#like “I'm big brain like I'm teaching him a lesson”

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Chapter 5: Hold Me Close In Winter's Weather

Winters in Connecticut are harsh. Even more so when your favorite pair of leather gloves gets a tear in one of the sides and you're forced to stop wearing them. Which was fine enough during the autumn months, and even over Christmas — with all the camping trips Raine and Eda took them on to the top of the Knee, Hunter is plenty used to the cold by now. 

But now they're back for spring semester and winter is in full swing, bringing with it the first big snowstorm of the season, threatening to drop the temperature below freezing and bury their little college town in a blanket of ice and snow overnight. So, Hunter is left with two options: either come up with the money to buy a replacement pair of his father's old gloves, or try to figure out how to repair them.

He's sitting on the living room couch with a cheap little sewing kit he'd picked up earlier when he'd gone out for snow day supplies, tongue stuck between his teeth in between colorful curses as he tries and fails to darn his gloves, when Willow walks through the front door carrying two to-go cups with their favorite Robin's Roast orders — medicine ball tea and a slice of lemon loaf for her, cold brew coffee and a chocolate chip cookie for him — tilts her head to the side and says, "Not that you're not doing a marvelous job, but would you like me to do that for you?"

Hunter perks up, ready to give her a look for her cheekiness, when he sees the snowflake-bedecked coffee cup and snack bag in her outstretched hand, and a wide smile curls across his face instead.

"Oh, you absolute angel," he tells her, drinking greedily from the coffee cup, letting the warmth of it breathe some life back into his freezing fingertips. Willow chokes on a sip of honey-kissed mint and peach, snorting with laughter as she watches him pry the lid off of his cup a moment later, dunk his chocolate chip cookie into his coffee, and shove the whole thing into his mouth.

"You are the very picture of grace," she teases, but the smile on her face couldn't be more adoring. 

"Here, let me see those," she adds, holding out her hands for the mess of sewing supplies scattered across Hunter's lap.

"Listen, that's the right way to eat a cookie, everyone else is just doing it wrong," Hunter argues around a muffled mouthful of chocolate chips, cheeks puffed to chipmunk maximum. He swallows, and Willow's hands twitch with the urge to reach up and swipe that little dot of chocolate out of the corner of his mouth (or ask for a taste.)

"And actually, I was thinking…could you teach me?" he asks, tongue darting out to lick away the last of the chocolate, and—

Okay seriously, stop thinking about kissing him, he's—

Staring at you.

Uh oh.

You didn't say that out loud, did you?

No, no. It's fine. He just asked you a question.

And now he's waiting for your answer.

Shit.

Okay. This is salvageable. Just remember what he said.

Rewind and remember.

He was eating his cookie (very very gracefully, with the manners of a regency-era prince, of course) and he got chocolate all over his lips, when—

Hmm. His lips.

They're so cute. And pink. And soft-looking.

I'll bet they taste like chocolate and coffee, so soft—

Oh my god, you useless sack of neurons.

It takes Willow a full twenty seconds to reboot her bluescreened brain, shaking her head to rattle all the thoughts out of it and zero her focus back on her roommate.

"I'm sorry. I was, uh…thinking about a test I've got tomorrow," she bullshits, remembering only after she's said it that oh right, there's a massive snowstorm coming and all of their classes have already been cancelled. "Could you repeat that?"

"Sure," he chuckles, smiling at her like he finds her utterly endearing, and Willow's face heats about ten more degrees. 

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind giving me a sewing lesson? You've been such an amazing teacher, showing me how to cook and bake these past few months, and you're pretty much an expert crafter, so if I'm going to learn from anyone, I want it to be you," he says, leaning his head back to nuzzle against the plush handmade quilt draped across the back of the couch, decorated with a menagerie of bees, birds, and butterflies that feel like they've just taken flight in Willow's stomach. 

"So, what do you say, Captain?" he asks, fixing her with a smile that makes her feel like he's just tipped the contents of her tea cup straight into her chest. "Will you teach me?"

"Oh, um…yeah! Abs— absolutely," she replies, all a fluster, whole face lit up in a beaming smile as she leaps to her feet and rushes off to her bedroom to grab her (far, far superior) sewing supplies.

It'd been hard enough trying to concentrate whenever they worked together in the kitchen, watching the rising steam from bubbling pots and simmering pans turn her hair into a sea of wild, curly cowlicks and fog up the lenses of her glasses, the way she'd tuck a lock of hair that fell loose from one of her braids behind her ear and end up with a streak of flour across her cheek, or god forbid, any time he got too distracted and messed up chopping vegetables, and she'd have to come and stand behind him and place her hands on top of his to guide him through proper chopping techniques, worried he'd lose a finger otherwise.

It's a wonder he'd learned anything at all, really (he attributes it to the fact that she's just that good a teacher.) But this…this is a whole other level of difficulty. They've run through all the basics — how to thread the needle, different types of thread and needle thickness needed for different types of fabric, running stitch, back stitch, whip stitch — and now she's teaching him a technique called an invisible stitch that involves making a series of ladder-like threads back and forth up both sides of the fabric that…somehow leaves you with a hidden seam at the end? Sounds like sorcery to Hunter, but maybe that's just because he's too distracted to pay proper attention. 

Listen, it's not his fault, okay? It's just…she looks so cute when she's concentrating — brows furrowed, nose scrunched, gold-rimmed glasses sliding down to the edge of her button nose, tip of her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth as she works the needle through the thick leather layers. But then she's handing him the partially patched gloves with needle and thread dangling from the side so he can try it out for himself and…shit. Hunter panics, struggling to push the needle through the thickest part of the leather, and ends up stabbing himself in the finger when he tries to pull it through from the sharp end.

"Oh no, you poor thing!" Willow exclaims, jumping up from the couch and rushing back in with a little first aid kit she keeps in their medicine cabinet for just such occasions. A few minutes later, Hunter's cut is all clean and there's a bright yellow bandage plastered with cheerful cartoon bumblebees all over the tip of his pointer finger.

"You wanna keep going?" she asks tentatively, wary of the way Hunter's gaze is fixed to the tiny splotch of red seeping through the gauze on the pad of his finger, distorting the sunny little bumblebee's smiling face, the way his hands tremble ever so slightly as he flexes them, faded pink scars dappled across his knuckles turning white with each clench.

Hunter shakes his head and glances up at her, giving her a fervent nod. It's fine. No big deal. A little pinprick is nothing compared to—

Never mind.

Point is, he's had worse.

"Here, let's try this," she says softly, holding out her hands, half-mended glove with a string of bright red thread dangling from one of them, attached needle carefully held aloft in her other, farther back and deliberately pointed away from him. "How about I guide you through the motions, just like we did in the kitchen?"

Hunter swallows, managing little more than another nod as he reaches across the space between them and slowly slips his hands into hers, and just like every time she'd teach him how to wield a paring knife, Willow's heart leaps into her throat.

His hands are so much softer than she'd imagined, so much bigger than her own, giddy pulse matching hers beat for beat as they press their palms together, nimble fingers meeting the pad of his thumb with ease as they curl across the back of her hand. Willow gets lost in the feeling of it, quite forgetting what she was supposed to be teaching him, fingertips tracing little winding rivers of faded pink scars with feather-light touches.

Willow doesn't know all the details about what Hunter's life was like before the Clawthornes took him in (he doesn't really like to talk about it, and she doesn't want to pry) only that there was a fire, that he lived with his father's brother for a little while after his parents — Caleb and Evelyn, she remembers him telling her once — passed away, and that his uncle was a miserable excuse for a man who turned into a downright monster every time he drank. 

But these scars littered across his knuckles and the palms of his hands…she's pretty sure they're from broken glass…just like the sharp sliver of a scar that curls from the underside of his jawline to the cheekbone just below his right eye. Most of the time, all Willow wants to do whenever she sees them is press her lips to each and every one, cover them in kisses until she's healed him whole. But right now, all she feels is anger, white hot and tempestuous, and all she can think is how Philip Wittebane should be thankful he's already dead.

Hunter's developed something of a sixth sense when it comes to other people's anger, learned to listen for the subtle shift from true composure to softly simmering rage in the lilt of their voice, the wolf-like curl of their upper lip, nostrils flaring like a woken dragon, stony gaze that could freeze over hell as their eyes narrow into slits.

And right now, Hunter can practically feel the anger rolling off of Willow in waves, eyes a bright, livid green as her fingertips smooth over a particularly deep, jagged scar that winds across the lifeline of his palm — a sharp contrast to the way she holds them so gently in her own, the way her lower lip trembles, tears threatening to pool in the corners of her eyes. He's never experienced anger quite like this before.

A burst of affection explodes inside Hunter's chest as he realizes, rather belatedly, that it's on his behalf, that she feels protective of him, angry at the person who hurt him. He reaches out for her instinctively, needing her to be even closer, takes the hand wrapped around his half-mended glove (his father's glove, one of his few prized possessions that survived the fire, that she offered to help him fix) and lifts it to his cheek, knuckles brushing against his lips on their slow ascent, marveling at how soft and small it is compared to his, how right it feels wrapped up in his own.

The world stills, and Hunter exhales on a soft, languid sigh, heady concoction of sunlit serenity and dizzying adrenaline thrumming in his veins as he gazes at her, allowing himself this brazen, stolen moment to look without shame, without worrying whether he'll give himself away, bashful blushing be damned.

There's a soft intake of breath, and then Willow is glancing up at him, dulcet smile spreading across her lips like he's the sunrise on her favorite day, bright green eyes filled with something Hunter lets himself hope is the start of what he's been feeling for her all these years. She's brilliant and beautiful and clever and kind, hard-earned strength wrapped in softened edges, a living reminder that there's still good in the world, and Hunter knows he doesn't deserve her…but maybe, just for this moment, he can let himself have this anyway.

• • •

She's done so much for him lately, Hunter just wants to do something nice for her in return. Even if it's something as simple as brewing her a cup of her favorite tea. He knows she'll be home any minute, and that her usual Robin's Roast order is a medicine ball, but money is a little tight right now, and they haven't really been able to afford any extras, so while he was out at the store earlier, he'd picked up some lemons, honey, and mint and peach tea in an attempt to surprise her with his own homemade version.

He's reasonably certain he got all the right flavors, ingredients and measuring cups lined up across the countertop like little toy soldiers in pristine formation. But he's also utterly exhausted from all the extra work he's been covering, pulling graveyard shifts at the library nearly every night for the past two weeks, so when he goes to grab the glasses poured fresh from the kettle, he forgets they're piping hot (not to mention the fact that you're not supposed to put boiling water in glass) and drops them on instinct, glass shattering like a gunshot as dozens of jagged little shards explode around his bare feet and scatter across the kitchen floor.

Hunter freezes, a kind of fear he hasn't felt in over a decade enveloping him like a sudden drop through a crack in a frozen lake, settling like slivers of ice between his ribs. He blinks, and all at once, he's back in his uncle's kitchen, cowering in the corner as an empty bottle of whiskey cracks on the countertop above his head, a shower of glass spilling into his hair like freezing rain.

His stomach twists, nausea clinging citrus-sharp in the back of his throat, sending sickening spider-legged prickles crawling up the back of his neck. Muscle memory drops him to his hands and knees, where he begins frantically trying to pick up the pieces, terrified of a blow that'll never come — another liquor bottle, perhaps; or if he's very unlucky, a grown man's fist. 

His heart is a wild animal beating against the bars of its cage, desperate to claw its way out before the big bad beast comes to snap its jaws and bear its teeth, thundering so hard it shakes his whole frame, fingers trembling around each serrated fragment. 

Tears burn in the corners of his eyes, traitorous and unrelenting, blurring his vision as they fall, making it that much easier to miss the little slivers that slide like needles under his skin, spilling his blood just to spite him and make the mess he's got to clean up even worse. 

He has to fix this, has to clean it all up as quickly and efficiently as possible, can't make noise, can't show weakness, or else—

He squeezes his eyes shut against a fresh wave of tears, and all at once, a memory, vivid and visceral, bursts across his mind's eye, his uncle's voice, with its cloying, sinister lilt, clear as if he were standing right behind him.

Is this the thanks I get for taking you in? he'd hiss, upper lip curled in a disgusted scowl. Look at the mess you've made. The least you can do is clean it up.

The way he'd sneer as Hunter crawled across the grimy kitchen floor on his hands and knees, struggling to pick up all the broken pieces with his bare hands, crying out as the dagger-sharp shards left stinging cuts in their wake.

These outbursts are painful, he'd add ruefully, an almost-apology, and then— and so is watching you fail.

The room spins, sunny yellows and forest-dwelling greens at odds with the murky grays and tarnished golds from his memory, and Hunter forgets how to breathe. He's sinking, falling, down, down, down to depths of that frozen lake, certain he's going to drown this time, when out of nowhere, warmth like a fireside in the shape of two strong, gentle hands settles on either side of his shoulders, pulling him back to the surface.

Hunter gasps, exhaling on a shuddering breath, gaze softening on a pair of pale green eyes that make him think of matcha tea and lucky clovers, brows above their golden frames furrowed in concern. For a moment, Hunter's mind goes blissfully blank, and all he can think is how badly he wants to reach up and smooth those worried little creases away. 

