#meant for your suit to be a warm orange but i made it a cool orange oopsiedaisies

[nutklcker]

hi hello. Its cider ... can you draw a comedy masked in yellow

Please? And maybe. Give rhem an apple please. Not for any specific reason (just kidding its me im requesting )

also haii i am wavibg at all of you

HELLO CIDER!!! you sent this ask at the perfect time I (Anno hiiii) had just started fronting and OUG happy /pos I love seeing other Masked alters(?) it makes me so happy

I will 100% be drawing you more (with your permission) oh and aso the duller doodle next to you was an alternative drawing idea i had of me putting an apple on your head instead but then I was like "I love the little point emote in game and I know others do too" and I liked that idea more because I could play with perspective :3

[pha55ed]

Pasilyo | F2 (kimi bday celly)

type :: fluff tw/cw :: none contains :: kimi!, paul, pepe, zak, jak request :: beach day kimi bday celly prompt for our one and only summah KING PAUL ARON OFC!! and pepe, zak, jm, jak 🫶 (i have no idea who jm is buttt i know a litttleee bit about jak so this is my first time writing for him!) link to kimi bday celly!

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Going to the beach with Kimi during summer break had to be one of your favorite things ever. Not only was his family super sweet with you, but you got to meet your mini-best-friend, his sister! Kimi loved how well you got along with his sibling, it was always heart-warming to see you bond with her.

As you and his sister played together, Kimi came towards you both. Except, he was swimming underneath the water. This meant that he was playing his favorite game: "shark". Basically, he would go underwater and grab either you or his sister and drag you under.

Although you and his sister hated this game, he always forced you guys to play. As you screamed alongside his sister, trying to tell her to swim faster, you were too late. You watched as she instantly sunk to the bottom as Kimi grabbed her foot. If it wasn't broad daylight and if you didn't see Kimi's ugly teal and orange shorts, you would have been mortified.

You did your best to run away, leaving his sister behind. But you were too slow for Kimi, who was so fast for some reason. If Kimi wasn't a racer, you always thought he would be a swimmer of some kind, maybe a lifeguard. Distracted by your thoughts, you felt a hand grab your foot, you let out a scream. But your cries were muffled as you were quickly pulled under the water and met with Kimi's face.

The only thing you hated about beach days was the lack of PDA that you and Kimi could do. You didn't mind doing small PDA in front of his parents usually, but since you were both in such little clothing it felt 10x times more inappropriate for some reason. Kimi always insisted that his parents don't care and that they're super chill - but you refused to kiss whilst in bathing suits.

Knowing this, Kimi took his one opportunity to do what he's been wanting to do all day: kiss you. Whilst under the water, his hands cupped your face, pulling you closer as he gave you a quick peck on the lips.

Paul Aron | 17

"Paul, I'm literally going to shit myself in the water!!!" You yelled at him, but your pleas were unheard as he laughed. His smile was so bright that you'd rather look at the sun instead of his pearly whites. Although you begged to not go for another round of surfing, Paul insisted that you try it once more.

You borrowed his surf board and was only going on baby waves to test out surfing. Despite the waves being the size of a "pea" in Paul's opinion, to you, they were massive. Although it was your first time, you were doing really good thanks to Paul's help.

So once again, you made your way towards another wave as Paul cheered. Although there were other families at the beach, Paul didn't care and continued to shout praises as you rode a small wave. If he could, he would have recorded you like a proud parent.

The entire day, he's been glued to your side as he helped you learn how to stand on a board, swim you back to shore, and give you handfuls of compliments on your surfing and looks. Even though you felt bald with your hair wet and slightly insecure in your bathing suit, he always made sure to tell you to shut up as he gives you a kiss.

You always thought you couldn't fall deeper for him, but you always did. And the same goes for him: watching you smile, hearing your proud giggles as you say "I did it!" to him, and seeing you without any makeup in a nice swimsuit - he'd marry you right then and there if he could.

Pepe Marti | 21 there's no beach photos of him :(

Swimming was something Pepe only did if he had the proper gear. Not in the cool way, like swim caps or a nice pair of swim trunks. But instead in the loser way, in which he NEEDED his stupid little kid googles and his stupid baby paddle board.

So, as you hurriedly slap sunscreen on him before he ran off, he snapped his dumbass googles onto his face. Just like a dog, he dived into the water and as you looked at the beach, you realized he had matching googles with a different little kid who looked roughly 7 year olds.

And despite being roughly 7 year old, the little boy gave Pepe a weird look, silently saying "Aren't you too old for this?" You couldn't help but snicker under your breathe as you walked calmly towards Pepe, who was splashing around as if he was drowning.

"(Y/N)!" He said excitedly as he handed you his paddle board. "Let's play a game!!" A large smile was on his face, making it impossible for you to say no.

"Okay, what game?" You said with a sweet smile.

"Let's see who can hold their breathe the longest!!!" He said excitedly, before you could agree he started a countdown. "3, 2, 1 GO!"

You watched as his head dived into the water as he held his nose. Little did he know, you weren't under the water...

Zak O'Sullivan | 02

Day time at the beach was something Zak liked, but didn't love. He liked the view, the sound of the waves, and seeing all the happy families. But he hated the sand betting stuck between his toes, the way his hair would get dried out from the sea salt, and the cold breeze that hit him while wet. It just wasn't his style, he'd much rather go to a pool than a beach.

But one thing that he did love, was late night bonfires with his friend group on the beach. Roasting s'mores as you talked with everyone, wrapped in a big jacket as you laughed at stupid stories. It was much more fun than splashing in the water in Zak's opinion.

As you chatted with his friend group, who gladly accepted you into their group, you felt his hand snake around your waist. His head rests on your shoulder, his warm breathe hitting your neck slightly. He felt comfortable around his friends, enough to be affectionate with you.

You smiled, having any of him touch you was an instant way to make you happy. And you smiled even wider as you realized his spare hand reached in front of you, holding a perfectly cooked s'more just for you.

If making a perfect s'more was a competition, Zak would win every time. You laughed at his surprise offer, taking it from his hands as you took a bite. Chocolate was perfectly melted, the graham cracker was lightly warm from the gooey marshmallow.

You felt his hand pull back from your waist, signaling he was going to go back to cooking. On instinct, you grab his hand, placing it back onto your waist. You gave his a small look, that was a silent way of asking him to stay instead of cooking like a manic.

He smiled at you, shaking his head gently as he then placed both hands on your waist as he nuzzled his head into your neck slightly. But it tickled slightly, you laughed as you tried to push him away. But his grip on your waist was stronger as he pulled you in closer to him as he continued to tickle you. His friend group didn't even cringe, only looking away and murmuring how they've never seen him be so soft and gentle.

But he would always be soft and gentle with you, how could he not?

Jak Crawford | 07

Despite how cheesy it is, he loves walking on the beach. Of course he loves the water and jumping in, but he loves talking to you whilst looking at the beach. Watching the light hit you and making you look as if you were sent from heaven. What can he say, he's a big "girlfriend" guy.

Even cuter, is his ambition to find the prettiest shell for his pretty girlfriend. As you chat and walk alongside the shore, laughing at stupid jokes and stories, he'll randomly freeze. He grabs a shell, runs to the ocean to quickly rinse it off and see if it's worthy of giving to you: which is always.

As you walk further along the shore, you're struggling to hold all of the little shells he's gathered for you. But you don't have the heart to tell him to stop. His small gasp when he sees a shell, and then his goofy smile as he runs back to you - how could you ever tell him to stop?

So once again, he handed you yet another shell with a bright smile on his face. Once again, you smiled back and accepted his offer, barely able to hold onto it. As you struggle to walk and hold all the shells, Jak notices and frowns.

"Let me hold some," He says gently, hand reaching out as he grabs a few of the shells he just handed you. As he takes some of the weight, you both continue to walk, giggling and laughing at his stupid jokes and stories once more.

[redcoralpot]

Eleganti - Poly!Stuilly x FTM!Reader

If you saw this before it was reposted, no you didn't.

Warnings: Implied internalized homophobia.

Summary: The heat has managed to affect all of you, and the only solution? A date at Stu's house with a dash of nail polish. You're sure they were both thrilled.

-

The summer heat truly had gotten to the three of you, with not even a cool breeze to give you relief. Rich boy Stu Macher’s parents were away for the weekend, again, which left his house the ideal place to take shelter in. If you had to be honest, you did not mind the temperature– kind of. The bottles of nail polish in your bag clinked together as you walked up the stairs; you knew Billy would be able to sit still long enough for it to dry. Stu, on the other hand, you weren’t so sure of. Not without heat and plenty of air flow.

Speaking of the devil, Billy glanced up from his book as you creaked the door open, leisurely spread on Stu’s bed. He raised an eyebrow at your appearance, before going back to reading, shifting a little to the side so you had more room to sit down. A smug grin slowly spread over your lips as you set your backpack down on the bed and unzipped it, making a show of the little, colorful bottles you displayed inside. You scooched beside it, and after setting down a towel in front of you, cracked open the first container.

Seeming to catch the smell, Billy spoke up, “Nail polish?”

“Yeah, want some?” He watched as you meticulously picked the colors you wanted, his mouth pursing.

“Not right now.”

You shrugged, applying a lavender base to your fingernails, “Suit yourself!”

Your hand flinched as the door was shoved open, smearing the liquid down your skin, only to be greeted by the eccentric figure of Stu. Upon seeing the predicament he caused, he bounced his shoulders and held up his hands beside his head, with an exaggerated frown. 

“Uh… whoops!”

He sauntered over, pressing his face into your shoulder. In response, you slapped the towel onto his face after wiping the spilled polish on the material. Stu grumbled something; it was ineligible. 

It eventually slid off on its own, with a little help from the teen shaking his head, “Suffocate me, why don’t you?”

Chuckling, you said, “You were the one who made me mess up, tough guy.”

“I totally meant for that to happen.” He slipped his arm over you, hanging like a sloth.

“If you meant it, then you have to be my test subject!”

Stu made a noise, contemplating. You wouldn’t force him to wear it, of course, but it was funny threatening something so harmless anyway. After just a few seconds, you felt the weight on your back release; Stu had moved in favor of shoving your bag into Billy to make space for himself. Then, the noodle of a guy flopped across from you, sitting criss-crossed with the most shit eating grin you have ever seen. Billy scowled at the rough treatment, but the expression was covered by the other’s knee.

He leaned forward, “Gimme orange.”

“Good choice!”

To prevent smearing, you blew on your covered nails as best you could, before bright orange coated the tiny brush in your hand. Stu seemed giddy as you took his hand, peering down, applying the cool liquid with precision. It was such a contrast to what his hand felt like; rough and as warm as a furnace. In the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s eyes watching over Stu’s jeans, his book long forgotten. Finally, you finished, and allowed the fidgety boy to hold up his palms. His eyes were wide as he admired your handiwork, flexing his fingers with pride.

Stu tapped the top of Billy’s head with his elbow, “Hey, dude, want some of this?”

“Hm.”

“C’mon—”

“Black.”

You snickered, “I knew you’d crack.”

Billy rolled his eyes and leaned on Stu, holding out a hand. He shivered when you made a slight mistake, and gave you an unimpressed look as you fixed it with the edge of your towel. You could only complete one hand before he stopped you.

“Look who’s gonna be Cruella this Halloween!” Stu sneered, poking the other’s nose.

“Hey, hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You shut the bottle, carefully sealing them all back in your bag, “Fuddy duddy William could be making a new trend.”

“Never call me that again. Is this enough for you two?”

Stu cocked his head, “Lemme think… nope.”

You stretched your body out, setting your belongings on the ground. Opening Stu’s own closet, you ran your fingers over the variety of shirts and robes the guy had. In the very back, there was a band shirt, obviously too small for Stu; he grew out of it by the time he was sixteen. You held it out, studying it, before shrugging and taking it off the hanger. Your shirt flew over your head and smacked Stu in the face, but the air soothed the sweat that was gathering under your double sport bras, at least for a moment. Then, the newer shirt covered everything back up, and the dark material banned anyone from clocking the extra layers underneath.

“Why don’t we go out for ice cream?” you suggested.

Stu pumped his fist, even though your shirt was still clinging to his body. Billy shook his head, a little smile playing on his lips when Stu ran out the door, presumably to get his car keys. You, on the other hand, hesitated when you saw a shadow underneath the shirt, where your chest lay. The only other boy left in the room must have caught on, because you felt a passing hand on your shoulder and a whisper in your ear.

“You look fine, it’s normal.”

He met your gaze. However, someone was getting impatient, as a muffled shout rang through the closed window, “Coming? I’m totally getting pistachio this time, and you gotta be here to see me try it!”

-

[tea-moon-ster]

Fic-O-Ween: Day Seven

Sequel of "The Prince and his Frogs", Leo's love for the movie inspires Logan and Finn. Halloween is in a week. And they need new costumes.

prompts and card belong to @noots-fic-fests, and characters to @lumosinlove.

raiting: G. read it on ao3 here.

The arrival of Leo’s old stuffed frog Naveen brought a few memorable nights with it. Nights made of intertwined limbs squished on the couch, bowls of snacks balanced poorly on said limbs, and too many blankets to cover cuddles and warm up kisses. Those were the Disney nights. A long series of rewatching the old classics began, with the contribution of Dumo’s Disney Plus account Logan still had from his times in the Dumais’ basement. They could afford their own subscription just fine, but where was the fun in that? They could mess up Dumo’s page, filling it with High School Musical’sand Camp Rock instead of his documentaries.

But Naveen the frog also brought ideas.

It hit Logan and Finn as they rewatched The Princess and the Frog for the third time that month, Leo asleep in between them. Little did he know, Finn and Logan were currently having a silent conversation, insisting eyes darting from the sleeping boy in between them, to the TV, to Naveen the Frog on the armchair.

Halloween was only one week away, and they needed to act quickly.

Leo loved the Lions’ Halloween party. It meant candies, loud laughter, friends, and a sense of vertigo for how precipitously were said friendships turning into family. It wasn’t the kind of fear that was usually associated with Halloween, but the free-fall Leo found himself into after three years with the team came close.

That year, Sirius and Remus would host the party. It would begin in two hours, and that meant that you could find Leo fussing around the kitchen, Finn in the shower and Logan…Leo didn’t know where Logan was. But it wasn’t in the kitchen, where Leo needed him, and that’s all he knew. He let out a frustrated huff, because oh, would you look at that, he was in the kitchen, alone, again, preparing food for a party they were all invited to.

Leo snorted again. He ought to do like Kasey, and resolve the problem of cooking for parties by bringing alcohol and mixers. So easy, man. I don’t even turn on the kitchen lights.

Kasey was smart.

Now, the problem itself wasn’t the food. And it would have been unfair to say that his boys never helped. They offered, at least. What really bugged Leo was that both Logan and Finn had been quite…weird, in the past week. Skittish almost. Hushed conversations in the hallway and random walks in the park right after practice or running to the store because they run out of oranges. Finn hated oranges. Leo had been too tired from practice or busy at home to question it.

The goalie wiped his hands as he looked at the big bowls on the counter, where hot beignets were cooling. Now that he thought of that- why had Finn and Logan insisted on bringing that to the party? Without helping? Leo was beginning to feel amiss, as if he’d done something wrong. Were they mad at him? Were they avoiding him because he was too much?

Leo glanced at the clock. Seven thirty. The food was ready, and it meant he had time for a shower and changing in his Halloween costume.

They had decided to go as the Chipmunks that year. Leo had to admit, it really was a right fit: he’d be Simon, since he was the tallest -and blue really suited him. Logan was going for Theodor (“is it because I’m shorter?” “Of course not, baby, the green really matches your eyes”.) And their redhead was Alvin, of course. The costume itself had been simple to realize: red, blue and green hoodies with some brown pants. Plus, he had fake glasses on while Finn had glued a yellow A on Logan’s red cap. Finn had also insisted for a month that they’d sing something while inhaling helium, but that was out of question.

As he wiped his hand on the apron and slid it off, Leo heard the front door open and close, and keys being dropped in the bowl by the door.

“Mes amours, I’m back!” Logan called.

From where, Leo didn’t ask. He studied the messy table and decided it would be Finn and Logan’s problem. He heard some shuffling of plastics and bags, but before he could inquire, Logan joined him in the kitchen, an innocent smile on his face.

“Hey there, pretty.”

He got on his tiptoes to leave a quick kiss on Leo’s cheek.

“Hey yourself.”

“It’s five thirty, soleil. Hit the shower yet?”

Leo scoffed, crossing his arms. “No, I was busy in the kitchen. Alone.”

At that, Logan’s expression turned into genuine guilt. “Désolé, mon cœur. We’ll make it up to you soon, I promise.”

Well, Leo supposed he could work with that. He usually got away with being extremely demanding when his boys used that phrase with him. He bit back an extremely smug smile as he left a peck in chocolate curls. “Also, Finn’s still in the shower.”

“Has that ever stopped you?”

“Touché.”

They were almost ready. The food was wrapped and waiting on the counter and Leo was now clean and less grumpy thanks to an extremely thoughtful Finn in the shower. There was one last thing to do before hopping in the car.

“Come on now, time to put the costumes on,” Logan grinned, jumping on their bed.

He seemed too excited for putting on a plain green hoodie, Leo noted, and Finn was basically jumping on his feet. They were looking at him with big, expectant smiles, following his every move as he walked to their closet to take the costumes out. Leo narrowed his eyes. Too excited. The moment his hand reached the pile of colorful hoodies, giggling ensured.

