#its sand falling though ur fingers

[love-birds-stuff]

Oagh thinking trisona thoughts

[anaconamor]

u and jude being in the same friend group and ur all together on a trip, though jude has been in love with you since day one and on the first night there u two sleep together, leaving u confused and wishing for more knowing things couldn’t be the same after the special night <3

no one knows - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: request above!

wc: 2.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: hii!! ik i said this would be posted sooner but i got sidetracked (what’s new… also don't hate me i didn't proof read...) ANYWAYS... this does contain small bit of smut so minors dni! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

the soft waves of the hammock you laid on rocked slowly as you stared out into the almost night sky. the different shades of orange now purple and blue, tiny star appearing in the distance, waves hitting the shore making the whole atmosphere just at peace. it was a king day of travel, having missed your first flight due to a delay on the train.

you had arrived last, but it didn’t matter because you were finally with your friends, wanting to make most of the trip you had planned. you changed into a knitted crème color swimsuit, loving how it fit and hugged your figure, accentuating your curves and pushing up your cleavage just right.

everyone inside was asleep, but you couldn’t go to sleep without wanting to watch the night fall. you loved the beach, the smell, the feel of sand, how your hair went to its natural state, and the feeling of freedom. you quickly got distracted by the click of the door opening, footsteps approaching where you were.

“hi,” you squeak as you see jude lean against the palm tree pole, shirtless and wearing similar shorts as your bathing suit. “you okay? you were the last to arrive and your here alone,” jude asked softly not being able to hold back the gulp at how dreamingly your body looked under this ray and light.

“i’m okay… just can’t sleep for some reason,” you stifle a small laugh, “plus i haven’t seen a view like this in so long, i just wanted too see it, i mean take a look.” jude obliged, looking around in a daze at how the night sky looked now. “yeah you’re right… i feel at ease,” jude nodded.

“how come you’re still up? is everything okay with you?” you sat up, propping your elbow and the back of your hand resting on your temple, your full attention on jude. you couldn’t deny but feel a tad bit confused he was here. jude never really spoke to you an when he did it was short and simple. so you wouldn’t be surprised if he made small talk and left.

“jet leg i guess? you’d think after all the constant travel i’d be used to it but it’s always difficult to fall asleep after a long flight for me,” jude explained taking a seat on the wood chair that was by the balcony. you hummed in response, your hand dragging up from your thigh to your hip letting it rest.

you sensed he wanted to tell you more, his fingers tapping against his massive and toned thighs, his eyes adverting from you to the sea. jude wasn’t shy, quite the opposite, and he knew in this moment it was now or never. “do i make you nervous?” you ask slyly, standing and walking over to him. you hated feeling awkward and left out around him, and you needed to know the reason behind it.

jude was a complete different person in his games, in public, around your friends, yet, he treats you so differently which threw you off the edge. jude roamed your eyes from your tanned shiny legs, your curved torso and bust, his heart stammering against his chest as you looked so willingly and utterly beautiful. “or do you just hate me?”

“hate you? why would i hate you?”

“don’t know… you tell me. it’s like this every time we’re around each other. the tension? you can’t even look into my face? you barely speak a word to me? if i’ve done something to offend you, let me know so i can apologize,” you spoke dearly, following his exact movements by roaming your eyes on his figure. legs spread out begging to be touch, abs defined, with veins adorning his arms. jude was fucked, all he could think about was you in this damn bathing suit and the silly theory you made in your head.

hate you? that’s impossible.

“what if i told you it was the opposite? what if i told you i’m infatuated by you?” jude looked up, standing and over towering you, your gaze shifted from confident to shy. your eyes lowering as jude looked down at you. “that when i’m around you all i can think about is you. how you look, smile, talk and walk, smell… it’s so infuriating to be this madly in love with you and not being able to do a thing about it…” jude confessed, drawing the air out of your lungs, like the wind that breezed the night sea.

“i feel like you’re lying to me…” you couldn’t help but say. a hesitance of insecurity, and that’s there’s absolutely no way this man was in love or was confessing any sort of feelings when actions proved otherwise. “why would i lie to you hm? i’m being completely truthful here y/n,” god the way he said your name had you trembling your knees. “you can’t be jude. we’re so different-”

“that’s what you think, and it’s all in your head. tell me this second you don’t feel it? the magnitude sensation for me to approach you? i can see it in your pretty face darling. now it’s you who can’t even look at me? or yet talk,” jude inches closer to you, seeing your chest rapidly raise up and down.

“you’re everything to me… i’ve had to resist myself because i have no idea if you feel the same way. i’d rather love you from a distance than be embarrassed and you not liking me back…” jude traced with his fingertips along your forearm. “don’t you see it? everything i’ve done it’s because of you… i wouldn’t be here if you weren’t y/n. i just want you…” his pleading and vulnerability in his voice had you gulping a response.

“let me show it to you hm? how you make me feel… how you deserved to be treated,” you nodded feeling the heat rise in you. the familiar desire to be wanted, appreciated, touched by a man like jude. “please jude…” you said in a small whimper, looking up where jude had a hungry gazed, lips slightly open. “show me-”

you remembered how cool the wall was when he hit your back against it, kissing you deeply, so messy and hot. how his hands traveled from your side and around your spine, gripping your ass as he ran his tongue down from your jaw and pulse point. you could feel everything, how big jude was, how hot his skin was to your touch, how desperate the need was.

he had dragged you to his room, his lips never leaving yours any second. it was so vivid in your head, how your back pressed against his chest, how his fingers slowly traced your abdomen down to inside your bottoms, his fingers covered by you slick coat, adding the bit-test of pressure on you clit rubbing it in small circles. all you could focus on was the determination and how hot he looked like this.

jude untied the bows from your bottoms, freeing you completely. he felt like he would die any second, this was real and no turning back. he could’ve watched you all night like this. so sensitive with the smallest touch.the familiar burn in your tummy when he sunk into you with a forceful thrust, hips curling and rocking to pleasure waves of emotions, the heat between your legs as he talked you through it all. the flicker in his eyes when you moaned and begged his name, how your nails scratched against his back asking for more and more.

“you belong to me… don’t you forget that y/n…” he kissed you sloppy, pushing one last thrust and spilling into you. it wasn’t just one round, he made sure to take you against the wall, balcony, shower, and the small couch in his room, in many positions too. he wanted to savor the moment like he imagined. this was way better than his dreams and thoughts in his head. you were so tight, so wet, very much made exactly for him.

the heavy weight on top you made you wake up early. you were used to waking up this early, but not with a hot body on top of you. with one eye barely open you looked at the digital clock, showing just before 7am, the whole house quiet. you looked around before your eyes landed on a sleepy jude, tucked between your arm and head nuzzled into your neck.

your heart raced, not being able to control your confused and guilty emotions. last night was real then? not a sick dream in your head or a movie, it had happened here in his room. “oh shit…” you whispered, chest sinking down as your controlled your breathing. you had to get out, feeling a tad stuck and rushed in space. this wasn’t supposed to happen… even though it felt so right. so meant to be.

you had managed to sneak jude to his back without waking him up. his lips pursed and brown drawn in, breathing heavy. you changed quickly back to your bikini, leaving the room how you had remembered. you ran a hand against your hair, the need to throw water in your face to cool the warmth in your cheeks. you weren’t used to this. you never did one night stands or had friends with benefits relationships. if that’s even what it was.

you couldn’t help but think maybe jude was lying to just get into your pants. you had seen how jude was like when around other woman. but you weren’t other woman. you we’re y/n. the shy but outgoing, smart but naive, and overly patient y/n. you didn’t want it be like them, or seen like them either. all you could think of was him. his brown eyes and stupid gentlemen demeanor.

you avoided him anywhere he was or walked in. the only way you could escape and let go of things was this. you weren’t used to this and didn’t have much experience so you did what you were best at which was ignore jude. but even your friends had noticed you were off and that there was a glow to you. drawing attention from everyone and the person who caused it all.

a small part of you did have a twinge of faith… what if he wasn’t lying? what if everything he proved to you last night was exactly how he felt? what if he was madly in love with you? that you were the woman of his dreams? that it wasn’t just sex and there was raw emotions included?

the ghost feeling against your back made you shiver, realizing it was jude who stood behind you, locking you with both arms extending out to cage you in as you cut up fruit. “you left me this morning,” jude spoke into your ear, feeling your weight shift from one foot to another. “i didn’t want anyone to catch us,” you say shaky, making up a lie knowing part of it was true.

“you’re lying to me…”

“am not. let me go… i-i-i need to bring this outside.”

“you are darling, you think i didn’t notice? you can’t even look at me without talking to me, and you’ve ignored me the whole day thinking i haven’t realized that,” jude let you go but followed behind you speaking a little louder. “lower your voice! i haven’t said anything to anyone!” you hiss, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the pool room. “what is it you want from me?” you say pleading.

“i want you! i thought i made that clear last night. not just with sex, but with my confession? before we fell asleep? don’t tell me you forgot that,” you shook your head. “i’m just having trouble to process all this, jude… i feel like we’re making a huge mistake…”

“to whom? to our friends? or to you?” jude asked sincerely. you always seemed to put them first over yourself and jude noticed that. “why would it be a mistake? if at the end of the day what we have is real…”

“jude it’s been one night together between us! look at us now! i can’t risk our group falling if we don’t work out jude! it’s not fair to them, to me and you!” you tried to reason but jude shook his head. he stood up from where he leaned, his broad frame over towering yours again.

“why are you so adamant we won’t work? we’ve barely been given a shot here! you’re overthinking it y/n. they don’t have to know a single thing pretty girl, not unless you don’t want them too.but for once think of what you want and your heart desires. not what your friends say. forget them and for once think about yourself,” jude spoke, grabbing your hands.

“i want us to work more than anything y/n. i’m not lying to you and have never gave you the reason either. i’m a good man y/n. just let me in here,” he poked your heart, seeing a sad smile appear on your face. “we can’t be so quick to judge without even trying! why is it so hard to do that? i just want to be with you, i’ve suffered enough as it is already,” jude was pleading, wanting to do anything to keep you here with him.

“and if we do and i lose you jude? people have walked in and straight out of my life. what if we try and it’s going so well just for us to part? i can’t handle losing someone else i love,” you whimper, tears of exhaustion and pain let out. “imagine me now and then? i’ve always thought what’s best for myself and i’m just confused jude… why me?” your voice sounded strained and from another dimension.

“why not you? you’re perfect y/n. anyone who thinks other wise must have been dropped into their head. you have everything that makes me so drawn to you… your eyes… your smile… your way of being… your hair… your everything. you’re everything i want and i’m willing to prove that to you however you ask. just let me be the man you need pretty girl…” jude rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your jaw as you began to fall deeper into this new wave and world with him.

“no one knows. just me and you jude,” you kissed him feverently. the aching burn in your chest as he kissed you with such devotion and power. you shivered beneath him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him closer. jude let out a small groan gripping your hips and pushing you to his lower body. there was no self-control here, no professionalism. he quickly became your favorite taste, and feeling. just two humans brought together in the most correct and soulmate way.

two humans who had no idea what was ahead of them.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

HAL, HEAR ME OUT !!! ghost coming home to wis wife on Easter, he thought he wouldnt manage to come back home in time, but Price dismisses him earlier, so he decides to surprise her by making a egg hunt for her, something she always said she liked to do when she was little, I KNOW THIS IS A SPECIFIC REQUEST, FEEL FREE TO DENY DEARIE, i just really love easter loool (and simon too)

love ur works, hal ❤

A Good Man

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Synopsis: If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts, allusions to Simon's past & trauma, delving into his psyche, angst, but a lot of fluff, Simon's POV

A/N: I knew I had to get this out before Easter actually came around so here it is early, Anon! This was an adorable request. Enjoy and have a happy holiday! <3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it. 

Skin shredded; showing every tear and rip with a thinly veiled sense of pride along with a detailed description of every bullet wound and burn. Rope tears along the forearms and red stab marks over the visible spine of his back. Tattoos that depict skeletons and war. He couldn’t tell you every life he had ended, but he could name names until his tongue went black and fell off; though he spared you the details. 

Simon Riley was a devil incarnate. Dead-eyed and robust of body. Muscles wound with promised death and the trigger finger to prove it. His life was measured in an hourglass, the sand cascading down like the blood from his knife after a kill; it would stop flowing, one day – abrupt and final. Simon Riley was a demon, a monster. Simon Riley was a Ghost. 

A ghost with an impeccable memory and a deep love for the woman currently on the living room couch. 

The man blinks, slate eyes taking in the steady rise and fall of your chest with a slow melting of his shoulders. He had a doubt that you had planned to fall asleep with the Tv on – or the floor lamp, for that matter. 

Its golden light slipped over your form, and he traced the flow of it as the voice of the news anchor went in one ear and out the other. Gradually, a hand slipped to the balaclava over his head as your lips let loose a grumble, nose nuzzling the feather pillow. 

Simon often found himself watching you sleep when he was home; how your face would lose all tension in those brief intermissions between oblivion and awakeness. When his own nights were restless, it helped to know that at least someone was at ease, especially if it was you. The fabric slips from his tired visage, the mess of blonde locks atop his head sticking this way and that; layered with the gleam of grease. As the black face-paint stains his sockets and spreads with a swipe of a stiff palm, the ever-constant cloud over his head peels back but for a brief moment of peace. 

His bag was still in the foyer, holding three months of dirty clothes and gear hostage in its zipped space; stained, and bloodied. The man himself wasn’t much better. 

It had been a long few months. 

Hooking the balaclava onto the belt of his cargo pants, Simon bends down on an achy knee, a grunt in his throat sounding off like a boar. Scarred fingers go to brush your cheek, though no words exit his mouth, no whispers of adoration. Just a glimmer in his eyes, a release of that furrowed line in the center of his forehead that seemed permanent these days. 

Staring, the faint twitch of his lips is the only tell at all that he was content at all, feeling your skin as a feather would slide over water. He takes down a breath.

There were few instances that Simon fully remembers from his childhood – most displaced in the back of his mind with a barbed wire fence and a door with no keyhole – though there is one he refuses to lock away. His mother. He can’t help it, and before he can stop himself the words are spilling directly from his heart to his mouth. 

Hell, he really must be tired. 

“She’d of loved you, Sweetheart.” It’s like he’s startled by his own voice, head pulling back and walls going back up, but that delicate glimpse was enough. 

A gravel voice and manchester accent bleed together to form some piece of the puzzle that was his pure adoration for you; small cardboard cuts and divots that had been given over to create a picture. Simon Riley was a ghost, yes, the Ghost, but he was never that when he was home. 

He was just Simon to you.

Blue eyes study the small smile that blesses your face when the man runs his fingers into your hair and attentively separates knots; your body unconsciously molding to his touch. With a kiss on your forehead, Simon chooses to not wake you. It’s late, the man reasons, and he knows how hard it is for you to sleep when he’s gone. Almost as hard as it is for him when he can’t feel your weight on the opposite side of the thin mattress he’s cursed with in the barracks. 

Against his better judgment, he’d learned to love your contact; your presence next to him and the way you fit into his arms.

As gently as he’s able, the black ink of his tattooed arm slips under your shoulders, pushing between the cushion and your limp body to lie still. The other hooks around your knees, and with a pause to make sure you weren't going to wake up, Simon lifts you as easily as a piece of paper. Your weight lays comfortingly against his chest, shallow breath hitting his neck and he thinks for a moment just how it was possible to love something more than you can love anyone else that came before. 

“Simon…” Your voice brings goosebumps to his forearms, his fingers tightening over the shirt he now recognizes as his own clothing you. A smirk runs over his face. 

Lips caress his pulse, a nose taking in his scent of canvas and sweat; a tinge of barely restrained corruption, a soul more damaged than a window shattered into a million pieces.

How can you stand it? How could your body instinctively lay into him and give redemption willingly? 

Simon grips you ever closer, using his own body heat to lull you back to oblivion. He didn’t have an answer – probably never would – but that didn’t mean he wasn’t forever grateful. 

But he was a stiff man; a stoic one. 

He slips through the bedroom door, navigating in the dark as if his eyes had built-in night vision, and hums out, “it’s me. Go on – back to sleep now, Love.” 

Air communes with a soft grunt, and Simon watches from the side of his vision as your lids flicker open and closed. As desperate as the fight is, it’s over fairly quickly when he lowers you to the sheets, cupping your head and setting in on the pillow. 

Soft fingers wrap his lower arm, and with trapped breath, Simon watches your lips connect to the pale skin of his wrist before your form once more goes slack; ever the stubborn one to greet him even half-gone. Weak mumbles stuck forming ‘welcome home’ and ‘love you’ on a lead tongue garble to nothingness like a gargoyle’s stone speech. 

“Hmm.” The Lieutenant smirks as the area tingles, preening like a bird. There are many things to say to you, but he settles with a mumbled, “Don’t hog the sheets. Gotta go take care of the mess first, copy?” 

You don’t answer, of course. With a delicate pet on your head, Simon exits the room silently to take a shower and organize his gear; closing the door behind him only halfway so he can still keep an eye on you as he passes. Ever the neat partner, he wouldn’t go to sleep until all were in their proper places – clothes in the washer, knives and various licensed weapons in the nightstand, and paperwork in the office. 