He reaches up to do just that, catching sight of the blood pooling in the lifelines of his palms — bright as a cardinal's wings, deep as the embers at the heart of a wildfire — and sucks in a sharp, dizzying breath.

"Hey, I've got you. You're safe," comes a soft, soothing voice — his favorite sound in the whole world. Soft hands come up to gently cup his face, keeping his eyes trained on her, holding his head above water.

"Breathe with me," she tells him, one hand carefully cradling his jaw, thumb stroking a soothing half-moon trail over the scar across his cheekbone, the other held out in front of him, slowly putting down each finger as she counts. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.

With each steadying breath, the world slows back down to its gentle revolution, cheerful yellows and woodland greens of his home — their home — coming back into focus, until all he can feel are five soft fingertips and one plush palm pressed against the side of his face, the hands of a person who's only ever used them to grow gardens from seedlings and craft beautiful things from thread and wool.

Hunter exhales on a long, shuddering breath, survival instinct paired with the weight of his exhaustion tugging him forward until he's collapsing into her, shoulders shaking with violent sobs as he buries his face into her chest, seeking out the steady beat of her heart to keep him grounded.

Later, when his mind stills long enough to make room for other emotions like shame and guilt, he'll regret leaving bloodied handprints all over her favorite sweater, desperately clinging, clutching handfuls of soft, cozy, knitted fabric as he struggles to pull her close, but for right now, he's running on survival mode, and all he knows is the need to hold home and safety as close as possible, bury himself in her warmth and wait for the storm to pass.

Hours — or maybe just minutes later, he's not entirely sure — Willow helps him to his feet and walks him to the bathroom, knelt down in front of him while he sits on the edge of the toilet seat, taking care to touch him as softly as she can while she washes all the blood off his hands and scans his skin for rogue slivers, telling him to look away so he doesn't have to witness the worst of it. 

Hunter opts to stare at her instead, busying himself with his favorite task of counting all the freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose like a dusting of brown sugar cinnamon, coming up with names for constellations in his very own private star chart.

Hands wrapped up in a thick layer of gauze, Willow walks him back into the living room and settles him in on the couch, handmade quilt heavy enough to anchor him like a weighted blanket draped across his shoulders. 

She makes quick work of cleaning up all the glass, returning moments later with a cup of tea for him in her favorite mug — the one with the photo of him, her, Luz, and Gus that time her dads took them all to Winterberry Gardens for her sixteenth birthday, the caption Frond Memories written underneath it in flowering vines — made from a medley of dried fruit and edible flowers she'd grown herself (because of course she grows her own tea leaves, and of course it tastes like magic in a cup.)

Hunter accepts it with a wordless thank you, soaking up its warmth through a thick layer of leather slipped on to protect his freshly-bandaged hands, thumb tracing over the little red cardinal Willow had offered to embroider to cover up the seam the night she'd helped him mend them. She settles into the space beside him, quietly sipping her own mug of tea as she waits in patient silence for him to finish drinking his, and then, without uttering a single word, opens her arms in invitation.

Hunter lets out a sigh of relief, nearly kicking over his empty mug as he rushes to join her, head settling in the cozy crook of her shoulder, melting into a world of warmth and comfort that could rival a yuletide fireside. Within minutes he's fast asleep, hands draped gingerly across her waist, curled into the soft fabric of the camisole she'd worn underneath her sweater, Willow struggling to stifle her giggles as slow steady puffs of warm breath tickle her neck.

But she wouldn't trade places with anyone for anything in the world, content to sit there bundled up in their cozy quilted blanket fort, gently carding her fingers through a sea of wild, fluffy blond hair as she hums a tuneless lullaby, gazing down at this boy she loves more than she could ever put into words, knowing she would raise hell to protect him, promising herself that if anyone or anything ever tried to hurt him again, she would make sure they felt the sting of defeat.

Oh, and if Uncle Pip were still alive, she would absolutely punch him right through the face. And yes, she means through the face.

• • •

Willow gets hit hard during flu season, and Hunter is determined to take care of her, insisting she stay in bed and allow him to dote on her. After three days of arguing that she's fine (complete with a contradictory congested d at the end) and getting sent home early from work for sneezing half the petals off a window display of sunflowers, Willow finally lets him, spending the evening soaking in a nice hot bubble bath courtesy of her lovely roommate, and tucking herself into bed before the sun even goes down.

She's all settled in, dressed in a pair of her coziest pajamas, when she hears a familiar three-beat knock at her bedroom door, delicate and polite as a church mouse.

"Come in!" she croaks, wincing at how raspy and squeaky she sounds.

There's a soft clink of ceramic from the other side as the doorknob turns, and in walks Hunter looking the very picture of domestic fluff — steaming mug of homemade medicine ball tea in one hand, hearty bowl of soup in the other, worn hardcover book slipping from where it's tucked underneath his arm.

He's dressed in a pair of watermelon print pajama pants she's pretty sure he's had for as long as she's known him, a wrinkled dark purple t-shirt with the words Bad Girl Coven written across the front in bold lettering (a relic from back when Eda got big into silkscreening) stretched to maximum across his torso. (Willow's willing to bet dollars to donuts that he's got one for Raine's band, Bards Against The Throne, stashed away in one of his drawers, too.)

His hair is delightfully disheveled, a sea of wild, fluffy cowlicks that makes it looks like he's just woken up from a nap, even though she knows he's been rushing around all afternoon, picking up cough drops and tissues and her favorite jasmine scented bath bombs, chopping carrots and celery and seasoning broth for the perfect replication of Papa Park's famous cold-busting chicken noodle soup.

And maybe the fever is making her a little extra bold, because the words you look so cute escape past all her usual filters and fall right out of her mouth the moment he sets the bowl on her bedside table, soup sloshing down the sides as Hunter freezes like a glitch in software, blinking a few times as he waits for his brain to process what she's just said, resisting the urge to glance around the room to make sure she wasn't somehow addressing someone else.

"Th— um. Thank you," he mumbles softly, back turned to her as he reaches for her desk chair, stumbling on a wrinkle in the carpet as he rolls it over to her side of the bed and falls rather than settles into it, full use of his limbs escaping him at the moment.

When he turns back around, the tips of his ears are a bright, burning red, the rest of his blushing face hidden behind the pages of one of her favorite books, first in a series they've been borrowing back and forth from one another since their first year of high school.

"My dad used to read to me whenever I got sick," he tells her in a quiet voice, and warmth like the cozy swirling steam spiraling above her bowl of homemade soup spreads throughout her chest, pocketing that little detail and storing it amongst her ever-growing collection of Hunter Facts like a memory magpie. 

"Raine and Eda started doing it too, after I asked them. So, it's kind of a tradition by now," he adds, starting to look a little sheepish. "But if you'd rather—"

"No, I'd love that," she exclaims, sitting up a little straighter and tucking her chin into the palms of her hand, leaning in close to let him know he has her full attention. "Please read to me, Hunter."

"O-okay," he falters, the top of the book slipping down just enough to reveal the small, self-assured little smile curling across his face as he settles into her desk chair, flips to the first page, and begins.

Our story starts with a lying witch and a warden, the day one seemingly ordinary human changed the history of the Boiling Isles forever, when she followed a thieving owl through a portal into a mystical realm filled with wild magic… 

He spends the next hour reading aloud to her in the hopes that it'll help lull her to sleep, but by the time he gets to chapter two, Willow is more awake than ever, perched at the edge of her bed, gazing at him in raptures. And really, that's his own fault, because he should have known better than to choose the one series that always manages to break their sleep schedules, phone screens lighting up like fireflies with rapid-fire missives after every midnight release, spending half the night texting each other than actually reading.

WILLOW WHAT CHAPTER ARE YOU ON? WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT—

HUNTER OH MY GOD DID YOU GET TO THE PART WHERE—

Showing up to class the next morning with bags under their eyes so heavy they'd have to check them at the airport, dead to the world yet bouncing off the walls, bane of their teacher's existence as they jump up and down and shake each other's shoulders, screaming about the cliffhanger ending.

Only, Hunter isn't exactly practiced in the art of reading aloud, so he stumbles over the words a lot (at least, that's the excuse he gives every time he glances up to find Willow staring at him like he's the main character recalling his own thrilling adventure, the soft golden hue of her bedside lamp reflected in her pale green eyes like a sun shower through a canopy of trees — and just like that, the entirety of the English language falls right out of Hunter's head.)

He's also suddenly brutally aware of how loud and grating his voice sounds to his own ears, mind digging up memories of all the times he had to read aloud in middle school, how all the kids used to tease him about the way the space between his two front teeth made him whistle certain words, how his uncle's "secretary" Kikimora would often find him playing alone in his room, talking to himself, making up stories, and sneer, I thought I recognized that annoying voice.

"Sorry, not the best narrator," Hunter huffs out around a self-effacing laugh, stumbling over a tongue-twister of an alliteration for the third time in a row. "Probably doesn't help that my voice is kind of…annoying," he adds with a grimace.

"What? No, it's not! I love your voice," Willow argues, voice softening to a dreamlike sigh as she says those last four words, and warmth like cocoa on Christmas morning spreads throughout Hunter's chest.

"I'd listen to a whole audiobook of you reading our favorite series," she insists with that heart-skipping smile of hers, and the heat zeroes in on the hollows of Hunter's cheeks, radiating like a first-degree sunburn.

"Hey, what kind of magic do you think I'd have if we lived on The Boiling Isles like in the story?" she asks in that half-awake, semi-delirious wired state of sickness, changing topics before he can fully process the compliment she's just given him.

"Plant magic," Hunter answers automatically (because he's given this a fair bit of thought) fond smile lighting up his eyes as he glances around at the little collection of potted plants lining the ledge of her window, filling up all the free spaces across her desk, dresser, and bookshelf. "You're so good at taking care of them."

Willow hums contentedly, leveling him with a smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes until they're little half-moons.

"I think you'd be a wild witch," she decides after a moment of deliberation. "Good at all kinds of magic."

Hunter can't help but preen just a little bit at that, beaming happily back at her.

"I mean, you've already got healing and potions down," she says, gesturing to the bowl of homemade soup sitting at the edge of her bedside table, so engrossed in Hunter reading to her that she'd completely forgotten to take a bite.

"Well, wait until you actually taste it. My cooking is an abomination compared to yours, after all," he jokes, and Willow laughs so hard she sends herself into a coughing fit. 

Hunter lurches forward on instinct, tossing the book to the foot of the bed and rushing to her side.

"Oh sweetheart, are you okay?" he says without thinking, reaching out to place a gentle hand against the side of her face.

After a generous sip of tea offered by her doting roommate, Willow manages to calm her coughing back down, waving a hand to let him know she's alright. It takes a few moments for her to fully process what he'd just said, to register the newfound source of warmth radiating from the palm of his hand as it hovers just below the curve of her cheek, waiting just in case she needs to be held again, and then—

"Did you just call me sweetheart?" she asks, voice dropping to a hushed whisper, lit up at the edges with something Hunter doesn't dare let himself believe is hope.

"Oh, I'm— I'm sorry, it just kind of slipped out, I didn't—" Hunter splutters, heat prickling up the back of his neck.

"I liked it," Willow giggles, beaming at him with that signature dimpled smile that never fails to make his heart feel like it's going to leap right out of his chest.

"Oh," he says softly, hope bubbling like a boiling tea kettle inside his chest as he shifts his weight a little closer, towering over her as he perches on the edge of her bed. "Okay, then."

Gentle fingertips trace the curve of her cheek with feather-light touches, catching a lock of hair that's come loose from one of her braids and tucking it back behind her ear. Willow lets out a sound like a slow-motion sigh of relief, eyes fluttering closed as she tilts her head ever so slightly, leaning into his touch. When she opens them again, it's to find he's moved even closer, lips barely a breath from hers, gazing at her like she's a sky full of stars after he's spent his whole life living in the city.

"Sweetheart," he whispers, voice like rose petals and candlelight, sending Willow's pulse soaring through the clouds. 

He makes a half-halted movement, lips pulling into a pout like he was just about to lean forward and kiss her, but talked himself out of it at the very last second. Willow lets out the breath she'd been holding, exhaling on a heavy, wistful sigh, mourning the loss of his touch the second he pulls away.

For a moment, Willow worries he's going to leave, that whatever fantasy-fueled almost that very nearly happened between them just now was weird enough to sending him running, but to her relief, Hunter merely settles back into her desk chair, picking up from where he left off with a voice that struggles to stay within his usual octave, face hidden once more behind the pages of their favorite book, so that all she can see is a pair of ears bright enough to rival all the tomatoes in her garden, poking out from a sea of wild, fluffy blond hair.

Willow settles back against her pillows, unfulfilled adrenaline giving way to exhaustion as her heart rate slows back down, letting the sound of her best friend's voice lull her to sleep. No less than ten minutes later, she's sprawled out like a starfish, softly dozing with her cheek pressed against Clover's fuzzy backside.

Hunter glances up at the sound of her grizzly bear snoring, chuckling to himself as he closes the book halfway through chapter three and tucks it under his arm, carefully removing her glasses where they swing precariously from the bridge of her nose and setting them on her bedside table beside her half-sipped cup of tea and (now chilled) bowl of soup.

