#it’s time the girly got a proper tag

[tanglesoup]

changing out my trip tag to trip the sungazer because that’s the tag i see most people using for her

[meiieiri]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 [gojo satoru]

synopsis: in every other universe and lifetime he has yet to lead, megumi will always cherish the painfully brief time he felt the warmth of a proper family and would have gladly referred to himself as the son of the strongest.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader | song inspo: chemtrails over the country club, scott street | visuals: megumi’s jacket

warnings: angst-ish, canon-compliant violence (mostly caused by our pookie wookie megumi who doesn’t tolerate scumbag bullies), mentions of bullying, and possible (bc i’m delulu) character death. | a/n: i just want megumi to have one last moment with his dad please, gege, i’m on my knees here. also hehe, get the title? ya’ll get it? someone please shove that arctic-haired freak to the NORTH! 🥹

Nobara Kugisaki is the classic definition of an Instagram girlie with a passion for fashion.

Honestly, she could appropriately appraise clothes without a second glance, and she could differentiate big fashion brands just by the fabric and silhouette alone even without a brand logo.

It happened on a Monday afternoon while she and Yuji were having a quick coffee in the lounge. Yuji is currently playing one of his Nintendo Switch MMORPG games that he bought from the mall last Saturday while Nobara was scrolling through her phone, swiping left as she watches her mutuals’ Instagram stories. The trio is incomplete today since Megumi mentioned he’ll be running some errands with you and Satoru today.

After positively getting envious of Mei Mei’s supposed extravagant shopping trip in Ginza today, Kugisaki promptly mutes any stories from her for a full twenty four hours. Then, as she swipes left yet again, she nearly drops her phone on the ground which would pretty much set her off on a rampage because she just got its LCD screen fixed. But luckily, she holds onto it.

“Fushiguro has an Instagram account?!”

Yuji himself hits pause on the game he’s playing and leans over the table to see what Kugisaki is talking about. No way. Fushiguro? That sulky, couldn’t-be-bothered-to-care-but-I-actually-do-care embodiment of teenage angst having an Instagram handle? What would he even post on there?

Their questions are answered as Fushiguro’s feed pops up, and it’s filled with his pictures, but that’s not the issue. The two dunderheads didn’t seem to mind that in every photo, Megumi looked like a magazine cover boy, what caught their attention is the apparel he’s wearing.

“What the hell?! He’s wearing Arc’teryx?” Kugisaki couldn’t believe it. She zooms in on the candid shot of Megumi in what looks to be a ski resort and an audible gasp escapes her throat. No way. No frigging way. She does a quick image search and sure enough, she is redirected to Arc’teryx’s official website. See? Kugisaki never misses when it comes to fashion.

Yuji’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees the price tag. “One thousand five hundred US dollars?!”

“And look at this! He’s literally tagged in Gojo and Y/N-sensei’s stories.”

Sure enough, the first they see is Satoru’s story which has a video of you picking out new clothes from the rack for Megumi to try on in the fitting room. You looked so cute and teeny tiny next to the teenager and Kugisaki giggles at the thought you walking around with two literal giants in the mall, one of them being your ward and the other, your arctic-haired husband of three years.

“There’s another one!” Itadori says excitedly. The next is a story you took, it’s a photo of Megumi and Gojo, their backs turned and their hands fully occupied by shopping bags, seemingly unaware of the camera. In the photo, they’re checking out new sneakers in Onitsuka Tiger’s storefront window. In a flash, Kugisaki switches off her phone, and immediately begins to head out the door. “Hey, where’re you going?”

Nobara knows that particular galleria, it should be in Tokyo Midtown. “Out, maybe I could borrow Gojo-sensei’s or Y/N-sensei’s credit card!”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come along?”

Gojo chuckles under his breath. It’s honestly amusing how you won’t normally ask that, given his newfound title as the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer of this generation. A skirmish with a grade two cursed spirit? Pfft. That’s practically child’s play to your white-haired boyfriend. A rogue grade one cursed spirit that turned out to be a special grade? Maybe you’ll sneak some bandages in his bag just in case. Bottom line is you wholeheartedly trust Satoru will always make it out of a mission in one piece.

But here you were seemingly more tense than usual which is incomprehensible because today’s hardly dangerous mission is simple.

Track down the son of Toji Fushiguro.

“I think I got it, babe.” Satoru leans his head in through the rolled down car window to plant a kiss on your forehead. He pats your cheek lovingly, setting off in the direction of the house after taking one last confirmatory look at the address written down in the file sheet. “Well, let’s hope he’s nothing like his dad. Promise you’ll check on me if I don’t come back in an hour?” he teases.

You lightly slap his wrist. Sometimes you wonder how you fell in love with this literal man-child. He’s just so insufferable. Gorgeous in every way but insufferable all the same. “I’m pretty sure a six-year-old boy isn’t gonna try to murder you. If he does, let the record show that I sympathize with him completely.”

“You meanie!”

Sticking his tongue out at you when you blow him a kiss, he disappears into the small street adjacent to the neighborhood’s main road. Coming here, Satoru was uncharacteristically nervous. At the rest stop earlier, you watched the scene tensely from the convenience store window. For once, the obnoxiously loud sorcerer was quiet, hands in his uniform pockets, his cerulean orbs trained on the pavement, his foot kicking the asphalt pebbles on the ground, deep in thought.

To be honest, he had no obligation to make the journey here even if this entire affair was born from Toji Fushiguro’s final words that sounded almost like a desperate plea. “In two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the Zenin clan. Do whatever you will with that.” Satoru doesn’t know why — he’s not exactly the brightest when it comes to his interpersonal relationship skills so he could be wrong about this — but those twenty one words sounded more like four simple words: “Please save my son.”

And so, in a matter of only thirty minutes, you spot Satoru from afar, his hand protectively around his would have been assassin’s six-year-old son as they walk back to the car. Looks like the little boy had made his choice.

And you could see with the way Satoru protectively held Megumi back from crossing the street on a green light that he has also made his choice. Just thirty minutes ago, you were bantering with the version of Satoru that would be reluctant to go out of his way to help someone, now, you were face to face with someone new, someone who has been changed almost in a blink of an eye.

Stepping out of the car, you make your way towards the pair, a faint smile on your lips at the sight of Megumi’s tiny backpack slung over Satoru’s shoulder. Your boyfriend gently nudges Megumi over in your direction, introducing him and you crouch down to meet the little boy’s hesitant eyes. “Hi there, Megumi.” Your voice is as carefully gentle as a psalm, you didn’t want to overwhelm him more than he probably already is. “I’m Y/N.”

“Hello.”

“Ice cold,” Satoru whistles, ruffling Megumi’s hair. But you figured that would be the case. A quiet breath of laughter comes from Satoru when you smile endearingly at the kid’s curtness.

As the three of you settle into the backseat, you and Satoru share a fond look when Megumi who has acted all guarded and silent the entire ride home from Chiba begins to drift off to sleep, his arms hugging his backpack but he was dangerously teetering off the seat, so Satoru gently picks him up, allowing him to lay his tiny head on his shoulder.

“He’s gonna stick around with us for a long time, huh?” you whispered, rubbing Megumi’s back as he slept soundly in Satoru’s arms, the three of yu blissfully unaware of just how much your life has changed. You came to Chiba and there was only you and Satoru, now, you were three. And though you know Satoru doesn’t intend to step in as a guardian, you could tell he was slowly settling into the inevitability of that fact. This boy needed a new start, a home, and people to guide him as he grew.

“…Yeah, he will,” Satoru answers, his eyes filled with wonder himself. Earlier when he first met Megumi, he told him to become strong enough to keep up with him.

But for now, maybe this was enough.

For the most part, Megumi is a good kid.

He diligently helps you with the housework without needing to be told twice the same way he diligently trains under Gojo’s tutelage. He studies hard despite only being in primary school, and he’s well-mannered in every way…at least to you, the kid won’t pass up the opportunity to scowl and call Satoru a lanky freak when he’s being pestered by him.

Because he’s so young to be sleeping in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s dormitories, you and Satoru settled into the idea of renting an apartment near the campus premises. Since you and Satoru are eighteen years old now, it was high time that the two of you start growing into your roles as functional adults which means leasing an apartment, paying the bills, growing your careers and taking your relationship to the next level.

Of course, you and Satoru both piled in cash when it comes to raising Megumi. Satoru mostly shouldered rent, monthly utilities and Megumi’s tuition, being a rich guy like him, those were practically small beans to him. You, on the other hand, shouldered the groceries, Megumi’s clothes and other needs.

One day, while on your way to pick up Megumi, you pass by the trendy Daikanyama district due to a road closure leading to the Ebisu district where Megumi’s primary school is. The inconvenience is nothing short of serendipitous as you and your boyfriend really did need a quick breather and some time for yourselves.

“I feel like I’m gonna turn into a wine dad very soon. Who would have known enrolling a kid would be that tough?” Satoru huffs, his hand protectively around your waist as you walked past boutique after boutique. “Like how am I supposed to know what his blood type is for the school clinic record?”

You hummed, sneakily stealing a kiss from him to which he responds to by pulling you closer, and pretending to bite off your ear. “For all the school knew, Megumi is ours. That would explain why they felt a little icky towards us when they saw how young we are back in that parent-teacher meeting.”

“Mmph, fair point. A cute son will come from a handsome father after all—“

“—Oh please. You’re okay at best.”

“You didn’t say that last night when I had you all folde—“

“—Please do not finish that sentence in public.”

Digressing, Satoru sighs, planting a contrite kiss on your warm cheek as the two of you leisurely walk down the picturesque lane of Tokyo’s very own version of Soho. Once you reach the main road, a certain outerwear apparel store catches your eye. You stop in front of the store window, looking curiously at the displayed winter items. “Megumi’s birthday is coming up soon, no? We should get him something nice.”

“Hmm? Oh right, the 22nd is coming up,” Satoru hums thoughtfully, leading you inside the store. There, the two of you split up to look for a nice gift for Megumi. There, he is approached by a staff member who asks if he’s looking for anything in particular. Satoru clears his throat, nodding. “I’m looking to buy a gift for my son.”

Somehow, you heard that from across the store and you shoot Satoru an amused look when he refers to Megumi as ‘his son’.

“Right, and how old might he be? We have a batch of new arrivals that came in today. They’re perfect for kids aged four and above.” At that, you rejoin Satoru and the sales staff leads you to check out the items at the front of the store. You and Satoru sort through the rack and find one that the two of you agree on: a fleece two-toned gravel winter jacket.

After paying for it, the two of you rush to get to Ebisu elementary school. Making your way to the gate, Megumi instantly spots you and Satoru, the latter being very difficult to miss since he pretty much towered over everyone else.

“Hi, kid, d’you have fun today?” you crouch down to give Megumi a hug. Between you and Satoru, you were the more clingy one towards Megumi, there’s hardly any hesitation in your heart when you pull him in for a warm embrace or carry him in your arms. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind one bit, but if Satoru did any of the those things to him, he’ll probably headbut him.

“It was fine,” Megumi says shyly once you pull away. “Oh and I got a hundred on the math homework you helped me with.”

“You did?” you smiled. “I’m so proud of you, Megumi.” Satoru smiles, going to ruffle Megumi’s hair only for the little boy to duck away from his hand and hide behind you.

Chuckling at the kid’s antics, Satoru concedes, putting up his free hand in surrender while his other one held onto the gift bag you got. Megumi reads the name of the store: “The North Face”. Following Megumi’s gaze, Satoru grins, handing Megumi the bag. “Here, we got you something. Call it an advanced birthday gift.”

Megumi’s expression screamed: “You didn’t have to.” but you don’t miss the look of surprise and gratitude that shined through his features. You gently nudge him to open it and his breath hitches in his throat when he sees the gift you got him — the first gift he’s ever received.

“Happy birthday, Megumi,” you and Satoru greet the little boy, with Satoru helping Megumi to try it on.

That was the first time Megumi initiated a heartfelt hug and the first time he ever included Satoru, his little arms trying their hardest to include the two of you, so you decide to help him out, and your and Satoru’s arms engulf the little one.

“Thank you.”

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m headed there now. Alright, see you soon. I love you.”

Everything happened so quickly. One minute you were in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s teacher lounge organizing the first years’ missions for the next few days when you receive a call from Ebisu elementary school, informing you that Megumi got into a horrible fight and was now in the school clinic ready to be picked up, the next you were dashing out the door hurrying over to the school with your heart pounding in your chest.

There, you are the quintessential picture of a frazzled mother looking for her son in the school clinic.

“Y/N!”

“Megumi,” you breathed, your eyebrows knitting together in worry. Gathering him into your arms, you sit on the tiny hospital bed. “What happened? They said you got into a fight? And where’s your jacket?” He was wearing the jacket you got for him this morning when you and Satoru dropped him off, actually, he’s been wearing it a lot, indicating it’s one of, if not his favorite jacket.

Before Megumi could even speak, it looks like the kid that he got into a tussle with had already tattled on him to his mother and now said mother is furiously berating you and Megumi, not caring if anyone else in the clinic could overhear the scandalous remarks she’s throwing your way.

“I want full disciplinary action against this boy!” the middle aged woman all but screeches to the school’s principal, pointing an accusatory finger at Megumi who doesn’t flinch but you hear him sniffle. He’s never been yelled at like that before.

“Ma’am, please, let’s settle this like two rational adults—“

“—Oh I will, I can’t say the same about you! Are you not the least bit ashamed that you couldn’t teach your son good morals?” She then theatrically goes to place her hands on her son’s shoulders. And you have to be honest, with that bruised lip of his alongside his bleeding nose, Megumi had done some serious damage to the boy.

“I — Megumi is a good kid, not once, have we ever seen him hit someone for no reason—“

“—So you’re saying it’s my son’s fault yours is emotionally unstable? This boy doesn’t need a good talking to, what he needs is psychological intervention!”

“Alright, can everyone just please calm down?” The principal, too, seems visibly uncomfortable with the vile words the other parent was spewing at you like machine gun fire. “We’re all here to fix the problem, not make it worse.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you could tell this conversation has reached an impasse. Clearly, there’s no way you could reach a mutual understanding of what should be done to resolve the issue.

The older woman looks at you in disdain, grumbling under her breath at the humiliation of being scolded, “What should I even expect from an irresponsible woman who got knocked up before she was even an adult?”

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife or my son that way.”

Megumi looks up, tears in his eyes when Satoru strides in, his normally shining blue eyes dark with a fury that cannot be quelled. You can’t even feel the butterflies that went wild in your stomach when he accidentally referred to you as ‘his wife’ without so much as a stutter because you’re honestly this close to chewing the vile woman out. It didn’t matter if she insulted you, but if she does so much as insult and make your boy cry, you and Satoru will give the weasel a matching patch on her scalp where there should have been hair had you not ripped it out.

But now was not the time to prove her right.

People have always judged you and Satoru for being acting parents at such a young age, often giving you rude stares when you’re out and about doing the most menial of things like shopping at the supermarket or spending some time in the kōen, people found your current situation disgusting, borderline immoral, which is why you initially had trouble looking for an elementary school that would properly entertain you, Satoru and Megumi and not dismiss you three as a bunch of kids playing house.

“Satoru…” you rub your boyfriend’s arm soothingly.

“Babe, she insulted you and ‘Gumi,” Satoru whispers sadly. “I can’t just let her do that.”

All of a sudden, Megumi’s voice cuts through the tension in the room. “Daisuke was being mean. He ruined Hana-chan’s project and made her cry.” At that, the kid named Daisuke bites his lip, his skin turning pallid at the revelation. “And when I told him to apologize, he and Kaito…” Megumi whimpers, trailing off. He averts his gaze from your and Satoru’s, feeling guilty.

And right then and there, the story becomes even clearer when an unexpected witness comes to Megumi’s defense.

“Megumi-kun? We found your jacket, it’s not too damaged, but you may want to have your mama and papa wash it when you get home.” The school nurse walks in and hands you the ruined jacket, it had been cut all over but since it’s fleece, the damage isn’t too bad, not only that, it had crayon marks all over it and it smelled of the dumpster.

“…Daisuke and Kaito ruined my jacket and I punched him,” Megumi sniffles. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t apologizing for punching Daisuke, that much you could tell, he was apologizing to you and Gojo for supposedly not taking care of the gift you two got him just last week.

The vile mother scoffs at your son’s apology. “Save your breath, you little liar—“

“—He wasn’t talking to you,” Satoru glares at the woman, effectively shutting her up. “Come on, we’re going home.” With that, Satoru, being careful with him given his sprained wrist, carries Megumi out the clinic. You offer the principal a polite nod, indicating that you’ll cooperate with any sanction she seems fit for Megumi, Kaito and Daisuke, before following Satoru and Megumi to the parking lot. A melancholic smile appears on your lips when you hear Satoru reassuring Megumi that you’ll just wash and mend the jacket once you get home to which, Megumi only buries his face in the crook of his father figure’s neck.

