#it’s one of the better drafts i had lol

[olive-main]

Hi hi! Ive just stumbled across your writing and i adore it so much! You capture Azriel so perfectly!! I don't really have much of a specific request in mind (but trust me, I'll think of one and come back if that's okay??) But could I ask for something with our Az and a super strong, independent, sarcastic reader. I just love the idea of totally smitten Azriel and just all the fluff. I'm so sorry this is so vague but

Happy holidays!!

No Damsels Here

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: A fiesty Valkyrie with a sharp wit and the brooding Shadowsinger find their lives slowly intertwined through training, quiet moments, and unexpected gestures, leading them to realize there may be a growing connection they can no longer ignore.

Wc: 2.7k

A/N: Ok be honest, did you hack into my account and read my drafts bcs….I had just the fic for this request rotting for far too long. I hope you enjoy, it’s not my fav since I think my writing is better now hence why it’s been in my drafts lol and it’s like semi proofread—BUT thanks to this request y’all get more fluff. Everyone say thank you! :b

——

The morning air is cool and sharp, biting at your skin as you jog toward the training ring, late as usual. The sun hasn’t fully risen yet, its rays barely spilling over the horizon, but Nesta is already there stretching, as she is every morning. Ever the Valkyrie.

“You’re late,” she remarks as you step onto the mat beside her.

“Fashionably late,” you correct, tying your hair back. “Besides, I needed an extra five minutes of sleep. Someone decided to keep me up last night with her endless talking about smutty romance novels.”

Nesta doesn’t bother to hide her smirk. “Don’t act as if you’re not interested in my books.”

Before you can retort, Cassian’s booming voice cuts through the quiet. “Alright, enough about your romance book things. You’re here to train, not gossip.”

You glance over the training grounds, your eyes instinctively flicking toward the familiar figure standing on the far edge of the ring. Azriel is adjusting the strap of his leathers, his wings half-furled behind him as he surveys the weapons laid out with his usual quiet focus.

Nesta catches the direction of your gaze and nudges you with her elbow. “Still brooding, isn’t he?”

“He’s not brooding,” you reply, a little too defensively. “He’s… serious.”

Nesta gives you a knowing look but doesn’t press further as Cassian begins pairing everyone off for sparring.

“Y/N,” Cassian calls, grinning wickedly. “You’re with Azriel today.”

You blink, trying not to focus on how your heart jumped. Across the ring, Azriel’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you see the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.

—

Sparring with Azriel is both exhilarating and frustrating. He’s fast—almost impossibly so—and he moves with a precision that leaves no openings. You’re strong and quick on your feet, but against Azriel, every strike feels like a gamble.

“You’re hesitating,” he murmurs, dodging your swing with ease.

“I’m calculating,” you snap back, twisting to block his next move.

His lips twitch, the faintest ghost of a smile. “You’re thinking too much.”

“And you’re talking too much,” you retort, aiming a strike at his side.

He blocks it effortlessly, his wings shifting slightly as he steps into your space. For a moment, you’re close enough to catch the faint scent of cedar and something darker, something so distinctly him.

“Focus,” he says, his voice low and even, and you can’t help the way your pulse quickens.

But you don’t let him see that. Instead, you smirk and lunge to the left before sweeping his legs out from under him. He lands on his back with a soft thud, his wings flaring slightly to cushion the fall.

“Gotcha,” you say, planting your hands on your hips.

Azriel props himself up on one elbow, looking up at you with an expression that’s almost impressed. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” you echo, laughing. “That was a textbook takedown.”

From across the ring, Cassian claps his hands. “That’s my girl! Show him who’s boss, Y/N!”

You smile proudly at Cassian, bowing exaggeratedly before turning back to Azriel with a proud smirk.

“Again?” he asks, his tone calm but with a flicker of challenge in his eyes.

“Obviously,” you reply, and the sparring begins anew.

—

You’re sitting on the edge of the ring after the session, toweling the sweat from your face as the others disperse. Nesta sits beside you, nursing a bottle of water and watching Azriel, who’s speaking quietly with Cassian.

“You know he likes you, right?” Nesta says, breaking the silence.

You choke on your water. “What?”

Nesta gives you a look, one brow arched in that infuriatingly smug way of hers. “Don’t play dumb. He’s been watching you all morning.”

“He watches everyone,” you argue, though your voice lacks conviction.

“Not like this,” Nesta counters. “Trust me, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s different.”

You shake your head, refusing to entertain the idea. “He’s just… observant. It’s his job.”

Nesta doesn’t respond, but her silence is louder than words.

—

Over the next few weeks, you start to notice the little things. The way Azriel lingers near you during training, offering quiet pointers or stepping in to demonstrate a move. The way he always seems to know when you’re pushing yourself too hard, handing you a water bottle or calling for a break just as your muscles start to protest.

And then there are the gloves. The day before you’d worn down your leather gloves to their last seam, small tears at the knuckles.

You find them waiting for you one morning, neatly folded and left on the bench where you always sit. They’re sleek and well-crafted, the leather soft and pliable. With your name written on a piece of parchment laid neatly on them, in his writing.

“Nice gloves,” Nesta remarks as you slip them on.

“They’re… new,” you say, frowning slightly.

“Azriel left them,” she says, her tone far too casual.

You freeze, glancing at her. “How do you know that?”

Nesta smirks. “Because I saw him put them there.”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Azriel approaches, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Do they fit?” he asks, his gaze flicking to the gloves.

You nod, flexing your fingers. “Perfectly. Thank you.”

He inclines his head, his lips curving into the faintest smile before he turns and walks away.

“Hopeless,” Nesta mutters under her breath, but you don’t bother arguing this time.

—

It’s late one evening when Azriel finds you sitting on the balcony of the House of Wind, staring out at the twinkling lights of Velaris below.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, his voice soft as he steps into the night air.

You glance over your shoulder, surprised but not unwelcome. “Something like that.”

He leans against the railing beside you, his wings folding neatly behind him. For a while, neither of you speaks, the quiet stretching between you like a warm blanket.

Finally, Azriel breaks the silence. “Something is on your mind”

“Oh? Am I that easy to see through Shadowsinger?” you ask, turning to face him.

“No, not always” he says, his hazel eyes meeting yours. “But you only come out here when something is.”

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. But before you can, he continues, his voice low and steady.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says. “But if you ever want to, I’m here.”

The sincerity in his tone takes you off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him.

“Thanks,” you say finally, your voice softer than usual.

He nods, his gaze lingering on you for a heartbeat longer before he turns back to the view.

The silence stretches, comfortable but crackling with unspoken words. You lean your elbows on the railing, the cool metal pressing against your skin. Azriel doesn’t move, his presence steady beside you, a quiet sort of comfort.

“So,” you say at last, breaking the stillness. “Is brooding a full-time job for you, or do you just do it in your free time?”

His lips twitch, though he doesn’t take his eyes off the city below. “Depends. Are you asking because you want tips?”

A laugh escapes you, sharp and unrestrained. “Please, I could out-brood you any day of the week.”

Azriel turns his head slightly, enough that you can see the amusement flickering in his hazel eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, you will,” you quip, straightening up and crossing your arms. “But don’t come crying to me when I leave you in the shadows.”

“I don’t cry,” he replies smoothly, his expression as impassive as ever.

You snort, shaking your head. “No, of course not. The great spymaster of the Night Court doesn’t have emotions, right?”

His mouth curves into the faintest smile, and for a moment, you swear you see something softer beneath the usual calm exterior.

“Wrong,” he says quietly.

The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and for once, you’re at a loss for words. Before you can respond, Azriel shifts, his wings rustling softly as he straightens.

“I should let you get some sleep,” he says, his voice low and even.

“Sure,” you reply, recovering quickly. “I’ll need it for when I take you down in training tomorrow.”

His soft chuckle is the last thing you hear before he disappears into the shadows, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

—

The next morning, you’re determined to shake off the lingering feelings from last night. You throw yourself into training with a vengeance, sparring with Nesta and Cassian until your muscles burn and your breath comes in ragged gasps.

But no matter how hard you push yourself, you can’t ignore the fact that Azriel’s eyes are on you. He’s not overt about it, of course—he never is. But you’ve gotten good at reading him.

“Do you think he’s capable of blinking?” you mutter to Nesta during a break, jerking your chin in Azriel’s direction.

Nesta smirks, following your gaze. “Why? Is it distracting you?”

“Hardly,” you scoff. “I just don’t want him pulling something from all that intense staring.”

“Maybe he’s impressed,” Nesta says, her tone teasing.

You roll your eyes. “He’s impressed by my fighting skills, obviously. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Obviously,” Nesta echoes, her smirk growing.

“Don’t start,” you warn, grabbing your water bottle.

Nesta raises her hands in mock surrender, but you can see the gleam in her eye.

—

After training, you’re stretching near the edge of the ring when Azriel approaches. You glance up, noting the slight crease in his brow as he surveys the scrape on your arm.

“You should get that looked at,” he says, nodding toward the cut.

“It’s nothing,” you reply, brushing it off. “Barely a scratch.”

Azriel doesn’t look convinced. He crouches beside you, pulling a small vial of salve from his pocket.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, reaching for your arm.

