#no youre probably not missing something its very personal preference.

[hopefullyababe]

see this is where it gets silly. i dont understand the attraction to columbia at all. i can admit when a person is pretty and she is very pretty but i have literally no attraction to her at all. im somehow immune to the coumbia rocky horror sex blast and youre somehow immune to the meat loaf rocky horror sex blast

favorite part of being a lesbian is having baffling taste in men. was watching rocky horror w gf and meat loaf came out of the freezer and i looked at her and said meat loaf is so fucking hot. and she looked at me and said girl im attracted to men and even i dont see it. what are you on.

[mischievousmoony]

hi i saw your request were open, and i really love you’re work and i was wondering if you could do something with james where the reader talks very quickly and quietly and often is told that she needs to speak up. and james always knows what she says and its kinda just fluffy? no worries if you don’t want to write!! have an amazing night/day

- 🪷

is this my first emoji anon? 🤭 thank u love, i had a lot of fun with this request

𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚞𝚙

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: not bully per say but other students are rude, fluff

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Miss. Y/L/N, have you found a group to work with?" Professor McGonagall asks as students around you huddle in groups of four whilst you stand alone at your desk, packing your things.

You mumble a response as you stuff your books into your bag, attempting to flee the scene as fast as possible. It wasn't anything to do with Professor McGonagall, but rather the fact that you always felt a little scrutinized when talking to anyone in a position of authority.

McGonagall squints as she tries to decipher your words. She finds herself having to make a guess.

"If not, I am more than happy to assist in finding–"

"She's with us, Professor!" James jogs over, returning from enlisting members for your group. As you straighten out your leafs of parchment, James starts packing away your ink and quill for you.

"And 'us' entails?" Professor McGonagall questions.

With a casual flick of his thumb over his shoulder, James gestures to a pair of Ravenclaws standing by the door.

"Very well," McGonagall hums in approval before walking off to ensure any other stragglers have found a group before they depart.

James would prefer to have Sirius and Remus as the other half of your group, but McGonagall has permanently banned James and Sirius from working together ever since they turned a simple demonstration into their own personal stand up comedy gig, resulting in some arguably intentional mishaps in their spellwork.

You've just latched your bag closed when James takes it from you and slings it over his shoulder without giving it much thought. He’s always absentmindedly doing you little favors, like it's his second nature.

"So, Cody has nothing better to do on a Friday night, why am I not surprised?" James says teasingly. "He’s insisting we hit the library and get a head start on the project. You free right now?"

"I'm free," you confirm, looking over James' shoulder at your group mates.

You hate group projects for a multitude of reasons. At least with most Ravenclaws— especially the two you're partnered with, Cody and Isla— you don't have to worry about them not carrying their weight.

This makes your main concern having to work with people you don't know that well. All you did know about them is that they're the kind of Ravenclaws that other Ravenclaws say give them a bad rap. They have a raging superiority complex, and you’d be surprised that James is okay to work with them if you didn't know him. That boy thinks he can make a friend out of anyone, save for some rivals he has in Slytherin.

So, you’re mostly surprised that they want to work with the two of you, but that probably has something to do with James being at the top of the class. Otherwise, they wouldn't normally branch out to students outside of their house.

You suddenly feel uneasy, realizing that for this project, you’ll be the student that the others are weary of not pulling their weight. You feel your hands get clammy over the potential judgement running through Cody and Isla's heads as James leads you over to them.

"Are we going or what?" Cody asks rather unmannerly.

James opens the door for everyone, "Lead the way."

You filter out into the hallway. Soon, the four of you fall in step with each other as James throws an arm around your shoulders.

"How long are we planning to spend on this today?" Isla asks.

"Well, if we dedicate the afternoon to it, we could get all of the research out of the way in one go." Cody responds.

James meets your eye with a sideways glance, and an entire conversation is shared through a couple facial expressions.

His lips curl into a knowing half-smile, See? No plans.

Your eyes twitch with amusement before they shift toward the pair. A microscopic scrunch of your nose conveys, I don't want to spend the whole day with these people.

His face contorts, Me neither, and he shakes his head, we can't anyway.

Your head tilts curiously.

"We have plans later," James verbalizes.

"We do?"

“Sirius got his record player repaired.” James smirks, “And I may have some butterbeer and a certain record waiting for us back at my dorm.”

Your eyes widen with excitement, “James, you didn’t!”

“Oh, but I did.” James says proudly.

“Sorry,” Cody interrupts, “you can’t work on the project tonight because you have to go listen to music?” Cody asks, and the rhetoric nature and judgmental tone are lost on you.

You dive into an explanation on how it’s not just any music, but your favorite band’s brand album. And not just that, but the limited edition record complete with bonus tracks not available anywhere else.

The record was wildly out of your budget and although record stores far and wide all received copies, they didn’t receive very many. You had accepted that you would likely never get your hands on a copy, but you hadn’t accounted for James’ readiness to move mountains at your whim.

You excitedly speak about your favorite band and everything you know about the new record, and it’s like you can’t get the words out fast enough. James listens intently, grinning widely and nodding along with your every word, interjecting occasionally with commentary of his own. You're too busy raving to notice the shared look between Cody and Isla.

"Is this supposed to be a private conversation or are we expected to understand you?" Isla sneers as the four of you reach the library doors.

James' grin falters as watches your excitement fade. You mumble out an apology, which James found completely unnecessary.

His tone flattens out from amused to deadpanned as he addresses Cody's earlier question, both to alleviate some attention from you and to deliberately ignore Isla, "We'll stay for an hour, maybe two. But after that, yeah, we're going to go listen to music with our friends."

Ever the gentleman, even when annoyed, he holds the library's door open for everyone. He eyes the back of Isla's head with offense as she passes, but his eyes soften when you walk through next.

The four of you quickly find a table, as not many are occupied to begin with.

James musters up a semblance of professionalism as he forces himself to stop glaring at Isla as she and Cody begin to discuss a plan for the project. Cody takes it upon himself to divide up areas of research without consulting the rest of the table.

"Hold on," James' brows furrow at his audacity, "What if I don't want to be in charge of researching the wand mechanics? And Y/N has an exceptional understanding of magical theory, she should be in charge of the magical formulas."

Cody and Isla's eyes fall on you and this time you don't miss their criticism.

"You have an exceptional understanding of magical theory?" Isla's face contorts into that familiar sneer.

James doesn't try to hide the way he rolls his eyes. He nudges you, "What was it you were saying earlier? The idea you had for the project?"

You gulp before you dive into an explanation. It feels like Cody and Isla were burning holes through you with their stares, so you try to distract yourself by gazing down at your hands as you them wring together.

In the middle of your explanation—

"Couldn't you at least look up so that I might have a chance at reading your lips?" Cody grumbles.

If looks could kill, James Potter would be a wanted man.

"S- sorry," you practically squeak. You do look up, but the glare on Cody's face intimidates you into mumbling even more. Even the most skilled lip reader wouldn't have a clue as to what you are saying.

"Merlin, could you just speak up?" Cody snaps his fingers in your face and your words die in your throat.

James suddenly wishes he had a beater's bat handy.

"Oi! Get your hand outta her face!" He raises his voice to levels that would surely attract Madam Pince's shushing any minute.

Cody retracts his hand but stands by his actions, "We'll hardly get anything done today if she can't even speak clearly. How do you expect me to deal with this?"

"Alright then, new plan," James says through gritted teeth. He stands abruptly, and his chair scrapes loudly across the floor as it shoved back by his sudden ascent. "The two of us will research the wand mechanics and magical formulas on our own, you two can have the rest. I'll let you know where we'll go from there next class."

James' hand finds yours in a grip that is surprisingly gentle considering the way he is currently conducting himself. He tugs on your hand, prompting you to rise from your own seat.

"You're just going to leave?" Isla asks.

At the same time, Cody protests the plan, "There's no way that I'm accepting that."

"Well, Cody, if you wanted to be in charge, then I guess you shouldn't have been such a cun–"

"James!" This time you're loud enough to speak over James' biting words.

"See you in class" are James' parting words to the very stunned Cody as he pulls you away from the scene.

Once in the hall, James can't help himself from raging over Cody's behavior.

"What a slimy git! Who does he think he is?"

You squeeze the hand that James still has wrapped around yours as he tugs you through the halls.

"James," you call gently.

