#joking these moments are so special to me. they are so fleeting.

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

jensen in one of his smiley cuddley moods,, disgusting

[leclerc-hs]

somebody else - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you find yourself at cross ties with an ex! OR charles just really wants you back. warnings: 18+, smut under the cut!, angst!!!!!!!!!, not proofread word count: ~2.2k author's note: sorry if this is lame?? i was feeling really angsty the other night but then never finished it so i finished it just now. maybe I can continue this or maybe I'll leave it as a one-shot only!!! idk but let me know your thoughts :) xoxo ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE DARKENED CLOUDS swirl ominously above you, intermittently lit by flashes of distant lightning that paints fleeting patterns across the sky. The air is cool and charged with the scent of saltwater as you pull your knees into your chest. 

“Did you ever think we would end up here?” His voice mutters beside you, the waves crashing with a muted sorrow in the background, as if echoing the ache that burned in his chest.

The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and dampness, a bittersweet reminder of your shared moments now slipping away. You turned your head to look at him, tugging the corners of your lips upwards into a weak smile.

The burn in your throat made it hard to speak.

“Jamais.” Never.

“I thought we had more time,” You spoke, your voice fragile.

-

You sit nestled on the plush couch, your favorite book lying forgotten in your lap as you emerge yourself into the soft melodies playing in the background. Charles stands by the vintage record player, carefully selecting another vinyl, his movements graceful and deliberate in the dim glow of the room.

The music fills the space. A jazz tune, perhaps, with its smooth saxophone and rhythmic piano. He turns to you eventually, with a smile that practically melts your heart, before extending a hand towards you as an invitation to dance.

“Aren’t you concerned for your toes?” You joke, slipping the book off your lap and onto the couch.

“Concerned?” His lips tug into a small smirk. “You can break all of my toes, and I’d still want to dance with you.”

It doesn’t take much more convincing. A shy grin forms as your hand slips perfectly into his, fingers intertwining effortlessly.

Outside, the city hums softly with the quiet buzz of evening life, but within the cocoon of warmth and music, time seems to stand still. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He mutters as he presses gentle kisses onto your face, one arm wrapped around your waist tightly. “Toe breaking and all.”

Your head falls back as you release a laugh of pure joy. “Je t’aime.” I love you.

“Je t’aime, mon coeur.” My heart.

-

The mornings always held a special charm for him, especially those rare occasions when he found himself awake before you. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but when it did happen, he cherished it deeply. As he woke to the gentle light filtering through the curtains, he would often find himself captivated by the sight of you sleeping peacefully beside him, almost always cocooned into the side of his body.

There was always something so mesmerizing about watching you in those quiet moments of slumber. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your hair fell onto the pillow, and the soft expression on your face created a montage of serenity and beauty that he could never look away from.

He sometimes would just lay there, propped up on one elbow, just taking in every detail of you. The way your eyelashes fluttered silently, the slight curve of your lips, and the way you would sometimes reach out unconsciously, seeking his warmth even in sleep. It always filled him with need for you.

Today, for instance, was one of those mornings. Charles traced the pads of his fingertips softly along the collarbone that was peeking out of his t-shirt that you always stole from him. He didn’t mind though; it was practically yours.

You stirred awake gently, a smile pulling on your lips as you felt Charles hand trail down your torso and slipping under the t-shirt, his hands instantly trailing along the skin of your stomach.

His hands squeezed your sides gently, before pushing you flat onto your back, so he could slip in between your thighs, half his body pressed on top of you.

He peppered kisses to your neck, up to your cheeks, before meeting you at your lips where you awoke with a full-blown smile. 

“Needy this morning, hm?” Your voice was soft, still full of sleep as you felt him gently rut against your core. There wasn’t much fabric between you both, just his boxers and a pair of cotton panties.

“For you?” You could feel his grin against the crevice of your neck and collarbone where he places open-mouthed kisses, sucking gently. “Always.”

It didn’t take much longer before his cock was slipped inside of you. His boxers strewn somewhere along the bedroom floor that you both shared, and your panties pushed only to the side.

“Feel this, mon amour?” He groans softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin as you let your head fall back into the pillows completely. “It’s just for you.”

It starts out slow and lazy. Until you both just can’t take it anymore and he’s flipping you over, pulling you to your knees. 

“Arch your back for me.” He says, the pace of his hips unrelenting as his fingers grip the sides of your hips. “That’s it, mon amour.” 

You can’t help but moan, your knuckles turning white from the harsh grip you claim on the bedsheets. It’s sogood.

His hands find their way to your hair, fisting it tightly as he pulls you up so that your back is pressed to his chest.

“Please,” You beg, in need of a release.

“How bad do you want it?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers trailing along your neck, pressing gently into your soft skin. “C’mon, work for it.”

You begin feverishly rutting your hips, meeting him in the middle. It doesn’t take much longer before your both sent over the edge of your orgasms, collapsing on top of one another in the warm confines of the bed.

“I think we should stay here for the rest of the day.”

-

The tension in the air was palpable, thick with anger that seemed to swirl around the both of you like a storm. You both stood in the middle of the kitchen, a place that usually consists of shared laughter and comfort, now transformed into a battleground.

“How was I supposed to know that she would be there?” His voice was lethal, the veins in his neck protruding from the clench of his jaw.

You were in complete disarray as your fingers continuously ran through the roots of your hair. It’s as if he was listening but wasn’t really listening.

“It’s not about that!” You half-shout back, your voice dwindling towards the end. You were tired. So tired of this. “It’s the fact that you practically forgot I was even there!”

“You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“Pick fights over nothing.”

“So now it’s my fault that you practically spent the entire night talking to your ex-girlfriend as if I wasn’t in the room?”

You felt your temper wearing thin. All you needed was an apology. A sign that he didn’t mean to spend half the night talking to his ex-girlfriend.

“I hate when you do this.”

“I’m so done letting you hurt me like this every time we see her around.” You felt your voice crack. 

“So that’s it? You’re just giving up?” His voice was void of any emotion, but the heavy rise and fall of his chest gave way to just how much this was hurting him to hear.

-

“Can you just stay a little longer?” His voice was raw and full of emotion as he stared at you from the archway of the kitchen. You stood only a few feet away with swollen eyes from crying, and a single suitcase by your side.

You could slowly see the unwavering emotions form across Charles’ face as he stood, staring at you. Sadness, hurt, and anger.

You began to shake your head no, but Charles absolutely refused for that to be your response. He took a small step towards you, which had you immediately holding your hand up, begging for him to stop.

“Please,” Your voice shook. “Don’t make this harder.”

“I love you.” He emphasizes. He runs his hands through his hair like he’s in distraught. Because he is. How did it get to this point?

When you couldn’t even say the words back, was Charles’ final undoing. He knew you still did. But he neededto hear you say it. He knew it was selfish. Considering, this was all his doing. His actions.

“You keep hurting me every time we come across her.” You void your sentence of any emotion. Trying your best to hold it together, at least exteriorly. “I can’t be with you when it seems like you want her.”

“I only want you!” He can feel the panic forming in his chest as he sees you make your way to grab the handle of your suitcase.

“It’s too late.” 

-

It’s been seven months since then. Most would say that’s not much, but to Charles it felt like eternity. It would be a lie if you said it didn’t too. But still you moved on. Or at least tried to.

You and Charles regardless of the break-up we’re always still involved in some way. You both knew it was impossible to shut each other out completely. Especially when you both live in the same small city, have the same childhood friends, and live not even a mile away from each other.

So, when you arrive to one of your best friend’s birthday party, hand in hand with another man, you could imagine the burn of nerves that flood your stomach as you spot Charles across the room.

“Mon dieu!” Your friend erupts in a raised voice. “We finally get to meet Andrew!” She pushes the door open widely, allowing room for you and Andrew to step through the threshold.

A short silk dress adorns your body, the perfect shade of blue that embellishes your summer tan. You avoid looking in Charles’ direction as you gather your belongings onto a designated table, where everyone’s belongings also lie. 

You’ve been seeing Andrew for a few weeks, it’s all still relatively new. But he was sweet and caring, and so thoughtful.

You feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment as your friend announces Andrew as ‘your new boyfriend’ because he isn’t your boyfriend. But, you can’t find it in your heart to correct her.

It takes a mere thirty seconds for you to drop your belongings down onto the table, before you turn around to meet the eyes of Charles from across the room. 

It feels as if time has stood still as he sends you a small tug of his lips, unsure of how he should act. It’s not that you haven’t seen each other since the break-up, but he hasn’t ever seen you with another man.

You felt in a complete trance, unable to remove your eyes from Charles, until you feel a hand rest on the small of your back. Andrew.

You break eye contact almost instantly, turning your head to smile up at Andrew. He sends you a quick wink, before bringing his lips down to your ear. “Tu veux un verre?” Do you want a drink?

You nod, a soft smile pulled on your lips as you turn towards the direction of the kitchen, pulling Andrew’s hand in yours.

-

“Is it serious?” His smooth voice elicits a quiet shriek and jump as you hand wash the used wine glasses in the kitchen sink, an eruption of goosebumps forming across your skin.

“Excuse me?” You turn to him. Soapy water dripping from your fingertips before you wiped them with a hand towel nearby. 

“Is it serious?” He repeats, his voice unwavering as he steps closer that you need to crane your neck to look at him.

“I know what you said.” You could feel the anger begin to swirl in you like a storm. “What makes you think you deserve to know?”

For a tiny instant, you swore you saw the smirk on his face waver. But, it was so fast that he pulled it back up again.

“I miss you.” He whispers softly, his hand reaches to touch a strand of fallen hair from your face before he tucks it behind your ear.

“You’re not being fair.”

His face falls to a solemn look, letting only you see the actual hurt that he’s been feeling every day since you walked out that apartment door.

“I want you back, mon amour.” He states. “I’ll risk being unfair if it gives me any chance to get you back.”

Your heart was beating rapidly. It’s everything you’ve wanted to hear. But you can’t do this. Not again. Not to Andrew.

“Charles, please don’t do this. Not here.” 

“I know that you love me.” He states. “I know that you do, and you know that I love you. That I’m in love with you and always will be.” His words begin pouring out of him, like a waterfall. 

“We’re broken.” You shrug your shoulders. “We always were.”

You didn’t give him a chance to speak again before you pushed past the confines of his body and back into the living room where all of your friends and Andrew celebrate.

[bryan-writes]

Keepsakes of a hidden heart mammon x reader

Summary: you find a keepsake box hidden under Mammons bed, you find out it’s filled with things that remind him of you <3

Super fluffy, soft mammon, established relationship

Credit to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers :)

Under the gentle flicker of the low-lit room, you found yourself rifling through a small, unassuming box you’d discovered half-hidden under Mammon’s bed. It looked like it had been haphazardly shoved there, but with enough care to keep it safe from the curious eyes of any of his brothers. Immediately interested, you’d pulled it out— completely forgetting about finding your favorite hoodie (of his).

In a house filled with demons and secrets, finding something so personal felt… special. You knew mammon wasn’t one for big gestures, at least not the planned kind. But the box was a testament to something raw and real, with its unpolished appearance and lovingly held keepsakes.

The first item you pulled from the contents was a wrinkled movie ticket. You remembered that night so vividly, the way Mammon had tried to play it cool as he offered to take you out to a movie “just cause he was bored.” But you knew the truth; he’d been fidgeting, sneaking glances, trying to hide the spark in his eyes. It was an action movie— explosions and over-the-top stunts. But halfway through, Mammon’s hand had found yours, fingers fumbling a bit as if he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. He hadn’t let go until the credits rolled, and was even reluctant to let you go then. Now, as you gently held the ticket in your hands, you realized he had kept it as proof of that little victory, a reminder of the night he dared to hold your hand in the dim light of the theater.

Then there was a small, doodled note with a ridiculous caricature of Lucifer wearing glasses that Mammon had drawn in one of your many free moments in class. It was simple, silly even, but it had been you who had egged him on, whispering ideas as you both laughed quietly in the back of the lecture hall. You hadn’t noticed at the time, but Mammon must have held onto that scrap of notebook paper, like a private joke meant only for the two of you— a memory, immortalized by a poorly sketched Lucifer with eyebrows furrowed and glasses crooked.

”Hey, Y/N!” Mammon’s voice snapped you back to reality, a hint of panic coloring his tone.

Your gaze shot up to see him standing at the door, eyes wide, his cheeks flushed with a shade too bright for his usual demeanor. “What’re ya doin’ with that?” His usual bluster was there, but it sounded thin, like it was more for show than anything else.

You bit your lip, smiling softly. “I… I found this. It’s really cute, Mammon.”

Mammon fumbled, trying to snatch the box back, but you held onto it gently, pulling out a small bracelet made of cheap, colorful beads. It was slightly frayed, as if it had been through a few too many close calls. You remembered it well— Mammon had won it for you at a fair, some human world event he’d dragged you to, insisting he’d win the biggest prize. Instead, he’s managed a small, kitschy beaded bracelet, but the moment he clasped it around your wrist, he’d looked so proud.

“Why… Why do you keep these things?” You asked softly, curiosity and affection mingling in your gaze as you looked at him.

Mammon’s gaze flickered, unsure, like he was debating how much of himself he could afford to let you see. He scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere but you. “I dunno,” he muttered, voice a bit rougher than usual. “S’just… they mean somethin’, ya know?”

When he finally met your gaze, there was a softness there, a vulnerability you had only ever seen in fleeting moments. He took the bracelet from your hand, rolling the beads gently between his fingers as if recalling the way your eyes had shone under the lights of the fair.

He swallowed, fingers brushing against a crumpled piece of a napkin. “This… this one from the night ya made me laugh so hard, soda came outta my nose.” A small laugh escaped his lips. “I thought I was gonna die from embarrassment, but… ya made it feel like a good memory. I… guess I wanted ta keep that.”

With every object he touched, another story unfolded. The wrinkled petal of a flower you had tucked into his hair during a spontaneous picnic. A tiny, faded polaroid picture of you two at an arcade, Mammon’s arm slung over your shoulder and you half hidden in the crook of his neck, his grin stretched wide and utterly carefree.

It was like listening to the chapter of a love story that Mammon had never found the courage to tell. In the quiet of his room, among all the bits and pieces of your shared memories, it was as though he was giving you a glimpse into his heart, wholly unguarded.

When he reached into the bottom of the box, he pulled out a little golden trinket— a small, old-fashioned key, polished and well-worn. He looked at it for a moment, a wistful smile gracing his lips.

“This… this one’s kinda stupid,” he murmured, holding it up to the dim light. “Got it ages ago. When I was a kid, I used to think it opened a door to somethin’ special. Kept it with me, hopin’ it’d mean somethin’ someday.” He hesitated, his voice lowering. “But I guess… I didn’t really find out what it opened ‘til I met ya.”

Mammon’s words hung in the air, weighty and soft. You felt your heart swell, warmth pooling in your chest as you met his eyes. He looked almost nervous, waiting for some kind of reaction, as if he were baring a piece of himself he’d never meant to show.

You smiled, reaching out to clasp his hand around the small key. “Maybe it opens the door to memories, too,” you whispered. “To all these little treasures you’ve collected along the way.”

Mammon blinked, his blush deepening as he realized how closely you held that moment between the two of you. “Ya… you’re weird, ya know that?” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. But his voice was softer now, and his hand stayed in yours a bit longer than necessary.

You sat in comfortable silence, Mammon’s hand warm against your own, fingers entwined with a gentlest that only he could muster, a soft and unexpected contrast to his usual bravado.

In that quiet moment, you understood. Love was something Mammon held onto in quiet ways— through secret boxes of treasure, hidden smiles, and worn-out trinkets that only mattered because they were tied to a memory of you.

And as he settled beside you, both pouring over every silly, precious item in his “treasure chest,” you knew that you would never really see those little memories the same again. They meant so much more to you now.

[geotjwrs]

boyfriend (18+)

Pairings ; Madison Beer x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; smut

The summer night was warm, and the city skyline glittered like a thousand tiny stars against the deep blue sky. The rooftop party was in full swing, with music pulsing through the air and people dancing under the twinkling fairy lights. Y/N stood near the edge of the roof, chatting with Madelyn Cline, a friend he had just met at the party. She was charming and engaging, and he found himself laughing at her witty comments.

Across the rooftop, Madison Beer was engaged in a conversation with Nick Austin. They were laughing and sharing stories, their chemistry palpable to anyone who observed them. Madison's eyes, however, kept darting towards Y/N, who was too engrossed in his conversation with Madelyn to notice.

Y/N's heart wasn't entirely in the conversation. As much as he enjoyed Madelyn's company, his mind kept wandering back to Madison. They had always had a special connection, a bond that went beyond mere friendship. Their playful banter and mutual teasing were a constant source of amusement for their friends, who often joked about the "will-they-won't-they" tension between them.

Tonight, the tension was different. Seeing Madison laugh with Nick, Y/N felt a pang of jealousy, a feeling that intensified each time Madison glanced over at him. He noticed the way Nick leaned in closer to her, how Madison playfully swatted his arm, and it made his chest tighten.

Madison felt the same way. She watched Y/N and Madelyn with a growing sense of unease. Every time Y/N laughed at something Madelyn said, Madison felt a twinge of jealousy. She hated the idea of someone else capturing his attention, even if it was just for a conversation.

As the night progressed, the intensity of the party escalated. The music grew louder, the lights brighter, and the atmosphere more electric. Y/N's jealousy reached a boiling point when he saw Nick whisper something into Madison's ear, making her giggle and blush. Without thinking, he turned to Madelyn and, in a moment of impulsive jealousy, kissed her.

Madelyn, taken by surprise, kissed him back, but the moment was fleeting. Y/N immediately regretted it, his eyes darting back to Madison. He saw the hurt and anger flash across her face, even from a distance. She excused herself from Nick and made her way through the crowd, heading towards the exit.

Y/N's heart pounded as he pushed through the throngs of people, desperate to catch up with her. He finally found her near the stairwell, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Maddie, wait!" he called out, his voice breaking with emotion.

Madison turned to face him, her eyes blazing. "What the hell, Y/N? You kissed her. Right in front of me."

Y/N ran a hand through his hair, frustration and regret etched on his face. "I know, and I'm sorry. I was jealous. Seeing you with Nick drove me crazy. I couldn't stand the thought of losing you to someone else."

Madison crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering. "Do you have any idea how it felt to see that? To watch you kiss someone else?"