You consider protesting, but the look in his eyes stops you. So instead, you sit there, watching as his fingers work with careful precision, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“You know, this is the second time you’ve fussed over me this week,” you say, breaking the silence. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to impress me.”

Azriel doesn’t look up, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “Is it working?”

The question takes you off guard, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. So instead, you settle for sarcasm.

“Not yet,” you say, grinning. “But keep trying. You might get there eventually.”

His quiet laugh sends warmth curling through your chest, and as he finishes wrapping your arm, you find yourself wishing the moment would last a little longer.

—

Later that evening, you’re in the kitchen with Nesta, raiding the cabinets for a late-night snack.

“So,” she says casually, popping a grape into her mouth. “What’s going on with you and Azriel?”

You freeze mid-reach, turning to glare at her. “What do you mean, ‘what’s going on?’”

Nesta shrugs, far too nonchalant. “I mean, he practically hovered over you all day. And don’t think I didn’t notice him patching you up earlier.”

“It was a cut,” you say defensively. “Hardly life-threatening.”

“Uh-huh.” Nesta leans against the counter, studying you with those sharp eyes of hers. “And the gloves? Or the way he’s always watching you during training?”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re imagining things.”

“I’m really not,” Nesta replies, a sly smile creeping onto her face.

“Well, even if he does… like me, that’s his problem,” you say, crossing your arms. “I’m not some damsel in distress, waiting for someone to sweep me off my feet.”

“No,” Nesta agrees, smirking. “But maybe you’re someone who could use a little… sweeping.”

You throw a grape at her, and she laughs, ducking out of the way.

—

The realization of Azriel’s attention lingers in your mind longer than you’d like to admit. You try to shake it off—try to convince yourself that it’s just his nature to watch everyone, to care quietly. But there’s a warmth to his gaze when it falls on you, a softness that feels different, deliberate.

And once you notice it, you can’t stop seeing it.

Like during training the next day, when Cassian barks at everyone to do laps. You’re running alongside Nesta, your legs burning and breath hitching, when Azriel quietly falls into step beside you.

“Don’t overthink your breathing,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

You glance at him, eyebrows raised. “I’m not overthinking it.”

His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly. “You were counting your breaths.”

You narrow your eyes, your tone laced with mock offense. “You’re watching me breathe now? That’s not creepy at all.”

Azriel doesn’t rise to the bait, but the faintest smirk graces his lips. “Just trying to help.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, rolling your eyes. But when you refocus on your breathing, following his advice, the run feels a little easier.

—

A few days later, you find yourself in the House of Wind’s library, searching for a book Nesta recommended, the one she had mentioned to you a few days ago. You’re muttering under your breath, cursing the ridiculously high shelves, when a familiar voice speaks behind you.

“Need help?”

You whirl around to find Azriel standing there, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Not unless you’ve got a ladder hidden somewhere,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Azriel steps closer, his wings shifting as he glances up at the shelf. “Which one?”

You point to the book near the top, and without a word, Azriel extends a wing, brushing it against the shelf as he pulls the book down with practiced ease.

He hands it to you, his fingers brushing yours briefly. “There.”

You take the book, trying not to let the warmth of his touch distract you. “Thanks. I guess having wings is good for more than just flying, huh?”

His smile widens slightly. “They’re versatile.”

“Show-off,” you mutter, but there’s no bite to your tone.

Azriel doesn’t respond, just tilts his head as if studying you. The silence stretches, heavy but not uncomfortable, and you find yourself wondering what’s going on behind those hazel eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask finally, your voice sharper than you intend.

Azriel blinks, as though pulled from his thoughts. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure something out,” you say, narrowing your eyes.

He hesitates, his gaze steady but unreadable. “Maybe I am.”

Before you can press him further, he nods toward the book in your hands. “Enjoy your reading.” And then he’s gone, slipping back into the shadows as easily as he came.

—

The tension between you grows, subtle but undeniable. It’s not something you can ignore anymore—not when his gaze lingers just a second too long, or when his words carry a weight you can’t quite name.

One evening, after another long day of training, you find yourself wandering the halls of the House of Wind. You end up on the same balcony where Azriel joined you that night, the city lights below twinkling like stars.

You’re not surprised when he appears again, his presence so quiet you almost don’t notice until he’s standing beside you.

“Do you ever sleep?” you ask, glancing at him.

“Rarely,” he admits, his voice soft.

“Figures,” you mutter, leaning against the railing.

The silence stretches, but this time, it feels charged, as though both of you are waiting for the other to speak.

Finally, Azriel breaks the quiet. “You confuse me.”

You blink, turning to face him. “What?”

“You’re strong, stubborn, sarcastic…” He trails off, his lips curving slightly. “But you care. Even when you try not to show it.”

You stare at him, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he says, his gaze meeting yours, “that you make it very difficult to stay in the shadows.”

His words hang in the air, and for once, you don’t have a witty comeback. You’re too busy trying to process the way your heart is racing, the way his eyes seem to see straight through you.

“Well,” you say finally, your voice quieter than usual. “Maybe it’s time you stepped out of them.”

Azriel’s smile is small, but it’s real. And in that moment, with the stars above and the city below, you feel something shift between both of you—something neither of you are sure you can ignore anymore. Not when he feels that golden thread that glows in his chest, connecting his soul to yours.

——

Are y’all interested in a tag list?? I’m gonna be more consistent in posting hehe.

Thank you for reading my lovely humans. Requests are still very open ;)

[measuredingold]

i’d walk through hell for you

authors note: saw that best friend!noah is all the talk right now and decided to finally free this from the drafts. inspired by a walk through hell by say anything :) there will be a second part that’s already finished and will be posted next week ! i’m not sure about a third lol as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.1k

cross posted on ao3

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, heavy anxiety, best friend!noah, Noah Is A Nightmare But He Can’t Help It, reader is a sweetie and loves their friend and wants to make it better, oh eventual friends to lovers btw, 18+ minors do not interact

You haven't seen him like this in a long time. You can't even remember the last time he allowed you to see him like this, on edge, snippy with fucking everyone, and down right a fucking nightmare. You thought he had gotten that under control, at least from what he’s told you, but the scene before you lets you know that may not be the case.

For the most part. He could be worse, you think.

You've seen him far worse than this plenty of times, yet it still makes your stomach turn in an unpleasant way, and there's a foul taste settling in the back of your throat as you step into his room.

“Hey.” You say quietly, making your presence known.

“Hi.” He doesn’t even bother looking up at you. Your chest tightens.

“Jolly says you’re being a nightmare,” Noah snorts at your words, but you know he doesn’t find it that amusing. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”

Your heart breaks as your best friend finally looks up at you, the bags under his eyes and the permanent frown on his lips feeling like a literal stab to the gut. You drop your bag by the door and slowly make your way towards him.

"I can't fucking..." He sucks in a deep breath as he throws his arms towards his computer setup in the corner in his room, eyes narrowing. "This one part in the song I showed you last week. It doesn't sound right. I've messed with it for days, even sent it off to Jolly and even he can't fucking get it to sound good and, " He rubs a hand down his face, "I have to send it by tomorrow night with like four other songs. The others are fine but this fucking one..."

"Sebbe. Breathe."

He does, one long shaky breath, and you're finally looking closely enough to realize his entire body is shaking. Your anxiety kicks in then, alarms sounding off in your head because you know where this can lead. You've seen it before. Your legs take you over to his bed that he's sitting on, joining him. You make sure to keep some space between the two of you, not wanting to overwhelm him more than needed.

"I just don't know what's fucking wrong with me. Like, why can't I figure this out? I did the thing, I took the break. Came back with a clear head or whatever but all I did was fuck up the song even more to where Jolly can't even fix it and-"

"Noah."

He stills at your voice, lazily dragging his eyes towards you. He looks so tired. You know him well enough to know the break was a good fifteen minutes before he sat his ass back in that chair and clearly worked himself to the ground. You know that he's probably only slept a handful of hours in the last few days, and you fucking hate that. He struggles with sleep as is, so you know the stress of this deadline isn't good for him at all.

"Listen to me, okay?" You say slowly. Noah just blinks at you. "Send it off the way it is. You've done your best, but if you keep messing around with it with this nasty attitude, it's not going to get any better. Make sure to make a note on why the song might sound unfinished, mention that you've been struggling."

"But-"

"I'm not finished." His mouth snaps shut. "Tell Jolly you sent it off and that you guys will work on it later. These are just supposed to be demos, right?" It takes a second but Noah eventually nods, somehow looking even more tired than he did seconds ago. "Then there’s no reason for it to be perfect, anyways. Just go on to something else and then go back to it when you don't feel so... negative."

The silence after your words makes your stomach turn, Noah slowly blinking at you. You know your words are registering in his mind, but they’re melting away. He's going to only hear one part of your speech, and it's the part about sending an unfinished song to his label. The unfinished and not perfect song which is unacceptable in Noah standards, and you can already make out the frown that's beginning to form on his lips.

"I have to finish it."

"No, you actually don't."

"Yes, I actually fucking do." He bites out.

You know he doesn't mean it, to be snippy with you, but that's what happens when he's like this. Irrational, says things before thinking about them. You can't stop the way you flinch, though, grimacing at the way it hurts when he throws his anger at you. His frown only deepens, sadness etching itself over his face.