There was a sanctity in this. A way to get rid of the lingering adrenaline of being on Base or in the field – deterioration of the mind but in such a way it would be described as a boil to a simmer. 

All of it is uneventful. 

He enters the kitchen with only a white towel around his waist sometime later, flicking on the lights and running his fingers through his damp hair before bee-lining to the fridge. If there needed to be a list made of the things he loved the most, it would be fairly short – only three. 

One, you, two, the adrenaline rush of a good deployment, and, finally, your food.  

Simon would listen to Johnny’s rambling for days if it ended with an excellent heaping plate of whatever you cooked for supper.

Opening the fridge, the man’s eyes widen, shimmering with azure glass.

“Fuckin’ hell, Sunshine,” he breathes to himself, hand reaching inside the box with fervor, “you’ve been busy, then, eh…? Bloody feast in ‘ere.” 

The Lieutenant drags out a heaping plate of steak and potatoes – a side of greens covered in plastic and a sticky note on top. 

‘Save for Simon.’ 

The food didn’t look older than a day or two…did you save him some of your meals every once and a while just in case he would show up?

He grunts, re-reading your chicken scratch with a swelling of his chest and a foreign heat on his cheeks. Simon moves to the oven, preheating it and placing a cooling rack on a metal pan over parchment paper. Damned if the man would mess up your masterpiece; he’d reheat it properly. 

With minimal noise, he waits for the meat to be done and settles on placing the potatoes in the microwave with the greens for time's sake. Standing in the kitchen, his eyes gradually fall closed, their weight heavy. But his ears perk at the faint pitter-patter of bare feet. 

The sneaking arms around his waist don’t startle him, and with a sigh on his lips, Simon feels you melt into the curve of his open skin. A head connecting with his spine. 

“Thought I brought you back to bed?” He whispers, flesh melding to you like hot iron, a scarred hand resting over the one that’s on his abdomen. 

Your nose nestles into the burns over his back, and even if you couldn’t see it – the sudden sweep of vulnerability is nearly heard. You lay a kiss and think no more of it, but Simon shivers with beautiful agony; eyes gazing off.

“...Erm,” you groan, fingers tracing the build of his ribs, “needed to hold you.” Your breath stills – half-asleep. “You’re…here?”  

Simon chuckles, hearing it echo off the walls.

“I’m ‘ere, Love. Few more bloody cuts,” he breathes, “but I’m here.” 

“Good. Missed you.” A second of kisses and distant blue eyes. Muffled yawns into his flesh. “Didn’t think you’d be back in time for Easter.” 

Simon twists, aware of the delicate fold of his towel, and lifts your fatigued form onto the counter, settling you down so you don’t fall sideways. He blinks down at you, cupping your cheek when your neck gets too heavy to hold up. Your lids rapidly move, your nose scrunched at the overhead light and the man knows you’re only awake because he’s home. 

He utters out to you, faces close, “The Old Man let me off early,” and lays a peck to your forehead, holding his lips there for a long second. Mutters into your skin, “prickly bastard’s been antsy – hasn’t had a good drink in weeks. Was about ready to strangle someone.”

She’s warm.

His body slots itself between your legs, one arm around your back and the other placed on the counter. Simon’s forehead falls to your shoulder, and with a groan of satisfaction, he feels your fingers go through his locks; itching at his scalp dreamily. 

“...Dunno whether to thank him or send ‘em to a therapist.” You whisper, kissing his neck, unable to keep your hands off each other for a mere second. 

“Better to place money on the both.” His grumbled words are barely heard. “I’ve got two weeks ‘fore they need me back.” 

A soft hum is all he gets before the timer goes off and he takes down a breath, forcing himself to peel back from you and grab his supper. 

By the time the both of you are in bed, he’d nearly forgotten about your comment, and as he stroked your hair and felt you bring him closer under the covers, he remembers. He’d asked Price to give him two weeks on account of the holiday you’d loved so much – Easter – and had used the Captain's deteriorating attitude as a pry. It had been easy enough, the two had known each other for a long time. They knew their breaking points. 

Sometimes living around a handful of other men formed unbreakable bonds of brotherhood, and while that was true for 141, it was also a pain in the ass. People long for home at the end of it – a soft touch and sweet kisses. There’s only so long you can go with yelling orders into the same faces and playing Poker in a shitty safehouse.

Simon never thought he’d be worthy of it, a home, but here he is regardless and here he would stay. And he knew Easter was your favorite time of the year, and he also knew that Easter was…tomorrow. His dead eyes widened. 

The plan formed quickly, his strategic mind helping as it always does, and as he snuck out of bed and laid his lips to yours in a tiny kiss, a shirt was tossed on along with boxers. You never heard the door to the garage door opening, just snuggled back up to the pillow and an old t-shirt he’d placed in his spot instead; inhaling his calming scent.

—

When the sun had risen an hour ago and Simon had finished with heavy fingers. Groaning, the back of a hand meets a forehead, trying to swipe away sleepiness as one would a fly. But he says nothing, feet hitting the floor as he enters the kitchen, an object held in his palm that was quickly stashed in the breadbox.

This was childish, he knew, not at all like the deadly Lieutenant of TF-141. Like Ghost. The boys would tease him relentlessly if they found out.

“Simon…?” Your voice draws him back, and with a look over his shoulders, he finds you wrapped in the comforter like a mouse. “What are you doing out here?” 

The lie comes easily.

“Fixin’ breakfast.” Your eyes flicker to the open breadbox, eyebrows furrowing. A smirk grows and you walk over with a laugh living in your expression. 

“I don’t even trust you to toast bread, Love, go sit down. You’ve been stuck on rations for too long.” Simon only steps back, gazing over your head and seeing your hand pause. “I’ll make us some…” 

He watches as he loves to do, memorizing the parting of your lips and the recognition lighting like a shy fire. The man smiles then, and it is a delicate thing; an expression not tainted with sarcasm or deception. 

Your hand delves into the box and pulls out a plastic egg softly as if it would snap in two. 

It’s cheap, made of thin plastic and fading in colors of the shade of pastel pink. Chipping. There’s nothing inside of it, just a bare piece of holiday joy that never meant too much to anyone beyond children. But with how you’re staring up at him, Simon thinks all the searching in the bins from the garage was worth it. 

“What’s this?” Your voice wraps him close, and your hand holds the object close. Simon shrugs, digging deep into your vision. 

“I’ve the faintest idea, Sunshine.” The giggle flies to his cold heart and he pulls you to his chest to still the raging of it. “My guess,” he raises a stiff brow, “intruder broke in, yeah?” 

“Did this intruder have ears and a pink nose?” You ask, noses brushing. “A hop in his step, maybe?” 

“Hell if I know,” Simon grunts, eyes flickering away before he can break before you. “Best get my gun just in case – you’ll ‘ave to find the rest ‘o the bastard things, though.”

You kiss him then, and he captures the back of your head, holding you to him as if you’d disappear if he let go. He doesn't know what you did to possess him so, to make his thoughts be only of you even when he’s halfway around the world. Were you an angel? A shred of light made physical? Perhaps an embodiment of all the good in the universe? 

Simon had no answer, as he usually did when it came to you, and you sighed into him, whispering redemption to his soul. 

You said you loved him, and he said it back with every ounce of him that was untouched by death. And then you pulled from him with a laugh that could throw away darkness and disappeared with promises of finding the remaining eggs. Like a loyal hound of hell, Simon followed, pulling on the comforter to slow you down so you don’t trip. He would always follow.

The vision of a good life starts with a view of the present. Who you choose to care about; how you make meaning of nothing but a shared morning and a memory of youth. Simon does not remember much of his childhood. Most of the memories are displaced in the back of his mind with a barbed wire fence and a door with no keyhole. Cast away. 

Coated in fear and lies.

Some days he asks how he can still call himself Simon Riley – it’s the name of a dead man, after all…and then he looks at your beaming face, and his question is answered as fast as it was thought up. 

You deserve Simon Riley, not Ghost. Not a devil incarnate or Dead-eyed. A demon, or a monster. If there was even a shred of purity left in him, that was what he knew beyond doubt. 

Simon Riley was selfish, he admitted, and he was loathed to leave you…so here he would stay. Hiding easter eggs and giving veiled hints when you were close to one near the planted flowers in the backyard. There was a simplicity that the man bathed in – the blatant enjoyment of a plain life. 

With a chuckle in the back of his throat, Simon pushes off the back porch and makes a comment about how you were closer to the dead bird you had buried in the garden bed than an egg. A flick of your middle finger leaves him smirking, and he splays a hand over your back, angling your body farther north. The kiss left on his stubbled cheek makes him warmer than he wants to admit; cold eyes soften.

If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it…but he was trying to be damn near close. Until then, the ring he had bought would stay in his office.

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@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @shoe1412, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @john-pricee, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce

[fluffallamaful]

hullooo llama :D

i wanted to send in a lee ler n a spot for a ficlet

i wanna see lee dreamxd with any ler of ur choice [the ler rly to me doesnt matter i just wanna see lee dreamxd in general, if the ler is needed tho then dream or georgehd]

so i follow the headcanon that dreamxd can have as many arms as he wants but chooses to have four arms [got from covenofwives]

and i imagine those arms to be like EXTREMELY ticklish along with his underarms of each set

so the spot[s] i was thinking of was arms & underarms

/nf btw, u can do if u want but u dont have to ^^

thnxx! :D

-slime

prompt from this post

went with ler!Sapnap4K hope that’s ok, he’s heavily inspired by @covenofwives

🦙🦙🦙…

DreamXD realised his mistake as soon as the larger, fiery god straddled him, a rather toothy grin baring down at him and accompanying its owner’s fire-red eyes of amusement. He let out a snarl as they a chuckled above him.

“You ready? Armpits right?” Sapnap4K confirmed, the simple question evoking a shiver to dance its way down XD’s spine. The god and him had traded their worst tickle spots… somehow… XD was still a little foggy on the details, but he was now most definitely beginning to regret it.

He managed only a reluctant head nod in response to the god’s question.

“And green?” 4K continued, his voice dropping to a tone of sincerity and understanding, though his fingers cracked and popped just above DreamXD’s torso as he stretched them out. Another shiver journeyed it’s way back up the masked god’s spine, crawling up to his cheeks in no doubt the form of a blush.

“Yes.” He twitched. Sapnap4K wasted no more time that that.

In only a split second he had collected up XD’s lower wrists in his one of his large hands, using his other free one to knead an equally large thumb roughly into the hollow of XD’s lower-right armpit.

“WAHAHAIT FOHOHOHOUR KAHAY!!” DreamXD bellowed, instantly howling out surpised laughter into the soul sand valley that surrounded them. They were quickly able to pinpoint the wildly unfamiliar feeling of not being able to fight back. XD’s wrists remained held tightly in the larger god’s unfailing grasp — no matter how hard he tugged — and when his other two hands did try to put an end to the electrifying feeling that the kneading fingers, they too were rounded up and bunched together with the rest. XD had never felt this helpless.

“Oh-hohoh!! Your armpits are tickly!!” The nether-god admired, switching his technique from kneading to skittering. XD’s body convulsed below, falling into a panicked squirm as 4K’s nails danced over his undeniably ticklish skin. The shrill cry of the protector’s safe word followed only shortly afterwards.

🦙🦙🦙…

[pascalpanic]

hi i love ur writing so much!! can i request something with mutual pining, denial of feelings, idiots-to-lovers, hurt/comfort/angst , maybe some jealousy and fluff and smut if you want i just need something really angsty with javier peña, frankie m or din djarin?? tysmm!!!!!

The Bantha (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Being an animal lover does not work well with the plans the Tuskens and Mos Pelgo citizens have to kill the krayt dragon. A retelling of S2E1 of the Mandalorian: The Marshal.

W/C: 4.4K

Warnings: talk of animals being harmed/dying, lots of arguing and angst, Vanth kind of is gross bc I hate his character aha, we respect the Tuskens in this house and use proper terminology for them, language, tiniest mentions of alcohol

A/N: Not gonna lie, the idea for this fic came to me pretty quickly but it took me a long time to properly figure it out. Lots of drafting and editing so THANK YOU to my beta readers, you’re all the best ever!! Anon, I’m so sorry this took so long but I hope it’s worth it!

Of all the dilemmas you’d expected to face as you traveled the galaxy with a tiny, Force-sensitive, 50-year-old toddler and a Mandalorian with the emotional capacity of the earlier-mentioned child, the last one you’d ever predicted you’d face had to be the challenge of ridding a tiny desert town of a giant sand beast that eats their banthas.

“You are so fucking dense,” you groan as you and Din settle on a speeder bike, the little green child tucked in a wrap on your chest. “You’re a Mandalorian, a battle-worn bounty hunter with a kill streak probably in the thousands, and some random man asks for your help and not only do you fucking freely give it, you decide to help them kill the sand dragon terrorizing their town.” You groan to him, rubbing your temples.

Din nods and starts up the speeder bike. “You don’t need to summarize what we just lived through,” he grunts and you wrap an arm around him.

“I do, because I need to clarify that your dumb ass would do that. Sometimes I really do think you don’t have a brain under that beskar bucket,” you shake your head, trying to keep the anger that you’re feeling. If you’re not careful, it’ll turn to adoration and love.

You’ve been battling your feelings for Din for a while now, trying to force the giddiness bubbling in your chest deep down inside. The man is everything you look for in a partner: strong, committed, tall, protective. He’s good with the child, adorably cuddly and loving. He’s even funny sometimes, making dry-humored remarks around the ship.

“Excuse me for caring,” the man grumbles through the modulator. He’s strong and warm beneath your arms, the Tatooine heat making the beskar warm like your bunk in the morning when you don’t want to get up. Stop it, stop it you remind yourself. This is not the time to be enraptured by the Mandalorian man’s body.

That’s yet another trait you love about him- how caring he is. He’s a bounty hunter, a warrior by oath who never shows his face and probably knows millions of ways to kill someone with his bare hands. Yet he cares. He raises the child well; he even raised him alone before you came into the picture. He puts himself in harm’s way for innocent people on the daily, all because he simply thinks it’s right.

You take a sip from your water canteen and hand it to the baby on your chest so he can drink too. “No, I will not excuse you for caring when you’re doing stupid shit, Din,” you scowl and cap the canteen as two three-fingered green hands give it back to you. “You came here- we came here, our family did, to find Mandalorians. There are none.”

“This man will give me his beskar if we help,” Din hisses, revving the engine of the speeder, non-verbally telling Vanth to get moving. The man is dawdling along, a few meters away, as he packs his bike up.

“What do you need it for, huh?” You ask him, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “I’m not a Mandalorian. This little shit doesn’t need beskar. You have a full set of armor already.”

“Beskar belongs to me, to my people, by my Creed,” he says, articulating himself with his hands too. It’s a habit he’s picked up from you. “You wouldn’t ask a Tatooinian to deprive themselves of the moisture they farm.”

You put your face in your hands and groan. “No, you’re right, because they fucking need water to live. You do not need beskar to survive, Din!” You shout, getting off the speeder bike. “And please, forget I called us a family. We’re clearly just a bounty hunter and his… assistant, whatever the fuck I am, and some little kid we picked up for the ride.” You stalk off towards the building.

“Where are you going?” He asks as you turn.

Cobb is standing to the side somewhere, and you approach him. “You got another speeder? I don’t want to put up with him for the ride.”

The man chuckles and claps your shoulder. “Sure thing, pretty thing.” He wanders off and returns about a minute later with another speeder. Din watches the two of you in annoyance, visible from his rigid body language. “Hop on. You know how to drive?” You nod once and he heads to his own speeder. “I’ll lead. You two follow.”

-

The ride is uneventful at first. Cobb Vanth tells the two of you the story of how he came to be the town marshal, and Din nods his silent comprehension when the man in beskar looks over at him. Most of the stories are aimed at you, desperate to crack your stony anger. It doesn’t work. You stare straight ahead, daring to break your frown into a neutral expression when the little green baby coos excitedly at the wind in his ears.

There are valleys and caverns to navigate through, nimbly ducking and weaving on your speeder bike. The kid loves it, squealing happily when you fly over a bump or turn a sharp corner. It’s a joyride to him.

When Din and Vanth suddenly stop your ride, you panic, holding the child close against your chest. From your holster, you grab your weapon and stand next to the two men. The growling noises are revealed to be massiffs, huge dog-like lizards. You squeal in delight, immediately dropping to your knees and summoning the beast in Tusken.

“What in the hell is she doin’?” Vanth mutters to Din as the big animal comes bounding toward you.

“She’s always like this with animals. Thinks they’re all big puppies,” Din rolls his eyes but can’t help himself: he smiles beneath his helmet as the beast licks your face and you scratch its sides.

You’re such a wonderful person, Din sighs, even though he’s mad at you. You’ve always been amazing with other species, like massiffs and the little green child strapped to your chest. You’re so intelligent too: speaking seemingly endless languages.

