#maybe someday I’ll clean it up more

[depression-napping]

HC from all the reactions to Vincent's new outfits in EC that in-universe he will do something innocuous like take off a glove and everyone reacts to it like he's doing something provocative

bonus points if he like removes it with his teeth or a finger at a time

naturally, the girls are taking bets whether or not he's noticed how other people react to him and is deliberately playing it up

or if he's completely oblivious and just does things That Way, assuming people stare at him because he's a monster or something and not because they want to climb him like a tree

Anon I love your headcannon so much I had to draw it

Yuffie: He totally knows what he’s doing!

Aeris: Are you sure though? I think he’s oblivious. He didn’t bat an eye at all those people trying to flirt with him in Costa del Sol

Tifa: I’m gonna go with oblivious

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Reader goes on a beach vacation with Joel after her father breaks his leg. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: The devil works fast but I work faster. New multi chapter smut fic inspired by those damn new Pedro pics in the works…enjoy part 1! I haven't planned all of the smut scenes, so if you have any requests for specific kinks/scenes, do let me know!

He’s dead fucking wrong. You love your father, enough to not immediately say no, but he’s wrong. It’s true you could use a girls’ trip, perhaps even a couple of days out of town with your Dad, and he’s not entirely off about university being the death of you, kiddo – you’ve spent one too many nights inhaling coffee and cramming for your finals. The idea of an all-inclusive trip is tempting, given the fact that all you manage to eat these days is pasta and store-bought pesto, if that.

Nevertheless, you need to keep studying, there’s less than two weeks left until your exams, and although the trip is only a couple of days, you don’t know Joel.

Sure, you’ve been to his barbecues, and he let you use his bike one year when yours was stolen and your Dad refused to buy you a new one, because you should have locked it up in the first place. You know how he patched up your Dad after the divorce – you never worried about your mother, who was heartbroken, but able to talk about it to her family and friends. Your Dad was the one you spent sleepless nights over. The way the beer bottles accumulated in his garage, how distant he seemed on the phone. You know it was Joel who looked after him, made sure he left the house and had anything edible inside it. You’re grateful for it, you are, but you don’t really know him. For most of your life, he has been a friendly smile and wave over a fence, and you’re shy around people you know much better than the occasional hey kid, you back for the summer? or if you see your Dad, tell him I borrowed his screwdriver, I’ll put it back tomorrow.

You do feel slightly guilty your Dad can’t go on his trip. He broke his leg, and although it’s not entirely your fault he slipped, you had been the one to mop the stairs right before the accident. As much as your Dad was looking forward to his vacation, after a week he had to admit a beach holiday would be little fun with a whole leg in plaster.

You sigh, staring at your phone screen, tapping on it every once in a while to keep it from turning black. He’s expecting an answer soon, you know he is. Who the hell books non-refundable trips anyway? When you get the time, you’ll need to tell him about a lovely invention that is insurance.

You glance over at the stack of unfinished coursework on your desk, your laptop taunting you with its quiet – no responses to the millions of job applications you have sent out have come through. At this rate, you’ll be jobless in a couple of months, when you finish your degree. You’ll have to live with either of your parents forever, no money for any sort of vacation whatsoever.

"Oh, screw it,“ you mutter, unlocking your phone, and typing quickly.

I’ll do it. Only because my A+ cleaning is the reason you can’t go. Tell Joel to bring something to read, I need to study.

***

"It’d be a shame if it went to waste, kiddo, I’m glad you’re doing this.“

"Yeah,“ you answer, thinking of the endless powerpoint slides you haven’t even looked at yet. "Maybe studying at the beach works wonders.“

There’s a knock on the door, and you move to open it, your Dad chained to his chair by his broken leg. You’re not particularly excited about the smalltalk you’ll have to make with your Dad’s friend, but if you remember correctly, Joel is as much the quiet type as you are, and might actually appreciate your studying. Great, you think, at least one of us will enjoy it, then.

When you open the door, the first thing that strikes you is how hard you find it to envision Joel at the beach – he’s all mountains and trees to you, with his lumberjack boots and flannel shirt. His smile is friendly, and only gains warmth when he notices the critical look you give his outfit.

"I know,“ he says, voice deep and quiet, "I’m king of dressing for the occasion.“

You grin, and open the door wider.

"Come on in. Dad’s in the living room. What’s with the…uh…“

Your voice trails off, as you gesture towards his distinctly un-vacationy clothes.

"Thought you might bail,“ Joel answers easily, stepping into the house. "Can’t imagine you’re overly thrilled about this.“

You think about denying it, but this is your chance to come clean about how you would much prefer keeping to yourself and preparing for your finals, so you sigh.

"Well, it’s kinda my fault Dad was, like, almost paralyzed from the neck down, so I figured the least I could do was not let his trip go to waste. I’ve got finals in two weeks, so the timing is…suboptimal.“

"Yeah, your Dad said. I brought reading material, so I won’t bother you too much.“

He’s easy, you realize. Easy to talk to, and easy to accept your reluctance to bond with an almost-stranger, quick to make you feel comfortable by hinting at that boundary. You smile back, and are struck by how he holds your eye contact until you break it yourself, nodding towards your suitcase.

"Think this will fit inside the car?“

"Sure,“ he answers, "I’ve got a Bronco.“

You have no idea what that means, but you assume it’s a good thing, so you smile vaguely.

"It’s an SUV,“ Joel explains with a hint of good-natured amusement in his voice.

"Right,“ you say, attempting to overplay your obvious lack in car-knowledge, "SUV. One of the big ones.“

It makes Joel smile again, and you notice the wrinkles around his eyes that make his face look all sunny. 

"Yeah,“ he says. "One of the big ones.“

You lead him into the living room to say good-bye to your Dad, who’s expression is a weird mixture of sombre and excited at the sight of his daughter and best friend getting ready to drive to the airport.

"Take care of her, Joel,“ he says, when you’re getting ready to leave.

"Don’t worry,“ Joel answers with a pat to your father’s arm. "I’ve got her.“

"I’m twenty-three,“ you remind your father, "I’ve done more dangerous things than a trip to the beach.“

"Yeah, but you’re still my little girl,“ he answers with a smile, squeezing your hand. You squeeze back, though his comment irritates you.

"See ya, Dad. Call me if something’s wrong with your leg, alright?“

"Sure, kiddo. Have fun, you two, and bring me a seashell.“

Joel grins at the open envy on your Dad’s face.

"We’ll go on another trip next year,“ he says in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Yeah, yeah,“ your Dad answers, glancing at his watch. "Better get going, or you’ll miss the flight.“

"We’ll be fine, Joel’s got a fast car,“ you argue, "A Bronco. That’s an SUV.“

Joel snorts.

***

Joel lets you take the window seat and plops down next to you, legs slightly spread so as to fit into the little space the two of you have. His leg nudges yours, and he pulls it back immediately, though you can see how uncomfortable it must be with his knees pressing into the seat in front of him. You move your legs towards the window with a glance at Joel, who looks grateful and is able to relax his muscles into a more comfortable position without invading your space.

"Thanks,“ he mutters, "Fucking hate flying.“

So do you, though not because you’re too big to fit into the space, and not because you’re afraid – mostly because it’s boring. Sure, takeoff is exciting, but you get nauseous from watching movies and the plane is much too loud to really enjoy your music the way you would lying on your bed at home. You could study, you suppose, but you tell yourself you wouldn’t be able to concentrate and kick your backpack further under your seat. Joel notices and chuckles.

"Finals, huh? You almost done with your degree?“

You can’t imagine him finding your boring university struggles interesting, but you’re not exactly fantastic at smalltalk, so you take the conversation he’s offering you.

"I’ve got one more year, but I’ve got to do a six month internship, and write my thesis, so yeah, this is, like, the last of my regular classes and exams.“

"You enjoy it?“

The question is strikingly honest, like he really wants to know, like it’s fine if you don’t. You look at him, his eyes already on your face, and for a second you think how handsome he is. You didn’t notice before, when he was just the owner of a bike you could conveniently borrow, when life was all skinned knees and staying up till sun-down. Now, he looks like an equal, like someone who wants to know about your life, someone you want to know about yourself. The change is a little unsettling, but thrilling. You realize you haven’t answered him, so you clear your throat.

"Sure, it’s alright. Not what I would have done if money didn’t matter, but it does, so…I can be content with it.“

Joel considers this, eyes still lingering on your face, as the plane starts speeding up for takeoff.

"What would you do if money didn’t matter?“

You shrug, and smile to yourself.

"Creative writing, maybe. Or English lit.“

"You always were the smart one in your family,“ Joel answers with a chuckle.

You glance at him, and feel a pang of something warm in your stomach as he compliments you. When the plane takes off, you look out of the window, but get the feeling Joel’s eyes keep looking at you. It makes your skin prickle, though not at all unpleasantly.

***

You get to the hotel when the sun is high in the sky, burning the top of your head and making you long for a shower and an ice-cold coke. Joel courteously carries your suitcase and although you don’t want to inconvenience him, you don’t mind the way his muscles bulge under the weight, arms straining against the navy shirt he had underneath his flannel. You wonder how he’s not suffocating in the heat, wearing his thick jeans and boots.

When you get to the front desk, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, searching for his reservation details with furrowed brows. You smile when you notice he uses two hands to scroll. It takes him a couple of minutes, cursing under his breath, and you smile at the lady, who smiles back, patiently waiting for Joel to find the right email.

"Sorry,“ you say to her, and try to catch a glimpse at Joel’s phone, so as to figure out what’s taking him so long. "Need some help?“

He throws you an offended look that makes you grin, and finally shows the lady his phone. She smiles, types something into her computer and gets out two room keys.

"Go easy on your Daddy, it’s easier when you grew up with the internet,“ she says, handing you each a keycard. You feel Joel stiffen beside you, and your stomach flutters.

"Here’s your keycards, you’re on the third floor. Enjoy your stay!“

"Thanks,“ Joel mumbles, taking the cards and handing them to you, before grabbing the two suitcases. He huffs, when you walk around a corner and towards the elevators.

"She was makin’ fun of me,“ he says accusingly when the lady is out of earshot, as if that would be your fault. You snort, all of a sudden feeling giddy at the prospect of being at the beach soon, your holiday only a couple of minutes away.

"I don’t think so, she was trying to help you by blaming your incompetence on your age,“ you say, Joel looking at you like he can’t believe what you said.

"Sorry.“ Your voice is quivering with amusement at how offended he is. "Daddy.“

That makes him clear his throat, and if your eyes aren’t playing a trick on you, his cheeks turn a shade darker. Bingo.

"Don’t say shit like that,“ Joel grumbles, "’M not that old.“

"How old are you, then?“

"Why?“, he asks, eyes meeting yours, and suddenly you’re the one blushing, your stomach swirling with something you definitely should not be feeling for your Dad’s best friend. Joel shakes his head. "Don’t start something neither of us can finish, kid.“

It’s just an offhand-comment about the way you jokingly flirted, but you feel all bashful all of a sudden. His mention of there being something to potentially start, the fact that the possibility even crossed his mind…when you look up at him again and watch him press a button on the elevator, you study the grey patches in his beard, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches as you’re waiting, his thick fingers drumming against the handle of his suitcase. It’s not what you expected to happen, but Joel’s got you intrigued.

***

You both agree to take a shower, get settled in and meet outside the rooms in half an hour – they’re neighboring, so it’s not far. You’re too lazy to properly unpack, so you just grab a bikini and a comfortable white sundress to change into after your shower. The water is welcome on your skin, washing away the grit and sweat of the hours spent on the plane, and you feel like a new person when you step out of the bathroom. You put on sandals and a pair of sunglasses, grab sunscreen, your books and notes for class, and a bottle of water, and throw it all into your beach bag, then head for the door. Joel is already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite your door wearing a different shirt, red swimming trunks and dark sunglasses. He’s got a towel thrown over his shoulder and you grin.

"Raw-dogging the beach?“, you ask, which makes him furrow his brows.

"The hell does that mean?“

You snort at his obvious annoyance at your innuendo.

"It means you’re only bringing a towel, nothing to entertain yourself with,“ you explain, gesturing towards your bag. Joel shakes his head, still frowning.

"I’m going to the beach, not the library,“ he answers, and starts walking towards the elevators, his flip-flops making their soft sound on the floor. Your gaze flickers down towards his legs, his swimming trunks revealing tan thighs.

"Comin’?“

You swallow, and catch up with him.

***

He’s fucking gorgeous. It’s a problem, how gorgeous he is, tan torso, swimming trunks low on his hips, bits of dark hair scattered across his chest and soft belly. His shoulders are wide, like they were made for swimming, his hair glistening as he shakes like a wet dog when he comes up for air. You have been staring at the same page for far too long now, but there’s no way Joel is able to notice your staring, not when you’re wearing your sunglasses and he’s busy swimming.

You know it’s a bad idea, that there’s no good that can come from crushing on a man twice your age, more than that, even. You know he must surely see the girl who came over to borrow his bike with tears of anger in her eyes every time he looks at you, and you know how much he respects your father.

Still, you are allowed to have fun. You’re doing this for your Dad more than anything, and you’ve been bending over backwards trying to make him proud with your good grades, so if there’s something you’re able to get out of this trip, you figure you’re at least allowed to look. And anyway, it’s not hurting anyone. It’s just natural, the half-naked bodies and blissful relaxation would affect anyone who has spent the last four months cramped up in a little dorm room.

You watch Joel swim towards the beach again, rising out of the water like some sort of Poseidon sent to personally make this trip unbearable for you. You think of his reaction when you teasingly called him Daddy, and swallow.

"Fuck,“ you mumble to yourself, when he tugs on his swimming trunks so that they don’t slide over his hips, dripping water onto the dry sand all around him. He smiles at you as he makes his way over to your spot – two deckchairs shielded by a parasol.