"Sorry." He mumbles, head tilting down. "I just... I need to finish it. I can't just send it off the way that it is. That's not good enough."

"Demos aren't supposed to be good. That's why they're called demos. It’s the rough draft.”

"You don't get it." He groans out, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands. "I just... I can't do that. You know I fucking can't. It's gotta be perfect, because if not-"

"You feel like a failure." You finish his words for him and watch the second his shoulders drop.

He doesn't respond, doesn't even take his hands off his face. Instead he just nods slowly.

"Noah..."

He remains silent next to you but you can hear the way his breathing has picked up, a lot shakier than it had been seconds ago. The hands that were sprawled across his face were shaking again and this time you don't bother keeping your space, scooting closer to him.

You're deliberate with your actions, hand reaching out to slide off the beanie on top of his head. You let it fall, hand now smoothing down some of his hair that was messed up by the hat. You're quiet when your fingers gently card through his hair and you do it a few times before your nails scratch at his scalp, slow and gentle.

It takes a second, a lot longer than you actually expected, but his breathing begins to even out. His hands are still shaky, though, and he still has yet to even pick his head up. You have a feeling of what's running through his mind, and you so desperately want to crawl inside there and throw it out yourself. Fill his head with better thoughts and rid him of the mean ones he's sifting through currently.

Your hand drops from the top of his head, instinctively pushing a fallen strand behind his ear before sliding your hand down to the back of his neck. Your fingers apply a good amount of pressure there, gently rubbing out the tension. You hear him sigh out, the noise muffled by his hand.

“Talk to me. What’s going on up there, bub?”

"This is all I have." He finally says after long minutes of silence, voice sounding strained.

You frown.

He continues, "The band. Music. It's all I have. All I'm good at. I can't... it has to be perfect, you know? If it's not..." He sucks in a shaky breath and your fingers dig back into his neck. "If it's not perfect, I don't know how much longer I'll have this. One fuck up and... and this all can be..."

He doesn't finish his words, but you know what he was going to say.

This all can be taken away from me.

Noah confided that fear to you so many times, but each time you're reminded of it it's like a part of you dies. His fear of losing everything at the snap of a finger is something that haunts him and has stayed with him for as long as you could remember. No matter how hard he tried to run from it, to know that things don't always end and can't be taken from him so easily, it always seemed to come crawling back.

"It's not going to be taken away from you." You say in a small voice, scooting even closer to him. Your legs are pressed together now and you don't stop rubbing at his neck, hoping to relieve some of the stress.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." Your fingers stop but your hand doesn't move. "Noah, look at me."

A beat passes before he's finally removing his hands from his face, slowly turning his head to stare at you. Somehow the bags under his eyes have darkened in the few minutes you've been in here with him, and it seems like that frown on his lips is permanently sketched there.

"You've gotten this far without it being taken from you." You start slowly, thumb now brushing against the side of his neck. "You're good at what you do. Everyone knows that, and everyone knows that you're not perfect. You don't need to be perfect. We all have bad days. One song that isn't sounding like you wanted isn't going to be the be all end all of your career."

"But what if it is?" He sounds so small, voice shaking with fear of the hypothetical what if and all you want to do in this moment is gather him up in your arms and never fucking let go.

"It isn't." You press. "This has happened before and guess what happened? Nothing. Nothing was taken from you, and life went on as it did."

Noah just blinks at you. You stare back at him, pressing your lips together as you mull over your next words. You're not sure if what you're telling him is getting through that head of his and you're not sure what to do next. You think he needs to take a break, a much longer one, and needs to get out of his room. Probably the house, too. Away from the problem to clear his head.

"Hey," Your thumb keeps brushing against his neck and something warm spreads across your chest when you feel him melt into the touch. "How about you come over? For the day. We go back to mine and just watch some Naruto. I haven't finished it yet."

His blank expression is soon replaced with something similar to pain and his eyes dart from your face to the corner of his room, where his set up remains. You reach up with your other hand without much thought, cupping the side of his face to turn him back towards you.

"Noah."

"I..."

His eyes dart back and forth between your face and his computer, and you can almost physically see the battle happening in his head. The need for perfection. The need for control. His hands start to shake in his lap again and your thumb brushes against the top of his cheek, trying to pull him back to you.

"Just for a few hours. A couple episodes, that's all. Just to get you out of that head of yours, then we can come back here and you can finish up that song."

A compromise, but it's enough to have that pained look on his face to fall for just a moment, body relaxing under your fingertips.

"Okay." Noah breathes out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. " A few hours."

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, that warmth from minutes ago settling across your chest again.

"Thank you."

He doesn't reply, just blinks at you again and gives you a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. You're not sure you got through to him, but maybe he was exhausted enough to not care anymore. Whichever one it was you'll take it, as long as it gets him away from that computer and hopefully out of his mind.

He's quiet when gathering his things, lingering by his desk when he saves whatever song it was giving him a hard time before shutting the computer down all together. He doesn't say anything when you leave either, silently following you through the house and to your car. It worries you every time he goes quiet like this, but you know it's the exhaustion from his anxiety finally catching up. And probably the minimal hours of sleep he's gotten in the last few days. Still, you hate it.

The only sign of life from him was when he bopped his head to a random song in a playlist you two created together, adding random things in there from time to time. You can't remember the name, it's one of his songs you think, which is confirmed by him humming quietly in the passenger seat next to you, scrolling through his phone.

Noah still hasn't said a word by the time you reach your apartment, and doesn't bother saying anything when he gets out of your car, shuffling behind you. You try to hide your worry as you unlock your door, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Make yourself at home."

He makes a noise in response, a quiet hum, toeing off his shoes before making a beeline for your couch, sinking immediately into the cushions. You smile at that, watching as he gets comfortable in your space. It wasn't always like this, when the two of you first became friends, but after years of growing closer, your space was almost like his. It was nice to know he trusted you that much.

"Have you eaten?" You call out to him, making your way around your kitchen. He doesn't look up from his phone.

"No."

You glare at him, but he still isn't looking. "Noah."

"Wasn't hungry." He brushes it off before pausing and finally looks up from his phone, exhaustion evident in his features as he stares at you. "I'm kind of hungry now, though."

"Yeah?" That relaxes you a bit. "I got some leftover pizza in the fridge if you want some."

"Sure."

You try to ignore the way he still sounds so... small. Barely there, like he's off in some other world. You busy yourself with fixing a plate for both you and him and make sure to pour him some water in the biggest glass that you own, knowing damn well he hasn't had a sip in hours. You bring the plates in first, setting them on the coffee table in front of your couch before going back to retrieve your drinks. You hand his cup to him, narrowing your gaze.

"Drink."

You don't miss the way he rolls his eyes but takes the glass from you without a fight, taking a slow sip. You feel like you can breathe easier now knowing that he's drunk something, and is going to eat something soon too, and you finally settle onto the couch next to him, pulling your legs up under you.

The two of you sit in silence as you mess around with your remote, trying to figure out which streaming service had Naruto on it. It had been a while since you watched it, and you knew you had to finish it. Noah's been bugging you for months, maybe even years, so now's a good time as any to start it back up.

"I can't believe you still haven't finished." You’re surprised he’s said a full sentence, words muffled around the pizza in his mouth.

"I'm trying." You whine out before taking a bite of your pizza. "There's just so many episodes."

He snorts. "You haven't even gotten to Shippuden yet."

"...You're telling me there's more?"

You look at him, head tilted and eyes wide. Noah takes in your expression and laughs, the real breathy one he does when he thinks something's ridiculous. That warm feeling in your chest returns and suddenly you feel something similar to pride fill you, being the reason behind that laughter. His lips twitch into what you think is supposed to be a smile, shaking his head.

"Dude."

"You didn't tell me there was more!"

"Yes I did! I literally told you that this was part one, and then Shippuden was part two."

"I literally don't remember that at all." You grumble out, rolling your eyes.

"You could've already been on Shippuden if you'd just watch it."

"I forgot, okay?" You cry out, which only makes Noah laugh harder. "Fucking sue me."

"We're finishing this." He says matter of factly, relaxing back against the couch. "The goal is to finish both this and Shippuden by the end of the year." You give him a crazy look, brows furrowing, and he laughs again. "Okay. How about we at least start Shippuden by the end of the year?"

You think about it for a moment before nodding your head, taking another bite of your pizza. "I think I can manage that."

He smiles for real this time, small but it's real, and you smile back.

"Deal."

One episode turns into two, two turns into three, and somehow three turns into you almost finishing the season you'd been on for the last few months. You've finished your pizza by this time and Noah's been resting his head on your shoulder for the last three episodes now. The light from outside is dimming, and you know you should probably take him back home. You've kept him here much longer than he agreed to, but he hadn't said anything, just kept saying to play the next episode. He was finally relaxed and seemed to have finally forgotten about the song, at least for the moment.

And selfishly, maybe a part of you wanted to keep him here, pressed into your side for just a little longer.