And if he leans down to press a kiss against the top of her forehead just before he switches off the light and slips out the door, well…she doesn't have to know that that's the reason he ends up sick in bed with the very same flu the following week.

• • •

Winter gives way to spring, and with it comes the freedom to finally open up all the windows, letting in fresh air and natural sunlight again. It's also the time of year when all of Willow's flowering plants start to blossom again, and Hunter is nothing short of enchanted by all the bright colors and heady fragrances of the sweet-smelling lilacs, lilies, hyacinths, honeysuckles, and jasmine, every time he enters their living room.

But with the spring rush of everyone suddenly deciding they want to grow their own gardens or give bouquets of flowers as gifts, Willow has been working longer and later shifts at The Golden Garden, so Hunter has taken it upon himself to care for her plants in her stead, clicky pen stuck between his teeth as he juggles jotting down notes in between poring over passages from Willow's gardening books, even going so far as to come up with a color-coded schedule that lets him know when it's time to water them, or gently rotate their pot to ensure each side gets to spend equal time in the sun.

One such sunny afternoon, Willow comes home exhausted and covered in dirt from the Easter lily Sunday rush, surprised to find Hunter sitting with his chin tucked into the palms of his hands, talking to each one of her plants the same way she's been known to do, complimenting them on how healthy they look and how strong they're growing, asking if they'd like another spritz of the mister or some more plant food.

She watches him for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, smile growing wider the longer she listens, wishing she had her polaroid with her to capture this perfect scene straight out of one of her daydreams. He's in the middle of a lively one-sided conversation, asking one of her succulents how difficult he thinks it would be to bake a cake in its likeness for Willow's birthday, lips poised around the phrase lemon layer cake with vanilla buttercream frosting, that's Willow's favorite, when he turns around and sees her standing there, freezing like a deer in headlights, furious blush creeping into the hollows of his cheeks.

"Whatcha doing?" she asks in a playful tone, cheeks aching from how hard she's smiling.

"Oh, I was just—" he falters, spray bottle in one hand, plant food in the other, a dish towel decorated with cardinals and bumblebees slung over his shoulder, smudge of dirt striped across one of his cheeks. And oh, if she hadn't already been head over heels stupid in love with him for the past five and a half years, this would have been the moment she fell.

"I've been doing some research on plant maintenance," he recovers, spurred by the sight of her beaming smile and the chance to launch into info-dumping mode. "I know you've been working longer hours lately, so I wanted to step up and help you take care of them. And, while I was researching, I came across this study that suggests talking to your plants helps them grow healthier and stronger, because they respond better to positive—"

"Positive reinforcement," Willow finishes, smile dimpling her cheeks to maximum, because this boy might just be the only person she's ever met who finds the same study just as fascinating as she does. "In the same way that pets and people do."

"Yeah!" he exclaims, eyes lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. "I've watched you do it for months now and I never understood why — I just thought it was sweet." His face deepens from a soft rosy pink to a darker hibiscus at this little revelation. "But there's a science to it, and it's really interesting. So, I've been making sure to talk to them, tell them how pretty they look, how nice they smell, compliment them on any new leaves or buds they've sprouted. Like Jasper here — if you look closely, you'll see that another cluster of jasmine flowers have started to blossom near the base of its—"

"Jasper?" Willow asks with an amused lilt.

"Oh, I uh— may or may not have given each of your plants their own names," Hunter explains, slightly flustered, hand coming up to attack a phantom itch on the back of his neck and accidentally dousing himself with a spritz of the spray bottle. "Hope that's okay."

Willow didn't think it was possible for her to smile any brighter than she already was, but Hunter's just got that magic touch.

"Of course it is," she tells him, striding into the living room to stand right beside him, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she gazes up at him expectantly. "Please introduce me."

Hunter beams at her excitedly, turning his attention back to her — no, their — little family of plants, and launching into a lengthy explanation of why he named each one the way he did, oblivious to the way she's looking at him just now, gaze so smitten it's a wonder there aren't literal hearts in her eyes, wondering how it's possible to fall even deeper in love with this boy than she already was, how he never fails to make the fall feel like flying.

Elements of this chapter were inspired by art by beaniewinnie96

✨ Read Next Chapter | Chapter Masterlist ✨

Until You Meet Someone Who Makes The Fall Feel Like Flying

The Owl House » Huntlow

Title: Until You Meet Someone Who Makes The Fall Feel Like Flying

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: The Owl House (Masterlist)

Relationship: Hunter | The Golden Guard x Willow Park

AO3 Rating: Mature (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: Hunter and Willow have been secretly pining for one another since freshman year of high school, and now they're going to be college roommates. They're just moving in together, it's no big deal. Surely this won't change anything between them.

Hunter isn't sure at which point exactly he fell in love with her — when her fingers brushed through his hair as she checked him for a concussion, or when she brought him a soup bowl-sized mug of hot cocoa, winked at him, and said, "I put some extra marshmallows in there for you, helps with the healing, trust me" — but from that night on, Hunter knew that he loved her. And he hadn't stopped loving her, all the way to this exact moment five years later, where he now sat opposite her on his threadbare couch, faced with the prospect of living with her for the next seven months.

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr: Chapter 1 » Chapter 2 » Chapter 3 » Chapter 4 » Chapter 5

[boxinthecorneroftheroom]

I came here today to say that Lilith by Halsey is Ron's POV of Toto and that's it

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

I don't think you understand

The mer price fic is absolute perfection.

Like I'm talking a literal masterpiece

This fic will stay engraved in my brain forever. You're an absolutely amazing writer. Thank you ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

anon, THANK you. i am actually thrilled to see other people enjoying mer Price and remora reader as much as i do. please please please let me brain dump more about Price taking remora reader back to his home reef to meet the rest of shark mer 141:

SOAP is enamored instantly because you're so fucking grabbable.

within moments of seeing you peek out from behind Price's tail, he darts around and snatches you up with greedy hands. you're so small!! so tiny and cute when you squirm. and you make noises. 

he handles you like a toy until Price barks at him to cut it out. he does (and Price makes him promise not to be so rough with you; you're fragile, he claims) but Soap is incorrigible.

he follows you for days afterward. just obsessed. he loves chasing your silver tail as you dart around the reef, trying to hide from him. when he catches up to you, you have little choice but to give in and let him manhandle you. he certainly toes the line of whatever Price meant when he said no rough play, you little shit, i mean it.

he pushes the limits of your docile nature. when you do eventually reach the end of your patience and dart out of his hands just to get a break from his grabby claws, guess what? you've triggered his prey drive and he gives chase. he catches you, of course, and then before he can stop himself, he bites you.

your squeal brings Price out into the open instantly and Soap gets an earful again. he grins at you the whole time as you hide over Price's shoulder.

after that, Soap gets a little craftier about it. he eases up just enough to figure out exactly how playful (rough) he can be before you can't take any more. he learns how to stop just shy of making you shriek again. Price is aware, but he's a little too indulgent to stop it. he's happy to let Soap have his fun as long as he doesn't break you. you just have to suck it up. that indulgent nature is how you ended up with Price in the first place, after all.

goes without saying, but Soap is the first one to use you as a sex toy.

GHOST seems to take zero interest in you at first. you're not the sharpest urchin in the tide pool, are you? you can't be if you're here willingly. he figures you won't stick around long, and if you do, you won't stay intact.

you attempt to take up grooming his skin and tail and teeth as you do with the others. he moves away from you without a word, lashing his scarred tail to re-settle himself several feet away.

if you follow and try to groom him again, you earn a deep growl.

you dart off the moment he voices that rumbling displeasure. he notes your skittishness around him and uses it to make you leave him alone.

you, however, have a job to do. you won't be scared off that easily.

after he chases you off that way a few times, you begin to find him and simply sit near him. mirroring him. no big deal. instead of grooming him, you use the time to groom yourself. can't keep everyone else clean if you're grimy, after all.

he notices you and growls to warn you off again. you pretend not to hear.

he flicks his tail in irritation, considers cuffing you over the head to teach you a lesson, but you're too far away to reach without kicking his whole big self up into the water to move several feet. so he elects instead to turn over and ignore you. you keep this up for several days. you sit a little closer every time.

one day, you finish cleaning your own tail fin and casually begin to clean his. he growls. you pause. when he stops and does nothing further, you resume your work. he growls again, and you continue grooming him as if you don't hear him. he keeps growling, but once you begin to run your claws over a stubborn patch of skin to dislodge some stuck grit that's been bothering him, his growling fades into grumbling. and then silence. he lets you keep at it. victory.

this becomes a habit. you seek him out (never the other way around) and typically find him lazing on the floor of some cave or sunning in the reef's shallows. you set to work grooming him thoroughly. all business. he grumbles and growls occasionally when you move his arm or tug your fingers through his hair, but he never stops you.

one day, Soap comes looking for you and finds you in the middle of this little cleaning ritual. Soap nudges you away, insisting you instead let him chase you around the reef. but the moment your hands leave Ghost's rough skin and he hears you protest, he opens his eyes and snaps his teeth at Soap.

Soap pulls back (and so do you) until Ghost grasps your lil wrist and drags you back down wordlessly to where you were sitting and cleaning his shoulder.

Soap smirks at him. Ghost glares back.

"you got something to say, then say it."

"here i thought you were toleratin' it for her sake. seems i misjudged the situation."

"there is no situation."

"whatever you say."

Soap leaves with a flick of his tail. you're so pleased that, when you're finished grooming Ghost, you burrow yourself between his arms as he lays on his side. you nuzzle into his neck and bunt your head up against him, practically purring now that you know you've apparently won him over.

he grabs you, pretending to be disgruntled, but then instead of releasing you he crushes you against his chest again and settles in for a nap. no, you don't get to leave.

GAZ wonders what exactly is going on inside your head. it doesn't escape his notice that your """instincts""" seem to have you by the throat in this situation. but he suspects you're leaning a bit more into that whole brainless servant thing than you're letting on.

he's perfectly happy to let you groom him, flatter him, fetch him whatever baubles or snacks he'd like at the moment; he's perfectly polite to you, too. really likes it when you butter him up. tell him he's got the sharpest teeth and the strongest muscles and the fastest tail in the reef and he'll listen to you for hours, preening in the sunlight as you clean the grime off his fins.

plus, he praises you too, and you love that. that's why it takes you so long to notice he's watching you much more closely than anyone else is.

see, you've already disarmed Price. Soap sees you as a toy more than a fellow mer. Ghost cares more about finding the best places to lurk around than understanding the little mer that shares their reef now. it's fascinating--how you've successfully passed yourself off as a silly, stupid little fish. the more he watches you, analyzes you, the more he wonders what exactly you're getting out of this.

when you groom him each day, he asks you questions. casual ones. are you enjoying the reef? what games do you like to play? how fast can you swim? how many other mer have you met? are you eating enough? what's your favorite food?

it's enough to make you wary, but then, he seems harmless. you're honest with him. it pays off, because when you tell him how much you like the taste of those little brown seabirds that dip into the reef from time to time, you're shocked the next day to find one of those very seabirds sitting dead--neck cleanly snapped--just for you in the shallow alcove next to where Price sleeps (and you by extension).

you find Gaz that instant and insist it's too kind a gift; you can't accept it. what you can't tell him is that it's not a good idea for you to eat in front of them. you eat scraps, and you eat them where of them can see. that's the deal--obviously you do what you do for these four sharks in exchange for protection and ostensibly for food, but you need to avoid looking like you're taking more than your fair share. and to sharks, a species that is notoriously food-aggressive, your fair share must be vanishingly small.

he just smiles at you--so disarmingly that you flounder for a moment. somehow he convinces you to keep the kill.

he begins to turn up--looking amused but not surprised--when you steal scraps of food after the group has had its fill of a fresh kill. it makes you nervous for him to see you with food in hand (much less to watch you eat) but he scoffs at the idea of holding it against you. 

at some point, he begins to bring you fresh meat himself. this is-- it's unacceptable. you're supposed to be the one working while he rests. he's not allowed to give you that kind of comfort. if you're not earning your keep, after all, you don't have a place here. you push his gifts away, busying yourself with some other task. he insists. you decline.

"you're refusing me?" he asks, feigning surprise. "i thought that went against your instincts."

you fluster, ruffling up in what he assumes is a pout. he's trapped you in a catch-22. ultimately, you have to accept the stupid meat-gift because it's what he wants. you find this makes you more irritable than it should. he smirks at you, which serves to irritate you more.

he pulls you into his lap as you eat. and he thinks it's so cute the way you scowl the whole time.

from then on, whenever you act a little too stupid for his liking, he pries and pokes and prods until he draws out that other, haughtier side of you. he has a knack for frustrating you. he loves to sass you, and when you finally drop the act and sass him back, he falls a little bit more in love with you every time.

...

more mer au / masterlist tag

[ckret2]

Hey gang, time for Crowdsourced Brainstorming Time

for reasons, I've got to write Mabel and Bill watching (at least large chunks of) a full Color Critters episode, which means I need something more in-depth than the quick snips & summaries I've done for previous episodes, and I feel like brainstorming a kids' cartoon plot is the kind of thing where twenty brains are better than one.