“They are big puppies!” You coo and press a kiss to the forehead of one massiff. Another finds Din, who also bends down to give it scratches and attention. “Green bean, look!” You tell the child and put out his hand for the massiff to lick. “See? They’re our friends,” you tell him, admiring the way the little green child giggles at the scaly skin.

From around a corner, a Tusken appears, then several. You stand and lower your weapon, speaking to them first in their native language. “We mean no harm. You have beautiful massiffs,” you tell them then turn to Din and Vanth. “Drop the weapons.”

“Are you crazy?” Vanth shouts.

“We are here to put an end to the krayt dragon,” you explain to them in their language. “Your assistance and knowledge would certainly help us. You want it gone too, yes?”

They affirm you that it’s a yes, and you nod back at the men. You know Din understands. “They’re willing to help if you’ll stop being a douchebag.” Vanth starts to talk but you hold up a hand and cut him off. “I know, I know. We can strike a deal. Are you willing?”

Din’s heart is nearly exploding. In any other timeline, he’d be the one conducting negotiations, using his threat as a Mandalorian to run the show. But here you are, with your gentle nature, making deals and completing them through cooperation and kindness. It’s hard to speak in a soft tone when speaking Tusken, yet you can do it. All with a baby strapped to your chest. Maker, Din thinks, he might be in love with you.

Vanth sighs a few moments later. “Why the hell not?”

-

Din talks with the Tuskens for a while at the camp, planning and negotiating as night falls and the air starts to get cold. To entertain the child, you spend time with the banthas, brushing their fur and letting the baby get exposed to the animals.

The kid loves them. He coos happily as he strokes their thick fur, giggling as one of them gives him a kiss and covers him in slime. You wash him off and return, quietly talking with the Tuskens caring for the creatures.

You’ve taken a liking to them. They’re gentle and soft, like big lumbering puppies, really. They moo when you brush their fur just right, let their eyes slip shut when you scratch them between the eyes. You’ve always had a soft spot for animals, like Din said earlier.

Cobb likes you. That much is clear from the way he finds you when he’s not working with Din and the Tuskens, bringing you food and water as you and the child mind your business. He’s overly flirtatious, to the point of annoyance. He’s rude and crude about the Tuskens, calling them words you’d never use to describe a human.

Politely excusing yourself, you allow the child to run with some of the other Tuskens’ children and spot a silver-plated man sitting by the fire.

“Vanth is such a goddamn xenophobe,” you grumble as you sit down next to the fire with Din, the child off playing with some Tusken children. He’d ranted about the Tuskens as you rode with them, luckily in Basic so that the people couldn’t understand him.

“Thought you liked him,” Din says and cocks his head. “He certainly likes you.”

You roll your eyes and sip the canteen of water, looking at the crackling fire. “Those things are not mutually exclusive,” you chuckle, looking over at him. “What, are you jealous, tin can?” You tease and knock on his beskar pauldron.

“In your dreams, cyar’ika,” he teases. It’s clear to him that whatever tension had been between the two of you earlier has dissipated, enough for him to steal the water flask from your hand and pass it to the child as he toddles past.

“I was drinking that, you fucking bantha,” you laugh and smack him on an unarmored part of his arm. The Tatooinian desert gets cold at night, you find, and you pull into yourself a little more from the cold.

Din unclips his cape and drapes it over your shoulders, tucking it in beneath where your arms press against your ribs so that it wraps tight to your body. “Hm. You do have a heart under there,” you tease and sigh, naturally leaning against Din and resting your head on his shoulder pauldron.

“So it’s been said,” he nods and even dares to rest his head on top of yours. Through the bare spots in his beskar, he can feel the way your body radiates warmth into the chilly night. You spot a little green head toddling past again, much slower than the other children thanks to his tiny legs, and Din scoops him up.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur quietly, the roar of the Tuskens’ conversations creating a soft hum around you. “For what I said, when I yelled at you. You’re right. You really are just caring for them.”

He nods. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I’m more sorry for saying we aren’t a family. I mean, we are, right? Not that we’re like, a couple or anything,” you say hurriedly, your voice low as you stumble over your words. “But you and this little womp rat…” you muse as you scratch the baby’s little green head. “You are my family. That much is clear to me.”

Din nods once more. “I agree.”

You smile up at him. “What’s going on under that bucket, huh?”

He turns, looking off. “Just going over the plans for how we’re going to get that krayt dragon.”

“Ooh, share,” you ask, taking one of his hands and lacing through his glove-covered fingers. “I didn’t mean it when we said all of this for some banthas, you know. I’ve really fallen in love with them lately.”

Din is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t answer. “Din?”

He knows you’re going to hate him for this. Your big heart, your animal-loving, sweet talking kindness is not going be okay with this, but he has to tell you the truth. “We’re going to have to sacrifice some of the banthas for this mission to work.”

“What?” You exclaim, dropping his hand. “You can’t possibly do that.”

“We have to. We need to lure the dragon.”

“Do it some other way!” You frown, looking over at the big soft desert cows. “Seriously, please, Din.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “They’re not sentient.”

“But they can feel!” You exclaim again, standing. “Fuck this. Why don’t you sacrifice yourself to the krayt dragon and see how that feels?” You shout, storming off. You’re aware it’s childish, but you stomp to your tent and lie down. You close your eyes and hope Din doesn’t come to find you.

-

Of course you didn’t mean it. Of course you didn’t want Din to sacrifice himself to the krayt dragon. So why is he doing it? Why are you on your knees, screaming to the sky that he did exactly what you said?

You’d been avoiding him since that night, since you showed vulnerability and subsequently returned to anger towards the man. You’d wanted to apologize, but you couldn’t get over the sacrificing of the animals for the cause. You just couldn’t.

Din had flown straight into the sand dragon’s mouth, just seconds ago, and is now deep inside its bowels, you’re sure. You clutch the baby to your chest and wail, agonized and terrified. Vanth stands at your side, a hand resting on your shoulder as you wheeze and sob.

But this is Din. He must have a plan.  He has to have a plan; he’s a battle-worn warrior and you’ve never seen him lose a fight. You’d stormed off before you could hear the rest of his plans the other night- maybe this was part of it. But the way Vanth stares at the dragon in terror makes you think that maybe it isn’t. Maybe Din just really fucked it up. You set the little green kid in his cradle and stand, sniffling and clinging to the metal sphere as if it’s your last lifeline to Din.

Suddenly, there’s a burst of green goo and out flies a shining silver rocket: it’s Din. “Oh thank the fucking Maker,” you shout as he lands not far from your small group, the wailing and dying sand beast behind him.

He’s covered in slime, but you’ve never been so happy to see the man. You rush to him and throw your arms around him, not giving a single fuck as you jump on him. “Please, never fucking do that again,” you wheeze into his cape, getting yourself covered in slime.

The hug is not comfortable. Din is all beskar where you want to feel his strong body, but it’s all worth it when he wraps his arms around you too. You’re crying, he knows it, and he knows just why. “I didn’t do it because you said it. You know that, right?”

You let go of him, sniffling and wiping your eyes. “Yeah. I was just so scared- oh Maker, Din, I can’t fucking lose you,” you admit, freely crying now. “I love you, I really do, and I can’t-“

“How?”

You look at him in confusion.

“How do you love me?”

This damn man. He’s full of surprises, just getting literally eaten alive by a krayt dragon, and now he’s asking you for a full emotional confession. You’re still reeling from the shock, but the fact that he’s there is enough. You don’t care that Cobb is definitely listening over your shoulder. “Every way. All of them. Romantic, friendship, family. You feel like my home and I want to be with you.” No better time than now, you suppose, to admit this all.

Din walks a step closer. “Romantic. Huh.”

“I hate that fucking helmet,” you admit, trying to deflect the emotion between the two of you. “I can never see your face. Can’t know what you’re thinking, your tone, your-“

Din cuts you off. “We ride back to the village and clean up. Meet me in the home as the suns set.”

What that means, you have no clue, but you nod. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” you murmur, putting a hand on the cut-out cheek of his helmet.

-

The town rejoices when you come back, shouting and celebrating over the dragon’s death and the plentiful meat that came with the creature. You’d joined in the reverie, taking a shot of spotchka and chanting along to a Tatooinian call-and-response they’d started. It was wonderful, really, and you and the little green thing were the stars. They admired the little green thing, cooing over him. You were proud to stand there as his mother.

The party died as the suns set. Din was notably absent from the hubbub, preferring to be alone as usual. You and the kid talked with the villagers, but as the suns started to sink, you excused yourself and found your way to the spare home you and Din each had rooms in.

Vanth and the women had taken the baby when you told them you were going to talk with Din. Not that it was hard: they all loved the little beast, showered him with affection. It was practically a competition over who got to play with him most.

The building has a warm glow as you wander over to it, wrapping your arms around yourself. The night has become cold now that the two harsh suns have sunk below the horizon, and it’s a relief to open the door to the home and feel the warmth radiating from a fireplace inside.

You find Din staring out of a window on the back, watching the endless wind sweep across the sand dunes, a dark sky contrasting the golden ground. Just his silhouette is visible, black against the deep blue. “Hi,” you say quietly as you walk in, the worn floorboards creaking beneath your feet no matter how deliberately you step. “Glad to see you got cleaned up.”

The man tilts his head in an obvious eye roll, even through the helmet. The slime was disgusting, although Din’s adoptive son had seemed to enjoy the gooey texture, as little ones are prone to. “I almost died and you’re already back to the sarcasm.”

“It’s called a coping mechanism,” you laugh gently and place a hand on his shoulder. There’s no beskar there, just soft fabric warmed by his body. It makes you shiver; even in the safety of the Crest, Din never takes off the armor. You wonder why it’s gone. Maybe to clean it?

Din’s quiet for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers splayed over his shoulder in such an affectionate gesture. “You know how much I trust you, don’t you?” He asks and the black visor turns toward you, admiring what’s visible of your face in the moonlight. Your eyes glimmer and he admires them, the color he’s always loved.

You nod and smile just a little, cheeks growing rounder with the movement. “Of course.” He’s trusted you with his son, the most important thing to him in the galaxy. There’s one clear gesture even now: the absence of the beskar from his form. Maker, he’s broad, shoulders just as wide as with the metal.

He nods and shuts the window’s shutters, allowing even less light in before turning to you. There’s just a soft glow in the room, outlining the shape of the helmet and his shoulders. You can’t see any detail, just the shape. He walks over towards the long comfortable seating in the middle of the room and you instinctively follow, standing in front of it and stopping when he stops, facing him. His hands find your shoulders and his fingertips brush down your arms until they find yours. “Take off my helmet.”

“What? No,” you exclaim, frowning even though he can’t see it.

“Can you see anything?” He asks, a hand gesturing, an even darker shadow through the already murky visibility.

“No.”

“My Creed says you cannot see my face. Not that I can’t remove the helmet.”

You gulp hard, your fingers lacing through his. They’re bare. You’ve never felt them before. Often you’ve wondered if they’re calloused and tough from his work, soft from being hidden beneath the soft leather for all those years, or somewhere in between. They do fall into that in between, but they’re warm and strong and large, even without the leather casing them.

“I can’t do that to you,” you shudder, squeezing his fingers. “It’s the very thing about you, that you can’t take it off,” you start to ramble. You want to, desperately, but there’s no turning back now. If you feel his face, if you’re even so lucky as to kiss him, you’ll never be able to get enough of it. You’ll be subjected to an eternity of longing, even more than you’re yearning now.

“I want you to,” he breathes, his beskar-covered forehead falling against yours. “Please, cyare.”

“Why don’t you hate me?” You ask, your voice straining. You need to keep stalling, need to keep pushing it off or you’re actually going to do it. “I’m so mean to you. All the time,” you point out to him. You do it to keep him away, but he’s persistent. He never seems to care. “All we do is argue.”

“I may not be able to use the Force like the kid,” he mumbles, bringing one hand up to cup your face. “But I can sense your feelings. You don’t hide them well.”

“Din,” you plead, biting your lip and closing your eyes to prevent the tears that are threatening to well in them. “You can’t do this.”

“I can, and I want to.”

“Why are you so fucking patient with me when I’m only ever a bitch to you?” You practically wail, half annoyed and half honored. “You’re such a good man, Din. You don’t deserve someone shitty like me. I’ve got no hunting skills, I’m too stubborn, I’m mean and-”

He stops you by lifting your hands, setting them on either side of his helmet. “You can’t see me, so it doesn’t break the Creed. I want you to do this, because I want you.” He’s eternally blunt, but in this moment you can’t tell if it’s breaking your heart or warming it. “I love you too. Please. Take it off.”

“This is your last fucking chance, Djarin,” you tell him with a wavering voice.

“Cyare.”

“Okay,” you nod and take a deep breath. Din unlatches the little bit at the bottom that keeps it sealed against his head, and there’s a soft rush of air. Your hands grip either side and you slowly lift it off. Din takes it once it’s gone and rests it on the plush seat.

Your hands are drawn to his face like you’re being pulled on a string, your skin prickling as you feel the stubble along his chin and jaw. Your fingers trace his face for a few moments, exploring the new terrain. His cheeks feel hot, and his lips make you shiver again with how soft they are. Swallowing hard, you dare to look at his silhouette, noticing his hair is mostly matted down from the helmet. “What color are your eyes, Din?”

“Brown.”

You smile at that, and you rest your head against his shoulder, your hands dropping to your sides. His arms encircle you and it feels perfect, like you were meant to be like this for all of eternity and it took you long enough. “Of course they are.”

He chuckles at that and presses a kiss into your head, his hands finding your waist. “I did take this off for a reason.”

You lift your head, looking at his just-visible shape. “Really? I don’t know what you mean,” you flirt.

He’s silent. You’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, absolutely certain. “May I kiss you?”

The words are ever blunt, just like Din. “Yes, you bantha,” you tease, but the laughter is gone as his hands find your face again.

Just like that, his lips are on yours, radiating heat and love and it immediately tops the feeling of his arms around you. You gasp, not expecting him to do it so quickly, but your lips quickly meld to his and you sigh in content.

You stay like that for a while, hands traveling each other’s heads and necks and shoulders and sides as you kiss. He’s so warm and strong, his muscles just as sculpted as the indestructible metal that covers him. He’s so human.

After a bit, Din breaks away and presses his forehead to yours once more. He doesn’t speak, just rests there, his hands on your waist. His breath mingles with yours. For once, you’re speechless, unsure of what you can say back. The sarcasm has been stripped from your body like the beskar from Din’s.

“I better put the helmet back on,” he murmurs.

“Please don’t,” you whisper, tucking your face into the curve of his neck. You sit on the couch and he follows, desperate not to lose your touch. “Just… we’ll stay like this.”

He nods. He can’t say no when you kiss his neck feather-lightly, when your skin is pressed to his like this. He hasn’t had contact like this in years. He’ll prolong it as long as he can.

You do stay like that, relaxed and curled into each other. His arm wraps around you and you curl into a ball, nestled into his side. It’s been a long day for Din, you know, but the depth of it occurs to you as his breathing slows and his muscles relax.

He’s fallen asleep in your arms. You press a soft kiss to his neck and set a timer on the wrist-comm you’re wearing, so that you’ll both wake while it’s still dark in the room. For now, he deserves his rest. His face nuzzles into your hair, and he gives a soft sigh in his sleep. Yes, this is exactly what the beskar warrior needed: rest and you.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles

[monpalace]

epel woke with a start, breath uneven as he rested the weight of his upper body on his forearms. his eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. they struggled even more when he picks up his phone to check the time.

3.24am

the boy laid back with mixed whine and groan. his throat felt as though it were the land of the hot sands, he couldn't even gather any saliva to coat it.

rook would catch him in a heartbeat if he were to even open his door and vil would chew him out until his ears bled once the former told him he tried to sneak out.

unable to think of any other solution, epel threw his bedsheets off of his legs and swung them onto the floor.

he stands and grabs one of the apples that sat in the box at the foot of his bed. leaning over, the lilac haired teen grabs his phone as he takes a bite from the fruit. he scrolls down through his contacts until he reaches the one he was looking for.

hey, u up? he hesitates on pressing send, finger hovering over the button.

the send receipt says that the text was seen not long after he sent it. whats up?? u know vil would have ur head if he found out u were still awake lol.

r u good to call? smth happened, he answers as he takes the final bite of his apple. its cool if ur not. its not that important lmao.

nah ur good. just let me get out of this room. i dont wanna hear grim complain abt me wakin him up.

epel stands to toss his apple core in the trash and grab his earbuds. not long after, his phone begins vibrating in his hand. he swipes thumb over the call button and is greeted by a voice.

"hey," you hum as some shifting comes from your end of the call. a noise comes from epel's side, telling you that he had muted himself. "didn't think you as the type to stay up this late."

the boy's fingers begin furiously typing to respond to you. m not. vil wouldn't let me. just woke up outta nowhere, yknow?

you hum once again. "was it a nightmare or something? i thought you braver than that, young man." your voice was hoarse as you teased him.

Are you patronizing me? epel questions, changing his tone in the text to try and scare you.

