#it's all sunshine now but all these piece are set up to start moving

[ariadne-mouse]

re: Cleo & the Granddaughter - personally I'm only idly interested in the shipping angle at the moment (though the seeds are there and the show can certainly convince me) but what I do find intriguing about it is, whether romance or friendship, there is a fraught future already baked in. The Granddaughter is on a very specific personal journey to become a Mother, to gain incredible amounts of knowledge about the Cosmos in an eyeblink and live a life of detached service; even if there was a possibility of some romance remaining after that (give us the Mothers cultural lore, Third Person-), the Granddaughter would be irrevocably changed as a person. If they do catch feelings for Cleo, they will have to grapple with the choice of leaving that behind upon Realization. Who knows, maybe a friendship/romance and the trials within will be what precipitates Realization itself. Meanwhile Cleo would be in a position to grapple with falling for someone who is essentially marrying a life of service, and watch them change. Or, even more fraught, if the Granddaughter's journey/Realization are compromised by their connection, that is a whole new can of interpersonal consequence worms. So I am very excited by all that.

[honeyedmiller]

Sweet Thing | Joel Miller

pairing: jackson!joel x sunshine!f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: jackson!joel, smut (unprotected piv), sweet pet names, sex in a semi-public spot, sort of getting caught, no specified ages mentioned. no use of y/n.

word count: 863

synopsis: the most unlikely pair in jackson just can’t get enough of each other.

divider by @saradika-graphics

“J-Joel,” You whimper, gripping onto his impossibly huge biceps. The fabric of his flannel felt scratchy underneath your desperate touch, and the scrape of the wiry hair on his jaw set your skin on fire.

His teeth nipped at your ear as the heavy drag of his cock came to a nearly unbearable halt; the deep timbre of his voice, even when it’d dwindled down to a mere whisper, sent shivers down your spine.

“Gotta be quiet, sweet thing. Can’t have anyone catchin’ us now, can we?” You bite your lip as he starts to move his hips again, slowly thrusting into you once more.

The squelching sound was so obscene that if your moans and whines didn’t give you away, your arousal would.

It was ironic that you two had found solace in each other. Jackson’s token ray of sunshine and the ever brooding Joel Miller: the most unlikely match there was. It was never meant to happen, but it just… did.

Being around Joel was easy. The man had such a soft spot for you. You’d been nothing but kind and gentle with him when everyone else was afraid. You carried a sparkle in your eye every time you laid your eyes on him, and that’s when he knew. He knew he had to have you.

If the residents of Jackson found out the both of you had been sneaking around the past few months, they’d all lose their minds. There’s no way they’d be able to puzzle together the pieces of your so-called ‘relationship’ with him, but you suspected at least Ellie had a hunch. The girl was smart and had been onto you two for as long as this had gone on.

You couldn’t help yourself, though. Being with a man that only reserved his soft side for you and his fortuitous daughter had you falling faster than you could keep up with, and at first, it truly terrified you.

You succumbed to his pure charm and good looks, though, which is how you ended up here—fucking in a broom closet in the Tipsy Bison because you chose to wear the pretty dress you found on patrol one day that Joel loved oh so much.

The slow drag of his heavy cock had you muffedly crying out his name, the feeling of it too much and not enough all at once. The man was all-consuming, invading every single sense that you had. It was intoxicating and purely addictive, and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him.

“Fuck, baby. Pussy was fuck’n made for me. Y’feel so goddamn good.” Joel’s words are slightly slurred behind his clenched teeth, trying to control his own sounds of pure bliss.

“Joel—” You cry again as he picks up his pace, and he has to cover your mouth with his hand because you cannot control yourself. He made you feel good in a way that nobody else ever has.

“I know baby, I know. Hush up now n’ take what I’m givin’ ya like the good girl I know y’are.” He coos, kissing your temple as he begins to thrust into you skillfully, tilting his body up so his cock hits your g-spot every single time.

Your eyebrows threaded together as your legs started to shake, your impending orgasm licking a flame up your spine as it threatened to spill over. Just like a match to a matchbox, Joel kept dragging and dragging and dragging until you lit aflame. The devastatingly delicious euphoria that ran through your body was truly unmatched as you convulsed around him, cries now muffled by his lips on yours.

His thrusts became sporadic, pulling out of you before grabbing a rag from a shelf to come onto. Not his finest moment, but he didn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours or leave any evidence of your intimate endeavors.

Joel cages you in between his arms as his hands rest on either side of your head against the wall behind you. He buries his face in your neck, catching his breath as he leaves tiny pecks along your pulse point. You mindlessly wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, gently dragging your fingertips against his hot skin while he took some time to recollect himself.

You giggle softly into his ear, kissing his neck once.

“That was fun.” You say, and Joel’s face moves to be in front of yours again. A rare smile curls onto his lips as he rests his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose against your own.

“My sweet girl.” He whispers with a chuckle laced into his words, kissing you once more before tucking his cock back into his jeans. He bends down to pull your panties back up and pulls your dress down past your hips, straightening you out so you don’t look completely fucked out.

Joel turns the knob to the closet, opening the door slowly.

“We gotta stop doing that in public places though, or else we’ll get caught.” You huff.

“Too late.” Tommy’s voice snaps both of your heads in his direction, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as Joel’s burns bright red.

Shit.

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @amanitacowboy

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I can't thank you guys enough for reading my writing. I'm looking forward to your thoughts on this part <3

Summary: You were saved but you still have so many questions. Trying to sort everything out might be harder than it seems.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Talks of torture, self hatred, angst, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"I've healed her as much as I can. Now she needs rest." you heard Madja speak

Darkness.

"I failed her, Rhys" you heard Cassian cry softly

Darkness.

"Thank you for saving her" you heard Feyre gently speak

Darkness.

"I forgot about her, then let Elain convince me to stay for longer. Let her convince me that y/n would be ok waiting a little bit longer for me." Azriel yelled

Well, that explains why he didn't show up.

"She's awake" Rhys stated

Both of the Illyrian males hurried over to you.

"Hey sunshine, how are you feeling" Your High Lord and good friend smiled softly down at you

"I'm fine" you whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming you had been doing

Rhys hesitated, clearly knowing you were not fine. He didn't want to push you but he couldn't leave you alone after everything that just happened.

"Cassian told me most of what happened but there are certain parts he can't fill in. I don't want you to have to relive it but it might help us figure out why you were their target" he spoke so softly, as if speaking too loud would break you

Once he asked to see, it all hit you. The questions about Nyx, so many questions about him, you started to panic. Tears filled your eyes. He needed to know, he needed to understand that you didn't tell your torturers anything. You started hyperventilating, panicking, you had to let him know you were strong enough to withstand the pain.

"Rhys I promise I never broke. I never told them anything. No matter how much they hurt me, I swear. They asked so many times but I never broke, I swear I promise I was strong-" your sobs cut you off and Rhys bent down and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Shh I know. You did so well, please don't worry about any of that" he spoke into your neck, his own tears now pouring down his face.

You couldn't control yourself. Still terrified of saying, doing the wrong thing. You were shaking and crying hysterically. You knew they needed to see what you were tortured over so you sent the thought out hoping Rhys would understand what you were doing. He knew immediately, standing up and giving you a small nod.

You showed him everything, still shaking and crying. Azriel reached out for you and you let him. You needed anything, anyone to anchor you. He wrapped his arms around you and you cried in his chest.

Azriel looked at Rhys and saw the pained look on his face as the scene was happening in his head. Once he saw it all, he ran out of the room muttering something about a sleep tonic. The shadowsinger held you even tighter as if he could put all the pieces of you back together.

"I'm so sorry, you needed me and I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, so so sorry...." He kept repeating. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, to help take away the guilt he was feeling but all you could think about was Cass repeating that same thing in the dungeon.

Just like that, the terror built up inside you. Your mind tricking you into thinking you were back in the chains being tortured. You started kicking and screaming, Azriel holding you down so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

"Rhys, you got that sleep tonic? Anytime now!" He shouted hoping his friend was coming

Moments later, Rhys winnowed in the room with Madja. Once she assessed the situation, she looked grim.

"Sleep tonics will not work, this is too severe. Move, boy." Madja spoke, pushing the spymaster away and setting her hands on you.

You started to settle and slowly fell asleep.

"This won't last long. I can only fix the physical pain or symptoms. Her mind tricked her body into thinking she was being tortured again. I eased that pain but it will take a lot more to ease the pain inside her," the healer looked at them with sorrow, "I'm sorry but this is as much as I can do for her."

Azriel immediately sat in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand with both of his. Rhys patted him on the back and left to try and figure more out.

You slept for 2 straight days, with Az never leaving your side. He couldn't believe he let this happen. You were his best friend, and more than that he had always been in love with you. After everything with Mor, he couldn't risk getting hurt again or losing you so he pushed his feelings away. It was the most painful thing he had done and once Elain came along he thought it would be easier to keep himself wrapped up in her.

He deeply regretted that now. You would hate him now. He forgot about you, left you there alone. He wouldn't be surprised if you never spoke to him again.

Lucien slowly entered the room, "How is she?" he asked Azriel

"Not great but she'll get there... thank you," his voice broke, "I haven't gotten a chance to tell you yet, thank you for saving her"

Lucien nodded at the male, a solemn look upon his face, "She didn't deserve any of this. I knew you and Elain had been spending time together and it pissed me off. She's my mate, but I knew she wanted you and not me, so I suffered in silence because I thought I deserved it..." he paused, "Y/n has always been kind to me. Accepted me the moment she saw me with Feyre. Offered her company when she knew Elain was away with you so I wouldn't have to be alone. She did not deserve any of this. She did not deserve to be pushed aside and forgotten."

Azriel stared at him, stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it not knowing what to say, opened it again, "...I-"

"Do not hurt her again." Lucien stated, cutting him off and walked out of the room with one last look at you.

His shadows swirled around him, covering his neck to comfort him. They had been all over you for the most part. Wrapped around your arms and legs or nuzzled in your hair. After a while they whispered to him, she's waking up.

Your eyes slowly opened and the male at your side quickly stood to grab you some water. He helped you sit up in the bed against the wall and you both sat in silence for a while. You could tell he hadn't been sleeping, the bags under his eyes were the worst they had ever been.

"Sunshine" Az said, and it made you flinch.

You felt like your soul was the darkest its ever been. You weren't sunshine, you were storms and pain. You felt disgusted with yourself, hated yourself for being caught so easily. For allowing Cassian to be taken and have to witness everything. You hated yourself for causing everyone so much trouble and pain. You wished you died in that dungeon.

Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre all walked in. Feyre had a kind, hesitant smile, Rhys looked relieved that you were awake and not freaking out, and Cassian wouldn't even look at you. You assumed he was probably upset with you for dragging him into this and getting him tortured.

"Do you know why they picked me?" you asked quickly, so you wouldn't have to keep seeing their sad looks

"We're still not entirely sure. We know they were trying to find out things about Nyx but they could have taken any one of us for that." Feyre stated

"Maybe they thought I was the weakest and easiest to get answers out of?" you guessed.

"No, it felt very personal towards you y/n. It was like he hated you, don't get me wrong, he enjoyed beating me up but he was ecstatic to hurt you" Cassian spoke, still avoiding eye contact

"How did Lucien even find us?" you asked

"All he said was that Eris sent him a location and told him he needed to get there right away but that no one could see him there. Once he got there, he heard your screams and ran to save you. We've been trying to contact Eris but he hasn't responded." Rhys spoke

"I'm going to find whoever did this, and I'm going to slowly tear them to shreds" Azriel growled softly, still holding your hand.

"I don't understand what I did wrong-" you voice wavered and there it was. The look everyone was giving you made you feel sick. They knew you were broken now, you couldn't hide it anymore. You coughed to try and cover up the weakness in your voice.

"But we'll figure it out and I'll be ok. We'll all be ok. Now, I'm starving so I would love to join you guys for a meal tonight." You tried to smile at them. You needed them to think you were fine, that you were strong. They didn't need a weak link in their group. The last thing you wanted to do was eat but you figured that might convince them you were all good.

The four of them stared at you as if you grew a third eye on your head.

"Maybe you should take it easy, I can bring some food to you" Azriel suggested.

"Yeah that would be easier" the rest of them agreed.

"C'mon guys seriously, I'm fine. Give me a couple minutes to get dressed and I'll head down. I can try to help figure out what this is all about before we eat." you said weakly

"No. You are staying up here and resting. If you are hungry, one of us will get you food." Rhys commanded in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

"Is that an order from my High Lord or an order from my boss" you asked harshly

"It's an order from your friend." he softly stated, "let us know if you need anything"

The three of them left but Az stayed at your side. You didn't want to be alone but you also didn't want anyone to see you fall apart, which was about to happen any minute.