The episode finally comes to an end and you go to ask if he wants to watch another episode, but a soft snore interrupts your sentence. You blink down at Noah asleep on your shoulder, face pressed against you and mouth open. You probably should be a little disgusted at the way he is most definitely drooling on you but instead you feel... endeared. He feels safe enough to sleep around you, and that feeling in your chest returns.

You reach for your phone next to you, typing out a text to Jolly that Noah had fallen asleep and you'll bring him back whenever he wakes up.

Thank fuck. He's been on nightmare mode for the last three days. He needs this.

A moment later another message from him comes through.

Thanks, btw. I don't know what he'd do without you, and quite frankly, me either. ❤️

That feeling in your chest blossoms into something you can't quite explain, a smile stretching across your lips. You send back your response before tossing your phone onto the couch and you rest your head against his, pressing your body closer to your best friends.

You're not sure what you'd do without him either.

[uceyliyahh]

PRETTY LITTLE FEARS

Summary: "Don't just sugar coat, or say it all if you want" After dealing with a harsh breakup with her ex-boyfriend during their trip together, Soraya decided to own her hair salon business with the help of her father of course until one night that all changed.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 5014

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Soraya

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @luvrsluxe @4milly

P.L.F. - 1

OMNISCIENT Soraya recently had a fiery confrontation with her boyfriend, Xavier, who is now her ex. The argument erupted over his questionable texting habits with other women. Despite his attempts to deny any wrongdoing and insist that his heart belonged solely to her, the tension between them was undeniable.

She was adamant that he had spoiled their trip and insisted on going home, but he dismissed her concerns, claiming she was overreacting and that they simply needed some time apart to calm down.

"C'mon Raya don't be like this," Xavier begged.

"Nigga you're literally speaking to other women that aren't me my reaction is perfectly normal," She said while folding her arms around her chest.

"You're just being dramatic right now, let's just cool off for a second,"

She was taken aback, unable to comprehend how he could dismiss her feelings so casually. Soraya let out a scoff, overwhelmed by disbelief at his nonchalant attitude toward the situation.

"I've had enough; I can't keep going through this with you. You always brush aside my feelings whenever you find yourself in a tough spot." With that, Soraya started to gather her belongings, while Xavier stood by, watching her in silence..

She frequently resorts to this behavior whenever they find themselves in a heated argument over his actions or her choices that he disapproves of.

She would usually return, and they would have passionate makeup sex, rekindling their connection. However, this time is different; she isn't coming back. She's mentally exhausted and drained from everything that's happened.

"Where are you going to go Raya?" He questioned her.

Soraya declared firmly, "This is no longer your business, Xavier. I'm finished with all of this, and I'm finished with you." With that, she swiftly collected her luggage, ensuring she had everything essential before stepping out the door.

Xavier seized her arm just as she was about to step outside, locking eyes with her in a menacing glare that felt like a stark warning.

"You know you'll be right back here,"

"Watch me not be there you'll be looking stupid," She said as she yanked her arm away from his grasps.

She picked up her phone to book an available flight and, to her delight, discovered that the next one wouldn't board until 11. With plenty of time to spare at just 9:30 AM, she decided to send a quick message to her best friend.

IMESSAGE 💬 Rara💗: Bestie Jadebae🌪️: What's up girl? I thought you and your man was enjoying yall trip together? Rara💗: we were until I found out that he was texting other women behind my back Jadebae🌪️: bitch what? Rara💗: yeah, and when I told him I found out about it we got into an heated argument over it so now I'm booking a flight to come back home Jadebae🌪️: omg girl I am so sorry that happened to you does your father know? Rara💗: no he doesn't know that I'm coming back home early today but I should be there around the evening time I need to be out Jadebae 🌪️: Ouuuu girl I know a club that we can go to tonight when you come back Rara💗: count me in because I'm tired of this I just wish I had a real man that could treat me right you know did I do something wrong? Jadebae 🌪️: Soraya no you didn't do nun wrong he just can't handle you that's all Rara💗: yeah you're right but I should be home soon see you then bestie Jadebae🌪️: kk bestie

Upon informing her best friend about receiving a text from Xavier, she couldn't help but let out a sigh as she read through the messages he was sending her.

Baby😩 sent three messages.

IMESSAGE 💬 Baby😩: you know you'll come back home soon Baby😩: who else is going to dick you down like I do huh? No nigga can't handle you Baby😩: see you when I get home little mama

Soraya rolled her eyes, fully aware that Xavier was overly convinced in his own delusions, believing she would return for a casual encounter after everything that had happened.

When she doesn't return at all, he'll soon understand how foolish he looks for treating her like a fool.

She also had clients who required her hair services, ensuring she would earn her fair share without needing his assistance at all.

* ˚ ✦ Soraya arrived home at last, steering her car into the driveway and shutting off the engine. With determination, she opened the trunk, retrieved her bags, and made her way to the front door.

As she approached her door, she retrieved the key from her keychain and unlocked it, stepping inside to be greeted by the delightful aroma of her home.

She felt a wave of relief wash over her as she stepped into her home, grateful to be free from his presence. She could no longer tolerate his behavior. Setting her luggage down beside the couch, she kicked off her shoes and neatly arranged them on the shoe rack nearby.

She reached out to her father to let him know she had arrived home safely, secretly wishing he wouldn't pry into the details of her trip with Xavier.

She headed upstairs to the bathroom for a refreshing shower, preparing herself for a fun night out with her friends.

She chose a stunning two-piece black ensemble that accentuated her figure beautifully, complemented by elegant jewelry.

Her phone was constantly buzzing with messages from Xavier, who was making violent threats against anyone who dared to come between them. It was clear that he felt he had lost control over her, yet he was still trying to intimidate her with his empty threats.

She decided to mute his messages, not wanting to expose herself to any more of his erratic thoughts, especially considering how his entire family seemed just as unhinged.

After taking her shower, Soraya came out the shower grabbing her phone checking the time she had a few minutes to get ready so that's what she did.

She carefully adjusted her hair and makeup, ensuring she looked her best for the evening. Now that she was officially single, she felt liberated to embrace her freedom and do whatever she desired.

As she snatched her keys and stepped out the door, Soraya slid into the car, immersing herself in the rhythm of the music. With K. Michelle's "Can't Raise A Man" playing, she belted out the lyrics with passion, completely lost in the moment.

At this moment, Soraya felt an intense loathing for Xavier, who had caused her so much distress.

As she arrived at her destination, she quickly texted Jade to let her know she had made it. Stepping out of the car, she was struck by how crowded it was that night. Entering the club, she was greeted by a lively scene filled with people enjoying drinks and dancing energetically on the floor.

She skillfully navigated through the bustling dance floor as she spotted Jade and her other best friend enthusiastically waving their hands to welcome her.

"Raya! Hey girl you made it!" Jade Exclaimed as she got up from her seat as she hugged her.

"Girl, you know I wasn't going to say no to do I am single now so I can do whatever I want," She said.

"Period as you should fuck that nigga," Soraya sat down with her girls and began taking shot a Hennessy along with a chaser.

She was eager to have a good time, but she knew she had to keep it in check because she would be driving home afterward, or at least that's what she believed.

Soraya had taken a few more drinks and was starting to feel the effects, but the urgent need to use the restroom was becoming impossible to ignore. She quickly informed Jade and her other best friend that she was making her way to the bathroom. As she navigated through the crowd, it seemed to part for her, allowing her to move with ease.

She was so lost in thought that she collided with someone, nearly losing her balance. Fortunately, they were quick to catch her. As she looked up, she found herself studying the intriguing features of the person who had saved her from a fall.

Her mind raced with the thought, 'he's incredibly attractive,' as they locked eyes, his gaze drifting from her lips back to her eyes, creating an undeniable connection between them.

"I am so sorry I didn't mean to bump into like this," Soraya apologized as the fine specimen smiled at her making her stand upright.

"It's all good little mama," She was taken by surprise when his gravelly, deep voice reached her ears, prompting a smile as she made her way to the restroom.

She felt the weight of everyone's gaze as she approached the restroom, realizing that the individual she had just collided with was accompanied by a group.

She resolved that she would refrain from having any more drinks, determined not to risk crashing her car. After returning from the restroom, Soraya couldn't shake the feeling of being watched; the same group of people continued to stare at her, sending a chill down her spine as she made her way back to her table.

She noticed that her closest friends were completely intoxicated, behaving wildly like untamed creatures.

"Sorayaaaaaaaaaa bitch we are drunk as fuck right now girl," Jade said in a drowsy tone.

She chuckled at them, "I can see that girl y'all two need to take a break child," Soraya said as she pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her social media.

She observed her closest friends hit the dance floor as "Attention" by 451 filled the air. Glancing at the clock, she realized that an early morning work shift awaited her. With a sigh, she picked up her purse and keys, preparing to leave the vibrant scene behind.

As she stepped out the door, she planned to tell her friends in the morning. While making her way to her car, she noticed someone parked right behind it.

As she was about to enter her car, an assailant swiftly covered her mouth with a cloth, leaving her to grapple with the overwhelming urge to resist the attack.

Her breath quickened with anxiety as she fought against her captor, but soon everything faded to darkness. They pulled the cloth from her mouth while lifting her into their vehicle.

Fading away into the horizon.