Y/N took a step closer, his voice softening. "It felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest seeing you with Nick. I've been feeling this way for so long, but I was too scared to tell you."

Madison's expression softened slightly, but she still held her ground. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I was afraid," Y/N admitted. "Afraid of ruining what we have. But I can't keep these feelings bottled up anymore. I don't want to be just friends, Maddie. I want you. Only you."

Tears welled up in Madison's eyes as she took a deep breath. "I hate seeing you with other people, too. It kills me. I've been in love with you for so long, but I didn't want to risk losing you."

Y/N closed the distance between them, his hands gently cupping her face. "We've both been so stupid," he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear. "But we don't have to be anymore."

Madison looked into his eyes, her heart pounding. "Promise me you'll never do something like that again."

"I promise," Y/N said fervently. "You're the only one I want. The only one I've ever wanted."

Without another word, Madison closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his in a passionate, desperate kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the unspoken words and hidden feelings they had kept buried for so long. The world seemed to melt away as they finally embraced their love, the intensity of their emotions making the moment electric.

The kiss deepened, their hands exploring each other's bodies with a hunger that had been suppressed for too long. Madison's fingers tangled in Y/N's hair, pulling him closer as their tongues danced together. Y/N's hands roamed down her back, pulling her hips against his as he pressed her against the wall.

The thrill of finally being able to touch her, to feel her warmth against him, was intoxicating. Madison moaned softly into his mouth, her body arching into his touch. Y/N's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses that made her shiver with desire.

"Y/N," she whispered breathlessly, her hands gripping his shoulders. "We can't do this here."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with longing. "I don't care. I need you, Maddie. Right now."

Madison glanced around the empty stairwell, her heart racing. The thrill of being caught added to the excitement, and she nodded, pulling him into a nearby storage room. As soon as the door closed behind them, their lips crashed together again, their hands feverishly removing each other's clothes.

Y/N's hands slid under Madison's dress, his fingers tracing the soft skin of her thighs before hooking into her panties and sliding them down. Madison gasped as his fingers brushed against her, her hips bucking into his touch. She reached for his belt, unbuckling it with trembling hands, eager to feel him against her.

They moved together with a desperate urgency, their bodies pressing together in a frenzied dance of passion. Y/N lifted Madison onto a nearby table, her legs wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself at her entrance. He paused for a moment, their eyes locking as they shared a moment of pure, unfiltered desire.

"I love you, Maddie," he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion.

"I love you too, Y/N," she replied, her voice trembling with need.

With that, he pushed into her, both of them gasping at the sensation. They moved together in a rhythm that was both frantic and tender, their bodies perfectly in sync. The intensity of their connection, the raw emotion and physical pleasure, was overwhelming.

Madison clung to him, her nails digging into his back as he thrust into her with increasing urgency. She felt herself nearing the edge, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Y/N's lips found hers again, their kiss deepening as they both reached their climax, their cries of pleasure muffled against each other's mouths.

As they came down from their high, they held each other close, their breaths mingling as they tried to steady themselves. Y/N gently brushed a strand of hair from Madison's face, his eyes filled with love and tenderness.

"I guess we're not just friends anymore," Madison said with a small, satisfied smile.

"Nope," Y/N agreed, his eyes shining with happiness. "We're definitely not."

They dressed quickly, sharing tender kisses and whispered words of love. As they rejoined the party, hand in hand, they couldn't help but reflect on how their journey had led them to this moment.

Throughout the rest of the night, their friends noticed the change, smiling and congratulating them on finally figuring it out. Y/N and Madison danced under the stars, their hearts full of love and joy. They knew that their friendship had laid the foundation for something truly special, and they were excited to see where their newfound romance would take them.

As the party wound down and the guests started to leave, Y/N and Madison remained on the rooftop, wrapped in each other's arms. The city lights glowed softly in the background, and the night air was filled with the promise of new beginnings.

Madison looked up at Y/N, her heart swelling with affection. "I'm so glad we finally did this," she whispered.

"Me too," Y/N replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It feels like everything has fallen into place."

Madison smiled, her fingers tracing the outline of Y/N's jaw. "I want more of you," she said softly, her eyes filled with a mix of longing and love.

Y/N's eyes darkened with desire, his breath hitching at her words. "Let's get out of here," he suggested, his voice low and husky.

They quickly made their way down the stairs and out of the building, the night air cool against their flushed skin. Y/N hailed a cab, and they climbed in, unable to keep their hands off each other. Madison's fingers traced the lines of his face, her lips finding his in a series of slow, deep kisses.

The ride to Y/N's apartment felt like an eternity, the tension between them crackling with electricity. As soon as they reached Y/N's apartment, they practically stumbled through the door, their lips locked in a heated kiss. Y/N wasted no time in pushing Madison against the wall, his hands roaming over her body with a hunger that consumed him.

Madison moaned into his mouth, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. Y/N's lips left hers, trailing kisses along her jawline and down her neck, igniting a fire within her that she couldn't contain.

They stumbled into the bedroom, their movements fueled by raw desire and longing. Y/N gently laid Madison down on the bed, his eyes dark with desire as he hovered over her, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss.

Their clothes were discarded in a frenzy of urgency, forgotten in their need to be closer, to feel every inch of each other's skin. Y/N's hands explored every curve of Madison's body, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her veins.

Madison arched into his touch, her nails digging into his back as he kissed his way down her body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch, every kiss, was like an electric shock, sending waves of pleasure crashing over her again and again.

As Y/N entered her, they both gasped at the overwhelming sensation of being joined together, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. It was as if they were two halves of a whole, finally coming together to create something beautiful and pure.

Their lovemaking was slow and sensual, a symphony of sighs and whispers, of skin against skin and hearts beating as one. They lost themselves in each other, in the heat of their passion and the depth of their connection.

Their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace, Y/N and Madison moved together in a dance of desire, their connection deepening with each moment. As they lost themselves in the intensity of their lovemaking, their whispers of love and longing filled the air.

"I've wanted this for so long," Y/N breathed against Madison's skin, his voice thick with desire.

Madison's fingers trailed along his back, sending shivers down his spine. "Me too," she confessed, her voice a soft, breathless sigh. "I've dreamed about this moment with you."

Their words mingled with the soft sounds of their kisses, each touch igniting a spark of passion that consumed them both. With every caress, every whispered declaration of love, they felt their connection grow stronger, their desire reaching new heights.

"I love you, Madison," Y/N murmured, his lips brushing against hers in a tender kiss.

Madison's response was a low moan of pleasure, her hands pulling him closer, urging him to deepen their embrace. "I love you too, Y/N," she gasped, her voice filled with longing. "Only you."

"I need you," Y/N whispered, his voice raw with emotion as he pressed his forehead against Madison's, their breaths mingling in the heat of the moment.

"You have me," Madison replied, her voice filled with love and devotion. "Completely."

Their bodies moved in a frenzy of passion, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through them. Y/N's lips found Madison's in a hungry kiss, their tongues dancing in a desperate tangle as they clung to each other, lost in the heat of the moment.

"Fuck, Madison," Y/N moaned against her lips, his voice thick with desire.

"Harder, baby," Madison gasped in response, her nails digging into his skin as she arched into his touch.

Their whispers of love and longing were drowned out by the sound of their moans, the room filled with the symphony of their desire. With each breath, each caress, they felt the tension building, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.

"I can't take it anymore," Y/N groaned, his voice strained with need as he buried his face in the crook of Madison's neck.

Madison's response was a low, guttural moan, her body trembling with anticipation. "Me neither," she gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders as she rode the wave of pleasure that threatened to consume them both.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust pushing them closer to the edge. With each moan, each whispered declaration of love, they felt their passion reaching new heights, their connection deepening with every heartbeat.

"I'm about to cum," Y/N groaned, his voice thick with urgency as he struggled to hold on to the last shreds of control.

Madison's breath hitched at his words, her own release imminent. "Yes," she gasped, her voice a breathless plea. "Please, Y/N."

And with one final thrust, they tumbled over the edge together, their cries of ecstasy mingling in the air as they surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

As they lay tangled in each other's arms, their bodies still humming with the aftershocks of their lovemaking, Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to Madison's forehead, his heart overflowing with love for the woman in his arms.

"I love you, Madison," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Y/N," she replied, her eyes shining with tears of joy. "Forever and always."

Their breaths slowed, synchronized in the intimate rhythm of lovers who had finally found solace in each other's arms. Y/N brushed his fingers through Madison's hair, the strands silky soft against his skin. Each touch, each caress, felt like a symphony of their souls intertwining.

As they lay there, Madison traced patterns on Y/N's chest, her touch feather-light against his skin. She traced the outline of his tattoo, her fingers lingering over each curve and line as if committing it to memory. Y/N closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of her touch, the warmth of her body pressed against his.

The night wore on, their whispers grew softer, their bodies growing heavy with the weight of sleep. They held each other close, unwilling to let go of the moment, unwilling to let go of each other.

[sweetcherryharry]

lunch

based on the song 'lunch' by billie eilish.

pairing: harry styles x reader

from the first moment i listened to the song i NEEDED to write something based on it. tbh it wasn't edited, so sorry if there are mistakes. hope u enjoy!

(masterlist)

I could eat that girl for lunch Yeah, she dances on my tongue Tastes like she might be the one And I could never get enough

The bustling energy of the party swirled around Harry, a kaleidoscope of laughter, music, and conversations. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on Y/N across the room. She stood amidst a circle of friends, her vibrant laughter ringing out like a melody that cut through the noise.

His eyes traced the elegant curve of her neck, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a silken waterfall. She gestured animatedly as she spoke, her hands painting vivid pictures in the air.  The way her eyes sparkled with amusement, the genuine joy radiating from her every inch of skin, made his heart quicken.

"I could eat that girl for lunch," he murmured to himself, the phrase echoing a sentiment far deeper than the words implied. It wasn't a physical hunger, but a craving for the essence of her – the wit, the warmth, the intoxicating energy that drew him like a moth to a flame.

The thought of Y/N danced on his tongue, a symphony of flavors that he yearned to savor. She was sunshine and spice, a tantalizing mix of sweetness and intellect that left him wanting more. Each encounter with her, each shared laugh and stolen glance, was a morsel that only fueled his appetite.

As he watched her toss her head back in laughter, a sudden realization struck him. Tastes like she might be the one. The thought resonated within him, a profound truth that he couldn't ignore. It wasn't a fleeting infatuation or a surface-level attraction. It was a soul-deep connection, a recognition that he had stumbled upon something rare and precious.

Their friendship had blossomed over time, a tapestry woven with shared jokes, heartfelt conversations, and unspoken understanding. Yet, from the very first moment their eyes met, Harry knew there was something extraordinary about Y/N. She possessed a magnetism that pulled him in, a captivating aura that left him utterly spellbound.

A slow smile spread across his face, a warmth blooming in his chest. And I could never get enough. The words whispered through his mind, a mantra that encapsulated his desire to delve deeper, to explore every facet of Y/N's being. The thought of spending more time with her, of unraveling the layers of her heart and mind, filled him with an exhilarating sense of anticipation.

I could buy her so much stuff It's a craving, not a crush, huh "Call me when you're there" Said, "I bought you somethin' rare And I left it under 'Claire'"

Harry found himself constantly thinking of ways to make her smile, to surprise her with little gifts and tokens of affection. It wasn't just a fleeting infatuation; his feelings for Y/N had blossomed into something deeper, more profound.

One afternoon, while browsing a vintage market, he stumbled upon a delicate silver locket engraved with intricate floral patterns. It was a piece of exquisite craftsmanship, a rare find that whispered of timeless elegance. He knew instantly that it was meant for Y/N. The locket seemed to embody her essence - delicate yet strong, beautiful yet unassuming.

With a surge of excitement, he purchased the locket and carefully placed it in a velvet-lined box. He imagined Y/N's eyes lighting up as she opened it, the surprise and joy radiating from her face. The thought of her reaction filled him with a warmth that spread through his chest.

He couldn't wait to give it to her, but he wanted the moment to be special, away from prying eyes and flashing cameras. So, he decided to leave it at her favorite coffee shop, tucked under the name 'Claire'—a playful code they had developed in the early days of their friendship to protect Y/N's privacy from the ever-present media. It was a secret only they shared, a testament to their unique bond.

Dialing her number, he waited for her to answer, his heart pounding with anticipation.

"Hey, Harry!" Y/N's cheerful voice filled his ear, instantly calming his nerves. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of mystery, hoping to pique her curiosity. "And, oh… I might have left you a little something special at our usual spot."

"Really?" Y/N's voice rose with excitement. "What is it?"

"You'll have to find out for yourself," Harry said with a chuckle, enjoying the anticipation in her voice. "Let me know when you get there."

He could practically hear the smile in her voice as she replied, "I'm already on my way!"

As Harry hung up, he couldn't help but grin. The thought of surprising Y/N, of giving her something that reflected his deep affection for her, filled him with a warm glow. This was more than just a crush; it was a craving, one that he knew would never go away.

So now, she's comin' up the stairs So I'm pullin' up a chair And I'm puttin' up my hair

A light knock on his apartment door pulled Harry out of his reverie. A wave of anticipation washed over him as he crossed the room, his heart beating a little faster. He took a deep breath, composing himself before opening the door.

There stood Y/N, her face flushed with excitement, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You wouldn't believe what I just found at the coffee shop," she exclaimed, holding up the velvet box.

"Oh really?" Harry feigned surprise, a playful smirk on his lips. He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. "Come in, tell me all about it."

As Y/N walked into the apartment, Harry's eyes followed her every move, admiring the way she effortlessly filled the space with her energy. He felt a surge of warmth and affection, a longing to make this moment perfect for her.

"So," he said, pulling out a chair for her at the small dining table, "what did you find?"

Y/N eagerly opened the box, revealing the delicate silver locket. Her eyes widened with delight as she traced the intricate patterns with her fingertip. "Harry, it's beautiful," she breathed, her voice filled with awe.

"I'm glad you like it," Harry replied, his heart swelling with happiness at her reaction. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile like that, to be the reason behind her joy.

"I love it," Y/N corrected him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's the most thoughtful gift I've ever received."

As she reached for the locket to fasten it around her neck, Harry noticed a few strands of her hair falling loose from her ponytail. Without thinking, he gently tucked them behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin for a moment longer than necessary.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. A moment of shared understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that hung in the air.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he realized that this was more than just friendship, more than a mere crush. It was something deeper, something undeniable. He wanted to be the one to make her smile, to cherish her, to be her safe haven in a chaotic world. And as he gazed into her eyes, he knew that he would do everything in his power to make that happen.

Baby, I think you were made for me Somebody write down the recipe Been tryin' hard not to overeat You're just so sweet

Weeks had passed since the night of the locket, and the once unspoken feelings between Harry and Y/N had evolved into a palpable tension that hung in the air whenever they were together. Their friendship remained strong, but an undercurrent of longing and desire pulsed beneath the surface.

The pair –along with their group of friends– were illuminated by the dim lights of the bar, a lively mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the rhythmic pulse of music washing over them. Harry leaned against the bar, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, his gaze fixed on Y/N right next to him.  She was close, their knees occasionally brushing against each other, sending sparks of electricity through him.

"Baby, I think you were made for me," Harry finally blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. The alcohol had emboldened him, giving him the courage to voice the sentiment that had been echoing in his mind for months.

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. The playful banter on her lips faded as she met his gaze, a flicker of recognition dancing in her eyes.

"Very funny," she retorted, her voice barely a whisper above the din of the bar, though her tone wasn't as lighthearted as her words suggested.

Harry leaned in closer, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "Who said anything funny? I didn't." His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine.

A moment of silence hung between them, the air thick with unspoken desires. The music seemed to fade into the background as their world narrowed to just the two of them, their bodies mere inches apart.

"Why would you say that?" Y/N finally asked, her voice barely a whisper. "That I'm made for you —I mean?"

Harry's hand found hers on the bar, his fingers intertwining with hers. He took a deep breath, the warmth of the whiskey emboldening him further. "Because it's true," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think we both know it."

He paused, his thumb gently caressing her hand. "We fit together, Y/N," he continued, his eyes searching hers for a sign of reciprocation. "In a way that I've never experienced with anyone else."

Y/N's heart hammered in her chest. She had felt it too, the undeniable connection that sparked between them every time they were together. The way their laughter intertwined, the way their thoughts seemed to align effortlessly, the way their silences were never uncomfortable but filled with an understanding that transcended words.

"I...I don't know what to say," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But I do understand what you mean– I also feel like you're meant for me."

A wave of relief washed over Harry, his heart swelling with happiness. He squeezed her hand, a silent reassurance that he understood her unspoken feelings. "You don't have to say anything," he whispered back, his eyes filled with love and adoration.

At that moment, words were unnecessary. Their shared gaze spoke volumes, a silent symphony of affection and desire. Harry leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips met hers in a tentative, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing, a culmination of months of unspoken desires and a shared understanding that had deepened with each stolen glance and whispered conversation.

The kiss was electric, sending shivers down their spines. It was a moment of pure bliss, a confirmation of the undeniable connection that had drawn them together from the very beginning. As they pulled apart, their eyes met again, filled with a newfound understanding and a shared secret that only they knew.

"Finally!" one of their friends cheered from across the table, breaking the spell that had momentarily enveloped them.

Harry and Y/N turned towards the sound, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment and a shared secret. A wave of laughter erupted from their drunk group of friends, a joyful celebration of the love that had finally blossomed between them.

I'll run a shower for you like you want Clothеs on the counter for you, try 'em on If I'm allowеd, I'll help you take 'em off Huh

As the night went on, the air between them grew thick with unspoken desire. Every stolen glance, every accidental touch, ignited a spark that threatened to consume them both.

"Stay with me tonight?" Harry whispered, his voice husky with desire as he leaned in closer.

Y/N's eyes met his, a silent question in their depths. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded, her heart pounding with anticipation.  While she had been to Harry's apartment many times before, it had always been as friends, platonic. This time felt different.

With a final lingering kiss, they reluctantly rose from their seats, their hands intertwined as they made their way towards the exit. The world outside seemed hazy and distant, their focus solely on the promise of intimacy that awaited them in the quiet sanctuary of Harry's apartment.

As they stepped inside, Harry kicked the door closed behind them. He turned to Y/N, and without a word, they melted into each other's embrace. His hands found her waist, pulling her close as his lips met hers in a passionate kiss. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, her body responding to his touch with a fervor that surprised even her.