The goal: episode plotlines that sounds like something you'd find in an 80s Care Bears or Rainbow Brite episode. We're going for "run-of-the-mill episode," not a plot you'd expect in a pilot or a finale or an exciting two-parter special event

the premise of the show: anthropomorphic animals are defending colors, which are magically tied to different concepts. Example: the color green and friendship: when friends are fighting it kills nearby green things and if green things are destroyed it negatively impacts nearby friendships. it's for kindergarteners and teaches simple life lessons that people in the 80s thought were a good idea.

And if you haven't lost interest in this post yet, I'm sticking the available characters under the read more

Good guys, the colors they're in charge of, and what that gives them power over:

Prisma the Rainbow Fairy - rainbows, white, light - she's basically just Rainbow Brite. Everyone else's boss. Unofficially the main character.

Glory the Unicorn - pink - no particular domain, just Prisma's second-in-command and bestie. A bit of a worrywart.

Leo Proud - Red - life, exercise, playing (especially active play like sports)

Teddy Tender - orange - health/healing, fun & enjoyable things (less active play like board games)

Sunny Cat - yellow - sunlight, self-confidence, personal strength/power/assertiveness. she and Leo are cousins

Love Bunny - Green - friendship, love, nature

Howell Wolf - Blue - creativity, storytelling, magic (he's a wizard, he's got a wizard hat). he's besties with Leo

Misty the Dolphin - indigo - serenity/harmony, cooperation. She can't travel most places due to being a dolphin and gets used in well-intended but dated episodes about accommodating your friends with disabilities.

some bird I haven't named yet, maybe a peacock - purple - spirit

Bad guys:

Duke of Smog - the Big Bad, floating cloud of purple-gray smog with red angry eyes. He only takes an active role for special occasions like the pilot episode and season finales; otherwise the other characters frequently reference him but he's rarely seen. Wants to destroy color and goodness. No Heart mixed with that one creep in the Rainbow Brite pilot two-parter, what was with that dude anyway, they built him up so much as a villain and then bam he doesn't even survive to be part of the actual show

Serpent Grey - the second-in-command and most frequently seen bad guy. snake that has a mane for some reason. Bosses around the rank-and-file bad guys, cowardly dumbass who thinks he's a courageous genius. Shreeky mixed with G1 Starscream if he wasn't trying to overthrow megatron. If this show actually existed in the real world and I had watched it at age 7 then Serpent would be my favorite character and I'd probably have shipped him with the Duke.

a big fuzzy tarantula I haven't named yet - well-meaning bumbling dumbass who doesn't seem to realize he's one of the bad guys and is just happy to be included. Think Lurky.

a bee I also haven't named yet - the most important thing to know about him is that in season 1 he was a bad guy but then a special interest group angrily wrote the TV station to say that bees are so important to nature and agriculture and it was shameful for a children's cartoon to teach kids that bees are bad guys and so in season 2 he inexplicably joined the good guys and it took half the season for them to air an episode showing he switched sides because the other bad guys were bullying him and the good guys were nice.

"Hey Puff how come you can describe the bad guys in so much more detail than the good guys even though they're much less important?" don't look at me

[tblsomedoodles]

Here's an art/info dump about this stupidly cute idea that's been rotating in my brain for three day.

(the first comic here is just how they first met. they ended up in the same alley, pestering the same cat without noticing. Then the cat left and they notice they're not alone lol)

(Second is Donnie 'talking' with Mikey for the first time. He only uses Mind Mend to communicate and is just as surprised as Mikey to find it worked on him. (it has only worked with Leo before this))

I'll put the rest under a break b/c i will be going off about this and i don't want it to take up your entire feed.

I'm jokingly calling this "Mikey's Imaginary Friends" though that might change if i continue this.

Basically it's this, the twins grew up with Draxum while Raph and Mikey grew up with Splinter. Neither set knew about the other (b/c splinter though they were dead and didn't want his two remaining kids to worry about it, and Draxum was too focused on fixing his lab to pay much attention to the twins.) So, imagine Mikey's shock when, at age 8, he's out exploring topside (having snuck out) and runs into two more mutant turtles (who also snuck out and are exploring.) Thus begins an ongoing sneaking out to meet up thing between the three b/c Mikey's excited to have new friends and the twins are just as fascinated with Mikey as he is with them.

And before you ask, "hey, why doesn't Mikey tell his family about the two other turtles?" he does. Raph thinks he just made up some imaginary friends so he plays along but doesn't believe they're real. Splinter, on the other hand, thinks he's talking to Hamato ancestors due to some very big miscommunications (that i'll probably draw out at some point b/c it's silly)

Twins background wise, i'm still thinking through a lot of it, but i'll put my thoughts down anyways.

Draxum knew that training the twins at a young age would be counterproductive, so he doesn't train them beyond some basics a few times a week. Other than those sessions, he leaves them alone with their less-than-stellar caretaker, in favor of rebuilding his lab. The caretaker doesn't do much for them beyond give them food and very basic school like lessons. Beyond that the twins are left on their own.

they come to the conclusion that the only people that will care for them is themselves. They discover Mind Meld very early as a result of this and will not talk verbally b/c they found out early on with their caretaker, that if they tried to talk, they were just ignored anyways, so what's the point.

(I'm also thinking Donnie might be deaf or hard of hearing in this, with the pair of them using Mind Meld as a way for him to temporarily hear through Leo and thus keep Drax from finding out. but i'll have to do some more research before i decide for sure/figure out the specifics)

as for Meeting Mikey

That's why they became so fascinated with mikey. B/c mikey was the first person that treated them like a person and not a job or an incomplete experiment. (He's also so happy and bright, they can't avoid getting drawn to him lol)

Mikey's probably the only one they verbally start talking to, even after they teach him mind meld. (though Leo's the one to pick up on that more than Donnie. Donnie doesn't do much talking at all outside mind meld).

They also come out of their shells (hehe) a lot as they interact more with Mikey. Before they met him, they acted more like automatons, even when alone. The more they socialize with Mikey, the sillier these two get. Leo learns about puns and starts going mad with them, Donnie starts happy stimming about thing (which he has either been suppressing or just never had the urge to do before.) Basically they stop acting like little creepy statues and start acting like kids.

Honestly, it's just a cute idea with the kiddos meeting each other and Mikey inadvertently socializing his not-well-socialized brothers.

(also, the twins wear masks b/c Donnie doesn't like the smell of the city and he's worried about germs. Not for any ninja reasons, what so ever.)

Alright, that's it for my info dump. maybe more later? Maybe not? Depends on how much longer these kids keep my attentions (though right now, they're doing a pretty good job at it lol)

[penkura]

OP Men as Dads Part 2

Note: I chose to do another five OP men for this one!! My brain won't shut off about these men being dads, I'm losing it omg. I hope these are good, I kind of struggled a little but just wrote whatever came to mind. Maybe I can do a part three at some point with more of them! I have a small idea for Mihawk and Franky, but that's it so far. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Sticking baby Ace for the image because I got nothing else lol.

Part One Here!

Kid is a boy dad, I’m sorry he just is. I can’t see him with a daughter really, unless she’s the youngest and was a surprise. But anyway! He’d have three boys that were all three years apart, and all are exactly like him. You really do love your sons and husband, but how you wish at least one of your boys was calm. The four of them are always roughhousing to the point you’ve had to set rules to keep from Kid accidentally hurting them, or your children from breaking things when he isn’t involved. When you have a set of twins a few years after your third son, another two boys, you’re done and just accepting your fate as a boy mom. You and Kid love all your boys though, neither of you would change anything, especially when your youngest ends up being a momma’s boy who’s finally calm and would rather spend his time with you than anyone else. Kid isn’t jealous, he swears.

~~

Usopp I can see with two girls! A few years between them, and they’re both the light of his life aside from you of course! Every story he tells them before bed makes them both so excited to grow up and become Pirates themselves, brave women of the sea! The oldest will want to help Usopp and Franky with inventions and fixing up the ship, while the youngest wants to be a sniper like her dad. You have no complaints about either one of those, more than grateful they both want to take after Usopp and following in his footsteps. Your girls absolutely love their dad, you get a little jealous sometimes, but getting to watch the three of them bond is your favorite thing in the world. It might make him a little emotional, especially after not having Yasopp around as he grew up.

~~

Shanks, I’m sure a lot are wondering about, would be such a great dad, we’ve seen him with Luffy and Uta, there’s no way he’d let down his biological kids imo. I see him with a son first, one with his hair that’s even more wild, and then twin girls! They’d all be about four years apart in age, but they’d run him ragged day in and day out. He'd teach your son how to wield a sword and help him develop his Haki, while your daughters will learn more hand to hand combat, though your youngest will join the sword lessons when she’s ready. When they’re little, he lets your girls put pins and braids in his hair, while telling all three of them stories about his time on the sea. The rest of the crew adores your children, Shanks knew they’d all be great uncles to your little ones.

~~

SHACHI WOULD SUCH A GOOD DAD OMG. You think I’m pushing Penguin propaganda, I’m here for Shachi now too. He’ll have two boys within two years of each other, yes the second is a surprise but so beyond welcomed, and then several years later a little girl that has all three of them wrapped around her finger! Your daughter would have his red hair, she’d just be the prettiest little thing, with chubby cheeks and her hair pulled back into two little ponytails. Your sons would have a mix between your hair and Shachi’s, both taking more after their dad in personality than anything. Of course, Shachi will teach all three of them to defend themselves, but especially your daughter since she’s the baby and he just wants her to be safe, even with her big brothers as her guardians.

~~

Rosinante, Corazon, however we wish to call him, he would be the best dad out of this group, I’m sure of it. Apart from taking in Law, he’d have two of his own children, a girl first and then a boy a couple years later. Law would act as a big brother to the two, it’d be the cutest thing ever. While your daughter would be outgoing and ready to take on the world, your son would much shier and would rather hide himself behind you or Corazon, normally his dad though. Corazon would NOT let Doflamingo around them; he’d probably keep the three of you a secret, maybe even his adoption of Law too, just to keep you all safe. He’s lost family before, he doesn’t want it to happen again, even if that means picking up and moving you all where his brother can’t find you. Apart from that, Corazon would make sure all of you had everything you needed, and your son would hold onto him through everything.  Your daughter would attach more to Law, but that’s perfectly fine, he’s accepted her as his new little sister and wants to protect her, he wants to protect your son too where he can. Your daughter would also want to keep her baby brother safe, not one of you would let a thing happen to a hair on his head. Corazon finally has a family again, a family of his own, he’s not letting anything happen to any of you anytime soon.

[canthelpit0]

Jealous girl

Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k +

Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader (if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected

(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)

I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.

I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.

I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.

We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.

So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.

At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.

So I reluctantly agreed.

There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.

Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.

Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.

We don’t talk a lot though.

★ ★ ★

I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

But I have homework and-

My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.

“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.

“Chris?” I ask back.

At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.

I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.

He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.

“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.

“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.

“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.

“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.

After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.

“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.

I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.

Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.

We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.

“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.

“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.

“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”

That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.

“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Yeah” he chirps back happily.

Oh so now they were snapping too?

He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.

Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.

I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.

The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.

The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.

“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.

“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.

I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.

“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.

I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.

“Chris, I have shit to do”

that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.

“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.

I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.

I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.

Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.

Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.

Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.

It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.

“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.

“I mean it.” He answers.

But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.

The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.

I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.

“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.

I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.

Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.

And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.

Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.

“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.

She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.

I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.

We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.

We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?

My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.

“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.

He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”

I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.

“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.

Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.

“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.

“Y/n” he huffs.

“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.

“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.

But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.

★ ★ ★

The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.

She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.

It was just the same old recycled bullshit.

He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?

That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.

I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.

“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.

This was our weekly complaining session.

“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.

“Eva?” I nod.

“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.

“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.

“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.

I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.

After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.

★ ★ ★

“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.

I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.

It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.

I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.

“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.

“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.

The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.

Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.

We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.

We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.

Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.

I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.

Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.

“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.

Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.

Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.

“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.

“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.

He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.

I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.

I put my overnight bag on his desk.

“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.

He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.

I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.

He crossed his arms staring back at me.

“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.

“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.

After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.

“Shit you’re right.”

Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.

I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.

“I know” I say simply.

“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.

Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.

“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.

I walk up to the side of his bed.

I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.

We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.

“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.

Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.

His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.

He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.

I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”

“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.

He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.

“We can do both” he assures.

I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.

He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”

Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.

Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.

I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.

“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.

I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.

He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.

I pull away admiring his neck.

I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.

“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.

His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.

It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.

“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.

I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.

I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.

The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.

“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.

He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”

I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.

“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.

He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.

I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.

His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.

I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.

He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.

I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.

My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.

Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.

I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.

“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.

He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.

My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.

He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.

“Please ride me ma.”

He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.

I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.

I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.

I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.

He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.

I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.

He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.

“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.

I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.

It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.

I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.

The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.

“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.

Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.

I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.

His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.

I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.

“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.

“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.

My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.

I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.

“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.

I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.

“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.

I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.

“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.

He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.

I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.

I film his face and his reactions now.

His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.

“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.

my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.

I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.

After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.

He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.

Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.

But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.

I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.

“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.

He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.