* ˚ ✦ SORAYA As I opened my eyes, a thick fog clouded my thoughts, making it difficult to grasp my surroundings. A wave of panic washed over me as I struggled to understand where I was. Glancing around the room, clarity began to emerge—I was in the bedroom.

As the lights faded to a soft glow, I slowly regained my senses and rose to my feet. I approached the door, desperate to escape, but found it firmly locked from the other side. I pounded on it with all my might, yet my efforts were in vain.

As I settled onto the bed, a wave of confusion washed over me. Suddenly, the realization struck me—I had been kidnapped. The identity of my captor was a mystery, but one thing was clear: I had to escape this place immediately.

I searched frantically for my purse, which contained my phone, but it was completely missing from view. This situation was driving me crazy as I felt my frustration escalating in this room.

I could hear the sound of the door unlocking, and I caught a glimpse of a shadowy footstep approaching. Doubt crept in, making me hesitate to open the door. However, I knew I had to escape this place, so I steeled my resolve and decided to take action.

Upon opening the door, I was greeted by a short figure who looked at me with a warm smile.

"Hello Ms Williams, Roman Reigns would like to see you," He said.

'Who was this Roman, and what could he possibly want from me?' Those thoughts raced through my mind as I tried to avoid any trouble. Reluctantly, I decided to comply and trailed behind him to Roman's office.

The air was thick with silence, a palpable tension hanging between us as I felt a wave of fear wash over me, uncertain of what lay ahead. My gaze wandered around the house, and I couldn't help but notice its grandeur. This mansion stood out, adorned with intricate decor and an abundance of furniture that spoke of a rich history.

Upon arriving at his office, the door swung open to reveal none other than the individual known as Roman Reigns, accompanied by the same man I had encountered at the club.

"Ms. Williams, please take a seat, dear," Roman urged, and I complied with his request.

I felt a deep sense of fear, completely bewildered by the situation I found myself in and uncertain about what was expected of me.

"You might be curious about my presence or my current location, but let me reassure you—you're completely safe, darling." His deep voice was so mesmerizing that it felt as if I were under a spell, completely entranced by his words.

"What is it that you seek from me? I-I can't even tell who you are," I replied, my voice trembling.

"You will hon, once you get to hear my reasoning why I have you captured,"

I rose to my feet, eager to escape, as I felt pressed for time and longed to be home. Yet, his voice sent a chill down my spine. "Sit the hell down!" The command was so forceful that I found myself sitting back down, locking eyes with him in a moment of tense silence.

"Listen, my dear, I've been observing you and your father for quite some time. I run a wrestling business, just like your father, if I'm not mistaken?" he remarked.

I nodded along, not wanting to provoke him further as he continued, "I'm eager to form a partnership with your father, but he dismissed me, calling me a 'tacky' imitation trying to siphon off his wealth. It's amusing, but that's beside the point; what truly matters is that I want to take ownership." His words left me confused; I didn't have a deep understanding of my father's business dealings, but I knew enough to sense the tension.

I crossed my arms and arched an eyebrow at him, asking, "How is this relevant to me?" I could hear him chuckling in response.

"My dear, this is where you play a crucial role. I would love for you to become a part of our venture." I felt a rush of surprise at his proposition; the world of gambling and drug dealing was never my scene, and it certainly wasn't something I wanted to be involved in.

I hesitated, looking Mr. Roman in the eye. "I'm not sure I can go through with that. My father always warned me to steer clear of situations like this, insisting that they can be perilous for someone like me."

"Is there any other option?"

He gave a slight nod and said, "You can remain here without causing any trouble. But make no mistake—if you attempt to flee, we will not think twice about ending your life right here. Do you understand?" Roman warned.

I nodded my head but I did have one more question though.

"Can I expect to retrieve my phone and laptop? What if my best friend is anxious about my situation and my—" Roman slid an envelope across the table to my companion, urging him to take a look inside.

As I opened it, my heart raced, and my eyes widened at the sight of pictures and messages exchanged between Xavier and numerous women. He had always assured me not to worry about them, making me doubt my own sanity. But now, it was clear—I wasn't losing my mind after all.

I tossed the envelope onto the table, my body shaking with disbelief. Make no mistake, my love for Xavier was genuine, but witnessing this—there was no way it could be real.

"T-this can't be real you had to photoshop this right?" I asked.

"Oh, sweetheart, this is the truth. Every time he toyed with your emotions and then offered you some dick, it only deepened your delusions," Roman remarked. I tried to rise in protest, but a wave of dizziness washed over me, forcing me to sink back into the chair.

At that moment, he snapped his fingers, and a short man named Paul approached him.

"Yes, my tribal chief,"

"Take her to her room she needs to rest and also bring her some fresh clothes for in the morning for her okay?" Paul nodded his head as he walked towards my way holding out his hand.

As I gazed up at him, my fingers lightly clasped around his hand, he guided me out of the office. Just before we stepped through the door, I caught Roman's voice behind us, saying, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Williams." As we exited, I couldn't help but scan the surroundings, searching for an exit strategy. The thought of danger loomed over me, but I knew I had to navigate this delicate situation carefully, playing along for now to ensure my safety.

Paul escorted me back to my room, gently opening the door for me. As I stepped inside, I heard the unmistakable sound of him locking it behind me. I collapsed onto the bed, wishing fervently that this was merely a dream and not my reality.

I shut my eyes and let myself gently slip into slumber.

* ˚ ✦ At nine in the morning, the sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow around the room. Cocooned in my blankets, I was momentarily puzzled about who had taken the time to care for me. As I blinked awake, I noticed neatly folded clothes on the dresser, a thoughtful gesture that added to my sense of wonder.

I thought it was Paul who had done it while I was still asleep, but I can't say for sure. As I sat up and stretched, my back arched slightly. I made my way to the dresser, picked up some clothes, and headed into the bathroom.

Upon entering the bathroom, I was struck by its stunning aesthetic. The ceiling-mounted shower head and the adjacent tub create a harmonious design, while the LED lights enhance the overall ambiance, showcasing the bathroom's beauty in the best possible way.

I removed my clothes and set them on the sink counter before stepping into the shower. As the warm water cascaded over me, a wave of relief washed over my body, prompting a deep sigh of satisfaction.

I reflected on Roman's conversation from yesterday regarding my potential involvement in the business, but I still felt uncertain. It appeared too risky, and I was unclear about what I would be stepping into.

I recognized the sound of my name being called, and it seemed to be Paul's voice. "Ms. Williams? Breakfast is ready, just wanted to give you a heads up," he announced before I heard the door click shut behind him.

I found myself unable to shake the thought of that striking individual I encountered, and seeing him here again raised questions. Was he somehow connected to Roman? He looked incredibly sharp in all black yesterday, yet I had to remain cautious, uncertain of their intentions.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I enveloped myself in a towel, securing it around my body and hair. As I settled onto the bed, I allowed my thoughts to wash over me, lost in a sea of contemplation while my skin dried.

'What am I going to do?'

'What am I going to tell my father who's probably worried about my safety,'

'I know Jade is probably worried sick right now,'

'How long was I going to be here,'

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, a knock on the door broke the silence. I called out for the person to enter, and when I looked up, I was surprised to see the same man from yesterday cautiously peering in.

"I was just checking to see if you were awake," he said as he entered, sending a wave of fear through me as I wondered what he had in store.

He spotted my trembling form and, with a chuckle, placed his hands on his hips. "Relax, little mama, I'm not here to hurt you," he said. That familiar voice echoed in my mind—the very same one I had heard at the club with Jade and Kelly. It was him.

"Y-you're the person I bumped into yesterday right?" I asked him as he sat down next to me.

"Yeah, you were really tipsy that night huh," I rolled my eyes at him he must think he got jokes right.

I removed the towel from my hair and kept drying it, as there was no blow dryer or any other option available in this room.

His gaze was unmistakably fixed on me, and the weight of it made me glance his way for just a moment. In that fleeting instant, I couldn't help but admire his striking features; he was undeniably stunning.

"Are you related to Roman or something?"

"Absolutely, that's my cousin who runs this wrestling business, and I'm his right-hand man, alongside my twin brother."

'Twin brother? I didn't see his twin brother when I was in Roman's office yesterday,'

"Right hand man? What you do?" I asked him standing up unwrapping the towel away from my body.

He started to say something, but his attention was quickly drawn to my curves, his gaze lingering on my body, particularly my backside. However, he managed to refocus and began to speak.

Jey shared, "I assist my cousin in running a gambling operation and dealing drugs to those who place bets on a specific wrestler. If they lose, we keep all the cash and drugs; if they win, we provide them with what we promised. It can get chaotic at times, but that's not the norm." I nodded in agreement as I finished putting on my last piece of clothing.

"Sounds similar to what my father does, but why did Roman want me involved in this?" He chuckled at me while he smiled.

"You asking a lot of questions princess," His words took me by surprise, and I found myself blushing as I turned my head at the affectionate nickname.

He became aware of it as he stood up, hearing his footsteps approaching. When his hand brushed against my waist, I was taken aback by the unexpected sensation.

I gazed intently into his warm, brown eyes, feeling as though he was peering into the depths of my innocent soul.

"What?—what'chu blushing for?"