They moved as one, their kisses growing deeper and more intense as the pent-up desire between them finally found an outlet. The world narrowed down to the taste of him, the feel of his hands on her skin, the sound of their breaths mingling in the quiet apartment.

But as Harry's hands began to roam lower, Y/N gently pulled away, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of desire and hesitation. "Harry," she whispered, her voice breathless, "maybe we should slow down."

He looked into her eyes, understanding dawning on his own. He nodded, a tender smile gracing his lips. "Of course," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing the outline of her lips. "Whatever you want."

The tension in the room shifted, morphing from fiery passion to a gentle intimacy. They stood there for a moment, their foreheads resting against each other, breathing in unison. The unspoken understanding between them deepened, a silent promise of a night filled with love and tenderness, a night where they could explore each other's souls as well as their bodies.

"I'll run a shower for you like you want," he offered, his voice barely a whisper, a gesture of care and intimacy.

Y/N nodded, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of shyness and excitement. The anticipation hung in the air, thick and sweet.

Harry led her to his bathroom, turning on the shower and adjusting the water temperature to her liking. He laid out a fluffy towel and a set of his clean clothes on the counter, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Clothes on the counter for you, try 'em on," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And if I'm allowed, I'll help you take 'em off."

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. "We'll see," she teased, her eyes locking with his, the air between them crackling with electricity. The night was young, and the possibilities were endless.

She's takin' pictures in the mirror Oh my God, her skin's so clear Tell her, "Bring that over here" You need a seat? I'll volunteer Now she's smilin' ear to ear She's the headlights, I'm the deer

A warm glow from the bathroom light spilled into the hallway, illuminating Y/N as she emerged, wrapped in a towel. Her damp hair curled around her shoulders, her skin luminous in the soft light.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, marveling at her natural beauty. He longed to reach out and touch her, to trace the delicate curve of her skin with his fingertips. 

But more than that, Oh, I just wanna get her off, he thought, the primal urge surging through him like a tidal wave.

Y/N caught his gaze in the mirror, a sultry smile playing on her lips. She let the towel drop, revealing her silhouette against the soft glow. "What do you think?" she purred, her voice husky with invitation.

Harry's eyes darkened with desire. "Come over here," he commanded, his voice low . He patted the edge of the bed, a silent invitation for her to join him.

Y/N walked towards him, her movements slow and deliberate, each step a tantalizing promise. She perched on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving his.

"Need a seat?" Harry offered, his voice thick with anticipation. "I'll volunteer."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. Y/N's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I think I'd rather have you."

Harry's smile widened, a predator's gleam in his eyes. "And you shall," he murmured, his hand reaching out to caress the side of her face.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, all pretense vanished. The air crackled with electricity, their connection undeniable. Y/N was the headlights, blinding him with her beauty and allure. And Harry was the deer, caught in her irresistible pull, ready to surrender to the passion that consumed them both.

I've said it all before, but I'll say it again I'm interested in more than just bein' your friend I don't wanna break it, just want it to bend Do you know how to bend?

"I've said it all before in other words, but I'll say it again," Harry began, his voice low and husky, "I'm interested in more than just being your friend."

His eyes searched hers, a hint of vulnerability flickering beneath the desire. "I don't want to break what we have," he continued, his hand cupping her cheek. "I just want it to bend, to evolve into something more."

He paused, his gaze unwavering. "Do you know how to bend?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper.

Y/N's heart fluttered in her chest. She knew exactly what he meant. The question wasn't just about physical intimacy; it was about their relationship, their connection, their willingness to take a leap of faith together.

A soft smile bloomed on Y/N's lips, her eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored his own. "I think I do," she whispered back, her voice barely audible.

With a shared look of understanding, their lips met once again, their kiss deeper and more passionate this time. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken truths and a mutual desire to explore the uncharted territory of their relationship.

Harry's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as their bodies melted together. Their kiss was a symphony of longing and desire, a dance of lips and tongues that ignited a fire within them both.

Time seemed to slow down as they explored each other's mouths, savoring the taste of forbidden fruit. Harry's hands roamed over Y/N's back, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened. She felt a sense of liberation, a freedom to express the emotions she had held back for so long.

He knew it was just a hunch, but as he held her in his arms and had her taste dancing on his tongue, he knew just one thing; she is the one.

[thoughtfulfiction]

Social Media QB

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

The reputation of the Chargers social media team was unmatched. They are known for being funny and up to date on all memes and pop culture references while also showcasing players’ personalities. That alone made you apply and this past year on the job had really been a once in a lifetime experience. Working with Megan and the crew was a daily adventure and you were becoming more and more comfortable calling the guys your friends. It even got to a point where you didn’t even call them by their names anymore.

Quentin was usually just “Q.” JK was always “J’Kaylin”, Derwin was “3” and your favorite nickname was definitely calling Justin “Sunshine.” At first it was a Remember the Titans reference but it became a lifestyle. Everything and everyone revolves around the sun and that’s exactly what it felt like when you were at work. All of the players were important and special but you could just feel the energy in the room shift when Justin was there. It was palpable, it almost took your breath away sometimes.

Off camera he was goofy, funny and had this uncanny ability to make the world stand still for a bit, even just for a few fleeting moments where it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. But then reality would hit and you were reminded that you work for the team and he’d never see you in that way, he was just nice to everyone he encountered. But on camera? It was all fun and games. There was a running joke, mostly based on his real feelings, that Justin hated cameras. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention or having people perceive him so he avoided the social media team altogether when phones were pointed in his direction. 

But sometimes, a rarity, you were able to get him on camera, even if it was just for a split second. The two of you reviewed the questions he was going to be asked before their Hot Ones appearance and there was ALWAYS a discussion, more like subtle begging if you all were going to have him participate in any content.

“We need Justin for this new segment we’re doing, so you’re gonna have to talk to him.” Megan sighs, grabbing her Stanley cup that was sitting on the counter. She’d just finished editing a video where she and her assistant put fart spray on the tiny mic and could still smell the rancid scent until she grabbed some Lysol spray to de-funk the place.

You were going through photos taken during practice earlier that morning and deciding which ones to post and without looking up you asked her, “why do I have to do it?”

Lorren and Allie giggle in the corner, shaking their heads. “You cannot be serious right now y/n,” Lorren gives you a pointed look.

“What?”

“We all know you and Justin have a thing for each other. Even if you won’t admit to us…or yourself. It’s pretty obvious.”

You finally raise your head up from your laptop, staring at them while also wracking your brain trying to figure out when your innocent crush had become so painfully obvious. If the girls knew, then Justin had probably somehow caught on and the thought of that made you want to dig a hole right outside on the practice field and never come out. “Is—am I that easy to read?”

“No one blames you,” Megan runs a loving hand on your shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ve been trying so hard to hide your feelings that you haven’t noticed that he’s doing an even worse job of hiding his massive crush on you.”

The look on your face sends the room into a fit of laughter. “We’re being serious. The way he looks at you and acts around you. Anyone can see he’s into you friend.”

You weren’t convinced, “I need an example.”

“Okay fine,” Lorren stands up to prepare a demonstration. “He wasn’t ready to put the mics on when he was mic’d up until you walked over and helped him get the mic in the perfect spot in his pads. And then he wore the friendship bracelet for six weeks because you handed it to him.”

Allie pipes up to put in her two cents. “And let’s not forget when he had you driving him around the golf tournament and kicked Zion to the curb. There’s no way all of those are just a coincidence.”

“Fine. I’ll go ask him if he’ll shoot the video for us but I’m not going to lose my job because of a meaningless crush on the starting quarterback.”

You waited around for the guys to leave treatment after practice and caught up with him on his way out. “Hey Sunshine, quick question for you.”

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he gives you a small tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“I need you to do me a huge favor and be in this tik tok. It’s a short game and it’ll only take like 15 minutes.”

His deadpan face and disappointed dad sigh has you practically begging, saying “please” in your finest sing-song tone.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You knew he’d crack, he always did. “On one condition. You also have to participate.”

You hold your hand out and he engulfs it with his much larger one. “You’ve got yourself a deal Herbert.”

“Okay the rules of the game are simple,” Megan begins from behind her phone screen before hitting record, “we’re going to give you these Canadian snacks and you’ll rate them on a scale from 1 to 10. One being it’s awful I’ll never touch that again and 10 being a solid snack that you’d eat everyday if given the opportunity.”

You and Justin nod, diving in on everything from the ketchup chips to the toffee. The video didn’t take long as promised and the quarterback went about the rest of his day with no further distractions.

In your office a few days later on the team’s off day, you were contemplating your life. Maybe you should take a step back from him so people don't get the wrong idea. Sure, your coworkers were convinced the crush was mutual but what if he was just being nice? He was always so focused on football and making the most out of every opportunity. Why in the world would he waste time flirting with a social media manager? It just made no sense. Instead of continuing to run a million imaginary scenarios in your mind you packed up your stuff and tried heading out to the parking lot. Even after all this time you still struggled to maneuver all the twists and turns of the building and somehow found yourself walking past the quarterback room. You intended to just keep walking but he was in there alone and called out your name when he saw you.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone would be in the building today.” His bright eyes staring down at you made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest. You desperately needed to get it together.

“I came in to finish up a few things but I’m heading out now. What are you doing? I think you’ve watched enough film to last you a couple lifetimes.” That gets a light chuckle out of him and he shakes his head, the two of you knowing that his quest for perfection would never allow him to believe he’s watched enough film. “Thank you for shooting that video the other day. The fans are gonna love it, they’re always begging us to get you on camera.”

“No problem, anything for you.” He clears his throat after whispering the last part, desperately hoping that you didn’t hear it. Even though you definitely did. You should go home for the day and leave him alone in the office so he can get back to work. You should stop staring at his lips that look so soft and just begging to be kissed. He should turn around and get back to the playbook and the computer but here he is, standing still, right in front of you.

You’re just there, waiting for someone to rip the carpet out from under you, to fall on your face, for someone to tell you that this isn’t actually happening. The space between your bodies diminishes significantly, so much so that you can smell the Dr. Squatch Birchwood Breeze radiating off of him. It’s intoxicating and you swallow the fear in your gut and ignore all of the common sense thoughts plaguing your mind, allowing you to feel.

The kiss is tentative at first, he pulls back slightly, whispering if it’s okay to keep going as you feel his breath against your lips. You don’t respond but instead pull him in closer, hearing a satisfied husky moan from him as he allows your tongue access to his. His right palm rests against your cheek until he’s tilting your head up ever so slightly to deepen the embrace and he pulls you in even closer, holding on for dear life while closing and locking the door behind you. It was so much more than he imagined, these feelings that he’d been pushing aside were being confronted and magnified by the second. This innocent crush that you had on him were genuine, real feelings that created a deep ache in your bones, actively being soothed with his hands all over you as the two of you made out like helpless teenagers.

You didn’t think you’d have the strength to tear yourself away from him…until his phone rings. He ignores it the first time but it’s all you can think about by the fifth ring.

“Answer it,” you whisper breathlessly and you can feel him hesitating to pry himself away from you. The heat that was radiating off of his body that you felt being so close to him sends shivers down your spine at the sudden distance. A thousand unspoken apologies are painted on his face as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He keeps the call short and sweet but the look of devastation is clear when he hangs up. “You have to go don’t you?”

He nods. “I’m so sorry. We can—we need to talk about this I know. And I promise we will. I just—I need to take care of this.” He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. Even if he knows you understand. Justin presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers another “I’m sorry” leaving you in the room to think about what just happened.

You walk around the empty parking lot until you reach your car, letting out a deep sigh at the thought of what the conversation with him is going to look like after this. You need to be mentally prepared for good news, bad news and everything in between.

He is the sun after all. And sometimes when you stand too close, you might get burned. And maybe, just maybe, you’d avoid the burn altogether and bask in the warmth as long as you can.

[leejenowrld]

Hello pretty 💕

Your brain is so f r e a k I n g sexy omg 😮

Also I feel like this us so late B U T

I remember reading one anon dropping an thought about I think my first and last ( MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE BTW! I RE-READ IT WEEKLY LIKE ITS MY BIBLE 👀 NO OFFENSE SO ANY RELIGION!!!!) and it was about how Jeno and y/n had a one night thing : so like jeno had a fith some(?) and like once he was like inside of y/n OUR SEXY MAN got obsessed like he pushed of the other girls and only cared about being intimate with y/n ( SORRY I AM SO AKWARD AT WRITING SEXY STUFF 😭) and after that he grew even more obsessed and couldn't get hard by anyone else and just is such a silly lil cutie for her.

DO YOU REMEMBER THAT? CAUSE IT DOES NOT LEAVE MY MIND! I AM OBSESSED EITH THAT.

Do you think you could still my hunger and elaborate/ give some headcanon or thoughts on how this could turn out based on your characters?

Love youuuuu

hiiii thank you so much 🥺 i honestly can’t believe how much love mfal gets… it’s always gonna be so incredibly special to me <333 and im so happy you guys love it as much as i do. i haven’t written mfal content in a while so here you go :) enjoy

───────────────────────────────

jeno’s wild reputation was something everyone knew about. his sexual past wasn’t just a whisper—it was a loud, unapologetic legacy. he’d been the guy who didn’t think twice about hooking up with random girls at parties, the one who’d dive headfirst into orgies, threesomes, or anything that fed his insatiable appetite for thrill and pleasure. his body count was high enough to be a campus joke, but jeno didn’t care. he thrived in the chaos of it all—the quick fucks, the anonymous hands on his skin, the breathless moments that meant nothing the second they were over. he was confident, cocky even, and the attention only fueled his endless hunger.

but then there was you.

you weren’t just another face in the crowd, another fleeting body to conquer. you were different, even before he could fully understand why. it wasn’t about sex at first—not at all. it was the way you challenged him, how your presence lingered in his mind long after he’d walked away. as the two of you started getting to know each other, forming a tentative friendship, something in jeno began to shift. the nights he used to spend tangled in someone else’s sheets started feeling empty, meaningless. for the first time in his life, he found himself hesitating, turning girls down without even realizing it. he didn’t want them anymore—not when his thoughts were so completely consumed by you.

and then there was the first time he had you.

jeno had thought he knew everything there was to know about sex—every position, every way to make someone come undone. but with you, it was entirely different. it wasn’t just about the mechanics or the thrill. it was about the way your body molded to his, the way your soft gasps turned into desperate moans, the way your fingers dug into his back as if you couldn’t bear to let him go. sliding into you for the first time was like nothing he’d ever experienced. you were so tight, so warm, and the way you clenched around him had his head spinning. it wasn’t just sex; it was consuming, overwhelming, addictive.

he couldn’t get enough—the slow roll of his hips, the way your nails raked down his skin, the broken cries of his name spilling from your lips. the way your body responded to his every touch, the way you surrendered completely but also met him halfway, made him feel like he was drowning in you. jeno lost himself in the rhythm, the heat, the sheer intimacy of it all. he couldn’t stop whispering how perfect you felt, how you were made for him, how he couldn’t believe he’d ever settled for anything less.

and it wasn’t just that first time. every time with you was like that—intense, raw, and utterly consuming. no matter how many times he had you, it was never enough. he’d memorize the way your body reacted to him, the way you’d moan his name like a prayer, the way your legs would tremble around him when he pushed you over the edge. it wasn’t just sex—it was connection, obsession, and love all tangled together in a way that left him breathless every single time.

jeno didn’t just stop sleeping around because of you. he stopped because no one else even came close. the idea of touching anyone else, of letting anyone else touch him, made him feel physically ill. you were it for him—the only one who mattered, the only one who could make him feel alive in a way nothing else ever had. he was addicted to you, to the way you made him feel, to the way you let him be himself without judgment.

and now, jeno wasn’t just the guy with the wild past. he was yours—entirely, completely, and without hesitation. he’d trade every meaningless hookup, every fleeting thrill, for just one more night with you, for one more chance to lose himself in everything you were. you weren’t just his lover; you were his anchor, his obsession, his everything.

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Old men aren’t always wise, Primo is well aware of that ; his own father being the most striking exemple of elder stupidity he can think of. Yet he, Primo Emeritus, humbly thinks he himself has been made wise by life. Raising three younger brothers since their idiot of a father wouldn’t...well, it definitely taught him things, and, most importantly, allowed him to form a strong bond with them.

He knows his brothers like the back of his hand ; severe, cold and bitter Secondo, who shies away from the very love he desperately craves ; flamboyant, charismatic Terzo, hidding a bottomless pit of self-hatred under pretty smiles, witty jokes and flirty comments ; sweet, kind-hearted Copia, who feels like an impostor as he battles with Sister Imperator’s clumsy, sometimes harsh and unfit motherly affection. They aren’t perfect, and neither is Primo or their relationship, but they tried, tried so hard, built trust, love and loyalty between all of them, and in the end, it’s all that matter.

Point is. Primo is wise, and he knows his brothers. Knows Terzo – no, not Terzo. Alessandro. So as he watches the scene unfolding in front of him, he knows instantly. It’s in the way his brother’s eyes linger on the rythm guitarist, not long enough for it to be obvious, but enough for Primo to notice. In the way Terzo is almost always subcounciously turning toward the quintessence ghoul as he talks and offers new ideas. In the way his face lights up when Omega praises said ideas, and add his owns. In the way the singer takes every occasions to brush against his ghoul, to adjust the position of his crooked grucifx, to pat his strong arms. How Terzo’s ears grow pink when they make eye contact for just a fraction too long.

Omega is, admitedly, harder to read, even though Primo worked with the ghoul for a time. He always liked him, sturdy, serious, as amazing a pack leader as a musician. He seems more relaxed with Terzo than he was with Primo, a tad more playful, which the older man doesn’t resent. And despite his difficulties to intrepret the quintessence ghoul’s attitude, there are signs that don’t lie. A way of angling himself so that Terzo is never out of his sight, leaning ever so slightly into Terzo’s fleeting touch, praising him with a special kind of warmth in his voice, the ocasional soft, fond chuckle at one of the singer’s joke, absent-mindedly brushing his tail against Terzo’s leg.

If all that wasn’t enough, the other ghouls’ frequent shared knowing glances would be great giveaways as well. So Primo smiles and keeps listening, keeps watching.

Once they reach the end of the practice session, Terzo saunters toward the armchair his older brother folded himself in, ever the showman, grinning.

« So, what do you think, old man ? »

Primo chuckles softly.