If there is one good thing that happened today, it’s the fact that you proved to yourself and to each other that, no one in this world is allowed to hurt or insult your family.

Satoru wakes up to an empty bed and he doesn’t pretend to wonder where you are. He stays like that for a full minute, simply staring at the ceiling while your side of the bed slowly loses its warmth. He knows you’re hurting, and he knows just how much this entire ordeal has taken from you. First, you had to deal with him being sealed in the Prison Realm, now this…

You really just couldn’t catch a break, could you?

Slowly, Satoru gets up and pads across the hallway, entering a painfully familiar room. The owner of the room has only since recently moved out, but for ten years, this room is one he normally frequented with you, whether it be on Christmas mornings to greet the little prince that occupied such a special place in your heart or on nights when the three of you just simply needed to hold each other, searching for comfort, while you slept.

The door creaks open and Satoru’s eyes well up with tears, his heart plagued by the same emotional turmoil that was haunting you day in and day out. “I just want our boy to come home…I want our son back,” you cried as you held the jacket Megumi had outgrown, the same one he wore almost everyday that winter when he first came to live with you and Satoru.

Instantly, Satoru sits next to you on Megumi’s bed, hushing your cries, kissing away each agonizing tear that slipped from the confines of your sorrowful orbs.

“He must be so scared,” you sniffled, picturing Megumi in the darkest crevices of Sukuna’s soul, trapped and alone. “I don’t even know if he’s alright, if he’s even slept at all or if he’s being tormented by Sukuna day in and day out. What if he’s in pain? What if he’s cold?” you sobbed into your husband’s chest, your cries growing more desperate with each hour Megumi isn’t home safe.

“Shh, shh…I know, sweetheart…I’ll get him back, I promise I’ll bring him home.”

Or he’ll die trying.

Somewhere in the void, Megumi Fushiguro is in a state of catatonic stasis. Is this what limbo feels like? He just wants to sleep, to give in and let Sukuna’s soul consume him.

It’s so cold…so…cold.

No! He can’t give up, more than his desire to tap out and just live and let die…he wants to go home where he belongs.

You and Satoru must be so worried about him and he was worried too, what if something had happened out there while he was here? What if…something happened to the two of you when he hasn’t even done a thing to thank you both for all the love you’ve given him throughout these years? So with his last inch of consciousness remaining, he spends it on a silent plea.

“Mom…dad…please come find me.”

[yueliie]

🎐.お茶 — missing you featuring umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, kaji ren & kiryu mitsuki

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍙 ˓ 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 ﹗how much does he miss you and what did he do when you aren't around?

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍜 ˓ 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙍𝙀 ﹗fluff, gn!reader

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍡 ˓ 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀 ﹗i got this silly idea when I was showering lmao so I couldn't help myself and draft it down immediately haha, hiragi is here cuz his part was the first one I thought of so here is a little something for all hiragi girlies out there but please go easy on me since it's my first timing writing for him ><!! also what do you guys think of the new layout? I might use this from now on actually cuz it's more colorful...?

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍛 ˓ 𝙏𝘼𝙂𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 ﹗tagging my lovely moots @stunie , @littleplantfreak & @kajibunny for their man~ let me know if you want to be tag for any specific character.

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍘 ˓ 𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙆 ﹗part 2 coming soon... | m.list

⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍥 ˓ 𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂... ﹗missing you featuring umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, kaji ren & kiryu mitsuki...

🎐.お茶 — umemiya hajime

— he planted your favourite flower so whenever he looks at it, the blossom reminds him of your smile.

Even if it is in the harshest season, Ume take great care of the plant, making sure it gets enough light, giving it the proper amount of fertilizer, cleaning the pot, cutting off dry leaves and so on. In his eyes, that flower is what spiritually connected you and him so it's only right for him to want to take care of your favourite flower, right?

And once it's time for it to show its vibrant and glorious beauty, he would take the flower and make it a pressed flower bookmark so he can feel closer to you when he carries it with him all the time even if you're miles apart.

🎐.お茶 — hiragi toma

— he has your handkerchief and never give it back to you ever since.

Hiragi is someone who always carries around a lot of handkerchiefs for emergencies, but he never lets anyone else use yours; wash it, iron it, you name it, he does It all to preserve It as much as he can. But even if the handkerchief got all old and wrinkly one day, he would never throw it away.

It is his most prized treasure, and he keeps it in his breast pocket at all times so whenever he looks at it, he will be reminded of your angry face and how much you nagging at him for getting hurt as you patched him up.

🎐.お茶 — kaji ren

— he listens to your favourite songs and remembers your humming to them while you're studying.

When you aren't around, listening to your favourite songs helps him to stay calm because he would remember that precious memory of your little performance, humming to the song as you worked through countless study books and soon enough, his head would be filled with your humming instead of the singer's voice.

And when Kaji found a song that made him think of you, he would make a whole new playlist just for that but he would never let you listen to them because it would give him away that he was constantly thinking of you while you were away.

🎐.お茶 — kiryu mitsuki

— he checked his phone 24/7 to see if there were any new text messages from you.

Kiryu is always on his phone, but while you were away for a little while, he would constantly be checking your chatroom every single time he received a notification, and when he saw it wasn't from you, he got slightly disappointed, and he does it so frequently that the people around him noticing it.

And when he does get a text from you, it's usually when you ask him if he wants any souvenirs or ask about his day and because of that, he sometimes forgets to log in to his game; everything about you is his top priority.

© yueliie 2024. do not steal, copy, repost, edit, translate or use my works.

[jetii]

The Bet

Pairing: Kix x fem!Reader / Kix x Nurse!Reader

Words: 8,981

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! coworkers to friends to lovers, some blood/wound care but it's very minor, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), a hint of a praise kink

Summary: You and Kix have been dancing around each other for months. When losing a bet finds you alone in your apartment together for the first time, sparks fly.

A/N: I honestly was not a Kix girlie before writing this, so hopefully he's not too ooc!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Kix watches you move about your small kitchen from his seat at the counter. The beer he nurses in his hand is still cool, the condensation softening the label enough for his thumb to peel, a nervous habit you notice but are too polite to mention.

You pause your stirring momentarily to throw him an exasperated look over your shoulder. 

“I know.”

“I’m just saying you don’t need to do all this for me,” he says, gesturing towards the stove where a large pot bubbles, a delicious scent wafting through the air. “Pizza would’ve been fine.”

“And miss the opportunity to show off my excellent cooking?” you ask with a scoff, though it lacks any real conviction. 

You turn to face him. He looks so out of place in your tiny apartment, perched on the stool that is dwarfed by his size. His shoulders hunch as if he's trying to make himself seem smaller, a feat in itself for someone so large. 

You try to give him a smile that's more encouraging than teasing. “Not a chance.”

He shakes his head, returning the grin with one of his own as he looks down at his hands. The smile falls away when he sees the state of the label he had been absently peeling. He grimaces and balls up the ruined paper before throwing it at the trash can, a small ping echoing through the apartment as it lands in the center of the bin.

The corner of your mouth twitches into a smirk, and you roll your eyes playfully. Kix chuckles softly, and some of the tension dissipates from the room.

It's nice to hear him laugh after the week you've both had. You'd been near dead on your feet by the time the Resolute docked on Coruscant, but you'd promised Kix a proper home-cooked meal, and you weren't about to renege on your deal. A bet was a bet, after all.

Bets between the two of you were far from an unusual occurrence. Normally, it was simple things: what they were serving in the mess for breakfast, how many hangover remedies you'd have to administer after shore leave, or even just something as silly as who could finish their work faster. It had become so common to the point that the 501st was more than used to seeing you and Kix going back and forth, betting on just about everything.

This time was no different. You'd been arguing over a patient's chart one morning, and it had escalated until the two of you had settled on a bet. Whoever could get the most patients through their physical would win.

The only thing was that, by the time the two of you finally had the opportunity to settle the score, Kix had gotten the entire company in on it, and had somehow managed to get Rex to take his side. You had been absolutely furious at the time, but you got over it quickly when he made his request.

He could have chosen anything. He could have made you stay late or fill out paperwork for a week. He could have had you do something embarrassing.

Instead, he asked you to cook him dinner.

You don't have a lot of time outside of work, so when you do, you cook. It's your favorite hobby and one you're actually pretty good at. You take great pride in it. Cooking for Kix though? That's different.

It's not that you don't want to do it. On the contrary, you're thrilled by the opportunity. It's just that you want it to be perfect.

The apartment is quiet save for the sound of your work. You have the radio playing, the volume turned low so the music is more background noise than anything. You don't mind. You've always liked the sound of rain, and it gives you the opportunity to listen for Kix.

You'd noticed over the course of your friendship that Kix is usually quiet when he's comfortable. It had taken a while, but you learned his different silences. It was the same way he analyzed you: by the cadence of your footsteps and the tone of your voice. You'd learned to read him through those subtle indicators, and he had done the same.

Right now, he's content. There's no tension in his shoulders, and his breathing is even. You know he's watching you, his eyes tracking your movements. He looks a lot more relaxed here than he does at work, which isn't surprising. You've seen each other nearly every day since the start of the war, but you've never been able to spend time together like this. You're friends, sure, but you're also attracted to him, and you'd like to think he feels the same.

You've been dancing around each other for months, but neither one is brave enough to say something about it.

You make small talk, talking about nothing and everything while you cook. It's pleasant and comfortable and nice. You can feel his eyes on you as you work. The kitchen is small enough that he can watch you easily without having to leave his seat. You know he's enjoying the show.

“So, what are we having?” he asks.

You can hear the curiosity in his voice and grin.

When he'd made the request, he'd said he was up for anything, but you wanted it to be special. You have a plan, one that you hope he'll like.

You turn around, propping your elbows on the counter and leaning forward. He mirrors your position, and you're so close your noses almost touch.

His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't pull back. You tilt your head. “It’s a surprise.”

And a good one, you hoped. You weren’t sure the last time you put this much effort into a single meal, but if you were going to impress him, you wanted to do it right.

You'd started the process early this morning and had been checking and rechecking your progress throughout the day. You're making a traditional Alderaanian dish, one of your favorites, and one you're pretty confident you can pull off. You're not a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but you know your way around a kitchen and have been told by those who love you that your cooking is exceptional.

You can only hope he'll agree.

Of course, this was a man who preferred to subsist entirely on ration bars and caf, who forgot to eat unless you forced him out of the medbay, but you still found yourself hoping to wow him with your family’s recipes.

When Kix showed up at your door, you could tell that he was nervous. You were too, but you tried not to let it show. You were doing this because you liked him, not to get a reaction out of him, but the anticipation of his response was enough to make your heart flutter in your chest.

He looked more than a little disarmed at the sight of you in your civilian clothes, and the feeling was mutual. You didn't think you'd ever seen him out of armor. When you invited him inside, he pulled out a bouquet of daylilies from behind his back, sheepishly explaining that Jesse insisted he shouldn’t show up empty-handed.

The bouquet he’d given you was beautiful. You didn’t have a vase to put them in, so they were soaking in water in the largest coffee mug you could find with ‘Galaxy’s Best Nurse’ in gaudy red letters on the side. You hoped they wouldn’t wilt before you could find something better to put them in. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought you flowers.

Kix was sweet, sweeter than you ever anticipated from your first meeting. On your first day aboard the Resolute, when Captain Rex first introduced you as the resident nurse aboard the ship, Kix took one long look at you and promptly rolled his eyes.

“She's not gonna last a week.”

Rex had looked ready to throttle him, but you merely gave him a wry grin and told him you were more than capable of doing your job.

He was quick to apologize, though you could tell he was more than a little skeptical, and the two of you had spent the better part of that first month trying to get on the other's good side. The first time he laughed at one of your jokes, it was like the floodgates opened. After that, it was easy, and the two of you quickly fell into an easy friendship.

You came to realize being blunt was just his way, though Kix was never as short with you as he was with his brothers. Jesse said it was because he had a soft spot for you, but you were more inclined to believe he just didn’t want to create a hostile work environment.

That was months ago, and a lot has changed since.

You enjoyed Kix. His dry humor always caught you off guard, even if you were getting used to it. He seemed to enjoy making you laugh. And at the end of a long day, he was always the first to ask if you needed help cleaning up the medbay, always the first to offer to walk you back to your quarters.

You shared plenty of late nights together, sometimes going over patient files or stocking supplies. Other times you simply sat together in the quiet, enjoying each other’s company.

You grew close. It was only natural.

Still, it didn't feel natural to invite him over for a home-cooked meal. You'd never been anything but professional with each other, even in private. You'd never seen him in civvies before and had certainly never imagined that his hair, longer now than you’ve ever seen it, might curl a little in the humidity.

It wasn't fair, really, how much you enjoyed the sight of him.

You had spent the day wondering if this was the right decision. You worried you were reading too much into his request, that you were imagining the interest you thought you saw. But if nothing else, you hoped tonight would provide some insight.

You wanted this to go well.

You didn’t know how much of that was for your sake or his.

You push back from the counter, and Kix makes no move to follow. You turn back to the stove and continue working, a grin pulling at your lips. You don’t think he realizes that you can feel his gaze on you. He doesn't make any attempt to hide his staring.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but there is an undercurrent of something else, a tension you're not sure what to do with. You know that you aren't the only one feeling this way. He'd been nervous when he first arrived, and though he was more at ease now, the tension hadn't dissipated.

It's not an unwelcome feeling. If anything, it's the opposite. You enjoy knowing he's watching you, that you’re having some kind of effect on him. You enjoy having him here, alone. It's a different sort of intimacy, a different kind of closeness. You wonder if it's a step in the right direction.

You're not sure what to expect from him, but whatever it is, you're ready for it.

“How long until dinner is ready, doc? I'm starving over here." You don't have to turn to see him smile. You can hear it in his voice.

"Don't rush me," you scold, and he chuckles. "Dinner isn't ready until it's ready."

"I can't believe you're making me wait. It smells delicious."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," you say, and you glance over your shoulder at him. "I was worried you wouldn't."

Kix raises his eyebrows. "Worried? About what?"

You turn away. "I don't know. I thought maybe you'd be disappointed."

"Why would I be disappointed?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"I don't know." You shrug. "Maybe because we haven't really hung out before, and maybe you didn't want to, and—“

"No," he says, cutting you off. "I like spending time with you. I wanted to come."

You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "Oh."

"Besides, I've been meaning to ask for a while."

"Ask me what?" you ask, looking over at him.

He gives a half-shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching. "To have dinner with you."

Your face grows warm, and your stomach does a flip. You try to focus on the food, but it's difficult when all you can think about is the man behind you.

You hadn't realized just how much you wanted him to say that until he did.

"If it helps, I can promise that you won't regret it," you say, throwing a grin over your shoulder.

He leans his chin on his palm, grinning back. "I'm sure I won't."

You set a pot of water on the stove and turn on the burner.

"What're you doing?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Boiling water."

"For what?"

"Kebroots."

He looks confused. "Aren't we having that stuff you're making now?"

"This is the sauce for the main dish," you say, gesturing with your spoon. It's easy to forget that he's never had a proper home-cooked meal in his life, and the thought of him getting to taste this one is more than a little thrilling. "The kebroots are going in the water."

"Why?"

"Because they need to boil."

He gives you a flat look, and you roll your eyes. "Do you want to know the answer to everything, or do you want to enjoy the surprise?"

"Fine," he says, sitting back. "But don't think you can keep me from learning your secrets."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Is that so?"

He nods, grinning.

"Well, then," you say, smiling down at the pot. "I'll have to make sure you don't."

You're not usually one to play your cards so close to the vest. It's not like you to keep secrets, but there's something fun about the intrigue, something thrilling about keeping him in the dark.

"Can I at least have a hint?" he asks, resting his elbows on the counter.

You turn and prop yourself against the stove. "No. I already told you. It's a surprise."

"Come on, doc. You can't give me something?" he wheedles, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. "Just a little something to tide me over."

"No."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"You're no fun."

"And yet, here you are,” you say with a teasing tilt of your head.

Kix grins, then sighs.

"Fine," he says and pushes back from the counter. "If that's the case, then I'm going to need more beer."

He disappears into the fridge. You don't turn, focusing instead on the task at hand. The sauce is nearly finished, but there are still a few steps left to complete.

You hear him move to your bookshelf, fingers lightly tapping along the spines of your books. You'd been surprised when he mentioned enjoying reading, since most clones you'd met didn't bother with it, preferring instead to watch holodramas or listen to the radio. But Kix liked books, which you were sure he kept to himself for fear of teasing from his brothers. You had a sneaking suspicion he was a romantic.