"Az, can you give me some time alone? I just need to think" you felt bad but you needed to be strong

Azriel gave you a sad smile, nodded, and headed for the door. The second it clicked shut, your facade fell apart. You began softly crying, you laid there all night like that until you finally cried yourself to sleep.

You didn't see the lone shadow in the corner of your room watching over you, and you didn't know Azriel slept outside your room on the floor all night long just in case you needed him.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

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[look-at-the-soul]

More than that

Tommy Shelby x reader (Modern)

Master list

Summary: Tommy inherited something unexpected, but that will lead him to meet someone who’s looking a match for her own inheritance.

A/N: I think sometimes I write things that are out of a fairytale and there are times where I just need to write something like this, in an attempt to pour my heart and soul. This little story has been for a while in my mind but finally I was able to put it out there for you to read so bear with me if you notice a bit of nostalgia until Miss Sunshine shows up.

Word count: 2.5 K

To my niece, Ada… I want you to have my personal belongings like jewelry, clothes, keep what you like and donate the rest.

Everyone but him have been mentioned already in Polly’s will.

Shifting uncomfortably, he folded his arms as a way to protect himself.

And to my nephew, Thomas you can keep my china cabinet.

The lawyer’s voice drifted away. A chuckle escaped his lips thinking it was a joke.

“That would be all, if you agree I just need your signature and we can start the process to change the name in the properties.” The man added taking off his glasses.

A china cabinet. It had to be a fucking joke.

She was still mocking him, even after passing away.

Looking at his siblings, Ada gave him a sympathetic glance, Arthur walked towards him.

“Maybe she liked that cabinet so much.”

Tommy scoffed. It was like getting a hard slap.

But he couldn’t blame his aunt after all, she gave away her belongings the best way she thought. And he didn’t need any money.

“I’ll send someone to get it tomorrow.” He stated waving them goodbye. “Mr. Slate, can I speak to you for a few minutes?”

Tommy rolled his neck to stretch it as the lawyer asked him if he needed something.

“I need to change my will. Add my son Duke instead of Ruby. Half and half of everything.”

“Alright Mr. Shelby I’ll prepare the draft and send you the papers.”

Thanking him, Tommy walked away.

Lizzie had already asked for divorce and this time around he signed the papers without a second thought. In a very short period of time, he found out about Duke, lost Polly and Ruby, divorced Lizzie and Charlie moved out of Arrow House with her.

He was done.

Going home didn’t sound so appealing, he was by himself so instead he marched towards the Garrison for a drink.

****

Y/N arrived home, it was a bit strange to be back this early but she had asked to get the day off work to be able to do all of the things she had written down. It had been a busy morning, she finally took the bag full of clothes to the donation center, allowed herself to visit the dentist office and crossed the entire city to pick up the only thing her uncles let her inherit from her grandmother.

Carrying the box with extra care and love, she placed it on the kitchen table. She had every piece carefully wrapped in bubble and of course it was heavy, her arms were aching but she didn’t want to give them the chance to take it away from her.

Somehow they decided after not taking care of their own mother that they’d sell the house where Y/N lived all her life with her grandmother and divide the money between the three of them, leaving her no choice but to move out immediately. They barely visited her in the last ten years and if they did, it was for no longer than twenty minutes. When papers turned around and it was her turn to take care of her grandmother, Y/N didn’t even hesitate, didn’t ask them for any money for medicines or food, she took full responsibility and now she didn’t just lost her grandma, but her home as well.

Her uncles didn’t even thank her for all the years she devoted herself to look after her grandma, didn’t ask what or how she’d do now so she rushed to get a flat as soon as possible and tried to go on with her life.

Life isn’t fair sometimes, but she felt at peace with the fact that she was always there for the woman who gave her everything.

And now every time she sees her china set on display, she’ll think about her dearly grandma.

“Just let me find somewhere to put it first.” Y/N whispered out loud, her eyes laying on the photograph of the two of them.

“I miss you every day.” Y/N admitted. She had been learning to sort the grieving, it came and went as waves. “Would you mind giving me a sign to know that you’re still around?”

She asked finally, dealing with the lump in her throat.

****

As days went on, Tommy had forgotten all about the cabinet, until one day the hallway towards his office was packed with his siblings and secretaries trying to hang a garland to decorate for the holidays.

He tried to squeeze through the people but his coat got stuck in something.

“For fucks sake!” He muttered, earning a look from everyone around. “Someone take this fucking thing of here or I will.” He warned slamming the door to his office.

A few seconds later his sister walked in without even knocking.

“What’s the matter Tom?” Ada leaned against the window. “You can talk to me.”

But Tommy remained quiet covering his mouth with his knuckles and shaking his head.

It was getting harder and harder to see how little by little a family member passed away. He missed them all so much, more than he would actually express out loud.

He wondered what they’d say or do under certain circumstances. He missed their voices.

“I’d keep the cabinet but I can help you sell it online at least.” Ada offered, realizing her brother wouldn’t let her in.

“Do whatever you want, but get it outta here by the end of the week.” He advised in a serious tone grabbing a lighter and a cigarette.

“Can I use your phone?”

Without a second thought, Tommy placed it on her palm, not even bothering to ask about what she’d do.

A couple of minutes later, she walked in again handing his phone back.

“There you go, you’re welcome.” She added playfully. “Perhaps you should try one of those dating apps?”

Tommy shot her a death stare, his eyes saying more than his mouth could.

“Jesus, really get a girlfriend, a one night stand, anything.” Ada rolled her eyes and her heels clicked against the floor when she started to walk away. Her brother really needed something good in his life and he needed it right away.

Rolling his eyes, he let out a low scoff.

“Ada, please… mi life is a fucking chaos, a relationship, a woman it’s very demanding I don’t have time for that.”

With a smirk, his sister gave him a look. “The thing with love, Tom it’s that it happens when you less expect it.”

And with that, she left him alone with her words hanging around.

Tommy decided to get busy with some emails, as the holidays were around the corner, vendors would start to delay delivering and he wanted to keep busy for his own sake, the upcoming holidays were also a reminder of those who weren’t alive anymore, and he had a long list of beloved people missing.

It was dark when he decided to head back home, everyone had already left the office and once again, his loyal maid Frances was the only one there to welcome him.

“Your tea, and the bills Mr. Shelby.” She announced keeping a worryingly look.

“Thank you Frances.” He gave her a solemn nod.

Frances pondered whenever to ask her boss or not, but gathering the courage, she took a step closer.

“Mr. Shelby just wanted to ask you if we’re decorating the house?”

Tommy pondered for a few seconds he hadn’t think about it, it wasn’t like previous years, he felt like doing nothing. “Yeah, why not?”

Frances nodded and excused herself. Perhaps the decorations would help him cheer up a bit, he had been looking so sad lately, losing people had been taking a toll on him. So she decided to have everything ready as quickly as possible.

Tommy in the mean time decided to go into his own home gym to relieve some of the stress.

***

Finally he heard noise outside his office, the laughs would start any minute now, he already knew the routine by heart, people passing by with coffee, chatting about their plans for the upcoming days…

Staring at his phone he was reading the news focusing entirely on the business section, his free hand moved around his desk not realizing he was about to spill his drink.

“Shit.” Tommy hissed catching the glass right before it made a mess all over his papers. A few drops made it to his suit, but his laptop and documents were safe. Downing the rest of his drink, Tommy strolled to get a couple of napkins.

He was distracted to the point of almost bumping into someone.

“Oops.”

“Shit, sorry are you alright?”

“Yeah, you? I didn’t see you coming.”

Giving her a second look, Tommy felt paralyzed. “Should hang a sign to warn people I usually storm off like that.” He joked nervously, the woman before his eyes was more than eye-catching, but when she smiled shyly by his words, he felt like imagining a million ideas to see her smile again.

“God this is a total beauty. I can’t believe this, it-it’s perfect! Are you sure it’s free?”

Tommy arched one of his eyebrows, feeling confused. He could see she was excited beyond words about it.

“The woman who posted it, said it was free,” then giving him another look she gasped. “Ohmygooood! Is there some dispute over this piece or something?”

Still trying to understand, Tommy rubbed his chin absently. “Why don’t we start from the beginning so we can both understand what’s going on? I’m Thomas. Tommy.” He extended his hand at her.

“Y/N.”

Showing her the way to his office, Tommy thought how her personality was one of kind, she seemed so joyful and happy.

Closing the door, Tommy cleared his throat. “So you talked to my sister, Ada.”

“Yes she announced it on market place, replied me immediately it was available.”

For a few seconds, Tommy pondered about it in silence. Placing together the pieces of the puzzle in his mind, still trying to understand how did this happened because everything happened so fast but then he had a flashback to the day when Ada asked for his phone he had warned her to get rid of it within a week but she insisted on at least two weeks. In the end he gave in.

“Can-“

“Do you-“ she started to say at the same time, waving her hand to give him the chance to speak.

“Can I ask you why do you want this so bad?”

It was a simple question, but to Y/N it was harder to explain.

“I need somewhere to place the China set I got from my grandma.”

“She gave it to you?” Tommy asked with curiosity.

“She passed away, my uncles decided it was my inheritance.”

“Sorry didn’t want to be noisy. Well you can have it.”

“May I ask how you got it as well?”

“As a matter of fact, it’s my inheritance as well. From my aunt, I think she got it from her mother.”

Tommy explained with the hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

She could already see the cabinet filled with her delicate set, the paper in the background was gorgeous, the handles…

“It’s quite vintage… are you sure you wanna give it to me?”

“I don’t see myself placing a fancy China set, so yes.” Tommy stared at her confusion. “She did that to mock me, she actually had bunch of money, divided it between her son and my sister.”

“She sounds like a remarkable character.”

Tommy nodded, she was.

“Well, like my grandma used to say always bless anyone who makes something good for you, and even those who make you bad… I hope you get a million blessings back Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy pondered on Y/N’s words and how much it spoke of her. She was assuming he was a good man because he gave her something.

“I doubt I’ll get any, but thank you.” He chuckled.

Y/N shook her head but look in a different direction, the was something about him that made her feel nervous, safe but nervous.

“Would you give me a couple of days to hire someone to move it to my place?” Y/N asked.

Before she could even finish, Tommy was already shaking his head and pressing a few buttons on his phone. “It’s all settle, my men will do the delivery tonight.”

“I can’t accept that, you’ve already done enough.” She felt mortified, he could see it.

Unlike him, Y/N’s eyes were shining, she owned some kind of internal light that was illuminating everything she touched.

She was lighting the darkest parts of his soul.

“How could I ever repay you?” She wanted to desperately give him something in return for all the happiness he was giving her.

And in an instant, his eyes shone. And it was the most beautiful thing to watch.

“There are two ways I can think of.” Tommy walked towards the bar and took his time to light a cigarette. “Once you’ve it placed and decorated, invite me over to see how it looks.”

Y/N stared at him, her mind in blank he was taking off the jacket of his suit and she was able to admire how attractive he was, his hair was a mix of dark with pepper and salt, he had an impressive figure and she didn’t even want to start with his face so she had to shake her head a little bit to compose.

But there was a sadness in his eyes that made her heart ache.

“Consider it done. And the second one?”

Tommy took his time, trying to put into the right words what was crossing his mind.

“You know, Y/N… at my age after a wife that passed away and a divorce you’d think I’m a picky man… but I’m not, we’ll I am,” he chuckled, “but at certain level and one thing I’ve learned with time is how I no longer want to waste it in the wrong things, the wrong people.”

Y/N was captivated by his velvety voice, she felt like she was under some kind of spell, like she could only nod to everything he’d say.

“So after that long speech, let me tell you I’ve learned to recognize an opportunity when I see one, and I know those only let you get on the train once in a lifetime. So my second request is to ask you if you want to have dinner with me.”

Y/N mumbled something incoherent, she felt nervous but moved by his words. She had only came to collect the china cabinet and somehow ended up with an unexpected date with a man that wasn’t just handsome but generous.

“I think that’s a bargain I can’t miss.”

Tommy fixed his eyes on her then, and for the first time he felt like he had a reason to smile.

Something told him meeting Y/N wasn’t just by chance, there had to be something more than than.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little piece. I’m trying to clean my drafts as quickly as possible 🤶🏻🎄✨ remember your feedback is the most precious gift I could get xx

Tag list

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[beenbaanbuun]

dancing w/ choi san

words - 2.9k

genre - hurt/comfort

warnings - san is a dick but he’s sorry about it, implications of infidelity

——————————————————————————

The door banged against the wall as you stormed into your apartment, a sheepish San in tow. Rambling apologies spilt from his lips but ultimately fell on deaf ears. You were too upset to even consider listening to him excuse his behaviour from the evening. Besides, even if you did, you were sure the meaningless sorries would only serve to infuriate you further, if that was even possible.