"chill out kid," your voice was light as you defend yourself. "you know i like pullin' your leg kid."

the conversation continued for the next couple of hours. epel hadn't meant to call you for so long, only thirty minutes at the most. your voice became harder to comprehend the longer the call went on and he made that known.

hah?? the teen sends after a long minute of searching and deleting the right letters.

though he couldn't see you, he could hear the lift of your eyebrow. "is that you trying to tell me you wanna hang up?"

nhmm, epel is quick to respond. fall asleep on call?? if not its aight.

"that's fine with me, just make sure you go to bed soon."

epel wasn't sure when he fell asleep during the night, but when woke up he could hear your soft breathing through his headphones. arching his back, the teen stretches and lets out a quiet but quickly lays back down when he heard voices outside his door.

"it's unbelievable that he's still asleep." a voice he recognizes as vil's.

"i'm sure he's awake, just not out of the bed yet." a voice he recognizes as rook's.

vil scoffs as he moves to place his hand on the doorknob to peek inside the teen's room. "luckily for him, this is a learning opportunity."

"roi du poison, please," rook hums, placing his hand over the dorm leader's. "allow monsieur cherry apple to sleep in. besides, it's the weekend. he's worked hard during the week. he deserves this."

sucking his tongue, the taller of the two pulls the door closed and turns on his heel before he begins walking off. "then let's be on our way, we have better ways to spend our time rather than wait for that baby potato to wake up." vil hums with a flick of his wrist, motioning for rook to follow after.

the hunter dutifully does as told, humming happily to the dorm leader as he catches up

[missturtleduck]

hi i saw ur requests were open and i would love if u could do a sokka x reader :) where reader is really shy and he likes to tease her and flirt with her to see her all flustered but she denies him actually liking her bc she thinks it’s just his personality to be funny like that. but then there’s the classic oh no there’s only one bed thing? thank you!

Ooooh I loved writing this! Tropes? Love them. Fluff? So fun, so sweet. I hope you enjoy, anon, and have a very happy holiday! <3

Teasing

Sokka x shy!Reader

It was a well-known fact that Sokka was a tease.

Now, he wasn’t a tease in the common sense, more that he took some joy in being a so-called comedian. Y/N seemed to be the person in their gang that got the brunt of his teasing. Every time he came up with some sarcastic quip, she would laugh along with everyone else – though most of the time she was the only one who found him funny – but then there were the other times.

She had been sparring with Zuko, who was surprisingly adept with swords for a bender, when Sokka had come by whistling with faux innocence. As he took a seat on the floor, his eyes were trained on the fight. Feeling his blue-eyed gaze boring into her, she felt her entire body flush. Steadying her breathing, Y/N pushed down the flustered flutter bats inhabiting her stomach. A frustrated cry escaped her lips as she pinned Zuko’s blades to the floor with her own.

“Sokka,” She breathed out, hating how hot she felt. “Sokka, w-what are you doing?”

He grinned. “Just enjoying the view. You know, I always thought red was Zuko’s colour, but you are boasting a lovely shade today.”

Absently, Y/N put a palm to her face, only becoming more flustered as she realised her skin had in fact became darker. As the blood rushed faster through her body, she looked desperately at Zuko for some reprieve.

“Sokka, are you here for any reason other than being a complete clown?” Zuko said, sighing in pure exasperation even as Y/N had him pinned.

The boy ignored him completely. “Has anyone ever told just how adorable you are? Because you really are.”

“Sokka,” Zuko said again, his voice less patient. “Go away before we make you.”

“Alright, alright,” He tutted, hands in the air as if in surrender. “I’ll leave you two to your dance lessons. Call me if you fall; I’ll come and catch you.”

Waiting for him to be out of earshot, Y/N groaned, dropping her sword and freeing Zuko. Her entire face was on fire. Sure, it was a metaphor, a hyperbolic one at that, but if Zuko decided to shove his ignited palm in her face, it would not manage to be as hot as she was feeling now. It might be slightly less sweaty. Ew.

Lowering herself to the ground, she sat, stretching out her aching limbs, pouring water over her roasting head. Y/N, needless to say, was mortified by Sokka’s teasing, but when was she not? She was somewhat shyer than her female friends; Katara had this maternal instinct about her that kicked into overdrive as soon as someone seemed needy. It was honestly scarier than the Avatar State. Toph was just... Toph. The girl was at least four years younger than Y/N and utterly terrifying, approaching people and situations with no fear. Then there was Suki. Suki had a knack of getting people to like her, being the loveable, charismatic leader, she was.

And that left Y/N.

Y/N struggled being heard in many a conversation. Ask her to take a compliment? No. No. Not happening. No thank you. Her shy demeanour was labelled cute by a few different people, though they all seemed to be joking – especially Sokka.

“Do you want me to sort him out for you?”

Y/N looked up, meeting Zuko’s very serious gaze for just a moment before staring at the ground. “No, it’s okay. He’s like that with everyone.”

“What?” Zuko frowned, slumping to the ground too. “What are you on about? He doesn’t flirt with everyone!”

“That wasn’t flirting!” She insisted, feeling that bashful flush creeping in again. 

“He was just teasing, like he does with everyone!”

Zuko’s lips quirked. “He called you adorable.”

“Yesterday, he called Momo adorable.”

“He said you flushed was your colour.”

“And he said that red was yours, sunshine.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll catch you if you fall!”

Y/N stammered. “He could have been talking to either of us!”

There was some silence between them. Y/N didn’t usually mind sitting in silence with Zuko, who was just as awkward as her most of the time. However, the wide, toothy grin like a catgator’s was highly disconcerting.

“Zuko, I don’t know what you’re seeing, but he wasn’t flirting,” Y/N said finally, quietly commanding. “He’s just messing around like he usually does.”

The prince sighed, suppressing his mischievous grin. Raising his swords, the pair charged each other again.

                                                      ✦

In the midst of a war, there wasn’t much space for fun. With the constant movement between the Western Air Temple and many significant locations to build their defences after the Day of Black Sun, Y/N found she hardly had time for anything other than training and strategizing. Sure, she may be considered meek when compared to her peers, but her mind was sharper than her blade.

After watching Aang master firebending, Sokka masterminding a prison break, and Katara nearly murdering a man – all with Zuko’s help – she had some whiplash. She might even say that she had been somewhat blindsided by them, but she didn’t particularly mind. It was when they moved onto Ember Island, however, that Y/N found there to be an issue. In all the excitement, or terror, of being separated from Haru and the others, and possibly murdering Sparky Sparky Boom Man, the gang ended up hiding out on Ember Island.

Spirits, did Y/N love the sunshine. The sand? Not so much, nor the swimsuits. Nevertheless, she much preferred it to Aang’s beloved ancestral temple.

“Okay,” Zuko said as they all collected together in the house, “So there’s a bit of an issue.”

“Fire Nation?” Katara asked, eyes narrowing.

“Worse,” Zuko said, voice grave. “There are seven of us, and only six beds.”

The teenagers all looked between each other with varying looks of embarrassment and disgust. It was Toph who spoke first.

“Well, I for one do not want to share a room,” She scoffed, stomping her foot – a reminder of her power. “I can already hear all of you when we sleep on the ground. I am not missing out on my chance for a quiet night of sleep.”

“That seems fair,” Zuko hummed as he pulled a hat off of a dresser. “Everyone else, unless they have some reason why not, will put their name in here.”

Sokka whined, pointing his finger at the heir of the Fire Nation. “Fine! But they should get the biggest bedroom.”

Y/N swore Zuko smirked. “Done.”

Sat on the floor watching him write names, the group waited anxiously to see who would be sharing a room at least for that night. Mixing up bits of paper, he seemed to be building up some bravado, akin to a showman about to pull a jackalope out of a hat.

“Sokka.”

The boy cursed under his breath as Zuko continued on with his little show, the piece of paper disintegrating as easily as a leaf floating in a breeze.

“And Y/N!”

She met Zuko’s eye, entire body hot, sending a psychic message along the lines of sprits, no, Zuko, no, please, Zuko, don’t do this.

Despite the fact that Y/N knew Sokka was only joking with his teasing, somewhere along the line she had ended up falling for it – for him. It was sudden and violent, the way a meteor crashed through the atmosphere, roaring, brilliant, and completely obliterating anything in its path. Currently, Y/N was that metaphorical meteorite, burning up and crashing into the earth.

Since Zuko apparently couldn’t read minds, she chanced a glance at Sokka. She expected some sort of joke, a quip, anything. Instead, he was deadly silent, stony in his face, staring too at Zuko. Was he blushing, or was she making it up in her head? This question soon slipped from her brain as she those baby blue eyes were staring straight at her.

Tui and La, Agni, spirits above; he hated her.

“Cool!” She said, though it came out more like a squeak. “I’ll see you tonight, I guess.”

“Y/N, we have the entire day before- “

She cut Suki off. “Yep, busy today! Busy, busy, busy. Plenty of strategic planning to do before the big day!”

And she was gone. Even Aang, renowned creator of the air scooter, had never seen a person move so fast, and Y/N wasn’t even a bender. In her haste, she didn’t catch the sly looks, nor the disapproving one courtesy of Katara. She definitely didn’t catch the shy grin on Sokka’s face, muddled with complete embarrassment. Getting as far away from the house as possible was her current goal, and she achieved it with insane speed – and longevity.

For an entire day, Y/N managed to see none of her friends, excluding Appa and Momo. Her animal friends seemed very concerned and very interested in her noughts and crosses diagrams in the black volcanic sand of Ember Island. It was only when Yue began to rise above the horizon that she thought it would be safe to come out. With what felt like a walk of shame, she trekked back to the beach house, a sleeping Momo cradled in her arms like a baby. Even Appa, who had been occupied with all sorts of made-up games throughout the day, was beginning to sway, eyes drooping, weighed down by sleep. Settling them down in the warm sand, Y/N climbed the wooden stairs.

Being quiet used to get her everywhere unseen; it didn’t work that night. Wordless, her friends’ good night wishes falling on deaf ears, she entered the biggest bedroom, alone. Falling face first onto the bed, she muffled a frustrated scream into one of the too many decadent pillows adorning it. Heaving herself onto her back, Y/N groaned dramatically with the effort it took. This bed was so soft. She tried to think of a more comfy, luxurious bed she had ever been on – and failed. The four-poster frame was casting odd shadows across the dark room. It felt especially lonely.

She felt especially lonely.

Sitting up, a low rumble filled the silence. Her stomach was apparently rather unhappy with the distinct lack of food during the day. Y/N had forgotten about that. She weighed up the options; go out and face embarrassment, or skip dinner for the first time in her life. Fortunately, she needn’t think long.

“So, everyone’s going to bed, and I remembered you hadn’t eaten.”

Sokka.

Of course.

“Oh,” Was all she could manage, mentally kicking herself for her utter lack of articulation. “Th-thanks, Sokka.”

Flicking on the light, the shadows no longer seemed odd, nor did the room feel lonely. There, in the doorway, stood Sokka. He was pretty – something that always took Y/N by surprise even though she saw him every day. Sure, he hadn’t grown into his gangly limbs yet, but he was getting there. His shoulders had gotten broader, his arms larger from training. She couldn’t help but imagine how comfy he’d be to lie against, how warm his hold would be.

“I brought snacks?”

Opening her mouth only to close it again, Y/N felt like a fish thrown mercilessly out of water. Instead, she managed a timid pat on the bed. He was slow to react, slower to move, and she only felt more inadequate. Whatever Zuko thought he saw at the temple was wrong.

“Wow, this bed is soft,” Sokka gasped, bouncing lightly on it like a small child. “It’s like sitting on a cloud!”

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that passed her lips as she took a slice of fruit from the platter he had brought in. For the briefest moment, infinitesimally small, Sokka ceased with his childish antics and just looked. Brightening, he seemed to thrive – delight – in her laughter, continuing to goof about with the numerous pillows and posh looking decor.

“Whoa.”

Y/N looked up at him from her laughing, stomach aching with joy. “What?”

“I didn’t know you could get prettier,” He said, brows furrowed, eyes sparkling.

She turned mute in an instant, feeling that all too familiar flush again, only this time it was close – more intense. Silent, she took another piece of fruit, eating it in moments, anything to give her time. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

He frowned. “What? No. I’m not- “

“It’s okay if you are!” Y/N insisted, her smile plastered on and her heart aching. “I know you joke about with us all, and it’s just how you are. It’s not a bad thing, and I know you’re just joking and- “

“Y/N,” Sokka said, almost incredulous. “I’m not joking. I have never joked about that kind of thing with you.”

She stopped dead. “What?”

It wasn’t a question – well, not to Sokka at least. That one word was her address to the universe. It was astonishment, frustration, incredulity, sheer joy, so many emotions all wrapped into one simple word. The moments that passed between that word and their locked gaze spoke a thousand more words, sang a hundred more emotions.  

“You didn’t know?”

Her head was empty. “Prettier?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Sokka chuckled weakly, moving the platter to the side.

“Prettier,” Y/N repeated slowly, looking up at him, “As in I was already pretty?”

“Erm, yes?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Tui and La, yes.”

Oh.

“Okay,” She said, testing the waters, “And you like it when I blush?”

“Yeah, you look cute,” He admitted, sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Looking down, bashful, she recalled training with Zuko. “The word you used was adorable.”

No words came in response to that, only a gentle hand on her cheek. Guiding her face up, Sokka looked at her and saw her. Y/N could see him reaching for words that danced in his mind and away from his grasp, so many more pretty, teasing words he could say. But he wasn’t teasing, not really. He certainly wasn’t when he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and easy to melt into; she didn’t need to be shy, not with him.

They shared more sweet kisses, laughing under the moonlight in that fancy bed they got to share. Fruit, a bed, kisses; they shared them all, drifting into an easy sleep as the moon began to slip away into daylight. Basking in the prospect of a lazy morning, they made the most of it.

They weren’t even mad when they found out Zuko rigged the entire thing.

[yeojaa]

IDK IF UR STILL TAKING REQUESTS🥺🥺🥺 sorry if IM botherinh😭😭 BUT MYBE A FINDERS KEEP HERS drabble where jk n oc get in to an argument after chap 3 n jk apologizes or something like that😭😭🥺😭🥺🥺

[ read part one / main story ]

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  this is soft angst. JK being his usual idiot self, reader being... well, sad, and yeah. just pain (but w a resolution. ish).  wc. 1.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif beta’d a bit of this but i wrote most of it after so any dumb mistakes are my fault and my fault alone. 🤡  author note.  this isn’t 100% what you requested but... the first part kind of is, and then this is the resolution (because people requested it). if you’d like another drabble, please feel free to request!

In true fashion, Jungkook tries to fix the problem in the only way he knows how:  with money.

He puts the two of you up at the Four Seasons for the entire week, orders room service at all hours of the day and has treats from all of your favourite spots in the city delivered.  (Macarons, candied nuts, that one bakery that does those salted honey pies you inhale like a wild animal.)  He runs baths for you, fills the tub with your favourite scents (always Diptyque) and massages his tattooed hands all over your scalp.  He makes sure you wake up to the smell of French toast and fall asleep on a bed of roses, curled up in his arms and little else.  

He spoils you until you can hardly see the floor, designer shopping bags strewn throughout the suite.  (His sisters help him decide what to buy, mouths sealed shut otherwise.  They know better than to get too involved in his relationship with you.)  Dinner is somewhere new every night but always at a Michelin-starred restaurant, space booked out to the extent it’s just the two of you and a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

Of course, he thinks things are better.  Assumes they must be, because there’s never been a time where money hasn’t solved his problems.  No matter how much, throw enough of it at something and the problem will go away.

But you don’t go away.  Neither does your sadness.

“Baby.”  It’s your last night together before you’re back to some semblance of normalcy (not that Jungkook’s life was very normal to begin with).  He thinks he’ll miss it more than you will, if your lacklustre reactions have been any indication.

You’re fresh out of the shower - you’d turned down his offer of a bath, locked the door on your way into the washroom - and wrapped in a fuzzy white robe.  “What?”  You’re focused on running a comb through your hair, unbothered by your boyfriend who sits at the edge of the bed, legs wide and hands extended toward you.

It bothers him a bit (read: a lot).  You’re better than you were, offering tiny smiles when he begs for them, accepting his kisses without complaint. It isn’t you though.  Not the snark and the sass and the decades of friendship that normally thread your relationship.  A book with its spine about to snap, held together by cobweb.

Despite the time you’ve spent together the last few days - almost every hour, sans when you were at work - you’ve been distant still.  Not mean, of course (no, never mean, because you’ve always been soft on him) but different.  Softer and harder all at once.

“Come here,”  he coaxes, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you between his knees effortlessly.

Normally, you’d curl around his shoulders, rake your nails through his hair.  This time, you only allow yourself to be with him, palms flat upon the ridges of muscle plating his back.  You don’t pass affection into his hair, don’t form a cradle for him to rest his head.  (It doesn’t feel like home - not like it should.)

Jungkook hates it.  Absolutely fucking abhors it.  He wants his girlfriend - his best friend, his love - back.  Not this spectre that’s taken up your space. 

(He almost forgets that he’s the reason you’re the way you are.)

“What’s wrong?”  The shape of his mouth curls, bottom lip pouting into that trademark expression that usually has you relenting, melting into a puddle of goo in his arms. 