He stops to pull one out, running his fingers down the spine. "The Time Machine," he reads.

"It was one of my favorites as a kid," you explain. "I'm surprised it survived the trip here."

Kix puts it back in its place. "Have you ever read any of the Corellian Civil War holonovels?"

"No.” You shake your head. “I've never been a fan of war stories."

Kix snorts. "Me neither. There's only so many ways they can tell the same story."

"There's nothing like real-life experience," you say, and you immediately regret it.

"True," Kix agrees and doesn't press the matter. You’re thankful, your heart in your throat, that you hadn’t ruined the moment entirely, but you can’t help but feel a little on edge.

The two had been working together for several months, and though it wasn't uncommon for clone troopers and nat-born people to befriend one another, there was still an underlying tension between you, one that neither of you had the guts to address.

He'd asked you for dinner because he liked you. You accepted because you liked him.

Neither was quite sure what to do next.

The tension between you had grown more pronounced, and though neither of you made any effort to stop it, the unresolved feelings were starting to affect your work. You were both professionals and did your best not to let it interfere, but it was still there, a constant reminder of what was unsaid, a potential opportunity squandered.

Still, if you were going to pursue a relationship with anyone, you were glad it was him.

You had a fondness for him, and it had grown into something deeper. It wasn't just his looks. Though he was definitely the most handsome trooper in the GAR, that was never a primary consideration for you. You’ve spent nearly every waking moment around men who looked almost exactly like him, after all. But it was the differences, the small nuances that made him stand out, that drew your eye.

With the water finally boiling, you turn back to chopping the kebroot. The vegetable is a bit tricky to handle, its tough outer skin resisting the knife's edge. You steady your hand, apply more pressure, and try again.

You’re grateful Kix seems to be distracted by your books, allowing you to focus. If he saw you struggling, he’d probably try to offer help, and you want to do this on your own.

He was right earlier, when he said you didn't need to do all this for him.

You don't.

But you want to.

He's a good man, a hard worker, and you want to show him your appreciation. He deserves someone to take care of him for once.

When you think about it, the whole thing seems silly. You're grown adults, not hormonal teenagers. You can't believe you're making such a big deal out of something so simple.

But it is a big deal, and not just because he's the first man you've found attractive in a long time. It's the fact that you've been dancing around this for months, if not longer, and now you finally have an opportunity to explore the potential between you.

You’ve been trying your best not to picture him here, but with him in the apartment, it was difficult not to imagine. You worked together. You were friends. It was easy for you to forget that, and even easier to let your imagination run wild.

You can see him in the kitchen, helping you chop vegetables, or washing dishes at the sink. You can see him on the couch, his arm draped over the back, his legs spread wide, his head tilted back in a laugh. You can see him in bed, and that's where your mind wanders to the most.

You imagine how it might feel to kiss him, to touch him, to have him touch you. You wonder if he'll be gentle or if he'll be rough. You don't have a preference. You don't care as long as it's him. You want him to hold you. You want to feel him pressed against you, his chest against yours, his mouth against your neck, his hands running up your sides, slipping underneath your shirt—

You hiss out a curse as the knife slips, nicking the fleshy part of your finger. Blood wells up, a stark contrast against the green of the ruica.

"You okay?" Kix asks.

"I'm fine," you answer quickly.

You reach blindly for the towel, wrapping the cloth around the cut, trying to apply pressure. The cut isn’t deep, but it stings like hell.

"What happened?" he asks, appearing at your side.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Let me see," he says, and grabs the wrist of the hand holding the towel.

"It's not bad," you say and are about to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. He guides you to the sink and holds your hand under the tepid water. His eyes flicker from the wound to your face and back again, brows furrowed in a way you know means he’s gone into medic mode.

“Kix, I’m fine,” you huff. You try to withdraw your wrist, but he holds fast.

"Stop moving. You're bleeding all over the counter."

“Sorry,” you say. You can feel your cheeks burning. You should have been more careful.

His hands are warm. The pressure feels good. You can't remember the last time someone touched you like this. You want to pull away, to spare yourself the embarrassment of being this close to him, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he seems determined.

“Where’s your med kit?” he asks, eyes still fixed on your hand.

You tell him where to find it, and he firmly instructs you to keep your hand under the water before he breaks into a jog toward the bathroom.

“Sit,” Kix commands when he returns, his tone no-nonsense.

You can't help but laugh.

He shoots you a glare as he opens the kit and begins removing the supplies. "I'm serious, doc. Sit."

He's so cute when he's bossy.

"Alright," you relent, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He grabs the chair across from you and drags it closer, positioning himself directly across from you.

"Gimme your hand," he orders, and you do as you're told, holding it out for him. He gently peels the towel back and sets it aside. You don't dare look. You're too embarrassed.

“Seriously, you don’t have to,” you assure him, but he just shakes his head and dabs the blood away with a clean corner of the towel.

“Should’ve known you’d be a Code 5,” he says your code word for a difficult patient with a roll of his eyes. He's only half joking.

“It’s a cut, not a stab wound,” you reply indignantly.

Kix shakes his head and reaches for the alcohol wipe. He opens it with his teeth and begins cleaning the area around the wound.

"I know that," he says, his voice softer. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

He looks away to discard the wipe, and when he meets your gaze again, his eyes are filled with warmth and something else.

You don’t know how to respond.

It's a look that speaks volumes.

His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing against your palm. It's not necessary, but he does it anyway.

“Just let me take care of you,” Kix says quietly, his gaze locked on yours. “Please. For my sake.”

“Alright.” You nod, biting your lip once he turns away to grab a bandage. The intensity in his gaze surprises you. It’s different than the look he wears when you’re in the midst of surgery, different from the easy smile he wears when you’re with the men. This is something new, something unexpected.

It feels personal.

He tears the backing off the bandage and presses it gently over the cut. You try to focus on his hands instead of his face. His fingers are rough and calloused, and you how they'd feel against your bare skin.

The thought makes your stomach flutter.

It's not a foreign feeling. You've thought about this before, more times than you care to admit, but this is the first time you've been so close. This is the first time you let him.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your bandaged finger. The action is quick, almost thoughtless, and it catches you off guard. Kix freezes. His lips linger for a moment too long, and his cheeks flush pink.

He pulls back. "Sorry," he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.

"It's okay," you say, smiling shyly.

You're touched by the gesture. It's sweet and considerate, and exactly the sort of thing he'd do. His cheeks are flushed. You can't tell if he's embarrassed or if it's the proximity.

Your hand folds back into your lap. You can still feel the warmth of his lips on your skin. You don't know why the kiss affects you so much. It's not the first time you've been kissed, and it certainly won't be the last, but something about his touch makes your pulse quicken.

"You're sweet," you say, trying to lighten the mood.

He grins, shaking his head. "Don't let that get around."

"My lips are sealed."

He glances down at your mouth, his grin fading. You feel a thrill rush through you, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart starts to beat faster.

"Good," he whispers, his voice low and husky.

You don't move.

You don't want to break the spell.

Kix's eyes search yours, looking for some sign of reciprocation. He's giving you a chance to tell him no, to push him away.

Instead, your hand comes up to cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes across his bottom lip. You feel the breath leave his lungs, feel him lean into your touch. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide.

"Kix?"

"Yeah?" he whispers.

"You should kiss me," you breathe.

Kix rises to his feet, leaning down so that his face is only inches from yours. You take in his features, his warm eyes, the way they're trained on your lips, the way he's watching your every move as if waiting for you to change your mind.

His thumb caresses your cheek, and he waits a breath more before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

You sigh into his touch, bringing your other hand up to grab the back of his head. The kiss is soft, unhurried, a slow slide of lips.

Your tongue slides across his bottom lip, and he groans, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. His hands roam over your shoulders, down your back, over your hips, his fingertips brushing the exposed skin above your waistband.

You part, and you let your forehead rest against his, both of you catching your breath. Eventually, you pull back, swallowing nervously.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I don't know why I did that."

"I do," he replies.

You look up in surprise and find him watching you. His eyes are bright, and he's smiling, a real smile, not the forced one he sometimes uses around others.

"I've wanted to do that since the day we met," he admits, his cheeks reddening slightly. "And I'm not sorry it happened."

"Really?" you ask, trying not to sound too eager.

He nods, the hand on your cheek moving to play with the ends of your hair. "You're beautiful. And smart. And you take no shit, especially from me. What’s not to like?"

You laugh and lean in to kiss him again. He returns the kiss eagerly, his hand resting on your lower back to pull you closer.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he continues between kisses. "I didn't think you would want this."

"Well, I do." You grin. "Very much."

He groans and leans in to capture your lips again, but you stop him with a finger to his lips. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.

"The food's burning."

Kix's eyes go wide, and he rounds the counter in a flash, quickly grabbing the pot off the burner and setting it aside.

"Shit," he curses, and you can't help but laugh at the panicked expression on his face.

"Relax. I'm kidding," you say, and you follow him to wrap your arms around waist. He relaxes into your touch, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.

“Can it be reheated?” he asks, his expression hopeful.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

His hands slide up to cup either side of your face and pull you into another kiss, one you can feel all the way down to your toes. He presses you up against the counter, his body flush against yours.

You whine into his mouth at the feeling of his tongue against yours, your fingers gripping his hair to ground yourself. He tastes like beer and something else, something dark and earthy.

It's delicious, and you can't get enough.

His lips leave yours to trail across your cheek to your neck, peppering kisses along your jaw, his teeth scraping along your pulse.

"We should probably wait until after dinner to do this," you breathe, tilting your head to give him better access.

"I can't," he replies, his voice rough, his hands roaming across your body.

"Me either," you agree, and let him lift you onto the counter. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively, your hands cupping his face as you bring him in for another kiss.

His hands are everywhere, his touch electric, and you want him to touch you everywhere, his hands and his lips, his mouth and his tongue.

Your hands slide underneath his shirt, pushing the material up until he has to withdraw to pull it off over his head. You take in the expanse of his bare torso, the way the muscles ripple under your touch, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest.

"You're gorgeous," you say, your hands coming to rest on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"You are," he says. "And I've wanted this for so long."

He reaches behind you to remove your shirt, leaving you in your bra and pants. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and you want him to touch you, to make you feel good, to ease the ache that's been building inside you since the first time he smiled at you.

He dips his head to kiss you again, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair. Your mouth opens to his, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue against yours. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth, and you moan, pulling him closer.

His lips travel across your jaw, down your neck, along your collarbone. His hands find the clasp of your bra and make quick work of the latch, leaving you bare. You shiver, the cool air hitting your skin, goosebumps breaking out over your skin.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers, and he leans down to take one nipple into his mouth.

"Oh," you gasp, arching your back into him.

He sucks the sensitive bud between his lips, swirling his tongue around the peak, teasing you. He takes the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging and twisting, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

Your head falls back, and you moan his name, your fingers holding tight to his neck, your thighs squeezing his hips.

You can feel the heat of him against you, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your center, and you grind down against him, desperate for friction.

His mouth leaves your breast, and he kisses you, his tongue tangling with yours, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You drag him closer, your hands running over his back, exploring every inch of his warm, firm skin.

His lips trail across your cheek, and you gasp as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck. He pauses to suck a bruise into the sensitive skin where your neck meets your shoulder, his hands massaging your waist.

"What do you want, mesh’la?" he murmurs, his mouth trailing along your collarbone.

"You," you reply, your voice breaking into a moan when he bites down gently on your shoulder, and you can't help but buck your hips.

You can feel him grin against your skin. "You have me."

"Bed," you manage, your hands gripping at his shoulders. "Now."

Kix chuckles, his hands sliding down to cup your ass. He pulls you flush against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you off the counter. Your legs tighten around his waist and you bury your face in his neck to muffle your gasp as he walks you down the short hallway toward your bedroom.

Kix kisses you deeply as he lays you on the bed, hovering above you for a moment before he ducks down to press a kiss to your stomach.

His lips trail lower, dipping just above the waistband of your pants. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his mouth on you, the scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin there. The idea of what he’ll feel like between your thighs has you nodding before he’s even asked the question, his hands hovering on your waist.

Kix’s fingers hook into the waistband, slowly sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. You help him, lifting your hips so he can pull them off. Your panties stick to the slick dampening your center, and Kix lets out a barely concealed moan at the darkened patch there before tearing them away. 

You expect him to discard them over your shoulder with your pants, but he shocks you by giving you a bashful smile and tucking them into his back pocket.

"Really?" you ask, trying to stifle your amusement.

"What?" He gives you a look that's almost innocent, if not for the fact that he's hovering above you, half-naked and fully aroused.

“Nothing. I just didn't expect you to want to keep them."

"Do you mind?" he asks, his expression turning serious.

"Not at all," you say, and watch with rapt attention as his expression turns devious.

"Good. I plan to treasure these," he teases, and he presses a kiss to your bare knee. You shudder at the touch, at the implication behind his words.

"Now where were we?" he murmurs, his voice husky, his eyes dark as he lowers himself to his knees on the floor in front of you.

He grabs the back of your ankles and tugs, and you let out a squeak as you're pulled until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge. It’s a precarious position that’s immediately rectified by Kix arranging your legs so they’re thrown over each of his shoulders, his face level with your exposed center.

The feeling of his breath against your cunt is almost too much to bear, your legs wanting to close instinctually, but he quickly stops you with a firm hand on either thigh.

“Hold still, beautiful,” he commands softly, his eyes fixed on your wet, swollen folds.

“Kix—“

Whatever you meant to say evaporates as soon he darts forward, tongue flattening to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You nearly forget your own name when he parts your lips with one hand to give him better access, zeroing in on your clit without any direction from you. 

His licks start out soft, then steadily increase in pressure until you're nearly grinding on his tongue. The scratch of his stubble against you feels as good as you imagined. He eats you out like he’s starving, with a passion you knew he possessed but never dared to dream he’d apply to you in this way.

He withdraws for a moment to take a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to yours, pupils blown wide. “More?”

You nod frantically, though you aren’t sure what you're agreeing to. Anything to keep his hands and mouth on you. “Please.”

Kix dives back in, lapping up the juices leaking from you before returning back to your clit. Zaps of pleasure jolt up your spine and turn into a burning heat when you feel something nudge your entrance. His finger slips inside with ease, stroking your walls and the fire building inside of you, your eyelids fluttering shut. 

He finds the spongey part deep inside you within seconds, hooking his finger upward to press firmly and drawing a gasp from you. With his target found, he adds another finger and begins to slowly curl them, pushing his hand in and out in a rhythm that has you seeing stars.

His lips close around your clit, suddenly sucking hard, and you gasp.

Your hips jolt off the bed, thighs closing involuntarily around his head, and he groans loudly. Your eyes open abruptly, worrying you've hurt him somehow. 

Instead, you find his eyes closed, brow furrowed in pleasure, and the hand he’d been using to hold you open has retreated. From your vantage point, you can only see his arm moving, and you realize with a moan that he’s languidly palming his cock in time with the thrusting of his fingers.

As if he can sense you watching, Kix opens his eyes. Though his mouth doesn’t let up in its assault on your clit, you can see the smile in his eyes as he stares back. His fingers speed up as he pulls back to speak, punching the air from your lungs and sending you falling back against the bed.

“Can you take three?”

“Ye-es.” You hiccup at the feeling of a third thick finger slowly breaching you, stuffing you fuller than you've ever been able to manage on your own. The coil in your stomach tightens with each push and pull into your wet heat. Every thrust of his fingers sends you higher and higher, your entire body writhing with the force of it.

“Look at you," he groans. "So tight and wet. Taking my fingers so well, like you were made for me."

Your hands come up to fist the sheets at your sides, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter with each word, the way he moans between your legs, the way his eyes flutter closed in bliss as he fucks you with his hand. You can feel yourself approaching your peak, your walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers.

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Yes." You gasp, your thighs starting to shake with the strain.

"Come on," he encourages, taking your clit between his lips and sucking, his tongue flicking rapidly against you. "Let go, beautiful."

Your eyes slam shut, and your orgasm slams into you with a force unlike anything you've felt before. It rips through your body, the heat coiled inside your exploding, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you writhe. You feel yourself nearly come out of your body, tingling pleasure coursing through you in waves. 

Just as you're beginning to wonder if it’ll ever stop, it begins to fade, leaving you panting and sweating as your body collapses against the bed.

“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly. Kix chuckles from the floor, and you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him after you regain control of your limbs. He’s staring back at you, a dreamy smile on his face, the entire lower half dampened with your arousal.

“How was that?” he asks.

“I think you know,” you laugh, breathless. “I thought I was about to suffocate you there for a second.”

“Worth it, trust me.” He sighs wistfully, his eyes a little unfocused. “I don't think I've ever seen anything so hot in my life."