"Don't know why I said yes to working with them. They basically cornered me, I'll have you know! I should've ran the other way when I saw them–"

"James," you try again, more firmly.

"Maybe if we talk to Minnie on Monday we can get our group switched. You don't suppose we can work with Sirius and Remus considering these extenuating circumstances?"

You dig your feet into the floor, "James!" you call out one last time, finally earning his attention.

James spins to face you, his hold on your hand not letting up.

"Yeah?"

"Calm down, would you?" You're voice comes out tinged with laughter.

James' troubles melt away at the sound of your laughter. His eyes search your face for any sign that it's false.

"You're not upset?" he asks, knowing you've been sensitive in the past to people's commentary on the way you talk.

"No, the look on Cody's face when we stormed away was healing enough."

This earned a laugh from James, "It was pretty satisfying."

James gives your hand another tug so that you fall into step with each other again. He only drops his hold on you to sling his arm over your shoulders.

"Dunno why people become such dunces around you." A playful smirk dances on James' lips, "Distracted by that pretty face, maybe, whereas I know how to multitask."

You shake your head at his antics, but your lips can't be stopped from curling into a grin.

"I can't deny the fact that you're the only one who seems to always hear me."

In the past, you've considered the possibility that James can always tell what you're saying because you feel more comfortable around him than anyone else, prompting you to speak more clearly. In actuality, James doesn't even need your words to know what you're thinking. He's known you for a long time, and he's spent every minute of it learning everything there is to know about you. By now, he might know you better than he knows himself.

"I guess I just might be the luckiest guy around, then, that I don't have to miss a second of your charm."

You sigh at his teasing and knock your shoulder into his, completely missing the genuine adoration in his eyes as he studies the way you smile at his words.

He can't wait to see how your smile looks when you find out that record he got you is signed.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[lucrezianoin]

Rating all the romances in Veilguard

For no reason that I watched them (here)/played them all. (I played Taash, Emmrich both paths, Davrin, and all the romances up till the commitment scene)

All the romances (with few exceptions) seem to follow the same pattern of: about three or four flirting moments, a missed kiss scene where you non-commit to the romance, a commitment to the romance scene and a dinner/date. All these scenes are also friendship ones and the romance extends them (with various levels of extension). Then the romance has three unique scenes: a pre-Ghilan'nain chat, the post-Fade sex scene, a final chat before the end and that is it.

I am gonna put some of these scenes in preference order! What I look for in a scene is:

If it is a friendship scene: how much the romance scene adds;

The scene tells me something new about the characters;

How well the scene sets up the tone of the romance (especially starting scenes);

Just how much I liked the scene! the tone, the movements, other added things

Every link is the scene from the same youtube channel I linked before, at the correct timestamp.

EDIT: changed the rating for Neve, she is now my second fav (I am replaying it and realized I missed something from her commitment scene)

TL TR: My favorite romances in order:

Davrin: his romance ties very well with his character development and quest. Weisshaupt and his relationship with death being confronted with losing his home, trying to stay casual and then getting attached against his own will, and then choosing a new path (a road less travelled, as he says) which also ties with the relationship with him and his Dalish clan. It is also the only romance that allows the player to decide what comes after for Rook.

Neve: I felt like her romance had its own sub-plot that I did not feel was 100% reflected in her quests (given she shows attachment to other characters and things), but there is a lot of content and like for Emmrich it all fits well in the tone of Neve's character and quests at least: it really makes you feel like you are in a detective story, romancing that one character who has a tons of protective walls around her heart. The banter and flirting was my favorite, with a lot of small back-and-forth, that I think do the heavy lifting.

Emmrich: this romance is a bit less involved with the main plot, but I thought it felt very cohesive. It is a more classical romance which sees Emmrich surprised to be the subject of Rook's flirting, to then taking them both in a very classic path of dating and breakfasts in bed. It also has a lot more content given it has technically two paths, and fits well with the whimsical sometimes humorous tone of Emmrich but also his relationship with death (fear).

Taash: Their romance is probably the easiest and fastest to get. I think the content is a bit less compared to other romances, but their inability to fully express their attachment (especially in the context of their mom's death) was a nice touch. I wish the story had integrated their personal quest (what happened to their mother) a bit more at the end, given we have a parallel of Taash not being able to save her vs being able to get Rook back.

Harding: I think her romance actually makes her character much more compelling to me. We see her dealing with her powers a bit more, and in the final scene it is all pulled together with this dialogue about how she wished the world could stay simple, but closing your eyes against the change does not mean the change is not happening. Still, I feel like she has the least amount of scenes (but my favorite romance commitment scene) especially if she dies then her romance feels absolutely incomplete. In the case of Davrin, his death makes his previous scenes much more tragic instead.

Bellara: I actually really like Bellara's romance, I just feel like if I try to look at it objectively it seems a bit all over the place. It starts very sweet and awkward, but it mainly relegates Rook in the role of someone who needs to reassure Bellara a lot, especially about not being liked. I am also very annoyed by the two mentions of "Rook makes Bellara calmer". As far as I know Bellara is supposed to have adhd, and as someone who has adhd... no, love does not "cure" you. Or make you feel calmer.

Lucanis: I am so sorry for all the Lucanis fans. I have no idea what happened here. I loved the final scene, but the rest of his romance feels strangely directionless. I admit I did not believe it could be so much short in content compared to the other romances but after playing half of it and watching the rest - it kind does. It has some nice extra banter and comments (ex. a lot of supporting Lucanis in battle), but I am also unsure what this romance is even about. His personal quest is about starting to live again and accepting Spite, but his romance seems a mix of guilt for his failure and deflections. The only thing I can come up with is that the writers were trying to convey a Lucanis who was not ready for a romance but still wanted it nonetheless?

The almost kiss:

Bellara: This one has no almost kiss, but I loved the scene nonetheless. The friendship scene is adorable (I love characters who write stories!), and the romance part is quite extended with Bellara giving us new information about her: she never really has been in a long relationship, about her ex from the Veil Jumper, and we also see her trying to act all suave and smooth and almost falling from the desk, which was adorable and sets up the awkwardness and inexperience of the romance.

Davrin: The almost kiss is interrupted by Assan, which makes perfect sense giving the previous interruptions. It also reinfornces the fact that Davrin is direct, and it tell us that there is a correlation with him chasing his romance/being direct and how close to death Grey Wardens are. It sets up an almost casual/overly-flirting and seducing tone to the romance instead of the more romantic one found in others. The scene also makes the friendship version 100% better and make it much more sense.

Neve: The friendship scene is quite cute, but after seeing the romance one I feel like the whole scene is a setup for the romance. Most of it is in the romance version, with a lot of characters moving through the room (checking the wisp, sitting on the desk, almost kissing). It also tells us a bit about Neve: she is attracted to Rook, but very hesitant to start a relationship, almost scared, and that the theme of the romance is this almost magnetic attraction that she cannot resist to. Hilarious also because of Rook looking at the ceiling in frustration when the kiss doesn't happen.

Taash: I am not a fan of the growls, but the movement, the hilarity of Taash standing up saying "yes so..." and pushing Rook against the mirror - perfect. The friendship scene also tells us something on its own and the two takes a different paths. We also find out that Taash is extremely direct, they are very open about sex, and take initiative very quickly when needed. Plus their sense of smell is very developed and connected with the breathing-fire thing. The interruption is probably my favorite here, with Taash and Rook sharing an amused glance, it builds comraderie!

Harding: The scene sets up Harding's main plot (her new powers) in the romance, which will then continue in the actual commitment scene. The scene overall tells us that Harding sometimes loses control of her lyrium while touching people, and that she is a bit awkward but also not too easily embarassed (like Bellara is). In general it is quite sweet.

Emmrich: I usually love Emmrich scenes and this is probably my list favorite in his romance. The dialogue is beautiful and elegant as always, and we find out that Emmrich romance will follow more traditional and romantic paths. We do not learn much about Emmrich himself, a part from the fact that he is interested in the romance. I also am a bit confused by the show of magic, I suppose it is seduction but what does it mean... it escapes me. I guess, another thing we learn is that Emmrich likes to take the seduction into his hands, which sets the tone for the romance.