“Sunshine, I’ve said I’m sorry,” you really hated the way the words were so effortlessly spilling from his lips, not a single thought put into any of them. You weren't even sure if he knew what he’d done wrong, and that made your blood boil. So you tried your hardest to keep your cool as he followed you inside and closed the door, much gentler than you’d opened it. At least there were no dents in the wall.

“It’s not enough, San,” you grumbled in response, dropping your handbag down onto the floor. It landed with a thud, the sound rippling through the tense air of the hallway. The sigh San let out when he saw how you’d discarded his gift on the floor let you know that he was growing frustrated too. It was like he was angry at you for being angry at him. Ironic really; if you’d acted as he had, you were sure he’d be in a much worse mood. “I don’t want to talk to you, right now.”

And with that, you started to make your way down to your joint bedroom. You were tired, and all you wanted to do was hole yourself up and cry yourself to sleep. In an ideal world, San would take the hint and move to the spare room for the night. In reality, you knew him too well to think he’d let the two of you go to bed upset. It had always been a rule within your relationship to talk your feelings through with one another, even if you didn't want to. Trust San to do everything he can to make sure your relationship was as healthy as possible.

“Well, that’s mature!” He called after you as you set off down the corridor. You ignored him, instead focusing on the rhythmic clicking of your heels against the wooden floor. You tried to pretend like you didn't hear the sound of his own shoes as he followed you.

The door to your bedroom got much gentler treatment than your front door did. It was opened just wide enough for you to slide in and shut the door behind you straight away. You knew it was childish, but it was your way of creating a barrier between the two of you. Even if it was only a thin piece of wood that could be opened at any time, it made you feel calmer for just a few seconds. It was like you'd sent a message from you to him, one that you hoped he could comprehend: leave me alone.

But whether or not San understood what you were trying to tell him was a mystery. If he did, he ignored it completely, pushing the door open just as you sat on the edge of the bed. You felt a fresh wave of miserable rage rise up within you, only this time, it was accompanied by a familiar lump in the back of your throat, and a painful ache behind your eyes. You prayed that the tears wouldn’t actually fall, but as more seconds passed, the wetter your lashline became.

San just stood in the doorway, the constant stream of pathetic apologies had stopped, since replaced by a frustrated silence. The way he was staring at you with nothing but exasperation was completely unfamiliar, and although you knew your anger was valid, you couldn't seem to stop some guilt from rising within you. It was rare to see the man truly angry, and you hated the idea that you were the one to make his cheerful disposition crumble to nothing. You knew that it wouldn't take long for the evil feeling to root itself deep in your brain, so you tried to push it down and let your anger consume you once more. All it took was a few seconds to think back on the evening, and you were there once more; blood boiling and mind ablaze.

“Go away,” you said, trying to put on a tough facade. Although you knew your attempt was futile, it didn't hurt to try.

“Not until we've talked about this,” you flinched as he spoke, his voice lacking the gentle whininess that it carried as he was desperately begging for your forgiveness just a few moments ago. He sounded stern, and you had no doubt that he meant every word of it; he wasn’t leaving until you’d had an adult conversation.

But for some reason, the thought of talking to him about what was bothering you made you want to sob. Anyone with eyes and a brain should’ve been able to see what he’d done wrong, but apparently, San couldn't. You weren't sure whether he was dumb or just plain ignorant. You didn't know which was worse.

“Why should we talk about this, San? You haven't spoken to me all night and now all of a sudden you do want to speak?” You let out a humourless laugh as you realised just how ridiculous the whole situation was, “If you want to talk to someone, how about you go back to those girls you were dancing with all night? I’m sure they’d be more than happy to share a conversation with you.”

Just as you expected, he had no response, a few stuttered words falling from his lips before he went silent once more. You shot him a glare, daring him to say anything other than a true, meaningful apology. It took him a moment or two to collect his thoughts before he said anything.

“Are you jealous?”

You scoffed because of course you were! And while you knew it was an ugly, relationship-ruining emotion, San only had himself to blame. After all, you never forced San to take that girl's hand and lead her to the dancefloor without so much as a look in your direction, just like you didn’t force him to respond to her shameless flirting by keeping and her friend’s glasses full all evening. It would be silly for him to expect you to feel anything other than jealousy when all you could do was watch on with an empty glass as he had the time of his life with some other women.

“Go away,” you repeated, voice small, as you kicked your heels off, sending them flying to the other side of the room. They hit the wall with a thud, and for a second, you thought you could see San flinch out of the corner of your eye.

A few seconds passed by in silence before San began to shuffle further into the room. You let him, not having the energy to tell him to get out again. You were expecting him to move towards the bed, perhaps taking a seat next to you before continuing the conversation in a calmer manner. But he didn't, instead coming to rest by your shoes on the other side of the room. With a sigh, he picked them up, organising them neatly by your dresser. Not long passed until the ones he was wearing were placed right next to yours.

He remained there for a few moments, back facing towards you, staring at your shoes that sat together. You’d been so excited when he’d suggested wearing matching shoes; even more so when he presented you with the pastel blue heels that matched the accents on his trainers perfectly. All he’d wanted to do was put a smile on your face, but he had to go and mess that up.

Fuck! He really had been an idiot, hadn’t he? He never wanted to take you for granted, and yet he had, all in the name of what? Attention? It seemed cruel to admit, but he could hardly back away from his own actions.

It may have been cruel, but at least it was honest, he supposed. He always had been a sucker for compliments from pretty ladies. Compliments from you especially. Your shy voice as you tell him what niche thing about him you’re obsessing over each day. Your pretty smile as you trace his features with your fingertips. Your gentle lips that press against whichever part of him you find yourself drawn to. He guessed he had forgotten how euphoric it felt to have you fawning over him rather than a few nameless, faceless girls that he couldn't even remember anything about. He didn't have to to know that whatever they were telling him was nowhere near as precious to him as your soft words.

He sighed.

“I’m so sorry for ignoring you all night,” He sighed as he spun around to face you. For the first time all night, you heard some sincerity in his voice as he apologised. This time, it wasn’t just a passing comment he made so that you’d talk to him again; you could feel the remorse in his voice. It only made you cry harder.

You let him walk over to you and crouch down in front of you. His expression was soft as he went to wipe away some of your tears with the sleeve of his top. At first, you tried to pull away, but as he wrapped his other hand around the back of your head, bringing your face back into reach, you realised there was no escape. You tried not to grimace as you saw the black marks on his white t-shirt, left by your mascara. San hadn’t seemed to notice them.

There was a soft look in his eyes as he dabbed at your skin, being as careful as humanly possible. The last thing he wanted was to irritate the already red skin around your eyes. As he worked, the thumb at the back of your head rubbed slow circles into your scalp, working alongside his quiet hushes to soothe you. It wasn’t until your eyes were completely dry that he pulled the sleeve away from your face and stood up once more.

Nothing was said when he left to go into the bathroom, the only thing filling the otherwise silent room was the sound of your quiet sniffles. At least until he turned the tap on. You listened as the water splashed against something for just a few seconds before the tap was turned off once more, and San came back into your eyesight with a dampened flannel in his hand and a pretty smile on his lips.

You matched it with your own, albeit a little more pathetic, as he squatted in front of you once more and guided the flannel to your face. It was soft and warm as he tried his hardest to remove your makeup, but of course, with no cleanser, it didn’t really do a lot. You appreciated the sentiment behind it, though. San was looking after you, just like he usually did whenever you weren't fighting. It was his way of apologising; actions rather than words.

“You’re the prettiest person in the whole world,” he whispered as he dropped the wet flannel to the floor and took your face in his hands, “And I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else. I’m pretty sure that this is it for me, and I’ll be damned if I let my own stupidity fuck that up. I’m so sorry for making you feel unwanted tonight, Sunshine.”

He leant in, face just a few inches from your own, hot breath dancing against your lips. It felt like forever before he closed the gap, but when he finally pressed his soft lips pressed against yours, it was magical. There was so much love in the kiss, mixed together with something that felt a lot like remorse, and you couldn't help but want more. You needed him to hold you in his arms, chest pressed against chest as he showed you just how much he loved you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours, heartbeats intermingling until they became one.

His lips moved slowly, yet confidently against yours, slowly deepening the kiss until he was probing your mouth with his tongue. You let him in, allowing it to dance with your own in a soft fight for dominance. Both of you knew that San was going to win, and both of you knew that that's exactly what you wanted. After all, San was good at taking the reigns and making you feel loved and desired.

As he kissed you, his fingers danced across your jawline before moving swiftly to the back of your head to hold your face still against his own. His fingers tightened in your locks, giving a soft tug. It was so gently domineering that your mind went blank for a few seconds. He always did know which strings to pull, or more importantly which strands to tug, to make you weak at the knees.

“San,” you whined as you pulled away from the kiss. There was a pout on your lips that begged to be kissed again, so San did. It was just a small peck before he pulled back once more, ready to listen. Wide eyes stared you down as you let another sniffle wrack through your body, “you love me, right?”

He cooed. Long and sympathetic, as if he'd just watched a kitten bump it's head or something. With his hand still tightly pressed to the back of your head, it was easy enough to tilt it forwards until your foreheads were touching. He looked blurry from this close, but even that couldn't stop you from noticing the softness in his chocolate eyes.

“What a silly question, my sunshine,” he said, low and rumbling, “you're the only woman in the world for me.”

You only pouted harder, a sour look taking over your expression.

“You can't say that to me right now,” and he knew you were correct; he didn't have the right to say that after what he'd done, “you can tell me you love me, but don't say I'm the only woman in the world when you're so easily swayed.”

“I wasn't swayed,” he hummed, although he could tell you didn't believe him, “you are the only woman for me. And I don't want to diminish your feelings but it was only a dance, my sunshine. Nothing more.”

“But you left me,” you looked down at your hands as your voice quietened to a whisper. It’s low and quiet and if he wasn't invading so much of your personal space, you'd wonder if he even heard you.

He pulls back, just a few inches, until he's far enough away to see your full face. To watch how your bottom lip wobbles as you try to hold in the fresh batch of tears that are threatening to spill. He feels a wave of guilt fill him from top to bottom, and he lets it. It sits heavy in his chest like lead, and tugs in every which direction until his chest aches an unfathomable amount.

He feels like he could cry too, but he won't. He knows that if he does you'd be all over him in seconds trying to soothe him, but that isn't your job. Not right now, anyway. Not when he's in the wrong.

So he sucks it up, takes a deep breath and stands up.

“Come here, sunshine,” his hand reached out for you to take, and although you were angry at him, you weren’t not cruel enough to deny him the opportunity to make it up to you. Not when he’d been trying so hard all night. So you took his hand and let him pull you to your feet. Your knees were a little wobbly, but it didn’t really matter when San was there to hold you up.

Within a few seconds you were pressed to his chest and his lips were on the top of your head. They alternated between gentle kisses and whispering indistinguishable words against the styled mop. You let it happen as you rested your weary head against his chest. There was bound to be yet another makeup stain on the white cotton when you eventually pulled away, but that seemed irrelevant right now.

“I’ll never leave you again,” he said a little louder. It seemed to echo around the room, repeating again and again until it finally sank in. It was a promise, you realised, and San never broke his promises, “the next time a girl comes up to me, I’ll scare them off. Make myself look insane, or something.”

You giggled at that. Part of you wanted to believe it was a joke to get you to giggle, but deep down you knew he was telling the truth. You’d have to fight the ladies off yourself next time, just so your boyfriend didn’t do something to embarrass you both in the middle of a nightclub.

“That won’t be hard,” you replied in jest, “you already look insane.”

He chucked and you could feel the way his lips spread into a smile at the top of your scalp. He pressed another smiley kiss against it before pulling away a little so he could look at you. Still pretty, he thought to himself as he stared at your pouty lips and your puffy eyes. Still the love of his life.

“I must be if I was willing to leave your side,” he caught a stray tear with his thumb, “no sane man would leave the prettiest girl in the club all on her own, right?”

[felixbit]

my sun

pairing: felix x gn!reader w. 1.6k genre: fluff summary: it's felix's birthday, and you decide to spend the day reminding him all of the brightness he brings to your life. from sunrise to sunset, you show him how much he means to you. a/n: happiest birthday to my boy :DDD

Getting up early is hard.