“Oh, no, Butter. Our real costumes,” Finn exclaimed with way too much enthusiasm in his voice. Logan disappeared in the hallway with a jog, only to return moments later with two big shopping bags, depositing them proudly on the bed. Both boys stared at him with thrilled anticipation. Cuties, Leo noted as he approached the bags with a raised eyebrow.

“Guys, what’s all this? I thought we were set on the Chipmunks?”

“Just open it,” they said together. He huffed but obliged. The questions he was about to ask died in his throat as he took out a soft, green…frog pajama. Next to it sat a plastic golden crown with pointy spikes.

“What the…”

Finn and Logan wasted no time, and emptied the other bag, full of clothes, straightening them so Leo could take a look. There was a prince suite, all greens, leaf details, matched with a darker shade of green leggings and a light cape. The crown was placed on top of it. Next to it, they disposed a simple, yellow shirt, some brown pants, and a white waist apron. Lastly, Finn gently took from the blonde’s hands the big, soft green onesie with the hood that looked like a frog. Then, they joined him at the end of the bed, where he was staring at the new costumes in awe. Leo felt Logan’s strong arms hugging him from behind, and he instinctively brought a hand to the one resting on his chest. Finn rested his head on the youngest’s shoulder, pointing with a finger to each costume.

“Logan,” the prince suite, “Me,” the frog onesie. For the last one, he let a soft kiss on his cheek. “And our wonderful New Orleanian prince who worked hard for his dreams.”

Leo let out a strangled noise, bringing a hand to his mouth, already feeling the tears stinging his eyes.

“No,” he sobbed, “Y’all didn’t.”

“But wy’all did.” Finn left another soft kiss on his nose.

“Surprise,” Logan murmured against his shoulder.

Leo was speechless. He turned so he could hug his boys properly, sobbing and keeping them tight as they let out happy sighs of relief.

“I’m so glad you like them, Peanut,” Logan said, looking up at the crying boy with a warm smile. Leo had to leave a kiss on his forehead, and one in Finn’s hair for good measure. He received a soft hum for his trouble.

“Honey, they’re…God, they’re perfect. How did you…?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Believe me, it wasn’t easy. We only decided last week and had little to no time, between practice and keeping it from you.” Leo quickly scanned in his head every evasive answer or excuse he’d received in the last few days, every random time they left the house without him.

“The last part was the hardest,” Finn added. “We don’t like keeping things from you. Secrets. Bleugh.”

Oh.

Two and a half years into their relationship, they easily shared every day and thought, so Leo felt the difference immediately. He should have known that they wouldn’t let him out of things if not for a valid reason behind, and let himself relax in relief against them. With two last kisses, he let the boys go to take a better look at the costumes. He sat at the edge of the bed, holding Logan’s hand, and looked at Finn, who was still bouncing on his feet.

“So, of course you had to be Tiana, that was the whole point. And this,” he pointed the yellow shirt and apron, “Is supposed to be what she wears at the beginning of the movie, yeah? As a waitress? We wanted to get you something more elaborate, because in the movie there are so many dresses, but we didn’t find anything that would take less than two weeks to arrive, and we couldn’t take you to a tailor because it would’ve spoiled the whole thing, so, yeah…”

Leo smiled smittenly at the fast-mumbling Finn had fallen into, and he reached out with a finger to pull his chin down for a kiss. “Sweetheart, this is perfect. Honestly, I’m surprised you managed all this in just a few days!”

At that, Finn beamed. “Yeah! And I’ve always wanted one of those big animal onesies, so I had to be Naveen as a frog. So, look at you, two princes to escort you tonight!”

Leo let out a watery laugh, unable to keep his emotions down. The surprise had been so sudden and unexpected, and most important, they’d changed their whole Halloween plan just for him, and the things he’d told them a few days before. They’d been so ready to make him feel special that he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah, my two frog princes. God, I love you two so damn much. Okay, let’s put these on.”

Needless to say, the party was a success. Everyone cooed and took pictures of the three of them, and Leo beamed every time someone asked the reason behind their costumes. Logan and Finn just smiled, never taking their eyes off him. And as he spoke and laughed with the team, and Logan ran a thumb on Finn’s hand three times, the redhead thought at the conversation they had exactly a week ago. When Leo had opened more about his love for The Princess and the Frog, explaining why it was so important for him. They talked about it one lazy morning in bed. There was peace, in the intertwined fingers against the pale light coming from the curtains, and a mess of tangled legs under the blankets.

“I think I loved it so much because Tiana was one of the first different protagonists in Disney,” he murmured to his boys, observing their hands playing together in the air. “And I was beginning to feel amiss. Like something was different between me and the other kids. It’s not the same kind of different, but yeah.”

He felt Logan press more into his back, strong arms around his chest. Finn had a little, focused pout as they all stared at the hands playing above their heads.

“I didn’t really know what it was, not yet, but I…I started to think about it.” He smiled. “And I had this big dream. And in my head, it was just…more and more confusing. I thought that there was no one like me in the league. I looked at the stars and wished I could conciliate my dreams -hockey and…yeah, somebody to love. Seemed impossible at the time.”

Logan let out a small, cooing noise, making Leo roll on his back so he could pace the bond’s head on his chest. Leo chuckled, accepting his destiny of becoming a stuffed toy himself. He brought a hand to brown curls as Finn scooted closer, pressing a peck to both his boys’ noses.

“So, you know, big dream, big secret. That movie made me hopeful. Tiana is different, and still, she succeeds.” He shrugged, a corner of his mouth going up. “And I mean, for a while I did want that restaurant to be mine. It was so good.”

He glanced at the stuffed frog, that Finn had insisted on putting on the nightstand, and then at the ceiling, covered in small, sticky stars that glowed in the dark that were yellowing after a few years up there. He smiled contently, snuggling between his boys and closing his eyes.

Leo was now wide awake, and high on the love and the attention his boys had showered him in. Around him, the party was still in full force. People were laughing and dancing to fast music, but a slow, sweet song was coming from the kitchen.

“Hey,” Finn grinned, a hand going around the blond’s waist. “Let’s kiss at midnight.”

“Harzy, it’s Halloween, not New Year’s Eve.”

“Let’s kiss at all the midnights.”

Logan’s hand reached Leo’s other side, wrapping him in between them. He left a soft kiss on his collarbone. “It can be a new tradition. Our tradition.”

And there it was, Leo thought as he smiled and nodded. That’s what he’d wished upon a star as a little kid, his frog Naveen to witness. To build traditions. New, random traditions with someone who loved him.

All he’d wished for. He could have done without the NHL salary, or the rising fame. If there really was just a restaurant, or no restaurant at all. Leo liked to think that they would have found each other in every universe and dimension. Every life, and every era.

[thekidsarentalright]

ok ok i’ve started to process the album but honestly cant stop yelling enough to write a coherent ask so here’s a whole bunch of stuff that has me going feral:

the title track. i think fob just released one of my fave songs ever, it went to my top 5 from them so fast!!! it reminds me of how much the pandemic fucked up for everyone… “thought we had it all” fr!! but like. the strings??? the choir at the end?! SUNSHINE OF MY LIFETIME REPRISE?!?! SHUT UP FOREVER!!!!! (also my bday is the “day after christmas past” so i nearly screamed when i heard that line lmaooooo… followed immediately by “my pain isn’t cool enough”?! literally almost fell over at that point. that felt like an accidental shoutout and then getting punched directly in the gut 😭)

flu game is absolutely my second fave!!! the “youuuu” in the chorus just hits my brain a certain way i’m obsessed!! also i relate to it a little too much 😭

what a time to be alive!!!!! soul punk vibes fr <3 also that bridge goes so hard i think screaming it live would fix me 😭 WHEN I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE THIS ISNT QUITE WHAT I MEANT!!!! GOT THE QUARANTINE BLUES BAD NEWS WHAT’S LEFT!!!!!

the strings in i am my own muse?!?! patrick is just flexing at this point (as he should) <3

my synesthesia went crazy with heaven iowa… it’s this beautiful deep blue/indigo/purple situation and i want to live in it <— totally normal thing to say abt a song

so good right now gave me whiplash right after heaven iowa but it’s so fun! i went from crying to dancing so fast lmao

in general i love space and this album delivered w the references!! i caved and bought the glow in the dark stars 😳

and the living even though it’s painful and scary, especially when it’s painful and scary vibes… fob always knows what we need to hear i swear!!! ur post abt the themes on this album is so so true <3

patrick dressed as a chicken playing the piano… i love him so much it’s stupid <3 also that music video nearly killed me. couldn’t see the screen super well when they were on fallon and didn’t process that the costume was like… a muscle suit for a solid minute. my brain literally shut down lmaooo 😭

ik there’s like… lyric parallels and stuff i got rlly excited abt but am totally forgetting rn! i’m sure it’ll come back when i listen to the album again (which i’m probably gonna go do rn) but… yeah!! so glad we get to be insane abt all this on here together lol <3 peace and love in fob world ☺️

- 🧋 anon

YESSSS the title track is INSANE with how good it is and how much is in it like. i swear every lyric hits Hard, the reprise absolutely breaks my heart it is so. Perfect. so so so valid for it being in your top 5 fob songs of all time already it is genuinely That Good!!! and made for you Clearly with that birthday shoutout!!! even with the gut punch after. every lyric feels like such a gut punch i swear kfgjdhfkjs

flu game is ALSO one of my top favs, i could not rank this album yet even if it would save my life kfjsdkfj but i know for Sure flu game is in like. top 5 territory. i'm obsessed w it for the same reasons fr it is. too relatable thanks pete (haha i said the thing!)

REAL i need them to perform what a time to be alive live SO bad literally just so i can scream that bridge i think that would fix me fr fr. also just love how dancey it is while having. incredibly depressing lyrics. vibe of all time fksjdhfks

patrick is flexing w his arranging skills all over this album but Esp in i am my own muse and i hope he keeps flexing forever bc it is. so good!!!!

OUGHHH heaven iowa being purpley blue it so pretty... to me it's like... idk a very warm song, orange/yellow/golden so. the opposite of you KFJDSK but still pretty i Also wanna live in it. we are So normal for that bff <3

they are literally sick for putting so good right now right after heaven, iowa it was Such an intense tone shift fsdkjfsh i Love so good right now tho it's slowly becoming one of my favs i think

i absolutely love how jam packed this album is w space references, i was anticipating it but Still am like. fuck yeah space fkjdshkfjs i'm still debating on getting the glow in the dark stars tbh... is u getting them a sign i should too... much to think about

but yeah the albums themes are SOOOO. like. i think what the world needed to hear right now, also what i needed to hear rn, what You needed to hear like. they always know!!!! it is just so cathartic to hear that things might not be okay or better but that you can still live and be fulfilled and have love Despite Despite Despite!!!!

and lastly fr i. didn't process it was a chestplate/muscle suit at first either so was like. ready to die over patrick looking like That lmao honestly i still am he pulls off that look way too well. also pulled off the chicken costume imo <3

[writtengalaxies]

Smells Good, Captain

Characters: Head Engineer Mark, GN!Reader as The Captain, brief appearances by Gunther, Celci, and Burt

Word Count: 799

Spicy Rating: None, just some gifts! Author's Note: ...Yes this is oddly self-indulgent. Yes I can and have made soap with each of these scents before. I...I like making soap.

"New soap, Captain? Smells nice. Suits you."

You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks as you pull back from the hug you were giving your head engineer. Mark's eyes shine with a touch of mischief, and you know he's called you out.

It started months ago. One of the first things you found that you enjoyed doing with your new-found free time, now that you weren't needed to get the colony's day to day needs in order, was making soap. It was hard work at times, making sure it all came together, but it was honestly soothing. Sometimes it was a good way to spend a day, and the excitement of waiting for your bars to cure before you could start gifting them out was enough to keep you doing it. It didn't hurt that it was your own little way of providing for the people around you still.

The very first thing you wanted to try, once you were confident enough, was to try and replicate the soap Mark had been using both aboard the Invincible and since. Not because of a crush, or anything like that, clearly not! Just...he had become such a source of comfort for you that the scent helped you relax every time he gave you a much appreciated hug. Initially, it hadn't been quite right, and you were frustrated with the first attempt even as you handed out the bars to appreciative families. You had to start breaking down each little scent until it made sense, trying to replicate the smells around him.

It wasn't just the crisp, clean notes of his soap that lingered around him, after all. It was the little hint of coffee that lingered around him all day. It was the little touch of orange oil in the scrub he used to help get all the oil and grease off his hands. You played with the balance of scents, working until you breathed in the blend, and could picture him standing over your shoulder, his head cocked to one side, watching what you were doing with curiosity.

It had been a replication meant to help you relax, and Mark knew this.

Fine, if he wanted to tease, then you were going to up your game.

Out of your Leads, Gunther was oddly the easiest to figure out first. Despite the machismo that makes up most of his personality, the best scents you had that really encapsulated him included a hint of of florals. The immediate notes were deep and woody, with the faintest touch of lavender, lemon, and rounded out with a musky undertone. It was just right, and he seemed to agree. Gunther sniffled out a "Thanks, Cap," before wrapping himself around you to hug you tightly.

Which, of course, Celci saw, and then questioned how you managed to make the ADS Lead...well, not cry. Gunther would throw a fit, with guns, if anyone called it crying. But...you made him emotional. So you made her some too. Despite her being the Cyro Lead and dressing in cool tones, she was really a warm person at the core. So you chose the notes of cinnamon and cardamom, with just a little vanilla, encouraging the idea that someone was in a kitchen, baking something sweet just for you. Celci openly cried at the gift, hugging you tightly. For weeks, she thanked you loudly every time someone complimented the scent or mentioned it making them craving baked goods while they were near her.

And that was how Burt found out. Not one to ruffle feathers, in any way, but he still lit up in surprise and joy when you had the perfect answer for his. Despite his part of the maintenance crew working with the reactors, often in high heat, you knew the right choice was going to be matching the poetic habit of speech. His soap ended up smelling like walking right into a lush greenhouse, bright and earthy with growing plants. The bottom note of peppermint cutting through everything brought a bite of refreshing coolness to it. The poetry that pulled itself from the man was exactly what you had hoped for, waxing on about cycles of growth.

As for Mark...well, your head engineer has always been a touch jealous. He's not one to shy away from pouting, and he gets so much more pouty when you show affection or attention towards the other Leads.

That is, until you handed him his gift. One of your perfectly replicated him-smelling soaps. Mark looked down at it, then back up at you, confused. Clearly he had been expecting something unique like the others. You stepped close, whispering into his ear.

"Smells nice. It suits you."

It was absolutely worth it to step back and see his bright blush.

[legends-of-apex]

The Jacket Thief

Robbie Reyes/Ghost Rider x Reader (18+)

Word Count: 1,700

Rating: 18+ (smut, car sex)

Summary: Having been craving him all day you decide that it's a good idea to steal Robbie's jacket when you meet him at the garage after work one day, knowing it's the very best way to push his proverbial buttons. It is. So is wearing very little other than said jacket whilst lounging on top of his precious car. Reader is presented as female.

A/N: If you’d like to be tagged in future Ghost Rider stuff (as I’m sure there will be more where this came from 💀) please feel free to let me know!

“Cariña, have you seen….” He trailed off when he saw you sprawled out on the hood of the charger wearing none other than,”… my jacket.”

He cursed under his breath at how good you looked. You were just sitting there waiting for him, his jacket wrapped around you as though you were a present with his name on it. Your legs were spread wide so he could see you only wore panties. You sat back on your elbows, your chest covered only by his jacket and nothing more. It hung open slightly, leaving the valley of your breasts exposed and he swore that was the best that jacket had ever looked. 

He wasn’t expecting such a lovely surprise to be waiting for him, least of all after hours in the dimly lit garage where he worked. 

You looked up at him beneath your lashes, relishing in how he couldn’t get enough of the sight of you like this, “Come and get it if you want it, baby.” You knew he’d be the one to lock up that night and that he’d have the place to himself. The perfect time for you to set your plan in motion once he went to get changed. 

He swallowed. Hard.

With wide eyes, he took in your appearance and silently thanked whatever god was listening for letting you walk into his life. “You really want to do it here? It’s not exactly the cleanest, chica.” He was looking at you over his nose as he slowly walked towards you, trying to seem casual and like he wasn’t at all imploding at the sight of you and the prospect of what came next. Seeing you in his jacket did something to him. It always had done. But seeing you wearing it in just your panties whilst you sat on top of his car? He would have toppled Rome if you’d asked.

As much as you knew this was a fantasy of his, you also knew he’d literally just finished work and was probably more tired than he’d ever admit, “If you don’t wanna, it’s cool. I can just take care of it myself.” By ‘it’ you of course meant your absolutely insatiable lust that day and as much as he would have loved to watch you deal with the issue yourself, there was a problem already growing in the confines of his jeans. 

When he finally reached you, placing a hand on the car’s hood on either side of you, you knew he was game and willing to do whatever the hell you wanted him to, “You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” You asked, but already knew the answer. 

You had him wrapped around your finger, tighter than a glove.

“You know I have,” he’d told you about it once and you’d listened, listened to every little detail he let out about his fantasy of fucking you in his jacket, “Gotta admit, it suits you.” He opened the jacket wide so your bare chest was exposed to him, the cool leather teasing your skin. A flash of orange made its way across his eyes as he looked at you before bringing his mouth down to your breasts. That meant he liked it too. You tried not to think about the demon being a passive on-looker to all this, to everything in Robbie’s life.