« I see you’ve been working hard. I must say, I’m impressed. You’ve grown, and your music with you. »

For just a moment, Primo gets a small, private smile ; Alessandro’s smile, as his little brother squeezes his bony hand in his gloved one.

« Thank you, » he whispers. Then his smile widens, turns into that cocky grin everyone knows, his voice rising again. « Had any favorite ? Ah, your growling vocals-loving hide must have liked Mummy Dust, right ? But you’re a sentimental one too. Maybe He is ? »

Primo shakes his head with a huff.

« Both are very nice, as is the rest of the album, but I have to confess, Deus In Absentia struck me the most. »

At that, Terzo’s face makes something complicated, and he looks over his shoulder, meeting Omega’s eyes from where the ghoul is packing his guitar. He stares back, tipping his head in acknowledgement. Terzo looks back at Primo with an expression just a tiniest bit more eager than he’d usually let it be.

« Really ? Omega helped me with the lyrics. I admit, it might be one of my favorites as well. »

As always, Terzo is quick to offer his arm to his older brother when Primo gets up, much less gracefully than in his youth.

« Well, it is truly a touching song, in my opinion. Both emotional and majestic. »

He leads the both of them to his rose garden in comfortable silence, and only speaks up once he’s sure they are truly alone.

« So, Omega, eh ? Somehow, I’m not even surprised. »

Terzo splutters, almost tripping over his own feet.

« Wh- what ? I don’t- »

A warm smile pulls at Primo’s lips, lightening his weathered face.

« Alessandro Terzo Emeritus, I have known you for your entire life. I know how being in love looks on you. »

For a few seconds, his little brother stares at him, before letting out a long sigh and running a hand through his hair, ears going pink again.

« He is- he’s special, Prim- Dante. He- I never felt that way before. Not that much. »

Primo huffs, gives Terzo’s arm a light squeeze.

« I am glad. I always thought he was a truly admirable ghoul. I trust he takes good care of you ? »

Terzo hums, hanging his head down, raven black locks brushing his features.

« It might sound stupid, but he makes me feel...special. Me, not Papa Emeritus the third. Like he can see right through every layers of bullshit I wrap myself in. »

Primo stops walking, turning around to face his little brother. His happy-looking, flustered little brother. Softly, gently, he presses his bony hand to Terzo’s chest, right above the heart.

« You deserve it. You deserve someone who sees you. I am so, so very happy for you. »

Terzo lights up.

« I’m thinking...I’d like him to know my name. My real name, I mean. I know he would use it wisely ; hell, he was long hesitant about calling me Terzo in public. »

Though it isn’t a question, he looks up through his lashes at Primo, in search of something. The older man pats his brother head with a raspy chuckle. Gives him the reassurance he needs ; the one their father could never give them ; the one Primo endavored to offer his brothers whenever he could.

« I’m sure he’ll be honored. A lovely ghoul indeed. » Primo takes a step back, considers, then decides that a bit of teasing cannot hurt. «  And he’s big too, isn’t he ? »

Terzo chokes on his inhale, instinctively covering his ears, either to hide the flush that can only be seen there because of the paint, or to fruitlessly try and block words he already heard.

« I- the hell ? »

With a snort, Primo smiles mischieviously.

« What ? He is, you barely reach what, his chest perhaps ? »

He waits for realization to dawn on Terzo before adding :

« But, you know. Huge down there too, I’m sure. »

His little brother splutters, before shaking his head incredulously.

« If you were Secondo, I would have kicked you, old man. »

Primo chuckles.

« I am sure that if Secondo had made such a comment, you two would be fighting like you used to as kids, rolling on the ground and all that. »

Terzo smirks.

« Well, I wouldn’t be able to pull his hair anymore. »

With a tut, Primo swats his younger brother on the back of his head.

« Low blow. But, in all seriousness. I am so very glad you are happy. »

« ...Thanks, Dante. »

[joeliz99]

Unspoken Connection- George Weasley

Description: After leaving Hogwarts, (Y/N) and George Weasley develop a unique and deep friendship that soon turns into something more. One night, their feelings for each other push the boundaries of their relationship. Will they embrace the new dimension of their bond, or risk losing what they have?

Warning: Slow burn, friends-to-lovers, after war fic, grief, mentions of death, smut implied, major fluff.

Word count: 2588

______________________________________________

The power of appearance demanded immense willpower and concentration. It was a skill (Y/N) thought she would have mastered by now, after years of practice. Yet, standing in the middle of the desolate Diagon Alley, she realized there was still much work to be done when it came to controlling her thoughts.

Carrying her heels in hand, the young woman sighed with annoyance as she walked towards her shop. If she wasn’t able to get home due to distractions, she might as well spend the night where she worked daily, brooding and selling potions to all sorts of consumers. Softly glowing chandeliers illuminated the street where she dragged her feet, feeling the tiredness spreading throughout her body. Her vigilant eyes scanned every corner, ensuring her solitude and safety. She almost managed to ignore the big, flashy Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes stall just a few shops away from her own. However, a second glance shattered her attempt when she noticed the lingering light within the joke shop.

In any other moment, she would have continued walking and minding her business, just as she had planned. However, contrary to her intentions, (Y/N) found herself halting in her tracks and veering toward the entrance of the building. She attributed this deviation to perhaps the two or three drinks she had that night or an unexpected surge of curiosity. Nonetheless, she saw nothing wrong with ensuring everything was alright. It took merely a fleeting moment before she decided to continue on her way. But before she could take a step, she glimpsed a tall redhead navigating the aisles with a few items in hand. Her heart skipped a beat, an unwarranted nervousness suddenly washing over her.

She certainly didn’t want to appear nosy, though truthfully, she was. Hastily, she turned and began walking toward her intended destination once more. However, the same man spotted her through the window, detecting her presence immediately. George set down his things on the shelf and hurried to the door.

“(Y/N)?” Her feet froze, and she muttered under her breath as she turned toward him.

“Hey…”

“Hi…” He regarded her with a puzzled expression, noticing her attire and the shoes she carried in her hand. “Is everything okay? What are you doing out here so late?”

“Mhm…” (Y/N) smiled casually, sweeping a few strands of hair from her face with her free hand. “I’m headed to the shop. Just wanted to catch up on some work. You?”

“Stocking up the inventory.” His gaze lingered on her for a few more moments, now at ease knowing she was fine. “Special occasion today?”

“Yeah. Draco’s wedding.”

“That’s nice. You must have been the reason for some distraction.” George offered a cheeky smile, eliciting a similar response from her. “You look radiant today.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me walk you to the shop then. It’s not safe for you to be walking alone at this time of night.” He barely got the chance to take more than two steps before she interrupted him.

“Oh no, don’t worry. I’m okay. In fact, do you want an extra pair of hands? I can help if you want.” He raised an eyebrow, a puzzled but mocking look on his face.

“Didn’t you just say you were going to get on track with some work?” The girl’s eyes widened, almost feeling faint from self-shame.

“Right, yeah. I totally forgot about that. I should get going then.” George chuckled, rolling his eyes as he watched her turn away.

“Hey, I never said no! Come in. I wouldn’t mind having your company.” (Y/N) attempted to maintain her composure, ignoring him in an attempt to salvage whatever dignity she still had. Her resistance only prompted George to follow her, taking her hand and coaxing her into the shop. Before she could protest, he placed a couple of items in her hands, instructing her where to put them.

Despite having felt exhausted mere minutes ago, the girl began bustling around the shop, climbing and descending stairs, shifting boxes, and rearranging shelves, with George ensuring her dress didn’t catch on any edges. Since his brother’s passing, he preferred to spend his time alone. He found solace in working in silence, functioning better when he had no distractions. However, with (Y/N), it was different. He enjoyed, could almost say loved, having her around during everyday moments. They seemed to effortlessly understand each other’s needs and worked together seamlessly. Some might call it a natural fit, and to an extent, it was, but it was also the result of the considerable time they’d spent together, getting to know each other over the past few years.

After a while, (Y/N) settled on the first step of the stairs, sighing as the ache in her feet became increasingly noticeable. George glanced at her, abandoning his task to approach her.

“I think we’ve done enough for today.” He observed how her hands attempted to alleviate the discomfort. “Why don’t you come upstairs? I can grab some ice packs for that. I might have some medicinal balm too.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll fade soon. Besides, I should be leaving. You must be tired too.”

“Nonsense.” George extended his hand, which she accepted not long after, prompting her up. He led the way to the fourth floor, where the Weasley Twins had settled since opening their shop. Upon opening the door, he gestured for (Y/N) to take a seat while he retrieved the items he had offered. Once he returned, she thanked him and immediately used them for relief.

“Would you like something to drink? I can also rustle up some snacks. There must be something edible in that fridge.” Without awaiting her response, he headed to the kitchen, eliciting laughter from (Y/N) as she watched him from the sofa.

“Why are you even thinking about food? It’s like 2 in the morning.”

“What do you mean? This is the perfect time for a snack!” He peeked out of the fridge. “How about fried eggs and toast?”

“Sure.” (Y/N) shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

George took out the necessary ingredients, adding seasonings and miscellaneous items he found while cooking the eggs. After a few minutes, she decided to help, ensuring he didn’t burn the toast while he was engrossed in the other half of the meal. As everything neared completion, she grabbed the first two plates she found, while George rummaged through his cabinets for a bottle of wine.

“I’ll be back in a second.” (Y/N) nodded, engrossed in making the meal more presentable and finding two glasses for the wine. George took longer than expected, but when he returned, both burst into laughter as she noticed he was wearing a suit that seemed about four sizes too small for him.

“I figured since you look so elegant today, I had to play the part too. How do I look?” He did a careful turn, trying not to tear his pants or sleeves. “I wore this for the Formal Dance at Hogwarts. I think I still rock it.”

“You do.” She beamed, getting up and approaching him after fetching her wand. “It just needs some small adjustments.” With a flick of her wand, George’s suit transformed before their eyes, fitting him comfortably and perfectly. “That will do.” He smiled, glancing down at her. “You look very handsome. Good thing I don’t have to share this sight with anybody else.” His face reddened upon hearing that, laughing shyly as he offered his arm for her to take, leading the way to the kitchen where he offered her a glass of wine.

“Cheers.”

“What are we toasting to?” She inquired, mirroring his gesture.

“Whatever comes to mind. Doesn’t have to be anything big.” (Y/N) chuckled and clinked her glass with his as they began their meal, engaging in a conversation that constantly shifted from one topic to another.

“So, how was Malfoy’s wedding? Did you have fun?”

“I did. It’s actually the first time I’ve been to one.”

“Really?” He glanced at her, surprised, while (Y/N) took a sip of her wine.

“Yeah… You know, I’ve always heard about the beauty of being a part of something like that. But I never truly understood until now. It almost makes you want to experience it too.” He smiled lightly.

“Do you see yourself marrying someday?”

“I don’t know… Honestly, I’ve never envisioned it. But that could be a result of being raised to be comfortable in solitude. It’s not that I lacked love or anything. But, you know, we’ve talked about this before. I suppose that could change if it feels right with the right person at the right time. What about you?” George paused, contemplating his response, uncertain of the best way to answer.

“At some point, I did consider it. I’ve witnessed that type of compromise in my family my whole life. But I guess circumstances have changed. I’m just not sure if that will be part of my plans in the future.”

“Why not?” (Y/N) queried, curious about his perspective.

“Ever since Fred passed away, it doesn’t feel right. I don’t see the joy in experiencing things that my brother will never have the opportunity to experience too.”

“I never really got the chance to know Fred personally… But I feel that, above all else, he would have wanted you to find happiness in every aspect of your life. He’ll always be part of your life just by you existing and loving him as much as you do.” George glanced at her, a pause hanging in the air, before clearing the table.

" Ever since Fred passed away, it just doesn’t feel right. I don’t see the joy in experiencing things that my brother will never have the chance to experience."

" I never really got the chance to know Fred personally... But I feel that, above all else, he would have wanted you to find happiness in every aspect of your life. He’ll always be part of your life through you existing and loving him as much as you do." George glanced at her, a pause hanging in the air, before clearing the table.

" Maybe you’re right, but we’ll never know that now." (Y/N) chose to stay silent, understanding it was time to shift away from the topic. Instead, she got up to help clear the mess from cooking, despite his protests.

" You should stay here tonight." George’s statement confused (Y/N), prompting him to elaborate.

" You haven’t slept at all, we’ve had a couple of drinks, and I don’t think you’ll be able to get home safely."

" I’ll be fine. It’s one thing to visit for a while; it’s another to intrude on your personal space."

" It’s not intruding if I’m the one asking you to stay," he asserted firmly. " It’s settled. I’ll take the sofa tonight. I imagine you’ll want to change clothes. Let me find a towel and some clothes for you."

" George, wa—" Her words trailed off as he vanished and reappeared with the items.

" Here. The pants might be a bit big, but they should do the job."

" Thank you." (Y/N) accepted everything gratefully. " But you really don’t have to sleep on the sofa. I’ll be fine wherever."

" You can’t expect me to do otherwise, (Y/N). Go on, don’t worry." He nudged her playfully toward the bathroom, prompting her to follow his suggestion.

Once alone in the small space, she removed her accessories and let her hair down, reaching for her dress brooch to slide it down. However, during the process, the zipper got stuck, and despite several attempts to fix it, she made little progress. Frustrated, she tried lifting the dress up to remove it from the top, but that didn't work either. Growing more exasperated, she paused for a moment before doing something out of character.

“Hey, George,” her voice was raised slightly to get his attention. “Can you come here for a second?”

It didn’t take long for him to appear, knocking on the door with a look of confusion. When (Y/N) opened the door, he turned his eyes to the side to respect her privacy.

“Everything okay?”

“No, not really. My dress is stuck. Could you help me, please?”

“Uh, sure.” After fully opening the door, he took in the sight of her messy hair and the look of frustration on her face, as she held the dress in front of her. “Turn around.”

The girl did as told, sensing his hand brushing her hair away. George's large hands worked with the zipper for a moment before managing to fix it and unzip the rest of the dress, leaving her back completely naked. He deep swallowed, making an effort to focus and maintain some distance between them. George wasn’t sure whether it was the wine’s influence or just utter desire in his body, but he allowed himself to trail her back with his index finger, going from the hollow of her lowest part to her shoulders and finishing on her neck, (Y/N)'s skin crawling in an instant.

-There you go…- 

His voice came out as a low murmur, a product of their proximity and the charged atmosphere. (Y/N) turned around, murmuring a soft thank you. George nodded, his gaze lingering on the familiar features of her face. She noticed his scrutiny and, moving a little closer, found herself drawn to his lips. Her feet rose, giving George the sign to lower himself to level her height, sneaking his arm behind her back and lifting her easily, removing any effort from her part. With her hands still holding her dress, (Y/N) took the lead, brushing her lips against his in a gentle touch. She lingered for a moment before pressing her lips to his again, this kiss lasting just a few seconds. As if it wasn’t enough for either of them, George dared to kiss her with more intensity, bringing one of his hands to her neck and slowly tangling his fingers on her messy hair. Their lips intertwined with an ease as a result of the memory of kisses they had exchanged before. She felt as if she could melt in his arms, and he seemed more than capable of doing anything to keep her close.

The moment continued to intensify, both feeling the heat and desire when their hands started to wander more, and the kiss got messier. Even when they didn’t want to stop, (Y/N) felt George taking a step back, his lips swollen and his breathing fast.

They stayed silent for a moment, recognizing what they had done, yet there was no trace of regret between them.

“It’s best if I give you some space… I’ll see you outside,” he said. The girl nodded, still at a loss for words after their intimate moment. He offered her a final smile before stepping out of the bathroom, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water to steady himself.

With a heavy heart, (Y/N) stepped into the shower, letting the water wash over her as she replayed the moments of intimacy in her mind. After finishing, she went to George's bedroom, lying down and noting his scent lingering on the pillow. Meanwhile, George was in the shower, struggling to clear his mind and not let thoughts of her overwhelm him.

How could you not want more than that? The desire for a deeper connection lingered, unspoken but palpable, as they both lacked courage to express it.

[elysiaheaven]

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮-𝟏𝟎-(The Fox's Wedding)

Moze's figure disappeared into the shadows, you stood there, the weight of his words lingering in the air. His unexpected kindness had thrown you off balance, stirring something inside you that had been long buried beneath your facade. But even in that brief moment of connection, you couldn't help but feel the crushing weight of your own guilt and shame.

You took a deep breath and whispered to yourself, "I'll protect Jiaoqiu with my life... someone like him deserves to live." The words came out soft, almost reverent. The thought of Jiaoqiu, with all his complexities, being hurt in any way was unbearable. No matter how cold he acted toward you, you knew deep down that he was a good person—someone who had saved lives and fought for others.

Then, in a sudden, bitter twist of humor, you added with a hollow laugh, "And someone like me... deserves to be beheaded." You tried to pass it off as a joke, but the darkness in your tone gave away more than you intended.

You let out a long sigh, running a hand through your hair, feeling the strain of everything that had transpired. You knew Moze was gone, but you spoke into the night as if he could still hear you. "People like me don't get happy endings, do they? We either get killed by our own hands or someone else's. But until then..." You trailed off, the thoughts swirling in your head.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into the fleeting sense of humor, mocking your own fate. You had lived with the knowledge that redemption was a far-off fantasy, and yet, here you were, pretending to play the role of a reformed monster for the sake of someone you couldn't even admit you cared for.

You glanced in the direction where Moze had left and whispered, "I'll protect him, no matter what it takes... even if it means my head rolls."

You approached Jiaoqiu's house, you saw him searching for you among the crowd, his concern evident in every line of his face. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He truly cared, even if his words and actions were often harsh.

You lingered in the shadows, watching him with a mix of admiration and longing. Despite his cold demeanor, there was something incredibly endearing about him. The way he cared for others, the way he took responsibility—it was all so earnest. You felt a strong urge to hug him But you reminded yourself of the importance of consent and the need to respect his boundaries.

Instead, you floated over to him and playfully called out, "Peek-a-boo!" You couldn't help the teasing smile that spread across your face. Jiaoqiu's reaction was immediate; he looked at you with a mix of surprise and irritation.

"Stay away," he said firmly, but there was a hint of something softer in his eyes. "Follow me."

You sighed softly, feeling a little deflated. "I'm tired," you responded, your voice tinged with fatigue.

Jiaoqiu glanced at you, his expression softening just a fraction. "I need to bandage someone. You can rest for a while."