Waking up your night owl boyfriend early on his birthday is harder.

But, there you were, dragging Felix out of bed just past six in the morning. You'd scolded him for staying up past midnight on his birthday, letting him know you planned an early morning.

So, a sleepy Felix was resistant to the idea of getting out of bed so early. You tugged on his arm, trying to physically pull him out. His gravitational pull to the bed seemed to increase in the mornings, so it wasn't working out.

"Felix, honey, it'll only be for a few minutes," You pleaded, "You'll be able to go back to sleep right after."

Your boyfriend made a low grumble sound as he finally budged, waving your hand away as he rolled out of bed on his own. "Fine."

Trying to ignore how enamored you were by his morning voice, you took Felix by the hand and walked towards the balcony. The timing was pretty much perfect, the sun just starting to peek above the horizon and the sky spilling out into beautiful colors.

Felix seemed to wake up a little more at the sight, rubbing his eyes as he looked out onto the view. You wrapped your arms around his waist, smiling. "You see that? That's how I feel when I first see you in the morning."

You heard him snicker softly, trying to turn and look at you. "Is this what you woke me up for? A pretty view and a cheesy one-liner?"

Kissing his cheek, you shrugged. "No, I just wanted to show you how much you're like the sunrise in my life. You're my sun, Felix."

Felix made an over-exaggerated groan and turned away from the sunrise so he could hug you back. He buried his face deep into the t-shirt you had stolen from him to use as pajamas. "Thank you," He mumbled into the fabric.

"Of course, sunshine boy," You rubbed his back softly as he held the hug, but then started moving you back towards the door inside.

"Can we please go back to bed now?"

It was unfortunate that you had to get back up only two hours later, but you had other plans in store. Felix slept heavy, so you didn't have to worry too much about getting out of bed without waking him up.

You threw together a presentable look before you left the house. The first destination was a flower shop nearby, exchanging small pleasantries with the employees as you picked out a beautiful assortment of short sunflowers.

It was then that you walked over to the cafe that you had placed a custom order a few days back. They had pastries and cookies that the staff would decorate, given a theme. You had placed a rather large order, telling them to go all out with the sun and sunflower imagery.

You picked it up in a big bag, your hands now full as you traveled back to the apartment. Getting into the apartment itself was a struggle, but you made it with time to spare and set up the pretty display of flowers and breakfast.

With the pastries, you made some pancakes. It wasn't a planned thing, but Felix was taking longer than expected to wake up. So, next to the pastries sat a plate of chocolate chip pancakes. The waiting continued.

Eventually, you heard a yawn as the bedroom door opened. Out stepped Felix, with his blonde hair in a bird's nest on his head. His eyes were hardly open, so it took him halfway to you to stop and look at everything you had set out.

"Good morning, birthday boy," You said with a smile, sitting conveniently next to all of the food set out for him. The flowers were on the other side of the display. His eyes seemed to look over everything, you included, a few times before it all registered in his sleepy brain.

Rubbing his eyes again, he looked like he had finally pieced it together. "Is all this.. for me?"

Standing up and walking over to him, you gave him a quick kiss before nodding. "That it is, sunshine. I got up a little early and picked this up. Thought you deserved to eat some sweet sunny treats and the pancakes I made when I was bored."

Felix circled an arm around your waist and began to walk over to the assortment of pastries with you in tow. "How did you even.. I won't ask. This is perfect, baby. Thank you."

"You don't have to keep thanking me, Felix," You leaned into his shoulder, "I'm just showing you how much you matter to me today."

Felix detached himself from you, walking over to the plate of pastries and picking up a croissant with a little sun shape on it. He bit into it and looked as if he could melt into the floor, turning around and looking at you dumbfounded.

"You like it?" You couldn't hold back laughter as he stared at you like you were crazy, crumbs still on his lips.

"Are you kidding me?" Felix walked over to you and handed you the croissant. "Try it."

You took a bite, tasting the chocolate filling. Maybe it was the hefty tip you left on the order, but it was perfect. The flaky pastry was buttery and delicious, and the chocolate was rich and smooth. After swallowing your bite, you nodded in agreement. "Yeah. That's actually amazing."

"Where did you get these, anyways?" Felix snatched the croissant back from you and took a bite as he awaited your answer.

"Oh, there's this cafe-bakery spot nearby I've been meaning to show you. When I figured out they would do custom decorating orders, this whole plan came together in my head and I decided to hold off on telling you until I did this."

"How could you hide something like this from me?!" Felix feigned exasperation and betrayal, "I'm heartbroken. On my birthday."

"Oh, you drama queen. Eat your pastry."

The day as a whole went great. You had far too many sunflower-themed things throughout the day that Felix was bewildered. Coming up with all of it wasn't easy, but it was turning out better than originally anticipated.

During the day, you took him to a flowery lunch with Hyunjin and Seungmin tagging along. Things went according to plan when both of your friends showed up in their sunflower outfits, much to the shock of your boyfriend. This was going on longer than he expected.

Things seemed to chill out after lunch, spending a few hours in bed watching shows and putting on a movie as you got a chance to nap after the hectic morning. It was nice to wake up on your Felix's chest as you were so used to doing in the mornings, seeing him smile down at you.

"Hi there," You said with a yawn, leaning up and giving him a kiss.

"Hey, you," Felix ran a hand through your hair, his voice warm and sweet, "You said to wake you up at six so we can get ready for dinner."

Catching up to speed on your own plans, you nodded. "Yep, I did. There's an outfit that I hid in the walk-in closet for you on my dresser, can you go put that on? I'll get mine on out here."

Felix looked at you a little surprised before grinning and nodding. "I shouldn't have expected any less after today. Alright, I'll go see what you picked out."

As he stood up and walked over to the walk-in closet, closing the door behind him, you reached under the bed. Pulling out the clothes you hid to change into, you put on your second flowery, warm-toned outfit of the day.

It only took a few minutes for Felix to join you back in the bedroom. "How do I look?" He asked, walking close and looking your outfit up and down.

You smiled and took his hand in your own. "Amazing. Just how I pictured it," You checked to make sure everything you needed was in your pockets, "Alright, you good to go?"

Felix had to grab a few belongings but you set off to the next adventure. Once getting to the parking lot, you climbed in the car. In the back was a cooler and basket with food and drinks and a picnic blanket.

You drove him out to a desolate hilltop spot with ten minutes to spare, setting up your little outdoors dinner on the blanket and Felix happily joining you. He looked out at the view, "So, what's this place for?"

"We have to watch the sunset," You answered, "So you can understand how I feel when I see you at night and before bed."

Felix was a smiling mess as he tried to eat his food, but you were entranced with the sun starting to set. The colors were like something out of a painting, vivid and clear.

Your fingers locked with his as your head rested on his shoulder. The view was stunning as the sun began to dip below the horizon, the beautiful colors being encased by the darkening sky. "I hope you get how I feel by now, Felix. You keep me going throughout the day. You're my sun."

Felix wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug. "I think I get it. And next time, I promise I'll do the same and show you how you make me feel, okay?"

"Okay," You hugged him back, basking in his warmth as the cold nighttime air settled on your skin, "Happy birthday, my love."

[hunnylagoon]

Take Me to War

PT1 Friendly Fire

Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader

A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.

Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.

PT 2 Here!

Two things I hate the most?

My neighbour and New York City.

They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.

I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.

It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.

I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.

I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.

It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.

Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.

The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.

I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.

Trust me, I have retaliated.

On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.

Almost.

I still hate it.

I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.

"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"

"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."

This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"

My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."

"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"

Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.

"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."

"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.

"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-

She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.

"Is everything alright?"

"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.

"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-

"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.

"Wait-

Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.

I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.

The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.

I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.

Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.

My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.

The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.

"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."

She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.

"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."

"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."

"What about the wall?"

Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."

I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."

"Okay?"

I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.

That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.

-

I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.

Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.

Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.

My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.

"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.

"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.

"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.

I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.

"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."

I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.

"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.

"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.

This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."

"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"

The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.

"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.

"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"

"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"

"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.

"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."

"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"

I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.

Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.

The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.

"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."

"Where's here exactly?"

"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.

I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"

"To make it out alive."

"And your name?"

"It's Ellie."

-

That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.

However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.

She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.

I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."

"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.

We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."

"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.

"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.

"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"

"Yeah, you've said-

"Do you wanna come and see?"

I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"

"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."

I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."

"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.

Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.

I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.

On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.

She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.

There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.

"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."

I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."

She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."

"Because I'd win?"

She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."

"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.

Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."

"Who are you talking to?"

"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.

"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."

"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."

"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"

"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."

"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."

"Okay, well-

"So you're like Logan Paul?"

Her eyes go wide "No-

"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."

"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."

I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"

Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.

The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.

My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."

A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!

[dailypenpen]

What do Genshin Men think of with you in their arms? (pt. 2)

characters: Alhaitham, Wriothesley, and Childe

notes: overworked reader (Alhaitham). gn reader, only you pronouns used.

a/n: hello hi um make sure to like and subscribe!! Thank you all for your nice comments on my previous post :) this might not be as good as the prev one 🙇

HERE'S PART 1

Alhaitham thinks you're quite the unique person. You're on the verge of sleep, yet you insist on fighting the urge to shut your eyes. You try, and fail, to rub it out. Your pen is gripped loosely in your hands, your handwriting starting to appear like gibberish.

Alhaitham frowns at your actions, observing you with lidded eyes. Why are you so persistent in keeping yourself awake? Don't you realize that your body is already telling you that it wants to retire right now? He wonders if you got any sleep last night, with how your head is drooping so much. His eyebrows knit together in worry at your state.

You aren't even listening to him anymore, brushing it off with something along the lines of you're not tired. Your lies aren't backed up properly, Alhaitham points out, with how much you're yawning. You groan, now moving to ignore him completely. Your writing is now incomprehensible. You almost planted your face on your papers.

Well, drastic times call for drastic measures. You are in mighty need of a nap.

He grabs you by the shoulders, much like a mother cat with its kitten. He drags you away to the couch with ease. Your sleepy protests are left unheard as he gently sets you down onto the cushions. The moment your body feels the softness of it, your face melts with satisfaction. Alhaitham sighs, sitting next to you. He reaches for your head, letting it lean against his shoulders as the two of you relax.

He glances at you, your tired eyes finally closed. He looks down at your hands and intertwines them with his own. The corner of his lips turned up at the soft sight of it. Who would have thought that someone like him would end up with someone like you? It's puzzling, really. But he chooses not to question it, settling on focusing on you.

Alhaitham presses a soft kiss on your head, his other hand running through your hair. He takes in your features, taking in the ethereal beauty that your entire being exudes. He leans in close, wanting to look at you even more clearly. Tracing the curves of your face, studying it with precision. His eyes trained to look at every part of your face that he deems the most wonderful piece of art his eyes ever laid on. Beating even Kaveh's best work, he muses to himself.

You stir, blinking awake your eyes in hopes that you can catch a peek of him. You try to subtly glance at him but you didn't expect him to look at you like that. To look at you with such softness, with such fondness. With such great intent, great purpose. You can feel your cheeks flush at his heavy gaze. Like by just looking at you, he might find all the answers he seeks.

"Take your rest now, sunshine. You deserve it."

Wriothesley thinks that he is one damn lucky guy. The two of you decided to go on a much needed date after not seeing each other for so long. You wanted to go to this one restaurant, fancy decorations and equally fancy food to be paired with a lovely night together. Of course, who was he to say no to you? He missed spoiling you, hugging you, giving you all the love you rightfully deserve. But work had made both of you busy, so it's no wonder why he immediately jumped to the offer of a date.

He leans against a building near the restaurant, occasionally looking at his pocket watch. He's wearing something more formal, yet still so distinctively him. Wriothesley tugs on his tie, Sigewinne must have tied it a bit too tight for his own liking. It takes half a mind for him to resist the urge to loosen it.

He glances at the people around him, whispering amongst themselves. He knows that some people are looking at him with surprise. The Duke, out in public? Not on official business? He smirks at the thought of their potential questions. The people here can't live without their gossip, can they?

Your voice suddenly calls out for him, Wriothesley instantly perking up. You're running towards him, a huge smile on your face. He opens his arms wide, and you take the cue to jump forwards. He doesn't so much as stumble when you both collide against one another. He wraps his arms around you, taking in your scent and warmth.

At this very moment, he thinks that all is finally well in this world.

You're almost floating off the ground, with Wriothesley lifting you up so that your face is close to his. Your huge grin from before is still present, your hands moving to cup both of his cheeks. He softens instantly, akin to a dog receiving pats from their owner. You could almost see a tail tagging from behind him.