“Shit-“ you gasped as he took one nipple into his mouth and palmed the other. The harsh leather of his driving gloves was a sharp contrast to the softness of his warm tongue. He pulled back with a satisfied chuckle when you were getting really into it, his inclinations that you were strung about as high as a harp right now were correct. You must have really needed a good fuck to go to all this effort. He probably should have guessed based on the text you’d sent him earlier.

“You want it here?” He asked when he pulled away from your chest and let you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, bringing him as close to you as the car beneath would allow. You nodded once in affirmation, and he tugged your hips closer to his and brought you in for a kiss that left you breathless. Robbie’s kisses left you breathless more often than not with how passionate he was. With the way he poured his soul into you every time. But today he was especially fervent, it probably had something to do with the jacket.

“Baby, please…” you huffed as you both caught your breath, “I need you.” The desperation for his touch rippled throughout your body and straight to your pulsing core. And here was nothing in this world that got Robbie off more than knowing you were needy for him.

He loved to see you like this, to hear the desperation in your voice. Knowing he was the only one who could help ease your frustrations made his insides coil. “You want me that bad, huh?” He asked, and you didn’t miss the smile on his lips as he said it. He was proud that he’d gotten you in such a state. All it took was a lingering kiss to your neck before he left to take Gabe to school that morning and you’d been craving him ever since.

You released a quiet affirmation, your eyes pleading with him to take you, to give you what you desperately craved.

With a reassuring kiss to your forehead, he started undoing his belt and unzipping his fly. That was his way of telling him he had you, that he was going to take care of you and give you precisely what you craved.

“Come on baby, spread 'em wide for me.” 

It was a good thing you were already soaked through your panties. Robbie of course made sure you were ready for him, fingers delicately working through your folds once he’d torn the fabric from your hips. He was so turned on by your little display that he was much quicker to enter you than usual. Normally he’d take the time to caress every inch of your precious skin, to taste and savour you. He liked to take his time. But today you were both so needy and the garage didn’t exactly make for an intimate setting that something far quicker was called for.

Once you were comfortably wrapped around him, the pace he set was immediately relentless, working you open so you had to brace one hand around him and another on the car for balance. 

“God, you take me so good.” He groaned, running his fingers over your thighs.

You gasped, begging for more and he obliged you to the point where he grabbed handfuls of your hips as he slammed into you repeatedly, pointedly. Relishing the moans falling from your lips at finally getting what you’d been craving all day. 

Each groan that left him fell so close to your ear that you couldn’t help but shiver at the sound. He pressed kisses to the side of your head when he wasn’t praising you. His words got lost in a sea of obscene sounds.

“Lie back,” his voice was rough and strained, and it sounded so good you probably could’ve come just listening to it when it sounded like that. 

You obliged him, detangling yourself from him in favour of laying back on his car. You were grateful for the new position as it meant you could get a good look at him and he at you. He looked strained, he always did when he was inside you and you knew it was because he was holding back. If he didn’t hold back he’d likely split you in half with how strong he was with the demon inside him. And you caught glimpses of that strength sometimes, although only when you asked and even then he was so careful with you. You placed your hand on the base of his stomach, diving beneath his shirt just so you could feel the muscle that tensed and released as he rolled his hips forward.

The new angle gave him perfect access to your clit and he made sure to take advantage of that, tugging off one glove so he could tease your dewy folds with precision. 

“Shit- Robbie, I’m close” You reached forward to cling to him, face tucked right into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. 

“Come for me, baby. I’ve got you.” His voice was low, teasing the shell of your ear, “That’s it… just like that-“ he cut himself off with a groan as your walls clenched around him.

He pulled back away from you a little just to get a look at your face. Your eyes caught his, still glowing slightly orange, and you met together in a kiss. It wasn’t long before you were both finished and heaving, willing air to fill your desperate lungs. 

He kissed your face all over as you laughed until you caught his lips with yours once more. Then you just sat there for a moment, your foreheads resting against one another’s until you had to move. It was time to go home.

“Maybe I should steal your jacket more often?”  you suggested, looking over at him as he drove. His jacket still hung firmly around your shoulders, zipped up to cover your chest. He let you keep it for the drive home and he was going to have to pin you down to get it back later.

He laughed, a rare sound from him these days, “I wouldn’t make it a habit…” As he said it he took your hand in his before delicately bringing it to his lips, all whilst keeping his eyes on the road. With a gentle squeeze, he let your hand fall back to your lap but kept his there firmly at the curve of your thigh. The weight was comforting, a reminder of his affection and appreciation of you. Not that he’d ever let you forget it.

You covered his hand with your own and interlocked your fingers whilst his thumb continued to knead the softest of circles into your thigh. It was moments like these that made you fall in love with Robbie. His overwhelming gentleness despite the anguish he endured.

[sinner-as-saint]

Let Me Love You.

CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader AU.

Run-through: Things happened between you and your boss over a weekend recently; while on a business trip. Boundaries were crossed, lines were blurred – rather salaciously. Following this; you decide to resign from your dream job because you couldn’t handle the guilt of having been so unethical. So vulnerable and open. Neither could you handle his burning stare at work, nor the craving of being under him each time you looked at him. So you decide to leave before you ruin your own career and further. But then, your boss shows up at your doorstep – determined to make you realize that this isn’t so bad after all…

Themes: smut, fluff, ceo!bucky (because I miss him)

You felt awful as you stepped into your apartment.

Sighing as you looked around; thinking about how the job you just quit had paid for this lavish home you owned currently. Removing your shoes by the door, dropping your bag and keys beside them you lazily crossed your spacious living room and stepped into the main balcony.

Given you were high up, the view you had of the city was to die for. The sun was going down, and usually you loved sunsets but you couldn’t appreciate this one as much as you wanted to. You were stressed; now jobless.

You thought back to the past week you had just hustled through. Monday was weird; he avoided you like the plague. Tuesday was the same, except you caught him staring in your direction while in a rather important meeting. Wednesday, he still didn’t say a word – except for his usual demands which being his PA you had to meet. Thursday he didn’t come to work; which then gave you more time to think about everything which happened recently, allowing you more time to feel guilty and weird.

And today, given it was Friday he was the busiest he’s been all week. Yet despite that, he managed to send you looks which spoke volumes even in crowded rooms. And you couldn’t take it anymore. You believed you were someone who wouldn’t be able to mix work and pleasure and find a healthy balance, so for the sake of your own peace of mind; you produced a resignation letter and placed it on his desk when he wasn’t in his office. And you left for the day.

You knew he always lingered at his office for a while longer on Fridays. So you were sure that by now he must have found your letter. You wondered if he felt just as awkward and weird as you did, and if so, then he’d accept your resignation without any hesitation.

You sighed one more time, taking in the cool air and the orange-pinkish sky. You walked back inside and decided that soaking in warm water and essential oils would make you feel a little better. So that’s what you went for.

 Thoughts of him filled your head as you soaked in the warm bath water. Your boss. James Buchanan Barnes; powerful name for an equally powerful man. He was the kind of person you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Respect, fame, wealth, authority, power; he had it all.

And recently, just a week ago, he had taken over you as well…

-Flashback-

Friday morning you came to work and found out that you would be accompanying your boss on a short business trip. You didn’t make a fuss, even if it meant sacrificing your days off. The paycheck you received each month made up perfectly well for it.

Paris for weekend, to attend a business conference didn’t sound so bad after all.

“Sir, I’ve just been notified that you’ve cancelled the hotel reservations?” you questioned while scrolling through your mails. While you were just a little confused by this, the man in front of you was clearly not.

Sat across you on the dark seat; well-groomed as always – dark suit, perfect hair, perfect face, strong jaw and strong built. He looked like he could be on a magazine cover. Pure, drop dead gorgeous male. Many of your friends often asked you how you kept your calm and composure around him, and how could you not want to jump his bones all the time. To which you answered; you didn’t see your handsome boss in that light.

But oh did you lie.

You were human. And you did find your boss to be super attractive just like the rest of the world did. But did you do anything about it? No. Firstly, that would be highly unprofessional. Secondly, he was way out of your league. Still, it was hard being around a man this handsome. Knowing he was single and available made it worse.

“I did.” he answered, just as confidently as he did everything else. “It’s just one night, Y/N. We’ll stay at my penthouse.” He stated.

You nodded and replied back to your assistant who had initially emailed you about this sudden change. ‘We’ll stay at my penthouse’…

You had shared residence before. Once you spent the night at his mansion because of work load. Then another time you two shared a cabin while on a trip. Once you shared a hotel room because separate rooms weren’t available. But this, today seemed a little different. And you couldn’t place a finger on what it was.

It didn’t rub you the wrong way or anything. He just seemed so cheery, which was unlike the normally slightly grumpy man. But then again, who were you to question his decisions? So you went along.

You two landed in Paris on Saturday morning. The conference was to be held on the same evening, followed by a formal party of some sort, then the two of you would be making your way back home by Sunday evening. Quite a tame weekend… until it wasn’t.

 Throughout the whole conference, you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from across the room. Meanwhile you were talking to an acquaintance – legal advisor of one of the many businessmen who were attending the same conference as your boss. Steve was a friend of a friend but you two were currently bonding more and more due to work.

And little did you know, that Bucky hated it.

He was watching. He’s always watching you. Not in a creepy manner, in a protective way. As a woman, you were somewhat oblivious to the effect you had on people when you entered a room. You never noticed it, but your boss did.

Bucky knew how every man turned their heads to look at you. How every woman envied you. And it was never about what you wore, or how you did your hair. It was always about how you carried yourself, how you walked so confidently, how you were always polite and proper. And so beautiful.

As much as he liked showing you off, Bucky hated it when he wasn’t the only one who had all your attention. Like right now. He clenched his jaw as he studied how this man approached you. Blonde hair, tall and muscular – Bucky hated him immediately. He hated him a little more after he saw how the guy hugged you; a lingering hug which Bucky never got. Then he hated him a little more when he saw how you dragged your hands down the guy’s arm, refusing to let go of him.

You never touched him like that. Bucky asked someone close by and he was told that the guy you were talking to was someone named Steve Rogers, and he was a lawyer and an acquaintance of yours.

Hmm.

He tried to look away but he couldn’t. Bucky envied the guy talking to you. He didn’t like how close he was standing to you. He didn’t like how he kept his hands at your elbows so gently, caging you, keeping you to himself. He hated it.

 Then he asked you about it on the elevator, as you two made your way up to his penthouse to get changed and ready for the party later.

“You know Rogers?” he asked out of nowhere. His tone just as serious and cold as always.

“Yes. He’s… a friend.” You smiled innocently, thinking back to how you and Steve had successfully broken the ice earlier.

Silence.

 You each took a room inside his lavish penthouse apartment. You immediately loved the place. You had about two hours before the party so there was no need to rush. You took your time, yet your mind couldn’t help but drift towards how your boss has been acting in the past hours. First he was all cheery and warm, and now he’s back to his grumpy self.

Oh well.

You stepped out of your room just in time, your boss was waiting by the foyer dressed in a signature, all black, 3-piece suit. He looked devilishly handsome.

“You look lovely, Y/N.” He said softly as you walked towards him. You couldn’t help but smile and tried to hide your face by looking down at the marble floor. Before you could recover from his rare compliment, he reached for your hand and walked the two of your towards the elevator again.

You noticed it then. The shift between the two of you.

The party was amazing. Lovely people, lovely music, nice conversations; what more does one need? Then again, you could still feel a pair of eyes on you. At some point, you dared to look up and you made eye contact with your boss.

He was staring with an unreadable expression on his face. You shook it off and went back to the conversation you were currently part of, but you could tell he hadn’t stopped staring at you.

 You two met on the elevator again after the party, on your way up for the night.

“You and Rogers seem close.” He pointed out.

You were surprised at the tone he used – that of disgust and anger. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

He scoffed, then turned to you. “Is something going on between you two?” Same tone as before.

Your eyes widened. “No. No, what makes you say that?” part of you wondered why the hell was he so suddenly interested in your personal life.

“Just asking.”

You couldn’t help it. “Are you alright, Mr. Barnes? You haven’t been yourself in the past-,”

He cut you off abruptly. By backing you into the corner of the elevator, the cold metal pressing against your back as his warm hand held you gently at your waist.

“Am I alright?” he mocked in that authoritative voice of his. “No, Miss Y/N. I’m not alright.” He confessed. “I’m not alright with you being so close to me, yet not being able to touch you. I’m not alright with seeing other men making you smile,” he inched his face closer you yours, “making you laugh, dance with you, touch you like I can’t. I hate it.”

His warm breath fanned your face. And as the metal cage got higher and higher, your heartbeat increased in the same tempo. Racing. Rushing. Your thoughts were a mess. Your body was tingling, he was so close. Too close. And you could feel yourself giving into him already.

And you did eventually.

“Then what’s stopping you?” you asked in a whisper, and you heard his little chuckle under his breath. This could be a wrong idea, but it felt right. You looked up into his piercing stormy blue eyes and you saw it; the hunger, the desire, the need.

You were sure yours mirrored the same emotions. Bucky pulled away just for a second, to press the key to stop the elevator from moving upwards any further. Then he turned to you again. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered against your parted lips, barely touching them with his own but the proximity was enough to make you lightheaded.

You nodded quickly and his mouth was on yours immediately. His lips moved against yours perfectly. He slipped his tongue past your lips and stroked the top of your mouth, driving you crazy. His kiss was just how you imagined it would be; hot, passionate, and exciting.

Your hands found their way into his hair and your fingers ran through his soft locks. He pushed his muscular body into yours even more and you gasped as you felt how close he actually was. His body heat wrapping around you.

His hands slowly reached up and slid the straps of your satin gown down your shoulders, letting it fall and bunch around your waist. He had been wanting to do that all night, especially since he saw you dancing with that guy Steve.

Bucky smirked at the sight of the flimsy, lacy lingerie you had on; which he was sure he could tear off your body in less than a second. And he did, allowing the thin material to fall to the floor. He gently touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His lips trailing down your neck; kissing, licking and biting.

His mouth didn’t leave your skin as his hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His hand slipped into your underwear with no shame, his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He chuckled upon feeling just how aroused you were. “So perfect…” he whispered.

He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went. You whimpered quietly against him; your gown barely covered your body. But Bucky was nowhere near complaining. In fact, he had been thinking about what you looked like under that dress since the first time he saw you this evening.

His hand gently wrapped around your throat. He gave it a little squeeze and an involuntary, playful smile formed on your face. His smirk grew, and so did the fire in him. “Like it when I choke you, huh doll?” he spoke, dragging the tip of his nose along your jaw as his other hand slipped under your skirt and rubbed your clothed core. He couldn’t take it any longer. “I need to have you.” he growled. “Now.”

He pushed his two fingers past your entrance with ease and moaned right in your ear as he felt your wet and warm walls immediately welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which made you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

Feeling more confident than earlier, you quickly unbuttoned his pants, palming him through his underwear and feeling his erection. You smirked to yourself as he grunted the moment you touched him.

“I want you…” you mumbled breathlessly. All your worries and overthinking left behind, you wanted him bad. And that’s all you could think of at the moment.

Bucky smirked. He lowered his pants and underwear, then he hurried in pulling down your underwear, letting it all fall and pool around your ankles. You stepped out of it and Bucky picked you up by your thighs and kissed you deeply while holding you between him and the metal surface tightly.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms held on to him tightly. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered through the kiss. Bucky needed to be in you already, all he wanted was to hear you scream his name as you cum around him. So he wasted no time in aligning his throbbing tip to your dripping wet entrance.

He pushed himself into you; stretching you out. His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratching at his shoulders as he filled you up; making you whine and moan as he went. You were both gasping by the time he filled you up entirely. His body didn’t feel as foreign as you expected. You two fit perfectly.

Bucky started rocking in and out of you, without wasting any time. You felt all of him; your walls clenched around his thick cock as he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. You felt all of him, the bumpy and the velvety skin of his length. He was perfect as he stroked your walls with his pulsating cock. You were a moaning mess in no time.  

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass; holding you against him, as he sped up into you; showing you how much he missed you. He pushed his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath, all while occasionally mumbling how much he loves you and how good you feel wrapped around him.

He fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. Your hand slid into his hair and you tugged on it each time he pushed into you. You soon felt the familiar pressure forming; pressing inside you as the familiar warmth spread all over your body. You moaned wantonly.

Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure; your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace; earning even more moans and mewls from you.

He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust; it hurt just a little. Your body moved along with his like a rag doll. And you never complained once. You could hear the wet sounds that he caused and the sounds of your skin clapping against each other – it was all too sinful.

He moaned right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back like it always did no matter where he took you. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher… and higher… and higher. Until you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming his name in the process.  

And that was one of the many times he made you cum around him that night…

 -End of flashback-

 Fuck…

You shivered in the warm water at the thought of him deep inside you; how perfect he felt, and how you never wanted to leave that bed with him in it. But then, you thought about how wrong that was; how you shouldn’t have gotten so intimate and personal with your boss. It was wrong, and unethical and a terrible mistake. But it felt good…

Stepping out of your bathroom, wrapped in a soft robe, you felt chills all over your body. Not because of the temperature, but because it felt as though you suddenly weren’t alone in your home. You panicked for a moment. Your heart racing, your thoughts racing faster.