Determined to make a difference, you offered, "I'll prepare dinner for you."

Jiaoqiu's face grew serious. "I don't want it."

You were taken aback by his refusal but remained resolute. "I'm preparing some Luofu specials. It'll be good for you."

He shook his head, dismissing your offer. "Just get lost. I don't care about food right now."

Despite his words, you went ahead and prepared the meal anyway. It was a way to show him that you cared, even if he was too stubborn to admit he wanted or needed anything.

When you brought the dishes to his house, you hoped he would be touched, but his response was predictably curt. "I can't taste flavors anyway. Just leave it."

Your heart sank a little, but you masked your disappointment with a smile. "Alright. I'll leave it here."

In fact, you didn't! 

You finished preparing the meal, you knew you had to use a bit of your own soul's energy to enhance the taste of the food. It was a delicate process, but you had learned to balance the act of using your energy without completely draining yourself. The gift and the curse of your soul allowed you to give others something they couldn't..

It's a curse because, you always want to do something for someone. If you use too much, It's a death sentence for yourself.

You carefully infused the dishes with just enough of your essence to make the flavors come alive. From the sweets to the spiciest dishes, you wanted Jiaoqiu to experience the full spectrum of tastes. Once everything was ready, you waited anxiously for him to arrive.

When Jiaoqiu walked in, you greeted him with a cold, detached demeanor. "I prepared the food," you said simply. "I wanted to see if you could taste it."

He looked at you with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. You didn't say much more, just watched as he approached the table.

He started with the sweet dishes, his expression changing as he took a bite. His eyes widened in surprise. "I can taste it, How..?" he murmured, almost incredulously.

"A magician never reveals their secret!"

He moved on to the soup, savoring the flavors as if discovering them for the first time. You watched him, feeling a weak, but satisfied, smile form on your lips. You were happy to see him enjoy the food, even if it meant sacrificing a bit of yourself.

When he finished, he looked at you with a more genuine expression of gratitude. "Thank you," he said quietly.

You leaned back, trying to keep up your cold facade despite the way his words affected you. "You owe me one," you stated, keeping your tone even.

He nodded, still looking appreciative. "Okay. I'll remember that."

You sat alone, the remnants of the day weighed heavily on your heart. The room was dim, illuminated only by the flickering light of a single lamp. The remnants of the meal you prepared lay untouched on the table. You felt the overwhelming emptiness, a darkness that seemed to consume you from within.

Your thoughts drifted back to the echoes of a time long past. 

The emptiness engulfs and devours me, as I collapsed crying.

Loneliness, anger, cold eyes, I took it inside me and cried.

I can't trust anyone.

The world has shown me its cruel face too many times. Every step I took towards others only led to betrayal, to pain. How could I have expected anything different? My heart hardened, my soul encased in ice, all because I sought solace where there was none.

I tried to forge connections, to find some semblance of understanding, but each attempt was met with rejection.  an entity bound by my own curse. How could anyone ever truly trust me? Even when I tried to be good, to be kind, the shadows of my past always caught up with me.

Were those mistakes even yours to begin with?

Every gesture, every act of kindness, was a facade, a desperate attempt to grasp at the fragments of humanity I once knew. But now, every time I reach out, I only find emptiness. My efforts feel hollow, the affection I give, meaningless.

The emptiness inside me is a void that no amount of external validation can fill. I can't trust anyone, and maybe I shouldn't. The pain of being let down, of having my heart shattered—it's too much to bear. I'm left with only the cold, distant gaze of my own reflection, a reminder of what I've become.

I've seen the ugliness of betrayal firsthand, and now it's become a part of me. Even when I try to make things right, to repair the damage, it seems I only create more. The cycle continues, and I am trapped in it, unable to break free.

So here I am, alone with my sorrow, my anger, and my unending loneliness. I cry not just for the past, but for the future I fear I'll never have. The weight of my existence presses down on me, and all I can do is weep for the life I once dreamed of—a life that now feels so far out of reach.

I want to be...

I want to be be helpful to you Jiaoqiu...I know how it should happen.

You have a heart of kind person, I'll do everything in power to make sure...You don't see me in this...pathetic form.

A form, you'll know didn't do anything.....

"Y/n? Can you listen?"

Jiaoqiu looked at you with his usual cold expression, he motioned toward the single bed.

"Sleep here," he said, his voice as indifferent as ever.

You tilted your head and smiled slyly. "Why won't you buy a master bed? You'd have more room." He didn't answer right away, and you took the opportunity to tease him a little more. "I guess searching for herbs and getting married to a spirit goddess who betrayed an entire village wasn't exactly part of your life plan, was it?"

Jiaoqiu's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't refute your words. His silence was enough of an answer. He seemed tired, worn out from the day's events, and you could sense the weight he carried from being bound to you.

You continued with a slight laugh, "How about we get married in a *good* way next time? You know, the proper human way?" You winked at him, knowing full well that it was a joke—a way to poke at his guarded nature.

He shot you a deadpan look. "I'll take the sofa." Without waiting for your reply, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, smiling to yourself.

You watched him settle onto the sofa, his frame rigid and uncomfortable. As soon as you heard his steady breathing, indicating he was asleep, you couldn't resist. With a soft sigh, you used your powers to gently levitate his body, carefully carrying him over to the single bed. His form was light under your control, and despite your weakening powers, you placed him gently onto the bed, making sure he wouldn't wake.

Afterward, you grabbed the hugging pillow, wrapped yourself around it, and plopped down on the couch, feeling oddly content. You hadn't felt this... serene in a long time. The gesture wasn't grand, but something about seeing Jiaoqiu asleep on the bed brought a strange warmth to your chest.

As you snuggled into the pillow, a soft smile crept across your face. The darkness that usually clouded your mind felt a little lighter, even if just for a moment. 

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you drifted into sleep feeling something close to peace.

In the morning, you woke up groggily, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the window. As you shifted, you realized Jiaoqiu was sitting beside you on the couch, arms crossed and staring at you with an expression that was unmistakably irritated.

You sighed inwardly, already knowing what he was upset about. With a teasing smile, you said, "I fell on my butt, so I shifted you to the bed. Had to save myself from the discomfort."

His expression didn't soften, and he raised an eyebrow. "How did you *shift* me, exactly?"

"Oh, you know," you grinned, "I carried you. Like a princess. You were really light, honestly."

The moment you said it, his eye twitched in irritation. Before you could react, he suddenly moved, pinning you against the couch. His hands firmly held your wrists above your head, his body pressing against yours in a way that was more commanding than anything you had experienced with him before. His face was inches from yours, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

"No more tricks," he growled, his voice low and edged with frustration. "You're awful, using your powers on me whenever it suits you."

You smirked, trying to ignore the way your heart picked up its pace. "Wanting to make you sleep comfortably was a mistake? I didn't think you'd mind a little help."

He leaned in closer, his eyes sharp and unwavering. "Don't be kind to me," he said, his voice cold but carrying a strange undercurrent of something else, something deeper. "It won't help. Not with someone like you."

Your teasing smile faltered for a moment as you searched his expression. There was something guarded there, something that wasn't just anger. "And what's wrong with kindness?" you asked, your voice softening a little. "Maybe I'm just trying to make things better."

He shook his head, his grip tightening on your wrists. "You don't fix things with kindness, not the way you've been doing it. It's all manipulation, and you know it."

You let out a soft laugh, though it didn't reach your eyes. "Maybe... But even if it's a little fake, can't I try?"

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you palpable. His hold on you loosened slightly, though he didn't let go. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the same cold detachment, but with a flicker of something human, something that made him hesitate.

"Just... don't do it again," he finally muttered, releasing your wrists and stepping back. "Stop pretending to be kind. It won't change anything."

You sat up, rubbing your wrists as you watched him. His back was turned, but the tension in his shoulders was still evident. You felt a pang in your chest, something unfamiliar—maybe regret, maybe guilt. You weren't sure.

But as you stared at his retreating figure, you couldn't help but wonder if there was still a way to get through to him, to show him that maybe, just maybe, you weren't as awful as he thought.

[kissingkiszka]

The Sweet Symphony-Chapter One: Rockstar Romeo

Jake Kiszka x Reader series

Words: 600+

Summary: shopping at the local record store on your one day off, you have an enticing experience with an unexpected encounter.

CW: MDNI, 18+, fluff, flirtatious banter

This chapter is literally so short I don’t even think it can be considered a full chapter! This is more of an introduction to set the scene!

Masterlist

—————————————————————

The bright sun was beaming down into the local record store window in Nashville, Tennessee. You finally had a day off from your job at the hair salon, and you were going to spend it doing the thing you loved. Music. More specifically, shopping for vintage records. Your fingers hovered over the rock section until you came across Elvis Presley. You flipped through the old records, noticing a man across from you began to scan his hand over the Elvis section as well. At the bottom of the collection, there was The Essential Elvis Presley in mint condition. Your hand flew to pick up the record, only to be met with the other man's hand on top of yours. Your fingers softly interlocked with his. He mirrored your image as you pushed your hair behind your ear, trying to get a better look at the man. He had long dark brown hair accompanied by matching dark brown eyes. His hands were the farthest thing from soft. They were cold and covered in calluses, you weren't going to lie. Staring into his eyes, a special kind of tension grew. It was if your souls had entered an intense staring contest. He opened his mouth, beginning to speak, but you needed the first word.

"Elvis?" As you continued to interlock fingers, the tension built. You begin to wonder if the contact continues because of your need for the record, or for a need of something else?

"He's one of my bands top influences." He declared, a wide smirk appearing on his face.

"You're in a band?" Your grip on the record grew tighter. It was now a game to see who would let go first. "What band?"

"Greta Van Fleet. we've been around for a few years now, but we're still trying to gain traction." He gave you a soft smile. "I play guitar. Been playing since I was three."

"Well are you any good?" You sarcastically questioned.

He chuckles to himself, running his large hand through his hair. "Why don't you come find out?"He let go of the record, letting you have it. "We're doing a charity concert tomorrow night. The Blue Room. I can save you a spot on our guest list. Come see us, we'll show you what music is."

You picked up the record, nodding. "I'll come by if I happen to be available." Your plans were to sit on your couch and binge watch the newest Netflix show. But those plans could easily take a rain check for a concert, especially if he would be playing the guitar. You could see him itching to keep the conversation going.

"My treat." He grabbed the record from your clutch and took it up to the register before you could protest. "Now everytime you play it, you'll think of me." He swiped his card, waiting for the transaction to go through.

"Ah yes, the mysterious musician I met at my local record store who will forever change my life." You joked as he handed the record back to you. "But, thank you."

"Who knows? Maybe there's something more here." He started towards the door, never taking his eyes off you.

You shrugged, having nothing left to say.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow darling."

"Yeah, yeah it's actually Y/N." You chuckled to yourself at the pure desperation of the situation. As you turned to leave, a panic set in. "Wait, I never got your name."

He paused for a moment, eyeing you up and down.

"Jake." He said with a sly nod. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses and left the record store.

[avatarkv]

To kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed, (when you are young they assume you know nothing.)

✎ Synopsis ! You had a special bond with Lo'ak since you were children, but now he's pulling away and you're left to watch him slowly cut the remaining bond you two have. You try your best to reach out, but it appears your efforts are in vain as he moves farther and farther away.

Content & warning: Lo'ak x reader! Lo'ak is kind of a dick here. No happy ending! You wanted angst and I shall serve. (wc; 6196)

Lo’ak didn’t know how to love. He found his freedom in the lushness of Pandora, tumbling off the highest mountains, careening down its curves and entangling himself in the greenery. He often found himself giving in to the feeling of excitement as it rushes through his body, a sudden drop that would take him by surprise but vanish almost too quickly. It was a sensation he enjoyed immensely, one moment of pleasure and the next nothing but a light tickle running down his spine.

He found comfort in knowing that nothing lasts, and like his fleeting adrenaline, everything would die down eventually– it is what it is, his tagline.

He wasn’t an idiot though, knew very well how his crass attitude got under everyone’s skin. The clan would stare differently, whisper a different tone and shift oddly when he came around. Lo’ak stood out like a sore thumb and while it was better than being his brother’s shadow, he hated how it made him feel alien. Oh great mother, he truly was his father’s son.

His head would always hang low whenever he was in the presence of the people and perhaps that’s why he never enjoyed a crowd; was never fond of gatherings or parties. He always found a way to sneak from Neteyam’s watchful eye, much to his dismay. It was a talent, a skill, for him to disappear before you’d even know he was there. 

But he could never outrun you, absolutely hated how you always seemed to be one step behind him. Lo’ak had even lost some of his hiding spots because of your persistence. Tonight was no different; he'd leave, and you'd follow.

“Know you're there,” His hoarse voice called out for you behind the bushes. He was tipsy– eagerly sipping from the flask he stole from the quarters. “You have to try this, come on.”

“I just got here so joke’s on you.” You knew better than to accompany him in this recklessness, knew better than to trail behind him like a second tail. “You’ll definitely get skinned this time.”

You saw in him something that you could never quite put your finger on, something that made you feel drawn to him– no words could explain how you felt weightless around Lo’ak. Maybe that’s why you never let yourself be driven away by all the moments he tried so hard to keep his distance.

“Nah, you never snitch. At least not on me,” You had only shrugged while approaching the log he sat on, pushing back the booze that he tried to hand over. 

He rolled his eyes, how typical of you. “You should get a life. Honestly, it’s creepy how you always manage to find me.” You didn’t mind his unfiltered choice of words towards you anymore. You grew to handle those– the way everything he said once felt like bricks down your stomach, now reduced to the smallest of stings nipping on your chest.

Your personality was a stark contrast to his recklessness, similar to Jake’s eldest. You were on everyone's good side— top of your class, a great healer alongside Kiri, skillful weaver, you name it. On top of that, you had a charisma that made everyone swoon. It never seemed to work on Lo’ak though, he hated the spotlight that adorned you, hated the way you continued to follow him like you meant to put salt on his ever-growing wound. You were everything he wasn’t– the last thing he’d ever want beside him, a carbon copy of his goody two-shoes brother. 

With that, you just didn’t stand out. To him, you were just like everyone else— everything that he isn’t. 

“And you shouldn’t waste yours,” You shot back, “Besides, you aren’t that hard to find anyway.” 

You didn’t miss how he whispered out ‘creep’ under his breath, yet you reveled at the fact that he didn’t ask you to leave. Your hands fidgeted under the present you meant to give him tonight, covered prettily with thick leaves and colorful ribbons. You stood up, casting a shadow above him. “Got you something,”

He looked up at you in surprise, before his expression settled back to the usual disdain. “What is it?” He asked gruffly. You wondered if he was actually interested or just trying to get rid of you faster than usual.

You extended your arms and carefully placed the present on his lap, “Open it and see for yourself.”

He eyed the present suspiciously before he began to take off the leaves and ribbons one by one, revealing a dark-blue velvet box. He opened it slightly, eyes widening as he saw what was inside—a green shawl, adorned with different beads and shells. The pattern was mesmerizing and he found himself running his hand through the cloth, your hard work was evident on the intricate design.

You smiled shyly, “Thought it’d look really nice on you.” He pulled out the shawl and examined it in his hands before looking up at you quizzically as if he didn’t know how to respond. The silence was palpable, heavy with anticipation. 

Oh Eywa, you make it so difficult for him. “Jesus, you can learn a thing or two from Kiri.” 

You felt your heart sink, mood completely soiled. You were sure he would’ve loved it, had to ask around the other Sullys’ of his favorite color or if there were certain trinkets that irritated his skin so you’ll know what to not put. 

“You don’t like it?” It was hard not to miss the sadness in your voice and it made him wince. 

“Thought you would’ve known by now that I’m not interested,” He said, sipping one last time from the flask, before standing up. “You’re this desperate?” You heard him mutter, followed by a low chuckle as he walked away.

This time, you couldn’t be bothered to go after him, feeling the familiar heartache creeping back and gluing your feet down the soil. Your eyes were transfixed by the fire in front you. Despite how it burned brightly, loudly cackling, you can’t help but feel cold. He was achingly near and yet far from your grasp. You wonder when things changed– when he became distant and cruel.

The flames danced around each other as if in a passionate embrace but the sparks never reached you. The ache in your chest started to grow, a heavy reminder that you could never get too close. You stay hopeful- that maybe one day, he will come back and things will be different again.

You remember when you first met him, so charismatic and full of life. You felt like a magnet was between the two of you, a link that kept drawing you closer. His voice was warm and his eyes were gilded with kindness. He made it hard to say no.

You watched him change, knew very well how different he became as he grew older. Aside from how his figure had drastically changed, muscles more firm and visible, his features were something worth staring for hours— it was no secret that their parents' genes were good. While Neteyam was the splitting image of his mother, he was Jake’s. 

You remember being taller than him when you were kids and you enjoyed teasing him for it every minute. It was an inside joke you had when you were kids, that he couldn’t come in adventures because of the required height. He was so easy to piss off, but you didn’t relent when the other clan’s kids poked fun on him for other things. 

“My sa’nok said not to play with you, because you are demon!”

The others nodded in agreement, making little Lo’ak’s eyes burn brighter with tears. “You are not even true na’vi, no na’vi has five fingers!”

“I am Na’vi!” Lo’ak tried to hiss, but it only came out as a high-pitched scream, clutching the wooden model of Toruk Makto close to his chest. “If dad hears about this, he will— 

“Boo, a tattle-tale! Just go home, freak!” 

The laugh died down when one of the kids felt a rock thrown just behind his head. He immediately turns, forehead creased. “Hey!”

“Leave him alone!” You were high up the tree branches, loading your make-shift slingshot and aiming it towards them. “Lo’ak belongs and if you say otherwise, I’m hitting you again!” 

They had scurried after the second hit, seeing how the pebbles had changed into bigger rocks. You were in big trouble after that though, but you remember Lo’ak sitting by the entrance of your hut, legs swinging as he patiently waited for you. A friendship bloomed that very day, or maybe something more– or so you thought. You and Lo’ak grew up together. 

You sighed, finally standing up and making your way back to your hut. 

You watched him change and you wouldn’t think in a hundred of years that he’d be the one to make you feel alien. It became more and more apparent that Lo'ak didn't want anything to do with you and you could never fathom why.

“Kiri!” You yelled, running towards the group. 

Lo’ak loudly groaned. “Did you have to invite her?” 