This time, you shrug, movement dislodging the soft soft terry cloth from your shoulders.  “Nothing.”  Dumb as he might be - oblivious in the way only someone like he can be - he can tell you’re lying.  Offering the untruth right between your teeth, expecting him to accept it.

That bothers him even more.  It’s one thing to put up an act, entertain him as if you were a court jester.  It’s entirely another to treat him as if he’s a child, feeding him lies without a care.

(Notwithstanding the fact that Jeon Jungkook is, for all intents and purposes, a manchild.)

“You’re a shit liar,”  he retorts, grumpy, coloured green and blue until his insides feel like mud.  It’s strange, the discomfort that sinks beneath his skin and sticks his bones together.  Like wading through quicksand or a bog, stuck to a place he doesn’t want to be.  “Talk to me.”

“About what?”  You’re deflecting, refusing to meet his stare, holding yourself within the confines of your robe as if you can’t bear to open up to him.

That hurts more than he expects.  Slips sadness in alongside the frustration.

“About what’s bothering you.”  The fact he has to do this is driving him mad.  It’s akin to pulling teeth and he hates the dentist.

You scoff then - which he doesn’t expect.  The sound kicks him right in the stomach, a sucker punch he doesn’t see coming.  “You want me to talk about you?”  It’s an uncharacteristically mean answer, brought on by whatever’s been bothering you, turning blood to battery acid.

“Excuse me?”  

“You heard me.”  

For the briefest moment, he considers lashing out in response - giving back exactly what he’s getting.  But then he spies it, just there, past the usual warmth of your stare.  It’s hiding behind crystallised amber, peeking past the edges.  So much sadness it steals his breath right from his lungs, stripping him bare of red hot fury and leaving him lily white and lovesick.   

When Jungkook speaks again, it’s feather soft, terribly light, begging and pleading in a single utterance.  “Please.”

There’s silence for a beat, then another.  It stings for each second it continues, treading misery all over the thing that beats in his chest.  He’s not used to this.  (You’re his first and only love.  A part of him is grateful for that;  another hates even this.)

He almost asks again - readies it on the tip of his tongue.

Then you’re unloading, giving him everything he’d asked for and more.   

“I love you,”  you tell him in a reedy voice, uneven like the foundation you’ve built together.  Haphazardly thrown into place and hoped for the best on.  “But you’re an idiot.”   

(He deserves that, he supposes.)

Your voice is static, stretched thin and gossamer thin.  Cheek pressed to his curls, you find comfort in your hiding place, as if shielded by the dark.  “I’ve loved you for years and that’ll never stop.  But when you do stupid shit, it’s so hard.”  Your words are honeyed, thick and heavy as they lay into each strand, seep quietly into his ears.  Where they’d normally fill him with ecstasy, delight, send him on a sugar high - these ache, sink right to the pit of his stomach.  “I would give you anything.  Anything.”

“I know.”  Really, he does.  He’s known that since you were kids.  It’s why he’d fallen in love with you, even before he’d realised he had.

“Then why do you test me?”  

It’s not rhetorical.  You want an answer - something real you can hold between your hands.  Something to act as the salve for all the hurt, to bandage the wounds left behind by your uncertainty.  (He’s the same as you - needs to know he means as much to you as you do him.  But you show it in different ways and that’s what’s brought the two of you to this point.)

“I’m sorry,”  he answers, sliding his arms more securely around your waist, face buried into the soft fabric of the robe, into the warmth that lies beneath, into the heart that beats a rhythm identical to his.

“I don’t want sorry.”  After all, you’d already gotten one.  Weeks ago, when he’d pulled the stupid sophomoric stunt, he’d apologised.  Had been apologising every day since then, but in all the wrong ways.  “I want better.” 

It’s as if all of his bones have been cracked open, the weight of your words settling like sand, discomfort and grit snapping his head to attention.  “You want better?”  There’s nothing but alarm in Jungkook’s expression, eyes wide, throat knotted in worry.  “I—”

As always, you read him like an open book.  Hands smooth down the sides of his cheeks, palms searing over his reddened cheeks.  “Not like that.”  You’re reassuring him even as it should be the other way around.  (How ironic.)

He exhales a deep breath.  Doesn’t tear his stare from yours.  

“I just need you to be better.”  You’d never ask this of him if it weren’t important, if you didn’t feel his ignorance and immaturity splintering your insides into glass shards.  You’ve always accepted him exactly as he was, all the good and bad and ridiculous.  

This is different though.  You love him.  You’re taking a chance with him just as he is with you.  Laying your heart in his hands and trusting him to keep it safe, handing out the key in the hopes of building a home.  

So you ask - for both your sakes. 

He promises he will be and you believe him.  Have to.

For both of your sakes.

[brelione]

Protect You (JJ Maybank X Reader)

Warnings:Domestic Violence,blood

Request:Hi! can you write a jj maybank fic with prompt #10, y/n is friends with the pogues and just recently broke up with her kook boyfriend. She starts getting closer with Jj and then her ex wants to get back together, she doesn’t so he chokes her and punches her. She tries to hide it from the pogues but jj thinks the bruises on her neck are hickies and gets defensive. Y/n continues to lie but then JJ makes her cry and she tells the truth ?? (Love ur blog v much❤️💕💖)

So this isnt exactly what you wanted but I tried so I hope you still like it <3

Loose long sleeve shirts,baggy sweatpants and high top sneaks.You were limping ever so slightly,thinking that none of them had noticed.You had been alarmingly quiet and smoking weed pretty much every 20 minutes.Nobody asked you why you were acting this way.Kie had just thought you were on your period,sharing the information with the boys,You had been staying at John.B’s and refusing to go back to your house in case he showed up there.

It was somewhere around 7 in the morning when JJ woke up,going to the porch to smoke.You were already there.Your hood was up,hair in a messy know on top of your head.You had a few dark bruises on your neck,the fake metal chain you owned dangling off your neck.You were leaning on the railing,blunt between your lips and your eyes closed as you tried to calm your thoughts with the drug.The small scar on your cheekbone had become irritated as it always did when you had cried.Being in this state meant that you hadnt noticed JJ’s tall figure yet.You let out a sigh,a small cloud of white smoke leaving your mouth.JJ came up behind you quite. 

“Morning.”His voice whispered groggily.You pulled up your hood so the fabric covered your neck,the material stopping behind your bun. “Morning.”You answered quietly,wincing as his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder. “Are you okay,sunshine?”She asked.You took the blunt back between your lips,nodding slowly. “You’ve been smoking a lot lately.”He observed,sliding his hands under your hoodie and onto your hips.You grabbed his wrists tightly,pulling them off your body.He frowned.

 “What’s wrong?”He repeated his previous question,sounding more serious this time. “I dont like when people touch me.”You answered as smore crawled out of your mouth and into the air.He slid between you and the railing. “You love hugs and cuddles.You always have.Im gonna ask one more time.What’s wrong?”He asked again.Worry and anger course through his veins.He hadnt really seen sunshine in three days.He had seen (Y/N) but not his sunshine that he had known and loved since seventh grade.

You sighed,avoiding his eyes as you exhaled smoke,the cloud hitting his clothed chest.You went to take another hit but he took it from your hand,making your eyes widen. “What the hell,JJ?”You asked,tears beginning to form in your bloodshot eyes.He sighed,looking down at you.You were silent as you thought about what you could possibly say,what excuse you could make.You held the bottom of your hoodie,thinking about what you were about to do. “Don't tell anyone.If you tell anyone ill kill you.”You told him.He nodded nervously. “Im serious,not even John.B”You spoke softly,worried that someone would hear you even though you were ten feet away from the house.He nodded again.

You hesitated,pulling off the hoodie with a small hiss.His heart dropped,feeling sick.Yellow and black bruises cover your torso,scratches and scabs and cuts all over your ribs and stomach.You pulled at the drawstrings of your pants,letting them fall into the grass.Your knee cap looked out of place,a large cut across your thigh.He couldn't say anything,tears coming from his eyes as his jaw fell. “Dont cry,im fine.”You forced a grin on your face.His fists clecnched. “Who the fuck did this?”He demanded,hand going to the gun in the waistband of his jeans.You sighed,shaking your head. 

“This is why I didn't want to tell you.”You mumbled. “Dammit!What the fuck does that mean?You cant just let me fucking protect you!Ill go to fucking prison!Doesn't matter if you tell me or not ill blow that son of a bitches brain out!”He shouted as you took steps backwards.Tears were going down his face.Someone had hurt his sunshine,ruined you.No one could make bruises like that with just their fists which meant whoever done this had a weapon.

 “JJ,just listen to me.Im fine.I had an accident and it was my fault.I feel fine.Everything is fine.”You spoke softly,trying to calm him. “Bullshit!”He shouted.Pope and Kiara came down the back steps quietly,trying to figure out what was going on.Kiara screamed when she saw you,causing you to turn around and see what she was screaming for.Now JJ could see the long cut across your back,the moon shaped cuts on your neck and the little bruises all over your shoulders. 

“Kie-im fine.Im fine-just go back inside.”You squeaked out,becoming overwhelmed with everything going on.JJ held his gun tighter. “JJ look at me.Im breathing and standing.Im fine.”You spoke,voice becoming shaky as you spoke to the blonde. “Shit,(Y/N).I think you need stitches for that.”Pope stared at the deep cut.You quickly shook your head,trying to gain control over the situation again. “No-no,Pope thats stupid!Im fine.Go back inside.”You spoke desperately,tears rolling down your face and neck.

JJ looked at the bruises one more time before slamming his hand against the railing.You sand to the ground,head in your hands as John B started shouting for all of you to go to the hospital.You hadnt even noticed him come outside.Kiara was crying,Pope was about to vomit,John.B was panicking and JJ had kneeled down in front of you,trying to talk.You couldn't hear anything he was saying,any sounds except for your heart beating and your sobs.He needed you to go to the hospital,desperately trying to get through to you.He gently lifted your chin up so you’d look at him properly. “Sunshine,you need to get in the van so we can take you to the hospital.”He spoke gently,his fingers tracing lines along your temple and jawline gently. 

“Im fine.”You insisted,trying not to cough. “You’re not fine-your knee is fucking twisted,your back is slashed and youre covered in bruises!You’re not fine!”John B shouted,completely losing his cool.You huffed at the commotion,ignoring the hot tears and the pounding in your head. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”You tried pulled the hoodie from under JJ’s knee. “You cant just put your hoodie back on and pretend everything is fine.”He refused to move.You looked up at him,offering a small smile. “Everything is fine.”You repeated again.His jaw clenched.

 “What the actual fuck?Come on,you know you're not fine!You know you’re not!Just let someone help you for once in your damn life-its either you get in the van and you let us take you to the hospital or I will hunt down whoever did this and shoot them in the fucking face.What’s it gonna be?”He asked.You just shook your head,more tears coming from your eyes.Someone else always got gurt,why>Kiara slowly came up to you,kneeling down and letting you cry into her shirt.You just kept apologizing,crying.POpe ran inside,coming out with a first aid kit and a rag,yelling for John.B to get rubbing alcohol and ice. “Hey,hey you gotta let us help you.”The dark skinned boy spoke quietly,sitting by you.

You let out a loud sob,JJ bit down hard on his lip and tried not to cry too.Everything was a blur as a rag got put in your mouth while Kiara held you tight.Pope was trying to clean the slash on your back with rubbing alcohol,your screams and sobs muffled by the rag. “Guys!Give her a minute!”JJ shouted.Pope took the blood stained,alcohol drenched towel and tossed it onto the porch.Kiara slowly let go of you,allowing you to lean forward.It was unspoken as JJ opened his arms and you wrapped your arms around him as you cried until you couldn't anymore,your eyes puffy.He didn't touch you at all,not wanting to hurt you and remembering you saying that you didn't want to be touched. “Was it...was it Lucas?”He asked.You gave him a weak nod,breaths still shallow from crying so hard.His hands became fists but he tried not to get angry again for your sake.

He made quick eye contact with John.B.They would go to his house and beat the devil out of him later.He rested his head against your shoulder,kissing your collarbone lightly. “Did he hit your head?”He asked.You just held onto him tighter.What a fucking mess this was.You sighed,moving away from him. “How long has this been going on?”John.B asked,sitting down. “A couple months.”You answered,finally coming clean. “Jesus,sunny,why didn't you tell any of us?”He asked.You shrugged,wincing at the pain.

 “Thought you guys would be mad at me.”You mumbled,causing the group to go silent. “You should come inside and shower.”Kiara suggested.She held her hand out to you,you got up with a low groan as your knee made a cracking sound.You pulled your clothes out from underneath JJ,limping back inside with Kie.She turned on the shower for you while you stared at your body in the mirror. “It doesn't hurt...he didn't hit me that hard.”You ran your fingers along the bruises. “He could've killed you.”Kie reminded you. “Its fine,Kie.I bruise easy anyways.You should see Lucas,I kneed him right in the dick.”You gave her a small smile before hesitantly stepping under the hot,flowing water.

You let out a sharp squeak as the blood hit the water,coloring the floor a faded murky red. “Im going to grab you some clothes.Will you let me bandage you up later?”Kie asked.You nodded,watching the blood go down the drain and try not to get your ahir wet.You heard the door open around two minutes later,too tired to open your eyes.Everything just felt heavy. “Why didn't you tell us?”A masculine voice asked.You could identify the voice as JJ’s.You opened your eyes partly,looking over to see him leaning against the sink with clothes under one arm and a towel under the other.

 “You never asked.”Was all you could think of,hand shaking as you turned off the water.You held onto the wall for support,shocked at how weak you were.You felt JJ wrap the towel around your shoulders,holding his arm out for support.You held on tight to his for arm as his other hand went to your waist,ready to catch you if you fell.You were trembling slightly,gripping his arm so hard that it was beginning to lose color. “I've got you baby girl.Take your time.”He spoke softly.You nearly fell as you stepped onto the small rag on the tile floor.The towel still hung on your shoulders,covering your breasts.

He slowly dragged the towel down your body,careful as the material grazed your injured thigh,dragging it back up to pat your neck dry.He kissed your forehead lightly,letting your naked body lean against him.In any other situation it would be all of his dreams and fantasies come true but he couldn't think about anything sexual in this moment.He was helping you,comforting you. “Baby.”He mumbled quietly.Neither of you really knew why he called you that,it just came more naturally than your name.He called you by Baby,Babygirl,Sunshine.Pretty much anything but your name.You could realate.You had nicknames for the others,words you would use instead of their names.

Pumpkin,Sweetheart,Darling,Love.But only JJ got to be called Love.It was something special for only him.You hummed quietly,listening to him. “I’ll hurt him,if you want.”He offered,waiting for your answer.You shook your head,moving his chin so he was forced to look at you. “Don't be so angry,Love.Karma will get him eventually.”You answered softly,pulling him down so you could kiss his nose. “I just wish I could protect you from everything.”He sighed,his bottom lip quivering.You pulled him closer,pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. 

“I know.But you cant and thats okay.”You replied before pulling the clothes from the bathroom counter,trying to figure out how you could slip on the shorts without making your thigh cut bleed again.He noticed your struggle,taking the shorts from you and assisting in pulling them up your legs,helping you with the T Shirt as well. “I love you.”He whispered.You nodded,squeezing his hand. “I love you too.”You answered.

@nas-marie-loves-u @28cnn @sexytholland  @yuxsh06   @ifilwtmfc  @cherryobx @poguestarkey @n1ghtsh4d3-67  @poguestyleskye @judayyyw  @sunwardsss @meaganjm  @outerbongs  @copper-boom  @httpstarkey  @maybebanks​ 

If you’d like to be tagged in all future JJ imagines/headcannons/series comment with a heart,if you’d like to be tagged in all future Pope imagines/headcannons/series comment with a smiling face,if you’d like to be tagged in all future Rafe imagines/headcannons/series comment with a frowning face,if you’d like to be tagged in all future Kiara imagines/headcannons/series comment with a question mark and if you’d like to be tagged in all future Sarah Cameron imagines/headcannons/series comment with a plus sign.If you’d like to be tagged in all Kelce content coment with a “>” and if youd like to be tagged in all Topper content comment with a “%”.Or if thats too complicated you can just comment whose name you’d like to be tagged in.

[alphi-writes]

Thank you for ur answer earlier! It's crystal clear owo)👌 then, may i request jack jamil and kalim with dancing+bonfire? Thank you in advance! Have a good day/night and don't forget to stay hydrated! 🌸

Of course! (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡ I'm really sorry it took so long to get these posted, but I tried to make up for it by putting more effort into the writing. Make sure to get at least a bit of sunlight today if you can🧡

Characters: Jack, Jamil, Kalim

Items: Dancing, Bonfire

Jack Howl

Jack decided to join you tonight, since you invited him to the bonfire earlier in the day. It was almost seven thirty by the time you got the bonfire actually going, and you were beginning to think Jack wouldn't want to stay.

"Alrighty then, Jack-A-Boy, let's get to our late night gab session." You threw yourself into the chair sat next to Jack's, leaning over the edge expectantly.