"Wow,“ Joel says sarcastically, when he looks at your book, still on page two. "Real page turner, huh?“

You blush, and open your mouth to defend yourself, but Joel’s expression softens, all biting humor gone, as he grabs his towel.

"You’re allowed to take a break from studying, you know?“

You watch him dry himself off, big hands rubbing the towel over his chest and stomach, leaving his legs to dry on their own, as he lays down on his deckchair.

"Easy to say, you’re not the one who has to face my Dad if you fail all your exams.“

Joel turns his head towards you, and you’re struck by how gentle his expression is.

"I know he can be a hard ass, but I guarantee you you’re not goin’ to fail all your exams, kid.“

You sigh and shrug.

"He give you a hard time ’cause of your grades?“

"No,“ you answer quickly, all of a sudden feeling defensive of your father. "I just wanna…make him proud.“

Joel smiles.

"I know for a fact you’re doin’ that without even tryin’. And anyway, it’s good to take breaks. Let’s your brain cool off and absorb information much better afterwards.“

Can’t argue with that logic, you think and close your book with a thud. Joel grabs it from you and throws it into your beach bag.

"I grant you two hours of studying each day,“ he says, and you have to laugh. "The rest is for having fun, gettin’ tan and drinkin’ cocktails."

It’s preposterous, that he would order you around like that after you told him you need to study, back before you even made it to the airport. But something is different here, away from your desk, and your Dad’s broken leg (and the rest of him, for that matter). Joel and you have fallen into an easy dynamic, and although it’s unusual, your reservations are gone. You’re actually looking forward to spending time with him, and not just because of the way his belly nudges against the waistband of his swimming trunks, or how his accent seems to thicken in the sun.

"Fine,“ you say, "but you’re paying for my tuition if I do end up failing, Miller.“

He grins at you.

[writingmeraki]

men on a mission.

a kim mingyu drabble !

pairing : secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship ( they are married lmao )

genre : fluff. few rotten tooth worthy fluff.

warnings : kissing and mentions of alcohol/drunkness.

author's note : well. i was inspired by a sort of dream i had abt mingyu and this sprouted out of it lmao. i rlly do hope it makes sense <3 i kinda wanna make this a fic someday but i have too much shit on my hands rn so take this instead :D also unkept, unsaid,ugly emotions other units will be coming soon and maybe something for enha too cause it's been a HOTTT minute ☝️!!

sp. dt to my svt luvr moots 🩷!! @blue-jisungs ; @shuamorollss ; @odxrilove ; @flwoie ; @strxwberry-skiess ; @bambikisss ; @enluv !!!! ( this is my small attempt at showing y'all i am alive and do think of you guys everytime i open this app :( love u all even those who aren't mentioned ! )

word count : 0.9k

small drabble in the same universe ( continuation if you wish ) !!

Mission be darned, you may just get exempted due to murdering your assigned partner.

“Mingyu! Can you please stop drinking!?” 

You were sure your forehead might have become red from the amount of times you've been rubbing it and you can feel the grey hair seeping through.

Glaring at said man as he downed probably the fifth shot of some combo of liquor, you turned your attention to the bartender.

His eyes widened as he gulped in slight fear from the anger radiating in your gaze.

“I told you to stop. No more drinks for him.” 

You said calmly as he quickly nodded his head and went in a rush to clean the already cleaned up counter for the second time, finding it better to be anywhere but near a furious person.

He knew what he was paid was not worth getting into an argument about how customer service is the top thing and all that. 

“Loosen up! Have some fun babyyy!” His words slurred towards the end and you had to stop yourself from grinning at his words. You rolled your eyes at his words before hissing out lowly towards him,

“We are not supposed to have fun, if you remember, we’re here to collect some information!” You were whisper yelling at this point but you doubt anyone would hear you anyways from the loud music playing in the club which was already giving you a headache. 

“ ‘s fine~”

“I’ll get it out some other time, just relax yeah? It’s been a while since we went out.” 

Sighing at his words, you avoided looking at his face. You knew damn well he had that specific look. The look when he really wanted something from you which you weren’t agreeing on. You think it’s his eyes that get to you every damn time. 

Suddenly, he moved from his position and clinged to your arm, almost making you fall off the bar stool as he scooted closer with his, making a screeching sound that would have made you cringe if it weren’t for the fact you were trying not to fall over from the sudden weight added.

“Mingyu!” You yelped as you moved your right arm around him, trying to hold him as support,which was another mission in itself considering how broad his shoulders were. 

His face plopped itself on your shoulder, cheek smothered on it as he spoke, “You’re so warm, always are warm.”

You suppose he was somewhat fulfilling the actual mission you’d come for, which was acting like a couple in love as bait to get some information on a group that was specifically targeting couples for their acts and scams. 

“Uhm, are you alright?” You turned to the concerned bartender, who had immediately turned towards you once again when he heard your shocked yelp from before. 

“If he’s bothering you, I can call security.”

You rolled your eyes, for probably the nth time that night, murmuring under your breath how if he hadn’t given him the shots, he wouldn’t act that way.

“No it’s fine- he gets…clingy when he’s out of it.” 

“Gyu?” The coldness of the ring on your ring finger touched his cheek which made him slightly wake up from almost dozing off as you had turned your attention away from him.

The ring didn’t go unnoticed to the bartender as he nodded at you and went about his business. 

Turns out your mission was already halfway complete because you didn’t really need to fake being a couple, after all being married for six years is probably as real as it could get. 

“You’re so pretty, wanna marry you and just be with you~” 

You couldn’t stop the giggle now, your eyes sparkling underneath the club lights as you rubbed his cheek in adoration.

Well what was the point of trying to accomplish the mission anyways? You knew you would be able to get the information through other ways, so you might as well just 'have fun' as your actual partner ( for life ) said right?

Your anger was considerably simmered since it had occurred to you, it had been an actual while since you went out with him. Even if he was your husband, it was tough to get free time when you were both the best at your agency. 

“Well I think you’ve already accomplished that yeah baby?” You don’t think you’ll ever get over how your stomach feels like butterflies are roaming around when he grins at you the way he is at the moment. 

You’ll definitely never get over how he always and always looks at you like you hung up every star in the universe just for him to gaze at in awe. He looks at you, always did as if you held all the answers to his questions and perhaps in a sense you did. You were his everything, all the answers and all the stars. 

“I love you.” Your cheeks were probably hurting from grinning so much, you could never be angry at him. 

You moved your face a little closer to his, pecking his nose and pulling back,

“I do too. I mean I don’t think I'd have kept up with your annoying ass for the past almost decade if I didn’t.”

Before he could go on a rant about how mean you were being, you moved again, placing your lips on his, effectively shutting him up as his hazy brain tried to comprehend his long time–lifetime– crush kissing him. 

He would never get used to how you would make him feel like he’s a giddy boy in love all over again just from your mere actions. He’s probably been in love a trillion times by now but just with you and only you. 

Mission be darned, if he could have you like this at the end of the day, he doesn’t think he’ll ever regret anything. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !

[milktrician]

For the wip game, "Your shadow beckons me" ?

This one covers two wips I have but they both center around Shen Yuan being a clone of Shen Jiu, being cloned while he was in Qiu Manor. I might write both of these ideas out someday? This first one covers the idea while in the Qing generation's disciple era:

Shen Yuan wakes to that same young man from before staring at his face. His handsome face is covered in tears, the skin under his eyes flushed and nose rubbed red.

“A-Apologies. Visiting hours are over but Mu-shidi allowed me to stay.” The guy states as he cleans his face with a handkerchief. He takes in a long deep breath before he is able to look at Shen Yuan once more, “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. This one is named Yue Qingyuan by his Shizun.”

“…I look like your friend. Don’t I? That’s why you’re here?”

Honestly he just wants this guy to not cry over him. Seriously, huh? Don’t grieve over him, grieve somewhere else man!

Yue Qingyuan lets out a defeated laugh,

“I suppose so.”

He sits up, noticing the book across his blankets he probably passed out reading.

“Don’t compare me. I don’t think that’s good for your head.”

Yue Qingyuan takes a sharp breath, “Sorry.”

He sighs, “I suppose I should be thanking you though. Aren’t you the one who led them to me?”

“Not to you directly. I was looking for someone else.” Yue Qingyuan seems to frown.

He shrugs at the phrasing, “Hey, you’re still the reason I’m here. You basically saved me, huh? I’d probably be rotting in that plant pod thing and maybe never developed some consciousness. I’m alive because you got to me in time.”

He smiles, because it feels like the right thing to do.

Yue Qingyuan only seems to stare at him, newly formed tears streaming down his cheeks. What the hell he thought he was doing a good thing! Dude, stop crying!

“Hey—don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

He grabs the discarded handkerchief and pushes Yue Qingyuan’s hands out of the way to wipe the man’s face like you would do for a young kid. The guy accepts his touch, visibly slumping in his seat. It takes a few minutes for him to calm down, before he stands and collects himself.

Yue Qingyuan opens the door, turning behind him and muttering, “Apologies for bothering you. I’ll leave you be.” 

“…Okay? Uh, see you later, I guess?”

Yue Qingyuan bites his lip, but leaves nonetheless.

Next snippet is from the other wip of this idea, probably a little bit before pre-canon:

Shen Qingqiu didn’t know what he was doing when he accepted a mission in this city. Perhaps it was the way Yue Qingyuan looked at him during the meeting. Or the way that brute taunted him, or the way Shang Qinghua tried to take the mission off him instead. Who knows why that coward would try his hand at investigating this mess.

But said mess had been dealt with by his senior disciples, and they had a night at the inn to recuperate before heading back to the sect in the morning.

And here he was. Only a short flight away from what used to be a sprawling manor outside the city.

Lazy bastards never even cleaned up the burnt mess, instead it seemed picked clean by animals and looters. The wood that’s left has rotted, and flora have taken the rest of the space for themselves to conquer.

The smell of ash still somehow permeates as he walks along the remains, leaving a mental note to clean all this off of his robes before daylight. What’s left of the structure of the rooms and hallways all seems so small now. Standing tall amongst its remains.

And then his boots press onto metal, a soft clang that alerts him to a hatch hidden under debris. A place possibly untouched after all these years.

He remembers a hatch like this. Briefly.

He was drugged, his vision going in and out as he was carried someplace else. He remembers it smelled musty. Like the earth after it rains. Afterwards all he could feel was a burning sensation in what he now knows is his spiritual veins.

In a fluid motion he clears the debris with qi and throws the hatch open, not caring for the way it dirties his robes as he climbs down. He finds more overgrowth, weeds and plants similar to those outside. They’re different from the local flora he realizes, and must have spread out of this man-made cave.

He feels the massive pool of spiritual energy first before Xiu Ya glows to light the cavern. There, he sees its source. A large plant pod, bigger than any flower or fruit he has ever seen. It’s filled with a mass of spiritual energy, almost as if this plant has cultivated itself on its own. Its roots have spread all across the room and dug through the ground and stone to reach the surface to gather more nutrients.

He moves closer. The qi signature feels so familiar. He closes his eyes as he places a hand on the pod, and the qi begins entering and cleansing his system without resistance.

It feels like…

Him.

Focusing on cycling his qi back into the plant he almost freezes when it enters a system of spiritual veins. When he feels soft breathing through the pod. A heart beat.

His hands tear open the pod, fighting against the sticky substance that’s been holding it together for more than a decade. It spills out onto the floor, viscous, and all of a sudden his arms have encased the figure falling out of its prison.

There’s a young child in his arms, only slightly older than his youngest disciples. His hair only barely touches his back, limbs thin, and uncovered by cloth in this time are the ribs poking through his skin.

The same scars echo on this child's back.

The branding is clear as day.

This is him.

[f6bron]

sequoia.

pairing : iso x gn!reader

notes : mutual pining ? i’ll let the audience decide , might be ooc since i wrote this based on all of his available voicelines so far ( . — . )

The echoing clang of bullets hitting metal targets reverberated through the shooting range as you took aim alongside Iso, the new recruit to the Valorant Protocol. You’d been itching to get to know him better, and what better way to break the ice then some target practice?

“Clean shot! I should let Chamber know he has a rival now.”

Iso shrugged and chuckled, as an acknowledgement to your compliment.

“So, Iso… I heard you isolate your enemy into that domain of yours? Interesting…” you remarked, keeping your eyes trained on the target as you shot a bullet straight to the head.

Iso nodded shyly, his fingers still gripping the handle of his pistol. 

“Y-yeah… Just my way to secure a 1v1 duel…”

Oh, what the hell am I saying, Iso thought, mentally facepalming at his awkward response. He felt silly for acting awkward in front of you. To be honest, he finds you really, really beautiful. Maybe that’s the reason.

But to his surprise, you merely gave him a soft smile. 

“That is sooo freaking cool ~! Can you bring me there someday?” you asked, your tone playful and light.

Iso was surprised, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“Why would I bring you there? I don’t think having a gun duel with an ally there is a good idea–”

You giggled, which interrupted his words. “Not in a gun duel, silly. I just wanna know what it looks like in the dimension.”

Warmth crept onto Iso’s face, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment at having misunderstood your context. “O-oh… Yeah, sure. I hang out a lot there even though there’s nothing much… Mostly when I need alone time to read my books or… listen to music.”

“And, having company once in a while would be nice.” He smiled, his eyes glanced at you.

“Mhmm, then I’ll be waiting ~” you replied, your curiosity piqued. You adjusted your stance, firing a few more rounds with precise accuracy.

“Oh ! Talking about music,” you continued, gesturing to the earbuds that Iso always had whenever you saw him. “I always see you got your earbuds on all the time. I assume you’re a music enthusiast, yes?”

Iso nodded, his fingers fumbling with the gun’s magazine as he exchanged it. “It helps me to stay relaxed and focused. Music has this way of grounding me, you know?”