“Well you invited Spider, it’s only fair that I bring a friend in too.” Kiri answered in the same sassiness as his brother and it made him roll his eyes. She took your hand and tightly held on to it.

“She’ll just be dead weight— a burden along the way.” He spoke so harshly of you like you weren’t standing there in front of them. You rubbed your arms in embarrassment, “She literally follows me around every chance she gets, give me a break.”

Spider jabbed him from the side, “Dude don’t be a dick, just let her come.”

His eyes widened as an idea seemed to have passed his mind, “How about we fly together instead?” Your slumped shoulders rose in anticipation as you waited for him to continue, “Later, when I get back. Wait for me at our usual spot.”

Kiri wasn’t having any of it though and she immediately shoves Lo’ak, “I swear to Eywa, whatever you’re planning.” 

He raises both his hands, “Relax, I just want quality time with you guys— is that too much to ask?” It was hard not to sense the mischief in his tone, but the way he had hurriedly pulled them away from you gave no room for negotiation. You watched as they walked away with Lo’ak’s arms slung on each of their shoulders. 

You were oblivious to his true intentions, yet you carried on with your duties hurriedly throughout the day. Your mother could see the glint in your eyes, how you eagerly waited for the day to be over. You were excited, you felt like your chest could explode. Lo’ak had finally asked you out after years of trying to get on his good side again– years of pining and dedication and you hoped to have finally softened his calloused heart again. You felt your mother kneel behind you, taking the comb from your hands and brushing through your hair herself. 

“Someone’s getting all dolled up, what’s the occasion?” She teased, parting your locks to braid.

You smiled, fingers playing with the many beads you wanted to put on your hair. “Going out with Lo’ak today,” You answered, “We’re flying our Ikrans before eclipse.”

You heard your mother sigh and it was hard not to be disheartened. She knew of all your dilemmas about the boy, all the rants and tears you had shed. “Oh, my sweet child. You know Lo’ak, he’s not the same boy he was when you were kids.” 

“I know that but,” You drew a deep breath, shoulders slumped for the nth time today, “he promised this time, you know?” 

“Ma’ite, you tire your heart and for what? You accept him with open arms and you return empty-handed. Maybe it’s time you give love a chance to someone more willing– someone who would reciprocate.” Your mother had turned you towards her and you could see the worry evident in the creases of her eyebrows and the pity in her eyes. “It’s been years, allow yourself to grow.” 

Lo’ak was worth more than your heart– you’d give him everything if you had to, but there was something with your mother’s words that unraveled more than a hurtful understanding. You weren’t a kid anymore and so was he, yet you stayed the same girl who stayed by him. 

You carried her words throughout the day and here you were now, sitting by the boulder at you and Lo’ak’s spot, still hopeful for his coming. 

The sun burned and faltered, eclipse neared and there was still no sight of him. You waited eagerly, dully watching the nearby animals that passed as each hour came and went. But as every hour dragged on, your hope began to dim until at last you realized that he wasn't coming at all. With shoulders slumped and gaze low, you trudged back back the same way you came, head low and heart heavy.

Your heart sank as you crept through the village, eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion; but even more so from disappointment. You returned, hoping against hope that it was a misunderstanding and that this was only a matter of miscommunication. But what greeted you at last made it all too clear. There sat Lo'ak, oblivious to all else around him, flirting and laughing carelessly with Sa’yu, a known songstress.

Your eyes burned from the sight. As the emotions rose up like a huge wave, you found yourself unable to stay any longer. You turned away, heading back to your hut. You were boiling with emotions, the urge to lash out at the one responsible for consuming your every thought. 

When did they even become close? How come you’ve never noticed both of them in one picture? It was confusing and above all, it was unfair. The night carried on with your restless thoughts. 

“You’re saying Lo’ak didn’t show up?” Kiri asked, voice tight with irritation. You were making bracelets with her as you told Kiri of the occurrences last night and she seemed more upset than you were, “And him and Sa’yu? Oh great mother, allow me to knot that skxawng’s braid and tail together.” 

“It’s fine, why do I even bother.” 

She flicked your forehead in return, “You’re too nice for your own good, it’s sickening. This is clearly all on Lo’ak, stop enabling his angsty-teenager phase.” Kiri looked at you, eyes focused on the colorful beads and thread, “See, and you’re even making him a bracelet. Even I don’t know what made him change.” 

You sighed, lowering your work. “I don’t know, I don’t know. How do you unlove someone you’ve learned to love all your life?” 

“Barf. You and your dramatics,” She tried to humor, but when she saw how your frown only deepened, Kiri sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder. “__, why do you even stay?”

“What?” Your eyes finally meet hers, 

“I mean, he has been telling you to leave him alone– that he wants you out, so why do you stay?”

It was a harsh blow, but nonetheless needed. Why did you stay? “Because,” You frustratedly palmed your face, running your hand through your hair harshly. “Because there’s this small part inside me that knows what we had before is still salvageable, that he’ll come around and back to me again.”

“Skxawng!” Kiri scolded, following close behind her brother. “__ is a nice person, you of all people should know that.” Lo'ak sighed wearily, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. He was expecting it would come to this eventually, but avoided thinking about it as long as he could. "Where is this going, Kiri?"

"You stood her up," She crossed her arms tightly, one eyebrow raised, “And you with Sa’yu? When did that happen?”

He groans, throwing his head back and massaging his temples. “There’s nothing going on between us, can’t I have any friends?” 

Kiri stepped back, narrowing her eyes. She had always been protective of you and never hesitated to call out his brother’s wrongdoings. After a few seconds of silence, she finally spoke up, “Nothing wrong with you meeting new people, but what’s your deal with __?” 

“Nothing, I swear.” 

“Oh?” Kiri’s eyebrows perked up in surprise and her head tilted inquisitively, a small smile playing on her lips. “Invite her to the dance then,” she suggested.

Lo'ak's eyes widened in disbelief; He knew there was no way he could blatantly ask you out, not with the way things were between you. “What?”

“You heard me. If nothing’s wrong then have her as your plus-one for the clan’s gathering,” She challenged, “Apologize to her right now for last night.”

“Fine, I will. You’ll see.” Kiri grinned and clapped her hands together, not doubting Lo'ak's determination in the slightest. She knew just where to strike his ego. "That's my brother! Now go, before I change my mind." 

Lo’ak only nodded sharply, not wanting to get into an argument with her. He knew better than to get on his sister’s bad side, Eywa might strike him down this time or something. She pursued her lips, motioning him to go and find you. With a last roll of his eyes, he left. 

Lo’ak didn’t know how to love and maybe he would never. 

He swears the moment he had tried desperately to shake you off, but you lingered like a tattooed kiss, every inch of skin burning from when you once held him. He knew then that no matter what he did, there was no escape from these emotions that always rekindled.

Lo’ak knew where to find you, so he followed the familiar path of gravel that led straight towards your hidden spot. Sure enough, there you were sitting in all your beauty and grace. He couldn't help but smile at the sight, taking solace in the fact that a place like this was someplace both of them once considered home; a place where both of you felt safe from any troubles. 

“__,” He called out for you and your head sharply turned to where he stood. Your creased eyebrows softened, feeling last night’s emotions rush back to your system. 

“What do you want?” You immediately averted your gaze back to your work. 

He sighed as he walked towards you, sitting on the spot beside you. “I’m..” He frustratedly nipped on his bottom lip, “I’m sorry.” The apology felt unfamiliar on his lips, and it lacked sincerity. But how could you possibly turn away from him? Maybe this was the slow progress you had been praying for; small steps in the right direction. Your mind had already been made up before he even said sorry, but hearing it out loud seemed to be making a difference. 

“Doesn’t sound like you mean it.” Your voice was low and your eyes still didn’t meet his.

“I do! I really do, I just.” He tried to think of a reason, tried to make you finally look at him. “I’ve forgotten, it slipped out of my mind.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his pathetic excuse. 

He didn't miss even the slightest action that suggested your irritation. Lo'ak scooted closer, thighs now touching, “To show how sincere I am about my apology, let me take you to tomorrow's dance.” This caught your attention and made your ears perk up; he saw it and felt his heart swell with hope. Taking this as an encouraging sign, he continued. "I’m really sorry.”

He was only sorry for last night but for you, it felt like an apology worth all the time he had forced you away. You finally glanced at him, sighing deeply. “Fine, on one condition.” 

His eyes widened, heart racing in anticipation. “What?” He asked.

You held his hand as you proclaimed, “You confide in me again.” Your eyes brimmed with emotion, radiating a deep sincerity. “I miss you and I mean it,” you said softly. He could barely stutter out a response, his throat tight and mouth dry from the intensity of the moment. His heart was thundering in his chest and suddenly he felt hyper-aware of how close the two of you were standing to each other.

Before he could even speak, you reached for something behind you– the bracelet you were making with Kiri. “And wear that tomorrow for the dance.” You had smiled so softly, it was hard for him to say no. Lo’ak took it, taking in your craft and its details again. You always knew how to make something simple so much more. 

Much to your surprise, he stayed there, watching you work as the day burned.

He knew he couldn’t escape this one gathering. 

It was for them– the clan’s young warriors who had power through the many trainings. The party was in full bloom; decadent music pulsed through the night air and the bonfire burned brightly at the center. Voices filled the room, rising up and entwining with the melodious drums and feet lightly tapping against the dirt to a distant rhythm. People delighted in the lively environment, standing proudly while their parents praised their children for a job well done. 

Lo’ak stood at the corner, heart raising in anticipation as he searched for you amidst the growing crowd– you were surely taking your sweet time. He had to pry his mother's hands from adjusting his clothing every second (especially when Kiri announced that he had taken you as his partner.) He sipped on his drink, nodding in acknowledgment when people tried to strike a conversation. 

Everything seemed to still and it was like he knew that you had arrived. He twisted his head to where you were and you had already taken his breath from a distance. You stood there, slender frame more outlined with the top you were wearing that seemed to hug your curves just right, outlined by a sliver of light from beyond. You were alight with youth and beauty; skin glowing like honey, eyes bright like a summer sky and lips plump with promise. Your hair danced around shoulders, curls not in your usual braids.

His eyes weren’t the only one following her figure. Everyone’s heads turned as you seemed to search for a familiar face. Lo’ak’s heart swelled in pride knowing you were finding him. With that, he made his way towards you. 

The way he called out for you felt surreal– like nothing bad had ever severed your bond. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good himself, paint drawn intricately along his body and accentuating his build. You smiled in return and it seemed to fluster him. 

“You look,” His shoulders were stiff, heavy with words he wanted to say, “good. You look good.” 

You chuckled as you spun softly, showing off your hard work, “Oh, this old thing?” Lo’ak snickered in reply. 

The first few minutes spent in his company were awkward, as none of you knew how to start a conversation. But after a few drinks and some lighthearted japes about the warriors had been shared amongst each other, laughter soon filled the air and from there it was easier to keep talking. You felt more relaxed and he seemed especially eager to share his stories, almost like it had been pent up from lost time. 

You couldn’t help but stare. She remembered when times like these had been natural, normal; not a problem between them. Lo’ak looked so carefree again, like before. Her chain of thoughts were cut off when the music mellowed down and the elders persuaded their children to dance. 

In the distance, he could feel Kiri’s gaze burning the back of his head. Lo’ak cleared his throat as he stood, nervously cracking his knuckles. Your name rolled out his tongue again– his voice sounded small in his own ears as he asked if she would like to dance with him, but you smiled brightly anyway and answered yes without hesitation.

When you reached the center amidst the sea of other swaying bodies, Lo'ak held out an arm for you tentatively while keeping some distance between them so as not to appear too forward or overbearing. He felt awkward, disgustingly sweaty under his own skin despite the cool air. You had other things in mind; stepping closer and holding your hand out for him, skipping the formalities but maintaining a respectful distance. You squeezed his hand gently and started swaying slowly next to him, encouraging him with soft words of support until Lo 'ak finally began to dance with you. 

A slow, floating piece of music played by the people filled their senses as you moved together in soft steps– weaving around each other with a sensual gracefulness only shared between two known lovers. You swayed to the rhythm, moving from one side of their small area to another. Lo'ak opened his arms to you, an invitation that did not need to be verbalized. With your finger lightly trailing along his hand, you stepped closer and fell into step alongside him.

Your fingers fit perfectly against his, like the spaces between were meant to be filled by you. He tightens his hold, rubbing his thumb over yours– he had never craved warmth until your body was close to his. 

He looked at you, and it wasn't in a way that could make you feel small; quite the opposite. It was as if he were making you feel invincible, as if his gaze alone was enough to make you soar higher than any Ikran could ever take you. His eyes brimmed with love and compassion– feelings which you have yearned all these years. You felt like he was giving you hope again, even for just that moment when all seemed so still yet full of emotion.

He leaned forward, so achingly close, you could feel his breath on your skin as it lingered just on top of your lips, suspended in time and space. Your heart beat quickly as you closed your eyes expecting a kiss but it never came– Sa'yu's voice called out for Lo'ak. You stepped back abruptly looking away from him, eyes sharply turning to the incoming girl. 

It was like your heart had suddenly burst into a million pieces. Sa’yu stood there all pretty, wearing the green shawl you had made for him, along with the multiple gifts you had given. You looked at Lo'ak in disbelief, eyes wide and wet with tears. You were unable to comprehend the spiraling ache in your stomach, feeling as if the air had been knocked from your lungs. 

Finally, after countless moments of silent stare downs and tensed up muscles that screamed for action, you turned away from him and sprinted away as fast as possible hoping it would be enough distance from him.

Lo’ak would never change and he’ll never be the boy you held close when you were younger.

For once, he was the one who went searching for you.

He kept calling for you, his voice ringing loudly through the forest and disturbing all of the animals in its vicinity. As you began to feel your breath become choppy and labored, you turned to him with a piercing look and he felt his heart becoming constricted by an unyielding force. His mind raced with emotions as he thought about the severity of the moment, how one gesture could so easily upend everything he thought was set in stone. 

“You gave her my gifts?” Your voice cracked and he fought the urge to wince,

Of course he took an out. Of course he had to make it hurt, so when he felt the low snicker that erupted from his lips, he knew there was no turning back already. “What was I supposed to do? Wear those hideous things and let everyone know you have some sort of hold on me?” His tone was mean, unlike his actions just moments ago,  “It’s embarrassing— you embarrass me.” 

You didn’t let that falter you, not when you had him so close already— not when you almost had him again. “Look me right in the eye and tell me you didn’t feel even the slightest tingle in your heart when you held me near,” You placed your hand right in his chest and you swore you felt his breath hitch, heartbeat racing from your hold. “The dance, we.. we were about to kiss!” 

“Jesus Christ, you’re insufferable.” Lo’ak harshly shoved you away, “Kiss? If it weren’t for Kiri, I would not have even danced with you!” 

You heard nothing but your sobs and his harsh breathing. After a beat, he spoke again. “What made you think that I would ever be with someone like you?”

“What happened to us?” You asked, almost in a whisper, but when he tried to turn his back and leave, you had gripped on his forearm. “No, for once, finish your shit— just what am I now, Lo’ak?” 

“A damn mistake, that’s what you are.” His voice was firm and unrelenting. “So for once, listen when I say I want you gone. Don’t want you anywhere near me, or if you’re that skillful, try to even avoid my line of sight. I don’t know how much more I can take of your clinginess but believe me when I say, I am so sick of you.” 

“We were okay! When we were kids, we–” You tried to reply in the same fierceness, only to be cut off again.

“__, we were kids! Did you think that we were gonna stay the same?” He spoke your name so softly before, as if it was meant only for him and not the world around him, but now it sounded so terrible coming out of his mouth.

Another moment of quiet settles over the area. You watch Lo'ak's face contort into someone you didn't know, someone awfully unfamiliar.

“Yeah, maybe it was stupid of me to think that we would be the same.” You had let go of his arm, drying the tears off your face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Lo’ak.” 

Lo’ak would never change and he’ll never be the boy you held close when you were younger.

You were the first to walk away, not even turning your head back to glance at his stiff figure. It took everything in you to take that step forward, knowing that this could be the last time you ever hear his voice again, let alone see him, but you had to. 

Something died that night. Something he was so sure he had already buried long ago.

At first, he reveled in the silence. Lo’ak didn’t realize it at first, didn’t realize how you had been avoiding him these days. He found himself near the cliffs again, wanting to clear his head by diving head-first down the water, wanting to feel the same rush of adrenaline his body yearned for. He found a higher platform, more daring and scary. With a sharp inhale, he took a leap.

The shout that ripped out his throat once he emerged from the water was relieving, his heart pounding madly as he tried to scan the area for who knows what. 

“__, did you see that?” He shouted and it took him by surprise when he called for you.

You weren’t watching near the edge of the rocks and realization hit him harder than the crashing waves. Lo’ak had successfully pushed you away and now the hollow spot in his chest where you once resided was the only thing left to accompany him. This was what he wanted all his life and now that you were gone, he was left to ponder why. 

Perhaps he hated how you drifted away from him, hated how he was hyperaware and thought the worst out of everything.

When you’re young, everyone assumes the worst– like you know nothing, but the very moment you stood up for him when no one did, he knew very well that you’d stick by him for a very long time. Lo’ak liked that idea, loved the thought of hearing your voice everywhere his feet went and your lingering touches. Loved how you could make something simple so intimate like when you’d aimlessly draw on his palm with your fingers, tracing along the lines and stripes or how both you had a favorite star. 

You were supposed to be like him– supposed to be with him. Not with his stupid brother who had everything already. 

When you were at the age of training with the other kids, he had watched from the sideline as you progressed quickly, more better than him. Nothing could save him from the dropping ache he felt down his stomach from the night where everything had changed. It was innocent, the usual stargazing you both did when it was already eclipse. 

You both laid together on the moist grass, fingers pointing to wherever. You were at your usual spot, enclosed with tall trees, plants, and a huge boulder Lo’ak enjoyed climbing with you. It was surrounded with moss and grew flowers over time. 

Lo’ak’s body turned to you, “What do you wanna be when you’re older?”

It was like him to ask questions– always the curious boy he is. You didn’t mind it, in fact, you loved that he always asked; made you feel interesting, like something inside you was worth learning. “Mighty?” You hummed as you tried to think again, hand gripping the end of your chin. You turned your body towards him as well, and you could see him waiting eagerly– like what was to leave your mouth was dire. 

“Like.. like a warrior! Yeah, a warrior– not much to do here anyway, huh? Someone like Neteyam, maybe. Wanna train hard and make everyone proud.” 