He thinks you look absolutely gorgeous— almost ravishing if anything. You don't often wear clothes like this, but when you do he just relishes in it. He preps kisses on the palms of your hands, smile softening as he hears you chuckle at his actions. He sets you down, not before staring deep into your eyes and leaning ever so closely. He whispers to you, intending that you and only you can hear his proclamation of love. That only you can know about what he truly thinks of you.

"Sweetheart, do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Childe thinks he might be in heaven. The two of you just finished a round of sparring with one another, covered in sweat and grim from it. He sighs in satisfaction, knowing that you beat him this time. He'd want nothing more than to shout out to the skies that he lost against his lover. Childe is proud that he lost, because it was against you. He'd be ok with losing, if it was you who was winning.

You lazily lean against his back, gasping for air. You wipe your sweat with your shirt as it hurriedly drips to the ground. All the while Childe is starring intently at you. You don't even notice the way he's looking at you, eyes focused on your exhausted figure. He whistles lowly, eyes glinting with a plan.

Who was he to deny himself of this opportunity?

Before you know it, you feel a weight on your back and you somehow manage not to fall under it. You screech in surprise, turning your head to look at Childe with wide eyes. You try to shake him off you but he's persistent in staying put. He only grins at you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling your neck. He doesn't care that he's sweaty or that you are too. All he wants right now is to be close to you, even if both of you are filthy and in desperate need for a bath.

You eventually give up, grumbling under your breath. Your hand unconsciously moves to his hair, ruffling it to get the dirt out. He hums in glee, eyes closed and hands tightening around you more. Childe wishes to stay like this forever but he knows that you'll immediately protest to his suggestion. What a bummer, he thinks to himself. You are much too comfortable to let go of. If he had it his way, he would have brought you both to the ground. That way, you won't be able to escape his hugs.

He kisses your cheek, reluctantly releasing you from his embrace. You turn to look at him, wanting to scold him. And dread goes to your face once you look at his playful face. What was he thinking this time? Surely he wouldn't want to spar again? Childe laughs at your expression, and he can almost hear what you're thinking. Really, can you blame him? You give him so much joy and happiness! Who was Childe if he wasn't going to chase that high?

Plus, it's you. He'll never get tired of you, no matter what you both do.

"C'mon babe, you can't be tired already! Come at me!"

Please consider liking and reblogging!!

[blackkatmagic]

Commander Fox! =D

“Please stop throwing yourself off buildings,” Thorn says, ragged in a way that makes Fox hide a smirk behind his pad. “We’re not all airbenders, and some of us have more self-preservation than a concussed tooka—”

“You mean you're cowards,” Fox says disdainfully, and scrawls his CC number on the bottom of the form, sends it, then closes the pad and clips it to his belt. The wind is strong here, Coruscant's wild weather pockets spitting out hurricane gales and stinging rain despite the fact that Fox knows the weather system is set for balmy sunshine. It’s making the rappel lines flap and swing alarmingly, not that Fox cares about that. Thorn seems like the type to, though.

“Affected by gravity, Fox, not cowards—”

Fox rolls his eyes, pulling his helmet on and checking the comm. They haven't gotten a go signal yet, and Stone’s generally good about not karking up, but Fox is feeling antsy. Their thief has been breaking into the Senate every single night, like a taunt, and only leaving signs on their way out, like they're daring the Guard to catch them.

Maybe it’s a personality flaw, but Fox has never met a dare he didn’t immediately latch onto with teeth, and he sees no reason why this should be any different.

And besides, this wind makes Fox want to throw himself right into the slipstream, see how far he can ride it before he has to start catching himself. If he aims right, he might be able to make it all the way down to the second level of the undercity; there’s a good access point near here, and the wind is temptingly strong.

“You're not even pretending to listen to me, are you?” Thorn asks on a sigh, martyred, like he’s the only reasonable one here.

“I only start pretending to listen when you stop bitching,” Fox says without sympathy, and checks the time again, shifting impatiently. It’s getting towards morning, and he’s run out of paperwork to kill time with. If the thief wants to move, they should do it now while Fox is in a relatively good mood, and not cranky from boredom.

He’s also curious. Whatever the hell kind of bender they are, no one’s been able to work it out.

“Fox—”

A shadow, quick, darting. Fox almost misses it, because it blends in with all the hundreds of other shadows shifting in the light from passing speeders. Something about this is different, though, more fluid, more noticeable. He jerks his head up, and in that same moment a speeder’s lights wash across a window at just the right angle, illuminating a figure in dark clothes, headed at a run down a corridor that should have been locked down when that wing of the Senate was evacuated.

There's no pausing, no moment to think. Fox is moving before he can even register the motion, and he twists, hands up, will behind the motion. Leaps—

The wind catches him like wings, like vast hands, and he hurtles down off the side of the building, arrowing straight for the line of windows across the way.

Like every time, bending is instinct and an adrenaline rush and a burst of vicious, knife’s-blade joy that ricochets through Fox’s whole body, rises to flood him entirely, and he twists, foot leading, and feels the whirl of air that cracks glass like it’s a piece of himself. There's shouting from behind him, troopers scrambling to follow, but Fox doesn’t care.

He’s a howling wind, he’s a hurricane, and when he explodes into the hallway, a gale rising to a scream around him, it feels like he’s the most powerful thing in the whole galaxy. Like he’s invincible, untouchable, free.

No one’s ever going to take that away from him. Fox won't let them.

[igotanidea]

The phone number: Dick Grayson x reader

She was walking through the mall, running errands, crossing off the things on the to-buy list, eventually ending up carrying like ten bags.

A little too much for a girl.

Fighting with the bag strap, painfully digging into her shoulder, Y/N tried to find her phone, aiming to call her sister to pick her up, cause the chances of getting home in one piece were decreasing by a minute.

And then, to her terror she realised that the device was nowhere to be found.

Stopping in the middle of the mall passageway, the poor girl started digging into her bags and bundles, noting the slight shaking of hands she couldn't quite control.

Just not that.

She couldn't have lost her phone. There was so much information there. And she was having it in her hand just a second ago, checking time.

Right. She was checking time.

So there was no way she left it somewhere while shopping.

Yes. Obviously, She was so silly. All she had to do was take a deep breath, calm down and search methodically, and not fight the luggage in the middle of the way like a crazy squirrel with her hair all over the face

"Hey, you gonna move or something? You're blocking the passage..." male voice came from behind her, painfully pointing out that she was being a road hog.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry, I just-" she spun around only to see a tall, lithe and very handsome man. The force of her movement mixed with the heavy weight on her shoulders made her lose balance and for a moment she was on a highway to meet with the floor.

However, before she could paint the tiles with her blood, the man caught her arm, getting half of her stuff into his own hands (literally! and the way those forearms muscles flexed almost made her fall again). Having ensured she wasn't dizzy or anything like that anymore he carefully guided her to the nearest sitting spot.

"You look distressed."

"Oh, do I?" she fixed her hair, now fully in panic mode due to the allegedly lost phone.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I lost my phone..." she finally muttered and then it dawned on her. "Oh, um, hey- I really don;t want you to take it wrong way or make it sound weird but maybe you could - um-" she stuttered a little, cause the request she was going to make to this model-like man could easily backfire on her. "Could you maybe call me?"

"Call you?" he grinned and she mentally prepared herself for the worst reaction "you didn't even get my name and you're already offering your number?"

There it was. She was right. A mistake asking a guy like him something like that.

"You know what just forget it-"

"Oh, sweetheart, don;t go shy on me now. I'll be more than happy to call you. Only to help you find the phone, obviously." he smirked with a light chuckle, showing all his shiny teeth.

"Obviously." she nodded, rolling her eyes a little, dictating the set of numbers to him.

And as the phone was luckily found at the bottom of her bag, she hastily mumbled words of acknowledgement and fled the place before he could even attempt another mockery.

Leaving Dick Grayson astonished and a little amused, shaking heads while watching that girl run away from him.

***

She forgot the whole incident almost immediately. Well, maybe not all of it, cause those blue eyes seemed to mentally follow her everywhere for the next few days.

And when she finally managed to get past them, her phone chimed with a message from a number that was not in her contact list.

"Hey sunshine. Not to complain, but I think you at least owe me coffee for my help."

Y/N frowned, taking a longer moment to figure out what this was about. Was it SPAM? Phishing? An erotic offer from a portal that gathered her data from god knows where?

"Who is this?" she responded.

"Oh, you are hurting me. It's Dick. From the mall? The one who helped you with the phone hunt?"

Oh. It was him.

"So, now that you got my name, what do you say about that coffee? My treat." the notification of a text interrupted her train of thoughts.

A little drink couldn't do much harm to her, right?

"Okay." Y/N texted, waiting for his proposition, smiling to herself without even noticing it.  

[tteokdoroki]

✩࿐TRACK 02: ONOFFONOFF. eijirou kirishima (2K)

about. by day, kirishima fights crime to keep everyone he loves safe. by night, you’re fighting to keep your relationship alive, even while everything else is crumbling to pieces.

warnings. minors, ageless and ageless blogs do not interact! suggestive, angst, hurt-comfort, hopeful/open ending, toxic relationships, dry humping, civillain + fem!reader, pro hero!kirishima.

things to note. happy saturday homies, i hope you enjoy this second instalment !! i adore writing angst pieces so it was nice to go back to that, enjoy mwah ! <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / playlist ✩

how could anyone ever hate eijirou kirishima. 

by day, he’s everybody’s favourite pro hero. though number five on the ranks, red riot has a comforting charm that dazzles the public. fear dissipates almost instantly whenever he was on the scene, as if there was never anything to be afraid of in the first place. he is calm while he works, caring. holding crying babies to his plush chest as he breaks through burning buildings, pulling dazed strangers out of the way of speeding cars, taking out criminals with brute force and bright banter. 

he’s wonderful with kids as well, which by extension, makes kirishima popular with the parents — often using their starry eyed little ones for a chance to get close to the bulky hero. of course, your boyfriend doesn’t realise. he doesn’t take note of the lingering touches during touching family photos with him, numbers slipped into his hero costume or how people lean against kirishima desperate for a messy signature to be scrawled across inappropriate parts of their bodies. 

eijirou is too nice to say no, to set boundaries. he’s warm and friendly — the perfect aura of sunshine. in some ways, you can understand the way the world almost revolves around him. why all the people and their planets make him the centre of the universe. after all, it’s part of the reason you ended up dating him. 

but the press adore him too, they really do. their beloved red riot is always willing to stop for interviews even when he’s busted and beaten, they love the way he leans down (all 6’5 of him) to hear the reporters better. they eat up the way he blushes and bumbles humbly whenever he’s asked about the status of his relationship. to which he answers “i wouldn’t say there’s anyone in particular that’s in the picture right now…” while sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, accidentally showing off his bulging muscles and firm chest. 

how could you ever hate eijirou kirishima. 

by night, he’s supposed to be yours and only yours. but you can smell floral perfumes on his collarbones from fans that get too close and you can feel the distance grow between you like an invisible barrier.

you hate that kirishima lies about your relationship to the public just as a ‘precaution’ when it’s clearly a ploy from eijirou’s marketing team to keep him the lovable, single, himbo hero. you hate that it makes you want to push him away. 

it’s not just you and him in this partnership. it’s you, eijirou and the whole world that eagerly watches his every move — and it’s starting to make you feel like a third wheel, like less of a priority, like more of an accessory.

you don’t know when loving eijirou kirishima becomes difficult and starts to feel like a chore — in your mind, you’re under appreciated. he comes home from work, sleeps, and leaves before the sun rises without giving you an ounce of attention (aside from the money dropped into your bank account as an apology). the dates that you plan become less frequent too, or when they do happen, kirishima leaves halfway through with a lopsided sorrowful grin. 

“the world isn’t gonna save itself, yanno. someone’s got to be on the scene.”

you fill the void in your heart with your work, spending time with friends who don’t offer the same comfort as your long-term partner and lazing about the house. but being alone gives you the space to begin resenting kirishima, giving into the toxic comparisons of your relationship against that of others — todoroki and his girlfriend are getting married soon, why aren’t you and eiji?

it’s not like you haven’t brought this up before, over quiet dinners interjected with snide remarks — it only ever leads to screaming matches that end with your throat raw and kirishima slamming doors so loud that the house shakes. but brought back together by the toxic cycle of love, you end up back in his bed and he ends up back inside you — taking root in your ribcage right where your heart lies, the thorns on his roses piercing the beating muscle. 

you cough up perfumed petals like you would blood, kirishima leaving fatal wounds on the inside  of your chest cavity. 

it doesn’t stop the way you so brokenly make love, tearing one another apart and piecing you back together like patchwork. 