You smiled, appreciating his honesty. “That makes sense. What kind of music do you listen to then?”

As Iso put his pistol down, he began to list off his favourite genres and artists. You noticed the way his purple-coloured eyes lightened up. You were surprised by the variety of his tastes, from classical compositions to high-energy EDM tracks. Your conversation flowed seamlessly, as Iso continued geeking over his profound hyperfixation.

“So, do you have a favourite song?” you asked, genuinely interested.

Iso took a moment to think before answering. He has so many favourites, heck, he could create millions of playlist when he thought of it. Then, a song came to his mind, “There’s this one song that I find myself going back to quite often. It’s called ‘Helena’ by My Chemical Romance.

The name caught your attention, “Wait ! I know that song ! What’s the worst that I can say ~”

Iso chuckled, he continued singing along, “Things are better if I stay ~”

“So long and goodnight, so long and goodnight.”

Both of you started giggling, which lightened up the mood surrounding the both of you.

Iso started to fiddle with his gloved fingers, his expression softening. “To me, that song carries a powerful and cathartic expression of one’s emotions surrounding the loss of a loved one, so it has become one of my favourites.”

You were touched by his description and decided to make a mental note to listen to the song again later. As you both finished up with the training at the shooting range, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming between you and Iso. He’s slowly getting along with you, no longer the quiet and reserved recruit. 

Someone you could genuinely relate to.

As the both of you left the shooting range, the two of you talked and laughed, not just about combat training but about music, books and everything in between. His giggles caught your attention, the way he would bring up his hand to stifle his laughs. 

Goddamn, he’s cute.

You didn’t expect the training you had with him could be the perfect time to bring you both closer. You couldn’t wait to explore Iso’s unique dimension with him, discovering not just his hidden talents but the beauty of the world he had specifically created for himself.

“So, about that dimension visit,” you teased, “When can we make that happen?”

Iso grinned, the embarrassment from earlier dissipating. “Whenever you’re ready. I’d be happy to show you around the place.”

“Can we make that a promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

(A/N): my love for iso is growing… he’s so cutie patootie… do u get me…

masterlist.

[magical-reid]

I HEARD YOU WANT REQUEST WELL LUCKY YOU I HAVE WAY TOO MANY IDEAS👁️👄👁️

So heres the idea

The reader invites Sebastian over to the room of requirements for the first time ever and needs help with taking care of her hippogriff offspring (you can name the hippogriff whatever you want i named him shiro). While taking care of the hippogriffs Sebastian jokingly inquires about when he'll finally be able to have a family like highwing's and have his own child to care for and indirectly suggests his feelings for the reader while saying so.

I HOPE IM NOT PRESSURING AND THANK YOU SO MUCH MWAH LOVE YOUR WORK 💕💕

Someday, Maybe

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Word Count: 900

Summary: In the enchanting glow of the Room of Requirement, you and Sebastian share a quiet moment of connection while tending to your mischievous hippogriff, Shiro. As playful banter gives way to deeper reflections on trust, family, and what the future might hold, an unspoken bond begins to form between you both—one that might just extend beyond the confines of the magical sanctuary.

The Room of Requirement was alive tonight.

The soft glow of enchanted lanterns reflected off the warm, earthy walls, casting dancing shadows on shelves overflowing with herbs, potions, and magical creature manuals. Amidst it all, Shiro, your mischievous hippogriff offspring, was at the center of the chaos.

“Alright, alright, calm down,” you cooed, gently holding out your hand for Shiro to nuzzle. His sleek, silvery feathers gleamed under the light, and his large, golden eyes blinked up at you. “I’m sorry your dinner took so long, but I didn’t exactly plan on you overturning the whole crate of mooncalf feed.”

Behind you, a familiar voice chuckled. “You mean to tell me he’s like this every day?” Sebastian Sallow stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed and his dark eyes glinting with amusement. He looked out of place in such a whimsical setting, but also entirely too comfortable leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s not his fault,” you defended, though you couldn’t help smiling as you wiped grain off your robes. “He’s just a baby. Babies make messes.”

Sebastian stepped closer, his gaze softening as he took in the scene. “Well, I’ll give you credit. I expected… I don’t know, maybe a cozy tea nook or a study corner in your Room of Requirement. Not a full-on sanctuary for a hippogriff chick.”

You laughed lightly. “What can I say? Shiro has specific needs.” Turning your attention back to the young hippogriff, you knelt beside him, carefully grooming his feathers with a charm. “But I could use a second pair of hands if you’re up for it. He’s restless when I clean his wings.”

Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He crouched beside you, his fingers brushing yours as he reached out tentatively toward Shiro. “Restless, huh? Sounds familiar. Kind of like you in our Defense Against the Dark Arts duels.”

You rolled your eyes, though warmth crept to your cheeks at the teasing lilt in his voice. “Keep talking and I’ll have Shiro pounce on you.”

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t charm him into loving me.” He grinned as Shiro tilted his head at him, inspecting him with cautious curiosity. Slowly, Shiro stared at Sebastian’s outstretched hand for a moment, his golden eyes narrowing as though weighing the boy’s worth. After a tense pause, Shiro finally leaned in, nudging his beak into Sebastian’s palm with a soft chirp.

Sebastian smirked, his confidence growing. “See? He knows a good soul when he meets one.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Good soul? Debatable.”

As you continued grooming Shiro, Sebastian helped by gently smoothing the feathers near his wings. The hippogriff shifted slightly, already more comfortable with the two of you working together.

“You’re a natural,” you admitted, sneaking a glance at Sebastian.

He shrugged. “It’s hard not to be when the company is this charming. And I’m talking about Shiro, of course.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress the faint smile tugging at your lips. There was something disarming about Sebastian when he wasn’t caught up in his usual whirlwind of schemes and determination. Here, in the soft glow of the Room of Requirement, he seemed at ease—genuine, even.

As the minutes passed, the conversation shifted to lighter topics: classes, Hogsmeade trips, and the ever-growing list of Sebastian’s detentions. But then, as Shiro began to settle down, Sebastian’s tone shifted slightly, his words casual yet tinged with something deeper.

“Highwing must be proud,” he mused, his voice softer now. “Raising a little one like this, watching him grow. Must feel nice, having someone to care for. Someone to protect.”

You nodded, your hand pausing mid-stroke along Shiro’s wing. “It’s… rewarding. Hard work, but rewarding. He relies on me, you know? There’s a trust there.”

Sebastian leaned back on his hands, his dark eyes studying you intently. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I get that. Makes me think about what it’d be like to… I don’t know, have that kind of bond with someone someday.”

The way he said it made your heart skip. You glanced over, catching the faintest flicker of vulnerability in his expression before he smirked to cover it.

“Though, knowing my luck, my kid would probably inherit all my bad traits.”

“Probably,” you teased, your voice light despite the fluttering in your chest.

Sebastian laughed, but then his gaze softened again, and his words came slower, more deliberate. “Still, it’d be nice… to have a family. A real one. To build something with someone. You ever think about that?”

Your throat tightened, caught off-guard by the sudden turn in conversation. The way he said it—it wasn’t just hypothetical. There was something unspoken in his question, a careful tiptoe toward something deeper.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to answer. “I suppose… someday. When the time is right.”

Sebastian nodded, his eyes lingering on you. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Someday.”

The air between you grew heavier, the hum of magic in the Room of Requirement fading into the background. Shiro let out a soft coo, breaking the moment as he nudged against your shoulder, clearly seeking attention.

You laughed, breaking the tension. “Looks like someone’s jealous.”

Sebastian smirked, leaning forward to scratch beneath Shiro’s beak. “Jealous? Me? Never.”

But as he looked at you, his eyes betraying something far more genuine than his usual bravado, you couldn’t help but wonder if his words carried more meaning than he let on.

Perhaps someday wasn’t so far away after all.

[creating--memories]

Hi y’all this is my first attempt at a pazzi one-shot. I have been reading for a while but this is the first time I’m posting. Let me know if ppl like it :)

——————<3——————

Paige Bueckers sat on the edge of the bleachers, her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes glued to the court where her best friend was making magic happen. The gym echoed with the rhythmic bounce of basketballs, the sound of shoes screeching against polished wood, and the collective energy of players giving their all. But none of it distracted Paige. Not the game. Not the crowd. Only Azzi.

Azzi Fudd was on fire that night—her moves were sharp, her shots clean, her confidence undeniable. As usual, she was the one to steal the show. Paige had been with Azzi through thick and thin. From late-night practices to long bus rides, from moments of frustration to their shared victories. They had seen it all together. But tonight, something felt different.

Azzi’s eyes met hers across the court after sinking a three-pointer, a quick, knowing smile passing between them. That smile always did something to Paige’s heart, a flutter she couldn’t ignore. They had been best friends since they were both kids—two young girls dreaming of playing college basketball together, maybe even on the same team someday. But these feelings… these feelings were new. Uncharted territory.

“Great shot!” Paige called out as Azzi jogged over to the bench, wiping sweat from her forehead.

“Thanks, but you’re the one who’s always telling me to follow through.” Azzi’s voice was warm, teasing.

Paige smiled softly. She didn’t have to think twice about the advice she gave Azzi—it was the same advice she would give herself. But lately, she was starting to wonder if she needed to take her own advice when it came to her feelings.

Azzi collapsed next to her on the bleacher. “You look like you’re in deep thought. What’s going on?”

Paige shrugged, trying to act casual. “Just watching you play. You’re on fire out there.”

Azzi chuckled. “I’m just doing my job. You know, helping the team win. But you’re quiet tonight. Something on your mind?”

Paige’s heart raced. Azzi’s brown eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, Paige felt exposed. She had always been good at hiding her emotions, but this was different. There was no hiding this.

“I don’t know. I guess…” Paige started, then trailed off. “Do you ever feel like you’re really close to someone, but you don’t know how to tell them something important?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Important, huh? Like… what kind of important?”

Paige bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She wanted to tell Azzi how she felt—how her heart beat faster every time they were together, how the small touches, the shared laughter, the way their friendship had evolved—it all felt like something more. But could she risk everything they had? Could she risk losing Azzi?

Before she could say another word, the coach called for both of them to head back to the court for the second half of the game. Paige stood up, shaking her head. “I’ll think about it later,” she muttered more to herself than to Azzi.

——————<3——————

The night wore on, but Paige’s mind kept returning to that moment—the moment she almost said something to Azzi. It was hard to ignore how much she cared for her, how much more she wanted from their friendship. But after the game, when they were both exhausted and walking back to the dorms, Azzi finally spoke.

“You know, we’ve been best friends forever, right?” Azzi said, her voice unusually quiet. She glanced at Paige, her eyes searching.

Paige nodded. “Of course.”

“I was thinking…” Azzi hesitated, glancing down. “I think I might’ve been feeling something more lately, too.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat. Her throat went dry, and she stopped walking. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Azzi turned toward her. “I mean, I’m not sure when it happened. Maybe it’s always been there, just under the surface. But lately, I can’t stop thinking about you. Not as just my teammate, or my best friend, but something… more. I don’t know if that’s crazy or not.”

Paige felt her breath catch in her chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt like she could exhale. “It’s not crazy. I feel the same way.”

Azzi smiled, that same smile that had always made Paige’s heart race, but now it felt different—charged with something more. Something real.

For a long moment, they stood there, a comfortable silence settling between them. The cool night air wrapped around them, but it wasn’t the only thing that felt electric. Azzi’s hand, which had been hanging by her side, brushed against Paige’s. It was small, but the touch sent a ripple through Paige’s body. Slowly, almost instinctively, Paige reached out, threading her fingers through Azzi’s.

Azzi didn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezed Paige’s hand softly.

“I’ve been wanting this for a while,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible.

Paige’s heart hammered in her chest. There was no going back now. With a breath, she closed the distance between them, her hand still holding Azzi’s, and tilted her head slightly, her eyes searching Azzi’s for permission. Azzi’s eyes were wide, but her lips curled into a soft, encouraging smile.

And then, without a word, Paige leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as if both of them were testing the waters, afraid of what might happen next. But when Azzi responded, pressing closer, Paige deepened the kiss, her hand sliding to the back of Azzi’s neck, pulling her in. The world around them faded—the bright lights of the campus, the soft hum of distant voices—until all that existed was the two of them, tangled together in the most unexpected but perfect moment.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads leaning against each other as they stood still in the quiet night.

“I think this is just the beginning,” Azzi murmured, her voice low, full of promise.

Paige smiled, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. “Yeah,” she agreed softly. “I think you’re right.”

And from that moment on, they didn’t need to say more. They were more than teammates, more than friends. They were something new, something stronger.

And as the days turned into weeks, they learned how to navigate this new chapter of their relationship—one that, like their basketball careers, felt unstoppable.

[piratefishmama]

Finders Givers | Part 1

“—But maybe someday when my ship comes iiiin~ She’ll understand what kinda guy I’ve been, an then I’ll win”

“Chrriiiisss!!” Eddie whined as he tossed himself onto his front, burrowing his head under the pillow

“And when she’s waaalkin, she’s loookin, so FI-I-IIIINE!!”

“CHRIS!!” It was no use, she couldn’t hear him. Too busy belting out Billy Joel in their little kitchenette at… he shoved his pillow aside, realising it was a fruitless endeavour to try and block out the dying cat that was his roommate.

They’d gotten in at just gone two in the morning after blowing the very last of their ‘rainy day’ fund on ten for two dollar shots at a local student haunt, and now it was… ten in the morning, they didn’t have jobs left to get ready for, he still hadn't been able to find his wallet anywhere.

And Chrissy was. Singing.

As if they didn’t have to start job hunting again or risk the fury that was their greasy landlord and his mission to extort them of all their hard earned money. They’d be out on their asses by months end if they didn’t find something soon and the band wasn’t raking in as much cash as he’d have liked for it to be raking in.