"You're such a charmer," you tease, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair.

"Just telling the truth," he smiles, and presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

Kix helps you lower your trembling legs from his shoulders before glancing down at the hand that was just inside you. He lifts it up to his mouth, sucking his fingers and tasting your release with a thoughtful hum before he moves to stand.

“Just as I thought.”

“What?”

“I knew you’d taste incredible.”

He kisses you, tongue pushing its way inside your mouth to tangle with your own. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue, chasing after him when he pulls away to push his pants off completely. 

You want to keep kissing him, keep feeling his mouth against yours, but you're distracted by the sight of his cock springing free from his small black briefs as he slides them down his strong thighs.

Your mouth drops open in disbelief.

“You’re kidding.”

Kix’s fingers, slick with his spit and the remnants of your release, circle the head of his cock. It’s half-hard from his concentrated efforts on your cunt, but it quickly springs to life under his attention. Even not fully erect, it’s by far the most impressive cock you've ever seen. Thick, a sizable length, and now curving up toward his stomach, you can’t look away.

Saliva begins to pool on your tongue at the thought of having him in your mouth, but before you can lean forward to act on your desires, he’s pushing you back on the bed.

“If I knew all you clones were packing —“

He cuts you off with a bruising kiss.

“Careful, mesh’la.” The Mando’a comes out in a growl as he crowds you against the bed, slotting himself between your legs. His hand slides up your thigh to your breast, pinching a nipple. “I’m not big on sharing.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his mouth descends to follow the path his hand has taken, sucking your other nipple into his mouth. The feeling of his mouth and teeth on your chest makes you moan, your hips bucking against his.

"Kix, please."

He kisses back up your chest and throat to press his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his fingers tremble against you as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance, and your hand comes up to cup his cheek.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes," he admits, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath.

"We don't have to do this," you assure him.

His eyes shoot open. "I want this more than anything."

"Okay," you smile.

He lets out a sigh, his body relaxing above you. "Sorry, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time, and I just don't want to mess it up."

"You won't." Your arms come around to wrap around his neck. "But I'll tell you if I'm not liking something."

He nods, ducking down to kiss you deeply. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, and he groans into your mouth as the head of his cock rubs against your clit.

"Please," you whine as he begins to rock his hips. His cock glides easily through your slick folds, and his lips drop back to your neck. "Inside me, Kix."

"Maker, you're wet." His cock slips back down to your entrance, and you bite your lip as the head begins to breach you.

"That's what happens when you make a girl cum," you quips, moaning as he slowly inches inside of you. You feel every inch of him, the stretch more than you're used to but still deliciously perfect. "Oh, fuck!"

He stops, pulling back to look at you with concern. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?"

"No! No, it's just... " you laugh breathlessly, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. "You're huge. Fuck, Kix."

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you as he continues to push inside of you. The stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt, and it's making your head spin. He feels amazing, thick and hot and throbbing inside of you.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts. "I wish you could see how good you look taking my cock."

Your cunt clenches around him at his words, and he groans. He buries his face in your neck, pressing kisses along your jaw, his breath coming out in hot puffs against your skin.

When he bottoms out, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Stars," you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Kix, you feel amazing."

"So do you," he grits out. "You take my cock so well, mesh'la. Like you were made for me."

You moan at his words, his hips pulling back to thrust shallowly into you. You can't help the whine that escapes you, your legs tightening around his waist to pull him closer. The slow drag of his cock against your walls is almost too much, pleasure bordering on the line between pain.

"Faster," you pants, your nails scratching down his back. "Harder, Kix. I need it."

"Anything you want," he replies, his hips picking up speed.

He kisses you, tongue plunging into your mouth as he begins to snap his hips against yours. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of him filling you, the slick sounds of your cunt and his thrusts echoing throughout the room.

Kix fucks you like it's his last chance, hard and fast and rough, like he's afraid you’ll disappear at any moment, and you can barely do anything but hold on.

He changes the angle of his hips slightly, and your mouth drops open as a strangled cry is torn from your lips. His cock rubs against your sweet spot with each stroke, and his head drops to your chest as his hips slam against yours.

"Stars, mesh’la, you feel incredible," he grunts, pressing his face into your neck. His teeth sink into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, and you let out a strangled gasp.

"Oh, fuck. Don't stop, Kix," you pants, your voice breaking into a sob, your hand tangling in his hair to tug on it. His hips stutter for a moment before he picks up the pace, your entire body jolting with the force of each thrust. He's fucking you so hard, his cock driving into you with enough force that your entire body rocks with the force of it. "Kix, oh kriff."

He withdraws from your neck, his mouth returning to yours. He swallows your moans, hips pumping into your faster as you squeeze around him. The feeling of him stretching you is intoxicating, and you never want it to end. You wonder if it would be too much to ask him to stay inside your forever, his thick cock plugging you up so nothing could slip out. You feel him everywhere, all around you and inside you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way.

"Kix," you whimper, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his neck. Your teeth scrape along his skin, and you revel in the groan that escapes him. His hands tighten on your hips, thumbs pressing against the bones there.

"Mesh’la," he gasps. "Kriff, I'm getting close."

"Me, too."

You can feel the fire burning low in your stomach, your walls fluttering around him. You dig your heels into his ass, encouraging him to go even deeper, and you see stars when he hits the spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

"Right there, Kix!"

He changes angles so he's hitting your g-spot on every thrust, his mouth dropping back to your neck. You can feel the sweat beading on his skin, the way his muscles flex under your hands with every movement. You scratch down his back, hips jerking to meet his, and you know he must be close. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, his breathing heavier.

"Kix, I'm gonna--" you gasp, your hand cupping the back of his neck.

He buries his face in your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin in his reach. The hand on your hip slides between you, and you nearly scream when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb.

"Cum for me, beautiful," he mutters, biting your earlobe.

Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your body seizing up as you cums. White-hot pleasure courses through you, your thighs shaking around him. You can vaguely hear him whispering praise in your ear, but you can't focus on anything except the feeling of his cock still pounding into your as you ride out your high.

"So good, mesh'la. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock. You look so pretty when you cum, you know that?” he babbles with a low groan, hips beginning to stutter. “Fuck, I'm not gonna last."

You manage to regain your bearings after a moment, your body feeling like jelly. Your limbs feel like they weigh a ton, but you're determined. You need to see him lose control, need to see him fall apart because of you. You know he's close, can feel his thrusts becoming more and more uneven.

"Cum for me, Kix," you order. You can't help the smug smirk that overtakes your features as he groans loudly. "I want to see you."

"Mesh'la," he chokes out, hips losing their rhythm as he fucks you.

"Let go, baby." You lean up to nip his jaw, the hand on the back of his neck tangling in his hair. He looks so beautiful above you, eyes screwed shut, a flush coloring his cheeks. His skin is shining with sweat, muscles flexing as he pushes himself further.

"Look at me."

His eyes flutter open, and you nearly cum again. The sight of him, eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging open, is almost enough to tip you over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasps, hips pistoning into your erratically.

"Cum for me," you repeat.

The grip on your hips is almost bruising as he buries himself inside you. His hips jerk once, twice, and then he's gone, moaning loudly as he cums. You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside you, the warm wetness flooding your cunt, and you can't help the whine that escapes you.

"Kriff," he grunts, head dropping down to rest against yours. You stay like that for a moment, both panting, the only sounds in the room the faint hum of the rain outside and your heavy breathing.

You feel boneless, completely and utterly spent. If you were to die right now, you'd die happy. Kix props himself up on his forearms, brushing your sweaty hair from your face with a grin. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile tiredly.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey," he replies. He ducks down to kiss you again, his smile widening. Has he always had dimples? How did you not notice those before? "How are you feeling?"

"Messy,” you laugh. You glance down at the place where your bodies are joined, feeling him twitch inside you.

"Let me take care of that," he says, gently sliding out of you. The sound he makes when he leaves your body is positively sinful, and your thighs clench at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you.

Kix brushes another kiss against your temple before standing from the bed. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he disappears into the refresher, returning a moment later with a damp washcloth. He cleans you up gently, tossing the cloth in the direction of the refresher once he's finished.

"Come here," you murmur, reaching out for him.

He climbs into bed beside you, and you roll onto your side to press yourself against his chest, throwing your leg over his. His arms come around you immediately, holding you close as he peppers kisses on your hair. You snuggle closer, sighing happily as the warmth radiating from him cocoons around you. His hands run over every inch of available skin as if he's committing it to memory.

"I can't believe we waited so long to do that," you mumbled against his chest.

Kix laughs, the vibrations running through his chest and into yours. You're suddenly aware of how bare you both are, how you're pressed together from shoulder to toe. It should be unnerving, but it isn't. You feel safe.

"Me either. We should've been doing that this whole time."

You giggle, your hand running across his side to rest on his ribs. You can feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. "Maybe next time you can fuck me on a med table."

He groans, the hand on your waist moving down to squeeze your ass. "That violates about ten different health codes."

"Fine. The supply closet, then."

"Mesh’la —" The words are a choked moan, and you can’t help but laugh.

"You're cute when you're flustered."

"You're a menace."

You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, smirking. "But you like it.”

"You're right," he chuckles, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. "I do."

You hum happily, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips move slowly against yours before a rumbling sensation under your hand makes them shoot open.

"Was that your stomach?"

Kix blushes and looks away. "Maybe."

You roll your eyes fondly, pushing away from his chest. He whines, trying to pull your back against him.

“You’re hungry,” you laugh.

"I am not," he protests weakly.

You stand from the bed, grinning when his eyes immediately drop to your body. His gaze is so heated that you can't help but flush, and it only burns brighter when you bend over to pick up your pants, and he lets out a low groan.

"Mesh'la, if you keep doing that, I'll never let you leave this bed," he growls.

You bite your lip, your eyes flickering down to the sheet barely covering his growing erection. The sight is mouthwatering, and your mind fills with a thousand different ideas about what you'd like to do with him. But your stomach growls again, and you sigh, walking toward the refresher.

"Where are you going?" he pouts, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You're not the only one who's hungry." You stop at the door, giving him a mischievous smile. "And if you're a good boy, I'll make it worth the wait."

Kix is quiet for a moment before he speaks. "I can wait."

"Good boy."

His responding groan has you grinning from ear to ear as you disappear behind the door, your laughter echoing off the walls.

[fillinforlater]

Fresh, Right from the Source

Male Reader x Kim Jiwon (Jeewon - cignature)

Length: 1614 words

Tags: BDSM, tit play, tied up, blindfolded, tit slapping, lactation, lactation kink, submissive, hardcore face fuck, heavy gags, tears, a bit of brattiness and degradation, drinking milk and cream, jerking off, kinky_girlfriend!Jeewon

TW: lactation, very rough face fuck

Inspiration: the ideas, pics and inspirational links (ahem) send by @worldsover.

Credit: @worldsover for an amazing request!

(A/N: an idol I knew very little about before I got introduced to her. Now, it's hard to over look her and her huge... just take a look, will ya?)

“Shiiit.”

Jeewon loves to drag the ‘i’ in this obscene word. Usually, she lays a lot of emphasis on the ‘t’ as well, but your mouth has her breathless tonight. Jeewon tenses up, her back arching impressively, but the restraints around her wrists securely keep her at the wall. Good job by you, buying this new eyelet to keep the burning red handcuffs up above Jeewon’s disheveled hair. 

Twirl your tongue around the dark nipple to tease her. Take a look up to check if the blindfold is still in its proper place. Your girlfriend bites her lower lip, face sweaty and in constant tremble by the bursts of pain and pleasure you send into her body. What a shame, you wish to hear her moan more. A pinch will do.

“Ah, Sir!”

“Hurts?”

“No, no, not at all. Feels great.”

Lean into her and breathe on her collar. Soft hums and those girly moans of bliss reach your ear. Jeewon has this tendency to pant cutely after you disconnect your fingers from her nipple, so you leave them unoccupied. They stand proudly, so perfectly atop her large melons.

“You look very good tonight, baby,” you whisper at her face and she shudders. “Very full as well.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Jeewon responds shyly, her stretched out feet twitching as you massage down from her thighs, to her calves and soles. It’s not the first night she sits at this wall yet there is still something thrilling for her. Brand new blindfolds rid her of any sight, any way of knowing where your hand, mouth and cock will go next. You feel the excitement in her body every time you lay a hand on her. 

“Your legs shake so much,” you blow on her ear. “It’s like I already fucked your ass. Guess you were right about these blindfolds.”

“Shiiit, ah!”

Slap her tummy. No way she can see these coming and you absolutely love it. Jeewon gets off on not knowing what's next, you get off on doing it and seeing, hearing, feeling her reaction. You have certain things planned and are totally willing to take it slow to watch Jeewon crumble and release every single liquid her body can produce.

You cup her breasts and rub your palms over her sensitive nipples, while kneeling in a way that presses your rigid cock on one of her thighs. Jeewon’s jaw drops before she releases a single, booming moan. Her thighs flex, giving tiny bits of friction to your shaft. Lean close to her sweaty face, breathe in her scent and make her wait for your whisper.

“These bags are about to burst.” Amplify your point by squeezing down with your entire hand. Jeewon giggles.

“Sir, I think you might burst too.”

“Fair point,” you acknowledge and suddenly bite down on her lower lip. “But not before you.”

Change your position. Your balls are right on Jeewon’s chin and you drag them from one end of her wide grin to the other, always making sure to keep the main attraction away from her. Jeewon puckers her lips and tries to secretly stick out her tongue to get some of your taste. Too bad that you immediately notice. Slap her rosy cheeks with your cock.

“I like your eagerness,” you nonchalantly say and drag your tip all over her face, “but you still have to wait a bit longer.”

“Sir, how much lo—”

The moment Jeewon opens her lips to speak, you slide your phallus into her mouth and begin to thrust. With your hands firmly placed on each side of her head, Jeewon’s face becomes a cheap fleshlight used only for a quick, loveless release. It’s not the first time for you to do this, but she certainly did not see this coming. Her gags and gurgles are loud and violent, dangerous, to the point where she might actually—

Pull out and tilt her head to the side. The young girl gasps and coughs, but luckily only saliva comes from her mouth. Remind yourself that her gag reflex is strong and, to your dismay, can fulfill its job. You wait for Jeewon to finish coughing.

“Color?” you ask casually.

“Green, Sir.”

Jeewon tilts her head upwards, not to look at you (after all, the blindfold is still blocking her sight), but to signal that she is ready to take you again—and you give it to her again. Longer, harder, faster strokes into her oral cavity. Jeewon is crying underneath the restraint, her hands show the natural reaction to fight back your rough treatment of her throat. She pulls at the chains, they clatter and rattle, but keep her hands at bay. There is no way to escape your will.

Jeewon fucking loves it.

Your sack firmly slaps her chin, your base is all too familiar with her puckered lips, and your cockhead probes to depths you’ve never felt before. All the training has been worth it. Jeewon can take each of your merciless thrusts like a champ. 

"Great, fucking great," you groan, hands on Jeewon's wrists, hips in an uncontrollable frenzy. “But aren’t you a bit lazy? Use your tongue, Jeewon.”

Apologetic gags mix with the continuous splashing sounds of seemingly endless saliva. Jeewon finally starts to wrap her long, wet muscle around your shaft. She knows exactly where you’re the most sensitive and how you like to feel the texture of her tongue. You slower the face fucking to relish in the well-known pleasure. 

Unshackle the girl from the restraints and let her arms drop to the floor while your cock still remains in her sore mouth. At this point you need to pull out, or she will suck your soul out. With a pop you pull out and watch Jeewon cough and search for air. Strings of her spit and your precum connect the submissive girl to her favorite popsicle. 

“Good job, baby!” you praise Jeewon. A gentle hand pats her head and then moves down to her shoulders.

“Thank you, Sir,” she responds with a smile and reaches for her blindfold to remove it.

“Wait, we’re not done yet,” you interrupt her and suddenly squeeze her tits. “There is still something I need for you. Call it an extra meal.”

Jeewon gives you a beautiful, meekly smile, totally inappropriate for the dirty things you’re doing to her. It’s just the kind of girl she is; pure face, helpful and kind towards everyone, but on the inside she’s a willing, sex craving, kinky whore—it’s a cliche, isn’t it? 

You massage Jeewon’s breasts with every phalanx of your strong fingers, hit them like you would with the keys of a piano. But no matter how expensive a piano may be, it cannot produce a music as amazing as Jeewon’s fucked lips. Needy moans, babbled because her tongue hangs out. Hit the keys harder now and put emphasis on the special black, or in this case pink keys. 