Lucanis: the first part of this scene is Spite trying to run away. Then the scene feels like it goes from zero to one hundred very quickly, with Lucanis and Rook almost kissing, then bam, Lucanis needs to clear his head - I know it is Spite but it felt a bit strange. I am unsure what the scene is trying to tell me, we already knew Spite is a problem and often takes over/stops Lucanis from doing things (ex. starting scene by the fireplace).

Romance confirmation/commitment:

Harding: the scene expands a lot on the friendship version, so much that I almost forgot I even played the friendship version of it. We also have the continuation of Harding's touching problem, and not only it is hilarious (Harding backing away and being shocked Rook would still kiss her), but also tells us something about Rook themselves (that they are a bit of a reckless fool). The scene happening in public with all the other npcs being like "wtf", hilarious.

Davrin: The scene adds a little bit from the friendship one, with the most schoolgirl kiss in the game (which is adorable), the return of the "hunting" metaphor, and Davrin looking at Rook when he talks about Assan having "the heart of a halla". It all ties in the fact that the scene is a way to draw a parallel between Davrin and Assan - it works well given it is a romance scene and one of the parallels is about both of them finding a new path and having "the heart of a Halla". There is also a small additional banter when you go back to Eldrin, where Rook can tell Davrin "you have me too now".

Neve: So I love this scene (skipping rocks, thinking about her case), it feels very detective-like in a dark foggy city, chasing leads. EDIT: I previously put this down at n5 but I am replaying Neve romance and realized there is so much more. Not only Neve throws herself at you (for a kiss), plus a fumbled kiss, but you also get a very cute banter about "kissing a girl/kissing neve gallus" while you chase for leads. Overall, while the majority of the scene is the friendship version, the romance version changes it quite a bit.

Taash: the scene was great before the romance one, I loved seeing Taash getting to the realization and decision about using they/them. But it also felt a bit like zero to one hundred, with only a few flirtings before (pretty sure only two? or three?). But the kiss? that was the best kiss in the game for me, with Taash being like "okay bye". It follows the general theme of Taash being a bit uncomfortable to face their own feelings, and very direct.

Emmrich: one of my favorite scenes in the friendship version. To see an older than usual character remembering their parents, talking with them and introducing them their new partner is pretty rare. The rest of the scene was quite classical seduction from Emmrich, he really feels like the character who is doing the courting and the scene in general looks quite beautiful. Beautiful kiss too. The addition from the friendship version is the extra seduction with magic.

Lucanis: Zero points for payeya. The rest of the scene is very sweet, I loved that Lucanis remembers Rook's drink and that a previous choice returns in play, but the scene is so short and it seems to mainly revolve around Lucanis apologizing. It tells us that Lucanis remembers, and that probably his romantic side is more acts of service than words, but it also feels a bit like Rook is romancing themselves and jumping to conclusions because Lucanis is giving very little.

Bellara: the commitment scene was so small, and so Cyrian focused I should probably not even put it here.

Dates/dinners:

Emmrich: This is a full on date that follows the Emmrich's path of "classically romancing Rook". We have the dinner, special Mourn Watcher dialogue about the skeletons raised to cook, a kiss, and you can also exchange questions - you can tell Emmrich you are a virgin too haha - plus, Emmrich expresses worry for Rook and how much work he is taking on, which is always nice to see given sometimes Rook feels excluded in the game. The dialogue also remembers previous choices, with different options if you expressed distaste for necromancy.

Neve (scene 1) (scene 2): She has technically two, one where you can meet with Rana or Elek, and then the initial one where she takes you to eat fried fish, so before the start of the romance. Both scenes? Amazing. I absolutely love them, especially the tour of Dock Town and eating fried fish with her while looking at the sea. They felt perfectly in tone of a noir-detective romance. In the first scene we get Neve's main romance theme (the tables always turn) and feels (banter, back and forth) and in the playing cards scene we return to the back and forth banter that is characteristic of the Neve romance.

Davrin: This was mainly about Davrin being asked to take a break and him worrying about Rook working too much, which is always nice to hear! I was a bit disappointed that so much of the date ended up being about Assan and Rook not being able to do mushrooms without tripping, but the small bits of Davrin being disappointed he could not take Rook's mind off work for an afternoon felt strangely in line with Davrin's more seduction-like romance (which seems to be mainly on the casual side of things) and his attempt to make this work.

Taash: I loved Taash's mother immediately zeroing in on Rook being their partner, but sadly there is not really a romance scene. The scene is very similar to the friendship one, and it doesn't tell us anything more about the romance itself or Taash.

Lucanis: I am confused by this scene. It seems much more about Lucanis and Spite than Lucanis and Rook and Lucanis. The part taht is about Rook and Lucanis is very very short, and mainly a lovingly gazing Lucanis and Rook with not a lot of dialogue.

Bellara and Harding seems to have no date/dinner scene. Harding has a longer post Ghilan'nain scene, and Bellara has a lot of small scenes around here and there.

The fight before the fight

Davrin: similar to Taash but softer. This is also when you find out a lot about Davrin here - mainly how he made sure to never get attached - and more about his relationship with death that turns into him wanting to finally think about a future without death. I thought this scene added a lot to his character, and pulled together his whole plot arc too (the non romance one, so his attachment to Assan, his relationship with death, Weisshaupt and his new home). It also felt realistic and hopeful bre-battle, and it is even more devastating in the light of the Harding vs Davrin death choice.

Neve: the voice acting in this one is just stellar. It is also very detective-feels like a noir old movie with forbbiden romance. It shows how important it is for Neve to keep everything under control. Her voice breaking out at the end - amazing, one of my favorite lines by Neve. This does not fully connect with her arc, like Davrin's did, but it is the breaking of her walls scene.

Emmrich (Lich) (link to my twitter): As much as I love saving Manfred, I prefer this scene with Lich Emmrich and how much you can play a Rook that is absolutely extra in love and refuses to listen to what Emmrich is saying. And it is nice to have a scene where a companion actually suggests for the protagonist to not go into battle. It ties with Emmrich's fear of death, and accepting that people around him will always die now that he is a Lich. I was just a bit sad that he clearly did not fully make peace with that before his transformation, given that was one of the requirements.

Taash: classic angst and tsundere, loved that Taash refuses to admit their feelings to avoid getting hurt. This is similar to Neve and Davrin's scene, but I think it tells us less about Taash than Davrin's, and the scene is much shorter than Neve's. It feels also a bit more in line with Taash's character here given what happened to Taash's mother, but I wonder if you can still get this scene if you do not complete Taash's quests... I suspect you might, which makes the scene in that case a bit out of place in my opinion.

Emmrich (non Lich): Look, I LOVE this scene, and I love seeing Emmrich talk about their age difference, but I thought it felt a bit random placed as a pre-battle fight. I know this is about Emmrich confronting his own mortality again, and this is the main theme, Emmrich realizing he is fully in love and not ready at the idea of leaving Rook alone. I love Rook's answers, but I would have loved to expand on this way before (especially given that one of the option is Emmrich implying that Rook does not know what they want because they are too young "I know what I am getting into" / "at your age?").

Lucanis: I really enjoyed this more than I thought I would, but mainly the first part. Lucanis feeling the responsibility of the strike to protect Rook after he failed once. It ties well into his arc, being responsible of this big job, and Rook tried to show him that they are in this together. Except that then the scene kind of derailed, in my opinion with extra Lucanis' deflection. Maybe I do not fully understand Lucanis' romance and character, but the scene goes from: Lucanis' guilt and fear, "I only know death", I am not alone I have Spite, I will kill to protect you, don't promise you will survive. I am unusure what is Lucanis romance here trying to tell me, I wish they had focused on his guilt/weight of protecting Rook more.

Bellara: too sweet for my taste. The scene does not have a fight, but we get Bellara being honest with her feelings, and saying she feels calmer with Rook (which I hate, given she is supposed to have adhd if I understand correctly, and as someone with adhd no amount of romance is gonna make me feel calmer, medicate me). It also re-iterates that Bellara feels bad about who she is, and Rook makes her feel better. The scene does not seem to tell me anything new about Bellara or the romance itself.

Harding: This feels very generic. It is a "what if things go wrong", which makes sense for a scene before the big fight. It is so short, and a missed opportunity to give us a bit more given that Harding can literally die in the next mission. The point of the scene is "I am worried", Rook "It's okay we have us", Harding: "Alright".