Then you sensed it.

Sensed him.

He was here.

 “Miss Y/N.” He spoke in that damn voice which could make you drop to your knees in less than a second.

Yet you managed to maintain your composure as you slowly turned around to face him. Realization hit you a little late, and you gasped under your breath when you finally saw him standing in the middle of your bedroom. Your initial reaction was to hug your robe tighter around your body.

He looked flawless and powerful as always. Hands shoved in his pockets; accentuating his broad shoulders. That gorgeous smirk on his face. Flawless hair. Flawless face. Bucky smirked. “Oh don’t hide from me. I’ve seen it all, haven’t I?” he teased so effortlessly.

You felt your face getting hotter under his intense gaze. “How did you… how-,”

He cut off your rambling. “I own the building, doll.” he answered like it was the most obvious thing ever.

Right. Of course he owns your apartment building. He also owns half the city.

There was an air of arrogance around him at all times. And you tried so hard to hate it, but you couldn’t. It suited him; the arrogance, the power, the authority. And he sure knew how and when to use it.

You cleared your throat as you kept your eyes focused on the ground, rather than look into his stormy blues ones because they were a new weakness of yours. “You shouldn’t be here.” You mumbled, not hating that he was here.

He scoffed. “Oh?” he raised an eyebrow at you and took a few steps towards you. You were surprisingly not hysterical about the fact that this handsome man found his way into your home out of nowhere. He walked over to you, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him.

You had no other choice but to look up into his ocean blue eyes and you could feel yourself melting already. He pulled you closer and leaned in, gently kissing along your jaw repeatedly. You closed your eyes and tried your hardest not to sigh in pleasure or moan as you felt the softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubble altogether.

“I’ve missed you.” he whispered against your skin, stopping for a moment and kissed you at the corner of your mouth. His arms circled around you, holding you close to him. Your arms circled around him as well, slowly. You realized you had missed him as well. His warmth, his voice, his mouth. All of him.

And just like that, he took over your very being again. One touch of his lips and you were under his spell with no intention of making it out anytime soon. “I missed you too…” you whispered breathlessly as he kissed your lips gently.

But those few words from you triggered something in him. An irritation he had carried inside since he saw that letter of yours on his desk. Overflowing emotions he couldn’t handle; due to which he was here in the first place.

“Yeah?” he whispered through the kiss, then slide his hand into your hair and tugged on it to pull your face away from his. He clenched his jaw as he looked down at you. He was conflicted, should he be mad that you even dared to think you could just leave him, or should he just fuck some sense into you? “Yet you dared to leave me your resignation with no warning?” Oh. “Huh? Is that how it is now, you think you get to decide everything?”

Oh. So he was mad.

“I didn’t mean-,”

He kept going. “Shut up, babygirl.” He spoke softly. “Now you listen to me,” he inched closer, gently biting your lower lip, “You’re not leaving me. You’re not resigning. You’re not going anywhere.” He stated, then pulled away to look at you again.

There was a fire in his deep blue eyes. “We can’t keep doing this.” You tried to come up with something. An excuse. You were looking for an excuse.

“Why not?”

“It’s wrong.”

He scoffed and then smirked again. “Is it? Does being with me feel so wrong to you now, huh?” he cooed, knowing it was only a matter of another minute or two before you give into him. “That wasn’t the case this past weekend, was it?” He moved the two of you backwards, towards your bed in the middle of the room.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for too long now. But you still tried, in vain. You sighed loudly, wrapped in his strong embrace. “You’re my boss.”

He chuckled. “I know that.”

“Exactly.”

“What?” he questioned, already untying your robe as he stopped at the end of your bed.

“You know what. How are we supposed to be professional at work if we’re sleeping together?” you asked.

He smirked looking down at you. “Then let’s not be professional.”

You sighed again. “It’s-,”

He cut you off with a kiss again, sliding your robe down your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “Shh.” And just like that, you melted under his touch. “It’s okay babygirl, let me take care of you.”

He pushed you down on your bed and held your stare as he undressed himself; smirking as he watched how you grew more and more desperate with each item of clothing he took off. He hovered on top of you in no time.

Bucky lowered his face; pressing his forehead onto yours gently, while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned out loud as he did. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to adjust.

“Fuck…”

You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours.

He removed himself and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. You heard him panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you.

“Thought you could just leave me, huh? Thought I would let you?” he mumbled right in your ear as he fucked you relentlessly. “You thought I would let you go? Let someone else touch you, pleasure you, fuck you like this? Did you babygirl?” he growled. “Answer me!”

You whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. “No… please I didn’t-” you were breathless. You tried matching his thrusts but were unable to; so you simply let go. Your body moved against his like a rag doll.

He growled at how your walls clenched around him. “What? You didn’t what? You didn’t think I’d come back looking for you? You thought I would just let you go because you asked for it?” he accidentally let out a moan, followed by swear words. “You think you make the rules here, doll?”

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes were wild and fierce; staring deep into your soul. His gaze made you tremble in pleasure. He looked so powerful. Broad and strong, hovering above you, his cock buried deep in you. Looking down at you like he owned you.

He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. Given his size, he stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain.

Your legs trembled as you lifted them up to wrap them around his waist. This allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and in the haze he was in, he managed to mumble right in your ear about how good you felt. He was relentless, as though each moan, each mewl which left your lips only encouraged him to get more and more rough.

 At some point, right when your walls started clenching around him and when you were just about to come undone; he removed himself from you and flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his hard body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up again.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the thrill each time he felt himself thrusting deep within you.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Can you feel me deep within you?” he boasted as he gently squeezed the side of your throat. But hard enough to make you lose your mind.

“Please…” You could only moan and whimper in response while he kept pounding into you incessantly. You felt him quicken his pace as he chased his own orgasm. And finally he let you, and you came undone all around him – moaning his name out loud.

-

You woke up an hour later, the sky was darker and you felt a lot better than you had all week. You turned to your side and found your handsome boss passed out next to you. A smile formed on your face involuntarily.

“Don’t just look, you can touch too.” His gruff voice spoke up a second later, his eyes still closed. You chuckled and snuggled closer to him.

“So what now?” you asked, wrapping an arm around his bare torso. His body heat was something you were quickly getting used to.

He took a deep breath, smiled and lazily reached over to place a kiss on your forehead. “Now you let me love you.”

[silky-stories]

Whitty having a nightmare about accidentally killing his s/o and reader comforting him with cuddles? 👀

Sure thing! Sorry for the wait by the way, the ask ended up glitching and disappeared for the longest time ^^;;

Hope this turned out alright!

———————————————————————

Too Dangerous {Whitty/Reader}

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Words: 1788

Related Song: sagun - I’ll Keep You Safe (feat. Shiloh) https://youtu.be/7ly7Mhle-4M

Summary: Whitty is scared of losing control and hurting his partner, thankfully his partner is a magician and knows how to make all of his worries disappear.

Disclaimer/s: Death, blood, small description of dead body, a bit of swearing, crying and panic attacks

Notes: (Please read) The start is pretty graphic and may be hard to read for some people, so there’s a double line down further that you can scroll to if you want to skip that part. It gets happy though, don’t worry :)! Also Whitty’s dialogue is in orange, Y/n’s is in blue!

———————————————————————

Numb.

That’s how he always felt after this happened.

After he lost his cool.

After he lost himself.

After his body gave in and combusted into the hot red plumes of rage, engulfing and ripping his body apart in one swift action.

...

After he exploded.

It never took long for his body to piece itself back together, for his pieces to come back and connect and rejoin one another, allowing his mind and consciousness to slowly but surely become clearer.

It was like puzzle pieces, all eventually finding their place as the picture that was his senses to come together, becoming complete once more.

None of this was new to him, he had experienced it many times before.

Only... something was wrong this time.

His vision was still very blurry, but he could make out a few colours, red being the most prominent.

He had never felt especially impatient to regain his senses, but the further along his accelerated recovery was, the more his half healed subconscious screamed that something bad had happened.

It wasn’t until he regained his sense of smell back that he started panicking.

The thick smell of copper and rust that cut through the air quickly invaded his lungs, violating his airways with the essence of metal and death.

Maybe it was the familiarity that scared him the most but...

He knew the smell of blood all too well.

The red he saw was immediately more violent and harsh than it seemed to be before, he stumbled closer to the scene with eyes only partially focused.

His legs still lacked most of the feeling in them, but he managed.

He needed to see what it was, he needed to know who it was. The speed that his blood rushed through his body only sped up his recovery as the picture finally came together.

...

He couldn’t keep his footing as he finally made out what laid before him.

You.

Your bleeding, broken form laid still on the concrete.

He couldn’t move.

Couldn’t think.

Couldn’t breathe.

...

He was trying to breathe.

Why couldn’t he breathe?

...

Suddenly everything hurt. His head hurt. His eyes hurt. His hands hurt. His body screamed in agony and grief at the loss of one of the few people that cared. One of the few that loved him.

What could he do now though?

You were dead.

He had killed you.

It was his fault.

It was all his fault.

It was all his fault.

It was all his fault.

It was all his fault.

It was-

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

Whitty’s eyes snapped open as he hastily sucked in a gasp of air.

He laid there, motionless, greedily filling his lungs with the oxygen that his unconscious mind believed so strongly that he had been deprived of.

He could hear how shaky his breaths were despite the numbness, he was practically hyperventilating as he gave the ceiling a wide-eyed stare.

His form felt frozen in place as images from his dream flashed in front of his open eyes like a movie.

His stillness was disturbed only when you shifted beside him, he flinched, quite violently actually, as your head bumped into his arm.

The groan and words that came from you were his first indication that he shouldn’t have done that.

You were up.

Shit.

“Whitty..? Are you... mmph, are you alright?” You yawned as you propped yourself up in bed beside him, taking a moment to rub the sleep out of your eyes so you could look at him.

When you opened your eyes you saw that he had flinched back from laying down into a sitting up position. He was staring down at you, being the skyscraper that he was. Although there was only one thing that stood out to you, sobering you up from your sleep-drunk state.

“Y... y-yeah sorry I uh... didn’t mean to wake you u-”

“Wait, why are you crying?”

He paused, only now noticing the dark and warm trails that trickled down his face. He was quick to look away to try to wipe them out of existence, the concern on your face had only deepened when he looked back.

“It’s really nothing you... you don’t... don’t have to worry... about me... s-sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He was a mess and couldn’t piece together a sentence to save his life at the moment but he hoped it would be at least slightly convincing.

He really shouldn’t have thought that.

You very clearly weren’t convinced as you gingerly took hold of his upper arms and guided him to you, leaning back and wrapping his arms around your body as you followed suit with your arms around him.

He wanted to protest, he wanted to further reassure you that he was fine and let you go back to sleep so you didn’t have to deal with his emotional baggage at three in the morning. When he looked up at your patient but distressed expression though, made contact with those eyes that told him that he wouldn’t be judged for whatever it was that had upset him... he just couldn’t hold it in.

It started with tears silently starting to flow again as he pressed his face into your abdomen to hide them, his body starting to tremble in your embrace. It didn’t take very long for him to break into choked sobs, gripping at the t-shirt you had worn to bed like it was his last lifeline.

“Oh Whitty... I’m here, everything’s alright...”

You had no idea what it was that had upset him yet, but the need to console him was intense and immediate. Your hands moved to the positions that had worked before, one on the back of his head and one on his back. Small circular motions were what you started with on his back, gently caressing his head with your other hand as you allowed him the time he needed to vent out his emotions.

This went on for around ten minutes. You didn’t really care, you weren’t watching the clock.

He had stopped crying within the first five, but it took another five minutes to regulate his breathing. Now he was breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, the way you had showed him to before when he needed help to calm down.

You continued to console him through actions, waiting to see if he would initiate the conversation you knew he was ready for now.

He turned his head to the side while still keeping his grip on your torso, he looked exhausted.

“...Y/n?”

You were glad you waited.

“Yes?”

“Do you ever think that I’m...”

You didn’t try to push him to finish his sentence, you knew he just needed a moment to get his words straight.

“...too dangerous to be around?”

You didn’t want to ask, you really didn’t, but you needed the context if you wanted to help him feel better.

“In what way?”

His expression soured as he glared at nothing from across the room.

“There’s a reason why there’s people after me, Y/n...”

Oh.

Oh.

He meant himself being who he was that dangerous.

Well that just wouldn’t do.

“Oh Whitty, why would I think that?”

“Because I fucking am!”

His sudden outburst didn’t frighten you, you had gotten used to them a long time ago.

“I’m unpredictable and can’t control myself sometimes! What will happen if you’re around me when I lose control? Human bodies can’t piece themselves back together Y/n!”

You kept silent as you took in everything he said, committing it all to memory since you knew that these were valid concerns and he needed to lay them all out if he wanted to address them.

“I love you... so damn much... but I’d rather be on the other side of the world if I knew that it would protect you from me!”

He moved to look up at you, the fear in his eyes was heartbreaking.

“I couldn’t... I couldn’t live with myself if I knew that it was me that... that killed you...”

There it was, the heavy statement that served as a queue for you to speak, you could see the anticipation in his eyes. It was peculiar actually, the look he held, it was like he was expecting you to agree with everything he just said and run or something...

You tightened your embrace around him to stamp that thought out of existence.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know?”

“I... huh?”

“I’ve seen the amount of times that you’ve been close to losing it, I know how hard it can be to stay in control.”

He couldn’t hold contact with your eyes, the amount of pure love and care for him was overwhelming after all the fear and desperation that he had just given in return.

“But I’ve also seen how much better you’ve gotten at keeping control.”

That was a surprise to him, but you knew that he would know what you were talking about if you gave some examples.

“Remember the guy in the grocery store? You looked like you wanted to rip his head off, and I didn’t blame you.”

You chuckled at the memory of the guy that decided to try to argue why the two of you shouldn’t be together since you were human and he wasn’t. The man was frustrating and made no sense at all, but Whitty’s fuse didn’t even spark, he didn’t lose himself to anger. He gave the guy the sharpest glare he’s ever done, told him to ind his own damn business, and then lightly took your hand and continued on.

His show of restraint was impressive to say the very least.

“You’ve been getting really good with controlling yourself, and we’re still working on it too. I’m not scared of you and definitely don’t plan on going to the other side of the world.”

Your grin was infectious, he hated and loved how infectious your grin was as he tried to stifle the small smile working it’s way up onto his face.

“I’m so proud of how hard you’ve been trying to keep control of yourself, and I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

He... he let himself smile after that.

“I don’t deserve you...”

“And you’re clearly overtired since you’re just saying nonsense now.”

He chuckled, it was hoarse and faint but it was a wonderful sound.

“Really though, let’s try and get you back to sleep, okay?”

He pushed himself up further on the bed and carefully intertwined his body with yours, breathing out a sigh as he buried his face in your hair.

“I love you...”

“I love you too.”

[creativeashproductions]

Songbird Shenanigans // Charlie Gillespie

IN WHICH: The reader will routinely sneak away from her band/hotel to continue her tour shenanigans in parking garages. A way for the young star to return to the stupid years where the concert venue was a car and the mic was the steering wheel. As each city comes and goes with the tour, one thing never changes, driving to parking garages to scream songs at the top of your lungs.

Warnings: Swearing, Mamma Mia songs (oops), and fluff

Words: 4.0k (with lyrics included)

A/N: There’s something endearing about Charlie randomly going a stranger in a duet and dance without a care. This was loosely inspired by the chaotic live they did when Jeremy and Charlie stayed at Owen’s place. I loved Charlie’s tropical shirt giving Animal Crossing vibes.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

A moment you had desired for a while finally came around in Oklahoma City during the free day between the two concerts. The pure quiet away from the interviews, photoshoots and demanding life of a musician. Yet despite wanting this time, you definitely felt bored, which only meant one thing.

A new video for your followers as you had done since the beginning of your successful career. Back before, you had the prominent following you had; now you would travel singing in your car, and then one video got viral. That elevated your following until you had signed a record deal with your brand new agent.

A series was then born of driving at night to the parking lots and garages in the city you temporarily visited. You'd park and sing any suggested songs from a previous video for an hour to see if a fan could find you. It was a fun game you had developed.

Y/N Y/L/N: Another installment of Songbird Shenanigans. From 9pm to 10:30pm, I'll be somewhere in Oklahoma City. Come find me for the prize!

Your agent both hated and loved the series as it brought attention to your career and songs but also was a hazard during the tour. The risk of losing your voice made your agent nervous, but the positives outweigh the negatives.

"What song are you doing?" Maddie asked from her chair in your hotel suite with a ratty book in her hand. Her rich dark hair pulled up in a high bun with a few pieces of bangs pulled down to hang free.

You didn't know if you could do what you do if you didn't have Maddie by your side as your singing partner and chief stylist. Maddie also always knew without looking on social media when you had a new installment coming.

"My most requested video is Train Wreck by-"

"James Arthur." Maddie snickered with her grey eyes pinned to the page she was reading faithfully. The book had seen better days, but it was her absolute favourite one by far and one of the only physical books she had.

"Somehow forgot you had it on repeat for a week straight." You snorted, shoving a hat on your head for warmth. A plain black coat pulled over your arms that matched the warm boots you had chosen, "I'll send you my location."