Each time you roll your digit over Jeewon’s nipples she trembles, her knees digging deeper into the mat below. Judging from the way her breasts swell, Jeewon will release her milk in a matter of seconds. Quickly reach for a bowl to place it below her utters. 

“Sir, I—

“Oh, shiiiiit, ah!”

Precise pinches on her nipple, then you squeeze. Jeewon starts to lactate, the milk from her sensitive tits sprays into the bowl and all over the mat-covered floor. You continue to pull and rub the nubs and even more of the white liquid is ejected violently. Jeewon throws her head back, the eyelet not able to withstand her writes and arches. 

“Shiiit, Sir, th-there is so, so much,” she screams when you squeeze out the final droplets. The sight makes your cock twitch, it’s ready to burst and Jeewon, for the first time all night, can see it.

“Do you want some cream with your meal?” you playfully ask Jeewon, the bowl in one hand, your cock in the other. Her teary, scintillating eyes follow the bowl as you sway it right before her eyes.

“Please, Sir,” she begs and crouches further down, “Give me some delicious cream.”

Jerk yourself off like a madman while Jeewon starts to lap up the thin layer of her self-produced milk like a thirsty kitten. In the final moments, you point your tip down and release another white liquid into the bowl and over Jeewon's cheek. She giggles and scoops up the remnants of your misfiring with a finger, before adding it to her milk. A satisfied hum leaves her eagerly drinking mouth.

"Baby, why—" you try to catch your breath while Jeewon tries her best to make it impossible to do so by fluttering her eyes during impossibly hearty moans. "Fuck, why are you so fucking lustful?"

Jeewon puts down the bowl and sits back to the wall, ready to be tied up again, ready to feel the shackles again, ready to show you her devotion.

"Sir, you call me lustful, just because my body is healthy and functioning? Isn't it normal for a woman to produce milk in her breasts?"

She puts her hands over her head, you the chains on them. You gently tug her hair behind her ear before nibbling her lobe. A hand snakes down from her throat, over her enormous tits, down her toned midriff—just to dip your fingers right into her pussy.

"Be honest baby, you produce so much milk, you're basically a cow." 

"Moo~" Jeewon moans into your ear. Make sure to punish her for that. And for the filthy laugh that follows. And for the fact that her pussy sucks three fingers in with ease.

Just punish her, will ya?

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 1 Will Squat for Dinner

Series Master List

Inspo: In an IG reel @ tashabraziliano asks a guy at the gym to play a game where if she squats him he has to buy her dinner at Nando’s.

Rating: M for this one shot, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

A/N: Thank you to @bloviating-vy for being my beta and my write or die! Grateful to everyone who voted in my poll and @katareyoudrilling for encouraging me to post. In the Hold Fast AU all the guys make it back from S. America, additional details TBD if this ends up being a series

Word Count: ~4.0k

Tags: no y/n, gymbff!Benny, alcohol, swearing, reader is a powerlifting girlie described as short, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), alcohol, brief body insecurity and Frankie being down on himself, Tom owns a bar, Pope owns a gym, alternating POV with one brief Benny POV

next chapter >>

The first time you went to train at Pope's Gym, Benny wouldn’t stop talking your ear off during your workout. When you finally got a word in edgewise, you made a bet with him that if you could squat him, he would shut the fuck up and let you finish your workout in peace. To his amazement, not only did you squat him, you repped him 3 times before setting him down to raucous applause. You’d been gym besties ever since. It didn’t hurt that he was nice to look at with his dirty blonde hair and penchant to go sans shirt so he could flaunt his abs as frequently as possible. Plus, his big golden retriever energy never failed to brighten your day.

Benny liked to tease you about the gym you used to go to that had vanity lighting, a smoothie bar, and chilled eucalyptus-scented towels. While Pope's had the most lifting platforms of any gym in town, you were adjusting to the lack of central A/C and other amenities you were used to. Pope’s was housed in a large warehouse space, bare metallic bones, with multiple commercial rolling doors instead of a proper HVAC system. Besides the rows upon rows of platforms, a selection of assault bikes and ergs lined one wall of the gym, while a section of accessory machines collected dust in the corner.

You learned which platforms got the most airflow depending on which rolling door was open and which ones the massive fans covered best. You had made the switch because you had outgrown your old gym which catered to the general public. The bougie public, Benny liked to remind you. You had started lifting heavy and wanted to lift heavier, so you found yourself signing up at Pope's after Pope himself had given you the tour around the space. You learned that Pope had started the gym after coming back from Colombia wanting to promote health and strength in the community while getting into better shape himself. Looking at the peach shape of his ass you could bounce anything off of, you knew Pope had been putting the work in.

Benny worked the front desk at Pope's between training and fighting MMA. His older and blonder brother Will would come by to work out, but he was often leaving when you were arriving so you didn't know him well beyond a friendly wave. Plus, it seemed like Benny used the majority of the word quota between the Miller brothers. Pope's grew on you and you got to know the regulars who trained the same time you did; enough that you gave them cute identifying nicknames in your head (often without knowing their actual names) and worried about them when they missed more than a session or two.

Benny was surprised to see you walk into Pope's one night an hour before closing since you always trained in the mornings. You had given him a short head nod instead of your usual big smile before stalking to a platform and slamming your bag down.

"Yooooo, everything ok?" he asks as he walks over.

"Does it look like I'm okay," you huff, aggressively wrestling your knee sleeves on. Glancing at him, you immediately apologize when he hesitates and takes a step back.

"Sorry, Benny. I'll be a lot better after I pick up some heavy things and put them down."

"Might help if you want to talk about it?" he ventures leaning against the barbell.

You finish tying your squat shoes before looking at him again with dejected eyes and sighing.

"I just went on a crappy date with a guy from one of those dating apps," you sigh again. "He spent the whole time talking about himself and how much he works out. Then he had the fucking audacity to question me when he asked how much I could lift."

"Fucking asshole!" Benny feels himself getting steamed.

"He just stormed out of the restaurant and left me with the bill when I refused to change my answer," you shrug, but Benny sees your jaw tick. "Apparently, I squat and deadlift more than he does and he couldn't date someone who could do that." You roll your eyes and huff.

"WTF! What a total loser. You don't need a guy like that who doesn't appreciate you," Benny replies incensed. He sees your face fall for a moment, eyes downcast and tight.

"I just — I've been trying to put myself out there again and it sucks," you mumble, cheeks flush with embarrassment. "It's also been kinda lonely since I moved here, and I guess I could just use more friends, too."

"I'M YOUR FRIEND!"

"Yeah, my gym friend! We don't do anything outside of this hot, sweaty box Benny," you remind him with a small smile and playful shove to get him off your barbell.

Benny decides this is completely unacceptable and immediately remedies this by inviting you to the next hangout with him and his ex-Delta Force friends at Redfly's, a local bar nearby. "You know Pope and Will already," he reassures, "Tom's the owner of the bar and he's an asshole, but he's our asshole. And there's Catfish — we call him Fish for short. We've been trying to get him to come work out here, but he's been busy with his new pilot job for the hospital. And he shares custody of his 3-year-old daughter with his ex."

He could see your brain turning over all the information he was throwing at you. You don't seem to react either way to the news that Fish has an ex and a daughter. As you adjust the bar height you respond, "You sure? Don't want to crash a regular thing that you have with your guys."

"Nah, it'll be great! They'll love you!" Benny's determined to get you to come.

You hand him your phone. "Well... okay. Text me the details?"

With your phone in hand, Benny puts his number in to text himself and then convinces you to show him your dating profile. Between sets of squats you both take turns swiping on possible matches, Benny teasing you on your picks. Ever observant, Benny notices your preference for profiles with tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed candidates. As you work through your next set, Benny sneaks his phone out and immediately texts Fish.

Redfly's was what you expected for a bar run by an ex-delta force asshole. Dimly lit, buncha mismatched tables and chairs, lots of dark grain wood, and an air of neglect despite being quite clean. It was mostly empty except for a few grizzled guys who screamed regulars, nursing beers at the bar. Lots of beers on tap, but not so much for cocktail options. Not that you were a big drinker anyway. If anything, all the training made you an extremely cheap date. But damn, if you were going to drink, you wanted it to be a solid cocktail.

"THERE SHE IS!" Benny bounds over to you before grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the table in the corner. He introduces you to Tom who was standing by the table chatting with the guys. Tom gives a half-hearted greeting before stalking off back to the bar. Pope gives you a big smile and hug, "Good to see you hermosa, don't mind Tom. That was downright friendly for him." You snort as you settle into your seat next to Pope. Will also greets you with a small wave and an offer to pour you a beer from the pitcher.

"That's okay, I'm not much of a beer drinker." You wince, wrinkling your nose.

"I thought you said she was cool," Pope teases Benny who rolls his eyes and looks at you with faux betrayal.

"How about I buy shots for the table? Would that make me cool?" you smirk, getting up to go to the bar.

"Only if I get one too," says a warm, baritone voice from behind you. A tall, handsome man slides into the last vacant seat across from yours. Soft brown curls threaten to escape the Standard Oil cap nestled on his head. The warmest brown eyes smile at you as he holds your surprised gaze. "Hi, I'm Fish. Sorry, 'm late."

You want to trace the golden skin stretched deliciously along the column of his neck. Run your fingers through those curls that look so, so incredibly soft. And the strong curve of his nose... You snap out of your reverie before you respond with your name. "Better get those shots then," you say, trying not to trip over your unexpectedly shaky legs. Holy shit, why the fuck didn't Benny mention his friend Fish was gorgeous?

When Benny bugged him to come to the Friday night hangout at Redfly’s, Frankie hadn’t given it a second thought. The exuberant text from Benny, “You coming this week right? Got someone from Pope’s coming to meet you guys!!!” had two too many exclamation points for his taste. He figured Benny had a new lifting partner he wanted the guys to meet and his attendance had been pretty spotty between the new EMS pilot gig and balancing shared custody with Vanessa.

So when he walked into Redfly’s and overheard you say “… shots for the table?” He just assumed Tom had finally hired some help in the form of a very cute new waitress.

It wasn’t until he asked the guys when Tom hired you, eyes not leaving your form as you walked away, did he realize the absolute error in his assumption. “That’s my friend from the gym, Fish. SHE’s from Pope’s,” Benny rolled his eyes.

“C’mon hermano, you know Tom’s too cheap to hire help and too much of a pendejo for help to stick around,” Pope added.

Frankie pulled his cap low over his eyes and slid down his seat. He could feel himself flush. Fuck, he thought. Just made an ass out of myself demanding a shot from a total stranger.

You had frozen for a moment after he introduced himself before offering your name with a bit of a grimace. He thought you were gorgeous though and smelled incredible, fresh and citrusy with hints of something sweet and floral that lingered even after you had walked away.

“So, whaddya think, Fish?” Benny prods. "She’s smart, pretty, super strong, and a total sweetheart. Should ask her out."

Frankie flushes a deeper red. “S’outta my league Benny.”

“Aw, c’mon Fish, you gotta get back out there,” Benny persists. "Made it easy for you too. I happen to know you’re exactly her type."

“What, she into out of shape, 40-year-old, divorced, single dads with a toddler?” Fish grumbles. He hadn’t dressed particularly well tonight either, just his usual worn khakis and old faded navy t-shirt. Hadn’t suspected Benny was going to try to set him up tonight, although with Benny you never knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Might’ve mentioned summa that to her. She didn’t even blink, Fish. You got a shot and you should take it.”

Frankie finally tears his eyes away from you. You had just said something that made Tom smile ever so briefly and he wanted to know what you said. Frankie didn’t even realize Tom smiled anymore.

He sees Pope giving Benny that look that said Pope knew Frankie was indeed interested in you, but needed some extra encouragement and to get out of his head. How a single look conveyed all of that spoke to the years and shit they’d all been through together.

“Gonna help her bring over the drinks,” Benny says, popping out of his chair before Frankie could tell him to keep his big mouth shut.

He lifts his cap and runs his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t even tried to comb his fucking hair before coming out tonight. He slides the cap back on hoping it catches the more unruly curls.

“You’re a total catch, Fish,” Pope says, pouring him a beer. “Don’t count yourself out before even shooting your shot.”

“Could just be a coffee date. Don’t overthink it,” Will seconds.

Frankie takes a big pull of his beer. Easy for these two to say. Both Pope and Will worked out regularly at the gym and had the physiques to show for it. As much as Frankie had insisted everyone needed to get back on their game when they got back from Colombia, he was the only one out of the five of them who hadn't.

At least it didn’t feel like it with his achy back and bad knees. Sure, he had finally gotten his pilot’s license reinstated and now shared custody of his daughter. But he was self-conscious of his soft stomach, especially next to Benny whose abs were definitely the example given in the dictionary next to “rock-hard.” What did he have to offer you besides a mountain of baggage and PTSD? Maybe if he just kept his mouth shut everything would be fine and he’d survive tonight without embarrassing himself.

At this point, you are willing to brave Tom the asshole to collect yourself before sitting across from Frankie and his big brown eyes again. Tom raises an eyebrow when you order six shots ("One's for you asshole," you say to Tom with a teasing glare) and ask if he could make an Aviation. You swear he gives you the faintest smile before grumbling about ridiculous froufrou cocktails, but he wasn't born yesterday and yes he could make you one.

Benny sidles up to you at the bar as you wait for Tom to finish making your drink, offering to help you carry the drinks back to the table. "You doing ok? You seem nervous," Benny observes as you tap your fingers on the bar.

"Why didn't you warn me Fish is fucking hot?" you pointedly whisper back.

Benny grins at you as he leans back on his elbows against the bar, "Fucking knew it. Totally thought he'd be your type, girlie."

"You trying to set us up??" you glare at him.

Benny shrugs with exaggerated innocence. "Maaaaybe."

You huff, "Does he know that? Am I even his type?" You cringe inwardly at your insecurity.

"Well considering he hasn't taken his eyes off you since you left the table makes me think you are," Benny smirks. The smug look stays on his face.

For once you're glad you took more than five minutes to put yourself together before walking out the door. You picked a pair of jeans that hugged your curves and a fitted top with a very complementary neckline. Black-heeled booties gave you a few inches and made your legs look longer than they were. Worth the hassle of walking in at least for one night. The lightest dusting of make-up, mostly eyeliner and glossy lip balm, highlights your facial features.

"So maybe I should shoot my shot then, hmm?" you wink at Benny with a knowing smile.

"If you're thinking what I'm thinking…," Benny grins thinking back on the day you two met.

"That's very purple," Fish observes as you and Benny set down the drinks for the table.

"It's an Aviation. You might like it considering you're a pilot, mmh?" you respond with a smile. Okay, you've collected yourself. Sort of. Let's see if you remember how this flirting thing goes.

"What are we taking shots to celebrate?" Pope asks.

"How about to new, strong, friends?" you quip.

"I'll cheers to that!" Benny raises his glass.

Conversation is light and fun with the guys. You marvel at their connection and closeness as they teased and talked like people who have been through some shit together over the years. You convince Fish to try the Aviation to which he declares it a "very fancy purple" and keeps sneaking sips much to your amusement. They fold you into their conversation, asking about your training, and what competitions you might try this season. They praise Pope about how the gym has flourished and rib him about his ever-revolving door of beautiful women.

"What about you, Fish? You thinking about getting back out there and dating?" Benny asks before flicking his eyes over to you. You remind yourself to thank Benny profusely for being the best wingman ever.

"'Dunno. Not sure where to even start," Frankie mumbles into his beer, casting his eyes down.

"I have an idea," you give Frankie your best coy smile.

"Yeah?" he breathes looking up at you. Those damn brown eyes.

"I have a game for you," you offer before taking a breath. “If I squat you, you get to buy me dinner.” Your heart is thrumming in your chest and you feel your cheeks flush, but damnit, you were going to shoot your fucking shot. "But if I can rep you, I want the whole nine yards. Pick me up at my place, flowers, dinner and dessert."

"You — you think you can squat me?" Fish looks a bit surprised, "I— it's, it's not that I don't think you can. But 'm... A lot bigger than you... 'm out of shape." His ears pink at the last part as he cups one hand over the back of his neck.

"I know I can. Do we have a deal?" you smile at him with encouragement and extend your hand across the table. Fish hesitates, but you try not to assume why.

"Jesus, Fish, if you don't take her up on it, I will," Pope winks at you.

Fish glances between you and Pope for a brief moment.

He reaches out and shakes your hand. "Okay, deal." You try not to get distracted by the way his large hand engulfs yours.

"Let's go, brown eyes," you tell him as you stand up from your chair and whip your hair up into a high ponytail.

"You're going to do this in heels?" Fish asks as he gets up from his chair with a grunt. Christ, he's so tall. And broad. You shrug and look up at him through your lashes, “I mean, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels.”

You move so you stand with your side towards his front.