Final romance scene:

Davrin: Look, the start makes me a bit embarassed, the shirts vanishing? the fact that Rook in the fade is barely mentioned, how Rook's size does not seem to matter at all, the Rook's breathless moaning - some of the dialogue is a bit strange, if you don't play the joke-y Rook/direct Rook. But it is also the only scene where the characters talk about their future and that to me feels like a conclusion to the romance. I was actually surprised when I got to all the other romances and I did not see the final choice of "what will you do with your LI" like in Davrin's scene. We have a Davrin who is finally living without thinking of death, we have a new choice that is then reflected in the final chat later, Rook and Davrin organize their future together (the road less travelled being one of them, which Davrin says "it is how I found you" and really summarizes Davrin's whole story with the team, Rook and Assan, but also his past with his Dalish clan).

Lucanis: I really liked this scene, both the start of it with Lucanis feeling relieved and the whole "are you falling asleep", and Lucanis asking for Rook to talk to him. It was very sweet without being too mushy, even if it felt pretty short. The scene pulls together Lucanis' attachment, showing how much he learnt to care for Rook. I am still unsure how this pulls together his whole romance (or his fight scene pre battle) more than "Lucanis trusts Rook and now Rook is part of his new life", but it is still worth it for the tenderness. And the whole kneeling part was nice, giving the whole "Dellamorte never kneel".

Taash: picking up Rook is an A+, I admit I was not a fan of the growls, but the whole discussion of their romance? lovely, even if it was pretty short. This is mainly about Taash and Rook defining their relationship, after Taash's fear of losing Rook. They are ready to be honest about their feelings, which is a nice conclusion, but I wish it had tied a bit more into what happened with Taash's quest (their mother's death mainly, especially given that their fight scene was about the risk of losing someone they love).

Neve: this is another direct continuation of the pre-Ghilan'nain scene, where Neve actually cries and we see how relieved she is. Her pushing Rook on the couch and closing the door with magic? Great, stellar. The rest of the scene is mainly about Neve finding the courage to say I love you and living day by day. It is the conclusion of her arc within the romance (tearing down her walls until she can finally admit she fell for Rook). Neve "I won't life like we are not getting one (an after)" is very sweet.

Emmrich: Lich and non-Lich are pretty similar, they are both mainly focused on Emmrich making sure there is no enchantment on Rook, then a kiss and a very humorous cute scene after they bang in a coffin. It did not add any new information to the romance, but it was still sweet, and different (given they are not in Rook's room). I just wished it had tied a bit more into their pre battle fight, or had talked a bit about their future.

Harding: I think she might have the longer scene, mainly because she does not have a lot of scenes before? I found it pretty interesting because she actually suspects for a bit that Rook is a spirit and she remembers Cole. The rest of the scene was a bit too mushy and sweet for me, and more about Harding herself than the romance. It helps define her character as someone who has gone through some really world-shattering revelations, which I think makes her a bit more compelling vs her without the romance.

Blighted Bellara coming back: I think this works a bit better than Neve's version, because Bellara and Rook generally have a more open romance. They already kind of accepted each other's feelings before, even if Bellara never said "i love you". In this scene she is trying to finally say it. It also adds a bit more about Bellara's ordeal with the blight ("you found me and saved me").

Bellara: I feel so bad for putting most of Bellara scenes at the end of each list. The final scene was very cute, very humorous for the first part. Unfortunately it felt a bit repetitive. It was clear Bellara wanted to say "I love you", through a lot of moments in the scenes and she could not say it. The whole scene seems to be about Bellara being open with her feelings and wanting to take a moment for her and Rook vs worrying about everything, unfortunately I cannot help but be annoyed at the whole "Rook makes Bellara calmer" feels I got from it. On the other hand, she is the only one who wonders if she was a regret in the fade regret prison, which I really enjoyed.

Blighted Neve coming back: The scene is the shorter version of Neve's scene, and the reverse of it (Rook is the one worried and waiting for Neve to come back). It feels a bit empty given the ordeal, and given that this happens after the game actually ends. I did not play this, but from what I see it has no "I love you" after and it ends with neve closing the door and it 100% (at least for me) makes Neve's romance feels strangely unfinished because so much of the previous scenes in it were about Neve not being able to not feel fear about losing Rook.

[simplyreveries]

Hiii!! Can I request headcanons for how the overblot crew holds you?? Btw i really loved reading your posts! You're such a good writer

holding you; overblot boys

TY LOVELY<3

riddle rosehearts

as mentioned before, riddle is usually the one held- he is a shameless little spoon haha. he prefers to be against your heart as he holds you tightly and lets out the longest sigh as if to let go of his stress and tenseness melt away just by being with you like this.

he doesn't necessarily ask to cuddle or anything, but you can tell when he's craving some of them from you. he just hadn't realized (and frankly still hasn't) how touch starved he is so once he's comfortable, he's hooked.

riddle can’t help but lean against you sometimes, usually when he’s having a hard time during the day as dorm leader and responsibilities, he tries ever so hard to keep up with. if you’re just sitting next to him talking to him or showing him something on your phone, you’ll notice him inching closer and closer to you until your arms are pressed together and leaning face his real close to yours. if you happen to point that out, he'll quickly move away all flustered.

leona kingscholar

he holds onto you all the time because you’ve become his own pillow when he’s wanting to take a nap. you’ll find yourself just deciding to spend the night at his dorm when too much time passes— not like you really can go anyway when he only holds you tighter whenever you shift.

leona is a perfect person for you if you’re naturally cold because he is a heater… he is always so warm when against you. I guess it’s good because his dorm can get chilly with the outside open to it, so you’ll only find yourself curling more against him anyway.

seriously though he like refuses to let you go unless you complain that you absolutely need to go or something. even then he's such a grump when you have to leave. especially when he's laying on your lap like the audacity?? agdjsjdk

if you’re shorter than him he’d do the thing where head yours your head or shoulders as an armrest because he’s such a jerk like that. he does it so nonchalantly too.

azul ashengrotto

undeniably clingy with you whether he wants to admit it or not. he is constantly drawn to you and your presence whenever he's around you. "i've missed you all day, pearl" he'll dramatically sigh and tell you woefully how tired and overworked he is as he puts his arms around your waist and lay his head against your shoulder burying his face into your neck.

azul prefers to be face to face when cuddling,, he likes to look at you. he loves it when you have easy access to cover his face with kisses and he can grab your hands and press his lips gently to them.

you’ll find him often putting his gloved hand around your waist and keep it on your side, he does it really without thinking. he’ll just be beside you and talking to you about something and find a way to keep a hand on you.

jamil viper

have you seen scarabia?? his room?? he's got a bunch of pillows and they're always so soft and so comfortable when he's holding you... though there are sometimes when you playfully hit him with them and he has no choice but to get you back as well. that probably was the first time you've seen him so lively.

he has a habit of holding you from behind when sleeping. like leona, he is naturally a warm person as well. he has your back to his chest and his head in your hair.. jamil is really shameless about it. he feels content in your presence and scent.

jamil falls asleep rather easily around you, its a bit funny if you're more so a night owl because he does try to stay awake around you as you talk and do whatever. as you sit up on the bed, he'll be lying beside you with his arms around you. but he can't help but feel his eyelids grow heavy and drifts to sleep.

vil schoenheit

vil is very gentle... idc what anyone says. whenever he's holding you close and cuddling, he loves to have his hand anywhere on your skin as he'd stroke your back, your arm, waist... wherever he feels like in the moment. it feels light and feathery, i just know his hands are incredibly soft too. he can't help but softly laugh whenever he sees you start to feel ticklish from it.

if you ask him to, he will hum songs for you, you get to hear his pretty voice. It’s definitely a special privilege you get by being his. you’ll get to hear your most favorite songs too; he’ll sigh and teasingly tell you you’re quite the demanding one when begging him to him your favorite songs and melodies.

he loves when he can smell the perfume/cologne just any fragrances on you. especially knowing its ones he's given and gifted to you. he enjoys the idea of you wearing something of his own like that.

idia shroud

he was so nervous to do anything even as simple and cute look that at first, even though he desperately wanted to. you’d have to initiate it first then he’d follow along and wrap his arms around you. Idia would shove his face and hide it somewhere on you, though you can feel his lips curve into a smile when it’s against your neck hehe.

idia usually always has some sort of show or movie on though, it makes it a lot less nerve wracking for him when you’ve got something like distracting. but also he totally loves just lazing around playing video games with you laying against him.

okay but once he is more comfortable be prepared for him because he definitely is pretty clingy and wants his hands on you a lot… he’ll be drained after some dorm leader meeting he was forced into participating in and he collapses onto the bed just wanting to be with you. you'll feel his cold hands snake around you and he'll snicker when you get so surprised.

malleus draconia

malleus is such a big sucker for affection from you. he doesn't even seem to care where he is or who's around him, he just sees you. he loves putting his arms around you from behind your back and hugging you. sometimes he'll slowly shift side to side in a sweet manner.

pleaseee he loves it when you absentmindedly play with his long hair. he’ll let you do whatever you want to it, he thinks it’s funny however you choose to do it. but adores it most when you're just combing your fingers through his hair. he'll close his eyes and have the most content smile on his face.

when malleus is holding you, most likely deeply asleep curled on him, his favorite thing to do is look at you... oh, so blissfully and trace your features on your face with his fingertips, lingering right on your lips. malleus has this energy around him where he'll end up feeling like the safest place you can be, ironic enough with the stigma other students hold around him. this man treats you like glass.