“careful.” your boyfriend mumbles through swollen lips as they press against your own. he lets your tongue slide into his hot mouth, your noses pressed up against each other — breath ragged. 

your hands reach for eijirou’s shirt to tear through it. each of your movements are calculated to replace what traces from others linger on him. you pull, bite and scratch at golden skin that is already littered with scars from his battles. those where he protected the country he loved, the people who loved him. “slowly…” kirishima ushers, you gently, tilting his head back when you tug on the black roots of his hair to gain access to his neck.

“d-darling, what’s the hurry?”

you love him so much that you think you might hate him even more. he’s so perfect, he doesn’t colour outside of the lines, he touches you like you’re a house made of cards even though his fingertips set your entire body on fire.

blood rushes through your ears, carrying a heat that blossoms in your lower tummy and intoxicates kirishima as you kiss him again — teeth sinking into his lower lip until it bleeds. 

“c-can we talk?” kirishima stutters out as your tongue glides under his earlobe next and your hips slot against his perfectly, grinding down into his hardening cock. “w-what’s going on? fuck,” he curses, hips bucking up instinctively. “what’s going on with you?” 

“nothing.” stop talking.

“darlin’, you’re being a little rough…” shut up.

“you usually like that.” you utter breathlessly, switching sides to leave marks on the unmarred portions of his neck. 

this time, however, the red head grips your hips a little tighter — halting your movements and pushing you back so he can get a better look at your face. “baby, let’s just—“ 

“what, kirishima?” finally, you snap — glaring at him long and hard. “what could you possibly have to say now? that you can’t fuck me tonight because you’re too busy working? cause you’re busy thinking of bending over that pretty, ditzy little reporter from work today ‘cause she’s a little more tolerable than me? what is it eijirou?” you punctuate each of his words with a jab to his muscular shoulder, though the man is sturdy enough not to feel it. 

you’ve had this fight before, dozens of times and on more occasions than you can count on both hands. eijirou either tunes out to play innocent or he snaps  back with all teeth bared and fangs on display.

“you’re being unfair.” is all he says, tone dull and lifeless just like it’s been before. it’s like he’s given up on the two of you, not that you’d blame him. there’s no more fight left in the two of you for your love, only fuelled by the anger and resentment  you feel towards  each other. 

“what next? bet you’ll think i’m being unreasonable.” 

“you are being unreasonable.”

“oh i’m sorry, is that a problem for you? am i inconveniencing you, riot?” 

“come on, what’s with the attitude?” 

“excuse me?” 

kirishima exhales shakily, letting go of your hips to pinch the bridge of his nose. his ruby eyes shoot everywhere but you, he can’t even stand to look at you when arguments like this come up. those eyes of his, they carry too much shake and guilt.  “you always get like this. when i come home and i just want to be close to you and you get all…aggressive.” he spits out harshly, like the words are poison on his tongue, like he can’t stand to see what your love has soured into. “angry like you want to hurt me when i’m trying to love you.”

you scoff, rolling your own jewelled eyes. “love me? don’t make me laugh, eijirou. you don’t know the first thing about loving anyone except for you and your job.” 

“will you at least fucking explain what i did tonight, ‘cause i’d love to know what’s got you so bitter, sweetheart?” hurt echoes in his timbre voice. you wish that you could tell him, but you flounder for words and react with rage instead — how can you tell the man you wanted forever with that you hate the hero he’s become? 

“fuck you, red!” you stand, retaliating instead of communicating your needs properly. “fuck you, mister red ‘righteous’ riot, mister eijirou ‘incapable of doing wrong’ kirishima.” 

kirishima’s face crumples but he follows suit, standing, but he doesn’t make a move to come closer. “what’s your fucking problem? what did i do?” 

“the blame is never on you, is it?” 

“well i’d like to know why it should be! if you’d just—“

“it’s like you have no sense of accountability—“

“i’m trying—“ 

“—like honestly, fuck you, eijirou.” 

“you’re not letting me talk!” the redhead damn near screams, the base in his voice shaking your house, bouncing off the walls. he sounds drained, pained and no amount of medication can fix it. you’ve blackened his heart with scorch marks and danced amongst the flames and now you’re finally seeing that it’s not just you who this relationship is crushing. 

each word you spit kirishima cuts him into the shape you want him to be, wounding him deeper than any battle scar. 

“and you’re not letting me fucking breathe!” you shout back rather than listening to logic. it’s a low blow, you’re highly aware — a reference back to the early days of your relationship when kirishima overcompensated his absence for affection. he thought you’d worked through it. you liked to throw it back in his face when you were mad. you’re stubborn, you always have been, but for some reason you want to hit kirishima where it hurts. you want to cut him up into the perfect shape, until he feels exactly how you feel. 

when he finally makes a move, you become aware of his sheer size for the first time that night. eijirou would never hurt you, he couldn’t harm a fly even if he wanted to but that doesn’t mean you’re not scared of his presence. kirishima touches every corner of the room, his anger flooding through it and pushing you under so that you’re drowning in your own mistakes and his too. 

“you’re suffocating me too,” he mumbles, voice just above a whisper and you relax into his arms. “i’m trying so hard to be the man that you want me to be. you take so much, you want even more. you want a house and you want kids and i want to give you that too but you make it so hard. when you hurt me like this.” he’s being honest, the truth scratching at his throat as the pro-hero vocalises what you’ve failed to communicate for months. you’ve been selfish and he’s been avoidant, the pair of you only hurting one another, carving cuts so deep the wounds won’t heal and the blood won’t stop pouring unless either of you do something. and fast. 

“where do we go from here?” you don’t even realise that you’re crying until your boyfriend swipes the pad of his thumb underneath your eyes, leaving no time for the salty droplet to hit your skin. 

your teary gaze is tied to his as kirishima’s ruby eyes glisten under the moonlight. “i don’t know.” he hesitates. “i don’t want you to leave me. you need me.”

you whimper and curl up against his chest. “i don’t want that either.” 

kirishima wraps his arms around you like a safety blanket, shielding you from the ugly truth of your own relationship. it’s always on and off with the two of you, but this time you’re determined to make it work — you hope that he is too. 

“we have to work on this, on us.” he says firmly, but he squeezes you close as if you might disappear — holds you as if you’re a flower that might wilt if it’s touched. “none of this on and off, we…we gotta talk to each other from now on. yeah?” 

“yeah,” for the first time in months, you sink into kirishima’s touch — accept his rough edges and hardened shell, and turn your pain into a promise. “we will.” 

a promise to keep dancing together like it’s the first time even when the world around yourself and eijirou kirishima is burning.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

One For The Road [3]

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: You and Cecil go on a sort of date.

A/N: Another huge thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading again! You are the best!

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, catching feelings and self denial of catching feelings, fingering, oral sex (afab! & m!receiving), jerking off, public sex (they're in a car), please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1578

I've Been Here Before

Cecil practically jumped on you when you got out of the car, hugging you so tightly he nearly broke a rib. He kissed your cheek shyly when you broke apart, grinning so widely.

That look alone was enough to set off the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Thank you so much for coming with me.” He kisses your cheek again, giggling. “No one else wanted to see it with me.” 

You smile, his expression infectious, “You didn’t need to wait outside…” He’d been standing in front of Harry’s house pacing.

“I didn’t wanna make you wait.” He hugs you again, nuzzling into your neck and then hurrying to open the driver's side door for you.

You chuckle softly, but secretly loving it. “Thank you.”

He nods and gets into the passenger seat beside you, clicking on his seatbelt as you start the car and pull off. 

He takes a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. “I printed out the tickets, just in case, because my phone battery sucks balls, and I wanted to make sure everything went right.” He beams at you again and it just melts your heart. 

“How much do I owe you for the tickets?” 

“Oh, no, no, nothing, these are on me.” 

“Cec…” you say softly, you know he’s not working at the moment. 

He shakes his head, “Nope, my treat. Really, not only do I get to go, but I get to go with you.” He smiles as he looks over the tickets again, double checking everything for the hundredth time that he hadn’t messed up the date or time. 

It was at the newly opened retro drive-in theatre in town, a double feature showing Bringing Up Baby and What’s Up Doc with a twenty minute intermission in between. 

“I didn’t realise you liked comedies so much?” You ask and Cecil nods exaggeratedly. 

“Love movies, and these are so good, What’s Up Doc is like, top tier. Like one of the best comedies of all time.” He grins, practically buzzing like a living embodiment of sunshine.

.

Getting there is easy, as is parking. You buy Cecil a large popcorn, which makes him get watery eyed. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he wipes his eyes with the heel of his hand. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you smile and squeeze his hand reassuringly. “You okay?” 

He nods, “Yeah, yeah,” and gives you a blinding smile. “Just been one of those days, you know?” 

You do know. 

Just before the first film starts he checks his phone to make sure it’s on silent. The screen is cracked, it has been for the last eight months. You don’t mean to look, but you catch a glance at the screen. There are three missed calls from a contact listed as ‘D’, and a text notification that hasn’t been read. ‘Call me now. I need…’

You shake your head ever so slightly. It’s not your business. You swallow and adjust your seat, moving it back and giving yourself some extra leg room while you watch the movie.

The first film Bringing Up Baby starts on time and you enjoy it. Cecil mouths along silently with some of the lines and offers you popcorn while he pulls a pack of M&M's from his jacket to share with you. 

When the film finishes, they play Looney Tunes cartoons on the screen during intermission. Other people get out of their cars to get more snacks. 

“You want anything else?” You ask and Cecil shakes his head, he looks around for a few minutes, checking both right and left and then front and behind.

“Cec?” You ask.

He turns back to you and smiles sweetly. But you can see the cogs working behind the expression. He’s up to something. 

Cecil leans towards you, kissing your cheek lightly. “Thank you again for coming with me.”

“Of course.” You smile, about to speak again when he presses his lips to yours, letting out a soft, wanton moan and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like chocolate, and for once, not weed.

He snakes his hand to the back of your neck, shifting closer as he hums and deepens the kiss.

You touch his cheek, kissing him back with equal energy, even if you are a little surprised at his sudden forwardness. It’s not unwelcome though, you were hoping he’d still be interested in something more physical after the films. 

But you are not expecting the hand that he rubs against your thigh, quickly sliding under your skirt and pressing against your core through your panties. 

“Cecil,” you break the kiss. 

“Hmm,” he nips your bottom lip, “so glad you wore a dress again.”

“We shouldn’t-”

“Why?” He breathes into your mouth, eyes lidded and a disgracefully innocent smile plastered across his face. 

“We’re in public.”

“We’re in your car, it’s dark out.” 

“Cecil, the light of the screen.” You gesture with your hand.

“No one will know.” He kisses you again, practically hypnotising you with the rhythmic move of his tongue. He presses lightly at your core, dragging his thumb against your clit until you whine. “No one will see, I promise.”

Then he smiles, knowing he has you. He pushes your underwear to the side, and presses his forefinger inside easily, curling it up and strokes your walls. 

You gasp into his mouth, your back arching as he starts to take you apart piece by piece.

“See?” He groans, barely stopping to kiss you as he speaks. “Isn’t this nice? Just us? Waiting for the next movie? Gushing all over my hand?” 

He circles your clit with his thumb, his grin widening when you keen and grab at his shoulder, too far gone to even worry if anyone can see you, if anyone is watching.

“Cec,” you plead, unsure what for as you widen your legs. 

He hums happily, “You’re gonna have to stop wearing panties when you see me.” 

You rock your hips against his soft strokes, the pressure building between your legs dizzyingly fast. “I– I can take them off.”

“Oh, fuck yes.” He groans, moving his hand away and kissing you when you whine at the loss. 

He helps you pull them off when you raise your hips, pulling them completely off your legs and stuffing them into his jacket pocket. 

You expect him to just go back to his previous position with his hand touching you, but he leans down completely, grinning at your little gasp of surprise and how your muscles tense when he pulls your skirt up completely and sucks your clit into his mouth. 

You cover your mouth with your left hand, sinking your right into his soft curls as you squirm in your seat. 

He pushes two fingers back inside you, curling and stroking in time with how he sucks your bundle of nerves, slowly easing you out of his mouth to draw you back in and flick against you with the tip of his tongue until you're writhing and panting and pleading nonsense into the air. 

“Cecil, Cecil,” you repeat his name like an eager prayer. “Please, please,” you tug at his hair, pulling him closer. “Please don’t stop, please, I-” Your sharp cry cuts you off and you smother the sound with your hand. Your body tenses, sings as the pleasure flows up and out and swallows you whole.