"N-nothing you should leave before you get in trouble with Roman," I said as I managed to move away from him not wanting to get caught up.

"Mama he ain't going to do anything if he don't find out but I'll see you around," He said as he left the room causing me sigh feeling my heart beating like crazy.

'Why does he have this type of affection on me when we don't even know each other?'

Following breakfast, I took a leisurely stroll around the area, treating myself to a personal tour. With my stay here extending indefinitely, I explored various rooms and admired the beautiful gardens both indoors and outdoors.

I noticed something unusual while I was engaged in my task. Roman was on the phone, visibly upset, and I couldn't help but be intrigued. Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned in closer, peering around the wall to catch snippets of his heated conversation.

"She will be staying here for a while,"

"Nothing will happen to her, do you know how long it would take for her father apply to my approval?"

"Well damn it get a move on! I want his business! That way we could thrive and have more power!"

While I was quietly listening in on his conversation, a sudden throat clearing from behind startled me, and I turned to see who it was.

"I take that you're very nosy as well? Budding into people's conversations?" Jonathan said.

"Jesus you fucking scared me—wait aren't you Jey's twin brother?" I asked as he folded his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, you must be Soraya? Or should I call you Ms Williams?" He said I rolled my eyes at him.

"Just call me Soraya I hate how formal yall are with me like I'm so old lady," I heard him chuckling at my joke as I walked past him going back inside the house.

He trailed behind me as if I were a stray puppy, asking, "Don't you all have responsibilities to attend to?" Jonathan simply shook his head while I carried on exploring the house.

"Nah but we do have a club to go to this evening, Roman got a meeting with some people," I shot him a 'oh' as I saw one of the rooms that had a lock on it. When I wanted to turned the knob Jon's hand stopped me as I looked at him.

"I wouldn't want to go in there Roman kept it private for his special sessions," He said as my face turned up in disgust.

I quickly stepped away from the door as soon as we heard someone shout Jonathan's name.

"Yo! Uce C'mon we gotta get going it's important ," Jey said as he look at me.

"A'ight I'll talk you later Soraya," As Jonathan walked away from me I could see Jey coming towards my way.

His towering presence loomed above me, making me feel diminutive in comparison. As our eyes locked, the atmosphere around us grew heavy with unspoken tension.

"You good? Act like you seen a ghost girl," He asked.

"I admit, I'm feeling a bit uneasy because you're so tall," I said, quickly looking away to avoid his gaze.

He took hold of my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze once more, his eyes scanning my face as if he were savoring every detail. "Soraya, is it? That's yo' name," he said, and I nodded, feeling his grip tighten around my waist.

"I never caught your name, you know," I said as he had a playful smile. "It's Joshua, but feel free to call me Josh—whatever suits you best ma." Honestly, these endearing nicknames he was throwing my way were going to drive me crazy.

"Josh! Stop flirting with Soraya and let's go before Roman get's pissed!" Jonathan shouted.

"I'll you later then gorgeous," after he jogged towards Jonathan leaving me dumbfounded.

After finishing my mini tour, I stepped into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. I took a seat on my bed, focusing on calming my breath.

The connection we shared in that instant left a profound impact on me, as if he had woven an invisible thread between us. As I lay on my pillow, I struggled to push aside the memory of our encounter, wishing to erase the feelings it stirred within me.

* ˚ ✦ As I regained consciousness, I realized it was still dark outside. Sitting up quickly, I felt a surge of anxiety, hoping I hadn't delayed our plans to hit the club. My eyes were drawn to the dresser, where a stunning dress and some elegant jewelry awaited.

I rushed to change into the dress, eager to avoid upsetting Roman. After all, I'm just a girl trying to keep the peace. Just then, I heard a knock on the door and saw Jey peek his head in from the hallway.

"I see you're awake mama did you sleep well?" Jey said sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Y-yeah I did what time is it if I may ask," I said.

"It's almost time to head out we were hoping that you would be awake,"

I turned my back to him, nodding slightly as I attempted to fasten my necklace. The task proved more challenging than I anticipated, and Jey, noticing my struggle, approached me with purposeful footsteps.

He took the necklace and, as he did, his intoxicating scent enveloped me. It was thrilling yet perilous to be near him, as I struggled to keep my thoughts in check. With a gentle motion, he fastened the necklace around my neck, and I heard the satisfying click that sealed our connection.

I gazed into the mirror, and he mirrored my actions, captivated by my beauty. The way the dress hugged my curves was simply enchanting. I felt his hands glide down my hips, drawing me nearer, enveloped in his intoxicating scent.

"J-Josh..." I muttered while looking up at him.

His eyes met mine, a warm smile lighting up his face as he said, "What's Up, beautiful." I felt an irresistible urge to reach out, my fingers softly gliding over his cheek in a tender caress. In response, he took my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to my palm with his velvety lips.

I felt his pants tightening around him while he brushed up against me.

"W-we gotta get going Josh..."

"There's no need to hurry, darling; they can wait. Just allow me to feel you for a moment," he said. I wanted to object, but instead, I surrendered to his touch, hoping that no one would interrupt us.

He gazed at me with undeniable desire, his lips parting slightly as he tucked them in. His hands glided down my curves, gripping my hips firmly, which made me catch my breath in surprise.

We quickly separated, our attention drawn to Jonathan as he peeked his head through the door.

"Ion' know what yall got goin on in here but Roman said we gotta leave before we are late so hurry it up," He said as Jey rolled his eyes at him.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment over what had just transpired moments ago. Why did I react that way? Why didn't I just push him away when I had the opportunity?

What is going on with me?

Jey looked at my direction chuckling at my facial expression as he walked towards me, "we will be alone again mama and this time nobody will interfere a'ight? c'mon let's go before Roman start tripping." Jey said as I nodded my head.

'Jesus Take the Wheel'

Pretty Little Fears.

A/n: Helllooo I am back with a new story honestly I didn't really like marked so I decided to get into my dark romance bag it's my first time ever doing something like this so please bare with me aight? lol 😭 but I think I might like this story a lot probably will publish it on Tumblr.

But enough of me yapping, I think there is something going on between Soraya and Jey fr fr.

I hope yall enjoyed this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

[girldriveroscar]

UGHH the SUIT. the more i look the more it seems oscar has lost a bit of weight by the end of this season? even his face looks more chiselled and his legs look less meaty overall if that makes sense?whereas lando has bulked up a bit, i swear i remember after the summer break there were a few weekends where his race suit was so tight around the chest that he very nearly couldn't zip all the way up

i also have crazy feelings about oscar's insane blush but i'm starting to ramble and lose focus

for oscar i think a lot of its just residual babyfat going away and his training !! going off the assumption his training includes a lot more cycling these days (cycling is his preferred cardio/got a bike/moved to monaco) id agree his thighs are more toned/ass is fatter now (and the suit kinda just adds to the illusion more that hes lost weight)

(mind u hes wearing shorts under the wetsuit)

converselyyyy i think landos gained a lot of healthy weight, like second puberty weight LOL IMO before he looked fit in the way young guys w good metabolism r naturally toned wo rlly trying — and now he looks intentionally swole from exercise and diet which is Deliciously better. imo. imo imo.

both of them i think REALLY grew into their features and lost their “teenager” face over the course of the season - theory supported by max commenting on how Oscar looks like a chad now (bro just say he's hot wtflmao) and my mother who thinks both are "glowing up" (we had an extensive conversation) (atp i could do a highlight reel on all the weird shit my mom has said about drivers.)

ik the photos r getting redundant but for personal sake i need the side by side. God.

and honestly. Honestly. im kinda waffling. u can really make up any narrative ab their appearances bc their looks/size varies sm in photos. im not claiming this as bible Landoscar Aesthetic Growth frm the 2024 Season.

BUT. but i think i can say with some conviction, the biggest factor separating 23 landoscar to 24 is purely the Race Winner EffectTm aka just. self actualizing in tune with their cars.

feb 24 — nov 24

like the physical diffs r so slight! BUT the energy…the aura... 100% shift. and that shift reflects in how we (me) feel like these r two completely different men. have a longass draft ab this but cant b assd to edit it GUH. U Get what im saying. MCL38 stays fastest and lando can achieve orgasm. Basically.

mini tangent for funnnn. i tried soooo flipping hard to find more recent pics but I cannnnnnt! #recruiting unemployed oomfs. but from the Spanish GP 2023 their Nomex sizes were both S/M ! ngl I feel like Oscars poor posture (sorry I rly do love him its Endearing tome and I have to bring it up every time I talk about him) makes him look a lot bigger than he really is, especiaaallly when u see him from the back. Like he dwarfs lando from the back! but anyway I bring it up bc I think he rly is still one of the smaller drivers on the grid and wouldn't be surprised if his size is still a S/M

Lando is a funny case to me bc sometimes he looks pretty thick? then u see a close up of his wrist or thighs n its like wow ! u are literally breakable!!! to me he's got like..a lean sleeper build idk though

and yesss let s talk about oscars blush bc i could go on and on. does his chest get as rosy as his inner cheeks. do his thumbs go red when he's drunk. does his Three Sixteenths Chinese come out and give him asian flush when he's fucked up. (joking... but do es it... does it....) is his blush the color of his dic (GET DOEN GET DOWN GET DOWN) yeah. anyways.