His ears flattened, "Don't you have any activities planned? Usually you'd want to set off a fountain candle or two, and you didn't bring any snacks-"

You leaned over, tipping the chair on its side where the two left feet lifted above the ground. You pushed your index finger to his lips, shushing him.

"It is autumn, and we are going to be festive without fountain candles. This is what normal people do, Jackie, they sit and watch the fire- oh my gosh are we old people now?"

Honestly, Jack felt lost. Maybe he was overthinking things, but you didn't hang out one-on-one with him very often, and if you did, Grimm was always there. This time it was just the two of you.

You sat quietly for a few minutes, may ten, just enjoying the crackling heat in the cool of autumn. Every once in a while, you'd feel Jack's gaze on you, and finally, you caught him.

"Are you... nervous? Is the Jack Howl nervous to be alone out here with me? A magic-less human? HaH! I laugh in the face of your untimely jitters!" He watched as you laughed in your seat, a light heat washing over his face.

Of course he was nervous! He didn't show it often, but he really liked hanging out with you! He didn't want you to know that though because then he would lose his cool-guy bad-boy vibe.

He'd be reduced to a puppy dog if he let on that he enjoyed being around you. And not only that, but your personalities were vastly different.

Jack was ripped from his thoughts when you stood up and grabbed his hands in yours.

You pulled him from his seat and lead him closer to the fire.

"Come on, let's dance! I know this one dance that we did every year at the festivals back home." Jack tugged against you, albeit flustered from the contact.

"Uhm, no, I don't dance." His hand flew up to the back of his neck at his hairline, and you could see the embarrassment in his furrowed eyebrows.

You hummed quietly, nodding in understanding.

"Fine, I'll show you this dance tonight, and if you can't perform it perfectly byyy... tomorrow- I'll just have to find some collateral for payback." You were obviously joking, but he looked visibly distraught by your words.

You only dismissed his expression before starting your dance.

You weren't the smoothest at dancing, and you were stiffer than you should've been, but you knew this dance well.

Your movements were quick and deliberate, sweeping in directions like a gust of wind. Every so often, you'd catch a glimpse of Jack staring at you with large eyes.

His ears were straight up and his tail was wagging so quickly it was only a blur of grey.

You soon finished swaying around, pausing for a moment to catch your breath before grinning at Jack.

"Dancing is pretty cool, y'know, so I hope you'll dance with me some other time." You gazed down at Jack as he sat there quiet.

He didn't speak, and it caused your smile to falter.

"That was- wow, I've never seen anyone dance like that before." His face was burning and his tail had slowed to a wave.

Your smile returned. You laughed loudly, wiping the sweat from nerves and the heat off hour forehead.

"Phew, I thought you didn't like it for a moment there."

Jack jumped up, "No-!" He yelped, "it was great!"

His outburst startled you, and your eyes widened when his hands lightly grasped yours. He wasn't usually like this, and it made you chuckle.

"Could you teach me to dance like that?"

"Of course."

Jamil Viper

Jamil was suprised by the temperature of the air around your dorm.

"Is it usually this cold?"

"No," you threw a bundle of sticks on the formation of branches, "its autumn now so its beginning to cool down some. Its definitely colder than Scarabia though."

Jamil joined you tonight because you invited him to a good old fashioned autumn bonfire, which he's never been a part of.

You remember freaking out when he told you he'd never been to a bonfire before, and you knew that you'd have to invite him to on that exact night.

Sure you didn't plan on having one this night, but the absence of a bonfire in Jamil's memories just drove your determination.

"And it's just a large fire?"

"Yea, it's pretty cool. You'll see the appeal."

He nodded with his fist on his chin, scanning the surrounding area. He stood there awkwardly as you finally lit the brambles on fire, standing in front of the flames with your arms in the air.

"Hell yea, warmth."

You sat down on a fold-out chair you brought our earlier, patting the seat next to it for Jamil.

He sat down, staring at the fire. He was used to heat and fires like this one, but he'd never been in crisp air while a fire was going. It was a bit odd, but he liked the feeling of autumn. Maybe not more than the temperatures and winds of Scarabia or the Hot Sands, but he could see himself sitting here often.

"Oooh, Jamil, you dance, yes?"

He nodded, turning his head towards you.

When you met his eye, you began to think maybe you shouldn't ask him to dance. Your face began to tingle and you sunk in your chair.

"Why?"

You wrung your hands together, "ah, well, it's nothing, nevermind."

He sat quiet for a moment before standing up.

"I can dance for you, if that's what you want." He had a small smile on his face as he stood up and stretched his back muscles.

You panicked slightly, "No, you don't really have to Jamil-!"

"Do you not like my dancing?"

"Wh- no it's not that," you threw your hands up, "I just dont want you to feel like you have to dance for me."

He chuckled quietly at your panic.

"Its alright, I want to dance for you."

And he did.

He danced for what seemed like only a few moments, but was really about half an hour. Even in that time frame, he never once faltered, never once seemed tired or out of stamina.

He was so fluid, moving as if he were water in the wind. He was elegant, beautiful, gorgeous.

When he was finished, he swung to a stop, a large grin on his face. The largest smile you've ever seen him bare.

You were up in a second, glomping him in glee.

"Jamil, you were amazing! Oh my gosh, you were gorgeous!!" He chuckled while you peppered him with compliments.

When he brought his eyes back up to yours, his breathing hitched quietly.

The look in your eyes.

Not lust or hunger, not an emotion that was anything derogatory.

Just pure, utter, true love.

Your lips curved up and you chuckled quietly.

"Jeez, are you gorgeous." You whispered, gently bonking your head on his chest.

You felt his chest rise and fall steadily before his arms loosely wrapped around your back.

Kalim al Asim

"There you go, the last branch." You threw the last branch on and brushed the excess branch bits from your hands.

Kalim cheered happily, unfolding the chairs for the two of you.

Kalim was practically jumping in joy, "This is gonna be so fun!" He exclaimed.

You chuckled, "Yea."

He was always so exuberant and obnoxious, but it was just another part of his charms.

You were planning to have a bonfire by yourself, and when you mentioned it earlier today during lunch, Kalim jumped at the idea.

You couldn't just say 'nah you can't come to my bonfire in which I am the only attendee'. You weren't some monster.

So of course you invited him, and not begrudgingly, no, you were ecstatic to have him join you. He even helped build the bonfire.

"So you' ve never had a bonfire?"

"Not one like this!"

"What other kinds of bonfires are there..?"

You laughed it off, lighting the sticks ablaze.

"Burn baby, burn, said the pyromaniac!" You laughed as the flames grew.

Kalim grinned at you, moving closer to the fire to feel the heat.

"Its always hot in the Land of Hot Sands, so it's nice to feel heat while theres still the pinch of cold in the air."

It was quite relaxing. Although you liked the nip of cold, you loved the feeling of warmth just as much.

You weren't one for Scarabia heats, but a normal, balanced heat was the best for you.

Kalim swayed as he took in the heat, closing his eyes and grinning up at the night sky.

The way the light of the flames danced on his face made his dark skin light up with oranges and yellows. He looked so warm and peaceful. So happy.

When he opened his eyes and looked down at you, you averted your eyes quickly.

"I have a great idea! Lets dance!" He was already grabbing your hands before you could utter a word.

Now, before you even began to dance, you already knew Kalim was a solo dancer. Sure he would dance near others, but they were never dancing together.

He was attempting the common waltz, and although he was raised as royalty, you could tell that the fairy tale books weren't all factual.

Kalim often stepped on your feed, apologizing quickly. He bonked his head against yours a few times, and even accidentally tangled his leg with yours.

"Okay, let me lead, Kalim." You said through your laughter.

He nodded sheepishly, instead moving his hands to your shoulder and left hand. You intertwined your left hand with his, and rested your right on his waist.

You were close enough that your could feel his breath on your face.

"Okay, we'll start off slow so you can get the hang of the foot movements."

You looked down at his feet, motioning with your left foot for him to step backwards.

Your left foot went forward and his went back, then both of your right feet went outwards.

"This is the box step, the most basic form of waltz. Right foot forward."

You went around your imaginary boxes a few times before he actually began to understand the formation.

Left foot back, right foot out, right foot forward, left foot out. The dance was simple, and the box kept moving as you rotated around the bonfire in a circular motion.

He was a quick learner, and soon you found he could perform the steps without having to look at his feet.

"Y/N, I think I have a hang of it!"

You chuckled quietly, nodding, "I believe so!"

Although the box step wasn't usually performed around a bonfire, yours moved perfectly.

Now Kalim could go back to his dorm to tell Jamil about his partner dance.

"This is actually really fun." His voice had lowered to a whisper, and he was looking at you with a smile.

You smiled back, gently butting your forehead against his.

"Well yea, and it's simple too!"

The box step was a simple four-step rotation dance. Some would even call it boring if it drawled on for too long.

But the two if you continued on waltzing late into the night. You took this as time to share your thoughts and woes, held closely together, hands knitting to each other.

This was your time with Kalim. Just you, Kalim, and the autumn air.

[mortalis-arc]

𝐮𝐫𝐥   𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠   𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

i   saw   someone   do   this   on   my   dash   like.   last   Week   n   i   can't   remember   who   it   was   but   i   remember   it   was   like   .   .   .   take   each   letter   of   ur   url   and   name   a   song   that   u   associate   w   ur   muse   starting   w   that   letter   or   something   !?   oh   well   if   im   doing   it   wrong   then   <3   i   like   this   way   better   <3   gjdfjgb

𝐌   —   masochist   by   polaris   —   i   could   ask   you   to   stay   if   you're   feeling   forgiving.   i   could   live   with   the   guilt   if   you   call   this   living.   i   could   try   to   memorize   each   grain   of   sand   as   it   slips   through   my   fingers   and   falls   from   my   hands.   it   took   me   longer   than   i'd   care   to   admit   :   this   life   is   only   what   i   choose   to   make   of   it   and   the   only   thing   standing   in   between   happiness   and   myself   was   this   depression   i   held   so   close   to   my   chest.

𝐎   —   origin   by   currents   —   we're   dying   in   the   storm   while   our   world   lays   burning   beneath   the   embers.   we   choke.   we're   nothing   but   a   memory   ,   a   bed   of   atrophy   ,   a   resting   place.   and   though   the   rain   grows   heavy   ,   our   tears   will   never   dull   the   flames.

𝐑   —   resentment   by   a   day   to   remember   —   i've   got   this   chip   on   my   shoulder   ,   so   i   press   the   issues   on   sight   !   for   all   who   need   introduction   :   welcome   to   the   eye   of   the   tiger   ,   go   !

𝐓   —   talk   to   a   friend   by   slaves   —   step   inside,   this   is   my   confession   :   i   let   resentment   turn   into   a   deep   depression.   i   spend   the   next   five   lines   asking   bad   questions.   how   could   i   hit   rock   bottom   never   learning   a   lesson   ?   do   i   deserve   this   hurting   ?   if   my   body   goes   limp   ,   would   i   float   to   the   surface   ?   or   can   i   live   in   a   world   with   no   purpose   ?   how   could   i   change   when   i'm   still   the   same   person   ?

𝐀   —   the   abandoned   by   memphis   may   fire   —   how   was   i   supposed   to   know   when   you   left   me   here   ,   you   left   me   here   alone   ?   do   i   ever   even   cross   your   mind   just   for   a   second   ?   do   you   know   i'm   alive   ?   if   you   would've   been   there   ,   if   you   would've   stuck   around   ,   if   you   would've   been   there   when   i   needed   you   —   you   would've   been   so   proud   !

𝐋   —   low   by   wage   war   —   hard   to   think   we   were   born   to   live   this   way   :   burning   bridges   ,   ripping   stitches   out   to   drown   the   pain.   bleed   me   out   ,   run   me   dry   ,   watch   the   hammer   fall.   let   the   river   run   and   bury   me   beneath   it   all.

𝐈   —   i   stole   from   the   dead   by   megosh   —   class   ,   take   five   ,   let’s   review   our   anatomy   !   you’ve   got   your   black   heart   dry   humping   your   chest   ,   and   its   roots   spread   through   to   infect   all   the   rest.   and   the   lungs   breathe   ,   keeping   air   from   your   head.   though   these   eyes   of   mine   are   white   ,   all   i   keep   seeing   is   red.

𝐒   —   sleepwalking   by   bring   me   the   horizon   —   your   eyes   are   swallowing   me.   mirrors   start   to   whisper   ,   shadows   start   to   sing.   my   skin's   smothering   me   ,   help   me   find   a   way   to   breathe.   time   stood   still   ,   the   way   it   did   before   :   it's   like   i'm   sleepwalking   !   fell   into   another   hole   again   :   it's   like   i'm   sleepwalking   !

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

57 Pings

The prompt from anonymous was this:

From the prompt list!! Can I get #51 w/Cayde-6 x female hunter reader? I don’t see any Destiny stories on ur page but it look like u mentioned it!🙏🏻

Cayde-6 x Female Hunter!Reader

Warnings: fighting and non-descriptive mentions of dying

1,698 words

“He is pinging us, again.”

You banked your sparrow against the Exodus Black debris sending up a spray of sand and dirt as your ghost spoke in your ear. Your cloak whipped around you, slapping against your helmet once, making you feel even more aggravated than you did 10 seconds before it happened. Usually you weren’t so sloppy or reckless on your sparrow, but according to the 57 pings from your Vanguard, time was of the essence.

“Open the communication channel.”

Static briefly filled your helmet before it turned to voices. The first full statement directed to you came from a cheery, robotic voice you recognized with ease, “Captain! Welcome back! The Cayde-6 is once again in grave danger, are you here to provide assistance?” Glitching static turned into a disappointed, dreary version of the robotic voice, “Somebody needs to put out the fire he’s caused.”

“Yes, I’m here to help the dumbass. Where is Cayde-6, Failsafe? Is he still in the Glade of Echoes?”

“Why yes, I am, and I do not appreciate the tone or derogatory comment on my intelligence.” Cayde replied himself and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. A pack of Fallen fired on you as your sparrow flew by them, but you just hunkered down onto your seat and sped up.

Nessus scenery was a blur of red and white around you as you finally reached an open portion of the terrain where you could really open up the engine. Failsafe, both her cheery and depressed side, rattled off another comment this time directed at the Exo himself.

“Just know this, Vanguard.” You interrupted whatever he was replying to Failsafe to speak up, “If the Vex and Fallen don’t kill you, I will.”

“Oof. Vanguard? You’re really upset at me aren’t, you? Did I interrupt something important? Were you—”

You groaned, “Shouldn’t you be shooting and not talking?”

“I’m a very good multi-tasker.”

You took another sharp turn and the sound of gunfire and yelling filled the air. The Glade of Echoes was not your favorite spot to visit on Nessus even on a normal day. It was a mess of metal wreckage where Vex and Fallen liked to wage war against one another, and there was just enough tunnels and coverage spots that made fighting back a giant pain in the ass.

A large Vex minotaur stood in an alley opening firing toward a half-broken billboard relentlessly while a smaller pack of Vex goblins fired at a pack of Fallen that were also shooting at the billboard. Something told you that’s where you’d find a certain, impossible Exo.

You drove your sparrow straight into their warpath and leaped off last minute. The sparrow tumbled into the goblins while you slid under the Minotaur, between its legs, tossing up a grenade at it at the same time. Shots were fired at you, you didn’t even know who from, but you ducked and rolled toward the billboard. The grenade went off, throwing the minotaur off balance, and you took this opportunity to climb up the wreckage and dive behind the cover it provided.

“Well howdy, Guardian.”

Cayde-6 was crouched down in front of you. His back was pressed against the wall and his hand cannon, Ace of Spades, was held up in front of him ready to fire when needed. His signature cloak’s hood was pulled up as per usual but none of the hood hid the smug look on his blue, metallic face.

You dismissed your helmet, letting strands of your [hair color] hair fall into your face. Cayde’s glowing blue eyes were trained on you and his jaw flashed yellow as he spoke, “Welcome to the party.”

“How did you manage to make every living thing in the vicinity angry at you?”

“Hmm, good question.” He held a finger up and motioned it toward you, “Why are you angry at me? That might help me figure out an answer.”

You pulled out your own hand cannon and Cayde’s eyes darted to it before landing back on you. Quickly, you made sure it was fully loaded and Cayde mimicked your actions. This wasn’t the first time the two of you were up against a crowd of angry enemies who wanted you dead. As Hunters, working as a team didn’t come naturally to either of you granted. It took years before you found a fireteam you trusted or worked well with. Cayde-6, though? Working with him was never difficult. Interacting with him was effortless, and you’d done it enough now that much talk wasn’t needed.

Your Vanguard gave you a look, and you returned it with one of your own. His eyes lit up with amusement as you brought your helmet back into place. Cayde nodded once, and then the two of you went to work. In a flurry of gunfire and solar energy, the two of you took out Vex and Fallen alike one by one.  Their numbers dwindled down to only a handful.

You fired your last shot, blowing a particularly annoying Fallen away, and then backtracked away from the corpse while reloading your weapon. As you turned, you watched as Cayde threw out his knife, taking out a Vex, and fired the Ace of Spades point blank into the face of a Fallen that leapt toward him.