Last he heard some big shot was looking to buy the Hideout too, probably shut them down for good. That’d be just their luck.

“An when she’s TAAALKIN she’ll say that she’s MI-I-IIINEE!” He threw his covers off, accepting defeat. At least it smelled like eggs and bacon, so she was clearly cooking the last of their breakfast foods.

Chrissy was of course in her sleep shirt, legs bare, with naught but slipper socks to keep her toes cosy on the tile floors of their kitchenette, swaying to the vinyl player belting out Billy Joel by the open window. Many a man’s fantasy come true, Chrissy was a vision while lost in her favourite music, but to him, Eddie Munson resident flaming homosexual, okay she was still beautiful he had eyes, but those leggy legs and swaying hips didn’t do it for him, thanks. “CHRISS!!”

And she jumped, barely managing to save the bacon from winding up as a sacrifice to the dastardly floor gods. Whipping around to face him, she graced him with the signature Chrissy ‘sunshine smile’ which… didn’t track for the killer hangover she ought to have had given she had three rounds of those shots all in that tiny-ass body of hers.

“Eddieee!!”

“Chrisssyyyy, what’cha doin, Chriss?”

“Breakfast! And Billy Joel!”

“I see that, at… ten in the morning, after student night!” They weren’t students, Chriss could pass for one though “Whaaat’s going on?”

“Letter! The letter, on the top there, read it!” And she was turning her back again hips swaying, moving the foods over to two plates, the only two they currently had clean, oof, it was his turn on dishes, damn what he wouldn’t give for a dishwasher.

Curiosity piqued, he crossed the short distance (it wasn’t a large apartment) and plucked up the neatly tri-folded piece of paper, letterheaded with a real fancy SH logo, a business address and corporate phone number, the letter reading,

“Dear Tenant” he didn’t do inner voices, he had to read it out loud “This is to inform you that as of the week commencing June 12th the building will be under… under new… new ownership?!” He looked up, eyes wide with alarm.

“Keep reading!!” She prompted as if predicting his alarm, she wasn’t even looking at him, clearly jazzed about something, new ownership? The building had been sold from under them and she was happy? He looked back at the paper.

“At this time, we will be… suspending… suspending?” She nodded, turning with two plates in her hand to their tiny little table that Wayne had donated when they moved in “suspending your required rent payments as we… look toward renovating the building and all apartments within.”

“Keep reading, there’s more!” He sat down at his usual chair, paper held in both hands, eyes fixed to the print as he read.

“Any rent arrears accrued in the duration of the building renovations will be… hold up—”

“Yep.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, not joking, it’s official I called them this morning, took me ages to get through to someone but it’s legit, Eddie.”

“But—but shit like this—this doesn’t happen Chriss, and you know what the Police said that one time you got scammed, right? If it seems too good—” he was still looking at that word, that one little word that made all the difference.

“Then it’s probably too good to be true! I know, I know, but I got the confirmation from their office, I GOOGLED the number too, I didn’t just call the one on the letter cause I know scams can get’cha that way.” Although what kind of scam it could be was baffling as it wasn’t asking for money it was saying they wouldn’t be asking for money for a while “sobered my ass right up let me tell you, best hangover cure in the world, and Mrs Jablonski next door got one too! And Dottie across the hall, I’m pretty sure I heard upstairs yelling earlier, an I mean like happy yelling, not yelling yelling like usual. Cheering! I think it’s legit, Eddie…”

“So… we just… we don’t have to pay rent, at all… for however the fuck long these renovations take to happen? Do we have an expected completion date to these renovations? Or start date?”

“Nope, just a from week commencing, the lady on the phone had no idea about them but she got the confirmation from ‘upstairs’ and just said there’d be more information sent to us eventually and not to worry about it.”

“Not to worry—not to worry about it?” He wanted to worry about it, every fibre of his being demanded he worry about it. Not that they could even pay rent if it was asked for, they had no money and no jobs after he’d decked their line manager for calling Chrissy fat, she was not fat, and she’d only just stopped staring at herself in the mirror as if every inch of her was wrong. She’d passed the month mark since she‘d last forced herself to throw up. She was finally getting some plump back into her cheeks.

She was on the mend. She was recovering. And he’d just—Eddie had seen red. He just wished he’d have been wearing his rings at the time.

“You can call them if you want!” She spoke around a mouthful of sunny side up eggs. “I think whatever it was, was a really random decision high up, like… it wasn’t something decided upon by a board of directors or anything because she took a while to get confirmation about it, but—but I dunno Eddie, maybe… maybe things can be good for a while.” They wouldn’t have to panic about getting jobs.

Wouldn’t have to deal with grease trap Carl the guy who collected their rent every month who seemed to just… always be greasy. Hands, hair, face, clothes. Who’d look at Chrissy like she was a piece of meat, or make disgusting comments about how lucky Eddie was to live with her, while she was stood right there holding Eddie’s arm back stopping him from launching at the guy.

Wayne had offered to run the guy over one time “Would be a one an done, son, would catch him at just the right time as he left the place an be gone just as fast, wouldn’t even know I was there.” Like a grade A parent, with all the gold stars available at the local craft store. But Eddie could deal with Carl.

They wouldn’t have to anymore though. If this was legit, it meant Carl was gone. No more Carl.

“…Screw calling them, I think we should go down there and see what’s up.”

“M’kay, but eat your damn breakfast that’s the last of the maple bacon an you got the bigger piece.” If he immediately traded the bigger piece on his plate for the smaller one on hers, well… she only smiled over it, she liked the maple kind more than him anyway.

Or so he'd told her.

Part 3

[nightghoulz]

I’m on a small break at work right now so let me lay down some headcanons for the lovely little frat house sims 4 Warhammer thing I have going on. Probably not super accurate since my knowledge only comes from other awesome headcanons and blurbs on here and the very minuscule number of books I’ve read.

What are they majoring in? Since they are now in a huge college frat house!

Lion- History. Really likes cracking codes, will solve an impossible one for extra credit

Fulgrim- Art. Painting specifically, although he admires his classmate’s works in other mediums.

Perturabo- Engineering, minoring in some sort of architecture study. Rivalry with Dorn, duh!

Jaghatai Khan- Veterinary studies! Classmates love him because he’s the cool one that shows up on a bike every damn day.

Leman Russ- Also Veterinary studies. Has 10 different cheesy wolf shirts. Aside from genuinely believing he’s a werewolf (he is), he’s at the top of the class.

Rogal Dorn- Architecture. Minoring in engineering. Rivalry with perty!

Konrad Curze- Criminal justice. Will go on to be a lawyer. Gets a little too into it.

Sanguinius- Political science. Minoring in art, shares supplies with Fulgrim. Wins those world meeting club things (no clue what they are called but someone please know what I mean)

Ferrus Manus- Ironworking (welding). Got permission to use the classroom out of hours for his own projects as long as he cleans up.

Angron- Therapist. Specifically anger management. Really good at it too, seeing as there’s no Butcher’s nails. Maybe Perty or Dorn accidentally get him with the nail gun at some point.

Guilliman- Accounting. Sorry guys. He likes excel!

Mortarion- Mortuary science. It’s quiet and no one bothers him about it except fulgrim, who is interested in how similar it is to sculpting.

Magnus- History, specializing in Egyptology. Double majored in archeology as well. Overachiever.

Horus- Changed his major a bunch. Settled on acting since he enjoyed the club. Likes the acting part but gets forced to paint sets for money off his tuition. Eventually enjoys it, yay development!

Lorgar- Religious studies and history. Gets to visit old cathedrals and go on more trips so his brothers are jealous.

Vulkan- archeology. Studies with Magnus. Dreams of opening his own museum, but hey, maybe they’ll do it together.

Corvus- Literature. Would love to teach it someday and make his classroom Edgar Allen Poe themed.

Alpharius/Omegon- who knows what they are studying? They seem to be in every class at once.

This took way longer than I thought oops. Sorry to the few that I don’t know junk on :’) I am tired and I tried. I’ll do more later maybe!

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by...

- haztobegood -

[1]

NailedByLouis: Don’t worry, I cleaned up the mess

Before Harry types out a response, Louis sends another. This time it is a picture. A selfie of Louis licking the blue frosting from his fingers. It is so suggestive, nearly pornographic, the way Louis is staring straight into the camera. Harry drops his phone on his face.

“Ow,” Harry whines as he picks up his phone and looks again. Did Louis intend for that picture to look like that? It’s a much clearer selfie than the one posted publicly. Harry notices a few tattoos on Louis’ wrist, the sharp line of his jaw, his piercing blue stare. Everything about the flirty picture turns Harry on. Blood rushes south as unbidden visions come to mind of what else those fingers, or that tongue, could do to him. He shifts around on his bed, surprised to realize he is getting hard from just one selfie. Harry’s heart races and his palms are damp as he types.

harrysizzles: I’m not sure anything about that is clean

NailedByLouis: Maybe next time you should be here to help me clean up ;)

[2]

Harry’s eyes turn dark as he challenges Louis with a fierce glare. It’d be incredibly intimidating if it wasn’t so damn hot. “I told you not to do that.”

“Whoops,” Louis huffs out a laugh. “I forgot.” It’s not like he regrets tossing the mic and he’s sure his fans loved it, too.

“The mics are fragile and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find replacements easily if one of them were to break, especially once we are in the Midwest. You need to be more careful with the equipment. Don’t make me have to remind you again.”

“Right,” Louis clears his throat. He really needs to get railed if this talking-to is all that he needs to bring him to his knees. Louis aims for feigned nonchalance, hoping his indifference will push Harry’s buttons the way Harry’s warnings are getting to him. He smiles at Harry sweetly, and taps him lightly on the chest twice as he says, “Well, I’ll try to remember next time.”

[3]

“Well, I’m sure Harold would look stunning in a wedding dress someday.” Louis laughs lightly.

Louis' joking tone doesn't ease the sting of the four people laughing at Harry's expense, especially when the thought of wearing a dress hits a little too close to home for Harry. To deflect from further comments about brides and dresses, Harry swats at Louis’ arm. Louis grabs his hand and holds it tight to prevent any further attacks. Unexpectedly, he twines their fingers together at their sides. “You’re right Aunt Sharon,” Louis grins devilishly, “I should put a ring on him so no one else can scoop him up.”

Everyone in the room laughs. Everyone except Harry. He might have found it all funny, if he didn’t want so badly for it to be true. It’s unnerving how spending just a few hours around Louis has made him feel more intense crush and desire to be with him. And all the while, Louis has seen it as a joke. To him it’s a strange situation of helping his friend's little brother to get out of an awkward situation. But to Harry, it had started to feel like so much more.

He should have never agreed to Niall’s suggestion. He should have turned Louis away the moment he’d opened his door.

[4]

By Niall’s third drink he has thrown subtlety out the window. He leans his elbow on the table nonchalantly and asks, “So, Louis, are you planning on showing Harry the Royal Jewels tonight?”

Louis laughs loudly, caught off guard by the brazen question.

“Hey!” Harry whines in protest. He gives Niall’s shoulder a teasing push in retaliation. “I’m not that easy. I require at least one date before I put out.”

Harry winks at Louis. Louis breath catches in his throat, laughter cut short by Harry’s coy response.

Answers below...

[1]

Nailed By Louis

It had started as a joke, just two months earlier. Louis had tried to make recipe from HarrySizzles Instagram account. It looked doable: no strange ingredients, no scary kitchen machinery. Just a simple layered lettuce salad. The result had been catastrophic. His friends had laughed so hard at the disgusting appearance of his salad, and after a few drinks, Louis had been convinced to start his own Instagram to track his food failures.

[2]

More Than a Mic Drop

“You dropped the mic last night.”

“Oh, yeah. I did.” Louis gives a little shrug. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his baggy grey sweatpants.

“That was really careless.” His tone is very stern, unlike his usual bubbly and helpful voice when he suggests Louis try singing a chorus for the third time as he adjusts the sound mix again. Harry levels him a serious look and suddenly the room feels too hot. “You could have broken the mic and we don’t have a lot of spares.”

[3]

Not Another Lonely Christmas

Harry should be more nervous that he’s bringing a literal stranger to meet his extended family, but he figures it can’t be much more awkward than Aunt Sharon’s Christmas parties usually are. Instead, he’s looking forward to having an extra person to buffer the conversation.

A knock comes one minute after eleven. He lets out the breath and opens the door. “Hi there— Louis?!”

Or, the one where the friend Niall sets up as Harry's fake boyfriend turns out to be Gemma's best friend Louis

[4]

The Prince and The YouTuber

The Annual Rosendal Spring Gala hosted by the Royal Family is the most prestigious fundraiser in the country. When a problem with the honorary foundation arises, Crown Prince Louis Tomlinson must pick a new worthy foundation on short notice. He discovers the perfect replacement in an unlikely place, while watching his favorite YouTuber, Harrysparkles.

@haztobegood

[whoisneo404]

trans ftm dom nick bf smut? extra points if its rough degrading and filthy (if ur comfortable ofc if not i can give u more fluff prompts)

Eye roll.

Summary: you have been teasing (bf) Nick, he has been busy all day editing and recording, so when Matt and Chris leave to get food at night, Nick desides to make you regret your desitions.

Tw: degradation, cursing.

Note: this IS nsfw, if you don’t like it just don’t read. It’s MY FIRST TIME WRITING NSFW so maybe its not that good.

Note 2: reader IS FTM, so afab body parts will be used to describe their body, but I didn’t got into many ditails. Also, reader wears a binder.

It’s 8 in the morning and I’m looking at the tshirts infront of me, I don’t wanna wear any of them, I look at myself in the mirror, maybe I can just spend the day like this, its not like anyone in the house will care, besides, we have all been good friends since we were kids. I grab my pants and put them on, I look good.

‘’Are you coming to eat or not?’’ my boyfriend Nick enters his room and looks at me up and down. ‘’And your shirt?’’