[doumadono]

Synopsis: in a surprising twist orchestrated by Toga Himiko, two antisocial League of Villains members, Dabi and you, find an unexpected connection during an awkward blind date

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

You’ve never been one for socializing. The whole concept of small talk, mingling, and putting yourself out there has always felt foreign to you. After all, socializing was never your strong suit, and you were quite content with your single status. You’ve always preferred the comfort of a good book or the solitude of your thoughts. 

But that’s exactly why Toga took it upon herself to organize a blind date for you. She’s always been a bit of a meddler, and apparently, your perpetual singleness was too tempting a problem for her to ignore. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” she had chirped with her usual manic enthusiasm. "Trust me, you'll love him!" Toga had chirped with a mischievous grin. "He's just like you - hates socializing, too!"

And you had no choice but to go along with it, if only to get her to stop pestering you. 

Toga had transformed one of the dingy rooms into something that vaguely resembled a romantic setting. There were candles (probably stolen), a table (slightly wobbly), and two chairs (one missing a leg but propped up with a stack of books). It was sweet in its own chaotic way, very much in line with Toga’s personality.

You sat down, fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth, wondering who in the world Toga could have set you up with. She had been annoyingly secretive about the whole thing, dropping hints that only served to confuse you more. For a moment, you wondered if Himiko might have set you up with no one else but Shigaraki himself. The boss was the most antisocial person you’d ever met, which could mean this date would be an absolute nightmare. But there was no backing out now. 

The door creaked open, and Dabi walked in. 

Your eyes widened in surprise. 

Dabi? Of all people? 

The blue-flamed villain looked as disinterested as ever, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded with boredom. “Great,” he muttered, not even trying to hide his lack of enthusiasm. “Toga’s matchmaking now.”

You offered a small, awkward smile. “Looks like it.”

Dabi slouched into the chair across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other in uncomfortable silence. Finally, he spoke. “So, how did Toga rope you into this?” he asked, his tone as dry as sandpaper.

You shrugged. “She didn’t really give me a choice. And you?”

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty much the same. I guess she thinks we’re both too antisocial for our own good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “She might be right about that.”

Dabi chuckled, a low, almost menacing sound. “Sounds like her. She loves meddling in other people’s business.”

You nodded, grateful for the small talk. “Yeah, she’s something else.”

Another awkward silence fell over you. You glanced around the room, trying to think of something to say. Your eyes landed on a small stack of books in the corner, and an idea popped into your head. “You like reading?” you asked, nodding towards the books.

Dabi followed your gaze and scoffed. “Not really. I only read articles about how great heroes are supposed to be.”

You blinked in surprise. “Why’s that?”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “So I can read between the lines and find their weak spots. It’s more fun tearing them down when you know their flaws.”

"I saw you reading something about Endeavor earlier," you ventured, trying to sound nonchalant. You were still new, still trying to weave yourself into the fabric of the League without causing too much disruption.

Dabi’s smirk faltered slightly, and his eyes narrowed. “Oh, did ya?”

“Yeah,” you continued, curious. “You were pretty engrossed in it. Do you like Endeavor?”

His eyelid gave a slight twitch, a nearly imperceptible movement, but it was the blue flames dancing over his knuckles that caught your attention. They flickered menacingly as he slowly clenched his hands into fists. "He’s just my main interest," Dabi replied, his voice dripping with a wry amusement that did not reach his eyes. There was something ominously calm about the way he spoke, a laid-back tone that contrasted sharply with the dangerous glint in his gaze.

Looking to shift the heavy atmosphere that his words had conjured, you ventured to a lighter topic, one that might catch him off-guard in a humorous way. “So, you’ve read everything about him, huh? What about fanfiction? Ever dive into that rabbit hole?”

Dabi made a scoffing sound, a dismissive and sharp exhalation that cut through the levity like a knife. His gaze hardened, the blue flames flickering dangerously as if they were an extension of his simmering rage. “I don’t give a fuck about what people write about that scumbag,” he said, his voice cold and scornful. “How they idolize him in the creations of their sick minds,” he continued, his lips twisting into a derisive sneer. “But I’m sure they’re as sick as Todoroki Enji himself. One day, I’m going to destroy that fucker,” Dabi declared, his words not just a promise but a vow, laden with all the intensity of his deep-seated hatred. 

After a moment, his fire faded out, and Dabi leaned back in his chair, looking you over. “So, I assume you read when you’re not being forced into awkward dates?”

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go with honesty. “I read a lot. Mostly horror novels. And I like to cook. It’s calming.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cool, I guess.”

The conversation continued like that, awkward and stilted at first, but slowly easing into something more comfortable. You talked about books and movies, some random stuff like your favorite food types, your mutual disdain for social gatherings, and the absurdity of Toga’s matchmaking efforts. 

At one point, Himiko burst into the room with a tray of hastily made snacks, beaming with pride. “How’s it going, lovebirds?”

Dabi shot her a withering look, slowly cocking his eyebrow. “We’re not lovebirds, Toga.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “But it’s going surprisingly well. As you can see, I’m still alive.”

Toga clapped her hands together. “I knew it! You two are perfect for each other. I’m a genius!”

She scampered off, leaving you and Dabi to your conversation. 

Despite the unusual setting and the odd circumstances, you found yourself actually enjoying the evening. 

Dabi’s dry wit and cynical outlook somehow meshed well with your own reserved nature. Dabi might not be the most conventional date, but there was something about him that intrigued you. And for someone who had always avoided socializing, that was saying something.

“So, how did you end up joining the League?” you asked, munching a jelly bean.

Dabi leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Wanted to burn the world down, found like-minded people. What about you?”

You shrugged, not wanting to delve too deeply into your past just yet. “Wanted to make a difference in my own way. The heroes… they never really helped people like me.”

Dabi’s eyes glinted with a hint of understanding. “Yeah, they’re all hypocrites.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “What about you, rookie? What do you think of the League so far?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “It’s different. I mean, it’s not what I expected, but in a good way. Everyone’s really passionate about what they believe in.”

Dabi’s gaze softened slightly as he scoffed. “Yeah, we’re a pretty dysfunctional family. But it works somehow.”

“Have you ever thought about what you’ll do after all this?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Dabi shrugged. “No. And I don’t really care. Guess I’m more of a ‘live in the moment’ kind of guy. What about you?”

You took a moment to think. “I’m not sure. I just want to find a place where I belong. Somewhere I can be myself without having to pretend.”

Dabi’s smirk returned. “Sounds like the League’s not a bad fit for you, then.”

"What do you think of Shigaraki as a leader?"

Dabi smirked, slowly stretching his fingers. "He's got vision, I'll give him that. We might be a bunch of misfits, but he’s the glue that holds us together. For now."

"Do you think he’ll succeed?" you tilted your head to the side.

As long as he keeps his head on straight and doesn’t get too ambitious too fast, maybe. But I have my own plans, too, and I rather focus on them.”

Curious to learn more about him, you asked, “What were you like before joining the League?”

Dabi’s expression darkened momentarily. “Let’s just say, I’ve had my fair share of shitty experiences. But that’s the past, and the past never fucking dies.”

You sensed his reluctance to dive deeper, so you shared a bit about yourself instead. “I was a loner. Never really fit in anywhere.”

