort.

[boughkeeping]

HEADS OR TAILS?

Itoshi Sae x GN! reader

Angst/comfort

Pt 1

Heartbreak is one thing my ego's another, I beg you don't embarrass me motherfucker...

Sae and his little brother used to get along just fine.

You just existed somewhere out there, sure you three were pretty close being neighbours but you knew you couldn't compare to the bond and love the itoshi bros had for eachother.

You just existed somewhere out there and it was fine with you.

"Your bangs are ugly"

"They're not"

"Heads or tails your bangs are ugly or not"

"Heads"

"I'm tail then"

You flipped the coin to reveal tails

"Yeah your bangs are ugly"

From your window you could see Sae and Itoshi, seemed like Sae was struggling to pull Rin from budging.

You immediately ran down to them "What happened?" You asked as you pulled Rin's round cheek but he smacked your hand away, he was very pouty for some reason. "He dropped his popsicle and when I told him he can't eat it he's getting angry"

You chuckled and crouched to Rin's level "Aw hey you can get another next time right?" But he just huffed and turned around. You sighed and pulled Sae's arm. "Alright since it seems like you won't listen to your brother I'll steal him thanks"

He immediately stood up and separated your arm from his and started pulling him to continue their way.

Sae waved you a quiet bye and you watched them leave, again you just existed somewhere out there but you didn't mind.

Itoshi Senior left for Spain and you were left with Itoshi Junior who still didn't like you. Years passed and Itoshi's dislike towards you lessened, you two could even hold conversations without him giving you a nasty look. Perhaps he matured.

One day you were just about to head out to a nearby store to buy snacks then you met Rin returning, he looked pretty pissed but then again when is he not.

"Who burst your bubble Itoshi Junior?" You leaned on the fence. "Sae... He's.." he muttered and you raised an eyebrow "Sae what?" He started walking away "He's back" you bent a little over the fence and pulled his sleeve "HE'S WHAT?" he slapped your hand away "He's back, in the grounds right now... But he's different I suggest you don't meet him unless you want to ruin your mood" with that he slammed the door.

You wasted no time running to where Rin said Sae is.

You felt like your lungs were gonna explode with the way you ran, when you saw reddish hair "S....ae?" You breathed heavily and rested your hands on your knees trying to catch a breath.

He said nothing. You looked at him, he grew up indeed. Both the Itoshi brothers did. You saw him on tv once months ago but seeing him in the real just felt different. "And.. your bangs are still ugly" you laughed lightly, but no response again you slowly walked towards him "Hello? Earth to Itoshi Sae? Did Spain turn your ears deaf?"

He finally said something "Don't bother." Was all he said, you tried to catch his arm to make him stop but he just moved away "You both are still stuck in the past, no wonder you two will never move ahead" you retracted your hand, whatever he said after that or did he even say anything?

That day it wasn't just Rin who left pissed.

Time passed and Itoshi Junior left for some football organisation too, and he couldn't come home for the duration. You were alone now.

You sipped on cold tea sitting outside looking at the sky that hardly had any starts, you could see two if you squinted your eyes and another one was even smaller and even farther away from those two stars.

It almost reminded you of something.

You hissed sat down in the cold grass and pulled out your phone to search.

I|

It|

Ito|

Itos|

Itosh|

Itoshi|

Itoshi S|

Itoshi S|

Itoshi Sa|

You picked up your tea cup and deleted everything instead.

Itoshi S|

Itoshi|

Itosh|

Itos|

Ito|

It|

I|

|

You sighed "Let's not think of assholes that piss you off". You slurped. You didn't even have his number to keep in touch with him, you did see his socials but why would he follow you back. You bet he saw you only as a friend but after that day you wondered if he even considers you a friend anymore.

Of course everyone went forward Sae had gone to Spain, Rin is in that football faculty or whatever and you're still stuck here. Just existed somewhere. Both of them were prodigies excelling at Football and you were just, an ordinary teen who spares a normal amount of time for your hobbies.

You looked above again and for some reason the gap between the two stars and the one star in the distance felt even bigger.

Those two were in a whole different world and here you were, it felt awful. You wanted to switch schools your guardian recommended you study in Osaka where a relative knows you.

Maybe it was time to make changes.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when your phone beeped for a second and you saw you got an sms from an unknown number.

"[Name]"

Who could it be?