“I'm going to put my hand here,” you gesture to his right inner thigh just above the knee. "Is that okay?"

"Yep."

"Alright, you ready?"

He nods.

You carefully slump him over your shoulders in a fireman's carry, gripping tightly to his upper arm and thigh. You can feel the warmth of his body pressed deliciously across your shoulders. He's so warm.

You brace.

Benny's out of his seat, whooping and hollering. Pope's leaning forward, elbows on his knees, clapping, "Let's go, let's go!" Will's grinning and shaking his head in amusement. The regulars at the bar sneak glances over in your direction.

Frankie catches himself remarking on the particular shade of purple out loud when you return to the table with Benny bearing shots and a suspiciously purple beverage. He realizes after you respond and the dazzling smile you give him that you’re flirting with him. He thinks?? He’s so out of practice. God, he’d do anything for you to smile at him like that again.

When you slide your drink over to him to try he surprises himself by taking a sip. He’s even more surprised that he likes it. Crisp juniper dances across his tongue followed by a delicate floral sweetness and a touch of citrus with a spiced cardamom and anise finish. This very purple drink tastes the way you smell. And the giggle you give him when he calls it a “very fancy purple” blooms warmth through him, settling low in his core. He can only think about how he can elicit that sound from you again.

Which is how he misses Benny asking him if he’s thinking about getting back out there and dating. Fucking Benny and his goddamn big mouth.

But then you’re smiling at him again, telling him, single-dad, divorcee Francisco Morales, you have an idea. He’s looking at you and he can barely breathe as your eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint and your plush, glossy lips propose a game.

For a moment he’s confused. Did you not want to go out to dinner with him? Because if he’s honest, he doesn’t think you could squat him. He’s so much bigger than you. And he’s pretty sure if he tried, he could put you in his pocket. But then you’re brimming with confidence and extending your hand out to strike a deal.

It’s when Pope — fucking Pope — threatens to play your game in his place that Frankie is engulfing your delicate hand in his large one. You surprise him with a firm handshake and it’s then that he can feel the callouses across your palm. Callouses from many, many reps with the barbell.

Frankie finds himself towering over you, realizing you’re about to try and squat him in heeled booties. He vaguely hears you ask for consent to touch his inner thigh just above his knee before he finds himself suspended horizontally in the air across a set of firm shoulders, anchored by two small hands. He can feel when you brace, feel your entire core expand. The muscles across your shoulders and back flex underneath your fitted top. And suddenly he’s moving up and down, steadily with control.

You end up squatting Fish five times before setting him back down gently with a breathless giggle. He's towering over you again and you just want to press yourself into his broad chest and envelope yourself in the smell of his body wash.

"Dinner?" you smirk up at him.

"Wow, yeah, dinner on me," Fish flushes, impressed and a little dazed.

"It's a date then," you quip, poking him in the rib before you sit back down at the table. You notice his brown eyes spark with realization at your comment.

Will, Benny, and Pope all high-five you. Cheeks still pink, Fish pulls his chair around to sit closer to you. Tom wanders back over to the table grumbling that Redfly's isn't that kind of establishment with theatrics like you just pulled. But he also sets down an Aviation along with another pitcher of beer before returning to the bar.

"He's just jealous you didn't try to squat him," Benny laughs. You giggle in response as the conversation around the table picks back up.

Feeling Fish's gaze on you, you slide your cocktail over to him. A frisson of electricity shoots up your entire arm when his fingers brush against yours as he takes your cocktail glass.

You tilt your head towards him, your eyes meeting his warm brown ones, and whisper, "By the way, my favorite flowers are dahlias."

Frankie lost count by the time you repped him the third time. Just awed by you having the strength to carry him like this. He decides to just enjoy the rest of the ride.

When you set him back upright he almost melts into a puddle at the breathless giggle you let out. He catalogs that sound in his mind. He wants to brush back the hairs that have escaped your ponytail and he already misses your touch, wants to close the space between your bodies somehow without being creepy.

He gets lost in your eyes when you gaze up at him, he’s definitely over a head taller than you, and ask, “Dinner?”

Frankie is pretty sure he responds in the affirmative, still a bit dazed and very impressed.

It’s when you confirm it’s a date that his brain fritzes, reboots, and takes a minute to come back online. He blinks several times at the realization. He has a date. With you.

next chapter>>

Notes: Dahlias symbolize elegance, creativity, positivity, and growth. It also represents inner strength, likely due to the plant's ability to tolerate harsh conditions.

"Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels.” — Ann Richards

🙏🏽 Thank you so much for reading my first fic! I'm bad at tumblr and new to tags/warnings/fan fics in general, so if I missed something please let me know.

I am open to constructive feedback but please be gentle with this baby powerlifting writer, yeah? I might be able to squat you, but I'm a big ol' softie.

Aaand I'm thinking about expanding on these characters and making Hold Fast into a series if anyone would want to read it. I may or may not already have a Frankie POV at Pope's Gym where he gets to see reader in her element. 👀

Taglist: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held

[shivstar]

Marauders era

Most content nowadays states canon complement when the main ship in the fic is Wolfstar or Jegulus. I mean JKR was not playing hide and seek with the readers in her work. If canon really had those pairing at any point of time then we would have learned right along with the main protagonist and narrator.

So you can of course indulge yourself and say they dated, only Harry didn't know because he is oblivious and the author herself is stupid for stating the hug was nothing but brotherly. But that is your prerogative.

But proper tagging should not be too much to ask. And I am not even asking for myself as i would rather stay miles away from those two ships in particular but atleast do it for the people who are new to fandom.

Imagine someone who randomly came upon fics like these and got really excited about Harry Potter. Imagine their shock on finding that no Regulus was nothing to James Potter. Or Sirius Black wasn't some girly drama queen cry baby who has one brain cells. Or the biggest of the shock--- they will read all Hp books twice but never find this macho man Remus Lupin.

How much betrayed and cheated will they feel.

And it is not surprising that many such cases are there who want to read the original text after stumbling from some very famous fics like ATYD...

[toomuchracket]

You reblogged an older photo of Matty a day or two ago and tagged it as birthday party and I was thinking about the first day they spent any significant time together.

From the lore blurbs we know that the rest of the friend group went on an ill advised bike ride while y'all were drinking your fill of wonderful French wine. However, I think it's fun to think about how girlie and Matty got there in the first place. The initial awkwardness when you realize it's only you and Matty who declined the bike riding. Stilted conversation when you both are trying to find a neutral place to be/figure each other out (e.g., hotel lobby, room, balcony.) Then there is some commotion outside, and y'all go down to investigate and its some sort of celebration that not only provides a common point of discussion, but an experience to be shared. The night ends at the restaurant, opening up to each other from a bit too much wine. And we know what happens next 😉

this is so it!! while you like and respect (and fancy, let's be real) each other from the moment you meet, there isn't a closeness there at all, really, so it IS a little bit awkward at first. even deciding to hang out together and not go off to do your own thing is kinda strange, initially, because neither of you wants to overstep the mark even if you secretly would love nothing more than to get the other all to yourself; like you said, though, the commotion outside the hotel helps, because you go outside together to investigate and end up having a laugh and just wandering off together, chats instigated by the things you see on the walk and ending up as deep discussions where you reveal a lot about yourself to the other. matty suggests stopping for a drink when you pass the wine bar, you share a bottle (or two) of red, and spend the rest of the day people-watching (two writers doing this? you're making up interior lives for everyone, i fear) and opening up about yourselves and making plans to visit shakespeare and co. together the following day - he brings it up first, all starry-eyed and excited, because he's still in his Beat lit phase lmfao, and that is the EXACT moment you develop a crush on him. matty's crush on you develops in the bookshop the next day, actually; you really come alive in there, surrounded by words and history and people and lives lived, and he falls asleep that night dreaming of you looking at him the way you look through the books by the people you love. it might take another seven-ish years (officially - in reality it was a lot earlier), but of course you do. it's a good day, that second hangout, one he thinks about a lot when you go back together as a couple for one of your events - he remembers you saying on that first trip that that was a dream of yours, and to go back as a proper couple with the engagement ring burning a hole in his pocket is really, really special. ngl writing this made me very emotional. i love them <3

[good4olivia]

modern!aegon in love with aemond's girl part 2

warnings: uhh this one ain't for the aemond girlies lol, creepy aegon again but not as bad lol, slight nsfw, that's all i can think of, maybe the first one was better idk

Aegon had no reason to be upstairs, after he moved back in after dropping out of college he was living in the basement. But you were upstairs. All the fucking time, the Targaryen mansion was obviously much nicer than your shitty studio apartment. 

He had no reason to be upstairs but he was, sitting in one of the spare rooms. Like a creep cause he knew you were in the shower. Even better, he knew Aemond was downstairs talking with his mother so you were alone. He could picture you naked and wet, not having to filter his brother out from those images. 

The spare room was perfect as when he peered out it, he could see you leave the bathroom but you didn’t notice him. All too soon, you were closing the door on Aemond’s room to change. He fisted his cock at the thoughts of you, as he did all the time. Each time proved more frustrating as all he wanted you and his hand was never going to be enough. 

Sure, Aemond knew his brother had feelings for you. He just didn’t thought maybe it was a crush, one that would blow over. 

It wasn’t till Christmas he realised how wrong he was. Christmas with the Targaryens was well, basically like probably how the Kardashians would do it. Just over the top everything. You always loved Christmas but it was simple with your family. Christmas with Aemond was like out of a movie. 

It took 3 hours just to do the gift exchange cause of how many there were. Of course, you had gotten Halena and Alicent a few little things, and they got you some cute little presents too. 

You got Aegon a nice hydro flask because you hated his plastic water bottle habit. He laughed when he read the note, ‘now you don’t have an excuse anymore lol’. Alicent couldn’t believe her eyes, her son was laughing, a proper laugh that reached his eyes. 

It was fine, until you opened your gift from Aegon. Aemond would’ve been fine if Aegon had gotten you a gift card or something but that’s not what Aegon did. He got you a necklace. A beautiful necklace with a a small dragon figurine. “I know how much you love dragons and I saw, I just knew it would look beautiful on you. May I?” Aegon said, walking over to where you were siting with Aemond. 

You thanked him graciously for the gift, exclaiming it was too much but Aegon brushed you off and fastened the chain around you neck. You couldn’t help the shiver that erupted as his hands lingered on your neck. It felt like a such a private moment that everyone in the room was well, basically that monkey side eye meme. 

Side note: Aemond got your AirPods Maxs for Christmas. Sorry just had to mention that cause I would love to be spoiled by rich boy Aemond. 

After the gifts were done, Aemond dragged Aegon into a private space. “What the fuck was that?” 

“What?” 

“You got my girlfriend a very expensive necklace. That’s not a gift you get your brothers girlfriend, you know that right?” 

“She’s not just your girlfriend to me, she’s my friend.” 

“Then get her a fucking gift card!” 

“She deserves more than that. The necklace looks so pretty on her.” Aegon got so dreamy eyed when he said, Aemond was just like that tiktok sound “bitch wtf” 

“Are you in love with her?” 

“So what if I am? She’s beautiful, smart, funny. And she listens to me, and makes me feel like I could do anything I wanted too.” 

“She’s my girl, Aegon.” 

“Well I can’t just take the necklace back.” 

“No, but you’re not gonna see her anymore.” 

Aemond tried to get you stop hanging out with Aegon as much, whenever you mentioned plans with him, he’d tag along or insist you cancel. It was pissing Aegon the fuck off, if he couldn’t have you the way he wanted why couldn’t he at least be in your life? In his eyes, Aemond should be thanking him that he hasn’t tried to kiss you, hasn’t tried to confess his feelings for you. 

Alicent had grown aware between the growing tension between the two brothers (more so than usual.) It didn’t take her long to figure out what was going on. She tried to talk to Aegon, encourage him to move on. Find another girl. Aegon dismissed the idea initially. Until he found a girl that looked close enough to you. Same hair, colour eyes. Sure, she didn’t laugh the same or make him feel the way you do but she’ll do. For now. 

You were very happy that Aegon had a new girlfriend, you became quick friends with her and often invited her when you went out with Halena. This made Aegon more annoyed, if you friends with his girlfriend you’d have even more reservations to be with him. If only you knew he had to bite his lip to keep from calling out your name when he was fucking his girlfriend. 

It was his four months with this girl when he heard you and Aemond were ‘on a break’ whatever the fuck that means, Aegon didn’t care. He raced over to your apartment. 

“Aegon? What are you doing here?” 

“I… I heard about you and Aemond. Wanted to see if you were okay.” He rocked nervously back and forth on his ankles. 

“Oh. Yeah, come in.” You let him through, asked him if he wanted anything and when he declined  you sat on the lounge with him. “I don’t know, Aemond and I have been together for over a year and we basically spent every day together so I suggested he move in here. He just freaked out, said he had to focus on school. Said he’s not moving out till he’s done school and is working for your father, I told him hey that’s okay I was just asking. But then he went on about space and time apart and bullshit  like that so.” 

Aegon couldn’t believe his luck, “He’s a fucking idiot.” 

You laughed at that, “Yeah maybe he is. Just sucks though cause he said that this isn’t forever but what? Am I supposed to just fucking wait for him?” 

“No.” This was it. Aegon could kiss you, he was going to kiss you. Then he was going to fuck you, then you’d be his. And when Aemond finally realised how much he messed up, it was going to be too late. You were already his. Just when he was going to lean in, his phone went off. 

“Do you have to get that?” 

Aegon looked down at the messages pouring in from his girlfriend, shit he was supposed to meet her at the movies now. He turned the phone on silent and slipped it back in his pocket, “No, there’s no where else I have to be but right here.” He moved some loose hair of yours behind your ear, caressing the side of your face afterwards. “You’re so beautiful.” 

You could sense what was about to happen, you started leaning in as he did. Your lips were so soft, it was everything Aegon had dreamed it would be. When you broke apart, you whispered his name. You meant it was a warning that you couldn’t go further but Aegon was too gone to take it as anything more than an invitation, he moved his lips back on yours, pushing you down on your back, kissing your neck, hands roaming all over your body. He moaned in your mouth when his hands found all your curves. 

“Aegon.” You tried to push him off you but again he just saw this as you touching his chest. “Aegon, we have to stop. Please.” You managed to sit up right again and straighten out your clothes. 

Aegon took a deep breath, “What’s the problem?” 

“I don’t know whats going on with Aemond and I and you have a girlfriend!” 

“Listen to me, [name.] I’ve been in love with you for so long now and I’ve had to watch you with my brother and he- he doesn’t deserve you. If he did, he wouldn’t have let you go. He doesn’t want you.” He paused and cupped your face with one of his hands, “I want you. I’ll always want you.” 

You leaned into his touch, finally letting yourself feel for Aegon what you’ve kept bottled up all these times. He started kissing you again and you let him. “Go and put on the necklace I gave you beautiful.” He wanted the necklace to hang off your back the first time he took you - and every other time after that. 

Aegon knew he could die a happy man now that he finally knew what it was like to be inside of you, to hold you. He had no idea how his brother could ever give it up but that wasn’t his problem anymore, he had you. 

You told Aegon that Aemond couldn’t know about you two. At first it annoyed Aegon, he wanted to show you off. He wanted to see his brother face when he walked in with you hand in hand. 

But he found it much more fun to be in a secret relationship, he would say he was out with the guys and he loved that he could tell Aemond had his suspicions but couldn’t know for sure. 

You never took off the necklace now, before with Aemond you only wore it when he wasn’t around. It always put him in a sour mood but it made Aegon so proud when you wore it around your neck.

Alicent couldn’t place the sudden change in her eldest son’s attitude. The excessive weed smoking she pretended she hadn’t noticed has gone down, Aegon had gotten a full time job at a warehouse. No, he wasn’t going back to college but at least he wasn’t spending his days playing video games in the basements. If only she knew it was all because he wanted to be a better man for you. 

tags : @polireader @caramelcandescence

[mikaelsrose]

The Lover's Caress

Pairing: Tyril x f!human!MC (Reyna) Book: Blades of Light and Shadow 2, chapter 2 Word count: 1940 Rating: M Warnings: emotional hurt, marked sexual content within the fic Category: angst A/n: this is for the girlies who needed to see Tyril bawl his eyes out at the sight of MC Tag list: @lxdy-starfury @starlight-starfury @watatsumi-island @sophie-summer @brycesgirl @lilyoffandoms @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

The clock tower showed just four minutes after four in the morning as Tyril and Reyna reached her chamber and unwillingly unlaced their hands.

"I hope you will stay? I can't open a portal for you to go back to Undermount," Reyna started as her fingers nimbly worked with the matches to light the candles on the night stands. Despite the sun already rising, dark rain clouds obstructed the light, plunging the city in gloomy darkness. "Not that I'd want to, anyway."