Maddie waved on hand in response, having known the routine since you first started this fun series. It allowed you a bit of your old life when the concerts you performed was solely in your car with the steering wheel as the microphone.

Judy, your agent, was sitting in the lobby with her binder surrounding her when she looked with a sigh. Without a word, she tossed the keys to the rented car she knew you'd need, so in each city, she rented one. A smile of gratitude shared before you were out the door with your hood up.

"Be careful!" Judy exclaimed just as the sliding doors closed behind you, sending you out in the cold night.

Almost instantly, your cheeks turned a light pink in the cold winter air, even if the walk to the war was short. As requested, the car was a newer model but one that would blend in with other city cars. It made finding you harder, but the windows couldn't be tinted.

"Here's to hoping I get a place with good acoustics." You muttered, starting the hatchback vehicle. Despite the cold winter weather, the road conditions were surprisingly okay, but then again, you were from a small town. Roads were shit in general.

You didn't bother playing music as you used the drive to find a parking garage and warm up your throat. Your vocal coach would have your head if you didn't warm-up, and then Judy would kill you even more.

You lucked out in a parking garage to a building that seemed to be a renovated warehouse with insanely cool windows. The metal was a dark shamrock green with a multitude of small rectangular glass between the metal. The panes swung open upwards in a fascinating design.

"Perfect." You muttered, signalling to turn into the parking garage that was easily accessed and without any trespassing signs. It was desolate, with cars parked here and there in the stalls.

A bright orange Subaru definitely took the cake as the most 'flashy' vehicle among the more nondescript ones. Not that it caught your attention when you lowered your windows marginally while simultaneously clipping the phone onto the dash. Immediately you double-checked for any apparent signs to your location before declaring it safe; with a tap of your finger, your Instagram live began.

"Welcome to another part of our Songbird Shenanigans. This time I'm in Oklahoma City for a two-day concert. The most requested song is Train Wreck by James Arthur."

Laying in the silence

Waiting for the sirens

Signs, any signs I'm alive still

I don't wanna lose it

I'm not getting through this

Hey, should I pray? should I pray

A natural instinct of closing your eyes as you got more into the music occurred. Your voice belted into the garage beautifully. Tons of comments appeared in the insta live chat of both supportive and haters.

username3: I suggested this song!!!

username88: Your voice goes perfectly with the song.

The song came to an end quicker than you would have liked since it was definitely one of your favourites to sing.

Unchain the reactions, I'm not ready to die, not yet

Pull me out of the train wreck

Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

No action was helped back from taking a swig of water from the reusable bottle you had brought along. Your eyes scoured the comments for more suggestions or things that stuck out.

"Why don't you include hints in the Songbirds?” You read out from the comment section with a smile barely held back, "Why would I? You all know that my windows are often down, and even the most unoriginal locations have tells. There's been a few people that have found me."

Username13: I think I know where you are (insert heart emoji)

          ↳Username63: username13 where?! How do you know?

          ↳Username13: jatp is streaming all day and the guys are in a car. Same background

Your eyes read the short but interesting conversation between the two different accounts on something called jatp? Whatever that was.

"Any other requests?" You asked, scrolling through the suggestions, "Sing something from jatp? I'm sorry, guys, but I have no clue what that is? Is it a movie? OH! It's a show. My bad."

The comment section was flooded, "Okay! Let me look up the lyrics and the melody!"

Three males: a blonde and two brunettes, walked between the rows of both occupied and unoccupied parking spots. The blonde wearing a black t-shirt with BEANS written across the chest and the brunette with short slicked-back hair crowded the middle guy. All three pairs of eyes watched the iPhone stream the television series.

"I call shotgun!" Owen spoke as the car in question came into view, "We gotta Livestream in the car again!"

"Your neighbour sucks, man." Charlie groaned, nudging Jeremy to unlock the car when the older man hesitated.

"If we're going live in the car, we should cover your license plate," Jeremy suggested to a resounding agreement. 

Charlie drove an obscenely vibrant coloured car that could be picked out quickly, so he didn't need any help in broadcasting his location. Owen grabbed the book from the passenger seat to angle it to lean against the plate.

"Done!" Owen called, racing back to climb into the car with his friends. The blonde-haired man bounced in his seat as the owner of the vehicle set up the screen.

In seconds, the streaming went from the app on the phone to the car's built-in screen to the boys' delight. In a moment of what some may call brilliance and others stupidity Owen went live on Instagram with Charlie joining him swiftly.

"Do you rem-"

Username76: Songbird chose a shitty location.

           ↳Username 39: Or we just got a Hail Mary hint

"Who is Songbird?" Charlie questioned, leaning closer to his friends in the front, catching a few comments.

The comments were mixed among other unrelated ones, but all had Songbird, Shenanigans or both words. The mystery was so intriguing the boys turned down the show to scour the comments for tidbits.

"Wait? Do you hear that?" Jeremy questioned, scanning the parking garage with his blue, green eyes. Soon his head was sticking out the window, "Someone is singing here."

Jeremy's hand turned the key of the car, "Is that-"

"Oh, no." Owen groaned, seeing that specific light appear in Charlie's eyes just as it did each time one of the songs came on. His pink beanie slid around his long blonde locks.

The two guys watched as the second oldest in their group did some kind of shimmy after pushing his phone to Jeremy. Jeremy's hand scrambled to get a grip on the phone as Charlie delved into his love for these songs. Sharing a look, Jeremy and Owen followed the Canadian to a car with a girl singing in the open hatchback car.

(Italics is you! Italics and bold is Charlie and you! Just bold is Charlie!)

When you were lonely, you needed a man.

Someone to lean on, well I understand

It's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

Your eyes remained shut as you neared the middle of the first verse. You completely stopped when a voice joined. Your e/c eyes met the twinkling brown of a handsome guy with the best voice you'd heard in a long time.

Nights can be empty, and nights can be cold

So you were looking for someone to hold

That's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

Your lips parted in a grin as you grabbed the hand being offered to be pulled out of the car; on your way, your hand nudged your phone. Your phone was in a mount attached to the roof of the hatch. When you followed the stranger, the phone turned in perfect view. Your free hand turned to hover over your forehead, legs bending to feign a swoon.

I was so lonesome, I was blue

I couldn't help it, it had to be you and I

Always thought you knew the reason why

Charlie beamed playing being shot by the arrow you pretended to shoot with a grin planted on your own lips. Charlie's hand flirted with your hip as you sashayed around his body from his left to his right. Hand grabbing a first full of his white with light teal with light pink design to tug him chest to chest.

I only wanted a little love affair

Now I can see you are beginning to care

But baby, believe me

It's better to forget me

In turn, Charlie grabbed your wrist to twirl you into his arms straight into an impressive dip with the toe of your shoe pointed to the far wall. Your fingers just barely caressing the rough paved lot.

"I'm Charlie," Charlie murmured during the instrumental between the chorus and the second verse. Your eyes scanned his features with an expression you would later be glad was hidden from the lighting in the garage.

"Y/N." You breathed, clutching his shoulders still low in the dip, hoping subconsciously that your breath was still fresh.

"Wanna finish this?" Charlie spoke, searching your eyes with his own; up close, you could see his eyes were a mixture of colours. You only nodded before he continued singing to the music.

Men are the toys in the game that you play

When you get tired, you throw them away

That's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

"Are you seeing this?" Jeremy whispered to Owen as they watched Charlie literally sweep a stranger off her feet. Owen could only nod as Charlie went into the next verse, still dancing as if he was in Mamma Mia 2.

Falling in love with a woman like you

Happens so quickly, there's nothing to do

It's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

Charlie spun you back away from his body in a graceful twirl your choreographer would be incredibly proud of. The moves you made somehow made sense, with the movements matching the spontaneous duet-er.

I was so lonesome, I was blue

I couldn't help it, it had to be you and I

Always thought you knew the reason why

Once more in his arms dancing, he dipped you once more as you finished the end of the last chorus breathing heavily. The two strangers staring intensely into each other's eyes with an intense look that had tensions in the parking garage.

I only wanted a little love affair

Now I can see you are beginning to care

But baby, believe me

It's better to forget me

"Intense." Owen chuckled as Charlie raised you back onto your feet with a matching grin to yours, "Oh! Look at the comments!"

Username24: Holy shit! They ooze chemistry!!

           ↳Username9: lol, okay Alex. 

"You aren't a viewer, are you?" You breathlessly laughed, taking a step away from Charlie as the music faded away.

The equally breathless spontaneous performing partner laughed as well, "I heard the song and hoped for the best."

"Are you Songbird?" Came a voice from a few feet away. Behind the once upon a time stranger stood two males approaching slowly.

"Oh!" You gasped, turning on your heel to see where your phone was pointing, "Well, that's convenient! One moment."

Jeremy and Owen flanked Charlie as you repositioned the phone at the moment with practised precision. You kept the three people out of the shot for privacy reasons.

"There is about ten minutes away from the end of this installment being over. For the first time since we started this series, I had a duet." You playfully laughed, looking over at the trio, "It's completely up to my sudden partner, but would you like to meet your audience?"

Charlie simply shrugged, "Sure. They've seen you be serenaded by a stranger."

A short laugh came from the three individuals around Charlie as he moved into the camera frame with a large smile. As soon as he was in sight, the comment section went nuts, furthering when Owen and Jeremy came into view.

Username1: DREAM COME TRUE

           ↳Username4: omg jatp in Songbird Shenanigans?? Life accomplished.

You couldn't hold back the snort at the comments you could read quickly as they disappeared after new ones. The three guys couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"I've never seen these guys before. If you could introduce yourselves." You asked the three guests, to which each sent a reassuring smile to your hesitance.

"I'm Charlie Gillespie, and these are my friends Owen Joyner and Jeremy Shada." Charlie took the liberty of introducing both his friends and himself. His heart fluttered at the adorable smile that had appeared on your pretty face.

"I'm afraid this concludes this edition of Songbird." You apologized to the camera as the time passed the allotted hour and a half. The comments turned sad before most of them started sending questions, "I'll let you know when I do another edition! Bye for now!"

Your finger clicked the end button firstly before clicking the save button for when you would upload it to your account later.

"Thank you for doing that. I'm Y/N." You chuckled, shaking hands with Jeremy and Owen, who each grinned back, "So what brought you guys to the parking garage with three phones and a live-action Animal Crossing shirt?"

Amusement was found on all four young adults in the parking garage, pinning a gaze at the material. You had to admit you kinda adored the shirt, or maybe the person wearing it was the reason.

"We're trying to get Julie and the Phantoms to number one again." Owen offered as he displayed the live still going on his phone. 

"That's a tv series. That was the second song I did on the live before Charlie joined the little concert." You told the boys all the while aware that thousands of people watched from the phone still streaming.

"The phone's about to die." Owen piped up, catching the single decimal number broadcasting the percentage. Without any prompting, he ended the live to save it solely for the little performance Charlie did.

"Did you save it?" Jeremy asked, lifting on his tiptoes to check the phone Owen had commanded for the last half hour. Like Owen, Jeremy wanted to save it solely for the stellar performance.

"So, how'd this series start?" Charlie questioned, pushing his hands into his pockets, ignoring the subtle glances of his best friend.

"I needed an escape from touring so many cities. It's reminiscent of the days before I was discovered. When my audience was the dials in my car and my family." You half-smiled, recalling all the times you had simply driven around to sing.

"You're a musician?"

"I am. I'm currently on tour for my second album. Every second or third city I'm performing in, I take the rented car to parking lots or garages to sing. I always have a prize for the fans that find me."

"Could I get your number?" Charlie hesitantly questioned. His features twisting with the manipulation of nerves.

His palms had gone clammy enough to inconspicuously wipe them on his legs; this version of Charlie was unfamiliar. Owen and Jeremy had only ever seen him as this bundle of joy and energy, not to say he didn't have his low days, instead of nervous. Owen slipped his fingers behind his back to cross them. He hoped his Canadian friend would get it.

"You don't leak mine, and I won't leak yours." Your e/c eyes twinkled with the brush of Charlie's warm fingers on your own. The new contact waiting for his information, "Maybe we can meet up with each other?"

"I'd love that."

Madison Square Garden, New York City, New York, Unspecified Date

The sounds of screams and heavy instruments blocked by the unique in-ears explicitly made for your ears alone. You'd heaved, catching a breath after such an energetic song you'd just performed for the sold-out venue. You just jogged to the side for a chug of water as your band switched instruments.

"Are you having fun tonight!" You asked the crowd who had fought tooth and nail for tickets. The crowd screamed back louder than before.

Selling out MSG for completely insane even after touring the country with your band three times. It was still a little jarring, going from a nobody with untapped potential to selling out concerts and very successful albums, in all honesty.

"That's what I like to hear!" You beamed, pushing a strand of your unruly hair away from your face. Your eyes momentarily cast to the side stage with the equipment hiding the crew, "I have a surprise for you. A couple years ago, I had a spontaneous duet partner during one of Songbird Shenanigans. I'd like to invite my fiance Charlie out here."

The crowd went nuts as Charlie wandered towards you from the side of the stage away from Owen, Jeremy and Madison. Charlie's hazel eyes scoured the oceans of your e/c eyes he got to wake up to each morning. Mostly when Julie and the Phantoms had been offered to open for you; to be frank, it was more of an unspoken co-headlining.

"Can we tell?" You asked, keeping the mic covered and away from your body. Your body bounced, waiting for the smile from him.

Charlie nodded, accepting the guitar from one of the crew members. It was a song you had written a few months back. Charlie had memorized the entire piece with the deep adoration he felt for it.

The couple perched on the bar stools brought to the middle of the stage with a secret smile. One that only they and their immediate family understood.

Three months ago, you had sat Charlie down in your home to play him a little song that changed everything.

Charlie placed the last bag of groceries on the counter when he felt arms wrap around his midsection. He immediately knew that it was you welcoming him home from a very short trip to the store. In a swift move, he had manoeuvred you to sit on the counter while he scooched himself between your legs.

"Hi." Charlie breathed, rising to press a kiss against the smooth skin of your cheek, leaving heat in its wake.

"I want your opinion on a song." You burst out, unable to refrain from showing him a song you had been secretly working on. The French Canadian was beyond intrigued by the sudden announcement from his fiance.

"Oh?"

"Come." You coaxed the man from the kitchen to the designated music room filled with instruments of all kinds—even a recent addition of a recording booth in the corner with high-end equipment.

You bypassed everything for the grand piano you didn't play as often as you wished to be able to. Your fingers brushed the ivory keys for a mere second before you began playing the melody.

I, I have known love before

I thought it would no more

Take on a new direction

Still, strange as it seems to be

It's truly new to me

That affection

The smile that grew across Charlie's expressive face was uncapturable from the best of the best; he adored your voice. He had a personal ringtone you had explicitly done for him a few months into the relationship.

I, I don't know what you do

You make me think that you

Will change my life forever

I, I'll always want you near

Give up on you, my dear

I will never

You thrill me, you delight me

You please me, you excite me

You're all that

I've been yearning for

I love you, I adore you

I lay my life before you

I only want you more and more

And finally it seems

My lonely days are through

I've been waiting for you

Charlie's frown, however, faltered as your face ever so slightly paled with trepidation coating your pretty irises. Your voice even quivered with nerves he'd never heard before, but it made sense from the third verse started.

I'll carry you all the way

And you will choose the day

When you're prepared to greet me

I'll be a good mum, I swear

You'll see how much I care

When you meet me

You finished the song with the last note drawn out ever so softly, freezing as the room went quiet once more. This song was definitely vulnerable and personal; you felt naked under Charlie's silent stare.

"You're really?" Charlie breathlessly chuckled, his wide eyes screaming disbelief.

After a few years together with an engagement ring on both of your fingers after you had both proposed to each other, with the relationship very serious, you two had decided to stop contraceptives and let everyone happen if it was too happen.

"Yeah." You laughed as he swept you off the bench into his arms, "We have little Birdie to prepare for."

"I love you so damn much." Charlie choked out, spinning the two of you around in his arms. The smile never fading as he drank in the special moment of learning you had created a life together.

PRESENT

"With the impending arrival of our child, I will be taking a break to prepare. Even though I wouldn't be performing, I will still do Songbird Shenanigans. I'll just have to up my game on staying as hidden as possible." You informed the audience as the song came to an end. 

Next thing you knew, you couldn't discern between the crowd and your friends now on stage screaming. You were able to feel Charlie's hand on your barely-there baby bump and his lips pressed against your temple.

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[redcoralpot]

Would you be willing to write a poly Billy x Stu x reader (preferably trans ftm) where Y/N is such like a gender fluid icon

One day he’ll be painting his nails, begging the boys to paint their nails aswell, and then the next day he’s wearing some band shirt, having Stu take pictures of him with the camera Billy got him, flexing the small but masculine body he has

Oh, and a one shot preferably pls

Thxs! And if your uncomfortable w/ this what’s so ever feel free to js ignore !

🫶❤️

Eleganti - Poly Stuilly X FTM!Reader

Summary: The heat has managed to affect all of you, and the only solution? A date at Stu's house with a dash of nail polish. You're sure they were both thrilled.

Warnings: Slight mentions of body dysphoria.

Word Count: 970

A/N: This is for my fellow trans men, enjoy! Can't believe I have to say this nowadays, but fem aligned DNI, this content is not for you. I know how Scream fangirls like to play when it comes to MLM characters and fans.