Maybe it was foolish of him to think that you’d bring his name up when you talked about your future, but never did he expect his brother’s. Lo’ak felt a wave of epiphany. It was like everything clicked; the stars themselves aligned and the air blew a lighter wind because he swears he saw more clearly that night. How your features accentuated under the bioluminescent plants and how your eyes glowed a brighter hue when you talked about your passion; you were just like the others. 

You wouldn’t progress with him weighing you down, knew that you should be hanging out with the other kids. Lo’ak wasn’t stupid to not hear how your name had made its way to the clan’s gossips when they talked about him, how others would exclude you because you were friends with him. You wouldn’t progress with him and he knew it. He’s different and that’s what he’s been told all his life. 

“You’ll be the mightiest warrior in the clan, I’ll make sure of it.” He laid on his back again, heart heavy. You couldn’t help but stare at his face while his eyes traveled along the littered stars. Lo’ak was every nice word you could think of, every word you knew– loved him to bits and pieces. To you, he was the embodiment of the sky itself and he owned every goddamn star and planet and it’s evident on his freckled face.

While his plan did work, seeing how you had become top of your class and well known, it hurt him that he stayed just the same– still that young boy that knew nothing better. 

What he didn’t know was when drowsiness had overtaken him that night, you still pondered on the question, still contemplated with your words and how you were going to deliver the message you desperately wanted him to understand.

“Wanna stay with you, most of all.” Your fingers fidgeted and your voice started out small, “It’s stupid, but aren’t we stupider? Think we should always stick together.” You tried to be subtle with asking him to stay– to never leave. You were kids, too early for grown up talk and mates, so just how could you tell him that you loved him beyond your years? When you didn’t get an answer, you glanced at his figure only to see how he had fallen asleep, chest softly rising every breath. One day, you’ll get to tell him. 

But time had run out and there were no more chances left to give. Lo’ak had exhausted every possibility and all his opportunities were gone. He was sure he had broken your heart beyond repair.

Now if Lo’ak had to speak about love, for all he knows, he’d talk about you. 

☆ mauve here! GOD DAMN this is the longest i've ever written and not even for a chapter for my sully fam fic, i'm ashamed. finally wrote something for my sweet lo'ak !! i love him please. thank you so much for requesting this, had to wrack my brain and shit, but i think it's very worth it.

criticisms are welcome! this is such a lengthy post, i can't even tell anymore.

tags: @aonungsmate

© avatarkv, do not repost.

[ek-atherine]

Ink Manifestation (Satoru Gojo x Reader): Chapter Seven

"The special-grade cursed apparition, Rika Orimoto was fully manifested for 442 seconds," one of the directors lectured Satoru and me. I couldn't help but wonder if they couldn't use that time for something more productive. I rolled my eyes, trying to maintain focus during the lecture.

Satoru and I had been summoned to a meeting with the higher-ups, where we faced a barrage of criticisms and questions about our methods. For once, Satoru had his sunglasses over his blindfold; normally, he wore the blindfold over the glasses. I couldn't quite figure out the reason for the switch. We had both opted for casual attire instead of our usual uniforms.

"We entrusted you two with Yuta Okkotsu precisely to prevent this sort of thing," they explained sternly. "There’s no room for excuses."

"Well, that’s good, because we don’t have any excuses," Satoru retorted coolly.

"How can you joke about this?" one of the directors asked incredulously. "If Rika Orimoto had remained out of control, she could have wiped out an entire town."

"If she had, I would’ve risked my life to stop her," Satoru replied firmly.

"As would I," I affirmed, standing by his side. “Listen, now that we’ve seen it, there’s only one thing we can say about that curse, and that’s I don’t understand. Why did a little girl who wasn’t from any line of jujutsu sorcerers become such an immense and powerful curse? We can’t control something that we don’t understand. So, it’s just gonna take trial and error. Leave it alone for a while, and see how it works out.”

Satoru and I started to walk away from the meeting, ready to leave the tension-filled atmosphere behind. However, one of the directors interjected sternly, “Do not forget, Yuta Okkotsu’s execution has only been temporarily suspended.”

“And don’t you forget,” I retorted darkly, locking eyes with them, “that if it comes down to that decision, we will side with Yuta Okkotsu.” With that final statement, Satoru and I turned on our heels and left the room, heading back to the school to meet up with our students.

As we walked down the corridor, Satoru's discontent with the school directors was evident. His frustration carved lines across his face, and he muttered under his breath as he wrestled with his blindfold. The usual confident demeanor was replaced by a rare glimpse of vulnerability.

“Those school directors are such rude older geezers,” he grumbled, his hands fumbling with the blindfold's knot. “I don’t ever wanna become like them.”

I couldn't help but chuckle softly at his annoyance. “Do you want help?” I offered, already sensing his struggle.

Satoru sighed in resignation and squatted down, his disheveled hair falling around his face as he handed me the blindfold. As I took it, our fingers brushed briefly, his undercut catching my attention for a fleeting moment.

“I don’t ever wanna become like them,” Satoru reiterated, his voice tinged with irritation as I securely tied the blindfold around his head.

“You could never be like them,” I reassured him, finishing the knot with a gentle tug. "You're far too charming for that."

He smirked, his mood lightening slightly. “Flattery won't get you out of tying my blindfold, you know.”

“I wouldn't dream of it,” I replied with a grin, standing back up as Satoru adjusted to the blindfold, his usual composure returning.

“They just don’t get it. No one should be allowed to take youth away from young people,” Satoru continued to complain, his voice laced with frustration.

We reached the top of the steps and looked down at the training grounds. Below us, Panda was timing the other three first-years as they ran laps around the track. Their determination was evident even from this distance.

“No one will take their youth away,” I assured him with a smile, trying to lift his spirits.

Satoru glanced over at me, his expression softening. “Yeah, you’re right,” he admitted, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “We’ll make sure of that.”

We watched in silence for a moment, the students’ laughter and shouts echoing up to where we stood. The sight of them, so full of life and energy, served as a poignant reminder of why we did what we did.

Satoru nudged me gently with his elbow. “Wanna bet on who finishes first?”

I raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh, you’re on. Loser buys dinner.”

“Deal,” he agreed, his competitive spirit reignited.

Afterward, Satoru and I brought Yuta to the weapons shed near the track. In order to better control his curse, bit by bit, by embedding it into the weapon of his choice. Then I’ll have a new student to teach in weaponry! Satoru unlocks the door as I lightly rock back and forth with excitement.

“Ladies first,” Satoru says to me with a bow.

“Thank you, good sir,” I thank him jokingly with a curtsy.

I quickly go in with Yuta following after me as I gesture to the weapons scattered neatly across the wall and in different stands and such. Yuta gasps in awe at all the weapons.

“It’s nearly impossible to exorcize a curse as big as Rika Orimoto. But breaking the curse is a different story,” I explain to Yuta as I look through all the different weapons, trying to pick the best one for him.

“You have to identify thousands of knots of cursed energy and unravel them one by one,” Satoru continues. “It’s a method that can only be pursued by you, the person that she’s cursed.”

“What exactly am I supposed to do?” Yuta asks, looking overwhelmed.

I finally pick out a katana for him and toss it to him. “Here, use this,” I tell him. “Because I, sir, am going to be teaching you combat.”

“Whoa, a katana?” he asks in awe, catching it with both hands.

“Yes, a katana,” I confirm with a smile. “It’s a versatile weapon, perfect for channeling and controlling the cursed energy. Plus, it suits you.”

“You see, curses are most stable when they’re possessing an object. If you remember, back at that school, you used that ring to connect to Rika.” Satoru explains. “The pipeline’s already there. So now you need to borrow part of Rika’s curse, imbue it into the katana, and control it. Increase the amount as you repeat it, and eventually, you’ll have the whole curse under your control. Once you do that, you’re free. Both you and her.”

“Imbue the curse into the katana,” Yuta repeats, trying to absorb the information.

“But that’s not all, you’ll have to learn how to wield a blade,” I add with a grin, twirling my own katana, which is made entirely of ink. “You’ll have to learn how to wield a blade.” I look at him with excitement, but Yuta backs away nervously.

“So first things first is some training!” I announce, ready to begin.

We move to the training ground, and I take a stance with my ink katana. “Watch carefully, Yuta. This is how you handle a katana.” I demonstrate a series of basic slashes and thrusts, my movements fluid and precise.

Yuta watches intently, then mimics my stance, albeit awkwardly. “Like this?”

“Not bad for a start,” I say encouragingly. “Now, let’s see how you handle a sparring match. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you and we’ll take it slow.”

Satoru stands to the side, observing with a keen eye. “Remember, Yuta, focus on channeling Rika’s energy into the blade. It will strengthen your strikes.”

Yuta nods, his grip tightening on the katana. We begin to spar, my ink katana clashing against his blade. I move with agility, testing his reflexes and reactions.

“Good, Yuta! Keep your stance firm!” I instruct, dodging one of his strikes and countering with a swift, controlled slash. “Remember to channel Rika’s energy.”

Yuta focuses, and I can see a faint glow emanating from his katana. He swings with more confidence, his strikes becoming sharper and more precise.

“Excellent!” I praise him, blocking his attack and stepping back. “You’re getting the hang of it. Now, try to increase the amount of cursed energy.”

Yuta closes his eyes for a moment, concentrating. When he opens them, the glow intensifies. He lunges forward, his katana infused with more of Rika’s power. Our blades clash, and I can feel the increased strength behind his strikes.

“Impressive,” Satoru comments from the sidelines. “Keep it up, Yuta.”

Though I could feel his strikes becoming more powerful, it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I’m a special grade for a reason, after all.

I smile, pushing back against his blade. “Good, Yuta. Keep focusing on that energy. Let it flow naturally into your strikes.”

Yuta nods, determination in his eyes. He swings again, and I parry, our katanas meeting with a sharp clang. I can sense the raw potential in him, the way he channels Rika’s energy. He’s learning quickly.

“Try to anticipate my moves,” I advise, feinting to the left before sweeping in from the right. Yuta reacts swiftly, blocking my attack and countering with a thrust that nearly catches me off guard.

“Nice reflexes,” I praise him. “But don’t just react. Take the initiative. Control the flow of the fight.”

Yuta takes a deep breath, his grip firm on the katana. He steps forward, pressing the attack. His movements are more confident, and his strikes more precise. I can see him growing into his potential, bit by bit.

“Great progress,” Satoru says, his tone approving. “But remember, Yuta, power isn’t everything. Strategy and control are just as important.”

I nod in agreement, deflecting a particularly strong strike from Yuta. “Exactly. Keep a clear head and stay focused. You’re doing really well.”

We continue sparring, the sound of our blades ringing through the air. Each clash is a test of Yuta’s growing skills, and he meets every challenge with determination. I push him hard, but not beyond his limits, always ready to step in if necessary.

Finally, after a series of intense exchanges, I step back, lowering my katana. “That’s enough for today. You’ve made excellent progress, Yuta. You and Maki can train together, she’s excellent when it comes to combat, I think you two will become great friends.”

Over the past couple of months, I watched Yuta grow stronger and more confident in himself. As I anticipated, he also grew closer to Maki. She seemed much happier having a sparring partner who could match her intensity. Satoru and I observed the two sparring together, their movements fluid and precise.

As we continued watching, their sparring session came to an end. Yuta and Maki exchanged a few words, both of them grinning despite their exhaustion.

“Looks like we’ve got a strong duo here,” Satoru remarked, turning to me. “But we’ve got to talk to Toge about his upcoming mission.”

I nodded, and together we made our way towards Toge, who was observing the training from a distance. As we approached, he looked up, his expression curious.

“Toge, you’ve been requested for a curse that you’re perfect for.” Satoru tells him. “Shouldn’t take you too long to exorcize it.”

Toge nods. “Salmon.”

“Requested?” Yuta asks, curious.  

“Toge is the only grade two sorcerer among us first years,” Panda explains. “He’s allowed to take on missions all on his own.”

“Wow that’s amazing,” Yuta says, clearly impressed. 

“Your grade is higher than his,” Maki mutters from behind. 

“Yuta, why don’t you go along, too?” Satoru suggests. “You’ll be Toge’s support.”

“Huh? You want me to support him?” Yuta asks. 

“Well, you’ll be more like an observer really.” I explain. “There’s a wide variety of jujutsu, so you can assume there are as many ways to exorcize a curse as there are sorcerers. Toge’s cursed speech is a good example of one way.  Make sure to learn from him.”

Yuta tilted his head in confusion. “Cursed speech?”

“As the term suggests, it’s imbuing speech with curses. It’ll make sense once you see him in action.” I assure him.

Satoru and I brought the kids to the meeting point where they would meet Ijichi, who would oversee their mission. We couldn’t stay this time as we had other matters to attend to.

“Yuta one more thing!” I called out to him. Yuta walked over to meet us. “Sorry, but we don’t have time to supervise this mission. But this is a job Toge can typically handle on his own. So no need to worry.”

“There’s only one thing you need to be careful of,” Satoru explained. “Don’t let Rika out. There’s no guarantee she’ll go back in like she did last time. Only use the portion of Rika’s power that you can imbue in your sword.”

Yuta gulped anxiously.

“Do you know what will happen if you let her out again?” Satoru asked him.

“No, what happens?” Yuta asked, eyes wide with concern.

Satoru then crossed his hand across his neck, indicating that Yuta would die. “You, me, and (Y/n), dead as a doornail. I’m counting on you!”

Yuta looked at us horrified, and I sighed at Satoru’s casualness. “Don’t scare him too much,” I said, giving Satoru a light smack on the arm. “You’ll do fine, Yuta. Trust yourself and remember what you’ve learned.”

The boys ran into some trouble with their mission. Both were fine, but they encountered a cursed spirit more challenging than expected. Akari was giving Satoru and me a rundown of the investigation of the area since the cursed spirit they ran into wasn’t initially what they saw here.

“After scouring every inch of the Hapina Shopping District, I found three different types of residuals,” Akari explained. “Mr. Ijichi doesn’t think it’s likely we're going to find anything more than that if we keep looking.”

“Okay, thanks, Akari, excellent report,” I said, appreciating her diligence.

Satoru and I walked into the shopping district, where an officer lifted the caution tape at the entrance, allowing us to duck underneath it and step inside. As we moved forward, Satoru suddenly stopped and sniffed the air, pausing with a bemused expression.

I chuckled in disbelief, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "You’re kidding," I said, still not believing it, even though I could smell it too.

"No, I’m not," Satoru replied seriously, and I sighed in response.

“I know, I smell it too,” I said, rubbing my temples in annoyance. “Fucking Suguru.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the area. "It’s definitely his handiwork. That lingering cursed energy is unmistakable."

[deersalad]

I Mean I'm Sick of Meaning, I Just Wanna Hold You

Tags: F/F, Mariner/T'Lyn, Mari'lyn, Fluff, Friendship, Star Trek, Lower Decks, Kinda Canon compliant, T4T Summary: What's a Vulcan to do with these feelings? Well T'Lyn is about to find out and Mariner is going to be very integral to this journey of self-discovery and deviation from Vulcan norms. "My objective was to be comedic and arouse you sexually, I believe I have succeeded on both counts." Mariner was trying to tamp down her laughter as T’Lyn’s monotone voice hit her like a wave breaking on rocks. She couldn't believe what she was hearing from T'Lyn, who was situated on the couch with her legs crossed in those black regulation star fleet pants - god how does she pull them off so well? But she focused her mind back on the situation at hand, T'Lyn had called her here because of a "peculiar situation" and Mariner could tell that she was acting unusual, she wasn’t meeting her eyes and kept tracing a seam in those form-fitting pants- god she needs to gets her mind of the gutter her friend could be in danger.

"Woah woah wait, is this like pon farr? God wow I've always been curious! But like not in a weird way! I just heard about when it happened to Spock and you know there's those rumors about him and Kirk and I mean back on Earth the humans who repress themselves the most tend to be the freakiest and oh my god I am going to shut up." Mariner closed her mouth and yet her eyes communicated more than enough as they quickly flashed a look from T'Lyn's eyes to her curves that were hugged by that Andorian-blue science officer shirt. She briefly thought of Jenifer but pushed that thought to the side, it wouldn't serve her here, this was an entirely different beast and she had to focus on helping her friend. Mariner mentally decided that the shirt was closer to warp core-blue anyways as T'Lyn began to speak and move imperceptibly closer to her on the couch in her room. 

"Well, not exactly. As it seems you are aware, pon farr occurs roughly every 8 years for a Vulcan of sexual maturity, and the symptoms can be quite debilitating and even fatal if not handled. But it is not yet time for my next cycle and I do not feel the regular effects… instead I am experiencing something pon farr-like." T'Lyn's eyes moved the smallest degree downwards and to the right to look at Mariner, who didn't notice. 

"Uh huh and you want me to take you to sick bay in case something happens or whatevs? Or like, do you want me to go on a daring adventure with you to find a hot Vulcan doctor who can diagnose you and or help you if this is pon farr?"

"Well, when I invited you here to my room I was not quite certain why I reached the conclusion that it would be most beneficial to call on your aid but now I… I believe I understand the logic I was operating on." T'Lyn again moved a quarter millimeter closer to Mariner who had a visible look of confusion. "Woah like did your Vulcan mind powers detect something special in me that you need?" Mariner said with a wry smile and small laugh before it was cut short by T'Lyn reaching her hand over and touching the very tips of her fingers for a moment. "Well, you are not wholly incorrect," she paused as a shudder passed through her from the hand to hand contact, "I do not believe this is related to my Vulcan nature but is rather a consequence or perhaps comorbidity of my heightened emotions and spontaneity.” T’Lyn placed both her hands in her lap in a futile attempt to stop her from yet again acting so impulsively. 

Mariner’s look of confusion was now tinged with worry as she looked on her friend who was clearly fighting some kind of inner turmoil, “hey sorry if my joke was off-color I know this is probably stressing you out and stuff, I can grab T’ana and bring her here if you’re worried about being around the other crew,” Mariner began to stand before being interrupted suddenly.

“No.” T’Lyn still wasn’t looking at Mariner as she let out that singular word that hung in the air.

Mariner waited for a followup and when she received none she decided to venture forth, “hey girl, are you like infected by a parasite or mind virus or something, you’ve just… look I noticed you touching my hand and even I know enough about Vulcans to know that’s way out of character. Usually you’re down to go to sickbay just to see all the weird places people get stabbed so you can record it or whatever, I remember you typing up a storm on Orion whenever someone, usually me, got impaled one way or another. Sorry, god, my mind’s all over the place and wait is this like that one time with the Betazoids? Do I need to give you a pep talk?”