"I intend to watch over you constantly lest you were to disappear again."

“Nonsense, you need to rest. When was the last time you got a proper night’s rest?”

Tyril shrugged his shoulders indiscernibly. Just as Reyna was about to scold him for not taking care of himself, the match burned her fingers.

“Blast!”

"Allow me," he uttered lowly before catching her wrist and bringing the burned fingers to his lips. Having whispered a short spell, Tyril touched the sore area and a wave of soothing coolness hugged the wound. Under his scrutinizing gaze, Reyna was suddenly overcome with shyness and lowered her gaze. 

"I knew having a skilled mage by my side would come in handy," she joked. “Thank you. We should probably get some rest. May I?” 

Reyna’s fingers quickly undid the intricate fastening of Tyril’s clothes and as he stood in front of her in nothing but his undergarments, her brows knitted.

“That’s new,” she noticed, touching a purplish scar on the plane of his chest. 

“A close encounter with a succubus.”

Reyna quirked an eyebrow. “Succubus? The seductive she-devil succubus?”

“She was said to be in possession of a long-lost spell book, I had hoped that perhaps she would help me open a portal.”

“And how exactly did you play to convince her?”

“With threats.”

"That's why you ended up with a wound on your chest? What did she strike you with, a hacksaw?" 

Tyril sighed quietly upon realizing that it was not jealousy speaking through his beloved but worry. "I underestimated the risk."

"Just like you did with the fluria? And this?” she pointed to a cut just above his hip. “It's also fresh."

"A basilisk. They're rumoured to have the ability to cross realms."

"And you attacked it alone," he nodded. "You were trying to get hurt, weren't you?"

While Tyril desperately searched for the right words, Reyna took a moment to study his face in the warm candlelight. There were visible dark spots under his eyes, his cheekbones and jawline seemed a bit sharper, indicating a weight loss, and as her eyes slid lower, she also noticed how much more defined his muscles had become. He must have been hunting for a while, many more creatures than he would ever admit to her.

"I was trying to be punished."

“Tyril—”

“Reyna, you don’t understand. You were gone for a year. They took you from right under my nose, and I did nothing to stop them. You were gone for a year and I never even got a single promising lead. I am sorry I couldn't do more to help you," he whispered, dropping his gaze to her cheek, which he stroked with a thumb. "Please forgive me—"

"You need to forgive yourself, Tyril," she interrupted, her hand cupping his cheek. "It was you who gave me the strength to fight, the thought of never seeing your face again helped me get off my knees and run even though my whole body burned with pain. So thank you."

His eyes glistened and she continued.

"I think I heard you, when I was still weak and befuddled."

Tyril felt his heart skip a beat. "Perhaps Gods heard my prayers after all."

"You prayed for me?"

"Of course," he assured immediately, and a tear rolled down his cheek. "I was utterly desperate, submerged in books I held onto the faintest hope, I begged scholars and mages for help, but nobody even dared to hope. It was Adrina who suggested I should reconnect with the Gods. On my knees, I prayed for forgiveness and pleaded for help for months."

Reyna bit her lip, emotions too overwhelming to allow even the quietest words to leave her mouth without breaking into a million pieces. However, seeing how Tyril allowed his grief and loneliness to leave his body in the waves of tears, her own dam broke and soon only the quiet sniffling of two entwined lovers could be heard. 

"Gods, I have missed you so much," the elf mumbled into her hair before pressing his lips to her temple, long and hard, and shut his eyes tightly, afraid she'd disappear if he opened them, just as had happened several times. "The thought of never seeing you again, never holding your hand, was driving me mad. I have grieved while still hoping, still searching for a way to bring you back, but I hit a damn wall every time. I— I have been truly awful to my family this year, Reyna, because all that mattered was getting to you as fast as possible—" 

Tyril's voice suddenly broke and Reyna, as if finally understanding the full scope of the effects her absence had on her partner, felt her heart break. Her hand soothingly caressed the back of his head, while her tears pooled in the crook of his neck. 

"I was afraid I'd lost you to the Shadows as well," he whispered. "And I was ready to lose myself just to get you back."

“If it’s any consolation, it only felt like a couple of days for me,” Reyna uttered quietly once they both calmed down. Tyril’s embrace loosened slightly, and he pulled back just enough to see her face. 

“That’s good. I’d hate for you to feel so lonely and helpless in the Shadow Realm for a year.”

The couple timidly smiled at each other, and once Reyna’s fingers wiped the remaining evidence of anguish off his face, Tyril suggested lying down.

As if nothing ever happened, Tyril took his place on the right side of the mattress while Reyna straddled him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. Just like they did the night before everything changed.

In complete silence only interrupted by regular pattering of the rain against the window, they listened to each other's breaths, caressing each other’s skin and kissing every now and again. Reyna smiled as his thumb began drawing small circles on her bare thigh. She took in the sight in front of her, still afraid that if she blinked, he'd disappear. The mere suggestion of waking up in Valax’s laboratory again sent an uncomfortable wave of shivers down her back.

"You look so beautiful like this," she whispered, her hands journeying across his chiselled stomach and chest, marvelling at the smoothness of his pale skin. Under her fingers, she felt his pounding heart and quickened breath, and she only smiled wider. In the early morning sun, Tyril's noble features softened, making him look like the young, exhausted man he was.

"I suppose happiness looks good on everybody."

"Nobody wears it like you do, Lord Starfury," she whispered against his lips before capturing them in a soft kiss, and within seconds she welcomed his tongue on her lower lip. 

Deftly sliding the strap of her bra off her shoulder, Tyril kissed her collarbone, first on the right side, then repeated the action on the left, soon unclasping the garment and letting it fall to the floor. 

“At long last,” he hummed in between the sloppy kisses. Reyna smiled blissfully.

Before long, the last pieces of clothing fell to the ground and Reyna, still straddling half-sitting Tyril slowly lowered herself onto him with a quiet moan.

"I have yearned to hear you make that sound again," he gasped, one of his hands tightening on Reyna's hip while the other caressed her back, pulling her closer. 

Contrary to her mind, her body felt their prolonged separation. Each touch would send a wave of shivers through her body, each bounce of her thighs pulling out soft moans from her throat. Soon they found their rhythm and the room reverberated with a blend of the couple's whimpers and ragged breaths.

As the urge to be in control for the first time in months grew, Tyril switched their position and rolled on top of Reyna, who, afraid to let him go, wrapped her legs around his waist. His lips then focused on Reyna's neck, leaving love bite after love bite in their wake, earning him a pull at his hair and increasingly louder moans.

"Please, don't ever leave me again," he huffed, pleadingly. Feeling her climax approaching, he kissed her again, sucking on her lower lip long enough to leave a tiny red bruise as his hand blindly searched for hers to lock their fingers together.  

Groaning, Reyna clenched her fingers around Tyril’s, leaving half moon marks over his knuckles. She looked at him from under her lashes—the image of her partner, flushed, sweaty, whimpering proved to be the final straw that sent her over the edge. Following suit, the elf hid his face in the crook of Reyna’s neck, his hips still lazily moving.

“I’ll always fight my way back to you, Tyril.”

The wind outside picked up, howling mournfully through the city lanes and alleyways. Blissfully spent, the couple cuddled under the duvet.

“I’ve heard you and Kade got to know each other better in my absence,” Reyna mumbled sleepily, resting her head on Tyril’s shoulder. The elf hummed. “I’m glad.”

“Bonding with your brother was the only good thing to happen this past year.”

“Has he told you all the embarrassing stories?”

Tyril smirked at the memory. “A few.”

"Rest assured that I will have my revenge."

"You already know my most humiliating story, bringing shame upon my House is impossible to top."

"Personally, I believe stepping on your date's dress and causing her to fall into mud at her own Ancestral Masquerade is much more embarrassing," she chuckled while Tyril's eyes widened in shock. 

"How do you know about it?"

"Your sister is an excellent conversationalist, did you know that?" 

Tyril shook his head disapprovingly. “Tarnishing the reputation of House Starfury like that.”

“I like your new hairstyle, it really shows off your pretty face,” she complimented and raised her head to check whether she’d get the reaction she hoped for from him. Shortly, a dark purple blush flowered on his cheeks.

“I— Ahem, I’m glad it’s to your liking,” he stuttered. 

“I’m also impressed by your musculature, you really put in some work when I was away,” she teased, making Tyril chuckle, still visibly embarrassed. “Oh, how I missed those dimples!”

“Please stop,” the elf pleaded, snaking an arm around Reyna’s bare stomach as she leant over and kissed his dimples, then the tip of his nose, chin, and finally his lips. Their kiss was interrupted by a loud thunder that made Reyna jump away, scared. She nervously looked around the room, expecting the worst, but everything was exactly the same. 

She felt Tyril’s palm cupping her cheek, and she unwillingly stopped scanning the room to look at his face. 

“You’re safe, Reyna. It’s alright, you’re safe. I’m with you.”

She nodded absent-mindedly. It took her a moment to shake off the images of Ashen soldiers, and she blinked repeatedly when the initial panic subsided. Tyril was looking at her worriedly, gently stroking her cheek, and Reyna focused on the way the candlelight glistened in his baby blue eyes.

“You’re safe.”

“I know. You’re with me.”

Tyril nodded and pressed his lips to her temple. “I’m with you.” 

[bonnvivre]

a funny thing- ch 24/25 word dump

WUAHAHAHA 4AM BABEY YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS

i’ve been cookin low and slow with this one and i mean real slow like. too slow . as in 2 weeks later whoops

this one’s a real doozy so grab a snack

FIRST PAGE ON THE GOSUKU TAG WHEN YOU SORT BY KUDOS LETS GOOOOOOO major rweiser W

———————————————

ch 24

thinking abt yuuji flying down the sidewalk and megumi becoming the equivalent of a flag whipping behind him pls yuuji not everyone can keep up 😭

fred says fuck

mmmmmm crunchy cookies i love me some egg shell

yeah with cooking, you can play around with the measurements and adjust along the way, but baking is whole different beast :[ i made creme brulee for our new year dinner, my first time baking actually, and i was terrified the entire process cus one wrong step and its over (they turned out good in the end, though i wanted to leave it in the fridge longer) 

sukuna and uraume on the same wavelength love that

daww megumi just be a kid its okay 

gojo’s nicknames for toji PLS father-fushi and fraidy-guro

hehehe he technically called sukuna pretty ,, i agree

LMAOOOOO AINT NO WAYY OFC HE SABOTAGED HIM 

i feel like toji would actually do well in getting sales (if he had the proper cookies) considering he’s “a pro at freeloading off women” which leads me to believe he’s got hella charisma . 

“Fushiguro stops just before the table, one hand balled into a fist so tight, the muscles of his arm are easy to see, flexing dangerously beneath his skin.” uwwheheheerhfbud sorry

OH SHT THE GIRLIES ARE FIGHTING YOOOOOOOO AND SUKUNA JUMPING IN FOR GOJO ???? in front of the kids in a school fundraiser is crazy lmao

pinky

gojo taking bets on who’s gonna win reminded me of mei mei betting on the gojo-sukuna fight

i had a crazy amount of secondhand embarrassment going thru that hhhhhh yknow that feeling when you just wanna curl up and cover ur eyes and you’re fighting to even look back ? yeaaaaa

“Hurting people is bad. And you’re not bad!” ohh yuuji ughhh he has no idea of what sukuna was before, that he’s done more than hurt people .. children really only see the side of their parents that they’ve allowed to show them. it’s why kids usually think the highest of them, so yuuji saying that sukuna’s not bad gets me cus he’s known and seen only the best of him. but it makes me feel gooey inside cus, while everyone else sees the former king of curses, yuuji sees his dad and when he does eventually find out, he’ll still always be his dad before anything else (does this make sense i hope it makes sense im trying to make my thoughts coherent)

oh hey they’re talking abt it !

I GASPED OH MY GOD PLEAS EOLASOE APLEAS EPLAS EPALEAPSLEAPSH NOOOOOOOOO FFGGHGBBVV HITTING MY BED GRFGHJVNGRRAAGGHHFEG

im being tortured i thinj you’re trying to kill me here this is the worst case of edging ive ever had in my life (no not like that) 

post-chapter notes:

IM ALREAYD RIOTING YASTOP BLUE BALLING ME

id read real housewives of jujutsu sorcery

————————————

ch 25

GRADE 1 ?? AS IN ONE ?? AS IN  O N E  ?? AS IN, YUUJI IS NO LONGER A PRESCHOOLER

when you said small time-skip, i thought you meant a few months later . i was wrong

aight time to update the time board: yuuji’s in first grade so he’s 6 yrs old, we’re in 2013 now (i think), gojo is 24 yrs old  23 yrs old (chap takes place during summer, bday not passed yet)

it’s 2013, he can get a 3ds now :D im gonna get him on smash bros . OR KID ICARUS UPRISING IT SHOULD BE OUT ALREADY

they should totally name the potential pet after me (jk)

OKAYYYY THATS A START HE KISSED HIM ON THE HEAD !! WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE :O now go lower. preferably on the li

oh yeah yeah definitely not together whatever helps you sleep at night man

im gonna need the bad bitches birthday bash one-shot someday with the way shoko’s bringing it up

the fact gojo’s heard the threat so many times before that he can finish it and brush it off

CANDY CRUSH  !!?!??

AWWWWWW THATS ADORABLE ;____; sukuna wanting to do something to surprise gojo’s first day as a teacher and yuuji suggesting to make a cake cus he knows his daddy loves sweets AND they spent the whole day prepping awawawawaw so cutee

they called on uraume for help too LOL poor them 

yuuji being a snitch HA i can’t help but think of my siblings

you can’t be serious gojo, not after that? people also don’t usually sleep and cuddle the homies cmon man

mother is mothering and mother is leading the herd (no but i love how he adapted to the role very easily, likely to prior experience)

whuh the fundraiser was last year ? am i overthinking the timeframe … ok im back after going thru the calendar that makes sense 👍 carry on wait hold on first semester of first grade ended so they’re on break ... summer break ?? unless this is going off of a different schooling system (oh yeah duh japan lol)

ohhh please let them meet mama-guro i can imagine the absolute shock on their faces trying to comprehend how someone like toji managed to marry someone like her 😭 bonus points if toji is much more softer around her too and the sheer whiplash of seeing him having ANY sort of loving side is enough to send gosuku into a spiral

“It’s exactly the type of thing Sukuna would never be caught dead wearing, which means Satoru must do all in his near-infinite power to make him wear it.” real

THESE THREE ARE RIDICULOUS LMAOOOOOO sorry kids your fathers are busy trying to one-up each other

“But, then again, these are just go-karts; how much damage could he really do?” famous last words before disaster

oh no

hey sukuna’s living life at least he’s having fun and that’s all that matters 🥰

not the pyramid projectiles

CONICAL AMMO !?$&7)-)26 MARIO KART IRL GONE WRONG oh my god its too late for this i need to sleep

OH MY GOD ?????? 

WHADDYA MEAN THEY’RE GONE ??????

post chap notes:

what just happened

no really what jusr happened

the amount of times i’ve said oh my god throughout the entire go-kart scene i was clutching my pearls

he recreates his reign in the silliest ways, all while wearing nice little red bow :3

nah i get it the entire first arc was dedicated to how messed up he was abt suguru so i understand the doubts but they’ve also near kissed multiple times .. unless they were super down with kissing the homies 

“I sure hope nothing bad has happened to them...” STOP

[ma-lark-ey]

I feel like challenging GOD so in my first ever read of Harry Potter I will be listing all of my headcanons in one big master post and sending it into the void space of tumblr thank you goodbye. I have no concept over which of these are hottakes, which of these are widely accepted, and which of them are just me being batshit crazy because as I write this I have never once looked at the Harry Potter fandom proper and my only knowledge of it is My Immortal and the fact that TikTok thinks Harry's dad and Sirius' little brother should makeout. 1. Ron Weasley is autistic.

2. Neville Longbottom is half-Korean on his mother's side, and also probably wears goofy little frog overalls.

3. Ron is tall, Harry is Short

4. Harry's scar is smattered across his face like a lightning storm and not just one little bolt, that's pussy shit. Make that shit dramatic

5. Ron and Luna probably had a fling at one point. Autism for autism

6. No way this isn't fanon, but Luna Lovegood is autistic.

7. Ginny Weasley is the HOTTEST bitch in Hogwarts and she is AWARE.

8. In Goblet of Fire the entire little Ron and Harry arc happening there was that they had a summer fling and then broke up when Ron had his little pissboy arc and they were both babies about it and then went back to having their regularly scheduled bromance thank you goodnight

9. Harry is actually dating a new person each book, no matter how short-lived it is. Why? Comedy. It's FUNNY.

10. I think Harry and Ginny have a shotgun wedding at like, nineteen.

11. All I know is that in my brief dive into AO3 (re: I looked up this exact tag out of morbid curiosity of it was A Thing), Sirius/Snape were apparently one of the smallest ships with like only 2k fics which is wild to me, because that enemies to lovers??? Thought bitches would eat that shit up. I don't ship it, but it still was wild.