‘’Didn’t feel like wearing one right now.’’ He closes the door behind him and walks over, standing behind me and wraping his strong arms around me. ‘’Is that so?’’ he whispers in my ear with a low voice sending shivers down my spine.

‘’Yeah… something wrong?’’ he leans down, his head resting in my shoulder leaving kisses on it.

‘’Nothing, you just look so fucking hot and its breakfast time not turn me on time.’’ His hands start trailing from my waist to my hips pressing me against him. ‘’But we have to go now, or I won’t stop.’’ He gives me a kiss on the cheek and walks to the door.

--

After breakfast and talking for a while with the guys, I help Matt clean the table. Chris is in his room playing videogames and Nick on the leaving room editing their last car video.

‘’And that’s what I bought this weekend, I think I can make great outfits out of those things, don’t you think so?’’ Matt talks as he finishes cleaning the spilled juice.

‘’Yeah, those are great clothing items. I love thrifting.’’ I smile at him. ‘’We should go together someday.’’

‘’Yes, that would be so fun. I’ll be going to my room now, see you around.’’

‘’All right, bye Matty.’’ As he leaves to his room, I turn around to see Nick sitting in the couch with his headphones off and a frown on his face. I walk to him and sit by his side. ‘’everything all right?’’

‘’I don’t know, why don’t you ask Matty?’’ he raises one eyebrow and I let out a short laugh. ‘’What’s so funny?’’

‘’Are you really grumpy because I talked with Matt?’’ Nick doesn’t say anything, he just shrugs his shoulder and crosses his arms over his chest.

‘’Baby, come on, we are friends. Besides, I’m dating the most handsome guy on earth, there is no one I would rather spend my time with.’’ I say as I kiss his cheek and play with his hair. I grab him by the cheek and make him face me, kissing his lips with passion. He leans back, putting his laptop to the side and grabbing my waist firmly pulling me against him until I’m on top of him.

‘’You are mine.’’ He says between kisses.

‘’I know.’’ I murmur back and stand up with a grin on my face.

‘’What the fuck? Why are you standing up? Come here.’’ He seems confused and annoyed.

‘’No, you have to finish editing the video.’’ He lets out a groan and I give him a kiss on his forehead. ‘’You can do it.’’ I say and start walking to the kitchen to grab him a drink, I see him adjust himself in the couch trying to hide the bulge between his pants.

--

It’s night time, I’m sitting on Nicks lap as he answers e-mail about collabs and up coming photoshoots. I start to get bored of scrolling on my phone and looking at the screen of his laptop, so I start nibbling at his neck and jaw, I feel his body tense up.

‘’Stop that.’’ He says serious.

‘’I’m not doing anything.’’ I say ‘innocently’ and keep giving him kisses and bites.

‘’Behave. Or you’ll regret it.’’

‘’You are no fun Nick.’’ I roll my eyes and cross my arms.

‘’Don’t roll your eyes at me or I’ll make them roll all night.’’ He looks at me dead in the eyes, my cheeks are red and I look away from him. I was gonna say something but Chris and Matt’s voice sound from the front door.

‘’We going out for dinner, I think we’ll take a while.’’ Chris screams.

‘’All right, we’ll order food, take care.’’ Nick screams back.

‘’M’kay, bye.’’ The door shuts and the engine of the car starts rumbling.

‘’As I was saying.’’ Nick grabs my jaw with one hand and makes me look at him. ‘’Behave, or you’ll regret it.’’

‘’Whatever.’’ I mumble and roll my eyes at him again.

‘’Okay, that’s enough.’’ He shuts his laptop and carries me over his shoulder into his room throwing me into the bed. ‘’I have been waiting for this all day.’’ He says more to himself than to me and climbs into bed.

Nick is now on top of me, kissing me roughly. I feel his hands going up and down my waist and legs until he breaks the kiss to take off my pants and hoodie that he gave at some point in the day. He grabs my legs and opens them up.

‘’I swear, I’ll make you scream so hard the neighbors will know that you are a whore for my dick.’’ He whispers against my ear and start kissing my neck, leaving marks all over it, he starts trailing his kisses down my chest, ribs, stomach, until he reaches my boxers which he takes off quickly.

He begins kissing my thighs leaving bite marks all over them, he gives my clit a kiss and then he starts licking and kissing it. My back arches and my hips move uncontrollably against his tongue, my hand pushing and pulling him by the hair.

‘’Please, please.’’ the room is filled with my moans and sloppy noises.

‘’Please what, baby?’’ he murmurs between licks.

‘’Need you, need you inside.’’

‘’Aren’t you so fucking needy? Always wanting to be fucked and filled. Does my fucktoy want me inside of him?’’ He grins looking down at me, I nod eagerly. ‘’Come on doll, use your words, or you won’t get anything.’’

‘’Please, want you inside, need you inside.’’ I slur out, Nick grabs me by the chin and kisses me roughly before spanking my thigh.

‘’That’s it, that’s my slut.’’

thats it, idk how to continue. again, this is my firts time writing smut or nsfw so its not the best. but i tried my best.

feel free to seend all the requests you want and ill try my best to do them as soon as i can.

take care and be kind.

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Joel and reader's vacation continues and lines start to blur. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: happy new year to all of you, and sorry for the long wait! I was completely flashed by the love you showed for part 1 (THANK YOU!!!), and wanted to live up to your expectations. I’ll try to write part 3 as quickly as possible! Sorry if there's any typos, I edited this while severely hungover

The afternoon at the beach was relaxing and lighthearted after you agreed with Joel and stopped studying so much, and you find that apart from having a body that makes you clench your thighs together, he’s interesting to talk to. He doesn’t give you the same bullshit about university and acting responsibly, but rather accepts that there are things you dislike about your degree. He doesn’t offer advice on how to learn to enjoy those things, he just nods when you tell him you’ve learnt to deal with them. He treats you like an adult, someone who makes their own informed choices – something your life has been sorely lacking.

You head back to the rooms in comfortable silence, and you enjoy the way Joel’s arm almost grazes yours. When you think about the flutter in your stomach for too long it’s ridiculous, but it’s so easy to leave behind the morals and expectations of home when all you’re facing right now is an all-inclusive dinner and as many cocktails as you want. You aren’t planning on getting drunk if Joel isn’t, but you want to have fun tonight. You haven’t been on a real vacation in ages.

 You take another shower once you’re in your room, wash away the sunscreen and sea salt, until your hair is all soft again and you smell like shampoo. The hotel restaurant isn’t super fancy, but you feel like putting in a little effort, so you pick out a black dress you like, and wear your sandals again. You wonder if you’ll get cold – the days are burning hot, but at night there’s a cool breeze that might make you regret your choice of clothes. Fuck it, you think, you haven’t had an occasion to dress up in ages, and getting Joel all flustered again sure seems like reason enough. You grab your purse, phone and keycard, and head to the door.

Joel opens his door at the same time you do, and you swallow when you see he’s changed outfits, too. His hair is slightly damp and all curly, he’s wearing black jeans and a simple black t-shirt with an unbuttoned, flowy linen shirt over it. The sleeves are rolled up to reveal his forearms. It’s stylish. You didn’t expect Joel Miller to look stylish.

"Wow," you say with a smile. "You clean up nice."

Joel just huffs, but his eyes ghost over your dress for a second too long. He doesn’t answer.

When you get to the restaurant, Joel pulls out your chair for you, which earns him a blinding smile. Stylish and a gentleman, who would have thought? Back home he always seemed like a grumpy lumberjack to you, and although you do find him excruciatingly attractive in his flannels, you’re intrigued to find out what else you didn’t know about him.

"Is it really all-inclusive?", you ask, gazing at the menu and not quite believing you can order anything you’d like and not pay for it. 

"Sure. You want a cocktail?"

"If you’ll have one with me?"

Joel holds your gaze, but shakes his head.

"I think I prefer whiskey over that sweet stuff," he says, and you make a face.

"Fine, whiskey it is, then," you say, and Joel frowns.

"You don’t have to drink what I’m drinkin’. Have a cocktail."

This time you’re the one to shake your head.

"It’s no fun, having cocktails on your own. But I haven’t had whiskey in ages, maybe I like it better now."

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches.

"Ages, huh? How long have you been allowed to drink again?"

You smile, but don’t dignify his question with an answer, and after a moment Joel chuckles and looks back at the menu.

"Fine, I’ll have a Gin Fizz," he says, looking up again. "You?"

He wants to order a cocktail, just so that you can enjoy having one, too. Your stomach flutters.

"Joel, you don’t have t-"

"I know I don’t. I’m having a Gin Fizz."

There’s a finality to his tone, but his voice is friendly. You give him a reluctant smile, one that isn’t ironic or half-joking. He smiles back, and leans back in his chair, eyes still on yours. You study the menu again, this time having a closer look at the cocktails.

"Sex on the beach," you say seriously, and Joel snorts.

"Clever."

***

You do end up drinking a sex on the beach, and Joel actually enjoys his gin fizz. The food is delicious, Joel lets you try a piece of his steak and you offer him a bite of your fish, but he declines with a disgusted look on his face that makes you grin. No seafood for Joel Miller, then.

Joel orders you another cocktail when the waiter clears your plates, and you smile to yourself. He’s being courteous.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Miller?", you ask, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I think you’re managin’ that without my help."

He’s right, of course – your long day of traveling makes the buzz in your head more prominent, and although you’re nowhere near drunk, your tongue is a little looser than usually, and you find it much easier to hold Joel’s eye-contact.

"I’m glad I came here," you say all of a sudden, the thought fleeting, but true. "I needed a break."

Joel’s smile is honest, when he answers.

"I’m glad you came, too. It’d be boring, bein’ here on my own."

"Right," you say, "who would get you to drink cocktails? You’d be stuck drinking disgusting whiskey and wallowing in your loneliness."

Joel smiles, shaking his head slightly, and takes a sip of his Gin.

"You wanna head down to the beach?", you ask when your glasses are empty and you feel a little woozy from the second cocktail. Joel looks surprised.

"I love the sea at night," you say a little dreamily, voice trailing off.

"Sure. Let’s go," Joel just answers.

The air outside is cool, just like you anticipated, and you shiver slightly, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep the goosebumps at bay. Joel notices, and immediately shrugs out of his linen shirt, handing it to you. You stare at him.

"Take it," he insists, and you do, the fabric soft in your hands. You slip it on, the sleeves coming down to your fingertips, the collar smelling of Joel’s cologne. You wonder why it took you two cocktails to notice how good he smells. When you’re done rolling up the sleeves, you look up and find Joel watching you quietly. Your eyes meet – he looks away, and starts walking again.

You’re pleasantly tipsy, walking to the beach at night, wearing Joel Miller’s clothes and brushing his arm with yours every once in a while. It feels a little surreal.

"Aren’t you cold now?", you ask after a couple of minutes of quiet.

"No," Joel answers, his voice a little rougher than before, "’sides, you wear it better anyway."

You flush, and when you don’t answer, he looks at you.

"Jesus, sorry," he mumbles. "I didn’t…it slipped out. Just meant you look pretty, is all."

Your stomach swirls pleasantly, and you want Joel to put his arm around your shoulder, or kiss you, or take that shirt off again. You clear your throat.

"Thanks," you answer quietly, toying with the hem of the shirt. "I think you wore it well, too, though. Suits you."

Joel doesn’t answer, but when you glance at him, you notice the ghost of a smile on his face, half-hidden by his patchy beard.

You walk the rest of the way in contemplative silence, each of you lost in your thoughts. You’re always amazed to see the sea at night. The darkness somehow elevates its vastness, water and sky bleeding into each other at the near invisible horizon. It’s easy to forget about your exams here, with the whole expanse of the planet spread out before you, the relentlessly calm sound of the waves, and Joel’s scent in your nose. You sit down on an abandoned deck chair and watch Joel walk up to the water, pick up a seashell, and drop it into the water again. He seems content to be here, you think. Relaxed. You don’t know him well, but his body language seems more at ease than it did back home. Perhaps you’re not the only one who needed a break.

You get up again, and walk over to Joel, who smiles when he sees you coming.

"You were right," he says, "it’s different in the dark."

You know he means the sea, the beach, the lack of people around, the sand that burned your feet only hours ago now having a cooling effect. Still, his words leave room for interpretation and you don’t miss the way his gaze moves over your form in his shirt.

"Thanks for the cocktails," you say quietly, "and the shirt."

Joel looks over at you, but you don’t have the guts to look at him. You can’t quite be sure what the moonlight and scenery will make you do, not when he’s never looked more handsome, and you’re more than tipsy.

"You’re welcome," he says honestly. "I know you’re doin’ this for your Dad more than anything, but I hope you’re still havin’ fun."

He’s self-conscious, or something close to it, wondering how he could make this trip more enjoyable for you – so he orders cocktails he doesn’t like and lets you wear his clothes.

"I am having fun," you reassure him. "I’m at the beach at night wearing a guy’s shirt who got me all the cocktails I wanted, instead of studying at my desk for the millionth night in a row."

Joel chuckles.

"My Dad should break his leg more often," you sigh, digging the heel of your foot into the sand. Joel doesn’t answer.

When you walk back to the hotel, you feel the ghost of his hand on your lower back, not touching, but lingering, as if he instinctively wants to stir you in the right direction, or keep you from stumbling. It makes that flutter in your stomach reappear.

You pass reception to get to the elevators, and the same woman is still there, smiling when he recognizes you.

"You two enjoying the sea?", she asks.

"Very much, thank you," you answer, "we had cocktails and walked to the beach."

The lady looks pleased at how happy you seem and smiles at Joel.

"I’m glad to hear it! Well, you two enjoy your Daddy-daughter trip," she says, before answering the telephone that starts ringing just as you’re about to say good-night.

Joel’s brows are furrowed when you look at him, which makes you suppress a grin. The lady assuming he’s your father is clearly bothering him, and you get the feeling it might not entirely be about his age.