He taunted, “Yeah, I get that. We’re all here because we don’t fit in out there.” Eventually, Dabi leaned forward after lazily chewing a cracker, his expression serious for once. “This evening wasn’t as terrible as I thought it’d be. And you weren't that bad either. Maybe we could do it again sometime. Without Toga’s interference, of course. I know a few nice places, far enough from these crazy maniacs.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest as you giggled, “I’d like that, Dabi.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, me too, actually.”

Perhaps there was something to be said for this whole notion of socializing after all. Maybe it could bring a little light into the shadows.

[ivystoryweaver]

With You (part 1)

next part  ||  Fic Masterlist  ||  My Masterlist

Hi, everyone! This is not my first fic, but it is my first MK fic! I have been on Tumblr for ages, but never actually posted a fic here. (I know this account is newer. My much older one is my more personal blog). 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. 

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader. No references to reader’s gender. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 2890

Warnings: Angst, drinking, alcoholism, ummm cursing? Some kissing and stuff? No actual smut. Let me know if I missed a warning. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Marc was a little quiet lately. Strangely quiet, even for him. 

After finishing your shift at the hospital and stumbling home exhausted, you were eager to see your fiancé, maybe even talk to him to see what was going on. 

After a brief eternity riding up in the old lift in your building, you finally turned the key in the deadbolt and let yourself into your shared flat. As usual, one of the boys had left on a small lamp in the entry way, its incandescent glow the only illumination in the flat except for the florescent light of Steven’s fish tank.

Depositing your belongings on the entry table and kicking off your shoes, you quietly made your way toward the bedroom. But as you passed the darkened kitchen you heard a whispered, “Shit,” followed by the sound of a glass bottle landing on the countertop.

Marc.

He was drinking. Even with only the moon’s glow through the kitchen window, you could make out his preferred brand of whiskey.

In the span of a heartbeat, you took in the sight before you. Marc was facing away from you, as if he had been staring out the window, perhaps cursing the moon. Sweatpants hung low on his hips as if he’d made little effort to tie the drawstring. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt and the muscles of his back expanded with a labored breath.

Broad shoulders sagged as his fingers gripped the counter’s edge, his head bowed in what was likely shame. His curls tumbled forward, and you were certain that his long fingers had raked through them relentlessly in your absence, to be able to pull them from Marc’s preferred style.

God, he was beautiful like this, in the moonlight. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, and you wondered how he was able to bring this reaction out in you after four years as a couple. Still...you were worried.

“Marc?” You softly called, giving him a moment to hear your voice and acknowledge you before you attempted to touch him. Despite your loving and very physical relationship, he didn’t like to be caught off guard by anything - most especially not by touch.

He sighed so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

“Marc--”

“I know,” he bit out, though his voice was soft, sounding insistent rather than angry. 

You paused, confused. “What?”

His hand reached for the whiskey bottle, which he lifted and quickly set back down on the counter, shoving it away from him. The liquid sloshed but didn’t spill - he had already taken care of too much of it himself. 

“I know,” he repeated, still refusing look at you, or even lift his head from its bowed position. 

Fairly certain you knew what he meant, you clarified, “You mean you know you’re drinking?” 

Huffing out a sigh, he pushed his fingers through his curls, shifting uncomfortably. He didn’t want to face you like this. You had been through this - his drinking. It was bad at one point - drinking every night, passing out, getting into fights, but he worked hard and got sober. He worked so hard...

As far as you knew, this was his first drink in two years. 

You were devastated on his behalf, but more than anything you wondered what could have caused him to pick up a bottle.

Finally, he turned his head to the side, granting you the view of his profile. “Yeah, I am. So let’s hear it.”

He was waiting for something from you. A lecture? Disbelief, anger, something. 

Pausing to calm your racing thoughts, you tried to figure out how to keep from running to him, grabbing him, overwhelming him, smothering him with love and concern. 

Impatient, he turned all the way around, leaning against the countertop to glare at you. You could barely see his face in the darkness, but you could imagine the grumpy glower he wore. 

“Well?” He asked, sounding more defeated than annoyed.

Squeezing your fists together, you exhaled quietly. Whatever anger or disappointment he was expecting from you tonight, it just wasn’t there. All you felt was overwhelming compassion and deep concern. What had hurt your Marc so deeply? Who were you going to have to tear apart? 

Easing toward him, you moved carefully, slowly, angling your body toward his side, ending up beside him. Placing one hand gently on his forearm, you felt it flex in nervous anticipation. He stopped breathing as your eyes flicked up to his. 

“Are you hurt, Marc?” You softly inquired, not even daring to squeeze or rub his warm flesh. 

Exhaling shakily, he quickly shook his head.

You rubbed your thumb across his arm, feather soft, that small point of contact searing your skin with yearning for him. “Is this okay, sweetheart?”

His chest rose with a pained breath. With a slight nod, his chin dropped down to his chest, unable to look at you anymore.

You dared to rub and down his arm then. Small strokes of your fingertips dancing on his flesh, soothing, not demanding. “Missed you today,” you said sweetly, momentarily ignoring what was clearly agitating him the most - what you would think of him breaking his two-year sobriety. 

Truthfully, your concern was growing with every passing moment. But you knew Marc as well as you knew yourself. You could get nowhere with him if he didn’t feel safe. And was so safe with you. You would burn worlds down for this man you were about to marry. 

“What are you doing?” he harshly whispered, recoiling only a fraction from your touch. “I almost finished the bottle.” A confession of sorts. 

Gently giving his arm a final squeeze, you let go, after laying a soft kiss to his bare shoulder. Reaching for the bottle, you shocked the hell out of your fiancé by taking a swig, wincing as the strong liquid burned your throat. 

“Damn,” you gasped, immediately taking another drink. “You didn’t save much for me.” Tipping the bottle again, you never got to your third swig before Marc ripped it from your grasp.

“What the hell are you doing? Don’t drink that shit.” He flung the bottle into the sink, where it crashed and broke. It definitely sounded more dramatic than it looked - he hadn’t tossed it very hard, but you still involuntarily flinched, which, of course, worried and upset Marc. 

“Shit, baby...I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to...I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s okay, Marc, I’m okay,” you quickly assured him, moving fully into his personal space for the first time all evening. You decided to move and speak with confidence from here on out. He needed to know where you stood. Placing your palms soothingly on his broad, bare chest, you felt his thundering heart. 

“Hey,” you whispered, gazing lovingly up into his frantic eyes. Repeating his name, you waited for him to look down at you, into your eyes, which he finally, reluctantly did. 

“I’m sorry,” you softly soothed, reaching up to trace his jaw line with your fingertips. “I didn’t mean to upset you by having a drink.”

“Why?” he harshly whispered. “I don’t want you drinking that.”

You made a face, “Baby, you were drinking that.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He jerked away from your touch. “So just say what you’re going to say. Just fucking say it.”

So he was waiting on a lecture. Or a fight maybe. 

“Is there any more?” you asked as he began to pace the kitchen floor. He looked a bit like a caged animal - contained but alert. 

He paused for a moment, almost snarling at you, but seeing your innocent, truly curious expression, he quickly decided that maybe you were really curious and not mocking him. 

“Steven’s bookshelf,” he answered candidly. “The one by the closet - you know, the ones he never reads.”

You nodded slowly, pushing off the counter to walk that way. “Clever,” you replied. Marc was hot on your heels but said nothing else until you retrieved a second bottle of whiskey - same brand - and walked it back to the kitchen.

He assumed you would open the cap and pour it down the drain. He actually wanted you to. But all you did after twisting off the cap was take another long, burning swig. 

Before he could begin to react, you asked, “Are you going to have anymore to drink tonight?”

Shaking his head in disbelief, he grabbed the bottle from your hand and finished what he thought you had started. The amber liquid tumbled from the bottle, splashing in the sink and filling the air with its stale tang. 

“What is wrong with you? Shouldn’t you be the one doing this?” He huffed, dropping the empty bottle to join the first, broken one. 

“No, I absolutely should not be the one doing this, Marc,” you evenly responded. “I should not be pouring out the alcohol that you brought into our home. That is not my job.”

“Ah, there it is,” he snapped, his fists clenching as he leaned toward you, ready for a (verbal) fight. “Let’s hear it, then. Tell me how much I fucked up.”