[whichwaytothebeachseabass]

Things We Carry

Summary: Two broken souls find each other.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black Widow Soldier! Reader.

Contents: very short (about 1K words), description of being a Hydra assassin, description of violence (nothing too graphic), some sadness, some fluff, use of Y/N.

A/N: this is the VERY FIRST fanfic i'm publicly uploading on here! i've had this one in my drafts for a while (among several others lol), and now i've finally decided to upload this one. another note: English is not my first language so there might be some slight mistakes, but i think i got them all out.

enjoy! :)

Lying on an operation table, strapped down, unable to move. The faces of men in white coats and masks occasionally visible as they bend over to take a closer look at the functionality of the human brain. The taste of cold metal on tongues and the whiring of the mechanic chair were the last things to be noticed before everything was replaced by pain. Electric shocks surging through the human body, not enough to kill, though just enough to drive someone mad.

Punches thrown, guns firedguns fired, bodies collapsed on the cold floor, blood everywhere. Their rules where quite simple; don’t stop untill the mission is completed. Failure will not be tollerated. Although, there was no mission yet, this was just a training, a sparring session with fellow soldiers. They should have known better though, with Hydra, it was never just a sparring session. One could say that there was indeed a mission during these training sessions; that mission simply being surviving, taking out every last opponent untill you were the last one standing, and most importantly showing no remorse, no mercy, not a single emotion, as the trigger is pulled.

The missions in itself knew a few more specific ground rules; such as get to location unnoticed, retrieve whatever it it that Hydra wants, leave no traces and most importantly, leave no witnesses. Exterminate every last soul that gets in the way of the mission.

Sometimes, the missions weren’t really missions at all. Some higher-up person with status and a shitload of money would come to Hydra to have someone ‘taken care of’. A merciless killing, so the speak. Those merciless killings, however, were in fact the easy ones. To the average person, taking someones life isn’t something they would even dare to imagine. However for Hydra soldiers it has become second nature. They were being trained to kill. Brainwashed to become machines.

Tests, trainings, briefings, killings… This is what live was; day in, day out, for decades on end. In the beginning, there was resistence, oh yes. Unwillingness to co-operate. This is never what they wanted, never what should have become of their lives. But the pain became unbarable. Shocked within an inch of insanity, enough to break the soul. To become a merciless killing machine.

x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x /x / x / x / x / x / x /x / x / x /

This is what live was for Bucky and Y/N. Raised to be trained killers from a fairly young age. Being fully conscious, yet not knowing which part of you is actually you. Deep down, they might have know that what they were doing was wrong, what was being asked of them was wrong. But when their brains tell them to pull the trigger, that is what they did. That is all they’ve ever know.

Untill they were pulled out of it.

Years of living as an assassin and suddenly you’re expected to live life like everyone else. Mandatory therapy sessions with so-called ‘speciallists’ who didn’t in the slightest understand what they had to go through, what their everyday live was like. Both Y/N and Bucky might not have fully realised what they were doing in the years they worked for Hydra, but they sure remember all of it. Maybe being held captive is a better way of describing their years at Hydra, in stead of ‘work’. That’s what Y/N liked to call it anyway.

What also didn’t particularly help is that both Bucky and Y/N were somewhat in the public eye. Of course, citizens were not supposed to know of Hydra’s assassins. However; Bucky being Steve Rogers’ best friend and Y/N having worked together with Natasha Romanoff’s younger sister Yelena in the Red Room, who were ultimately the ones that got them out of Hydra’s grasp, gave them ties to The Avengers. Because of this, everybody knew what they had done, what they were. Trained killers. Assassins.

Monsters.

Oftentimes, Y/N wasn’t sure if live like this was supposed to be better. The menories of all the lives she took, together with the judgemental stares and scared faces of everyone around her weighing heavy on her shoulders. Bucky felt the same way. The both of them desperately wish they could just do something, anything to lighten that weight that they carry around everywhere they go.

And so, ultimately, they found each other.

Through The Avengers, or at least what was left of them, the two were introduced. Y/N had heard of him, of course she had, Dreykov didn’t call his little mind control games The Winter Soldier Project for nothing. He was the one she was supposed to look up to… what a sick and twisted world they lived in.

It may have taken a while, but the two ex-assassins warmed up to each other. Bucky found her presence refreshing; she provided him with a sense of normalcy as opposed to the constant looks of fear and sorrow of everyone around him. She knew, she’d seen it up close and lived it. Although she wasn’t a supersoldier, and he, being the literal blueprint of Hydra’s brainwashing system, had a lot more years on her as a Hydra captive, they understood each other. Sure, at first Bucky had Steve and Y/N had Yelena, two people that served as rocks for the both of them, as best friends. But Steve ultimately choose to stay in the past with the love of his live, and Yelena ran back into the field to look for any other Black Widow Soldiers that were still under Dreykov’s control. Neither of them blamed their friend for one second, claiming they wanted what was best for them. Still, it came paired with quite some loneliness.

Now, Y/N was laying on the couch with her head on Bucky’s chest, his arm slung around her body. A TV-show neither one of them were really paying attention to playing in the background while they enjoyed each others company in silence, softly breathing each other in. She loved moments like this; alone with him, nobody else around, no obligations at all. Just the two of them in their little bubble of calm and Y/N couln’t help but notice that the weight that they both have been carrying around for so many years, has finally begun to lift. She knew Bucky felt it too. He carressed her hair and placed a soft kiss on her forehead as he continued to look ahead at the TV screen.

In this moment, the both of them knew they were gonna be allright.

[darkbluekies]

Silas likes nutty chocolate, at least that's what he tells you when there are only the nutty ones left in the selection boxes. This darling dosent like nuts much, but it makes him feel all warm inside at the delusional idea that darling left those specifically for him (even if that's not the proper reason)

Kry likes dark chocolate, maybe mint butt deffiantley has a box in the attic of small individuals wrapped ones liquor flavoured along with his first draft of his story. He might never eat them even, but soemtimes he goes and looks at them because they remind him of his parents. He once stole one from a cupboard when his parents wernt looking, only to realise they were horrible and alcohol flavoured and put him off sweets for like a year afterward. It made him believe his parents about lots of things being far to unhealthy for him to even think about eating because if chocolate tasted that bad they must be right!

Hedwig loves strawberry bonbons, realised a long while ago that she ate far too many to be healthy but couldn't come to regret it when you asked how her breath always smelt like strawberrys because you love the smell of strawberrys.

Edmund really likes afternoon teas. He saw his mother have them with other ladies soemtimes When he was little and always made an effort to steal a cake or pastry from them. When he first became king he ate them a lot in private because in weird way it made him feel closer to the mother he never really got to know. He hasn't eaten one since he met darling because he's worried it makes him seem less manly, but I'm sure they both would share one if he asked.

Jerry doesn't like chocolate. Well, she dosent like most chocolate. Then she find you in the kitchen, following some tiktok trend of homemade chocolate and she dies a little inside because she knows she'll have to pretend to enjoy it for your sake. But then she eats it and it tastes how you smell and it has your fingerprints from where you touched it too much during the drying prosess, everything screams you. Now Jerry has you make a new batch of chocolate very week.

(Not ment to be accurate or anything, i hope life feels better soon for you blue <3)

are you reading my mind because i literally opened up one of our new year's choclate boxes because i wasn't feeling the best lol. Thank you by the way. There's so much going on at the same time right now and i don't feel like my body can handle it all, but i'm taking one day at a time.

Silas unironically likes liqour chocolate. He's the one that eats them voluntarily. He doesn't like those fruit ones, they're too gooey and tastes horrible.

In sweden, we have a choclate box called "Aladdin" (aka the one i just opened lmao) and in that box, i think he would share my favorite "höstnougat" (autumn nougat) with a taste of coffee. But he would be the type to have 1 with his coffee instead of actually snacking on them. His parents probably had the Aladdin box too, because of how old it is, but it's a calssic so he needs to have it but he wouldn't really like it.

Not to be all Narnia, or anything, but I think my King Edmund would like turkish delight. I don't know why, but it just feels like it fits him? Or hard candy, like those that have been made for years and years and years. Old fashioned boy here.

Jerry doesn't really like chocolate, you're right in that. I don't think she really likes "sweet" at all. I think she's more of a savory girl. But, I think she likes ice cream. And she likes fruity flavours (wonder why)

Hedwig. Oh boy. She loves sweet and she loves strawberry. Everything strawberry flavoured is her absolute favorite. Both natural and artificial. But I also have a weird feeling that she likes artificial banana too. This girl loves lollipops<3

[turtleblogatlast]

Combining the boys’ abilities (and I mean actual combining not just using them at the same time) because I was thinking about it and wow they’re kinda cracked actually-

[ cw: death mention / def not for them though 💀]

Raph & Mikey: infinite clones (aka unbeatable) + strength completely unparalleled + infinite cloned chains + the clones are very fast and can fly + potentially reverse any damage on main shield clones or even damage in general

Mikey & Donnie: constructs that also can last much longer than usual possibly forever + potential future vision + every single cable or wire or anything of that sort has the potential to be taken over akin to Mikey’s chains + full telekinesis

Donnie & Leo: pinpoint portal/teleportation themselves or constructs just by knowing where to aim (aka instadeath for any enemy if used right) + telepathy

Leo & Raph: teleporting clones who can grow or shrink at will (which can also be instadeath like above if used right) + said clones can also act as homing spots to switch places with + potentially swap damage taken to clones

Raph & Donnie: they literally can make Voltron, but more than one + basically impossible to destroy shields + constructs can also be cloned

Mikey & Leo: freezing time and being able to move during it + heat death of the universe + “oops hey it’s other alternate iterations of us???” + this is a time and space team up you’re not winning this-

Basically any combo is an instant “you win.” I wanna go further into these combos later and maybe even add or subtract as I think more on it because there’s so many I left out and I can always extrapolate on and explain these ones more, but this was fun and these boys have terrifying powers even without combining them all together.