When you’ve made it up to your rooms, you turn to Joel to find him already watching you. He looks different here, in the harsh light of the corridor, dark shadows falling over his features, his form somehow looking broader.

"Breakfast at nine?", he asks you, voice quiet so as not to disturb any other guests in their rooms.

"Yeah," you say, and before you can change your mind, you kiss his cheek. His expression is unreadable, when you pull away.

"Goodnight," you say with a tired smile, before teasingly adding "Daddy."

Joel holds your eye contact, and doesn’t flush this time.

"Careful," he says gently, voice low and dark. You swallow.

Before you can forget, you shrug off his shirt, but Joel doesn’t move to take it from your outstretched hand. After a beat, his eyes flicker over your face.

"Keep it," he says curtly, "I like it on ya."

And then he’s gone, the door to his room shutting with a soft thud. You shake your head slightly, and press the soft linen fabric against your nose, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat. You ache just at the thought of it having touched his skin, and him now wanting to see you in it, but it would feel like a violation if you relieved that ache now, even if Joel wasn’t there, so you ignore the dull throbbing between your legs best as you can and go to bed with Joel’s shirt right next to your bed.

***

The next morning you feel a little nervous about breakfast – something shifted between you and Joel after your good-bye in the hallway. He seemed so sure of himself when he told you he liked you in his shirt, so unwavering, and you’re a nervous wreck just thinking about saying good morning to him.

Instead of putting on the white sundress you wore yesterday, you slip into a bikini, a pair of comfortable shorts, and Joel’s linen shirt, half unbuttoned so that your necklace peeks out. This time you leave the sleeves un-rolled, liking how big it feels on you, a constant reminder of Joel’s size.

You wash your face and brush your teeth, but don’t shower since you’re going to have to do that in the evening anyway. Although you’re mostly excited to see Joel again, you also can’t wait to have your morning coffee and something to eat – you hope the breakfast buffet will be as good as dinner was.

You wait for Joel in the hallway, but when he doesn’t come out of his room, you knock on his door.

"One second," his voice comes from inside, and you wait leaning against the wall just like he did the day before. When he opens the door, you can’t suppress a smile – his hair is charmingly tousled from his sleep, he clearly didn’t know what to do with it without taking a shower first.

"Nice hair," you say, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel doesn’t answer, with his brows slightly furrowed he keeps staring at you. Anxiety floods your veins, and you wonder if it was the best idea to dress the way you did, if Joel might think of it as strange or creepy or pathetic.

"You’re wearing my shirt," he says, voice quiet and still rough from sleep. It’s not a question, just a statement, no judgement behind it. You swallow, watching his brown eyes trail over your arms, torso, your shorts.

"Yeah," you answer timidly, fighting the urge to cross your arms. "You said you liked it on me."

Joel’s eyes snap up to yours, and with all the courage you can muster up, you hold his gaze for several long seconds.

"I did."

Again, just a statement. One that doesn’t require an answer, but you feel like shrinking under Joel’s gaze, so you offer him an out out of the situation.

"I’ll take it off, if you want me to," you mutter, and quickly add "I’ll put on something else."

Joel watches you quietly, and finally runs a hand through his messy hair.

"No need, kid," he says with a defeated sounding exhale. "’M glad ya like it."

***

Breakfast is a welcome distraction from whatever happened in the hallway – you drink too much coffee, and try all of the delicious food offered: bacon and eggs, colorful fruit you have never seen before, yoghurt and pancakes. Joel sticks to coffee and toast, though he does steal one of the peaces of fruit from your plate.

"I’ll get one more cup," you say when you have drained the last of your coffee, and Joel chuckles.

"Might as well do a line," he says and you snort, but stay seated – he’s right, you should watch your caffeine intake. He watches you, and after a second raises an eyebrow.

"I didn’t mean anything by it. You drink as much coffee as you want."

His voice is apologetic and soft.

"No, I’ll do as you say," you answer, "or I’ll die of heart failure."

Something flashes over his face at those words, but you can’t pinpoint it. Still, your stomach flutters, when Joel doesn’t break the eye-contact.

After breakfast the two of you get your towels and the rest of your beach-belongings from your rooms, and Joel changes into his trunks again. You walk past reception quietly, the lady from the day before isn’t there, and Joel’s arm brushes against yours casually. Suddenly you wish you weren’t wearing his shirt, just to feel his skin against yours. It’s a little pathetic.

Joel gets you two deckchairs – the beach is still relatively empty – and you put on sunscreen. When you’re done with your limbs and stomach, you offer Joel the bottle.

"Do my back, please?"

"Sure," he mutters, taking the bottle from you, and gently stroking your hair out of the way. He’s quiet, holding you steady by the shoulder when you instinctively squirm away from the initial cold of the liquid on your skin, his hands calloused but gentle. From time to time, his fingers slip under the shoulder straps of your bikini, and you feel heat pool between your legs when he starts covering your lower back in sunscreen. His hand is dangerously close to the waistband of your swimsuit.

"All done," he says, closing the bottle. You raise an eyebrow.

"Don’t need sunscreen," he explains, "I don’t burn easy."

"You’ll get skin cancer," you argue. "Everybody needs sunscreen."

He huffs, but hands you the bottle and turns around to sit down on the deckchair. You watch his beautiful back, the way the skin ripples over his muscles, how broad and solid it seems. You squirt some of the sunscreen onto your hand and apply it to Joel’s shoulders, rubbing gently. He relaxes under your touch, the tension leaving his muscles, and you move your hands more deliberately, focusing on his shoulders, until Joel’s head falls forward slightly, giving into the sensation.

"Good?", you ask, a little shy.

Joel hums, and you wonder if his eyes are closed, if he’s enjoying your touch so much he can’t form a full sentence. You dig the heels of your palms into his muscles, the sunscreen making the slide easy. His skin his littered in freckles and birthmarks, marked by years of working under the sun.

"You always apply sunscreen like that?", Joel asks suddenly, and you flush.

"Most people aren’t this tense," you quip back, fingers gliding over Joel’s neck. "Actually, nobody’s ever been this tense, I think."

He shakes his head slightly, but lets you carry on, working your way down his back, the tan line of his trunks visible and oh so tempting. You imagine pulling them down and try to refrain from clenching your thighs together.

When you’re done, Joel’s muscles feel a little looser, more relaxed, and he turns around to look at you.

"Thanks," he says quietly, and you nod. Now that he can see you, look you directly in the eye, it feels almost absurdly bold to have touched him like that. Still, things have started to unravel a little. Lines have blurred.

Although you don’t know where you get the courage from, you hold his gaze, put one hand on his shoulder, and squeeze.

"Any time, Joel," you answer, and watch him swallow. Then, his own hand comes up to yours, and you half think he’s going to remove yours, but he just loosely wraps his fingers around your wrist, eyes not leaving yours.

"That’s a dangerous game you’re playin’, kid," he says quietly, but doesn’t let go of you. You hope he never does.

"Do you…want me to stop?", you ask him, because you will if this is making him uncomfortable, if you read him wrong. He’s silent for a second.

"No," he says so quietly it’s almost inaudible. His thumb starts moving over your wrist, right over the pulse point, and it makes you weak in the knees. You didn’t know a touch as small as that one could be so erotic, but with Joel it seems, everything is. You fight to not let a whimper escape your mouth, and close your eyes for just a second.

"God," Joel mutters, more to himself than to you, "look at you."

Your eyes snap open when you feel him move, hand still locked around your wrist securely, and suddenly he’s towering over you. You gaze up at him, his eyes bright under the blazing sun, his hair still tousled, his beard patchy and flecked with grey. He’s all man, in a way you didn’t know you found desirable before him, but there is undeniable proof of your want leaking into your swimsuit, sticky and hot between your thighs.

He watches you, intense eyes moving over your face, your eyes, your mouth, your hands, your body in your nicest swimsuit, your throat as you swallow. His other hand comes up to stroke the hair away from your neck, and goosebumps erupt on your skin. Joel almost chuckles, but it’s more the ghost of a breath. You flush.

"It’s fucking stupid to go through with this," Joel says seriously, like he wants to inform you of it – as if you don’t know.

"Yes," you breathe, because he’s completely right.

"Your Dad would kill me, and rightly so," he adds.

"Oh, fuck my Dad," you answer, trying to reach out to touch Joel, but your wrist is still tightly locked in his grasp. You tug a little, but he doesn’t budge.

"You doin’ this to get back at him?"

You detect something in his voice you don’t like – uncertainty.

"No, Joel," you breathe, "God, no. Have you looked into a mirror recently?"

That makes him smile, and you wonder if he gets compliments a lot, but by the way his cheeks gain color, you don’t think he does. Stupid, stupid world, stupid people who came before you. He should be told every second of the day.

"It’s still stupid,“ he says, but his eyes are more intense than before now. You’re on holiday, away from all judgement. You can do whatever you want to do to each other.

"Thought I was the smart one in my family," you tease, reminding him of his words on the plane. You want him to lean down and finally kiss you, or throw you down on the deckchair and fuck you right there, your face pressed into his linen shirt. His thumb keeps moving over your wrist, relentlessly building tension.

"Take me to your room," you whisper, eyes wide, and anticipation pooling deep in your belly. Joel curses.

"You have any idea of the things I wanna do to you?"

His voice is low, dangerous, and you’d be at least a little afraid if this one anyone else. But it’s Joel, who lets you hate your degree without judgement, drinks cocktails he doesn’t like just so you can enjoy yourself, and through his permission allows you to stop studying, lets you enjoy this trip.

"Do them," you breathe, "I’ll let you do anything."

"Jesus fucking Christ, kid," he answers, and finally lets go of your wrist, one hand coming to rest on your waist, tugging you towards him, the other gently cradling your face. His breath ghosts over your mouth, and then he brushes your lips with his in a needy, slow kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth and you open up for him willingly. He tugs your hips against him, making you whimper and feel his bulge dig into your stomach.

The only thing keeping you from pulling him out of his swimming trunks right then is the fact that there are people around, and you’re pushing it already with the way his hands grasp at your skin and his tongue licks in your mouth. Any further and you could be arrested for public indecency.

"Please," you ask him between kisses, "Please, Joel, just take me to your room."

His teeth dig into your lower lip, and you fight a moan.

"Ask me again," he says, voice a little wrecked, and the need you feel for him deep in your stomach burns white hot. He wants you to beg.

"Please," you say, like he isn’t stripping you of your dignity instead of your clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed, not when Joel groans at the sound.

"Alright, kid. I’ve got you.“

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar Mama Chapter 1

And another one! New story involving #sugarbabybucky Summary: Bucky is overworked and struggling to get by.  The bills are piling up and he’s consistently in the red with no end in sight.  Y/N is a billionaire’s daughter, entrepreneur and philanthropist having a hard time finding true friends or love.  She has a proposition for him. 

bucky barnes x curvy!reader Warnings: eventual smut, sexual assault (not from Bucky)

Next chapter

Bucky was exhausted.  He had been working three jobs for four years now just trying to get by, and this was his sixth sixteen hour day in a row.  Student loans and credit card debt was eating him out of house and home, in the most literal sense.  Even living in a rent controlled building wasn’t helping with the bills piling up.  He had gone to college for architecture and interior design, which he was doing now working as an assistant during normal working hours for one of the many local interior designers.  Then he would go straight to his second job as a waiter in a high end restaurant in downtown Manhattan, then at the end of the night go home and do a few more hours of online tutoring.  He had ended his 20s and entered his 30s feeling like an old man, with no end in sight of ever getting a break or being able to break even with his debt.  Forget about dating or having a family someday.  That all seemed like a ridiculous pipe dream now.

“Heeeeyyyy Buckaroo?” Steve sidled up to him as he was cleaning off wine glasses.

“No,” Bucky cut him off.  

“But it’s just–”

“Steve, it’s Friday night, I’d really like to go home and get in bed at a normal time tonight,” Bucky interrupted him, the dark circles under his eyes that he tried to ignore looking more prominent by the day.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.  But Peggy has been hounding me about going to that new burlesque club that just opened and I told her I was working but we haven’t had a date night in a long time–”

“Ugh, fine.  But I’m not sharing tips,” Bucky sighed, rubbing his face as he pulled a 5 Hour Energy out of his apron pocket and quickly downed it like a shot.

“Those are bad for you, Buck,” Steve gave his friend a worried look.

“Well maybe a heart attack in my 30s will put me out of my misery,” Bucky half-joked.  Steve was silent.  Bucky turned to him and scoffed.  “It’s a joke.  Go, I’ll take the closing shift.  Say hi to Peg for me.”

“I’ll take your next closing, I promise.  Thanks punk,” Steve gave him a quick hug.

“Yeah whatever, jerk,” Bucky laughed.  As Steve went to the back to change, Bucky went to the host stand and figured out who was his next table.

“Whatcha got for me, witchy woman?” he leaned against the stand.  Wanda gave him a quick glance.  

“I told you to stop calling me that,” she sighed, looking back down at the list.

“It’s not my fault you got witch eyes.  And I never said that was a bad thing,” Bucky said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah whatever,” she rolled her amber eyes.  “You’re gonna love this one.  A Wall Street investment heiress, with some famous friends,” she gave him an unimpressed look.

“An heiress, huh?  Well maybe she’ll be my next sugar mama,” he joked, giving her a wink as he adjusted his apron.

“You wouldn’t know how to be a sugar baby even if you tried,” she sassed back at him.  “Table 42.  She’s all yours.”

“Thanks babes,” he sing-songed at her before heading towards his section.  As he approached table 42 he tried to see who the heiress was, but she was unfortunately facing away from him.  Her friends, though, he easily recognized from some of the most recent films that had just hit theaters: Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov.  Jackpot, he thought with a wry smile.