“No.” Your voice was calm and you took a confident but small step backward. It was not a step of fear, but simply a way to diffuse the fight he was apparently expecting. 

“Marc, you’re a grown man. I’m not going to scold you, or lecture you, or tell you what to do. And despite what you may have been expecting, I’m not going to fight with you. If you want to drink, you’re going to drink. There is nothing I can do or say to change that.”

He looked stricken. Were you giving up on him? Tears stung the corners of his eyes before he could stop them. He’d had a lot to drink and his head was starting to pound. If you weren’t even putting up a fight, he must have really screwed everything up.

“A-are you...are you going to leave?” He whispered, physically withdrawing, turning to brace himself on the countertop once more.

“No, baby,” you answered him evenly, confidently. “I will never leave you. Not unless you made it impossible for me to live here with you. But you wouldn’t do that. Ever.” Easing over to him, you gently laid your cheek against his bare back. “I’m your partner. Not your boss, or a god or a parent. We’re a team. If you’re hurt, I’m there with you. I’m here, Marc. I’m here.”

“But I fucked up,” he shook his head sadly, his voice breaking. “All that work, all that fucking work to stay sober and I...”

“Exactly,” you agreed, carefully sliding your arms around him from behind, watching for any sign of physical discomfort from him. “You made a choice tonight and you hate the choice you made. That’s all that matters. You’re the person that you answer to. What you say goes. If you want to do better for someone, it has to be you. Not me, not Steven. You. Nothing I do will ever change that. Nothing I ever say will keep someone from doing what they decide to do.” 

You squeezed him gently. “So no fights from me. No lectures. But I’m not going to baby you either. If we’re going to drink, that’s the way it’s going to be. You and I can accept that reality or a different one. A reality with no drinking. That’s why I took the drink tonight. It’s just a drink. It’s not evil. It doesn’t have a motive. It’s just liquid in a bottle. It’s what you feel right before you drink -that’s what you have to ask yourself, Marc. What happened right then?”

His body seemed to crumple in on itself and he slowly sank down to the cool tile of the kitchen floor, his back pushing up against the cabinets as he shook his head sorrowfully.

“I can’t,” he gasped, tears trailing down his beautiful, moonlit cheeks. Shaking his head despondently, he turned his broken gaze to yours as you joined him on the floor. “I can’t...everything will change now, I just can’t.”

How could he do this to you...to Steven? He was trying so hard to hide everything he’d learned from Steven - that they were not alone in this body. That there was another. And Khonshu. Stupid, fucking Khonshu still had them enslaved. How could he ever tell the two of you? He had only known for two days and it was killing him inside.

“Come here, baby,” you soothed, reaching to pull him into your arms. Something had happened to set him off. You were certain of it now, more than before, and despite your calm demeanor, you were scared.

Your worries both eased and doubled when his body softened in your embrace and a British accent greeted your ears.

“Darling...what’s all this, then?” Steven asked you, nodding to his state of undress and your positions on the hard kitchen floor. 

“Steven,” you breathed, pulling him in for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he sweetly replied, granting you a soft kiss. “You alright, love?” 

Before you could answer, he shook his head slightly, “Bollocks, got a bit of a headache. Has Marc been drinking?”

The look on your face told him everything. 

“Bloody hell,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “Two years sober right down the drain.”

Honestly, the sobriety thing, although crushing for him, was not the highest priority right now. Something was wrong with Marc. 

“Steven, let’s go to bed,” you decided, standing up and offering him your hands. 

Several minutes later, you and your fiancé slid under the covers, freshly washed up and ready for bed. 

“Steven,” you softly repeated his name, running your fingertips over his jaw line, the way you had done with Marc earlier. “I love you.”

“I quite love you too, darling,” he sweetly replied, kissing you softly. “Now tell me what’s the matter.”

“Do you...are you aware of anything going on with Marc?” you asked as Steven’s arms slid securely around you. “I think something’s wrong - like big picture wrong. We didn’t have a fight, like - I don’t think the problem is with us. Did something happen?”

Rubbing your back soothingly, Steven answered the best he could. “Not that I know of. Marc has honestly been a bit closed off with me lately. He is somewhat of a quiet bloke from time to time, but...yeah, I’m pretty certain he’s not been exactly an open book these last few days.”

“Okay,” you breathed, trying to think of what could have happened. “I’m sorry for putting you in the middle, my love. I try not to do that, but he was so upset tonight, and the drinking...”

“He..he didn’t upset you, darling? Or...hurt you? Did he?” His warm brown eyes darkened in concern.

“What, Steven, of course not,” you insisted, sitting up in bed. “You two would never hurt me, I know that.”

“Of course, love, but it’s just...” Steven hesitated, sitting up to join you. “Marc isn’t always at his best when he’s been drinking and...when I was holding you, just then, you--you’re trembling.”

It was true. You hadn’t realized it, but you were more upset than you’d realized. 

Letting out a sigh of defeat, you reached for your fiancé, whispering his name pleadingly as you climbed across his lap. Strong arms wrapped around your back, gripping you firmly as he pulled you into his chest. 

“I’ve got you,” he breathed against your lips. “It’s alright, love.”

Feeling so safe in his arms, against his strong body, you pressed your lips against his, your fingers caressing up his neck, into his curls. Your body melted into his embrace as you slid your tongue over his. Admittedly, you were feeling a little desperate and Steven was most likely intoxicated, but it was heavenly to feel him pulling you into him as your tongues tangled, hands grasping to get somehow closer.

You went on like that for a short while, rubbing your body against his, sucking on his tongue the way he loved, fingers threaded through his curls, which made him almost feral. Lurching forward, he tumbled on top of you, ignoring the pounding in his head and running his hands up your bare thighs. 

Despite how wonderful you felt, he paused, touching his forehead to yours for a moment of reprieve. 

“Steven, are you okay?” You managed to whisper between kisses, looping your arms around his neck. “Your head still hurting?” You asked because you could tell he was holding back a little. You had been kissing for a while and his hands had yet to travel underneath your underwear or (Marc’s) oversized white t-shirt. 

Easing his forehead down to your collarbone, Steven pressed a kiss to the soft skin of your chest. “Too much bloody whiskey,” he murmured. “Sorry, darling.”

“It’s okay. Feels good,” you breathed on his ear, which made him shiver.

“Didn’t mean to get too distracted, love,” he conceded, rolling off of you and rubbing his temples. “I know you’re worried about Marc. I am too, if I’m honest.”

There were no answers for you that night. Steven realized quickly that he needed some sleep and the two of you hoped that Marc might be there the next morning to give you some answers.

[dwaekkicidal]

Hii 🫶🏻

First off: I have to tell you your Han series has me in a chokehold I CAN NOT get over it! 😍😍 it just hit all the right spots 😍😫

I don’t know if your request are open but if they are could I request with Han and female reader where Han is jealous/possessive of his girlfriend? Maybe because she is still in the same friend group with her ex or if you prefer give it any other motivation. It can be either swf or nswf, do as you prefer really (but if it is nswf could you make the reader to have a big breast and Han with a 🍒fixation maybe?)

Anyway I love you blog! Have a nice day! 🫶🏻😘

me when i get to self insert myself into a fic cause i have big boobies😼 ALSO TY ASDHJKASDJK i kept feeling really insecure about that series but its getting so much love :''))) im happy you are enjoying it as well as my blog <3

Cherries

˚ʚHan Jisung x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.8k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, reader has big boobs but no other physical features described, ex has they/them pronouns, kinda out of character ji?, exhibitionism, nipple play, brief mentions of p in v

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han’s eyes were narrowed, so sharp that you could cut diamonds with it. He watched intently as you conversed casually with your friend group. It’s not something he thought he would ever see himself getting genuinely mad over, but the familiar face in the crowd made his blood boil.  Had this exact situation taken place more than a year ago, Jisung would have been an anxious mess. Probably would be fiddling with his jacket’s sleeves and restlessly bouncing his leg while his mind went to the worst places possible. But now, after dating you for over 2 years, he was more confident in himself.

Don’t be fooled! He still gets jealous easily. Very easily… but it doesn’t make him as angsty as it used to. Nowadays all he feels is anger. The only thoughts that fill his mind are ones along the lines of “How dare that person talk to my girlfriend like that. Who do they think they are?” while strangers blatantly flirted with you, and he would make fun of them with words like “Did you see their face when you rejected them?? Fucking loser lol” when you would make a face and deny them before running back into his arms.