As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.

He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.

“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.

“I’m kind of busy right now”

But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”

Fucking pick me.

“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.

She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.

I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.

I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.

He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.

He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.

“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy

He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.

My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.

“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.

He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.

He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.

He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.

He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.

I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.

“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.

“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.

“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.

“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.

He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.

And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.

The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.

Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.

We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.

He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.

He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.

He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.

He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.

“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.

I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.

“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.

I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.

I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.

“Were you jealous?”

My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.

“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.

“I never liked her.”

“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.

I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.

“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.

I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.

“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile

“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.

“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.

“Why would I be jealous?” I huff, replying sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at me victoriously. He lays down next to me staring into my eyes.

Masterlist

A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf

[twstfanblog]

Hey :3 I have another request :3 sorry I'm just a big ass Silver simp and I'm starved for content :3

Anyways! You know how Silver hates to be idle? Like that's his pet peeve, and I can't sit the fuck still ever- so!

SWORD TRAINING DATE 🗣️🗣️🗣️ 🔥🔥🔥

My brothers have some weird hobbies so I have held a sword before so it's not like I'm getting knocked on my ass right out the gate, but like... I'm still getting knocked on my ass cause like- Intermediate swordsman vs Trained Knight of Malleus Draconia, Son of General Vanrouge ™... Yeah there's a clear winner there and it ain't me.

But yeah. SWORD FIGHTING DATE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥 WITH INAPPROPRIATE AMOUNTS OF SEXUAL TENSION 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥 IDK MAN THERE'S JUST SOMETHING ABOUT SWORDS AND HIM AND HIM WITH A SWORD THAT JUST FUCKING GETS ME🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥

Thank you <3

Sword Courting

Silver x Reader

Sword training was a chore, a recreational activity, and as simple as breathing to Silver. Once his father had deemed him ready to hold a wooden blade with some type of grace, he'd been training. It was only an added bonus that he didn't fall asleep as easily when he and Sebek practiced.

But, while he was tutored heavily in the blade, he wasn't sure how effective he'd be as a teacher.

Silver checked over the wooden tool, making sure the handle was properly covered with the cotton stripes, "Are...you sure about this? I'm in full support of you learning proper technique for self defense reasons, but am I the right one to teach you?"

The prefect smiled from across the practice area, still stretching in a warm-up routine, "I mean, I couldn't think of anyone better! Unless you mean to have Sebek or Lilia teach me-"

"No, this is for the best."

"Wow, not even a moment to defend your dad..."

"I love you and believe in your abilities. But, I am sure you'd die from my father's training methods..."

The prefect smiled dryly, walking over to take the sword from Silver's hands, "Thank you for the vote of confidence..."

"I just..." Silver looks away, his face a mixture of bashful and pensive, "I don't want you harmed..."

"..." The prefect smiled, leaning over to press a kiss Silver's cheek before walking away, "Don't worry! I'm much tougher than I look." They turned around, wooden sword in hand and moving to mimic a stance they've seen Sebek do, "Now, let's get started!"

Silver corrected their stance before grabbing his own wooden sword and standing opposite of them. He guided them, showing simple swings and block moves before he moved closer.

"Ok. We'll start simple. Use the moves I demonstrated and we will work to more complex moves as we go."

" Got it!"

What followed could barely be counted as a spar between babies. The dull clicks of wood gently tapping wood as Silver lack lusterously blocked and swung his blade. While he had sacrificed his normal battle mindset to keep the lesson safe, the prefect had grown more annoyed at seeing just how much he was holding back.

When Silver went to swing his sword, instead of blocking, the prefect swung their sword to hit Silver on the forearm. Their attack proving too harsh in their frustration, the resulting clack of Silver's sword moving to block was enough to make both of their eyes widen.

"...Um...I think it best we stick to basics-"

CLACK

The prefect moved again, this time thrusting their sword forward to his stomach only to have it quickly slashed away. Working on pure muscle memory, Silver moved to attack back with more force.

The once dull and rhythmic clicks had turned into a rapidly off-beat assortment of sounds of wooden swords clashing and chest-heavy grunts. Even with the prefect being the clear aggressor of the two, almost chasing Silver around the arena, the knight was stone-faced. He'd let the stray grunt slip past his lips, but his movements almost effortlessly blocked their swings. He couldn't place why the racing of his heart felt so different from normal training, why the sound of the prefect's panting made something in his brain rattle against a cage he never knew was there.

As they lock eyes, the prefect suddenly close enough to grab unto the collar of his shirt, a desperate attempt to stop his elusions. Silver wasn't entirely sure what happened. But the now enormous cage within his mind rattled his very bones and he moved without thinking.

He gripped the prefect by the collar, lifting them off of their feet and over his head. Slamming them to the ground and pinning them beneath him. The two of them staring into each other's eyes as they gave ragged and gasping breaths. As his breathing evened out, he finally took notice of their position. Him straddling their hips, one of his knees pressed against their inner thigh with a hand balled into a fist and pressed in the area between their visible collarbone and sweat-laced throat.

Blushing, Silver blinked and pulled away, but didn't release the prefect's shirt, "Sorry...Sorry, I got carried away. I might have thrown you too hard, are you hurt-"

"Silver, I don't know where this is going, but I am ok with it."

"..." Silver felt the blush on his face darken, the prefect looking into his eyes with an almost hungry intent. He briefly looked to the side before looking back to them, "Where...Where are we going?"

"I don't know, but if you throw me like that again, we're gonna find out."

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Helloo! It's my first time requesting:)) I love your fics lol. You write so good!!

Can I please request yandere bonten men with a slightly chubby bimbo reader who's insecure about her weight. She's bubbly, gullible and naive. They caught her talking to someone who's tryna hit her up. For the nsfw part can I please get belly bulging 😔

no? *sigh* fine.. here's my offering..

🫱🏼(‿o‿)🫲🏼

Yandere!Bonten!Mikey x Chubby!Insecure!Bimbo!Reader

♡ NSFW, fem reader, wife!reader, mention of Sanzu and Bonten execs, brief mention of murder, gun use, lowkey naive!reader, size kink, belly bulging, big dick!Mikey, spanking, unprotected sex + creampie, kinda rough sex, not proofread ♡

note: I didn't know if you wanted a poly relationship or separate, so I just chose Mikey (I couldn't do all of them, I'm sorry but my brain is fried), I'm trying to keep the note short so anything else I have to yap about is in the tags

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

You, your husband, and the Bonten executives were out at one of their nightclubs, trying to enjoy the little bit of time they had to spare due to their demanding jobs. You were in your cutest little dress, Mikey's favorite dress to be more precise. The one that hugged your curves just right and drove him damn near insane from how bad he wanted to rip it off of you.

Bonten had all gone their separate ways throughout the night, essentially leaving Sanzu in charge of watching you. He walked away from the booth you were sitting at for not even five minutes just to turn around and see a man, who he recognized as one of your coworkers, sitting across from you and quite obviously flirting with you.

Sanzu's first thought is to get this man away from you, by any means necessary. He walks back over to the booth, drawing his gun and pressing it to the man's temple.

"I don't know if you know this, but this lady right here is my boss's wife. So I suggest you move unless you want a piece of metal in your brain."

As soon as he's made aware of the situation, Mikey gets security to escort the man out the club, you can tell he did it because he has the slightest of smirks on his usually blank face. He sits down next to you and pulls you into his lap, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as if to give you a warning.

"What did I say about talking to strangers?"

"But he's not-"

"Don't talk back to me, I could have this whole place burned to the ground in a matter of seconds with that bastard trapped inside."

Soon, the rest of Bonten comes over and surrounds you at the table, naming off all the things they could do to your coworker.

"We could send some of our men to his house, teach him a little lesson without-" Koko tries to suggest.

"Or we could just take care of him ourselves." Sanzu interjects, itching to whoop some ass.

They couldn't care less about the man being your coworker because employees are always replaceable and they know Mikey would rather you not work with him anyway, so they all silently agree to take care of him permanently later on. For now, Mikey has to take care of you. He excuses himself, dragging you from the club into the car, and as soon as he gets you home he's bending you over the kitchen counter and pushing your dress up past your hips.

"C'mon baby, you know better than to test me like that, don't you?"

Mikey brings his rough, calloused hand down on your ass, smirking as he hears the little squeak that slips out your mouth. He grips your soft hips, his bulge pressing right against your pussy through your panties. He unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants and underwear down. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your plump thighs to reveal your soaked cunt.

“Look at you, all wet and ready for me.”

His middle finger slides back and forth between your folds, brushing lightly against your clit and making you weak in the knees. He lines himself up with your entrance and eases in, his fat cock stretching you out and causing a painful yet pleasurable burning sensation deep in your stomach. You can feel the tip of his dick knocking against the inside of your tummy, bulging through and pressing you firmly against the counter.

"Fuck! You're squeezing the life outta me."

"T-too big 'Jiro.."

"Too big? C'mon you can take it baby, you always take me so good."

His hips slap against your ass as he thrusts hard, his hand burying itself in your hair and pulling you off the counter to get a deeper angle. His free hand reaches around, cupping your tummy and applying pressure to the bulge formed there.

"You're so full of me, aren't you baby?"

All you can do is nod hurriedly and spew out nonsense in the form of moans, too fucked out to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. He presses soft kisses down your neck to your shoulder, his thrusts slowing down as he feels your pussy clenching around him as you cum. He lets out a raspy grunt shortly after as he starts to cum, filling you with his hot, gooey load.

He chuckles breathlessly as he pulls out, high off of his orgasm as he watches his cum leak out of you and drip down your thighs.

"You did so good princess. Gonna start behaving now, right? No more talking to strangers yeah?"

You mumble a soft 'Mhm' as your legs start to give out and you lie against the counter.

"Good." He peppers kisses on the nape of your neck before fixing his pants and helping you walk to the bathroom, knowing that he wouldn't have to worry about anyone stealing you away.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten @mdsbabygirl

[nemesyaaa]

pairing : nerd!bf!pope heyward x cute!gf!reader

warnings/infos : fluff and bittersweet angst, no smut actually but mentions of suggestive content.

highschool sweetheart trope. teenagers in love vibes.

╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sweetheart highschool boyfriend trope with pope heyward headcanons !

ღˊˎ your nerdy boyfriend pope was the one to always support you, more than your own parents and whole family. your academic weapon boy loved to covered your empty locker with full multi-colors post-it with motivation quotes.

ᰔᩚ “ i believe in you, pretty girl like you who never lose.”

ᰔᩚ “ the only thing so hard is the pressure you put on yourself when you think you can success this whole exam but i know how smart you are. and everytime in your late night session you show me how smarty you are, it make me more and more in love with you.”

ᰔᩚ “ if you want this ice cream so bad, you know what to do ;) “

ᰔᩚ “ you know what is bigger than your ass ? your fat thick brain. make me cum so bad everytime.“ (jj forced him to write this tho.)

ᰔᩚ “ but it's okay if you fail sweetheart, i'm here for you. but don't pout if i'm getting more strict in your study lesson. i just want to help you, how bad i will be to let my girl lose like that and don't win after ??”

ღˊˎ- every time you had a class, and he finished before you, he would wait against the wall. probably, playing video games on his console. jj keeping him company.

➸ btw if you're in an exam, that fucking smart brain is going to climb on jj's shoulders to reach the high window of the classroom and looked after you.

ღˊˎ- you and your genius boyfriend loved hanging out in the big library of the school. you helped him with his research, and you liked it when he taught you things. you loved the fact that he was so intelligent, and that he had passions to share with you.

meanwhile, you watched him speak, your eyes on his lips. and he will ended up kissing you. his soft mouth against yours. short’n lazily kisses.

ᰔᩚ pope was the type of boyfriend to kissed you while softly caressing your neck, getting his hands on your sensitive skin by his touch, his tongue pressed yours, light string of saliva covered your lips. such a fine loser boy.

➸ you were in love with his starry eyes. especially when they looked at you, and chased after you. you know, they cared.

"keep focus, sugar. we're not done yet.”

“ too bad, your smart brain actually turn me on.”

“ maybe i can help you with that ? “

“ oh yes, just continue to telling me some facts with this so serious face. don't stop using your brain but start to use your fingers, let them play with something better than your console.“

“ sorry ma’am but nothing is better than my conso…”

you rolled your eyes. and smiled. because you knew that he telling you the truth. you made him shut up by taking his console.

“ you need to make me cum, and i will give your console back. do you think you can do that, nerdy boy ? ”

“ be prepare to squirt, because is there is one thing here that nerdy boys are the most good at is clearly playing with their toys. so may i give you five orgasms ? “

ღˊˎ he walked you home, taking the bus with you. you were sitting next to each other. each of you had an earphones in your ear. you shared new playlists, and you loved going to a music store and collecting old vinyl with him.

he putted the music headphones on your small head, and you murmured a song that he tried to guess by the movement of your lips.

ღ ˊˎ pope was a pogue. he was not rich. but he will do his best to spoil you. but above all, he's a nerd, he's not obsessed with money. like everyone else he feels the desire to be rich but he is happy with what he has.

for him, it's more important to teach you new things, to spend time on the internet with you, or to play a game while you sit on his lap.