-

The summer heat truly had gotten to the three of you, with not even a cool breeze to give you relief. Rich boy Stu Macher’s parents were away for the weekend, again, which left his house the ideal place to take shelter in. If you had to be honest, you did not mind the temperature– kind of. The bottles of nail polish in your bag clinked together as you walked up the stairs; you knew Billy would be able to sit still long enough for it to dry. Stu, on the other hand, you weren’t so sure of. Not without heat and plenty of air flow.

Speaking of the devil, Billy glanced up from his book as you creaked the door open, leisurely spread on Stu’s bed. He raised an eyebrow at your appearance, before going back to reading, shifting a little to the side so you had more room to sit down. A smug grin slowly spread over your lips as you set your backpack down on the bed and unzipped it, making a show of the little, colorful bottles you displayed inside. You scooched beside it, and after setting down a towel in front of you, cracked open the first container.

Seeming to catch the smell, Billy spoke up, “Nail polish?”

“Yeah, want some?” He watched as you meticulously picked the colors you wanted, his mouth pursing.

“Not right now.”

You shrugged, applying a lavender base to your fingernails, “Suit yourself!”

Your hand flinched as the door was shoved open, smearing the liquid down your skin, only to be greeted by the eccentric figure of Stu. Upon seeing the predicament he caused, he bounced his shoulders and held up his hands beside his head, with an exaggerated frown. 

“Uh… whoops!”

He sauntered over, pressing his face into your shoulder. In response, you slapped the towel onto his face after wiping the spilled polish on the material. Stu grumbled something; it was ineligible. 

It eventually slid off on its own, with a little help from the teen shaking his head, “Suffocate me, why don’t you?”

Chuckling, you said, “You were the one who made me mess up, tough guy.”

“I totally meant for that to happen.” He slipped his arm over you, hanging like a sloth.

“If you meant it, then you have to be my test subject!”

Stu made a noise, contemplating. You wouldn’t force him to wear it, of course, but it was funny threatening something so harmless anyway. After just a few seconds, you felt the weight on your back release; Stu had moved in favor of shoving your bag into Billy to make space for himself. Then, the noodle of a guy flopped across from you, sitting criss-crossed with the most shit eating grin you have ever seen. Billy scowled at the rough treatment, but the expression was covered by the other’s knee.

He leaned forward, “Gimme orange.”

“Good choice!”

To prevent smearing, you blew on your covered nails as best you could, before bright orange coated the tiny brush in your hand. Stu seemed giddy as you took his hand, peering down, applying the cool liquid with precision. It was such a contrast to what his hand felt like; rough and as warm as a furnace. In the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s eyes watching over Stu’s jeans, his book long forgotten. Finally, you finished, and allowed the fidgety boy to hold up his palms. His eyes were wide as he admired your handiwork, flexing his fingers with pride.

Stu tapped the top of Billy’s head with his elbow, “Hey, dude, want some of this?”

“Hm.”

“C’mon—”

“Black.”

You snickered, “I knew you’d crack.”

Billy rolled his eyes and leaned on Stu, holding out a hand. He shivered when you made a slight mistake, and gave you an unimpressed look as you fixed it with the edge of your towel. You could only complete one hand before he stopped you.

“Look who’s gonna be Cruella this Halloween!” Stu sneered, poking the other’s nose.

“Hey, hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You shut the bottle, carefully sealing them all back in your bag, “Fuddy duddy William could be making a new trend.”

“Never call me that again. Is this enough for you two?”

Stu cocked his head, “Lemme think… nope.”

You stretched your body out, setting your belongings on the ground. Opening Stu’s own closet, you ran your fingers over the variety of shirts and robes the guy had. In the very back, there was a band shirt, obviously too small for Stu; he grew out of it by the time he was sixteen. You held it out, studying it, before shrugging and taking it off the hanger. Your shirt flew over your head and smacked Stu in the face, but the air soothed the sweat that was gathering under your double sport bras, at least for a moment. Then, the newer shirt covered everything back up, and the dark material banned anyone from clocking the extra layers underneath.

“Why don’t we go out for ice cream?” you suggested.

Stu pumped his fist, even though your shirt was still clinging to his body. Billy shook his head, a little smile playing on his lips when Stu ran out the door, presumably to get his car keys. You, on the other hand, hesitated when you saw a shadow underneath the shirt, where your chest lay. The only other boy left in the room must have caught on, because you felt a passing hand on your shoulder and a whisper in your ear.

“You look fine, it’s normal.”

He met your gaze. However, someone was getting impatient, as a muffled shout rang through the closed window, “Coming? I’m totally getting pistachio this time, and you gotta be here to see me try it!”

-

[imagine-otome-games]

Missing [GI Diluc/???] [P.1?]

Pairing: Diluc x Fem!Reader (Tried to keep it neutral but just in case) (Seemingly one sided)

Warnings: Cursing, angst, implied smut but no majorly graphic stuff, maybe I’ll do a continuation from a different point of view?? Ooop. This is my first genshin fic, I hope I did alright. 

Did you find him-

A/N: I’m aware Genshin isn’t an otome game but uhm.. idiot brain.

“ Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ғᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ Bᴜᴛ I ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.”

Under the cover of heavy rain and roaring thunder, you stare at the place you could no longer call home. A place you should have never allowed to become your home when you knew how you felt for someone in it.

Some things should not be mixed- some things just aren’t meant to be. His silence spoke volumes and you could no longer withstand the blatant rejection and regret. At least that’s how it felt to you and with no one to correct you-

Another flash of lighting, one much too close for your liking, sends you back to that night. The memories are so vivid despite how hazy your mind had been that night.

He gripped you as if you were his last lifeline, as if he were absolutely starved of you. You never knew this man could be so greedy- so lustful and almost demanding were it not for some of the gentleman in him still having some control. Enough control to go from gripping you so tight you knew there might be bruises, to cradling you so softly. Holding you as if you were the world’s most precious jewel. Caresses so soft and warming it was dizzying.

His lips stole your breath and sense of self. They took what little bit of rationality you might have had left. They whispered soft sweet nothings to you with breaths so gentle it sent shivers down your spine. His lips stole parts of you, you weren’t aware had existed.

Your name on his tongue sounded damn near ethereal. Might this be what it is like to be loved? Or was this lust in beautiful disguise?

He had you as if he’d had you thousands of times before and may never have again.

He brought you to utter completion over and over and over again. It seemed never ending- it felt like the confession you’d been waiting with bated breath for. It was as if you were being blessed.

Perhaps you weren’t his first, but maybe you could be his last. His forevermore.

The rain that night was violent. It demanded to be heard but you had ignored it. There were better sounds to be heard, ones you kept tightly locked up within the safety of your mind. No matter what could or would be said, they were yours. They were meant for you and no one could take them.

“Diluc...?”, you had called that morning, but you gained no response. He was not there. He wasn’t holding you like you remembered when you drifted off into sleep. 

The other side of the bed was cold to the touch. If you didn’t know better, you’d have assumed that your hazy memories were nothing but a lovely dream. Yet you did know better.

You weren’t the type to sleep so.. bare. Dreams don’t leave marks either, or a bittersweet aftertaste.

Maybe it would be better if it had been a dream.

“ Mᴀʏʙᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴅᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴜᴘ.. Aɴᴅ, ʙᴀʀᴇʟʏ ᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴏᴜs, ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ sᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ..”  

The days that soon followed suit had quickly turned to months. Nothing was said of that night. He wouldn’t look at you. He didn’t even speak to you and every time you tried he would just.. find an excuse to leave. It was odd to you and jarring, to put it nicely.

Diluc did not seem like the type for a one-night stand, let alone to essentially have one and not let the other person know it was just that. He was blunt and to the point. He didn’t come across as secretive but perhaps he was trying to let you down easy. In which case he failed. Miserably.

A simple ‘we shouldn’t have done that’ would have sufficed.

Instead you received silence and avoidance. In your mind, that translated to ‘I regret what I’ve done’ and much more. So you made your plans to go. Secretly hoping he’d come and talk to you while doing so. You were hoping he’d find out and stop you.

‘How foolish’, you thought to yourself as you trudged further out into the pouring rain.

Diluc did nothing of the sort. Though you left without a proper word, he still let you go in a sense.

This was the most anti-climactic break up you’ve ever had, if you could call it that. Yet it still hurt the most. Somehow.

You had to fight the urge to turn back and force him to speak to you. What would that do though? What if what he had to say was worse then the silence you had been facing?

Throughout the entire journey to Liyue this was all you could think of. Multiple scenarios of what he might say, each one drifting into the one you wished would be true. Wishes don’t work like that unfortunately...

“To whomever this may concern,

I have decided to leave. I apologize for overstaying my welcome. Thank you very much for having me, but I just can’t stay. I need to have my own place and my own things.

I’m sorry.

_____.”

You wondered if Diluc ever found the letter you left on your bed. Or maybe one of the maids found it first. Would they give it to him? Would he have told them to throw it out? Even after a few months in Liyue you still wondered how he was doing. Did he think of you in passing? Did anyone in Mondstat even miss you? Had anyone noticed if you left? Well of course some of them did. There was a bard you used to see daily- you missed his infectious laughter. A certain captain enjoyed teasing you and.. well, you missed a Tavern owner..

Liyue was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The way the sea breeze felt so cool at night- the hustle and bustle of the people and passing boats, there was always something to see and do. Commissions were easy to come by and the pay was fair. You found yourself a nice little place to call home within this city. You had lovely neighbors and a great view. Liyue was a nice place to live.

Still, you missed the nostalgic breeze of Mondstat. The cozy homes and well-knit community of its people. Not to say Liyue wasn’t tight knit but... it was just different. There were some things Mondstat had that Liyue did not. People you couldn’t find here- people you wished would just happen to visit by chance. You wanted to see them again.

You were homesick for a place that wasn’t really your home for long.  Homesick even as you enjoyed the warm sea breeze as you sat at the edge of the dock. The sun was setting, gifting you beautiful orange and pink hues to stare at. Your commissions were done for the day and you simply felt.. lonely.

A strong gust of wind blew past you, a nostalgic scent filling your nose with it making you hug yourself softly. You felt yourself missing everything once more...

“You cold, girlie?”, someone asked as the wind blew again. It was harsher this time, almost as if it were pushing you towards this stranger- or maybe it meant to pull you away? You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that the winds in Liyue weren’t quite as.. mischievous as the winds in Mondstat.

A stranger with orange hair stood before you, a little grin on his lips that went well with his blue eyes. They seemed to pierce through you. It was as if he was searching for something within you. He seemed to find nothing, though. He stood with his arms crossed, leaning forward to get a better look at you. With him so close, you could clearly note the look in his eyes.

He’s up to no good-

“I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere else... could be wrong though. You just seem familiar..”, he says when you remain silent.

For but a fleeting moment, you forget you’re hurting. Whether that is from confusion or... something else, is something that remains a mystery to you.

For now, all you could think of was this handsome stranger, and how something within you found him familiar as well.

“ Isɴ’ᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ? Isɴ’ᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ?”

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

So, I started this on my Wattpad, and if figured I'd just put it on here! Just tell me if you want me to add you to the taglist!

Percy's POV

My name is Percy Jackson.

I am twelve years old. I'm a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York, and my sister, (Y/n), taking online schooling at home.

Am I a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know—it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course, I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that...Well, you get the idea.

On this trip, I was determined to be good.

All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwiches that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumble.

Grover tries to calm me down. "I'm okay. I like peanut butter -" He dodges another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it." I start to get up, but Grover pulls me back to my seat.

"You're already on probation," he reminds me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Mr. Brunner leads the museum tour.

He rides up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blows my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathers us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and starts telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner keeps talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickers something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turn around and say, "Will you shut up?"

It comes out louder than I meant it to.

The whole group laughs. Mr. Brunner stops his story. "Mr. Jackson," he says, "did you have a comment?"

My face is totally red, I think. I answer, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner points to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I look at the carving, and feel a flush of relief, because I actually recognize it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner says, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because..."

"Well..." I rack my brain to remember. (Y/n) would have known the answer. She was nuts for this kind of stuff. "Kronos was the king god, and —"

"God?" Mr. Brunner asks.

"Titan," I correct myself. "And...he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

"Eeew!" says one of the girls behind me.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continue, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbles to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner says, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover mutters.

"Shut up," Nancy hisses, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

I think about his question, and shrug. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner looks disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifts off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew that was coming.

I tell Grover to keep going; then I turn toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?" Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go—intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. "You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner tells me.

"About the Titans?"

'"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he says, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, swordpoint against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C– in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

I mumble something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner takes one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He tells me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathers on the front steps of the museum, where we can watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm is brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figure maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else seems to notice, though. Some of the guys are pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit is trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds isn't seeing a thing.

Grover and I sit on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius, not like (Y/n). She seems to know everything."

Grover doesn't say anything for a while. Then, when I think he is going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he asks, "Can I have your apple?"

I don't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

I watch the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and think about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sit. I hadn't seen her or my sister since Christmas. I want so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. Mom and (Y/n) would hug me and be glad to see me, but Mom would be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I couldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

I am about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appears in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumps her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grins at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles are orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I try to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I am so mad my mind went blank. A wave roars in my ears.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy is sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I don't know what they were talking about. All I know is that I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds is sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turns on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"

"I know," I grumble. "A month erasing workbooks." That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds says.

"Wait!" Grover yelps. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stare at him, stunned. I can't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

She glares at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she says.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Grover looks at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," I tell him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barks at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirks. I give her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turn to face Mrs. Dodds, but she isn't there. She is standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast?

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure. I go after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glance back at Grover. He is looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner is absorbed in his novel.

I look back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She is now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I think. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.

But apparently, that wasn't the plan.

I follow her deeper into the museum. When I finally catch up to her, we are back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery is empty.

Mrs. Dodds stands with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She is making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she says.

I do the safe thing. I reply, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugs on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes is beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me. I say, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shakes the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she's talking about.

All I can think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

"Well?" she demands.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hisses.

Then the weirdest thing happens. Her eyes begin to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretch, turning into talons. Her jacket melts into large, leathery wings. She isn't human. She is a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheels his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouts and tosses the pen through the air.

Mrs. Dodds lunges at me.

With a yelp, I dodge and feel talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatch the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hits my hand, it isn;t a pen anymore. It is a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always uses on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds spins towards me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees are jelly. My hands are shaking so bad I almost drop the sword.

She snarl, "Die, honey!" And she flies straight at me.

Absolute terror runs through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swing the sword.

The metal blade hits her shoulder and passes clean through her body as if she was made of water. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds was a sandcastle in a power fan. She explodes into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes are still watching me.

I'm alone.

There is a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Mr. Brunner isn't there. Nobody is there but me.

My hands are still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had I imagined the whole thing?

I walk back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover is sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit is still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she sees me, she says, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I answer, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blink. We don't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I ask Nancy what she is talking about.

She just rolls her eyes and turns away.

I ask Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

"Who?" he asks, but he pauses first and he wouldn't look at me, so I figure he was messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I tell him. "This is serious."

Thunder booms overhead.

I see Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book as if he'd never moved.

I go over to him.

He looks up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I had Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I ask, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stares blankly at me, "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowns and sits forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

Word Count: 3159 words

So yeah, this is the first chapter of this book.

Not much (Y/n) yet, but we'll get there.

Love y'all!              Kaitlynn ❤️😍

[nomsugayoongi]

Off My Face.

Pairing: Jungkook X OC female (nameless)

Tags: fluff, slight angst, eventual smutty smut, softJK.

Disclaimer: So, I literally created a Tumblr to post this mess. There are already a bunch more parts written which I can post if wanted. Haven't written anything in ages so be nice and forgive my overwhelming JK softness. :p

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Who's that?" She asked, leaning against the wall next to Namjoon. He raised an eyebrow as he scanned the room, clearly confused. "Who?" He replied. "The purple haired dude that just walked in. Over there by the door. Black jacket." She muttered, squinting through the darkness. Namjoon chuckled and looked at her like she was crazy. "What do you mean? It's Jungkook." He said.