One Vex crept out from behind a lump of broken metal and snuck up behind Cayde. You hadn’t finished reloading but gave up on it to grab your knife in your opposite hand. Without hesitation you lunged forward and buried it into the back of its head at the same time that Cayde spun around with his gun up.

The barrel was aimed at your head for only a second or two before Cayde grabbed the cloth of your cloak wrapped around your neck, yanking you towards him. He kept his grip tight on you as you stumbled into his chest and then he fired two shots towards enemies behind you. You glanced over your shoulder in time to see the last two Vex fall to the ground in sparks.

“Captain! The two of you did amazing! Thanks to you, the area is clear.” Failsafe spoke over the comm channel in her typical flip-flopping ways, “Granted, it was your fault the area was flooded with enemies anyways.”

Your shoulders relaxed and you put your hand cannon back into its holster. It was only then that you realized Cayde still had one hand tangled in your cloak, and now his other hand twitched at his side as his gaze didn’t waver from your helmet.

“Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” Cayde said in a tone that held amusement and something you didn’t quite recognize.

You dismissed your helmet again, gave him a soft smile, and replied, “No.”

His blue eyes blinked in shock, and you took his confusion as an opening to untangle yourself from him. Cayde rubbed the back of his neck, the confusion still evident on his features, “Well, either I’m bad at reading a room or you just ruined a perfectly romantic moment.”

“Romantic moment?” You scoffed, “Cayde, you’ve ignored me for nearly a month now and suddenly just call me up out of the blue to save your ass on Nessus randomly??”

You shook your head and brushed past him to leave the area. Maybe you’d stop by and see Failsafe in person before taking off entirely. That thought was interrupted as Cayde caught up to you with ease, “So that’s why you’re upset at me, huh?”

It was silly to be upset at this situation which was why you tried to avoid thinking about it the past month. There was too much going on in your life, and the universe, for you to worry yourself on the Hunter Vanguard dodging your messages and calls.

Cayde whipped around to stand in front of you, forcing you to come to a screeching halt, “Hold on, hold on.”

“What?” You crossed your armored arms over your chest tightly and twisted your lips in annoyance and embarrassment.

“Yes, I did sort of ignore you for a month and that is on me.” Cayde spoke with his hands, “But in my defense I was… thinking about something.”

You scoffed, “Oh, you were? Hope you didn’t hurt yourself too badly.”

You tried to push around him again, but Cayde side stepped easily and stopped you. This time he kept his hands on your shoulders as he spoke, “You said we should hang out more.”

That was accurate. On one of your last missions together, before the silent treatment, you suggested that the two of you should spend more time together. It came from an after-mission buzz of confidence. Things had gone very well, the two of you walked away with some great loot, and the words slipped out before you even really knew what you were asking. Cayde had nodded in response, went his own way, and then hadn’t talked to you until today when he sent a random message asking for back up on Nessus.

“Cayde-”

“I want to hang out more.” He said quickly. For the first time in a long time, maybe the first time ever, you saw hesitance on his face. Cayde-6 was a lot of things, but hesitant was not one. He tore his gaze away briefly before settling it back on you, “Sorry it took me some time to work through it and figure it out.”

Your own features softened and Cayde squeezed your shoulders with both hands. With a sigh, you lifted one of your hands to set on top of one of his, “When I said hang out more, I meant like get a drink. Notpiss off every Vex and Fallen in a 2-mile radius.”

Cayde shrugged and shifted so his hands on your shoulders turned to one of his arms hanging off it. You responded by putting your own arm around his waist as the two of you continued walking through the now abandoned Glade of Echoes, “Who says we can’t do both?”

[hiuythn]

sorry to ask, but i saw u shared hc for the sick anon, im going thru a rough patch and ur fic rly cheered me up. Can i get some hcs as well?

this is how keith asks lance to marry him:

so we all know how from the beginning, from the moment things got resolved at the end of tnahp, that keith’s been upfront about never leaving lance. everyone knows he’s going to put a ring on that. he’s said it to lance’s face. “what else am i gonna do with you?”

it’s not until six years later that he actually does anything though. mostly bc of the war and the aftermath.

the team are in a meeting with the coalition, boring stuff, routine stuff, and the mind link is closed, bc sometimes keith and lance need breaks. he’s lucky that it was, though, because what happens next in his mind would’ve been enough to make lance fall out of his seat and ruin the meeting and coran would’ve killed them both lmao

lance is paying attention even though he looks just as bored as keith. diligent, as always. he’s even got a holoscreen projected, taking lazy notes. there are faint little sketches of the coalition members and the team. one is of shiro, snoring, comical Zs above his head. keith bites down on his cheek.

lance is twirling the pen in his left hand.

keith looks at that and thinks, loud and clear, there should be a ring on his finger.

he sits back.

huh.

it should be a surprise, he decides after a quiet minute. lance deserves that. it should be at the right moment, the right words, the right place. it should be soft and genuine and such a sweet shock that it takes lance seconds to reply. it should make his blue eyes fill with tears, it should make him curl into a ball before keith, who’ll still be kneeling, ring box open and laughing at him because wow, that’s nice reaction, lance. it should be a proposal so perfect that it makes lance kind of mad, makes him shove keith, makes him pout that frustrated-loving-happy pout.

(bros, as a gay, this is kind of really fucking gay)

keith spends the rest of the meeting laying out proposal plans. lance gets exasperated when he finds out keith remembers nothing of the meeting. “dude, you--tell me again, who’s the leader of voltron, here?” “it’s allura.” “....okay, but who flies bl--”

and some people might ask, what’s the point, if you’re already levertan-married? if you’ve mind-linked and basically achieved the pinnacle of ‘joining hands in holy matrimony’?

keith’s answer would probably be something like ‘fuck off, i love him that’s why’

(ngl that’s hella romantic. no? just me?)

the long answer is that he knows lance is a romantic. that he really likes gestures of affection, that his face gets all rosy and he always tries to bite back his smiles, and he gets so pleased and flustered and also adorably angry every time keith does anything for him. keith’s in love with that. he goes absolutely dumb over making lance happy, he’s fucking obsessed with it. every neuron in keith’s stupid head is devoted to lance like 24/7.

(it’s a given that lance is the same, if not worse. how tf do they get anything done?)

plus, levertan-married doesn’t really mean the same as human-married.

so keith--somehow--manages to pull off thinking up proposal plans without closing the link, without lance knowing--maybe bc his thoughts are purposefully fragmented like ‘white chocolate? milk?’ or ‘speakers? mic?’ or ‘beach sand feels sandy’ and yes it sounds absolutely dumb but it’s clever because after a while lance tunes it out. though, at the beginning, it really fucking worried him because it sounded like keith was having a stroke LMAO

over the next couple months, keith steadily puts his plan together: get the ring, figure out what to say, speak to allura about detouring to earth for some r&r, speak to shiro about not fucking things up for keith because i know you’ll do that somehow shiro no are you serious of course you would you’re evil do you even remember that time i said no to inviting people for my fourteenth birthday and you did it anyway even though i was looking forward to just playing video games for the whole day??? i had to deal with james griffin in my goddamn house you ass--

the day keith asks, everything--surprisingly--goes really well? like suspiciously so. like keith’s really glad but he’s itching to reach for his knife by the end of it, bc he was prepared for shiro to have done sth by now. 

but nah, keith and lance have a lovely day hanging out, doing activities keith planned and things lance spontaneously suggests. the weather is a perfect breezy, sunny day. when the sun sets they wordlessly head for the beach. lance chases keith though the surf. they throw clumps of wet sand at each other. keith hoists lance in his arms, listening to him yell as keith spins them around. lance picks him up and tosses him into the shallows, that fucking jerk. lance gets keith to forgive him. lance gives keith his shirt, goes half-naked for keith’s shivering form. ‘i’m going to get a cold,’ lance says. ‘and i’m not?’ keith snorts. they walk down the beach and lance tells him stories, pointing to this rock or that spot and saying oh i broke my arm there or dude i saved a baby turtle from a seagull that day and keith soaks it all up like he’s the sand and lance is the ocean waves, coming back to him every time.

lance hops onto a rock, demonstrating to keith how he used to pretend he was a sea prince looking for mermaids. the winds play with his hair, the setting sun brushing golden against his bare chest and the grin on his lips. like this, he’s a foot or two taller than keith.

keith gets down on one knee.

it’s lance’s fault that the ring box is damp, but he’s lucky this thing is olkari-made, because when keith opens it up, the ring shines just as bright as lance. almost as bright. it tries its best but keith really only has eyes for his soulmate.

keith says:

every day, i want to choose you. every day, i want to get to choose you. every day, growing up like i did, was spent learning what i needed to live, what food or drink or mantra was needed to make it another day alone. my body forced to me to focus on its needs, on the bare essentials. if i went a month without a caring touch, it didn’t matter, because it hadn’t killed me yet.

before i fell for you, i don’t think i knew what it meant to want. i never had a chance to think about it, a second to indulge. if i wanted a home, a family, it was a weakness, a distraction, and i couldn’t let myself admit it. so i never learned to want.

the only other thing that comes closest to what i feel for you is probably flying. it’s that addiction to diving through the clouds, it’s free-falling, it’s soaring with my heart in my throat. and even then, even now that i know you, it doesn’t quite compare. it’s a poor substitute.

in this world we exist in, where some force out there knows exactly what we need, who we need, it’s kind of a miracle that i still got to choose you. i’m glad i got the moments where it hurt to think of you, because i wanted you so bad i couldn’t stand not having you. i’m glad i got to slowly realize that you were everything to me, on my own time. it was my own conclusion, my own resolution to love you because you were you, and not because you were someone i was supposed to love. the universe kind of tricked us, but i think she meant well.

and now i know, that even in a world where soulmates didn’t exist....i know i’d still want you.

i want to want you, every day. i want to wake up wanting you, every day, fall asleep wanting you every night. i want to leave for missions wanting you, want to stay behind watching you go, wanting you to return faster than you can. i want you to want me, too. i want a ring on our fingers, reminding me that you do, that you feel the same and you always will.

i want to marry you, lance mcclain.

will you marry me?

[lilsungie]

lil’ love potion

a/n: wow i fin a ll y wrote something i had a strong idea for, what a s h o c k e r, anyway i had a fun time writing this since wow i wuv hyuck n everything he does is just ama zin g. its dedicated to my lil sunflower @neo-cult-ure !! hope you enjoy it :( (kinda shakey because of caffeine and lack of sleep so pl s dont pay attention to spelling mis ta kes ) 

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

summary: donghyuck, your crush, dance teacher, and friend, has you come over after a late night of practice.

The boy sighed as he walked around the small studio, waiting for you to come through the doors at any minute. He was stressed obviously, not knowing how to make you learn the dance faster, not because you had to or anything was rushing the two of you, it's just that he noticed you getting frustrated whenever you would mess up or fall a bit on the tempo. He knew how it could be for a person that had just started learning their favorite idols' dances, it reminded him a bit too much of how he used to be when he'd started. Though, he did get a bit more help from his relatives, yknow, being a wizard and all he had books that had been handed down to him that he refused to use unless it was extremely needed. He played the song, wanting to start with something easy so a girl group's song would've been easier on your body, structure and all.

"FANCY" had started blaring through the speakers, the boy running to the middle of the room to get in position and revise what he had taught himself that morning, seeing if he would mess up because that would be catastrophic in his mind, messing up while teaching you something you thought he was good at. His masculine body moved through as gracefully as possible, though he nailed the whole dance, he still found where he messed up, going over and over the same part till he got it completely right, for you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he kept on exclaiming, running a hand through his hair before he slumped down on the ground, running the small drops of sweat that had started to form on his forehead and cheeks. You'd been watching him dance the part over and over, impressed, though confused on why he was being so hard on himself when even you didn't see the mistake. When he'd fallen over you quickly ran over thinking he passed out or something from exhaustion, which wasn't such a rare occurrence and was making you worry about the boy even more.

"Donghyuck," you said, pressing your cold hands to his wet and pink cheeks, "Are you okay?" He sighed out and you wondered what had been stressing him so badly, whether it was the dance or schoolwork. Truth be told, it had been you and your cute face that made him so flustered and forced him to close his eyes and roll on his tummy from how fast his heart was beating. "Geez, could you stop stalking me," he scoffed and managed to pull himself up before leaning over to hug you, the soft smell of not only your shower gel but also your coffee made everything he was saying about himself go away. It was obvious to everyone how much he liked you, he practically adored you and the thought of you being with him, though there were times where he thought you wouldn't even dare to do with someone like him. "Are you ready? Do I have to tie your shoelaces again just like the last few billion practices?" he teased you because he knew you were clumsy and couldn't bother to tie them amid practice.

You guys played around for a bit before starting to warm up, the new odd exercises making your hips sore out of nowhere. He knew you wouldn't be flexible and would need to warm up lots, he cared for you and a sprained muscle was the thing he wouldn't want to happen to you. Once he'd started teaching you, you noticed how he positioned your arms and used a different count-system to make you get accustomed to the tempo, catching the beat, everything you didn't bother about focusing because his voice counting to the melody was enough for you to remember it. You were happy with how quick he'd helped you learn since he knew you were impatient with yourself just like he was with himself. You danced along with him and managed to finish the intro and the first part that lead to the chorus, feeling happy and satisfied with yourself, for the most part, you leaned over to Donghyuck, wrapping your arms around him and whining, "Hyuck, I'm tired, can we go now? Let's finish it tomorrow!" you said and heard him sigh, though he knew it was too late to just let you go home by yourself, so you'd stay over at his place for a bit.

It was a quiet walk to his place, the boy seemed fairly off about something but he didn't dare say anything whenever you asked if he was okay or not. Even if he did seem okay he had a lot on his mind, wondering how the fuck he was going to hide the books from his parents before you even managed to see them. His apartment was a mess, potion recipes all over the place, hopefully, however, you wouldn't notice them once you walked inside. All of the recipes were some form of 'love' potion and he wasn't just going to reveal his never-ending crush on you, nor was he going to try out one on you and not reverse it immediately, similar recipes to reversal spells all over his living room floor. He was thoughtful, he knew he had flaws more than a normal person would, which is why he'd thought you wouldn't be interested in him, he was too weird for you to like him like that.

"Donghyuck!" he snapped out of his worried thoughts and looked up at you with a slightly tilted head, "Unlock the door," you said blankly and the boy mentally kicked himself for not noticing that the two of you had been standing for quite a while in the cold. He apologized before quickly unlocking the door and running in first to pick up all of the papers everywhere but before he could do anything your figure rushed inside right behind him. "What are these?" you asked, picking up one of the pieces of paper from his hands, the boy swallowing a bit too hard at the thought of what you'd think. "Ah! This would be fun to make!" You pointed the paper to Donghyuck, "You have the ingredients, right?" he nodded, head slumping down as he set all of the papers down and decided to take your coat and bag.

"You wanna," he stopped in his tracks to his room a bit, "You want some of my clothes? To like, get comfy and all?" he asked you and of course you couldn't pass up the option to wear something of his, he always smelled so nice and his clothing was always loose around you. You followed him and he gave you a pair of pajamas before leaving the room to change in the bathroom and let you have your peace. Once the two of you met back in the living room, the actual potion-making had started, gathering all the ingredients first was the most important thing before you moved to the kitchen. It did state that the potion had to be put in a warm glass bottle before drunk, and so, the boy provided everything that you needed, even if some of the ingredients sounded a bit odd. "Did you put a pan outside to collect rainwater for this?" He hummed in response, watching you shrug and pour in the water, his lower lip between his teeth. He knew it would work since he was in presence, he was scared that he might not be able to reverse it after a while, however.

After about an hour and a half, the whole house smelled like apple pie, Donghyuck jumping up to take it off of the stove, telling you that he'll bring it over in a bit. He wasn't going to taste it since you had wanted it he was going to leave it for you. He watched you drink it up bit by bit, his leg moving up and down, squeezing his fingers, biting his lip, he was anxious. "How is it?" he asked, "Do you feel anything?" You raised your brow at him, shaking your head, "What am I supposed to feel?"

"Love."

"This potion didn't make my love for you even stronger, it sucks," you blurted out, raising the little bottle to take in the little sip that was left, the last sentence you'd said out of the blue making him confused. He felt a bit relieved, maybe it was the potion working."It doesn't even taste like apple pie," you pouted before looking at him and his expression. He was blushing. "Hyuckie, what's wrong? Did I say something bad?" you asked him over and over and he still couldn't believe what he'd heard you say. He moved without thinking and sat next to you, bringing his knees to his chest and moving one hand to softly trace over your fingers.

He was calm and happy for once, "You really like me?" he mumbled out and glanced at you, his grey bangs covering most of his eyes so you weren't able to see how teary-eyed he'd become. You softly grabbed his hand, earning a small gasp of relief from the boy, Hyuck, of course, I like you, I think I've been pretty obvious about that by now," you sand softly and turned toward him, your other hand grabbing to caress his cheek, "You're literally the cutest person ever, how could i not?" You felt your hand encounter something wet, probably a tear that he shed because he'd never really been complimented on his cuteness. "I really like you too," he said, "Like, more than a lot, it's indescribable even," he quickly leaned over to press a peck on your cheek, your skin encountering his burning and pink cheeks. He was shy, embarrassed even and too scared to initiate anything in case you were uncomfortable. Though you weren't disappointed when you'd kissed him, he didn't move for a second, not realizing what was happening at the moment, it was a shock to him. Eventually, he kissed back and pulled you closer, his hands gently resting on your waist as he pulled you even closer, letting out a soft whine when he'd pulled back because of lack of air. "Wanna make another potion tomorrow?" he asked softly, knowing he would suddenly be interested in the books he was given on his birthday, happy to see you agree.