“ man, i can hear your boner.” say jj because pope and him were always together. sometimes, the blonde one came at your house without your consent, and his excuses was “ it's just for a game, i will not sleep here. “

"she's my girlfriend, she sits on my lap and plays like a goddess, of course i have a boner. but why my bestfriend have one?”

“ excuse me for getting a boner when my character is literally a woman with big tits jiggling all over the place, barely covered and in armor. and fights like a fucking soldier.”

“ you two are really….”

ღˊˎ you loved as much as you hated when pope helped you study. because he was so strict. he wasn't the type of boyfriend who was going to get distracted and fuck you because you couldn't think clearly and made him waste our time.

no he was the type of boyfriend to tell you "yes, we've been at this for hours but you can add three more hours since we're still at the beginning of the exercise.”

“ can we take a break ? “

“ i already gave you by let you procrastinate while i'm asking you these answers. “

“ ….pope ! “

“ no no, you can be dumb as you want with your idgaf teachers but not with me. if i'm asking for your answers, i will get it. you can take your time, i don't care. “

“ you're so mean. “

“ because i care of your results ? because i care about your future ? fine, i like being that mean so. “

you gave him a death stare.

“ you better change this look before i get far worse than you could have imagined. “

you pouted, even though it didn’t change anything.

“i don’t want to sound rude but if jj can do it, anyone can do it.”

“ the fact is i don't know who you insult the most jj or me….”

“ listen, i know how smart you are, like i know this brain is the most unique thing i've ever seen. use it, i'm already proud of you, but you just need to show me a little of your incredible intelligence. and not only me, to everyone. “

you started to think more and more, and ended up to work harder to gave him the answers.

ღˊˎ pope was the type of boyfriend to give you handmade jewelry. especially bracelets. and every time you wore them, he was so happy.

he was also the type to watch the sunset on the high school bleachers or on the beach sand for hours with you, his precious girlfriend.

when night fell and he didn't wanted to going home, he would teach you how to surf.

ღ ˊˎ pope loved it when you wore his clothes, mostly his summer shirts and especially when you wore nothing underneath. he was a shy nerd so he would never admit how much he loved watching your freely nipples, slapped by the fresh wind.

you appreciated taking a nap on his chest for hours and hours in the bed of your room, while he's playing with his console, and with his other hand, cuddle you a little. sometimes, he randomly talked, making your ears so soft to his calm asmr voice, while he told you about the games he actually played, geeking about the fantasy core that you were clearly not aware of.

ღˊˎ he was your first love and you had your first time with him. was the same for him, you were the first girl he loved, and it was crazy for him how you made him so dumb when he was so smart.

ღˊˎ he loved complimenting you, telling you how beautiful you were, but also how smart and brilliant you were. that you were more than what people saw or thought about you.

ღ ˊˎ he liked how precious your moments were, how time lasted so long with you.

ღˊˎ you had filled your bedroom wall with your first words sharing together, with things you loved about each other, with photos of our dates. you don't want to forget anything. him neither.

ღ ˊˎ you were so cute with him and always stuck together.

ღ ˊˎ you thought it was going to last a long time, forever and for life. you were teenagers in love, filled with hard feelings, young matters, academic pressure.

ღˊˎ but today, back in the present, you were wondering what happened to your high school sweetheart, was he married, was his wife as nice as you, did he have children, did they look like him, did he have a big house, did he have the one you dreamed of when you were teenagers, was he as happy as he was with you, was he still a pogue or had he changed his future? did he still think about you when you can't get him out of your mind ? did he hear your late night thoughts screaming his name ?

ღ ˊˎ you went back to high school. but he was no longer there. you were no longer young, nor in love. you were adults and married. in the same life that you thought you shared.

ღˊˎ when you tried to contact him by phone but another woman answered the phone to tell you that her husband wasn't there. you understood, understood that you had become a simple memory. and him, the hardest ghost to find.

ღ ˊˎ he was your high school sweetheart, such a smart nerd and such an interesting person. it was certain that he had succeeded in life.

ღ ˊˎ you tried to call him one last time. “you were wrong, i’m not that smart.”

and you burst into tears when you heard his breathing and alive voice.

“ congratulations, pope heyward. was the life you cherished for. “

[brendaareiss]

andre fucking cal hcs PLS!!!!!!!

CALDRE NSFW HEADCANONS!

-They mostly do it in the missionary and the cowgirl positions, although, these are not their favorite. Their favorite is actually doggy, andre because he feels like he has more control and Cal because he likes how andre pins his head down onto the mattress.

- Cal absolutely loves Andre's dirty talk.

- I've said this before, pretty dick (cal) + big dick (andre) duo

- They've done it in EVERY house they could. In Andre's (most of the time), in Cal's (his siblings almost caught them), in the kriegman's summer house (Andre's parents actually caught them, but they were under the sheets so they thought they were only play fighting), they've done a quickie in the bathroom of Chris house... Yea

- Cal didn't only call andre "lieutenant" in the car scene. Yall can think abt where else he has called him that.

- Andre LOVES controlling Cal's orgasms and teasing/ overstimulating the hell out of him. He wants to see him absolutely overwhelmed, sobbing nonstop and ruined.

- Andre covers Cal's neck with hickeys. It's because he's jealous of Rachel, so he makes sure Rachel can see the marks in Cal's neck

- They both tease the hell out of them in public. Cal's hand traveling a little bit too high on Andre's thigh while eating dinner with the kriegman's, Andre's hands going to squeeze Cal's ass when nobody can see them...

- Btw, Cal is obsessed with Andre's chest and Andre is obsessed with Cal's ass.

- Andre has fucked Cal's face under his desk plenty of times.

- Also, Andre absolutely LOVES when Cal cries during it (not because of the pain, obviously)

- Of course Cal is with his wrists cuffed and with Andre's belt around his neck most of the time

- Andre has literally fucked Cal's brains out a lot of times too. Cal couldn't even get his eyes properly opened, his legs trembling, his head dizzy and stumbling over words over and over again. Andre found it cute.

- They don't usually do it, but they've done the "upstanding citizen" position before. Cal being on Andre's arms and holding on for dears life

- I'M SORRY BUT ANDRE FUCKED THE HELL OUT OF CAL ON PROM NIGHT.

- They're usually too desperate to prep Cal, so yeah, it hurts him a little at the begging

- Andre has fucked Cal onto the floor. Yea

- Andre has learned to manage his anger with Cal. Every time Cal does something Andre doesn't like, after screaming his lungs at him, he'll go rougher than ever, overstimulating Cal as hell too, to "teach him a lesson".

- They have a lot of angry sex. Yeah.

[holybibly]

i know i’ve seen one like this out there but like sports players ateez… just holy 🙃

like can you imagine what it’d be like to be a cheerleader (literally) and then finding out they’ve been perving over you in your uniform and they decide that they have to have you and slowly one by one they add themselves into your little reverse harem … MM!

I LOVE harems, and I have no shame about it. I hate to have to make choices when I can have it all. 

You just piss them off—literally everything about you, from that extra-short puffy skirt and that cute tight top to those damn pom-poms and those stupid ponytails with the pink ribbons on them. You're so cheeky and proud that you don't even look in their direction. 

You don't admire them, and don't drool all over the floor. You don't put your wet knickers in their lockers or send them naked pictures. These facts literally scratch them from the inside out. The burning hatred eats away at their brains. Who do you think you are? They're a bloody star football team—titled, rich, and sexy. And you—you're just a pathetic bouncing girl, and they won't talk about how much they stare at your tits when you do jumping jacks. 

This whole nonsense is Hongjoog's fault. It was his idea to drag you into the shower after the match, and Woosan evil accomplices just added fuel to the fire. But you gave them hell. You nearly ripped out Hongjoong's beautiful cat eyes, you kicked and bit them, making them look like they survived a fight with a wildcat.

God, all that fire in your little body set them off in such a way that from that moment on, well, nothing went as planned. 

You were terribly annoying; that's what Yeosang told himself as he pinned you against the shelves in a corner of the library. He didn't like girls like that—so loud and so rude. That's what he told himself over and over again as he feverishly tore off your shirt and kissed everything he could get his hands on. He just wanted to get a taste of it. Just a taste. He said to himself pushing his fingers into your pussy.

All those little skirts and cute little bows-you're definitely an attention whore. You just begged to be fucked.

And Wooyoung was driven mad by the fact that it was never him who did it. All your smiles, all your sweet words, all your sultry looks - you gave them to everyone, but never to him. And it fucking irritated him. It annoyed him so much that one day he just grabbed you in class, bent you over the table and spanked your juicy, perfect bottom until it was red and covered in his handprints. Of course, he took your knickers with him.

You were such an arrogant, bloody teacher's pet, and God, Seonghwa just wanted to shut your smart mouth with his fat cock, which is pretty much what he did. It was amazing to see you kneeling as he fucked you in the mouth. He was holding your head in place as he slid his big cock over your tongue, pushing it deeper and deeper until the head hit the back of your throat and you were choking on it. God, it was exactly what he'd had in his mind all the time. And he wanted more of it. 

Mean, aren't you? You're so damn mean that everything about you sets Jongho's cold, collected temper on fire. 

Bad girls have to be punished. They're taught to obey by having their cute skirts pulled up and their slutty wet cunt spanked until they learn to behave. And he teaches you that lesson by pinning you to the dressing room bench with one hand while he mercilessly spanks your pussy with the other. He will do this until you're squeal and squirm, begging him to stop, or do you just want more?

"I'm gonna fuck you, baby. You are going to beg for my cock until you start to sob. You know how to beg, don't you, or is that mouth just for cock sucking? If so, you can put that pretty tongue around mine immediately. Mingi used to love to tease you by whispering the dirtiest and most horrible things in your ear during the lessons. You used to blush so beautifully, and he couldn't help but wonder if your pussy was as beautifully pink as your chubby cheeks. 

San didn't love you. Absolutely not. And he told himself that over and over again, as his tongue slowly fucked your sweet cunt and his strong hands held your hips in a dead grip. He was angry, not at all jealous that you were paying attention to some dickhead guy. And he just needed a bit of relaxation before he broke the bastard's jaw, and you were just about perfect for the release. It's not jealousy, San assured himself. His mouth pressed greedily against your damn tasty pussy. Not jealousy at all.

You were so tiny, so fragile. And Yunho just wanted to destroy you. And your bloody temper didn't help. You looked so beautiful as he stretched you with his fingers. You had orgasm after orgasm, so many that the stimulation was painful. Your juices were all over the place, you were squrting so hard that your whole body was shaking from the overwhelming power of the orgasm. Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your eyes rolled back in your head. But that was just training before he fucked you hard, dumb and drooling. And as captain of the cheerleading squad, you knew very well that the only way to get the perfect result was to practice endlessly.

You were on his mind all the time. He thought about you all the time, and it was driving him crazy. Why don't you look at him? Why aren't you crawling at his feet, where your place is? When you could be sucking his dick or moaning his name, why do you spend all your fucking time talking and being rude? Hongjoong couldn't stop asking himself the same questions. You had wrapped him around your finger faster than he was able to comprehend and you had him in a choke hold. He hated you with the same passion as he wanted to fuck you. And God, he was going to do it. Left alone after his next win, he couldn't control himself and as a result you're on all fours with his dick deep inside you. He fucked you mercilessly and hard. Every thrust of his hips was filled with hatred for the stupid feeling of love he felt for you. You were like a drug to him. Hongjoong never wanted to stop experiencing this ecstasy.

[nunalastor]

The bird traits post was really funny, but I'm personally a big fan of Lucifer having snake-like traits and behaviors. So, may I propose:

Snake Traits AU:

Different species of snakes have different courtship behaviors, no two are exactly alike. Some of these behaviors include chasing and biting*.

You see where I'm going with this.

Now that they live on the same floor, Lucifer and Alastor can't avoid being in one another's proximity, butting heads, getting on one another's last nerves. Doesn't help that Alastor takes great joy in actively antagonizing Lucifer, always stopping just short of the line. Only the more Alastor does this, the more he chips away at Lucifer's nerves. Day, after day, after day, after the day.

Until finally, Lucifer has had enough.

On this particular day Alastor doesn't even really have to prod. Just him breathing in Lucifer's general direction is enough to set the king off and have him chasing Alastor across the upper floors of the hotel. You'd think Alastor would be slightly more concerned with the King of Hell chasing him with his horns out and spitting fire, but Alastor treats the whole thing like a game, shadowing just out of reach when Lucifer gets close and laughing all the while.

But eventually Lucifer does manage to grab ahold of Alastor and throw him to the ground, pinning him down while Alastor just grins up at him with a, 'like you would really do it,' expression on his face. And he's right. Even in his furious state, Lucifer knows he can't seriously hurt or kill Alastor. Not without alienating his daughter again. But he has to teach this pompous little demon a lesson show him who's in charge, and with Lucifer's snake brain still running the show he does the first thing that comes to mind. He sinks his teeth right into the column of Alastor's throat. He doesn't even undo the high-necked collar first, he bites right through the cloth.