He keeps sucking, softly swirling his tongue until your muscles relax and your grip on his hair loosens. 

He sits up with a lazily grin, his chin shining with your slick. 

You breathe deeply, your nerves buzzing with the aftershocks. “How are you so good at that?” 

His smile widens and he shrugs suddenly acting all bashful, as if he didn’t have your cum all over his stubble. 

He sits back in his seat, pleased with himself and throws a piece of popcorn up in the air and catches it in his mouth. 

You lean over close to his ear and make him shiver, “Your turn.” 

He audibly gulps as you quickly undo his jeans and pull his thick, heavy cock free. He’s throbbing, so hard it looks painful with how red and swollen the tip is.

You lean down quickly, swirling your tongue over his head, mirroring the movements he took against him while you cup his full balls.

“Fuck– I– can you, shit,” he groans as you lick up the prominant vein along his length, one hand on your shoulder, the other pressing against the roof of the car. “I, sorry, I’m gonna come so fast, can you suck-” He cries out, a long drawn out whine when you quickly take him into your mouth and sink down. You barely get to bob twice before he tenses, shakes and spasms, apologies falling from his lips in a flurry as he comes into your mouth, spurting hot and hard. 

You swallow eagerly as his cum hits your tongue, drinking it down and sucking him dry until he stops shaking and lets out a contented sigh. 

He’s got a wonderfully lovesick expression on his face when you sit up, pulling you in for a long sweet kiss. 

“Sorry I came so fast, I-”

“It’s hot.” You grin and he laughs.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You nod.

He blushes a little, running his right hand through his curls. “That's, um, that’s really nice of you to say.” 

“It’s true, makes me feel all powerful.” 

He giggles, “Yeah?” 

You nod.

“Good.” He kisses you again, “because you are.”

Thank you for reading!

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[hopeluna]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ — Barista!Izuku Midoriya

♡! hope's notes: this is 50% unrealistic and 50% self indulgent. Tell me what u think lol <3

It's 7 in the morning when you realise that you're truly, utterly fucked.

You try to convince yourself that it was really your alarm's fault for not waking you up. Because now you are desperately trying to shove everything in your bag, while chewing on the world's driest granola bar and make your way out of your apartment.

You do the calculation in your head as you make your way down the stairs, trying not to trip. Your class is supposed start at 7:15, so you have approximately 5 minutes to get a much needed cup of coffee. And then you need to make run for your class which is 15 minutes, hoping to whatever deity that you'll reach there in 10 minutes.

A groan of frustration escapes you on the sidewalk at the utter slow pace the lady is moving in front of you, talking animatedly on the phone.

You've been late to class enough times this entire week that you're convinced your professor is going to shoot you in the head today. The first thing you notice in front of the cafe is how cute and cozy it looked. Like something straight out of a rom-com set.

There were small little coffee shops like this scattered through almost every road corner outside the campus. Coffee shops, cheap diners and stationaries all looking out for their target customers, drained college students.

This particular coffee shop, you had realised one day talking with your friends, was new and untouched by your hands. You knew that logically it wasn't a great time right now to experiment newly opened shops, no matter how much your friends had been praising the place but you were already late, and the decor and smell of roasted coffee beans seemed too appetizing to pass up.

The gentle chime of the bell at the entrance almost made you forget that your life could possibly be on the line in less than 10 minutes. Your shoulders loose some tension at the faint but noticeable fragrance in the air, the smell of coffee and the muffled sounds of students clicking away on their computers, couples chatting away in excitement and the sound of the workers behind the counter.

Oh yeah, you were definitely forgetting about class for some minutes.

Tapping your fingers to a random rhythm, your eyes immediately go to the cheapest drink on the big menu overhead the counter. Being a college student, you weren't really raking up the big bucks and would rather like to be able to afford instant ramen in the future.

And that's when it happened.

You swore that you almost went blind for about 2 seconds at the absolute beaming, sunshine-filled smile the barista gave you. The simple words "what can I get for you today?" suddenly sounded like the most holiest piece of angel music coming out of his mouth. He was cute, like a lot, with lush green curls falling messily atop his head, freckles doted like stars across his cheeks. You briefly registered the small "Midoriya" name plate attached to his shirt.

"Um, e-excuse me?"

"Yes?"

"I- what can I get you, ma'am?"

"Your number, hopefully"

Shit. The wide eyes and the full flush creeping up on his cheeks made you almost shriek in horror, you didn't mean to say that aloud. Suddenly, the once calming air felt stifling and uncomfortable.

"Uh! I mean- no!", wincing at your own volume, you suddenly wished that the earth would just open up and swallow you whole. "You see, um, that was- a joke! A bad joke!". It took all your strength to not bash your head on the counter under your sweaty palms, cringing at yourself.

The nervous laugh that "Midoriya" let out certainly didn't help the situation either.

You felt the tension lifting off your chest when a girl came up to the counter to ask for more creamer. The next course of action was probably not your proudest moment, definitely something you would look back at and curse yourself for. In your defence, your mind felt scrambled and fried at the whole interaction, so you did the only thing your brain managed to comprehend. You ran.

A few minutes later, already at your campus, you stopped for a second for breath. The frustrated whine you let out next was met with some questioning glances your way that you could not be bothered about right now, your mind only swirling with one thing.

You didn't even get your fucking coffee.

© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the wind. Epilogue.

Series masterlist

a/n As promised, I welcome you into the last glimpse of our beloved's future. Thank you so much for joining me in this wonderful project. I had a blast writing it and a big part of my heart will always be here. ✨🤍 in a way can be read as a separate piece. 🫧

warning: kids for sure, mentions of past trauma and that's all. Happy, happy vibes. Just cute fam goodness.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You hummed to yourself. That ancient melody of the wind that had been woven into your blood for decades. One that was now accompanied by a gentle breeze. Pulling the basket to rest on your hip, you slowly turned back to the house that Azriel had bought, even before you and the kids were in the picture. One he had surprised you with weeks after the proposal. You three had slowly decoded and rebuilt. Painting flowers and gusts of wind along the rims of the windows. Slithers of dark and radiant beams of light. A mural of your story. One that had threaded you all together so tightly that there was no way to distinguish where one of you stared and the other began.

"Can you do my hair the way you had it during the mating ceremony with papa?", you flinched slightly as an overly excited Zofie appeared right in front of you the moment you walked through the patio door. You slowly set the laundry down. Cupping her cheek gently. To think that now she was almost above your shoulder. Where, when, and why did babes suddenly start to age way quicker?

"With flowers and all?", you asked her softly, and she nodded so eagerly that there was no way for you to decline. You loved that both Axel and Zofie had been there. Have been a part of one of the happiest days of your existence. Mother, strike them all. You still got goosebumps just from the thought alone. Of course, neither you nor Azriel cared about official vows and ceremonies, but there had still been a part of you that wanted to meet him in the middle of the old oak forest. Meet him in the glistening pool of startling. Take his hand as he slowly helps you step over the slippery stones.

Azriel was beautiful. You knew that from the moment you laid eyes on him. But that day. Dressed in all black. His slightly curly hair brushed back, yet that one stubborn, utterly perfect strand lazily fell over his forehead. The moment Azriel's eyes met you, you were ready to run down the path, not walk. Run straight into your mate's arm, into your forever. "My light, my sunshine," the spymaster had muttered as he brushed his nose against you when yours, you two were inches away, both up to waist submerged in the starlight.

"Alright, but...", you muttered, shaking your head slightly. You hadn't been the one to do your hair. It was Feyre and Cordelia who had braided and poked at your head for what felt like hours. "I picked all of the flowers myself." Zofie quickly cut into your train of thought, "You don't have to do anything; just braid," she breathed out. So hopeful. So full of young enthusiasm. Flowers. It had been the flower that Elain had grown in her garden that had been threaded through your hair that day. Even if Azriel had turned from her, you had sought her out against his will. She had moved out with Lucien. With Beron dead and Eris running the autumn court, the youngest Vanserra had wanted to stay close to his brothers. She, like the farmers in the border villages, had been poisoned by the dark magic Padme had borne. A weak link—that's what she had been. A naive, still ever-trusted heart that had been forced against her own will to cause harm that now she had to be forced to bear.

You chased that memory away. Even now. Even after so much, her story still sent shivers down your spine. Reaching for the brush, you gently brushed Zofie's long, onyx hair. Twisting and braiding. Plucking flowers from the basket as you went. Zofie shifted in her chair. She had a direct view of herself in the big brass mirror that stood against the wall in the hallway. Smoothing the silk of her skirt, she muttered, "Do you think it's too much?" You met her eyes in the reflection ahead. She was one stunning young girl. But teen years could be and often were filled with so much doubt. "Oh gosh, it's too much, isn't it?", she nearly sighed, and you realized that you had taken way too long to answer, "Zofie, darling, calm down; you look lovely." You smiled at her, finishing some of the last braids as you carefully pinned them into place.

"We'll go as soon as Axel comes back," you said softly. She rubbed her palms together, already trying to turn her head to see the backrest. The lack of patience in these younglings... "Do you think papa will be mad?", she asked softly, yet you couldn't help a slight frown that ran through your face. "Mad about what?", you had started right as the door opened, and Azriel walked in, looking as refined as ever. You instantly felt a gentle caress against the bond, making you smile before the spymaster turned his attention to the not-so-little girl. "Wow," Azriel breathed, and Zifie's cheeks instantly turned crimson. "Give me a twirl," his shadows already dancing in the sides of the purple dress you had stitched specifically for tonight. "You look breathtaking, my little start," and here she was, nearly shining with the love and confidence Azriel poured into her on a daily basis. She flourished when she was with him. And Azriel had done all he could to make her grow into her skin. Into her power.

"It feels like a whole welcome party for your brother," Azriel finally chuckled as he stepped further into the house, and Zofie's face fell instantly. The girl spared you a look before turning to her dad, "It's not for Axel." It was barely a whisper, and yet she knew that he heard her. "You just wanted to get...", but Azriel's voice died down right as the realization hit him. "Oh...", he breathed out. His features grew stern almost immediately. "Nyx's will be there," Zofie swallowed thickly.

This was probably one of the things Azriel struggled to get over. Of course, he knew they were going to mate eventually. And you had to be blind and dead and, in general, not be able to grasp reality to miss the way Zofie and Nyx were constantly pulling towards each other no matter where they went. "Papa," she breathed, stepping closer to Azriel and pulling at his arms that were tightly folded over his chest. "You are too young," Azriel huffed slightly, shaking his head. "Come on," Zofie huffed, turning to you. "Mom," she pleaded her case with you.

"Azriel, we talked about this," you said softly. And you two had. Elain had a vision of them a long way down the line. Azriel, of course, had called it bullshit. But Rhys saw the early flickers of bonding between the two kids with his own two eyes. Of course, they were left unaware for now. Way too young to go through frenzies. Hand holding already gave Azriel cardiac arrest. If Nyx were to pull her into a cabin all alone, the end of the world would be upon everyone.

"You are supposed to be in the phase when boys are disgusting to you," Azriel stated plainly, making you giggle slightly. Yet you knew that there was only so long he could decline her, and the minute Zofie's shoulders had sagged in defeat, the spymaster had thrown his head back too. "Fine," he muttered, and Zofie let out a happy squeal that she tried to cover with her palms, but nothing truly slipped through Azriel's ears. "Your shadows can be with me at all times," she stated, nodding her head firmly. "Oh, like hell they will be, missy," Azriel leaned in to kiss her forehead lovingly. His fingers reached for the blue sapphire that glistened on her neck. Azriel had crafted it himself for her. It was a way for her to block out the flare-ups of her empathetic powers. It helped her keep her shields up. Helped. She could do it perfectly fine on her own now, but Zofie had never taken the necklace off. No matter what, that piece of jewelry always stayed.

"I'm home." You nearly let out a gasp as you turned your attention to the door. And here he stood. You nearly tripped over yourself as you rushed to him. "Oh, my sweet," you said, feeling your eyes tingling as you cupped Axel's face. "Look at you," you breathed. To say that it was hard watching him go to the camps to train would have been an understatement. You couldn't sleep the first night he was gone. Had made Azriel winnow you there just so you could see him sleeping peacefully. Of course, he wasn't alone. Nyx was with him, and the two had formed quite a friendship, but still, the past trauma of the place lingered.

"Ax," Zofie's voice echoed, and Axel barely got to turn away from you as she jumped into his arms. Axel spun her around a couple of times before muttering, "Hey, Zo." The two siblings were beaming at each other. It was hard for them to stay away from one another. For most of their lives, they held onto each other so tightly. Protected one another. A slight sob slipped past your lips. "Mom, come on," Axel reached out to you, but you just shook your head, waving him off. "Don't mind me," you said, patting your cheeks. Zofie instantly stepped to hug you from the side, her head pressed against your chest.