Seriously, should each of them train these abilities to the best they can be, there is no beating them even if they’re alone.

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)

[crybaby-bkg]

Trainer Bakugou who you're a little terrified of the first day you're paired with him. when asking for a trainer at the gym, you had expected the friendly redhead who always looked so sweet and encouraging and cut as hell. you weren't expecting his grumpy looking blond counterpart, who was all glares and shouts for his clients to keep pushing themselves.

you were hesitant at first, before you quickly realized that it was all a ruse, for the most part. he pushed those who needed that extra encouragement, but was more lenient to people like you who simply wanted a professionals guidance. so, after a few weeks, you liked him for the most part, and his looks damn sure made it easier to cozy up to the big guy.

the only issue you've been having with Bakugou though are the...coregasms, as you've seen them been named on social media, that you keep experiencing. the first time, you weren't sure what it was, why your stomach and pelvis kept tightening up. you couldn't have...climaxed, or anything. you hadn't even been touched!

but, as the weeks go by, and the workouts get more strenuous, they've become harder and harder to subside and ignore, and so had Bakugou's commands to keep going when you suddenly stopped. you can only lie and say its cramps so many times before he realizes that something is up.

you're midway through a good morning, when that familiar feeling starts tightening in the pit of your gut. you clench your eyes shut, shaking your head a little, as if you could ward off the impending feeling. bakugou notices though, frowning at your almost pained expression in the mirror, walking up behind you to stop you as you pull yourself back up. his hands are on your waist, and as you come up, you feel his bulge glide over the curve of your ass, and something in you snaps.

you gasp, buckling over, one hand on your knee as the other reaches back for bakugou's hand to keep you up as your thighs shake. you can feel yourself spasming, clenching and unclenching around nothing, secretly wishing you had something that could fill you up, something that you felt throb against you as bakugou leaned over your form.

"Another coregasm, huh?" he asks you lowly, his lips brushing your ear as you bite your bottom lip to hold back your moan. your eyes buck open though, when his words sink in, head tipping back to look at him in the mirror, only to find his gaze already on you.

"You knew every time?" you ask quietly, panting now that its finally starting to pass over you. but bakugou doesn't let you up from this position, especially since the area you're in seems to be desolate for now.

"It's hard to ignore how pretty you look when you cum, sweetheart." Bakugou seals his words with a firm press to your ass, his cock rubbing the seam, and you can practically feel the heat and veins of it through your thin bottoms. you groan under your breath, getting lost in the feeling of him grinding against you, when he suddenly speaks again.

"You still feel it?" he asks, voice low as he looks at you through his lashes. you nod, biting at your bottom lip as you meet the steady rock of his hips, watching how he smiles before slotting his lips against your ear.

"Want me to help make it go away?" and he does, in the employee locker room after hours. he makes it go away, and rebuild, and go away again and again until you're hoarse and your legs are weaker than they typically are on leg day. bakugou helps the ache go away, but not for that sweet redheaded coworker of his, whose fists have fucked his cock the entire time of watching bakugou rail you over the locker room bench again and again.

[leafwateraddict]

Tfw you realize the dating sim you found dumpster diving might be cursed-

Day 6 of @sansxyouweek : Game On!

Alternate versions under the cut!

It came out a bit more menacing than intended- but just know that she is staring lovingly <3

[vynnyal]

This is a pretty good point in the wip to share this, methinks :]

Map part for the hole dwelling map, starring... Not my ocs! I wanted to use ocs, but I don't have any-- so I just used the characters from a fic I was reading at the time 😂

Turns out, the symbolism was so much fun to twist into the 11 seconds I had to work with, I ended up going way more complex than I meant to. If you wanna read the fic this was based on, please do!! And tell the author I said hi! :D

[youreanerdharvey]

like lambs to the slaughter.

this is for @cardinaldust ‘s art challenge thing!!

[meadow-roses]

Every day I wake up and I mess up in a million ways, but maybe that's not the point, and no one's counting but myself. Maybe that is a part of the loving- inconveniencing and being inconvenienced in return. And if all the million ways I'm messing up are met with a million times of being forgiven, there's a special kind of beauty to that.

And from an outside perspective, when you love someone is an inconvenience even a negative thing? Aren't you looking for ways to bend yourself to make them a little more comfortable? "Welcome into my life, let me scoot over and make some room for you!" Where's the beauty in trying to just squish yourself and depriving the other of making room for you?? Isn't that then more a form of selfishness than love?

[eemoo1o-animoo]

I can’t draw so I uh I, uh-

This post is brought to you by someone liking my posts with a coloured-in boyband Edward pfp and me mistaking it for fanart of Murdoc from Gorillaz.

[chapinii]

Many on Quesadilla island believe that Fitmc was very much closeted to himself and the world up until he arrived on the QSMP, but perhaps that closet wasn't quite as locked as some may presume.

With the environment of 2b2t being so rife with hatred and homophobia, a deep and meaningful relationship was always out of the question. But within its depths lay the rub, of Fit, going through the all too familiar queer experience of being very aware of his sexuality against this toxic landscape, and knowing the possibility of others out there being just like him. Others whom he could never risk reaching out to in public, but longed to all the same.

He'd heard and seen his fair share of casual to severe homophobia, as well as witnessing with some amusement how the homoerotic tension some players swear against can tear factions apart. He knows all too well the irony that comes with a land so dominated by toxic masculinity and bigotry. This is a place where a man will stare you in the eyes, caress your cheek so gently, then spit in your face in disgust before insta-killing you. Of course, the price for outing somebody in such a place is a pretty penny for sure. Being a blank slate in the land of anarchy is your strongest asset. The last thing you want to do is throw fuel onto the fire and give people even more of a reason to put your head on a spike.

And so, he kept his feelings repressed- for the most part. He'd hide a blush as he melted internally over a handshake with a particularly muscular allied base leader. He'd allow himself the luxury of a poster, of an old Hollywood western starring a (very) dashing cowboy, that he'd stick crudely on the bedroom wall of wherever he'd end up staying for a while. But perhaps, just a couple times, he'd had a few small but significant experiences: the touch of a hand on his for just a fraction too long, warm eyes from a face he can't quite remember looking him up and down, all but rendering him breathless. Split second opportunities that would make those feelings bubble up to the surface, too strong to ever truly ignore. Being a lone mercenary in a world of anarchy is all well and good, but God does it get lonely.

He and Pac like to take things slow. It's a mutual decision. Neither of them have ever truly felt the need to sit down and discuss why. Fit wouldn't like him to know what he thinks about whenever the subject drifts towards the two of them going any further with their relationship. Every time Pac makes any kind of suggestive advance, heck, even if he looks at the man for too long, his mind can't help but think back to one quiet night on 2b2t, so many years ago. Flashes of encountering a stranger, deep underground, of a clumsy, desperate kiss. Stubble on stubble, the raw smell of dirt and sweat and cigarette smoke. He remembers the thrill, the terrifying electricity of it all, until a clatter was heard in the cave behind them and the moment was gone forever. It meant everything and nothing at the same time, that chance encounter. It was the closest he'd ever came to a real connection with somebody. He didn't know what became of the other man who so urgently whispered 'run', into his ear. He could have killed Fit right there, made a point of it, and yet he didn't. The mere memory of it petrified him, but by God, did he feel alive.

All the same, he didn't dare risk anything like that again. That was until he came to the QSMP, a place where he didn't have to hide himself from others, but still he airs on the side of caution. He's afraid of getting things wrong, of throwing himself into something he can't run away from. This isn't just some random encounter with a player in 2b2t. Pac is different. Fit knows he's got a past of his own, he sees how it torments him sometimes. What if daring to make a move, even kissing him opens up old wounds for the both of them?

Fit's no longer hiding in the dark. Making things 'official' with Pac is not a once in a lifetime chance, but the longer Fit hangs around him he feels like it is. He wants to keep Pac safe just as he kept himself safe for all those years. When he finally lets himself get closer to his roommate, one wrong move and another hypothetical cave noise could sound, followed by the form of something even more terrible that could rip the two apart forever and send Fit straight back to square one.

Slow and steady wins the race. Slow and steady keeps them both safe.

But God, what he'd give to feel that thrill again.

[todayisafridaynight]

//screaming//

art for fics that changed my brain chemistry (jo's pov | masumi's pov)