It's not exactly sexy. Alastor's actually in a lot of pain. He goes completely rigid underneath Lucifer before trying to shove him off to no avail, biting his lip to keep from screaming. It takes several minutes before Lucifer finally pulls back, dazed with Alastor's blood dripping from his mouth. It's only when he sees Alastor's furious, embarrassed expression that it hits Lucifer just what he's done. He scrambles back until he hits the wall, babbling out apologies - he doesn't know what got into him, he's just been so stressed, it won't happen again, please don't tell Charlie - but Alastor doesn't stick around to hear any of them, vanishing into the shadows the moment he's free.

It's only after Lucifer's left alone in the hallway that he realizes that whole thing, the chasing, the capture, the bite, it got him kinda... worked up.

God he hopes Alastor didn't notice.

Alastor noticed.

(*Yes, this is a very very extremely simplified explanation of snake courtship rituals for funsies.)

👀

[mrsshabana]

random question to my queen because it's dawn and my brain is decomposing 💜💫;

If we were a boy, would Gyutaro mind if we were a guy bigger than him? something like a jojo character, but we liked to do his whims (how would he feel if we were a shorter boy too, I love details)

I tried to interpret this ask in a way that made sense to me, so I'm sorry if I interpreted it wrong. But I have been wanting to write Gyutaro x Male!reader, so I'll start with a few height difference headcanons. ♡

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐥!𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Gyutaro is a tiny little thing compared to you. Not only is he pretty short but he's also very skinny. And he absolutely hates it.

He'll go on and on about how he wishes he was tall like you and how he wishes he wasn't so damn skinny. The only way to shut him up is by grabbing him and giving him a kiss.

Don't let his size fool you though, he's feisty. Always trying to pick fights with you even though it never works. Honestly, he just wants your attention but he'd never admit that.

Gyutaro gets so flustered when you do things for him. Like getting things from high places he can't reach or carrying heavy things for him. He'll insist he can do it on his own and he doesn't need your help, but at the same time he doesn't try to stop you either.

No one has taken care of Gyutaro like you do. He feels like a prince when he's around you and he's addicted to that feeling.

Sometimes people will make comments about his small stature and it makes him feel really insecure about himself. But you never let things like this slide, always stepping in and putting bullies into their place. You're a pretty intimidating guy so people usually back off when you stand up for your boyfriend.

He pretends to get angry when he's the little spoon, but secretly he loves it and he wishes you could stay wrapped around him forever. Nothing brings him as much comfort.

𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐥!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭!𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Gyutaro is the most intimidating guy you've ever met. Not only is he really tall but he's also pretty muscular. But honestly it's mostly his personality that makes him intimidating.

You never would have imagined he'd take interest in you. But he thought you were too cute, he just couldn't help himself.

He'll often tease you for your height. His favorite thing to do is to take something you're using and hold it above your head. Grinning devilishly as he watches you jump and try to reach it - only for him to bend down and catch your lips in a kiss.

No one else dares to mess with you though. Only Gyutaro has that privilege. And if anyone else tries then he'll teach them a lesson real quick.

Gyutaro loves having you sit on his lap. At the movie theaters, on a picnic, and even at the beach. Even when you're sitting at home binging anime with him he has you sitting on his lap.

Of course Gyutaro loves to be the big spoon, having his short boyfriend lay in his arms is the best feeling ever. After a stressful day at work or school it just hits the spot.

[way-of-eywa]

Hearts in Training

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Human Reader

Wordcount: 2.998

Genre: slight angst(?), fluff

A/N: I'm just getting back into writing after a long time. Obsessed with Avatar atm, and seeing these Challenges going around sparked some inspiration, so here it is. This will be my first post on this blog and I hope it's readable and enjoyable for you guys. There will be use of (Y/N). Feel free to let me know what you think or if I'm missing something.

This is for Day 1 of the #Crybabies14DOL2024.

You were hanging out with Lo'ak on the beach near Awa'atlu village. You were lying on your back, having eyes closed and enjoying the happy squeaking sounds the Ilus made, the sound of the sea, the soft noises the waves made, crashing against high, towering cliffs. In the distance, you could hear other people talk and laugh. A smile spread on your lips.

"What you smiling at?", Lo'ak asked, curiosity swinging in the undertone. "Thinking about him?" You could hear the tease in his voice, which cracked slightly. "Huh?" was all you managed to say. You opened your eyes to your right, where your best friend sat, leaning backward and holding himself up on his elbow. "Oh, you heard me!" A smirk plastered on his face. A feeling of being caught in something [unholy, forbidden] rushed through your body. "What do you mean?" trying to play the innocent card, you sat up straight, trying to look everywhere else but at that tall blue Na'vi.

„(Y/N), really? Come on, It's obvious", he stated and sat up straight too. "The crush you have on my big brother." In protest, you gasped and quickly turned to him to talk back, but Lo'ak threw his hands up. "No allegation. Just an observation." Dang it, you thought. Was it really that obvious? You were indeed crushing on your best friend's brother, Neteyam. This fact alone already sucked, but what made it even worse was the fact that he was trying to teach you how to use a bow and some other basic hunting skills. The few lessons you already had, ever since the Sullys had moved to the East Coast, taking you with them, were tiring. Not alone the fact that aiming simply seemed like a task your brain couldn't really figure out how it was done, but also how nervous you were near him, unable to think straight or continue doing whatever task you happened to work on right before he was there.

Lost in thoughts, you stared at the ground and sighed, pulling your legs to the chest, wrapping your arms around them, and resting your chin on the knee. Finally, looking up at Lo'ak. Two of his braids were falling over his face, caused by tilting his head to the site. "Is it really that bad?" your voice was no more than a slight whisper. There was still a tiny spark of hope inside you that this wasn't the case, but the look in his big yellow eyes said enough, and he smiled apologetically. "Do you think he knows?" with a shaky voice, you asked the question that lingered on the top of your tongue. Your best friend thought about it for a second. Then he frowned and then slowly shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. He might be the older one, but not necessarily the smarter", he joked and showed his white teeth with a big grin.

Then, from one second to the next, Lo'ak's smile vanished from his face, his ears dropping a bit, his tail swayed a little less relaxed from side to side, and he looked pretty serious. "Speaking of…" Right when the boy next to you wanted to say something, you could already hear someone call for you, and that someone put a harsh tone on. "F-" You caught yourself before you started swearing. Having a relaxing time with your bestie made you forget… "Too late to run?" you breathed and didn't dare to move a single muscle as if you were the prey, trying to hide from the predator, hoping not moving made you magically invisible. "Yeah"

"(Y/N), I was looking for you everywhere!" Neteyam's husky voice was loud and clear when he came to a halt before you, blocking the sun from your sight. He slightly leaned over you and squinted his eyes in disappointment while stemming his hands on his hips.

"You're late…again", he growled, and it was easy to tell how annoyed he was. His ears were pinned against his head, and the way his tail moved furiously around. "I'm so sorry, Neteyam." Jumping to your feet, apologizing. The older one shook, barely noticeable his head and made a clicking sound with his tongue. If you had these cat-like ears and a tail, both would be as close to your body as they could be to express how bad you felt.

"I thought you wanted to learn to defend yourself and use a bow. Listen, if you don't want to learn…" - "It's my fault bro", interrupted the younger one his brother, standing up. Compared to you, a human, both were giants, yet in comparison to each other, Lo'ak was half a head smaller than Neteyam. "I was distracting her. Wanted to have a swim and needed some advice. Pressing his lips to a thin line, the older yellow eyes returned to his younger brother. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second before he turned his attention back to you, asking if you guys wanted to start training now, to which you nodded yes. Neteyam seemed to relax a bit before he nodded toward the nearby forest. "Let's go then," he said, and he started walking. You were quick to follow him, leaving Lo'ak behind. __________________________________________________

"Okay, okay. Try again! The last one wasn't that bad. You improved definitely", sending you an encouraging smile while not completely sounding sure of it. You appreciated the comforting words regarding your almost nonexistent skill of shooting an arrow. Neteyam had marked a few trees as targets with differences in height & distance. Most of the time, you missed a fairly wide range around the targets that are on focus.

He nods his head towards the target, meaning for you to shoot. You took a deep breath in, holding the bow into place. Pulling the string back, the back of your hand touching your cheek. Holding the arrow between your pointer finger and middle finger. You could feel his presence on your back and how he softly let his fingers glide over the skin of your forearm, holding the arrow in place and correcting your position. Feeling a little overwhelmed by the touch of his four-fingered hands, trying to ignore the tingling sensation that spread through your body, you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Good, just like that," he whispered in your ear. You could feel his breath on your neck and you slightly shuttered. Without realizing it, when turning your head to look at him barely, you let go of the string, and the arrow landed somewhere between two bushes.

With every missed shot, your frustration grew, and you complained about how this didn't make sense, and it was a waste of time, which wasn't helpful with the tension between the two of you. "Maybe if you would take this whole thing more seriously, practice more, and actually show up on time," he snapped back and crossed his arms over his chest while leaning against a tree behind you. Holding your stance, you turned your head back to him, eyebrows almost touching. "I am trying! As if I don't have any other things to do." Trying to defend yourself, your voice got a bit louder. Neteyam huffed, ears pointed back. "Right. Hanging out with Lo'ak must be so tiring for you that you can't take the time for practice. Poor (Y/N)", his voice oozed in sarcasm. You stared at each other with dislike, noticing how his tail infinitely wagging in every direction possible.

Your grip on the bow tightened while your stomach felt like it got eaten by a wormhole. Him pulling the Lo'ak card took you by surprise. Yes, Lo was your best friend. Yes, you did spend time with him, but you hadn't had that in a while, before that. Since Kiri had that seizure while connecting to the spirit tree in the Cove of the Ancestors, you had helped Max & Norm research the cause. Neteyam actually knew that, but apparently, he didn't care. Just as you opened your mouth to point that out, he spoke and his voice was cold and distant. "I have better things to do than trying to teach your incompetent ass something you don't seem to care about. What a waste of time." The last part was almost a whisper, as if he didn't mean to say it out loud. Shocked, your eyes open wide. Now that was really mean. The anger that had built up was instantly replaced by a stinging pain in your chest. It hit so hard that your eyes burned, and your vision blurred.

For a second, you couldn't move. Your body felt like it weighed tons, pulling towards the ground and keeping you in place. Not wanting him to see you cry and how much he just had hurt you, you let your head drop and looked somewhere else. Not really seeing much more than colored blobs. Neteyam had noticed. Yet, instead of calming down, he got more angry. Most of this was directed towards himself but he let it out on you. Partly because you were the reason why he was so frustrated. He liked you. A human, but that wasn't the problem. Even though his mother wouldn't enjoy that part. He was the oldest. He was next in line to become Olo'eyktan. He had to be this perfect son and warrior. He was expected to watch his little bro constantly and is responsible for his actions. They were like yin and yang, the complete opposite of the other. He didn't understand how and why you would enjoy time with Lo'ak more than with him. At least he tried to help you improve and learn how to survive and fight. What did Lo'ak teach you? Or was exactly that the problem?

Neteyam couldn't believe what happened and turned around and lowered his head, covering his face with one hand and rubbing his eyelids while letting out a deep breath. "What the heck, bro!?" Both of you flinched at the unexpected voice and turned in that direction. There he was; Lo'ak. He quickly glanced at you before staring furiously at his older brother. Just for a second, you wondered how much Lo'ak happened to hear, then without intention, you dropped the bow, and your short legs ran as fast as they could, away from that situation, away from him. _________________________________________________________

Not sure how long you ran, you just knew that with every second you got faster and faster, out the woods and along the beach, past the village marui. And it felt good. You didn't want to stop. The only thing that mattered now was putting one foot in front of the other. Something you could do. Moving set your mind on a break.

It only lasted so long, till you got tired & your moves got a little sloppy, resulting in stumbling over your feet and falling face-front in the sand. Heavy breathing you turned onto your back. Luckily, you had a mask for breathing, so you had no trouble with sand ending up in your nose, mouth, or eyes. The glass fogged up while your breath slowly calmed down. For a while, you just stared at the already-setting sky. Calming down, your mind started playing again and went through every word Neteyam said, the way he acted. Like you were such a pain in the ass. It was his idea to teach you. Stuff like that wasn't your thing, but it meant spending time with him, and that was something you were really interested in. If you had known that it was so hard for you to understand the basics or execute the right pose, it would be so embarrassing and humiliating for you. Not being able to concentrate cause all you could focus on was how he moved. The look in his eyes. The way he smiled, moved, talked.

The lump in your throat prevented you from taking a breath, causing you to twitch till you finally let out a loud sob, which turned into a small scream. The force it took to let that out had massive pressure on your head and eyes. Feeling like they were about to explode. __________________________________________________________

In the meantime, you weren't aware that Neteyam finally came back down to Pandora & his senses. While he usually was the taller, older one lecturing his younger brother, it was different; Neteyam shrunk a couple of inches, tail tucked between his legs, ears flat against his head. Guilt was written on his face. Lo'ak shook his head in disappointment & stood tall, head high, in front of his brother. "Why you acting like such a skxawng? What's wrong with you?"