"Who let you grow so much in a week?", you muttered, making everyone let out a chuckle. "I doubt I did," Axel looked down at himself before his eyes met yours. "Yes, you did," you reassured him as he too stepped closer to kiss your cheek. "Put your bags down; wash up if you like before we go," you brushed your fingers over his cheek, earning a smile from him in return. While you had been excited for a family dinner the past couple of days, all of a sudden all you wanted was to lock up the doors and keep your family all in the house. "I'll help him unpack," Zofie beamed. You knew it was less about the unpacking and more about the extra time they could spend together. The two just loved to talk. And since they trusted each other so much, you were sure there was a lot to catch up on. You watched them chasing one another up the steps. The house was once again full of laughter, and footsteps were echoing from the second floor.

You closed your eyes, your hand resting on your chest. "You're okay," Azriel's smooth voice found you before you felt his touch. "Don't ask me that, Azriel or I will cry," you huffed, pressing your lips together as another wave of tears burned your eyes. "Come here," the spymaster pulled you into his embrace, warm palms drawing patterns on your back.

"Mother, strike me. I hate this," you pinched the bridge of your nose as you blinked rapidly, trying to chase the tears away. Azriel snickered, "I think it's adorable." You shot him a glare, muttering a quick, "Shut up." That, of course, earned another wholehearted laugh from him, "See, adorable," to which you had only rolled your eyes. Azriel leaned in, kissing the side of your head. Cheek. Before his lips met yours, slow and gentle affection. That was how your love was now.

"I just want to keep them here forever," you breathed out after a while, "They are not allowed to leave ever." Leaning against your mate's chest, you felt that all overtaking peace and quiet. "And I'm the overprotective one," Azriel teased, but your lack of response and the way your shoulders were tense let him know that today wasn't the day to play around. He pulled you even closer to him as if that were even possible.

"Breathe with me," he muttered softly, resting his forehead against yours. Guiding your breaths once. Twice. A shallow breath in and an extended exhale. "And you," the spymaster muttered, the smile in his voice hard to miss, "You need to stop making mommy so emotional." His scarred palm slowly moved to rub your rather swollen belly. Where the newest addition to the family was growing. A loving touch from its father stirred the baby awake and earned a rather strong kick in return.

"You just said it was cute," you muttered, frowning. "And angry too, please," Azriel leaned closer to the bump as he whispered. You softly hit the back of his head, "You are insufferable." "But you love it," Azriel practically sang. "How are you feeling?", his tone almost immediately switched as he realized that you were up on your feet, so he was guiding you towards the sofa in no time.

"Well, I officially can't see my feet," you chuckled as he pulled out onto his lap, nestling his face in your neck for a couple of nibbles. "You look dazzling pregnant," Azriel stated firmly, making you shake your head. "Yeah, because you are high on fea hormones," you pointed at his chest, but he only shrugged his shoulders.

"How did we get here?", you breathed out, slowly reminiscing on all the years spent together. This was your forever. This home. This family. "Well, when a male puts his...", you hit his chest playfully. "No," you muttered, "With our kids wanting to be out instead of spending the evening with us," because it had been just you four for so long. Well, five. Cordelia had been the most loving mother-in-law ever. And the two kids were over the moon excited to spend time with her. Even now, they always visit. If not together, then by themselves. But she was a huge part of your family. "They are growing up," Azriel said softly, his hand protectively resting on your belly as he no doubt sat here listening to the heartbeat. One of his many hobbies now that you have been pregnant.

"I'm excited to plan their mating ceremony," you blurted out randomly, and Azriel's head turned to you so quickly that you wondered how he didn't get dizzy. "Hold your horses, women," he huffed almost offensively, "No one is walking down any aisle unless I'm the one dragging them off it." Here was the protector. You tried biting your lip, but you simply couldn't hold yourself back. Letting out a genuine laugh. And Azriel's slight frown melted immediately as he moved to brush some of the hair away from your face, "Here's that pretty smile I love so much." Your heart skipped a beat. Still skipped a beat as you felt your cheeks grow crimson. "Stop," you muttered, nestling your head in the crook of your mate's neck. "No way, I vowed to make you happy," Azriel breathed out, kissing the side of your head.

Laughter echoed from above, making your lips curve upward even more. You didn't need to see Azriel's face to know that he too was grinning. Nothing ever beats the sound of home. "Do you know how much I love you?", you pulled away slightly, suddenly desperate to look into his hazy eyes. Azriel cupped your face lovingly, "I do because I love you just as much, sweetheart," he breathed. His velvety lips meet yours. And Mother, you had never been happier for bargaining forever with this man.

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Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace @just-m-2 @thereadinggremlin @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @stressed-reader

[bumblesimagines]

how do you like your eggs?

i'll make us breakfast.

Love Quinn

i'll make us breakfast.

how do you like your eggs?

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

There were always unspoken rules in the workplace that everyone tended to follow. Be kind to customers even if they walk in with only 2 minutes left to spare before closing time; Don't trust your coworkers wholeheartedly even if you speak to them on a near day-to-day basis; The customer is nearly never right but pretend they are unless you want to be written up; Don't fuck your boss even if she's got the prettiest hazel eyes ever seen on a woman and the charm of a Disney princess. 

The rules had been relatively easy to follow at Anavrin the first few weeks. Most of the bitchiest customers (Y/N) dealt with were easily managed by stroking their egos and making them feel completely in the right, even if they demanded to be given a milkshake without any actual milk despite milkshakes not being on the menu to begin with. Anavrin attracted the most annoying types of Los Angeles locals and worse tourists. But the paycheck and exchanging gossip in the break room with Calvin made things worthwhile. 

Until the Quinns returned from some time away with their family and he became a dot on Love Quinn's radar. And boy, was she hard to escape once her sights set on someone.

It started innocent enough. She joked and teased and bantered. She batted her eyelashes and gave that signature Love Quinn smile where she showed off all her pearly whites and her eyes crinkled with pure joy. Her fingers would brush against his, subtle enough to be seen as accidental until it happened far too often. She'd place her hand on his shoulder and press close against his arm to show him something, even going as far as to lean her head against him and gaze up at him through her lashes sometimes. And Christ, some divine being had certainly blessed her with the best of luck because she seemingly appeared out of thin air wherever he went. Or maybe he was just predictable, he wasn't fully sure.

Then came the time when Love wanted to figure out his 'perfect bite.' The perfect meal that would consistently taste heavenly no matter how many times one ate it. (Y/N) had begrudgingly gone along after some begging and heartstring-tugging puppy eyes but he would've been lying if part of him hadn't been curious about Love and how far she'd go with her not-so-subtle flirting. As he ended up learning, his curiosity and her flirting would lead them back to her place where they'd share a glass of wine and spend a long night in her bed.

He stared up at the tall ceiling and felt the sunshine pouring in from the equally tall windows. Everything about Love's home felt big and fancy. From her king-sized bed to the fact she had a walk-in closet and a bathroom the size of a bedroom. With her down-to-earth sweet personality, it was easy to forget her parents were wealthy business owners. He couldn't help but wonder how things would be at the store with the strictly platonic boss-employee relationship shattered into pieces. (Y/N) doubted she'd fire him or make his life worse now that she got what she wanted. Maybe she'd move on to someone else and things would settle back to normalcy.

"Morning, sunshine." She called out from the bathroom doorway and he craned his neck to look at her properly. His eyes immediately fell on the familiar shirt she wore, the only thing she wore, and he raised a brow. Her smile turned cheeky and she pushed herself away from the door, closing the distance and climbing into bed as he sat up against the headboard. Love settled down nicely on his lap and placed her hands on his cheeks before closing that distance as well and kissing him. She tasted of mint and mouthwash. 

"Didn't mean to sleep in." He spoke against her lips, feeling and hearing her chuckle. 

"It's okay, (Y/N). I would've let you sleep in until four if you wanted to." Love cooed warmly and pecked the tip of his nose. Everything felt rather... domestic for a simple one-night stand. "Now that you're up, I'll make us breakfast. How do you like your eggs? Boiled? Fried? Omelet? Scrambled? Or do you want, like, pancakes?" 

"How about... I use the bathroom and we figure that out in the kitchen?" He offered and she smiled again, nodding so eagerly her bun nearly came loose. 

"And then.... maybe we could talk about us?" She asked softly and tilted her head, her sweet hazel eyes making it hard to say anything but yes.

"Definitely."

[kimbapisnotsushi]

Hajime’s nineteenth birthday is the first he spends without his best friend.

They’re far from each other and far from home. It’s strange, Hajime thinks, to no longer be confined by mountains and farm fields. Not that California doesn’t have those things—it’s just . . . different. The air is different. The sunshine is different. The way Americans call him by his first name is different. The fact that the driver’s seat is now on the left side of the car instead of the right is different.

Not having Oikawa Tooru by his side is different. 

It wasn’t like Tooru hadn’t tried. He’d sent Hajime a birthday text at the stroke of midnight, and then they spent two hours FaceTiming each other until Hajime had shooed Tooru off, because he knew that Tooru had practice in a few hours and needed at least some shut-eye. And then Hajime had laid there, in the dark of his apartment, wishing and wanting and aching for something a million miles away.

Five thousand and five-hundred thirty-nine miles, to be specific. Not that Hajime is counting. Not that he’s keeping track of every minute that passes between their time zones, because that would be all kinds of pathetic, and Hajime likes to think he's coping with Tooru's absence much better than that.

Anyways. His nineteenth birthday. Off to a great start, obviously. 

It’s also the first birthday he spends with Ushijima Wakatoshi. If you had told Hajime last year that he’d run into Ushijima at a university in California to speak with Ushijima’s father about internships, he probably wouldn't have believed you. If you had told him he’d be stuck in the backseat of a minivan with Ushijima, cruising through the southern Californian desert to watch the stars on his nineteenth birthday—American pop music cranked high, hot wind grazing his shoulders, the van floor littered with chip crumbs and empty boba cups stuffed in the cupholders, with people he’s barely known for the better part of a week—he definitely wouldn’t have believed you. 

But here he is. Munching on shrimp chips, listening to Ushijima’s friends belt out Fall Out Boy. 

Ushijima’s UCI friends are . . . something. Riding shotgun is Kevin Nguyen—he’s what Ushijima calls a “frat boy” and a “gym bro”, but Kevin seems nice enough, if not overly familiar. Selene Hiraishi wears dramatic eyelashes and nails, and her family has been friends with Utsui since he moved to California, so Ushijima’s known her for some time. Citlaly Torres has about a dozen piercings in her ears and graciously offered to drive for the three-hour trip to the park from the university. Avery Cherent, Hajime was happy to discover, is a fellow Godzilla nerd with short silver-dyed high-top curls. Jaesung Han is never seen without their black bomber jacket and a pair of ripped jeans, and—Hajime has noticed—keeps their eyes on him more than the others seem to do.

They’ve taken to Hajime like ants to a cookie, and Hajime is grateful for it, really. He's grateful for anything that can distract him from that empty, aching tug in his chest. From knowing that he'd wake up lonely, and that today would have been a lonely day if it weren't for these plans.

The road is bumpy, and honestly—Hajime is hesitant to even call it a road. It’s more like a wide stretch of dirt that’s been cleared for cars. Joshua trees—the park’s namesake plant—dot the landscape far into the horizon, sharing ground with desert brush and craggy boulders. Outside the open windows, the sky looks like it’s been brushed with watercolor; deep oranges and purples and pinks bleed from the setting sun like the branches of a river.

Citlaly turns into a pullout, kills the engine, and twists around to grin at everyone. “Made it in one piece. What did I tell you guys?”

“You almost crashed into that Honda Civic right off the freeway,” Kevin says. “‘One piece’, my ass.”

“The One Piece is going to be a far greater treasure than your ass, Kev,” says Avery loftily. “They haven’t gone through six hundred and twenty-eight episodes just for that.”

Jaesung claps Kevin’s shoulder as they clamber out. “Don’t worry, Kev, I think you have a great ass.”

Kevin beams. “Aw, Jae! I think you have a great ass, too!”

“Your friends are weird,” Hajime remarks while he and Ushijima hop out the backseat. “Nice, but weird.”

Ushijima smiles. Before today, Hajime hadn’t even known that was something the guy was capable of doing. “They are, aren’t they?

-- an excerpt from wherever you go in this world (i'll come along), an iwaoi bday fic i really really wanted to finish today but perhaps later this week???