She gasped and squinted even harder. "Eh??" She squeaked. "That's not Jungkook. Look at the hair. It's...long, and there's way more tattoos there than Jungkook has and..." Her rebuttal died mid sentence as Mystery Purple Hair moved out of the shadows of the doorway and she saw him clearly. It was indeed Jungkook but he looked...different. She'd only been gone a couple of months but apparently that was all it took for Jungkook to transform himself. He looked...older. He appeared to have shed his "puppy" look and what was stood across the room from her was nothing but man. Hot man. Jungkook scanned the room, stopping to talk briefly to Jin before he caught sight of her. His face broke into its token bunny smile and he said something to Jin who nodded before he made his way across the room. "You're back!" He grinned. She gulped quickly, paying absolutely no attention to the nose dive her stomach was currently doing into her shoes as he approached her. "I'm back" she confirmed, returning his smile. He strode straight over, scooping her up into a bear hug. "How was England? Did you miss us? Are you happy to be back?" Jungkook asked, setting her back on the floor and pulling back. She nodded. "Massively. England was...England. Cold, wet, grey, joyless. But nevermind that, what happened to you? Someone leave you alone with a Sharpie?" She teased, pulling his right arm out by then wrist and turning it over to indicate his new ink. He chuckled. "I like them" he shrugged. She glanced up, catching his big brown eyes then gasped again. A silver bar now pierced his eyebrow. "And you've poked holes in your face. Was nobody watching the maknae while I was away?" She teased. Jungkook rolled his eyes and grinned. "Welcome home" he said, pulling her into another hug. She spent the evening catching up with her boys. Laughing riotously, eating great food, regluing herself to Suga's side and wondering why she ever felt the need to go back to England. If anything, the trip back to her country of origin had done nothing more than cement the fact that there was nothing there for her anymore. Her life was here. Her family was here. Her family was the people all gathered in this house. She felt utterly content and beyond happy to be back. However, there was a niggling little something that was putting a crimp on her perfect homecoming. She could not, for the life of her, pry her mind off Jungkook. And as the evening drew to a close and one by one, the guys started retreating to their rooms, the noise died down and her thoughts got louder. What had happened to him? What had happened to her that she couldn't focus on anything but him. He was just Jungkook. She'd known him years. He was one of her family. He meant the same to her as the others. But her mind was screaming and his name was the only thing it was saying. It was approaching 3am. Suga had passed out hours ago and was fast asleep sprawled along one side.of the corner sofa next to her. The room was in total darkness except for the flicker of light from the TV screen. Namjoon was half asleep on her other side. Hobi, Jin, and Jimin had gone to bed already. V was sat at a table opposite tucking into some Ramen with Jungkook. Both engrossed in their conversation and their noodles, she allowed herself to study him in the flickering light. His hair was considerably longer than when she last saw him and now coloured a deep purple, Contrasting strongly against his flawless skin and framing his face perfectly, then resting just above his shoulders. Her urge to run her fingers though it was making her hands restless and she fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa. She swallowed hard, her eyes skipping over his features. Pretty brown eyes, newly pierced eyebrow which really suited him, cute nose, sensual, slightly pouty lips that broke into the most disarming smile, strong jawline, slender neck. She tried to swallow past her increasingly dry mouth as she became painfully aware of her heartbeat, thudding more and more erratically the longer she looked at him. She reprimanded herself silently, arguing in

her mind that this was ridiculous. He was Jungkook. It didn't matter that her stomach rolled uncomfortably every time he looked at her. It didn't matter that she wanted to trace every line of the dark ink that snaked his arm with her fingertips. It didn't matter that all she could think about was running her nose slowly along his jawline, inhaling the scent of his skin as she clenched his soft, long hair in her fingers. It didn't matter that there was nothing she wanted more than to disappear in him. Her nose brushing his, close enough to feel his warm breath between them, his lips parted, hers skimming gently along his, hot, heavy breath, the pressure of his soft lips yielding to hers, the taste of his tongue. His hands, strong, firm, sliding slowly down her back, hitching up her shirt to touch skin as he pulled her closer. Her eyes fluttered, her breath caught in her throat, stomach churning. What the hell? It was Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. This couldn't be happening. She snapped back into herself so suddenly she wondered if she'd actually fallen asleep. Her heart was racing. Tae and Jungkook were looking at her when her eyes finally focused on a solid object. "Bad dream?" Tae asked with an amused smile. "Did I fall asleep?" She muttered, genuinely confused. She kept her gaze locked firmly on Tae. She could see Jungkook out of the corner of her eye but was terrified that whatever had just happened to her was written all over her face. "Well you just jumped out of your skin so I figured you had." He replied. Her face was burning. She could practically still feel Jungkook, smell him, taste him. She needed to get out of here. She jumped up, causing Suga whose head had been resting against her knee to flop unceremoniously back onto the sofa, waking him with a start. "HUH? He yelped. "Erm....sorry Shugs" she muttered, ruffling her hair and trying to get her bearings while still carefully avoiding looking at Jungkook at all. "I need to go...pass out" she grumbled, heading straight for the stairs without looking back. She knew that exit was highly suspicious but once into the safety of her room, she didn't care. She leaned against the door, bracing it with her body as though she expected someone to try kick it in. The air was cool and refreshing thanks to the open window and she breathed steadily, trying to return her thumping heart to a regular rhythm. "Oh this is not good!" She whispered. --------------------------------------------------------------------- The following morning came far too quickly after a restless night. She just couldn't settle. Her stomach was in knots. What the hell had happened last night? What was that half awake fantasy business and why was it replaying in her mind like an iMax movie with full surround sound and smell-o-vision. She dreaded leaving the confines of her room for fear of running into him. Just the thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. "This is stupid!" She grumbled to herself, throwing her legs off the bed defiantly. "I will not be a prisoner in this god damn room for nothing. Last night was...a one off. Everything is fine. I will go downstairs, I will see Jungkook and he will just be Jungkook. No weird romance movie slideshow, no flutterings, thoughts or desires of any kind. Just...normal" Even she didn't really believe her whispered self pep talk but she feigned conviction anyway. She slid out of bed, pulled on ripped jeans and a hoodie and approached her bedroom door. With a deep breath, she reached for the handle and practically threw herself out of her room. Her determination was not only building by the second but she was also flooded with a sense of defiance. She jogged down the stairs, ready for the day ahead. Looking forward to hanging out with the boys and having a lazy day. She could hear the faint murmer of chatter as she approached the kitchen. Hobi was up for sure and maybe Namjoon. She strode into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Morning guys!" She was greeted with a chorus of responses and scanned the room. Hobi making coffee. Namjoon leaning on the

counter. Suga slumped at the kitchen table. Jimin and Tae chatting as they poured orange juice. No Jungkook. She ignored the wave of relief and made a beeline for Suga, ruffling his hair as he grumbled sleepily against the table top. "Morning Shugs" she grinned. Namjoon was looking at her quizically. "You seem...better today" he mused. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him as she squeezed passed Hobi for the coffee pot. "Better?" He nodded with a look of amusement. "You were...weird yesterday. Not yourself. You seemed...distracted." he said. She shrugged and shook her head. "Jetlag probably. I felt kind of out of it to be honest. Just needed to be home and sleep" she replied, nonchalantly. Namjoon wasn't buying it at all and she could tell by the look on his face but he nodded as though he accepted her reasoning. She stayed in the kitchen with the guys, filling them in on her trip back to England and what had happened during the 3 months away. She got so caught up in it that she didn't think about Jungkook at all. That was, until he came down. She was halfway through her bowl of cereal when he padded into the kitchen. Barefoot in black shorts and an oversized white t shirt showing off his tattoos. His long hair deliciously tousled. He was still sleepy eyed but he looked warm and...inviting. She dropped her spoon, clattering loudly against the table making everyone turn and look at her. "Whoops. Butter fingers" she mumbled sheepisly. Everyone carried on with what they were doing apart from Namjoon who was looking from her to Jungkook with a smirk. "Jetlag come back?" He teased. She could feel the heat rising to her face and hoped to every deity under the sun that she wasn't blushing. "Never dropped anything before?" She questioned. He shrugged and chuckled playfully. His gaze was casual but she felt like he could see every thought in her head. She pushed her half eaten cereal bowl away from her and leaned back in her chair. She was trying to look casual but had an inkling that she was failing miserably. Suddenly Jungkook was right behind her, leaning over the back of her chair to reach for her unfinished cereal. His hair tickled the side of her face and the faint fruity smell she associated with him flooded over her. Her breath caught sharply. Her heart kicking into double time. It lasted literally seconds but it seemed like an age before he straightened up with his stolen breakfast. He flashed her a bunny smile and wandered over to the fridge to grab milk. She realised she'd been holding her breath the entire time and let out a quiet huff. Namjoon's smirk had turned into a full blown grin. Flustered, she stood from the table and exited the kitchen. Maybe she'd find some solace in the lounge. She flopped wearily onto the sofa, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Damn. It didn't make any sense. How in the hell had Jungkook turned from bunny to honey overnight. A few more tattoos, an eyebrow piercing and slightly longer hair didn't change him that dramatically. He was still the exact same Jungkook she'd known for years. But...he wasn't. He was hot. Like...painfully, sinfully, stomach clenchingly hot. Had he always been this hot and she'd just not noticed? She knew he was attractive in the general sense. She worked for BTS. She saw the effect he had on women every day of her life. But... she'd never been one of them. He was just...adorable, sweet, regular Jungkook. Now one trip to England had turned the world on its head and there was nothing regular about him. She groaned with annoyance, closing her eyes. She was going to be objective about this if it killed her. She'd always been close to all the guys. Each one had a different facet to their personality that made them so very dear to her. Yoongi was a part of her. She loved him completely. Namjoon was her confidante. She could talk about anything with him and absolutely trust that he'd never give her anything back but honesty and understanding. Jimin was her sunshine. He could brighten the darkest of days with no effort. Tae was her sweetheart. One of the most

genuine, lovely people she'd ever known. Hobi and Jin made her laugh until she couldn't breathe on days when laughter seemed a million miles away. And Jungkook was a bunny. Sweet, playful, easy going, her gaming buddy. They were all integral to her. But NEVER in a romantic sense. It seemed almost laughable to her to put romance and any one of them in the same place. It just wasn't that thing. Ever. They were family. More than simple, fleeting romance. They were her ride or die. None of the others had changed a bit. She still loved them completely. She'd still die for any one of them. But now Jungkook wasn't so much tiptoeing as stomping in huge obnoxious boots into a whole new territory for her. Him and romance seemed intrinsically linked. They went together like water and ...more water. She couldn't even look at him without her mind throwing up a million different scenarios, none of which were located even remotely near the friend zone. She pictured him as he was when he walked into the kitchen. Objectively, that was just early morning after not a lot of sleep Jungkook. Not like she hadn't seen him like that a thousand times before. But this morning he was different. Sleepy, disheveled, soft and warm, relaxed, comforting and so so sexy. Jungkook and sexy were not two words that went together. Now she couldn't separate the two if her life depended on it. God, he was sexy. Like, lose all thought, toe curling, scream into a pillow sexy. Her mind raced, presenting her with thoughts to only fuel the fire. Him laid in bed, languid and comfortable, snuggling into him, feeling his body heat, legs entwined, burying her face into the back of his neck, smelling his hair as he grumbles happily, rolling towards her with a sleepy smile, his eyes still closed, skimming his fingertips up her arm until they stop on her neck, his thumb slowly stroking along her jaw, his lips meet hers in a lazy kiss, still halfway between sleep and waking, sweet to begin with, gentle, his lips brushing softly as he's pulled from his sleep, then teasing as he realises what's going on, his lips part, his tongue tickling her lips, asking for entry which is happily granted. His hand moves from her neck back down her arm until he finds her hand. Their fingers entwine as he rolls her onto her back and straddles her, lifting her hands to pin them either side of her head. He's more forceful now, tongues brushing together, his kiss deep and heady. A soft moan of contentment rumbles in his throat. He breaks the kiss, her eyes flutter open to see him on top of her, hair falling into his eyes as he scrunches his nose up in a wide smile. "Good morning" he whispers. "Everything ok?" A voice broke her from her daydream and her eyes snapped open. Namjoon was stood in the doorway of the lounge with the same grin he'd been sporting when she'd left the kitchen. "Peachy. Why?" She responded with a tight smile. "You're being weird again. If I didn't know better I'd think you and Jungkook hooked up" he shrugged. "WHAT?" she squeeked. Her attempt at casual fell completely flat. She sounded more like she'd just been stung by a bee. Namjoon laughed heartily. "Something's going on. What it is?" He questioned. She considered brushing it off but this was Namjoon. He could read her like a children's book. She swallowed hard, suddenly needing to say everything in her head out loud to a human person. Maybe that would make her realise how dumb it was and restore her sanity. She sighed heavily and noticing the expression on her face, Namjoons grin faded into a look of concern. "Can we talk?" She muttered. He frowned, nodding. "Of course. What is it?" He asked. She looked around and ran her fingers though her hair. "Not here. Outside?"

[troubatrain]

sober - m. barzal (pt. six)

a/n: so after the hell week we all survived in the good ol’ USA my brain finally decided to let me actually write. tbh i wrote this about four times before i forced myself to just finish it and stop tweaking it.

Five

Mat’s kitchen looked like a tornado had run through it. The usually pristine, absolutely untouched kitchen of the young bachelor was getting more use in the twenty minutes Mat had been awake than it ever had. Truthfully, Mat wasn’t a morning person. Mat slept like a rock, and he thought there was nothing besides the fear of his coach that could get him up earlier than noon, but he was wrong. You had him up before eight, hoping if he could beat you to waking up you wouldn’t have a chance to sneak out on him. He did, opening his eyes to catch you snoring softly beside him. He laid there for a moment, his eyes on you because he almost in disbelief you actually stayed. It was a moment of peace, the complete opposite of the mess you’d both gotten yourselves into. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t debating how he was going to get someone to leave, he was figuring out how he was going to get you to stay.

Mat was an absolute whore, and he didn’t care one bit. Why should he? He was young, he was at the top of his game, and his ego got a little bigger everyday. He was just as guilty as you were when it came to his lack of commitment. Mat had never been able to be a good boyfriend, no matter how hard he tried - so he just stopped trying. His schedule wasn’t made for dating, and he never wanted to put the work in. You were different. Something clicked in Mat when he realized how enraged his body felt hearing DeAngelo talk about you the way he did. He was going to let it go, and in hindsight maybe he should have, but he didn’t want to. That protective feeling took over his body because it was too strong for him to shove back down before it got out.

Mat would have told you he loved you after that game, because he does, but he knew he was playing a dangerous game. The reality of what would happen if this was real scared him, but not nearly as much as he knew it had to scare you. You had something to lose, a life that Mat just wouldn’t be apart of. Mat wasn’t in a position to ask you to give that up, especially for someone who you weren’t even dating. Mat knew if he moved too quickly you’d get spooked and run away without giving Mat a second thought. He’d disappear from your memory like everyone before him.

Mat’s thoughts were broken by the sound of your feet padding into his kitchen, your arms wrapping around his waist while you pressed a kiss to his back, “Hi pretty girl.”

This was uncharted territory, the morning after. You’d always been an expert, leaving yourself enough time to sneak out and leave before anyone would notice you were gone. That kept your heart safe, free from the feelings that were present in this very moment. You couldn’t have left last night, slipping out of Mat’s bed and into a cab in the middle of the night, but something stopped you, “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“I thought I’d try to make you breakfast,” Mat admits, a smile on his face while he turned off the stove, eggs forgotten to look at you, “I’ll get better at it, I promise, breakfast can be my thing.”

“Your thing?” You muse, letting Mat gently push you onto the island, standing between your legs.

“Yeah, when we fall in love or whatever, I’ll make breakfast,” Mat chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“You’ve lost your damn mind Barz,” You sigh, leaning your head on Mat’s shoulder while you savored the last few moments of peace you were feeling. You were going to have leave his place, off to a four game road trip where Mat was free to fuck whoever he wanted.

Mat’s finger was gently gliding over your face, “If I’m crazy it’s because you made me crazy.”

“You were insane before I met you,” You defend not daring to open your eyes and meet Mat’s gaze, “And now you’re just annoying.”

“I don’t remember being annoying when you were begging me to fuck you last night,” Mat counters back, hands moving to your bare thighs, the warmth from his hands was a stark contrast from the cool counter, “If I’m correct it sounded something like Mat please.”

“Don’t push your luck Mat,” You threaten, his impersonation of you from the night before stopping almost immediately.

“Would I push it if I asked you to stay until my flight later?” Mat asks, eyes full of hope while he tries to hang onto the moment just a little bit longer.

“If you never talk about it again,” You nod, deciding that the damage was already done. You were so far gone a few more hours couldn’t hurt you anymore.

“We can talk about how fucking good you look in orange and blue though,” Mat teases, a grin on his face. You furrow your eyebrows, looking down and realizing just what shirt he had given you the night before. A bright white number thirteen in the corner, with an Islanders logo present on the front.

“Mat if you don’t take this off of me right this second.”

“You never have to ask me twice to take off your shirt babe.”

***

You leaned your head against the window of the private jet that definitely cost more for one flight than your entire salary, taking a deep breath and a break from the laundry list of emails you were due to answer. You were flying to St. Louis for the All Star Game, your plans of a week long vacation somewhere warm with some of the team and their significant others thrown out the door the second Chris stepped in for Panarin last minute. Not even two minutes later, Charlotte strutted over to your desk to tell you that without a need for someone to translate for Artemi, you were the new kid and that meant you had to suffer through the weekend while everyone else took their vacations. 

“At least pretend to be excited,” Chris mutters next to you, taking a break from his own reading and elbowing you in the side.

“It’s hard to be excited when everyone’s on a beach and we’re flying to Missouri in January,” You snark back, pulling your glasses off your face and rubbing your eyes.

“You either need to start sleeping or stop hanging out with that secret boyfriend of yours,” Chris jokes, but it struck a nerve with you.

Mat wasn’t your boyfriend. Mat. Wasn’t. Your. Boyfriend. He didn’t get to have all of you, because he didn’t deserve it - no man does. Nothing about the very small amount of vulnerability that he got to see after that game meant anything. You left that morning and he went on a four game road trip and the world spun on. You could stop whenever you wanted to, move on with some other dumb boy who didn’t care more about you in clothes than without. But did you want to? That was a debate you’d been having with yourself for days.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You grumble, gritting through your teeth. Technically, it wasn’t a total lie.

“So you are seeing someone!” Chris points out, as if your deliberate words were going to make it past him. Chris held most of the intelligence on the entire Rangers roster, and there was nothing that he didn’t pick up, “So, What's the deal? He doesn’t want anyone to know about you or you don’t want anyone to know about him.”