The two of you fell asleep on his couch that night, happy that somehow his weird magic scripts brought the two of you together.

[agentunwin]

Why [Popstar!Y/N x Shawn Mendes] [Part 2]

A/N: [REQUESTS ARE OPEN!] This chap. is written in 3rd person! It’s also just fluff lmao. Woops

Prompt: After the hitting it off at the photo shoot, Shawn keeps his promise and shows you around his favorite places in Toronto. [Based off Shawn’s song Why].

Words: 2,459

Warnings: Cursing

Tag: @yourwonderbelle

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4*

-

A knocking at the hotel room door caused Y/N to stir, groaning loudly into her pillow. Her hands blindly felt around for her phone. When she finally found it, her tired eyes roamed over the texts she’d missed, a small smile playing on her lips.

From: Shawn

hey, this is shawn! noel gave me ur #

what kind of coffee do u like?

hello??

Y/N chuckled to herself, thinking of how nice it would be to get texts from him every morning. But she was getting too ahead of herself. 

The knocking occurred again, finally catching her full attention. With a sigh she climbed out of bed and to the door, swinging it open, expecting to see Noel or her bodyguard. 

Instead, there Shawn stood, and her cheeks went bright red. He stood in his sweatpants and jean jacket, hair curly and wild, and Y/N wondered how someone could look so perfect so early in the morning. Meanwhile, she stood in front of him with only a t-shirt and panties, her hair looking like she just completed the walk of shame.

In his hand was a cardboard cup tray with all 4 of the holes holding 4 different drinks. He smiled at the girl bashfully, “Hey, your bodyguard let me up. And uh, you didn’t respond to my texts, so I just bought 4 different coffees for you to pick from..”

All she could do was giggle, holding her burning face in her hands. “Come in, I’m so sorry I’m only just waking up.”

“It’s cool, I just wanted to come by a little early so we’d have a lot of time later.” Shawn assured her, placing the coffees on the table. “When do you leave, by the way?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Y/N frowned, suddenly feeling uncomfortable standing in front of him, practically bare. She crossed her arms over her chest for a little bit of decency and Shawn noticed this, his own face going beet red.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, Y/N!” He raised his hands, turning around to face the window. “I didn’t even notice you weren’t dressed. I’ll leave and come back if you want me to?”

“It’s okay, Shawn.” She shook her head, bending down to gather clothes from her suitcase, “I’m going to go get ready, and we can leave when I come out.”

-

Y/N grabbed the coffee cup she’d chosen from Shawn, bringing it to her lips, taking a sip, and leaving a noticeable ring of lipstick in its wake. Shawn, across the small cafe table, was busy pouring an excess amount of sweetener into his own cup, cursing to himself when he finally gave up on trying to change it.

“This is nice,” Y/N spoke, looking around the breakfast spot he’d guided her to first. It wasn’t crowded and they sat on the outside patio facing the street, peacefully watching the cars and people go by. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Not really, but it is one of my favorites.” He smiled, nodding his head as he leaned his arms on the table. “I wish I could come more, but people start noticing where you go, ya’know? So now, it’s more of a special occasion place.”

Y/N hummed in agreement, her fingers lightly circling the rim of her coffee cup. “Well in that case, I’m honored.”

Shawn gave the girl a weepish smile and, as it had been all morning, she felt her heart melting at the looks he gave her. The waitress came to the table carrying a tray of their food and set their respective orders in front of the two.

“This looks so good, oh my god.” Y/N moaned to herself, taking out her phone. She wasn’t one to take pictures of her food, but this time, she couldn’t help it. The pancakes were perfectly brown and covered in strawberries and powdered sugar. Shawn, on the other hand, settled for french toast and eggs.

“So,” She began, picking up her fork and turning her attention back to him, “Tell me about yourself!”

“Not much to say.” Shawn shrugged, averting his gaze from hers.

“Oh, come on.” Y/N rolled her eyes, pausing to stuff her mouth with a strawberry. “Don’t get boring on me now. Tell me everything.”

He laughed and grabbed a napkin to clean his lips, licking them over before he began speaking again. “Well, I was born here in Toronto, raised about an hour out, though. I never really wanted to be a singer when I grew up but then I saw Youtube videos of people playing guitar and it captivated me. I got one and taught myself how to play and my career really took off when I started posting videos on Vine.”

Y/N shook her head, smiling as the boy went on and on about his life and journey. There were a few times he would go on off topic tangents and tell stories about tours or his friends, and the passion in his voice only further enthralled the girl.

“What about you?” Shawn suddenly asked, taking her off guard when she realized she’d been daydreaming.

She cleared her throat in embarrassment, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Where are you from?” He pressed further just as his phone dinged with a message. Y/N didn’t begin speaking, concerned that the message may have been important. Shawn brought his phone to his face and read over the message, internally groaning.

From: Geoff

Idk what u think ur doing and i wont question you, but pics are already online of u two. be careful

“Is everything okay?” She spoke up as he set his phone back down. 

Shawn nodded quickly, but she could tell that something was off about him. “My friend says there’s already pictures of us. We haven’t even been here for an hour yet, that’s crazy.”

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, pushing her empty plate to the side. “Oh well. It’s not a big deal.”

“People will assume, though..”

“Isn’t the idea of dating me so horrifying?” She quipped sarcastically, making him laugh loudly. “Kidding, but seriously, who cares. People will always assume, we shouldn’t care so much about what they think.”

Shawn pondered for a moment over her words, a comfortable silence falling over the two. He then nodded extremely exaggerated, gathering his trash and piling it onto the plate.

“You’re completely right. Are you ready to go?”

-

“You play any instruments?” Shawn inquired, turning onto some street as the two made their way to, possibly, the last destination of the night.

The sun hadn’t begun to set yet, but it was nearing 5:00, and Shawn insisted that whatever he had planned next would take up the rest of the night.

The time before that was spent walking around the streets of Toronto as he gave her a tour, not missing a single spot. Then, they were on their way to a mall where they’d spent hours shopping together, bonding when she’d embarrassingly dragged him into Victoria’s Secret and he dragged her into every single jewelry store to check out their rings and watches. They also sat at the food court for a long time, and miraculously, nobody had come up to ask for pictures or bother the two. However, this didn’t mean they didn’t spot the paparazzi trying to be sneaky and snap pictures from afar.

Neither of them let it bother them, though.

“No..” Y/N responded, leaning back in the seat as he handed her the aux cord. “But I’ve always wanted to learn how to play guitar.”

“So why haven’t you?” 

She shrugged and bit her lip as her own song began playing over the speakers. “I don’t know, I keep making excuses. I don’t have a guitar, I don’t have time, bla bla.”

Shawn remains silent and she shuts her eyes as he continues down the road.

After 30 minutes he finally pulls into a parking space. When he looks over, he’s not surprised to see Y/N napping peacefully, her head resting on her shoulder. He bites his lip and pulls out his phone, snapping a quick picture of her, flinching hard when he realized the flash was on.

He cursed under his breath when she stirred awake, rubbing at her tired eyes. “What was that?”

“I don’t know!” He said quickly, rubbing the back of his head nervously. “I- Uh- We’re here.. It’s just a small walk.”

She sniffed and nodded, slapping her cheeks a few times to wake herself up. They exited the car together and for the first time that day, they’re approached.

It’s a big group of fans, mostly for Shawn, but some for Y/N. They bombard the two with questions, however none of them asked if they were dating, which they were grateful for. 

Y/N and Shawn were there for a good 20 minutes, taking pictures and talking with fans. A lot of Shawn fans would come up to her and ask about him- What he’s like, what kind of music he listens to, and other things. To which she could only reply by saying “He’s nice” and “I don’t know, I’ve only known him for a day.”

Eventually Shawn was able to ward them off and the two of you were alone again. He popped the trunk to his SUV and got out a large guitar case and a bag. Y/N cocked her head at him but he only motioned for her to follow him.

It was then that she realized where they were; A beach. Now, the sun was beginning to make its descent, casting a beautiful golden glow over the sand. There weren’t many people there- Some were fans from earlier, keeping their distance and watching the two from a respectable distance. And, of course, paps kept their distance as well.

Shawn guided Y/N to the most secluded area he could spot, closer to where the water reached. 

“Can you lay out these towels?” He asked, handing her the bag from earlier. She nodded as he set down his guitar case and got to work on whatever he was doing. Grabbing the towels, she set them down next to one another, placing them in close proximity on purpose.

That wasn’t all that was at the bottom of the bag, however. You reached further and pulled out a container of shortcake cups, a can of whipped cream, wine glasses wrapped in tissue, and a bottle of too-expensive champagne.

“You really went all out.” She commented, settling herself on her towel.

“Only the best for my newest friend.” He smiled, though this time, it didn’t seem convincing even to himself.

He popped the champagne open and Y/N unwrapped one of the wine glasses, reaching it out for him to pour some in. She hummed in appreciation and watched as Shawn clumsily made a hole in the sand to place the bottle in.

He then reached for his guitar, sighing and placing it on his lap. His skilled fingers began to move expertly over the strings, playing a beautiful melody. Y/N merely watched and admired, a beautiful grin on her face.

She was caught off guard when the boy suddenly stopped and pushed the guitar her way. 

He chuckled and insisted, grabbing the glass from her hand and replacing it with his guitar. “I’ll help you, come on.”

With a groan, she gives in, letting him do whatever he wanted. He smiles lazily as he moved her fingers into different positions, explaining the different notes and how to get the best sounds out of them. 

After about 2 hours he’d finally managed to teach her the melody he was playing earlier, a clip from one of his songs. Neither of them could deny the spark that flew every time he touched her or the tingle that shot down their spines when the other spoke.

The rest of the night was spent in comfortable silence, listening to music, eating shortcakes, and drinking champagne. The two were sprawled out on the towels, however, managed to still keep their distance.

Y/N must have been even more tired than she thought, as her eyes fell, and they didn’t open again until Shawn was gently tapping her once again, jolting her awake.

And all of a sudden, she was back in the truck.

“Hey, sleepy head.” He chuckled, walking around to her side of the truck and opening her door. “You fell asleep at the beach. We’re back at the hotel now.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry..” Y/N groaned, sitting up and willing herself to hop out of the car. “Thanks for carrying me, though, you didn’t have to do that..”

“It’s the least I could do since I was the one who wore you out.” He smiles, stuffing his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

The two stood there in silence for a long time, just staring at each other. He towered over her and the height difference made his heart swell, but he’d never admit that.

“Well.” She broke their silence, clapping her hands together. “Thank you so, so much for today Shawn. You’re an amazing host. Please don’t lose touch with me after today, okay?”

“Not a chance,” He shook his head, bringing her into a tight hug. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

She laughed into his chest and he gave her a particularly squeeze, neither of them wanting to let go. However, all good things must come to an end.

He finally let her go after what felt like forever, heading back to the driver’s seat. “Now go, before I change my mind and keep you here. Have a safe flight, text me when you land!”

“Thanks!” She called, waving him off as he pulled away from the hotel, leaving her alone for the first time all day.

-

Though Shawn was gone, he still found one more way to become closer to her, as when she opened the door to her hotel room, she was met with another piece of him.

The guitar that he’d just taught her the melody on hours ago was sitting on the bed next to the case, Shawn’s signature written largely on the bottom with a smiley face and a heart. He must have found a way to sneak it in when she was sleeping in the truck.

She facepalmed and screamed happily into her hand, trying to contain her excitement. Quickly grabbing her phone, she took a picture of it and sent him a text, a perpetual mile-wide grin on her face.

To: Shawn

You sneaky devil. Thank you so so much for EVERYTHING <3

The 3 bubbles at the bottom popped up almost as soon as she’d sent the text and she bit her thumb nervously, awaiting his response.

From: Shawn

It’s no problem, honey. make me proud ;)

[heartsdepth-arch]

 i  started  making  this  post  a  few  days  ago  n  forgot  what  to  put  but  anyway  today  we’re  COPING  with  ur  favorite  master  

      and  the  first  step  is  she’s  gotta  get  some  fucking  sleep  .  sleep  will  do  her  worlds  of  good  even  if  she’s  AFRAID  to  do  it  .  it’s  pretty  much a  given  that  if  she  asked  ventus  or  terra  to  be  with  her  while  she  slept  they’d  both  be  right  there  beside  her  .  the  first  time  she  sleeps  is  literally  bc  she  forgot  that  she  actually  HAS  to  sleep  again  and  her  body  literally  gives  out  on  her  .  she  doesn’t  dream  during  this  first  sleep  in  the  world  of  light  ,  its  simply  black  and  then  she  wakes  up  a day  or  so  later  .  maybe  even  2  days  .  which  probably  worried  her  friends  something  awful  but  she’s  really  just  tired  .  moreso  than  she  thought  .  still  ,  its  not  something  she  overtly  looks  forward  to  doing  .  especially  at  night  ,  in  the  dark  .  if  not  with  ventus  or  terra  she’d  be  more  likely  to  sleep  with  the  lights  on  if  at  all  .  aqua  ,  over  time  ,  learning  to  take  care  of  her  body’s  needs  again  is  very  important  bc  she  went  13 years  w/o  having  to  do  so  at  all  .

     speaking  of  sleep  she’s  not  just  stressed  about  her  sleeping  she’d  also  be  very  worried whenever  ventus  fell  asleep  just  because  ,  well  ,  you  know  .  gotta  hope  he’s  not  in  a  coma  .  unlike  some  spiky  haired  kids  who  try  to  hide  their  trauma  aqua’s  very  open  and  apparent  about  how  hers  affect  her  .  from  simple  things  like  being  poking  ventus  while  he’s  asleep  to  make  sure  he’s  not  in  fact  in  a  coma  to  trying  to  put  a  line  between  her  auditory  and  sensory  hallucinations  and  reality  .  the  darkness plays  tricks  on  the  brain  and  with  enough  time  it  will  break  you  .  she  was  strong  ,  so  much  so  that  even  when  she  faltered  she  didn’t  fall  until  she  was  forced  to  drown  in  it  .  i  can  only  imagine  how  much  worse  things  were  at  the  bottom  of  an  actual  ocean  of darkness  than  on the  sands  in front  of  it  .  to  deal  with  the  hallucinations  aqua  will  often  ( hesitantly )  put  her  hand  on  whomevers  she’s  having  trouble  picking  apart  from  real  or  not ‘s  arm  or   shoulder  .  it’s  a  shaky  touch  because  she’s  half  expecting  them  to  fade  away  through  her  fingers  .  you  can  tell  when  she’s  having  trouble  parsing  whether  you’re  real  or  not  by  the  way  she’s  looking  at  you  .  it’s  quizzical  and  also  fearful  .  reality  is  a  very  distorted  thing  sometimes  .

     she’s  also  so  used  to  being  a  helper  that  not  needing  to  look  over  anyone  ,  or  worry  , is  almost  as  stressful  as  having  to  worry  about  someone  .  to  help  with  this  compulsive  need  kairi  and  the  rest  of  the  girls  probably  introduce  her  to  some  hobbies  like  crafting  nicknacks  (  which  she  was  pretty  good  at  before )  and  gardening .  gardening  especially helped  fill that  need  to  have  something  to  care  for  and  tend  to  .  it  was  also  good  she  could  keep  track  of  its  growth  and  literally  reap  the  fruits  of  her  own  labor  .  one  time  she  read  that  talking  to  plants  made  them  grow  better  and  she  probably vents  to them  .  they  can’t  respond  but  it’s  nice  to  be  able  to  speak  what  she’s  feeling  without  worrying  anyone  . it’s  a  hobby  that  helps  in  more  ways  than  one  .

    it’s  all  a  slow  process  ,  just  like  growing  a  garden  ,  but  it’ll bloom eventually  .

combating  her  new  brand  of  body  dysphoria  is  going  to  be  a  fucking  mess  though  because  it  was  one  thing  to be  trans  and  only  be  dysphoric  on  rare  occasions  but  THIS  .  how  her  body  is  now  ,  changed  against  her  will ?  made  into  something  ugly  at  its  edges  ?  its  not  great  .  especially  since  she  has  trouble  with  mirrors  now  anyway  because  of  the  odd  way  her  reflection  seems  to  be  looking  through  her  and  not  at  her  .  aqua  and  her  dysphoria  is  probably  gonna  need  an  entire  post  for  itself  but  for the  gist  of  this.....

  blease  give  her  ur  support  she’s  trying  so  hard  sob........she’d  probably  grow  berries  .  i  haven’t  decided  on  what  kind  yet  though  bc  some  will overrun  the  entire  garden....just  know  they’d  be  VERY well taken  care  of  .