“Good evening, folks, welcome to Marea.  My name is Bucky and I’ll be your server tonight.  Could I get you started with some drinks?  Or a review of our wine list?” He gave them all a friendly smile as he looked each of them in the eye at least once.  The actors gave him quick smiles and glances before ordering generic wines and waters, then the heiress caught his eye.  He almost did a double take once he realized who she was.  Y/N Y/L/N, the daughter of Wall Street Tycoon Gerald Y/L/N.  She was set for life and beyond.  Her father was the investment king, knowing just when to buy in or sell out.  She had taken on his legacy by doing the same but instead of investing in huge corporations she was investing in smaller businesses and projects, being the key investor until the business could truly thrive, giving her investment a return and getting a chance to grow in an area like New York City.  She was the reason the new burlesque club opened that Steve was going to with Peggy.  Not only was she wealthy, she was beautiful.  Short in stature and plus size, she was an anomaly surrounded by her tall and slim friends, but she embraced her size and used it as a way to both literally and figuratively take up space in the industry and bring attention to the issues of body image, fatphobia, and investing in plus size companies and designers who she exclusively worked with for clothing her for events. 

Bucky tried not to ogle and quickly gave her his best flirtatious smile.  “And for you?” he asked her.

Y/N gave him an appreciative smile and her bright Y/C/E eyes seemed to really look at him rather than a passing glance like her friends.  “I’d like to hear the wine menu, please.”

“Wonderful, we have a…” As he listed off the wines Y/N watched him intently, her eyes searching his face.  He felt like he was the one being ogled and yet he persevered, trying not to sound nervous while serving some of the most influential and popular people in the world.

“It all sounds delicious, but I’m a creature of habit, so I think I’ll stick with my favorite Rose, the Billecart-Salmon.  And I’ll also have water on the side.”

“Excellent choice, ma’am.  Give me a moment and I’ll get those drinks out to you all,” he glanced at them all again before slipping away to the bar for the drinks.

Y/N watched him leave, a small smile on her face, before turning back to her friends.  They eyed her ruefully with mischievous smiles.  “What?” she asked.

“He’s cute,” Natasha commented, one eyebrow raised at her.

“Very cute.  One could even say hot,” Clint added, watching Bucky walk back to the bar.  “He’s got a great ass.  Too bad he’s working here.  He’d look divine in a Prada campaign.”

“You two stop it,” Y/N whispered, giving them a wide eyed glare.  “Yes he’s cute.”

“You gonna go for it?” Natasha asked, her grin twisting into something conspiratorial.

“Oh do it!  If you won’t, I’ll try my luck,” Clint shifted in his seat as he continued watching Bucky.  “See if he goes both ways.”

Bucky was walking back with the drinks on a tray.  Y/N narrowed her eyes and made the gesture for them to zip it.

“Alright, here are your drinks!  Your waters, and the Sauvignon blanc for you,” he set it in front of Clint, “the Stella Artois for you,” he set it in front of Natasha, “and the Billecart-Salmon Rose for you.”  He delicately set it in front of Y/N giving her another warm smile.  She reciprocated it as she reached for her wine.  She took a quick sip and her eyes fluttered shut.  

“Perfect, thank you Bucky,” she said as she licked her lips.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly before he caught himself.  “Well, would you like to start with any appetizers?  Or jump right into the good stuff?” he huffed a laugh.

“I’d like the lobster with the salad,” Clint ordered.  “And could you make sure that the lobster is really big and thick.  I like them meaty.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at him and his not-so-subtle innuendo.  Bucky knew what he was doing and just let it slide, nodding in agreement.  “I’ll put in a good word with the chef.”  

Natasha next to him giggled before ordering.  “I’ll just take the scallops and shrimp.”

Bucky nodded before turning to Y/N.  “I’ll have the crab cakes and risotto, please.”  He nodded again and gave her a smirk.

“My favorite,” he gave her a wink, making her blush. “I’ll get those in and come back to check on you all in a little bit,” he swept the table with a smile before walking back to the kitchen.

“Stop it, don’t embarrass him,” Y/N chastised Clint.  “I’m sure he and the other servers get enough grief from creepy patrons all the time.”

“Oh it was just a little fun.  Besides, he’s all eyes for you, honey, he barely even looked at me,” he shot back at her as he sipped his wine. 

“It’s true,” Natasha said, then gave her an exaggerated wink. Y/N rolled her eyes.  “I think you should ask him out.  Or maybe he can be your next sugar baby.”

“Oh don’t bring that up again,” Y/N groaned.  “It was a one time thing and ended badly.  I just wanted to try it.”

“It ended badly because he was an ass, not because of anything you did.  You gave him charity and he gave you an attitude.  This guy seems sweet, nothing can hurt from just asking,” Natasha chided her, reaching out and pinching Y/N’s arm lightly.  

Y/N considered her words.  She had wanted to try out the lifestyle of being a sugar mama to a sugar baby.  She had a lot of events to go to throughout the year, and as much as she enjoyed spending time with her friends and networking with people, she was getting really tired of these high-class, ridiculous men who thought that just by being famous or wealthy that she would throw herself at them.  They wanted to use her for her name and connections.  They never really cared about her.  So she had tried being a sugar mama to a man who wasn’t famous, down on his luck, and just trying to get a leg up in life to escort her to these functions and give her companionship.  But once he’d gotten his debts paid off by her and a taste of luxury he quickly became influenced by the rich douchebags around him and started treating Y/N disrespectfully, so much so that he’d made front page news of some tabloids and embarrassed her.  She kicked him out after that and blacklisted him from any upcoming events.  If there was one thing that she would never condone it was when others tried, directly or indirectly, to humiliate or embarrass her.

Bucky did seem nice, and very tired.  The dark circles under his eyes and his shirt not being as ironed as some of the other servers were small giveaways that he was struggling.  She didn’t want to embarrass him either by asking to be her sugar baby and assuming that he was struggling financially.  

“He is very handsome,” she conceded, a larger smile spreading across her face.

Natasha squealed, clapping her hands joyfully.  “Do it!”

The night dragged on as they ate their delicious meals and ordered more glasses of wine.  Other patrons were clearing out as it got later and closer to closing time.  As tired as Bucky was, doing his nightly closing duties quietly and discreetly so his table couldn’t see, he was banking on their tips.  High end restaurants meant high end clients meant high end tips, and he had rent coming due next week.  He packed on the compliments to Y/N and her friends, gave them warm and flirty smiles, offered complimentary items, and gave all his attention to them exclusively.  Y/N had asked to compliment the chef and when he came out and talked to her table she whispered something to him that he quickly agreed to and jogged back to the kitchen.  Bucky gave him a questioning glance but the chef waved him off.

Bucky watched carefully until he saw Y/N’s hand raise and her eyes searched for him.  His cue for the check, which he quickly grabbed and brought it over to her.  As he glanced at the insane price he noticed an extra meal that wasn’t supposed to be on there as he got to the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N, there seems to be a mistake on the bill, I apologize, let me go–”

“No mistake, Bucky,” Y/N reassured him just as the chef came back out with a doggy box.  He handed it to her and thanked her for coming.  Y/N shook his hand and slipped something into it before  he disappeared back to the kitchen wearing a rare smile.  “Thank you,” she reached for the bill and slid her black American Express into the folder.  

“Oh, alright, I’ll be right back then,” Bucky composed himself after the mini heart attack he just had from thinking the bill was wrong as he walked back to the stand to take her payment.  Once everything was paid he brought back the folder, this time seeing her friends standing and putting on their coats while she stayed seated.  

“Thank you, Bucky,” Natasha said his name seductively as she passed him.  Clint gave him a little wave and a smirk as he left with her.  

“Have a good night!” He called after them.  He approached the table as Y/N was opening her wallet.  “Here’s the receipt Miss Y/L/N.  Thank you for coming in tonight.”

“No thank you for such excellent service, Bucky,” she complimented him as she took the folder again.  “Will you sit with me for a moment?”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised and he glanced back at the bar.  The manager, Pietro, and Wanda motioned to him to do as she asked.  “Yes, of course,” Bucky accepted and sat himself in the chair across from her where Clint sat previously.  

Her gaze flicked over him as she opened the folder, took the pen provided and filled out the parts of the receipt meant for her.  She closed it and slid it over to Bucky who thanked her and placed it in front of himself.

“I have a proposition for you, Bucky.  And please understand when I ask this that you are under no obligation to accept it and I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she started, looking a little nervous.

“Okay,” Bucky stated lamely as he watched her.  

Y/N cleared her throat and put her fidgeting hands down in her lap.  “I would like to offer you a type of job.  As an escort, a sugar baby, to me.”  Bucky’s eyes widened comically as he processed what she said. “I know it’s a strange request.  But it’s something that I enjoy trying and it helps others…sometimes.  I don’t want to assume anything of you, but I can tell when someone is struggling, and you look like life has not always been the easiest or kindest to you.  I mean no offense.”

“None taken,” he replied automatically.  “I…yes,” he looked down as he confessed to her.  “It’s been, uh, rough, to say the least.”

“Hm,” Y/N hummed.  She reached a finger out and pointed to the closed folder.  She gestured for him to open it.  He did and took a look over the receipt, nearly choking when he saw the amount on the tip line.

“No, no Miss Y/L/N, this is too much,” Bucky protested as he stared at the number. 

“That’s what your service was worth.  You are worth every cent, and more,” Y/N praised him.  “You don’t have to decide tonight, Bucky, but in the meantime, here’s my card,” she slipped a business card over to him. “Think about it,” she said as she stood up.  Bucky quickly stood up with her.  Y/N stepped closer to him and reached for his hand.  They shook hands and she leaned in and whispered to him, “By the way, you’re very handsome.”  Bucky’s eyes bulged and he swallowed hard as she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek then turned and left.  Bucky realized as he watched her leave that she had slipped something into his hand.  He opened his hand to find a small folded wad of one hundred dollar bills in his palm.  “Oh and that’s for you!” She called out and motioned towards the doggy box still sitting on the table.  “Your favorite.  Dinner’s on me,” she said and gave him a wink then twirled back around and out the door.  

After she was out of the restaurant and beyond hearing Wanda and Pietro ran up to him.  “How much did she give you?”  Wanda squealed as she looked at the bills in his hand.  He quickly counted it.

“$1000,” he whispered as he gawked at the money.

“Give me that,” Pietro demanded as he took the folder from Bucky.  He opened it and gasped.  “She gave you a $2500 card tip??  What did you do, Barnes, give her and everybody at her table a blow job?”

“Wow…I don’t know if I want to be her or be on her,” Wanda said wistfully as she looked back out the glass door where Y/N had already gotten into her car and drove off.  

Bucky felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he stared at the bills, the $2500 floating around in his mind.  He was not comprehending just how much she had given him.  He looked at her business card again and knew he had to at least meet with her and find out what she was offering.  But to become an actual sugar baby?  To have a sugar mama?  To have his debt disappear?  To be taken care of?  He smiled as his fingers touched where her lips had been. 

**this picture has me SALIVATING. This is what I imagine sugar baby!Bucky to look like in this. Hope y'all like it!**

[physalian]

Can we maybe stop gratuitously filming SA in works that aren't trying to romanticize it?

*trigger warning for depiction of SA and abuse in media

Something I’d like to see done away with not because I’m a prude but because it’s gratuitous as hell is SA in visual media put on the screen. On the one hand, being able to show that this happens and inviting an unaware audience to see how horrific it can be is good for exposure.

In the last episode of season one of Outlander, for example, male love interest gets pretty graphically abused by the male villain in a series of flashbacks. It’s not romanticized, there’s not a shred of seductiveness or sexiness going on. It’s torture. Viewer discretion is advised.

But on the other hand, particularly later in the same show (and many “Adult” shows) it’s filmed for the sake of being filmed, because it’s ~titillating~ and there’s a non-insignificant part of the audience who tune in just to see characters abused, that’s why “torture p*rn” is a thing.

But it’s still gratuitous as hell, depending on how its framed, who the camera is following, what shots they linger on, how it’s lit and scored and edited so that, regardless of what the audience walks away thinking, it's clear that the director and the writers are romanticizing what’s going on.

In books, too, writers: You can absolutely write whatever X-rated stuff you want. This isn’t pro-censorship or purity police. I’m asking you to ask yourself why you’re explicitly writing an SA scene in a story that doesn’t need it (not attacking "dark fics" okay?).

Is it so the audience can experience the horror of the character, or so the audience can get off on the character’s horror?

There’s mentioned SA in Eternal Night. It’s part of a character’s backstory. But the other party will never show up in the books, not even in flashbacks. The abuser doesn’t deserve even that much. I can get the vibe of “this thing is horrific” across without detailing a play-by-play, and you can, too. To write my character into a flashback of that moment is to invite audiences to be entertained by his suffering. I’ll write my characters suffering plenty for entertainment, I’ll hint at plenty more because my characters can really take a beating, but making it explicit is a step too far for me.

Do I care if somebody writes an E-rated fic depicting it someday? No, do what you want, but I as the author, won’t set that precedent.

There’s something powerful in a hard-cut to the aftermath, in letting the audience’s imagination fill in the missing scene with the worst thing they can think of. In the narrator being so traumatized that they can’t even describe it to the audience after the fact. In the narrator only giving you hints based off how they clean themselves up after, or don’t, how they sit there trying to process what just happened or the little details they fixate on because to think about what really happened in its entirety is too much.

Point being: You can include some fucked up themes without putting characters through a gauntlet of inviting audiences to look at them when they’re most vulnerable, as a voyeur into what might be the darkest moments of their lives. I know they’re not real people, obviously, but you can give your characters respect of “looking away”.

And for works that know what they’re doing and embrace this stuff with open arms—I’m not talking to you. If this is your point, this is what you set out to write—I’m not talking to you.