12. Sirius and Remus are in love. (post mortum: I have now dived just slightly in the fic of Harry Potter and realize this is widely accepted fanon.)

13. Hermione wears fun frilly dresses outside of school and actually really loves dressing up and being girly fuck this 'not like other girls' agenda going on with her. Put her in a pretty dress and let her frolic in a field with flowers.

14. Luna is a seer. She goes on to teach divination

15. I was gonna say something about in my little noggin Ginny raised her and Harry's kid as a single mom or whatever and it's a fic I'm gonna work on and also his name is Remus Weasley and he's a Slytherin but APPARENTLY that's just the entire plot of the Cursed Child as my HP special interest having bestie informed me. I just added in a Gryffindor pretty boy for my Slytherin Potter boy to make out with when JKR was too much of a coward to make him gay.

16. RON SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN HUFFLEPUFF.

17. Cedric Diggory lived a very long and happy life and had a lovely spouse - guy who got really attached to this dorky little dude, knowing full well how he died.

18. It takes Harry at LEAST two marriages to women to realize he's gay. The egg takes a very long time to crack.

19. Ron is straight. He's just. He's got such bi wife energy.

20. Ginny Weasley is a raging bisexual, and so are the twins, and so is Bill. And Charlie? I know in my soul that's a nonbinary.

21. Luna Lovegood? NOT a lesbian, sorry lesbians. I'm claiming her for the aromantics. That's right. She belongs to us.

22. Fleur Delacour was a lesbian. LESBIAN.

23. Harry and Dudley reconnect in their like, thirties/forties and actually become good friends I think.

24. Harry often does diy piercings in the bathrooms during fifth and sixth year, Luna helps.

25. Fred and Lee Jordan are boyfriends god bless.

26. Out of spite for JKR, here's a list of trans woman in Harry Potter according to ME: Ginny Weasley, McGonagall, Hermione, Luna, Lily Potter (her and James are t4t), Tonks (that bitch is nonbinary transfemme),

27. I will live, breathe, and die by my personal headcannon that Tonks and Remus are comphet and in a lavender marriage but they lovingly coparent their child together and regularly at parties Tonks goes "where's my husband? Oh, he's making out with his boyfriend okay cool." and moves on.

28. Draco Malfoy's patronus is that white ferret Moody Crouch turned him into in book four.

29. In my perfect world James Potter is alive and I love him most than anything, I'm holding him like a wet cat. i literally bought three stag plushes over the month I was reading this series just because I couldn't stop thinking about him.

30. I am ignoring the implications in the epilogue that Harry did not raise Teddy Lupin, because he did, actually. That was the last promise he made to his beloved Remus Lupin and if Deathly Hallows taught us anything it's that Harry Potter keeps a fucking promise <<3

31. Molly and Arthur heavily assisted Harry in his 'I'm gonna raise this god damn orphan to good y'all won't know what hit him. I'm gonna be such a good dad.'

32. I am literally IGNORING all these implications of the Cursed Child. Draco Malfoy is also a banger dad. i think he goes to counseling and sorts out his issues and tries very hard to not put such high expectations on his own kids. I think he tries very hard to undo the damage Lucius did to him, and the bad choices he made in trying to make his parents proud of him. I think he makes sure his kids know better than anything else, that all he wants for them is joy. He wants them to be good, happy people.

33. Just Lovers - Zerrazapriel says that Sirius' patronus is Moony and that's so fucking real and true of that fucking fic and I live by that now.

34. On a similar note, Molly and Arthur have matching patronus'

35. Fuck this 'hermione minister of magic' nonsense that girl is a leftist and would never join politics did jkr forget her own fucking canon of harry and hermione doing their absolute best to fuck the government over for the last half of the series? whatever the fuck. HERMIONE TEACHES CHARMS AT HOGWARTS.

36. I'm sorry I got so heated on that last one. I had thoughts. Anyways, Draco also goes on to become head of Slytherin and teaches DADA.

37. I was so anti-Draco for the entire first five books and then the last two books Happened and so now I'm just holding him so close to my chest. He needs therapy. And i think it takes him until their mid-twenties or so, but I think he does make amends with Harry and the crew and actively tries to come back from the actions of his youth, and obviously the Golden Trio and co are sympathetic because Harry himself in the books clearly could recognize Draco was acting on the instruction of his trusted adults, trusting they knew better than him.

38. this is not a headcanon but the wandlore of Draco having a unicorn hair in his wand and the unicorn hair wizards being the most difficult to turn evil and his wand ultimately being the one to defeat voldemort is sooooooo. He's such a product of grooming and I think about him. I want to study him.

39. YOU KNOW WHAT. what if I said harry trans woman who unpacks her gender after the war is over and has time to contemplate who she is as a person and her and Draco become a very cute and in love little couple in their early thirties??? what then???? (does this fic exist and if it does give me links)

40. I think the funniest mental image ever is if Harry just shows up to a party or whatever with everyone when they're like, 26 with Draco fucking Malfoy in his arm and is like "this is my boyfriend" with no further explanation or nothing and half of the group is like "no yeah this is an expected development" and the other half is like "THE BITCHBOY????" and yeah.

I will most definitely have more Harry Potter thoughts as time goes on but this is all I'll put into the world. Good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight.

[alligaytorswamp]

Bursting into the room: Please tell me about your idol OCs!! What music do they do? What fashion styles? Who are your favorites? Do they have any fun interactions? Do you have more art of them?

auauauAAUUGHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU FOR THISSS

AHSJKDHASD idk how to talk about them !! in a normal way !! so ahhhh let me just try giving basic info about each group or smth

edit: this is so fucking LONG LMAOOO.... here is a link to all their TH (andromeda isn't done sorry), if u wish to skip my mad man blabbing altogether B)

Andromeda

my first idol ocs group, naturally was a llsif fan group love them with my entire heart despite the fact that i make content with them like once ten years, they live in my head all the damn time there are 9 of them, canonically they are the only ones who have the privilege of being "very fucking popular and successful" went from being school idols (SparkleS) with pretty typical cute/energetic concept, then debuted fr (Andromeda) and now their concept is more mature/elegant/cool

uhhh they are just wonderful girls who are all best friends and they are very cute and different and silleyyyyy and i am a horrible father bc i didn't make their TH profiles yet (THERE IS 9 OF THEM IT'S SO HARD) so here is their tag instead... ignore very old art tho 😔 also i have spotify playlist with songs i imagine they either would have or would cover - here

(also in my mind their concept/main vibe of their music kind of ever-changing, to me, they can do whatever they want at this point bc they are just so popular lol + they have units and such and i can get away with it) (they are overpowered yes yes)

Ishin-Denshin

5 members here,, they are my girl boy group or boy girl group <3 don't know how to explain it's just they are bg but the music inspo/concept is strictly what my fav girl groups i listen to got going on

total boys next door, just chill sweet guys, good vibes only fun fact all got like trauma/issues (tm) because i am certified sad boys maker, but they are all doing well and go to therapy LMAO

like Andromeda they all met in high school and started idol club together, but unlike the girlies they didn't mean to be proper idols, sorta got scouted later on anyways they are also besties, very tight-knit (trauma bonded?) and i also love them dearly they got their TH profiles, with bits of main lore and some info on their friendships - here their spotify playlist - eek

GRIMM parade

ah my funny crazy little theatre kids and vocaloid stans literally a combo of 3 quirky bitches who really love acting and dark dramatic stories

i think the most basic way to describe their vibes would be like Halloween + fairy tales? They are very extra and have like odd ways of speaking/interacting with people, but it's their charm (as per usual, very much full of brain issues, bc i gotta make my boys even a little sad)

their TH - here their spotify - here (way less songs bc it's stupidly hard to find smth i like for them)

cheer4U

literally fresh out of the oven i have nothing for themm asjkdhakdsda i gotta share tho: they are a co-ed group, and from what i have seen in life most groups give rap parts to men, but here it's boys being vocalists and girls being rappers(+vocalists), and idk how to explain but it is very fun to me, girls got all the swaggg

also a fun fact: one dude (michi) is hisoka's (andromeda) younger brother and one girlie (olly) is elijah's (pothos) younger sister

pothos

now that i mentioned them, even tho this is just about my idols i have to talk about everybody even a little pothos is a dance crew, so they are 4 dudes who make choreographies and despite my pattern of making best friends, these 4 are NOT asdjkhakjdhaskl, more like it’s 3 dudes who are friends with elijah but aren't close amongst each other

their TH - here

anison singers

just these two random soloists, with their own quirks they are dating LOL their TH - here

Urban Legends

my rock band heheeee they are just cool and awesome girlies, who make music about scary myths and folk stories their TH - here

__

re: fashion styles it either matches their concept, or if we are talking individually - it depends on each ocs LMAO re: my favorites andromeda are the blueprint, so they receive special treatment, but currently i am also crazy about Ishin-Denshin AND dince cheer4U are newborns i am focusing on establishing their personalities lol

re: do they have any fun interactions?

ok so idol groups all know each other for sure, pothos prolly interacted with them as well, but way less and more formal, soloists and urband legends def had only minor interactions IF they had those.

generally speaking, everyone in the company treat Andromeda like seniors/girlbosses (because they are) while cheer4U are now the youngest and newest group they are kinda babies to everyone Andromeda doesn't have very close relations to anyone (being popular doesn't help here), but they are considered like a proper sister group to Ishin-Denshin, due to some matching concept elements and being the 'foundation' of the company Andromeda and Ishin-Denshin def had their little collabs, specifically vocal-based, since both group got mad vocalists also important to point out that Ishin-Denshin are huge fans of Andromeda, like every single one of them loves them, they def have been following Andromeda since their school idol days and they are still not over the fact that they ended up in the same company

Ishin-Denshin and GRIMM parade are a bit closer, i think because they are the same age, and because Ryunosuke insisted they should be rivals LOL it didn't happen tho, because Ishin-Denshin are just sweeties, and were like "no thank you <3", so Ryunosuke settled on Ishin-Denshin being their supporters or smth anyways, they def hang out somewhat regularly, ofc each of GRIMM parade members is close to different Ishin-Denshin members i think main proper friendships i have are: Ryunosuke and Tadao (leaders and basically dads of their group... lowkey considering making them a couple ahaha...) Shouhei and Nobu+Kyo, Shouhei and Nobu are just besties who hang out a bunch, but two of them with Kyo had like a whole event of helping Shouhei deal with a nasty break up he had (Nobu had a shitty relationship too, while Kyo.. well... it's in his TH profile B) the point is Kyo and Nobu just helped Shouhei process things) Rokuro and Kyo - just hype boys who hype together

here is a fun meme you should laugh it's very funny (i have no one to share this with)

i don't think i have any other ~full group~ relations so here's random canon connections i remember tsubaki (urban legends) is a fangirl of andromeda and specifically their triplers unit, def stans hana, mieko and shiori ryunosuke (grimm parade) and kaede (urban legends) totally get along due to their 'dramatic freak' agenda, witnessing them talking to each other has to be an Experience, because they 100% use most extra phrases and words LMAO elijah (pothos) is a huge fanboy of grimm parade and ryunosuke specifically kyo (ishindenshin), rokuro (grimm parade) and elijah (pothos) are also like 3 energetic funky boys who love dancing kyo, tadao (ishindenshin), axe, elijah (pothos), michi (cheer4U), hana (andromeda) and shinobu (urban legends) all love working out so i imagine they end up together in the gym every now and then also totally exlusive info, but im gonna couple up ichigo (cheer4U) and kyo (ishindenshin), as well as michi (cheer4U) and shouhei (grimm parade) B)

FUNNY THING... THIS IS LIKE NO INFORMATION AT ALL AHAHA.. TIP OF THE ICEBERG... I HAVE SO SO SO MUCH ABOUT EVERY SINGLE INDIVIDUAL OC, LIKE THE STUFF THAT I DIDN'T HAVE SPACE/DESIRE TO WRITE ABOUT IN THEIR TH PROFILES... AUGH

[wavesinlowtide]

9 Fandom Friends to get to Know Better

Got tagged by the lovely @clowncroccharms, thank you so much ❤️

3 Ships I love:

1. PromNont from Playboyy the series

What a ship, what a series. Unhinged at its very best.

2. Izaki Shun / Tokaji Yuuji from Crows Zero and Crows Zero 2

I foam at the mouth. Not them in the gif but from the movie none the less. Haven't seen Crows Zero? No time like today to right that wrong!

3. Sumeragi Subaru / Sakurazuka Seishiro from Tokyo Babylon and X/1999

I was always a CLAMP girlie. This was me 20 years ago, okay?

First ship ever:

Probably Louis / Lestat from the Vampire Chronicles but, like, also over twenty years ago way before the series. Nothing wrong with the series, I'm just old (= in my thirties).

Last song I listened to:

I love Kagrra,.

Favorite Childhood Book:

I read SO MUCH as a kid that it's almost impossible to pick a favorite, but I did really love the Brambly Hedge books by Jill Barklem.

Currently Reading:

A collection of short stories (Palm-of-the-hand Stories) by Yasunari Kawabata.

Currently Watching:

The Bear. I haven't watched any American shows in such a long time, but I used to watch Shameless and wanted to see Jeremy Allen White in action again.

Currently Consuming:

Just music I guess?

Currently Craving:

Proper Springtime.

I'm tagging @haahka @kennyomegasweave and @scarefox

Would love to hear the answers from you guys if you have the time for it!

[vimesbootstheory]

L S V (for the fanfic ask game)

thanks for sending this! aw jeez I took my time answering huh?

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

About four? Generally the chapter has been sitting at least a month before proper edits start. First time through is easy fixes + highlighting weaker parts of the chapter, second time through I go through those highlights and make larger-scale edits for things like pacing, replacing boring scenes, adding through lines that started later on in the drafting process, changing the tone of a section, etc. Third time through is a grammar/typo check with an automated tool. And then I read through it one last time the night before posting to catch anything I missed last minute.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

I'm a big hurt/comfort girlie, for one. it's what I beeline to in any fandom ever. I love any kind of like... reveal? like in merlin fandom, love a magic reveal. I have a pet fondness for danny phantom fic, love an identity reveal there. or any kind of reveal of some important backstory -- like the gaang finding out how zuko got his scar in atla fic, or to bring it back to ck, the younger generation hearing about what happened after the '84 tournament.

I also love love love the trope where characters are on last name terms and then some vital shift happens in their dynamic and they start using first names, or at least use first names in the heat of the moment. could read a thousand fics about johnny finally switching to calling daniel by his first name.

and temporary character death! I will read through a whole temporary character death tag on ao3 on entering a new fandom.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

these hypotheticals always trip me up because if I actually wanted to do it, I would just do it. also, a lot of my favourite fics are longfics, and the double-edged sword of longfics is that they often go longer than they really need to already.

Hm. I once read a charming lil Johnny/Lyle fic that I'd love to see have a sequel, whether or not it was by me. can't remember the name. Possibly I just want to read more Johnny/Lyle. Possibly this is connected to how much I'm bumming hard over the state of lawrusso in s6.

Thanks again for asking! <3

[whatwewrotepodcast]

Echoing voices tag game

Tagged by @agirlandherquill!

rules: count the number of main characters in your wip, then use a random number generator to find a page, pick a line and rewrite it from the voice of one of your other characters - repeat this for the number of characters you have!

4 MCs in PPiS

Generated number: 65

Original line by Onyx: “Here, have a drink before you puke on my floor, ay?”

ReWrite by Theo: No dialogue, just hands over the bottle wordlessly.

Generated number: 641

Original line by Theo: “Right. So I should just, go and stand in the middle of a crowd and look awkward, shall I?”

ReWrite by Onyx: "Oh ay, so you'll be irresistibly attracted to me if I go stand somewhere and look awkward, like?"

Generated number: 707

Original line by Pan: “Come on, I’ve finally got a friend to come out dancing with me. And go shopping with. And talk shit about confusing guys with,”

ReWrite by Onyx: "Ay, I mean, for the first time ever, I got someone proper to hang out with. Do . . . ay well, not girly things per se, but you know . . . girly things.

Generated number: 151

Original line by Onyx: “Do you not own any other clothes, like?”

ReWrite by Ellis: "Is that what you're wearing, darling? I'm not sure it's what I would go with . . . or is it the only option?"

Tagging @jackiezenauthor @leahnardo-da-veggie @cherish-writes