Neteyam looked like he got a few years older in a matter of a few minutes. He let himself slide down on a tree nearby and closed his eyes. Lo'ak waited for his brother to answer his question, but he didn't plan to answer anytime soon, so he sat beside him. He wouldn't leave before he finally talked to him about it. For a few minutes, they just sat there in silence. "So?" The older one took a deep breath and opened his mouth. __________________________________________________________

The next few days, Neteyam tried to find a moment to talk to you, but you managed to stay out of his way. Every time he was close or entered the room you happened to be in, you quickly left. The talk with Lo'ak was helpful, and now he wishes to apologize. His younger brother's words lingered in his mind. "Go apologize. You seriously have to talk to her. You messed up big times."

With time passing, the motivation and optimistic view that you would forgive him and the hope that it wasn't that bad faded. He had just returned from training with his dad and was now strolling on the beach, wishing for some quiet time to think and relax. His gaze was directed towards the ocean. He missed his home, the forest, the Omaticaya clan but he had to admit that it wasn't that bad here. His feet carried him to the cave where you, the sully, and Metkayina kids used to hang out a while ago when everything and everyone were still on somewhat good terms.

Lost in thoughts he didn't notice that someone was already hanging out there. Only when he was standing right in front of that person, you. It took him a minute to realize you were actually sitting there, and he wasn't imagining that cause if that was the case, you would look more happy. Not having such puffy, red eyes. Your face was swollen from dehydration, which was a result of your constant and unstoppable crying sessions. You still felt miserable ever since the argument.

On the other hand, you had noticed Neteyam right away when he entered the cave. Yet you didn't show any signs of trying to leave as quickly as before, yet you turned away from facing Neteyam. Without saying a word he sat down next to you. No one said anything for a while until a breathy "I'm so sorry" left his lips. Waiting for him to continue, you sat silently, taking a deep breath. "I was frustrated and let it out on you. I'm sorry. What I said was wrong. It's just that.. that I'm.." He struggled with finding the right words. He closed his eyes briefly, fiddling with his fingers before looking at you. "I fell in love with you and got jealous about being so good friends with Lo'ak and spending so much time with him."

Surprised, your lips parted a bit, and you quickly shot a quick gaze at him. Was he serious? Your heartbeat made a jump. You stared at him. He stared back at you. "Really?" questioning, you raised your eyebrows. He gulped and nodded slightly. Feeling ashamed of opening up and telling you how he truly felt, he quickly guided his eyes to the horizon where it was about to dawn. "I thought when I help you train, we could spend time together and show you how I feel about you. But you seemed to care less and less about it."

"Well… I was excited at first, but then you got meaner and stressed about taking the time for that when I clearly don't have the skill to perform", you answered honestly. "Being around you makes me nervous and it seems like I'm not good and…" Your voice was shaky. "You know, we used to be friends too, but then you had so much training and were focused on that. So I agreed to the training with you, to spend more time with you."

Trying to make eye contact, you leaned forward to gather his attention. He finally looked back at you. "I know… I'm sorry." apologizing again, he picked his skin on his finger. Seeing how nervous he was right now, you slowly put your hands on his to stop him from doing that. A soft smile appeared on your lips, which Neteyam returned. "I didn't mean to neglect our friendship." His voice sounded husky. The stare between your eyes got deeper and longer, and without you guys noticing, your faces got closer. "I'm sorry," he whispered slowly while intertwining your fingers with his. His tail softly tapping your leg. Your cheeks turn into a soft pink. "Stop apologizing. I got it", you said in a jokingly serious tone.

"How about we do something tomorrow.. something fun" he burst out. "As friends," he added and slightly squeezed your hand. The soft smile on your lips grew, and you nodded. "That sounds good," you replied back. "What do you have in mind?" Now it was his smile that grew a bit devilish. "You'll see," was all he replied, his tail wagging more in excitement. There wasn't much space between your faces by now; only your mask kept some space between your faces.

[writersblockiskillingme]

Lilith | Finnick Odair

Pairing: Finnick Odair x fem!reader (District 4!reader)

Summary: The life of a Victor took a big tool on you, but you're not alone.

Warning/s: +18!, angst, sex trafficking, forced prostitution, trauma, just a bit of fluff (maybe), a little bit of pinning, some curse words (one or two), mentions of sexual activities, light smut at the end (not to explicit, but it's there), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Been obsessed with this song lately, so here you go. I can't believe I never wrote for Finnick, this is a crime. Also, I skipped some parts of the song.

I'm perfection when it comes to first impressions

Well, I romanticize and then I get to stressing

A big brain like I'm teaching it a lesson

Baby, it's a blessing, yeah

The music was too fucking loud.

Finnick found himself gently tugging at the edge of his, what felt like too tight, suit. He felt like he was walking on fire with every step that he took just so he could arrive to yet another party held at the Capitol. Everyone important was going to be there.

The rich, spoiled Capitol's elite who will be thirsting over every attractive Victor there, including him. Especially him.

Even president Snow will be there. He, who is the reason this is happening to almost half of the Victors. The ones who were here for a while like him and new toys who just won. Like you.

Finnick found himself shivering a little bit at the mere thought of the new District 4 female Victor. You, who just won your games by not drowning in the lake like the rest of the tributes that year. You were certainly lucky, Finnick told you that a lot. It was true, of course. You were lucky that you came from District 4 so you knew your way in the water. Otherwise, you would be a gonner.

Finnick felt his throat tightening and his stomach doing a flip once he remembered you. His tribute. His victor. His secret crush.

He knew that he reached for a glass of their finest alcohol a bit too fast, practically at the moment he showed up. God knows he'll need it in him once you show up.

And you did. You showed up in all of your glory.

Your hair was let down, slowly trailing behind you as you walked, clearly a fake smile placed on your gorgeous face. Finnick Odair knew that it was fake. It didn't reach your eyes. Plus you didn't have that glint in your eyes. The glint that you usually wore around the heartthrob from District 4. The dress that you wore was too much for him. It was long enough to be trailing behind you on the ground as you wore, but he felt like it left little to nothing to the imagination. The naked dress that you wore was no doubt beautiful, but it scared him so much that he had no choice but to drown the liquid in his glass all at once, leaving it empty.

"Odair." You suddenly appeared next to him, ordering yourself a drink, bartenders gaze lingering on you a bit to long for Finnick's liking.

"Stunning as always, (L/N)." He replied holding your gaze, the straight tequila still burning a little in his throat.

"You're not two bad yourself." You noticed the edge in his voice and a slight panic, maybe even a hint of regret in his eyes, as you had this conversation with your handsome mentor. "Luckily for them." You barely nodded your head in the direction of the Capitol's elite, nobody noticed it. But he did. Of course he did. He always does.

Finnick found himself once again drowning the hot alcohol from another glass as he felt the dread eating him alive. It was bad enough that he found himself in the situation that he was in, but Snow doing it to you too was simply too much.

And as he turned his head a little to look at the Capitol's elite he watched them looking at you and himself like the two District 4 Victors were a piece of meat. He knew at that moment that it was going to be a long night.

For both of you.

You got me thinking that I was too mean

Well, everything that I say I believe

Tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve and

Change like a season

Reason for nothing

I am disruptive

I've been corrupted

And by now I don't need a fucking introduction

I've been gone

'Cause I been on this road too long

It was a gloomy day at District 4. The wind was blowing the leaves around as it went, it was also touching the sea, the waves all over it. The lighting cracked somewhere in the distance, but it was loud enough to startle you.

You were sitting by the window of your house in the Victor's Village watching the gloomy clouds that piled up in the middle of the already dark sky mocking you.

Nature truly had a funny, mocking even, way of reflecting the life of the person.

The never-ending stream of tears continued to slide down both of your cheeks as your gace subconsciously traveled over to Finnick's house.

The light shirt that barely covered the rest of your body suddenly felt too tight. Your hair was a mess. It was blocking the way of you seeing the plate of fresh cookies that Mags gave you in the morning. They were delicious, you tried a few, but now they were just sitting untouched at the top of your kitchen counter.

Your gaze was still frozen onto Finnick's house as you thought of him.

You loved him so much you felt like your heart was going to explode.

Your thoughts were running a mile, your heart couldn't keep up with it. He was simply breathing, absolutely perfect. In a deeply sad way you understood why Snow was selling him. Who wouldn't want him? But your heart broke every time you thought of him like that.

A few days ago you saw him leaving his house, he had to leave the District to go to the Capitol to attend to some urgent matters. Yeah, right.

You had to hold your ground to not just run after him. Mags would kill you, you knew that for sure. She was already doing everything in her power to protect you both from the sex trafficking as much as she possibly could. But you knew that you would bring her and Annie in danger if you did anything reckless so you stayed put.

You stayed away from Finnick. As much as you could.

For a little while you stared to ignore him. It didn't work. He was pushing it and you exploded. You just wanted to keep him safe, as much as you could. That is why you did what you did.

That is why you told him that you love someone else. Even though for you there was no one else. You knew that Snow would punished all of you if he found out that you loved him. What he did to Finnick was already a nightmare scenario, a nightmare scenario that didn't avoid you.

You tried to sleep, but you had yet another nightmare about your time serving the needs of the wealthy people of the Capitol and you broke down.

Now as you longingly looked at the house of your love and as you cried you felt like you were suffocating.

As you lifted your arm to whipe away the tears stains on your cheek your shirt rose up a bit showcasing the bruises on your legs. A reminder that you were not good enough for anyone. Let alone a kind and gentle soul like Finnick was.

Now I'm wondering if I ever wanted to hold you

It never mattered if I owned you

'Cause you'd let anybody with a body control you

And you know it too

A knock on your door in the middle of the night startled you to no end. You rubbed your eyes a little bit, trying to get rid of the sleepiness that still lingered.

Your plain white T-shirt felt like another skin glued tightly to your body from the sweat in which you woke up from yet another horrifying nightmare that was caused by the memories from your time in the arena. You knew that it would haunt you forever.

You dragged your feet across the hard wooden floor in your new home. After what felt like an eternity, you finally reached the door. You placed your hand on the door handle, the coldness of it sending shivers down your spine as you opened the door.

You felt a gasp getting stuck in your throat as you saw the person standing right outside your door.

Finnick.

"You can't do this to me." Finnick said lowly, his tone dripping with agony and something else that you couldn't quite put a finger on. "How dare you say what you said?"

"Finnick..." you started to say. "I-"

"Do you not love me?" You felt yourself freeze as he said that.

He got a little closer to you. The shirt and jeans that he wore were completely soaked from the rain outside. The rain that the storm brought. You felt like you couldn't breathe. The only sound that reached your ears was the sound of the waves crashing onto the rocks by the coast.

"You- you now how I feel about you, Finnick." You stuttered out as you said it, feeling very self-conscious at that moment.

"I don't think that I do." He leaned his head down, the raindrops that took their place in his dirty blonde locks sliding down onto your face. "I poured my heart out to you."

"Finn-"

"I told you that I loved you." Finnick said, slowly backing you up against your own door. "Yet you said nothing back."

"I..." you stuttered, thankful for the darkness outside that covered up the blush that made itself known on your cheeks. "Finnick, I can't..."

"Just say something!" He grabbed your shoulder, rising his voice as he gripped you a little firmly, but not enough to hurt you as he shook you a little trying to get you to say something that will make sense. "If you don't love me back just say it. Break my heart so that I can finally know if all of this was worth it."

"I told you already." Your voice continued to shake even though you tried to appear calm. "You know how I feel about you."

"So you do love me after all."

"I told you. You know-"

"Why can't you just say that you love me." The look that Finnick gave you just continued to break your heart. His grip was stills tight as you spoke.

"I want to protect you, Finnick." You told him, your breath getting caught in your throat. "That's why I can't say anything."

"Than show it to me."

You got me feeling like I been too mean

And everything that I say I believe

Tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve

And fuck like a demon

Do it like nothin'

I am disgustin'

I've been corrupted

And by now I don't need no help to be destructive

I've been gone

Yeah, I've been on this road too long

The raindrops continued to knock against the window of your bedroom, the moonlight that barely made itself present because of the thick dark clouds was the only sorce of light in your house expect for the fire that burned in your fireplace in the living room behind the closed doors.

Finnick hovered above you in the bed as the lightning cracked somewhere in the sky brought you comfort.

You were once again covered in a thin layer of sweat because of the intense heat not because of the fire, but because of the heat that Finnick was providing as he rocked slowly into you, reaching deeper that you thought was even possible.

Your hand scratched lightly on his back as he gripped your hips a little bit, staying on top of you while making sure that he doesn't crush you with his weight.

You could practically feel his hot breath near your face as he marked your neck relentlessly.

The only sound in your room were the ones that you two were making.

You reveled in his gasps and you were sure that he did the same with your continuous moans. His forehead leaned against yours, both of you trying to catch your breaths as you kept up the rhythm that Finnick set.

It was just the two of you. No people from the Capitol, no pressure. No constant praying eyes that were watching your every move. No one had to know about this but you two.

You were glad. Because you never felt safer in your entire life than at this moment, foreheads and lips pressed against each other, giving all of your love to each other.

One thing was for sure, you would kill anyone who used Finnick against his will... only if you could.

The more that you give away

The more that you have

More that you give away

More that you have

The more that you give away

The more that you have

The more that they take

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@randomgurl2326 @caroline-books @hellonheels-x @livingdead-reilly @thecrowdedstreetin1944