T’Lyn gave a solemn shake of her head, “No, I have no reason to believe that my current status would be affecting your or anyone else’s emotional state. I can logically see why you would consider my behavior odd, the hand touch was an impulsive movement and I do apologize.” Mariner could not believe that she was still dodging around what was going on and why was she so feeling so fucking worked up? She wasn’t thinking straight, “Hey do you want me to get Boims? He knows everything about niche alien conditions, I can also grab Rutherford or Tendi, both of them are way smarter than me and frankly I still don’t see what logic brought you to asking me for help,” she let out a nervous laugh at the self-deprecation, what the fuck was this feeling? WHY WAS SHE THINKING SO MUCH ABOUT JENNIFER?

“No to both counts, I understand I am being vague and not sharing my lines of reasoning and for this I do apologize, I am just experiencing something I do not fully have the words for. I requested your help specifically and I know it was the correct decision. These past few days you have continuously been coming to mind in unrelated circumstances and thoughts, this initially troubled me as I was worried that I may have been psychically projecting onto you. But I had Dr. T’ana run a series of medical diagnostics and there were no abnormalities. Still I requested a copy of the scans she performed, particularly of my brain.” She paused as she felt her hands fighting her to reach out to Mariner, who was still standing. 

“Yeah ok all that makes sense and wow you and Tendi really have got to talk about medical shit sometime, but if all the scans were normal then what’s up?” Mariner was still confused and sat on the small coffee table across from T’Lyn, falling flat on her back as her legs hung over the side. She was feeling weird whenever she looked at T’Lyn and that certainly wasn’t helping the situation. 

“Well I pored over the documents and images and I could not find anything indicating illness, possession, psychic interference, strange energies, or any other possible source of imbalance. But I started to look at the areas of neural activity on the scan and the part that would be analogous to your hypothalamus was experiencing higher than usual levels of activation but not to such an extent as to alert the doctor…” T’Lyn said this in a way that made Mariner feel stupid for missing something. “And…?”

T’Lyn took a moment to respond, her hands were visibly shaking and Mariner was afraid she was about to cry, "and… well the hypothalamus is one of the oldest parts of the human brain in terms of evolutionary development and is integral to some of the most basic and instinctual parts of your psychology and biology. For us Vulcans it is much the same.” Again she paused completely, and at Mariner’s continued look of confusion and concern she decided to push onwards,  “Well, its function is to maintain the homeostasis of the human body via influence of hormones and the nervous system, it regulates many drives, including sleep, hunger, thirst-” 

God she was so fucking cute when she went on and on about all the things she knew but Mariner could tell she was stalling and she knew even the tiniest bit of time wasted could mean all the difference between life and death, “hey I’m sorry to interrupt but I have gotta get you moving along, I can tell you’re stalling and if you’re about to reveal to me that you’re going to explode, or liquefy, or turn into a slime in 5 hours or something then I would rather know that sooner than later, so what’s your hypowhatever got to do with this?” God she sounded like her mom, she didn’t want to be stern but she cared a lot about T’Lyn, she was a good friend and Mariner didn’t want anything to happen to her.

“That is what I was about to get to, in Vulcans our analogous section of the brain carries many of the same function but it also works to regulate pon farr, it operates much the same way as the hypothalamus regulating sexual drives but in a much more drastic manner that affects the totality of Vulcan biology. After looking at everything I determined that I seemingly experiencing an activation that is not on the scale of pon farr but is somehow related. I believe this is the reason for my strange and illogical thoughts and behavior and I feel that you may have a solution.” T’Lyn let her shoulders slouch the tiniest bit after getting all this out, as if she were relaxing after an intense exercise.

Mariner instantly shot up into a sitting position and looked at T'Lyn, “oh my god, T’Lyn, you’re not going to die, you’re just horny.” P.S.: So my partner and I watched the new episodes of season 4 and I made a one off joke that's the starting line of this fic and somehow that morphed into the both of us full on writing so here you go: All you Mari'lyn enjoyers I guess can eat up or whatever. I don't have an AO3 account but whenever I make one I'll upload this on there, this was actually a pretty fun writing exercise.

[timeless-fanfic]

I have a request😊

Y/n dresses up really pretty in front of Andrew for the first time + his reaction and thoughts

A New Light in His Eyes

Word Count: 1365

Andrew x Reader

The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the small village, its warmth lingering as the evening began to settle in. You stood in front of a small mirror, adjusting the edges of your tunic with nervous fingers. It wasn’t often that you cared this much about your appearance—there was work to be done, and no one to impress most days. But tonight was different. Tonight, Andrew would be there.

You’d spent the past few weeks getting to know him better, seeing him in those fleeting moments between his duties as one of Jesus’s disciples. There was something about him that had slowly captured your attention—the way he always looked out for others, his quiet strength, the kindness in his eyes when he spoke to you. Tonight, you wanted to look special for him, to see if maybe, just maybe, he would notice you the way you’d begun to notice him.

You smoothed down the soft fabric of your dress, its colors richer than your usual attire. Your hair, normally left loose, had been gently braided, with a few strands framing your face. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was enough to make you feel different, more vulnerable. Your heart beat a little faster as you thought about seeing Andrew.

When you arrived at the gathering, Andrew was already there, talking with Peter and a few of the others. His face was animated, a bright smile lighting up his features as they joked with one another. For a moment, you simply stood at a distance, watching him. It was rare to see him so carefree, and it warmed your heart to see him laugh like that.

Then, almost as if sensing your presence, Andrew’s eyes found you in the crowd. The moment he saw you, his laughter died on his lips, replaced by something you couldn’t quite name. His gaze lingered on you—on the way your dress flowed with the breeze, the way your hair framed your face in a way he’d never seen before. His heart skipped a beat.

He tried to speak but stumbled over his words, suddenly feeling foolish as if the world had shifted under his feet. He had seen you countless times before, but tonight... tonight you were different. Beautiful in a way that caught him completely off guard. He had to stop himself from staring, his breath shallow as he tried to collect his thoughts.

Peter, noticing Andrew’s sudden silence, turned his head to follow his brother's gaze. “Andrew?” Peter’s tone was playful, eyebrow raised as he observed his brother’s unusual distraction. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Andrew blinked, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you just long enough to give Peter a sheepish smile. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though his heart was anything but. The heat crept up his neck and into his cheeks as he fumbled with his words.

Peter squinted at him, clearly unconvinced. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice in a teasing manner. “Fine, huh?” he prodded, his eyes darting toward you again. “Is that what fine looks like? Because it seems to me like you’re staring pretty hard at something—or rather, someone.”

Andrew swallowed hard, suddenly feeling exposed under his brother’s scrutiny. “I’m just...,” he stammered, glancing back at you before quickly looking away again. “It’s nothing.”

Peter let out a soft chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, sure. Nothing. That’s why you’ve been completely out of the conversation for the past five minutes. Should I call her over? Maybe you’ll be able to talk like a normal person when she’s standing next to you.”

Andrew shot him a warning look, his face flushing even deeper. “Peter, don’t you dare,” he muttered, though there was no hiding the nervousness in his voice.

“Oh, relax,” Peter grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “I’m not going to embarrass you in front of her... yet. But seriously, you might want to fix that face of yours. You’re staring at her like you’ve never seen a woman before.”

Andrew couldn’t help the exasperated sigh that escaped him. “I’m not... it’s just... she looks... different tonight.”

Peter’s grin widened, sensing an opportunity. “Different, huh? Different as in ‘you’re falling for her,’ or different as in ‘you finally realized she’s not just another person in the crowd?’” He nudged Andrew lightly with his elbow, his voice dripping with amusement. “Come on, admit it. You’re taken by her.”

Andrew looked away, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying anything incriminating. “It’s not like that,” he mumbled, though even he knew how unconvincing he sounded. His eyes found their way back to you, watching as you moved gracefully through the gathering, your smile lighting up the faces of those you spoke with.

Peter followed his gaze once more, letting out a soft laugh. “Right. Not like that,” he repeated sarcastically. “Brother, you’re a terrible liar. Just go talk to her already before you make things even more awkward for yourself.”

Before Andrew could protest, you began walking toward him, offering a shy smile as you approached. “Good evening,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of nervousness.

Andrew swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as you stood in front of him. “Good evening,” he managed to reply, though his voice was quieter than usual. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the rest of the world fading into the background.

You shifted slightly, unsure of how to interpret his silence. “Is everything alright?” you asked, glancing down at your dress as if wondering if something was wrong.

Andrew shook his head quickly, finally finding his voice. “You look... beautiful,” he blurted out, the words spilling from his lips before he could stop them. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he didn’t regret saying it. He meant every word.

Your heart fluttered at his compliment, warmth spreading through your chest. “Thank you,” you murmured, feeling your face heat up under his intense gaze.

Peter, who had been watching the entire exchange, struggled to contain his laughter. He leaned toward Andrew, barely keeping his voice low. “Well, that was smooth,” he teased, though there was no malice in his tone. “Seriously, Andrew, you’re about as subtle as a rock.”

Andrew shot him a glare, but his expression softened when he glanced back at you. “Ignore him,” Andrew said quietly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I meant what I said.”

For the rest of the evening, Andrew found it impossible to focus on anything else. Every time you moved, his eyes followed. Every time you laughed, his heart leapt. He was obsessed—utterly captivated by the sight of you, by the way you carried yourself with grace, by the soft smile you gave him when you caught him staring.

Peter, of course, didn’t let him off the hook so easily. Throughout the night, he kept throwing Andrew knowing glances, nudging him every time he caught him gazing at you. “You’re hopeless,” Peter whispered at one point, smirking as Andrew tried—and failed—to act nonchalant.

Despite Peter’s relentless teasing, Andrew couldn’t help the way his heart swelled every time you looked his way. He had always thought of you as kind, gentle, someone he enjoyed being around. But now, seeing you like this, dressed in a way that brought out a beauty he hadn’t fully realized before, he found himself drawn to you in ways he hadn’t expected. There was a pull between you that he couldn’t ignore, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Peter caught Andrew staring again and leaned in one last time. “You know,” he whispered conspiratorially, “if you don’t do something about this soon, you might lose your chance. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Andrew sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “I know.”

But for now, all he could do was watch, his heart thudding in his chest as he wondered how—when—the moment would finally come for him to tell you just how much you meant to him.

[blainesebastian]

birthday (ccg universe)

words: 1,683 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @whoreforbrownies): “luci and austin bake and decorate a cake for ccg's birthday” warnings: none notes: gonna re-open my requests but please be patient with me. i hope ya’ll know i give so much to requests and sometimes i feel overwhelmed. i know waiting is sometimes hard, but i try to put so much into asks and make it worth it! please visit my ‘requests i’m working on page’ for updates. and feel free to leave warm messages of encouragement :) xo  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

You've always been a big fan of your birthday—ever since you were little, your parents would make the most effort in celebrating you in a full week. Baking cookies, small trinkets to open up, special breakfasts and dinners, and then of course a big homemade cake with a lot of candles. It's one of your fondest memories of growing up and it's something you couldn't wait to pass on to your own daughter as she got older.

It's not that you wanted to put your own birthday celebrations on the backburner but it's just one of those things that tends to happen when you get caught in the busyness of life. You and Austin are wrapped up passionate projects and raising your daughter. You can't believe how fast time moves anyways, the fact that she's already two and so involved in the world, sponging up anything she can learn. It's pretty incredible to watch.

"She's down for the count." You tell Austin as you wander into your bedroom, your husband stretched out on the mattress. He's flipping through a script as he leans back against some pillows piled against the headboard, setting them down to look over at you. A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth, "Four books tonight."

"Soon we'll be up to ten," He jokes, closing it to set aside on the nightstand.

You hum lightly, moving to crawl into bed next to him. You turn on your side to face him, covering your mouth as a soft yawn leaves your lips, "She's very insistent—or we'll just have to invest in some novels."

He purses his lips, "Sure we could start on Jurassic Park or somethin'."

You let out a soft laugh, "Maybe. She's already naming different dinos out of picture books."

Austin smiles, reaching out to touch your hair. He tucks it behind your ear, fingers trailing down over your shoulder and arm in soft intimacy. There are a few quiet moments shared, just spending time, soaking any time together because sometimes it's far too fleeting. Austin has some time with the script he's just gotten before he has to begin going to table reads, then it's being gone for months at a time. Something you think you're used to until it actually happens.

Austin draws his thumb down your jawline, "Someone's birthday tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows and let out a soft laugh, leaning back a bit until your back is fully on the bed. You look at the ceiling and run a hand through your hair, "Oh man, I completely forgot." Not on purpose, just...so many other things going on. You love that Austin's remembered but you hope he knows he's not obligated to have a whole day planned out for you or anything.

"Luci's been very serious about bakin' you a cake for the past few days."

You turn your head to look at him, your cheeks warming at the sentiment. Luci is one of the sweetest things, must get that from Austin. Honestly, a day spent at home with cake baking and maybe some sort of blanket fort in the living room sounds like a great birthday well spent—though, knowing Jillian there's probably a 'surprise party' in the works.

Reaching out your hand to touch Austin's chest, your fingers play with the collar of his shirt. "You gonna show her how to bake a cake tomorrow? Because that's pretty cute."

He raises his eyebrows, amused, "Oh really?"

You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, speaking against them, "Really."

Austin steals another kiss as you begin to pull away, nipping at your lower lip, "If that's all it takes to get you wound up, m'gonna have to start bakin' a lot more for you."

You can't help but laugh, Austin resting his body over yours. Your legs open up slightly to accommodate his body and you begin to squirm a little as he places kisses along your jawline and cheeks, any spot he can reach. "Stop," You giggle but you definitely don't want him to.

And he doesn't, cupping your cheek to kiss you deeper.

--

It’s not like you wake up especially early to spy on your husband and daughter (not exactly). You actually found yourself sleeping in, not waking up to an alarm, your arm stretching across the sheets for Austin but coming up empty. When you manage to lift your head, you can hear the clanking of bowls and silverware and soft music playing from the kitchen. And you already know that Austin is going to tell Luci they can bring you this cake in bed but…you don’t really want to miss out on seeing them bake it either.

You can be totally crafty, just a few moments (minutes) of observation. Your intention is definitely not to get caught because you’re sure Luci wants it to be a surprise.

It’s clear that both Austin and Luci have been up for a decent amount of time because when you peer into the kitchen and lean against the doorframe (luckily it’s behind where both of them are standing at the island counter, so you think you’re safe) you see that Austin’s set a baked chocolate cake in front of Luci. They’re ready to do icing.

Austin turns towards your daughter who’s standing on this platform that’s the height of a high chair, banisters in place so she doesn’t accidently step off the side. “Alright, how should we decorate it?”

“Dino!” Luci exclaims with a soft clap.

He smirks, shaking his head, “You wanna decorate it with a dino theme? What makes you think mama will like that?”

Luci grins this large toothy smile that’s so cheesy that it makes your heart swell—it’s literally one of your most favorite things that she does. “Cause I like dinos.”

Austin laughs, reaching into a nearby cabinet to grab a few things to make an icing, especially green food coloring, “Well, can’t argue with that logic.” He then opens up a drawer, “What kind of sprinkles?” He picks her up into his arms, holding her over the drawer so she can point and reach.

There’s leftover dino sprinkles from cupcakes they made Luci for her second birthday, so she selects those (of course) and, “Heart sprinples!”

“Heart sprinkles are such a good choice,” Austin approves, picking up that bottle to set on the counter, “Cause we love momma a lot, right?”

“Yeah.” Luci agrees and you swear you feel your heart beat right into your throat.

Austin presses a kiss to her temple and sets her down back on the platform, making sure she’s secure and settled before beginning to mix the icing together (with a lot of Luci’s help, obviously). You’re certain that this cake and icing are going to taste extra surgery but, that’s how you know it was made with a lot of love.

You pull away from the kitchen to walk back towards the bedroom once they start decorating the cake, not wanting to get caught. You move into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, turning to look over your shoulder as Austin knocks and slips into the space ten minutes later. You look at him through the mirror as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

He smells like a bakery mixed with his own familiar scent. You smile, leaning back into him, closing your eyes and breathing him in as he presses a few kisses to your shoulder.

“How long were you watchin’?”

You purse your lips, fixing your gaze on him, “No idea what you’re talking about, I just woke up.”

Austin lets out a soft laugh which is mostly air leaving his nose, “Mhm, right. I hate to break it to you but you are not stealthy.”

“Is that anything to say to your wife on her birthday?” You tease, tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

He smiles, turning your body until your facing him, your arms moving to rest on his shoulders. He hums lightly, nuzzling your noses together before he playfully nips at your lower lip,

“You’re right, happy birthday.” Austin cups both sides of your face, pulling you in a kiss, gently pressing your back into the sink. He smiles against your mouth, running his thumb along your jawline, “And you’re not stealthy.”

You laugh, playfully pushing on his chest to get him to back up so you can walk out of the bathroom together. Austin insists on covering your eyes with his hands as you get towards the kitchen. You grin, leaning back against his chest and holding onto his wrists for balance as you walk,

“Mommmeee!” Luci squeals in excitement and you feel a solid, warm weight hit the bottom of your legs. You chuckle, reaching down to brush your hand through her hair.

“Morning—I smell something sweet.”

“Yep, Luc you wanna tell mom what we made for her?” Austin asks as he removes his hands.

“Cake!” Luci exclaims and you gasp at the messily decorated cake. There’s green icing everywhere (all over the cake but mostly staining Luci’s hands and cheeks), and then a spattering of the sprinkles you saw them both pick out. Honestly, it’s one of the best things you’ve ever seen.

“Oh my gosh!” You grin, picking her up into your arms as you approach the counter, “Is this…is this dino themed?” You ask, tickling her side. “This is great, because you know who my favorite dino is? You.”

Luci giggles and squirms as Austin pops some candles into the cake and lights them before she hugs you tightly around your neck. You press a few kisses into her shoulder, squeezing her gently,

“Alright, blow out the candles.” Austin smiles.

“Make a wish!” Your daughter insists, clapping her hands together.

You smirk, curling her hair around her ear before glancing at your husband. He leans over the corner of the counter and presses a kiss to your temple.

How could you possibly wish for anything? You’ve got everything you need right here.