I have many, many issues with the gratuitous assault in GOT, but for the Sansa/Ramsay scene (you know the one) they actually had some restraint for once and didn’t point the camera at Sansa. The camera was watching Theon being forced to be the voyeur, while all you had was the sounds and your imagination. To film Sansa is to be complicit, however unintentionally, in saying “it’s okay to watch and enjoy this”.

So. Yeah.

[e-dubbc11]

No One Needs to Know

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: little drinking, smooches, fluff, maybe a swear word or two

Word Count: 1.6K-ish

Summary: Takes place before Billy and Reader get together, when they’re still crushing on each other and one scene in present day

A/N: Part of the Sweetest Pain Series. I’ll leave the rest of the series linked HERE so I heard the song No One Needs to Know by Shania Twain last week and it just reminded me of this series and sparked this little idea. I’ll link the song at the end.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕💕

Billy didn’t know.

He had no idea that every time he touched you, every cell in your body tingled from the top of your head, all the way down to your toes and the hair on the back of your neck would stand up.

But he was your tattoo artist, he was supposed to touch you, he was supposed to rest his long talented fingers on your warm soft skin as he drew permanent works of art on you for everyone to see, but you weren’t supposed to be turned on by it. The needle gently scratching the surface of your skin for hours, although painful at times, was the best kind of pain and it kept you going back for more.

The growing ache between your thighs, the butterflies in your stomach, and the goosebumps that peppered your skin…all of them were not supposed to happen. Billy’s clean familiar smell of green soap was not supposed to be one of your favorite smells in the world but it was.

Impure thoughts of “What else are those fingers good at besides art?” or “I wonder what it’s like to fuck in the tattoo chair?” raced through your mind almost daily.

A couple of days before your appointments, your heart would begin to beat just a little bit faster than normal, you’d catch yourself daydreaming and smiling for no reason thinking about Billy. You would replay some of your past appointments in your head, how gentle he was drawing little circles on your skin with the petroleum jelly before pressing the needle to your skin, how cool the sharpie felt at first when he needed to free hand some of the flowers on your arm, and how the warm air that escaped his lips moved across your shoulder when he was trying to get the stencil to dry quickly.

All of these thoughts and memories made you question whether or not what you felt for Billy was just a crush or…were you in love with him. Above everything else, the two of you were friends and you didn’t want to ruin the friendship by telling him how you felt if he didn’t feel the same way about you.

It was even difficult to tell your friends what you were feeling for Billy because of his reputation around town of being a womanizer and never having a serious relationship so you never even told them you had a crush on Billy.

They learned how you really felt about him during a karaoke session where you were a little bit tipsy on one of your girls’ nights. You sang Shania Twain’s No One Needs to Know. They figured it out pretty quickly after that. Just as Billy told you he had a secret love of 80’s hair metal, 90’s country was your guilty pleasure. Ever since you had walked into his shop, you had that song playing in heavy rotation.

Am I dreamin’ or stupid?

I think I’ve been hit by cupid

But no one needs to know right now

I met a tall, dark and handsome man

And I’ve been busy makin’ big plans

But no one needs to know right now

I got my heart set, my feet wet

But he don’t even know it yet

But no one needs to know right now

I’ll tell him someday some way somehow

But I’m gonna keep it a secret for now

“Is that song about anyone in particular, y/n?” Your friend Danielle asked.

Her question took you by surprise because you thought you were doing a good job of hiding the fact that you were crushing hard on your tattoo artist, so you just shook your head nonchalantly.

“Come on, you can tell us. We’re your best friends!” Said Jessie, excitedly.

Danielle pondered for a minute and then asked, “Well what if we guessed who it is? Would you tell us yes or no?”

What harm could come from them guessing? You were really sure that they had no idea you had a crush on Billy.

“Sure. If you guess, I’ll tell you yes or no.” You said.

Both of them were deep in thought before Danielle asked, “What about that dude from work? The one that always comes into your cube to talk.”

You closed your eyes briefly and shook your head.

Jessie had the next guess.

“Or the guy from the gym that always asks you to spot him?” She asked.

You replied with a slightly sinister smile. “Nope! Not him either.”

“Well, shit…who could it be?” Danielle asked in a frustrated tone.

You could almost see the lightbulb appear over Jessie’s head when a wide smiled stretched across her lips and her eyes lit up with excitement when she said, “I got it! Ya know how she is always ridiculously happy after she’s done at the tattoo shop?!”

Danielle’s eyes widened and started pointing.

“Oh my god, she has a crush on her tattoo artist!!” Exclaimed Danielle.

Jessie gasped then replied, “I think you might be right!”

The two of them held their breath as they waited for you to reply.

You didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore. “Yes, alright. I have a HUGE crush on Billy, ok. And I know you guys are gonna tell me he’s always out with different women but we’re friends, we always talk and laugh when I’m at the shop. It’s just easy with him and I just…I just really like him, ok?”

Your friends looked at you fondly like they knew you were really in love with him and no matter how badly they wanted to tease you about it, they just couldn’t bring themselves to do it. They just wanted you to be happy.

Danielle worked at a bar that Billy frequented and she then told you something that surprised you.

“Ya know since he’s been tattooing you, he hasn’t been to the bar…at all. Well, maybe a handful of times with Frank but he always leaves alone.” She said with a friendly smile, moving a stray hair away from your eyes.

I want bells to ring, a choir to sing

The white dress, the guests, the cake, the car, the whole darn thing

But no one needs to know right now

I’ll tell him someday some way somehow

But I’m gonna keep it a secret for now

We’ll have a little girl, a little boy

A little Benji we call Leroy

But no one needs to know right now

“He hasn’t? He’s been tattooing me for six years!” You asked with a hitch in your voice.

She shook her head slowly. “No…I even asked about the nights I’m not there. Maybe you should tell him how you feel. He could feel the same way you do, ya know.”

“I have another appointment in a few days.” You said nervously.

Jessie looked at Danielle then looked back at you and said, “I think it’s time to tell him. He really could be the one…and I’m just gonna throw this out there, you guys would have beautiful babies.”

The three of you laughed, hugged and enjoyed the rest of the night but it didn’t make you any less nervous about telling Billy how you really felt about him.

You really hoped he felt the same way.

**********

“And I did feel the same way.” Said Billy, as he kissed the top of your head.

As you kissed him on the cheek, the bristles of his beard gently tickled your lips and your mouth split into a smile. Billy had also been nervous about telling you how he felt about you because he was scared to fall in love, scared that if he finally let his guard down that you would leave and never come back…just like his mother had done.

Falling in love would just be another curse, leading to more pain and self-loathing because he thought he didn’t deserve love.

That’s why he never had long term relationships. If he never got attached, they’d never have a chance to leave and he wouldn’t consider himself weak. But you were different. You were everything he had ever wanted, someone who could make him laugh, someone he could open up to, and someone who accepted him for who he really was. Billy Russo was finally happy because of you, his little firecracker.

“We had beautiful babies too.” You said with a warm smile.

Billy captured your lips with his, your smiles chasing each other in between kisses, and he gazed at you with his endless brown eyes like he hadn’t seen you in a week. With that million-dollar smile and a wink, he pulled you flush against his chest and said, “Well, you know what we have to get now, right sweet girl?”

Confused, you pulled away slightly and asked, “What’s that, baby?”

“A little Benji we call Leroy.” Billy sang softly to you in your ear.

As a wide smile stretched across your lips, his long slender fingers reached for the hem of your shirt then brushed the soft skin of your stomach as he leaned in until his lips were on yours once again.

From the very first time Billy kissed you, it felt like his kisses were meant to be all for you, like the ones that came before you never existed and he’d be the first one to tell you that none of them mattered to him…at all.

Billy had wanted you all along and he wanted everyone to know…right now.

And I’m not lonely anymore at night

And he don’t know that only he can make it right

I’m not dreamin’ or stupid

But boy have I been hit by cupid

And no one needs to know right now

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[musicalmoritz]

Ok ok I want you to think about swap terukane so like clock keeper Teru x exorcist Akane. And also like Akanes the super super popular school president. Yea so like thoughts/headcanons?? (I always cook up the most insane ideas in the middle of the night and I actually remember this one vaguely!)

Let’s talk about the Terukane swap au!! I’ve seen a few people write and draw for this but I’ve never rly read any of the fics or looked too much into it so I’m entirely making this shit up on my own, Ik this is a popular trope so I apologize if I miss any of the sub tropes that are included with it ;-;

It’s hard for me to separate Teru or Kou from exorcism since the Minamotos were a real life clan, but I don’t think I’d go about this in the “Akane is a Minamoto and Teru is an Aoi” way. I suppose for this au it’s most reasonable to say the Minamotos are a regular family and the Aois are the exorcist clan. That provides another fun question tho, are the Akane girls still kannagi?? Since this is strictly a Terukane swap au I’ll assume they are, though if we wanted to take it further we could swap Aoi with Nene or one of the other characters. It’s easier for me to follow strict guidelines tho so I’m gonna keep it at just Terukane being swapped

That alone changes so much of the story tho, it’s very interesting to me. We’ll say the Minamotos are still a strict/traditional family, so there’s still some pressure on Teru and Kou. Just not to the extent that there is in canon. And assuming their mom still died in due to complications from childbirth, their dad would still be absent and Teru and Kou will still have to grow up too soon by raising Tiara. But things would be significantly easier on them since they’d be taking care of the family together. Teru would learn basic life skills like cooking, which would take a load off of Kou. Then since the work would be split, they’d both have more free time on their hands. If one of them wants to hang out with friends, the other can take over cooking and cleaning for the night. Tho that would lead to numerous sibling arguments, since Teru is the oldest he’d probably push Kou around a bit when they’re younger lol. He’d run that house like the military

I want to say Kou is the one the Clock Keepers threaten him with since Teru is so protective of him, but that wouldn’t rly work since they wouldn’t be at school together during Teru’s first year of junior high. As an oldest sibling, Teru is very protective by nature, so they might be able to choose any random student. Once they have him where they want him, they throw in some threats aimed at his siblings to secure their chances of making a contract. So Teru ends up going down the same self-sacrificial route we see in canon, he becomes a Clock Keeper so that no one else has to do it

Without any siblings, Akane is the soul beholder of the family legacy. Self-sacrifice isn’t even an option for him, he’s the only one who can succeed his parents so he must do it. Then there’s Aoi, his childhood best friend. If Akane were an exorcist and they grew up together, Aoi would find out about supernaturals way sooner. Maybe he tells her himself, because he can no longer carry the burden alone. And he knows she’s a kannagi, that something bad could happen to her someday if he doesn’t keep a close eye on her, so he has to watch her like a hawk. In this au there’s not as many secrets between them, so much is at stake so they have to be transparent with each other. Akane’s honesty inspires Aoi to be more honest with him as well. So the obsession between them, platonic or otherwise, is a lot more mutual. They developed sort of a trauma bond at an early age and now they have to look out for each other

Akane’s popularity comes from his natural inclination to help others. He’s such a kind person, even if he can be aggressive. And without him having to constantly chase Aoi, no one thinks he’s a weirdo. It’s a little odd that he’s so protective of his friend, but he’s so damn nice that everyone just shrugs it off as him being sweet. Teru though? Teru is the weirdo

His family is still strict but without the same expectations placed on him, there’s no need for him to try and excel at everything. No one cares if he’s the best student so he can do whatever he wants. And yeah, he’s pretty, but he’s also loud and annoying. He teases people and gets creepily sadistic at times. This ties into my audhd Minamotos headcanon, without the pressure he’s under in canon, Teru feels less of a need to mask. He still does it to some extent due to societal pressure and all but the only opinion he really cares about are those of his siblings, so he’s content to be himself. He makes a few friends this way too, he’s not exactly popular but the people who get him get him. I’m gonna make him friends with Nene in this au, she appreciates his realness

Because of Akane’s hatred for supernaturals, they don’t get along at first. Teru joins the Student Council to keep a better eye on everyone so he can do better at his job as a Clock Keeper. Kou attending Kamome and getting closer with supernaturals has a lot to do with it. When they first meet, Akane ties Teru up and tries to interrogate him but bcuz this is Less Traumatized Teru it goes way differently than he planned. Teru’s filter is nonexistent so when Akane tries to threaten him he’s just like “oh hello cute boy I like you very much.” But the thing is, Akane can’t tell if Teru is joking or not. He assumes he must be, because there’s no way a School Mystery feels things like love and crushes. Still, Teru is so painfully Just A Regular Dude that Akane is forced to see him differently. Cue the typical Terukane “relationship built on trust” shenanigans. Reluctant partners in crime and what not

I’m not gonna go as far as to say they have a Sakura and Natsuhiko type dynamic but it’s similar. The classic “are you flirting with me?” “have been for the past 10 years, thanks for noticing” meme. Think of it as all of Teru’s jokes about liking Aoi in canon if they were directly aimed at Akane instead. Then the “wait- do you have genuine feelings for Ao-chan?” scene becomes “do you have genuine feelings for me?” or “were you serious this whole time?” Their dynamic changes a lot after that. Akane starts flirting back, and instead of using Aoi to motivate Teru he uses himself. “Help me save her and I might take you up on that offer for a date.” And then they do go on a date, at the school festival right before everything turns to shit

Adding to that, in this au I imagine Aoi and Akane are the ones betrothed in the new timeline. This brings in conflict bcuz let’s say Akane used to have feelings for Aoi but those faded over time, it’s all platonic between them now as opposed to what we see in canon. So he has the opportunity to either be with the girl he used to love, the girl he’s been with all his life, his safety blanket…or go back to the boy who’s stolen his heart. Damn that was cheesy, I’m cooking here

Kako also becomes Teru’s father figure btw bcuz he needs one. And despite his dislike for supernaturals, Teru adores Mirai bcuz she reminds him of Tiara. Found family ftw

Thanks for the ask, I hadn’t thought much abt this au before but now I’ve gotten myself invested