“It’s mutual,” You hum, sipping the coffee that had gone cold.

“Are you a sugar baby?” Chris questions, a cautious tone to his voice, “Not that I think there’s anything wrong with it or anything-”

“No I haven’t found a sugar daddy,” You roll your eyes, waiving Chris and sparing him the lecture that there’s nothing wrong with the idea at all, “We’re just in a limbo.”

“For what it’s worth,” Chris says, taking a deep breath before he finished his thought, “You seem happy, you haven’t snapped on Tony in almost a week.”

“Thanks Chris,” You laugh softly, popping a headphone back into your ear so you could finish up some work.

***

Mat was in absolute disbelief the moment he saw you step into the hotel lobby. You weren’t supposed to be in St. Louis, you were supposed to be on some island in a bikini making him wish he wasn’t good enough to be selected for the All Star game at all. Mat scratched his head for an answer as to why you didn’t mention the change of plans, but then the thing that he spent his entire roadie before he left for St. Louis entered his brain at full speed.

You’re not her boyfriend.

Mat owed you nothing, and you didn’t have to tell him anything you didn’t want to. Mat honestly knew about four things about you and all of them related to your job. He was dying to know everything, even the stuff that didn’t matter that much. Hell, Mat would’ve killed to see the inside of your apartment at this point. He just needed one thing, one thing that he could hold onto that you showed him that no one else got to see. He was sure he’d find it, especially after he finally got you to stay at his place, but now he was starting to think maybe he’d never crack you.

You were going to just avoid Mat like the plague. The hotel was swamped with players, their families, and any staff that had tagged along for the weekend. The city was still buzzing from last season’s Stanley Cup win and there was not a chance Mat wasn’t going to be busy all weekend, because Mat Barzal was an amazing hockey player. You hated to be reminded of it, because if you could have Mat feed you stupid compliments and never remind you of his job you’d be happy forever.

hotel sex is on the table

and you look fucking hot today

You roll your eyes, checking your phone while you were standing in line to check in. You look around the room, trying not to draw any attention to Mat who was giving you a shit eating grin from across the lobby. He looked good, a white button up tucked into suit pants that were doing his ass justice. You look at Chris, who was too engrossed in his own phone to even look back at you.

pretend like i don’t exist right now and we’ll talk

wanna play a game?

that didn’t go well for you last time Barzy

if i beat your buddy kreids tomorrow night you give me one night

you won’t

is that a yes?

fine

You turn around, giving Mat one last death stare to remind him you weren’t kidding on your plea to pretend you didn’t exist. Your job was important to you because you weren’t Mat. You weren’t going to get paid millions of dollars to play and then retire with a pretty penny in your pocket. You worked, and the stress of losing your job would definitely break you. Charlotte instilled fear in you like no other boss you ever had could, and if you got caught messing around with someone who played for another team while you were working she’d probably just fire you on the spot. Not to mention the heartbroken faces of your chosen family. Mat somehow existed in both a different and the same world as you. He understood your work life because it was so close to his, but he had his own work family and you had yours. No matter what, there would always be some sort of weird divide caused by that stupid rivalry. For now, it was just going to have to be something you’d worry about later.

***

You turned in the mirror of your hotel room, the lacy black lingerie set fit your body like a glove, and you were impressed with Mat’s taste given all he ever wore was sweatpants. You look in the corner of the room, the last piece of his little gift sitting in the box. Mat dropped it off earlier, a note on top telling you that when he inevitably smokes Chris in the faster skater competition he had something in mind. You weren’t surprised by his confidence, but you were surprised by the gift itself. Folded neatly in the box wasn’t just the lingerie, a bright blue and orange jersey was right underneath it, a shiny white number thirteen stitched into the back. You knew you didn’t have to wear it, because Mat wasn’t going to force you to do anything, but you were wet at just the thought of how animalistic Mat would probably get. You tossed on the jersey, throwing an even bigger sweatshirt and sweats over it before you snuck up to Mat’s floor- hoping Chris wouldn’t catch you leaving from the room across the hall.

You pull out the room key Mat gave you, sneaking into the door and locking it shut behind you. You slipped off your sweats, leaving you in nothing but the jersey and your panties.

“Fuck,” Mat dropped his phone from his hand the second you came into his view, “I didn’t think you’d wear it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You muse, your confidence boosting while you strutted over to Mat. He had that effect on you, the ability to always make you feel like the sexiest woman in the world - even if you didn’t feel like were, “But then you beat McDavid.”

Mat pulled you between his legs while he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands toying with the jersey while he let the fabric slip through his fingers, “You look so fucking good in my jersey baby.”

“I’m proud of you Mat,” You purr into his ear, playing into Mat’s ego just a little bit. You were proud of him, and for the first time you wanted him to know. You pressed a kiss against his jaw, feeling his own breath hitch in his throat, “Can I show you?”

“Keep that jersey on and you can do whatever you want to me,” Mat admits, slipping his hand under the jersey and tapping your ass lightly.

“I’ll keep it on,” You giggle, pushing Mat on his back and getting to work. Your lips kissed down his chest with every button of his dress shirt you got undone, tossing it in the corner to be forgotten about until later. You unhooked his belt, leaving open mouth kisses just above his pants. You slid off his dress pants slowly, taking his boxers with them to let his cock spring free. Mat groaned at the sight, gathering your hair to pull it back for you.

“Wait,” Mat stops you, holding your hair back to stop you from putting your mouth on him. His finger traced your cheek, a look on his face you couldn’t quite read, “I just want to remember this, you look so beautiful right now.”

You could feel the heat rush your cheeks, Mat had called you to dozens of things but never once did the word beautiful ever slip through his lips, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to blow you.”

“No, baby, I mean it- fuck,” Mat groans, this thoughts halted by your mouth on his cock. His hips snapped up, hitting the back of your throat, “You’re so fucking good princess.”

You moan, hollowing your cheeks and gripping Mat’s thighs a little tighter, giving him the show you so desperately wanted. You head bobbed in a perfect rhythm, taking as much of Mat as your body could handle. Mat pushes your head back, taking a look at the line of spit that was still connected to his dick, your eyes were glassy and your throat was sore but Mat would keep you like that forever if he could, “Let me finish.”

“I’m in charge tonight,” Mat reminds you, the tone in his voice sent a chill up your spine. You knew Mat was rough, and a little demanding but he never crossed that line with you, “On your knees.”

“Like this?” You tease, sitting up on your knees to rile him up just a little bit more.

“More like this princess,” Mat stands behind you, gently pushing you down so your ass was in the air. He was quiet, bunching up his jersey so he could get a full view of the lingerie he went out and bought just for you, “Be good or I won’t let you cum pretty girl.”

Mat’s threat with a light smack to your ass, a moan escaping your lips. He slipped the black lace panties to the side, gliding one of his fingers against your folds while he pressed a kiss to your skin, “So wet for me already.”

“Only for you Mat,” The words tumbled out of your mouth, your eyes widening at your own confession.

Mat was thankful he was behind you, because if you saw the way his gaze changed from your words he’d never live it down. You looked so perfect, spread just for him. His jersey. His number. And in his own fantasy: his girl. He snapped himself back into reality, sliding into your pussy that was practically dripping in anticipation.

“Faster, fuck Mat please,” You whimpered out, trying to move yourself to get Mat to pick up the pace. He chuckled darkly, hips snapping back and forth until the only sound in the room was the string of curses leaving your mouth, “I’m close-”

Mat flipped you over before you could finish, his hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him, “Tell me this pussy is mine.”

“Fuck I’m yours Mat,” You breath out, locking your eyes with his while it felt like time froze around you, “I’m yours.”

“Look at me when you cum baby,” Mat urges, his hand still gripping your chin. He picked up his place, making use of his other hand around your clit, “C’mon princess just for me.”

Your pussy fluttered around him, Mat letting out a groan while he tried to hold onto this moment for just a bit longer. He looked down at you, catching your breath from your own high. You hand snuck down to his cock, pumping it slowly, “Cum on me.”

Mat nods, letting you work on his dick with your hands while he nibbled at your neck. He was going to mark you up, make you remember who you belonged to because he so desperately wanted it to be him. He spilled onto your pussy, head pressed into your neck while he came down from his own high. You both laid there for a moment, your hand gently stroking Mat’s back while you both took a moment to think about what just happened. Mat was possessive in a way he’d never been before, and you ate it up without a second thought - that had to mean something right?

“I need to get back to my room,” you whisper, afraid to break the comfortable silence.

“I know,” Mat nods, finally picking his head up, “Keep the jersey, you might need it one day.”

“Your stupidity is honestly astounding,” You joke, brushing his hair out of his face while Mat’s face turned into a pout.

“Can I take you on a date?” Mat breathes out, hoping he wasn’t reading this the wrong way, “No games, no funny business, let me take you out.”

Say no. Say no and never call him again.

“One date,” You agree against your better judgement, pushing Mat away and looking around the room to find your sweats that you snuck into his room in, “Better make it a good one.”

Mat smiles, teeth on full display while he watched you slide your pants back on, “I’m the best at everything Y/N don’t forget that.”

“Goodnight Barz,” You tease, giving him one more look before you left his room.

The elevator ride down was quiet, most of the hotel’s occupants already asleep or still out partying the weekend away. For your sake, you hoped Chris would be fast asleep like the grandpa he was. You rushed down the hallway, Mat’s jersey still hanging loosely off your frame while you looked in your hand for your room key. Your search was stopped by a throat clearing behind you. You jump, turning around to see Chris’s eyes boring into you.

“You’ve got some explaining to do.”

[sweetsakusa]

Coming Home At Twilight

A lil Nanami brain rot (more like a rant)

Anime: Jujutsu Kaisen

Genre: fluff, domesticity, drabble, slice of life

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k words

-

“I’m home,” you call to no one in particular. You are met with the eerie silence of your home, the air conditioner humming softly in the background as a natural ambient sound to fall asleep. You slip on a pair of house slippers, the soft padding breaking the serenity of the home. 

You walk into the living room and the sight of Kento sleeping soundly on the leather couch with a book open on his chest and his glasses still resting on his nose appears before you. It is a wonderful sight to see him so relaxed and casual; the light just barely peeking through the twilight, ending the night puts you into tranquility. Smiling, you set down your work bag and tiptoe closer. 

His shirt still tucked, but ruffled from turning in his sleep, his tie thrown half-hazardly on the one of the cushions and he still looked as handsome as ever. Perfectly sculpted cheekbones, his defined jaw, the slope of his nose, his normally flawlessly styled hair now hanging in small wisps on his forehead and seeing all of it, there was no doubt in your mind that he was made by the gods themselves. 

His eyebrows were no longer pinched together and his lips were relaxed, not the typical thin line of subtle annoyance that could quickly curl into irritability. In other words, he was the epitome of effortlessly good-looking. 

You gently pry off his glasses, placing them on the coffee table. He doesn’t flinch nor open his eyes. He is typically a light sleeper, constantly hyper aware in his sleep. He gives no sign of waking up.

He must’ve had a long day at work last night.

You glance at the clock on the coffee table, a frown growing. It is still 4:56 in the morning. A part of you wished to not wake him up, give him some well deserved rest, but concern rose in your chest at the thought he might be overworking himself. You set your hand on his, tracing the veins that protruded from his knuckles. 

You lean over and place your lips on his forehead, brushing away the hair that fell on his face. When your eyes fall onto his face again, you are met with pools of a gentle blue sea that is his eyes. You kiss his forehead again and his eyes flutter closed.

“Love, you should be sleeping on the bed instead of the couch,” you mutter against his hairline. 

He sighs exhaustedly, running a tired hand through his hair before meeting your gaze, bored orphic eyes sucking the light out of the room. You just knew that he was sleeping on the couch to wait for you to come home as much as he would hate to admit it. You simply knew him too well.

You continue to stroke his cheek as if holding the finest china, your thumb caressing the skin just underneath his eye bags that were always there, making him look much more older and mature for his age. “How long have you been laying here?”

His eyes soften just a little from your touch and he shuffles to make himself more comfortable, resting his head against his forearm. “I was reading a book and then I fell asleep.” Then it must have been a couple hours, you concluded.

You knit your eyebrows together. “You haven’t been overworking yourself, have you?” 

He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t,” he says with nonchalant honesty. Nanami knows how you complain when he pushes himself too much, but his job was still demanding. His work ethic is certainly admirable. 

Your hand instinctively moves to his chest, just above his stomach, patting it soothingly. “You should get some more rest. I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”

“No. Stay here.”

Your eyebrows knit together, causing a wrinkle on your nose and forehead. “No?” His request was strange to say the least. He never did anything out of the necessary and frankly, it was like that for most of your relationship. Sure, there were some moments of shared affection, but even then, Nanami was a man who liked to keep to himself. 

Swinging his legs over the edge and pulling you up, he wraps his arms around your waist and begins to sway back and forth as if to balter to a silent tune, his forehead leaning against yours and his breath tickling your nose.

Your body stiffens in surprise. He’s not normally like this.

You pull away just enough to scan his face for anything strange. He doesn’t look any different. You place the back of your hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature.

Kento’s eyebrows furrow in slight irritation and the peaceful look of bliss flickers away at the cool touch of your hand. “What are you doing?”

You frown. “Are you sick, Kento? It’s not typical of you to act like this.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Oh,” is your only response as you give up the energy to explain his strange behavior. Hesitantly, you relax into his embrace and he pulls you flush against his body as your arms drape over his shoulders. You exhale the subtle cologne of wood and maple on his shoulder, releasing the mountain of stress that had accumulated on your shoulders throughout the last few weeks.

“You looked a little stressed,” he says eventually, answering your question from earlier. “Maybe this might alleviate it,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, sending electricity down to your toes. His reassuring words and the way his tongue adds stress to his “t’s” warms the base of your stomach and causes butterflies to erupt.

You sigh heavily with content and he hums in response. It did help lessen the tempestuous strain in your mind. Work was a pain and becoming a slight burden, but Kento had no problem soothing it all away with soft kisses and passionate embraces. 

You felt like your soul were floating of pure bliss, ascending away from Earth and into the heavens all while Kento kept you grounded and held on, refusing to let go as if you were his lifeline and truth was, you probably were his lifeline and he was yours. 

Your hand trails up to his hair, combing through his locks that tickled your palms. He releases a small sigh, melting in your touch and squeezes you just a little bit tighter like he was scared an outside force would snatch you away.

It would have been awkward if it wasn’t for the ill-coated affection. And though it was quiet, there weren't any words needed to be exchanged as if a turn of phrase would disrupt the comfortable silence the two of you created. 

You slowly blink away the sleep, but to no avail, you squint at the sun peeking through the horizon, it’s rays beam into the penthouse suite apartment. 

“The sky looks beautiful,” you mumble into his shirt, sleep threatening you into oblivion. 

“Mhmmm,” he hums agreeingly into your hair, his hands running along the valley of your spine, up and down before settling on your lower back. He cracks his eyes open, also slowly succumbing to exhaustion due to lack of sleep. He peers down to see you in all your angelic beauty. The sun highlights the plains of your face, your cheeks illuminating golden in the early morning sun. You looked ethereal. Serendipity must have been on his side when he first met you.

He is aware that the sunrise is beautiful, reds, oranges, pinks, yellows, and blues smeared across the sky as the sun slowly creeps up like every cliché painting, but you are even more divine and luminous than the star itself so he stares at you with an adoration that is only meant for you. 

You crane your head, meeting his soft gaze and breaking his scrutiny. You stare intently at his vivid blue hues, as blue as the sky, the dawn making his eyes gleam. Perhaps that’s why you feel like floating when he is holding you close to him. Maybe that’s why you feel like you’re in heaven when you’re his arms, but also grounded at the same time because he is like heaven on earth.

Wow.

Your eyelids feel heavy as you slowly close them, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips as you raise yourself on your toes towards him. He meets you halfway and closes the space, giving you a few kisses before pulling away, satisfied.

You mumble a quick, “I love you,” against the corner of his lips before pecking his cheek and leaning against his chest once again as he ever so slightly sways back and forth, as if rocking you to sleep.

“Love you too.” He no longer shies away from those words like he used to, weary of the lifelong commitment those words brought. He reaches for your hand, the certain finger containing a gold wedding ring. He places his lips on the cool metal, a wordless reminder of his infinite love, sealed by a simple promise.

“Let’s go to bed,” he mutters against the crown of your head and you let out a soft sigh. His arm still wrapped around your waist, he guides you into your shared bedroom.

You sink into the mattress, groaning at the relief that flooded through your body. Kento crawls next to you, his calloused hands never leaving your waist. 

“Ken,” you say, voice groggy and practically on the verge of passing out. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“I’m taking a day off,” he says simply. “You must be exhausted. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up in time for breakfast.”

You scoff softly into the silk pillowcase. “As if,” and with that you fell asleep to his fingers lingering aimlessly on your clothed stomach. 

Nanami contemplated if it was a good idea to wait for you to come home and wake up in the wee hours of the morning only for him to fall asleep on the couch and you had to pulled him out of sleep. Maybe it didn’t go as planned, but it sure felt nice when the two of you watched the sunrise together before going back to bed. 

He whispers another ‘love you’ into the back of your neck before letting sleep cast its spell. Though he falls into a deep dreamless slumber, he feels light and airy like floating among the clouds. 

Yeah, you definitely made him feel like he had entered heaven and it never gets old.