But those were with strangers. Not with your stupid ex. The same ex who made you hesitant going into this relationship with Han in the first place. And the same ex that managed to snake their way back into your friend group. While his thoughts were about the same, Han wasn’t very keen on taking his eyes off of them. The trust was still there with you, but he knew better than to trust your ex. The slimy, sugar-coated lies they told the group wouldn’t work on him. 

A hand being placed on his shoulder cut him from his thoughts. He was in full fight mode and completely missed the way you walked up to where he was on the couch. The game room the group had rented out for a few hours was filled with their booming voices and a random playlist off of somebody's Spotify. Some people were playing pool while the others stood nearby to watch and instigate mini brawls here and there. He was the only one who idly sat on the couch, drink in hand.

You knew he was in guard dog mode because of your ex’s presence so you made sure to break your attention from the group regularly to check up on him. Only this time he accidentally ignored you, so you made your way towards him. “You okay, Ji?” You smiled sideways and tilted your head, stealing a sip from his soda and settling yourself between his legs. Immediately all the anger drained from his body and he smiled up at you. His hands wrapped around your waist and he sat up, pulling you closer as he nodded.

“Yeah... Sorry haha.” You smiled sweetly and placed his cup on the coffee table, wrapping your arms around his neck once the cup was safely set down. “It’s okay, I know the situation is a little uncomfortable.” You whisper and tighten your hold around him, squeezing him lovingly and giggling to yourself when he rests his cheek against your chest. He grins like an idiot at his personal pillow and shoves his face harder until you eventually get red in the face and push him back. “Hey now… We’re still in public.”

“That can change. Let’s go home right now and I’ll show you a good time?” He smirks and pulls you closer. His chin rests against the top of your chest and he looks up at you with puppy eyes and his signature pout. “C’monn… I’ve been good all day.” His hands drop down to your hips, digging his fingers into them as his voice drops an octave, “‘Promise to show you a good time. You know Hannie always takes care of his baby-”

Your name gets called and the both of you jump. You chuckle and turn in his grasp, now standing sideways to respond to the person. He let his eyes return to your group, simply curious about who you interrupted his begging but was made even angrier by the expression that painted your ex’s face. They were frowning deeply behind their drink and glaring at the two of you, obviously wired up about his hands that were wrapped around you. Han stared back with the same fire, knowing all too well what the other person wanted. But then he smiled to himself.

As you casually chatted with your friend, Han let his hand fall down to your waist. He did it at an angle that only showed it off to your ex, making them watch as his hand slipped under your shirt. The fabric bulged out as he grabbed a handful of your tits, kneading the flesh there as they held eye contact. Eye contact that was held as he leaned in, hiding his face from everybody else as he wrapped his lips around your clothed nipple. He made a show of even sticking his tongue out and licking your nipple over your shirt while his other hand continued to squeeze the other boob from, what seemed like, the inside of your bra

Han’s ego inflated to the size of the sun as he watched your ex’s jaw drop. Their eyes went up to your face and, besides the blush that covered it, there wasn’t a single reaction. You were so used to it that the obscene action didn’t even make you flinch. Which only pissed your ex off more. They huffed and shook their head, walking to the door and mumbling something along the lines of ‘Fuck this.’ While everybody’s attention turned to the first person to leave the function, you turned to your boyfriend and shook your head at him. “Really? All that about behaving too.”

“Not my fault their edgy ass didn't like it. I licked it so it’s mine.” You laughed and parted from your boyfriend, returning back to the pool table. After that, it didn’t take long for everybody to separate. The people who didn’t have the balls to be the first to leave shortly made their way out after your ex did. Your boyfriend was one of them as well and quickly made it obvious to you that he genuinely wanted to leave soon, so you both bid your farewells and made your way outside.

The second your food hit the concrete, Jisung dragged you to the nearest empty alleyway. One that, if the sun wasn’t already set, would have been very easy to look down and see the two of you. Alas, your boyfriend did not have a single care about that. If anything, the thought of somebody seeing you only egged him on.

Han shoves you into the brick wall, slamming his lips against yours and running his hands all over your body. They started at your thighs, where he squeezed the flesh of your thighs before sliding up to your hips and doing the same. Then his hands rested at your hips for a moment. He was too distracted pushing his tongue past your lips to continue on with his expedition. Once you both found a comfortable rhythm and your hands ran up his arms, he started moving again.

This time he slowly ghosted his hands up your stomach and stopped at your chest where he squeezed your boobs tightly. Then he pulls away from your lips, smirking at you and pecking your cheek before dipping his head down. You feel his lips against your neck and you moan quietly before rolling your neck to the side, giving him more space to work with. He doesn't linger there for long though. As much as your boyfriend loves marking you up, he only leaves a single one to your neck before he dips even lower.

He leaves a trail of kisses on his way to your boobs and, before you have the chance to react or push him away, his hands tug your shirt up to your neck. “Ji- Wait until we get home, baby. We shouldn’t do this he-” He cuts you off by nibbling your right nipple through your bra. His other hand slides under the bottom hem of your bra, grabbing a handful of your boob and rubbing that nipple between his middle knuckles. You moan loudly and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging it in hopes that he would pull away but also stop and just take you to do this at home.

He moans against your clothed nipple and licks it seductively through the fabric, looking up at you with those brown boba eyes. Despite his lack of words, you already know what those pretty eyes want. You bite your lip and nervously look towards the entrance of the alley, watching as cars dart back and forth. But no people. “F-Fuck. Fine. But make it quick!” He smiles widely against you and nods.

His head pulls away from you for a moment, only to allow him to reach around and undo your bra. He doesn’t even bother taking it off of you, he just pushes it up with your shirt and dives back in. “Mine.” A loud moan leaves your lips as he suddenly bites the side of your tit, then he apologetically licks over his teeth marks. “Yours.” He smiles and grabs both of your boobs, fondling them as he alternates his attention to each nipple.

“God. I fucking love your tits, Jagi. And they’re all mine, right?” You nod and throw your head back as you moan, gripping his strands even tighter than before. He moans and bucks his hips into the air. “Answer me.” One of his hands moves down to your thighs and slides up under your skirt. It dips deeper, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your panties before wrapping around behind you and grabbing a handful of your ass cheek. “Jagiya… Say. It. A-gain.” He lands a sloppy slap to your ass with each word, smiling into your boob when your legs clench together.

“‘M yours, Ji! Please, babyy~” He wastes no time after that, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to poke out. The hand that was on your ass pumps his dick a few times as his other pushes your leg up, holding it up and giving him space to fuck into you. His mouth finally releases your nipple in favor of poking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he pushes in. Both of you moan at the feeling and lock eyes for a moment before he leans in and pushes his lips against yours.

He pulls away and leans down again, wrapping his lips around your neglected nipple. Then he tests the water with slow thrusts. Ones that speed up rather fast once he realizes how deep he can go in this position. The grip he has on your hips is bruising as he starts to slam his hips into yours.

“Mine. All fucking mine.”

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

[arcane-vagabond]

By Its Cover: Chapter Three

By Its Cover: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (Last Name: Sinclair)

Summary: The frivolity of high society has never much interested in you. You preferred to spend your time reading, something your sisters couldn't fathom as they spent their time shopping the latest dress styles. The youngest of five children and the fourth daughter, not much was expected of you. You knew you might be married one day, but you hoped beyond hope that it would be to someone that might understand your intellectual pursuits. You begin exchanging letters with a mysterious stranger, and what's more, your older brother's rakish best friend seems to find himself in your path more and more as the season goes on. What's a girl to do? (Regency!AU)

Content Warning: Historical inaccuracies probably, Promenading, Lingering looks, Stolen glances, Yearning, Gossip, Disregard for personal space, General anxiety, General self-esteem issues, Mean words. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.4k

Series Masterlist || Moodboard

Promenading was a terribly boring affair as far as you were concerned. Or at least, it was when spending the time with your overly zealous older sister. Georgie had insisted on sticking close to Lord Seresin, relegating you to the back with your mother and brother. The two of them conversed amongst themselves, leaving you to your thoughts, your hands itching to find a shaded spot where you could continue to read.

You found the book to be quite riveting so far, admiring the Elizabeth Bennet’s wit and bravery as she traversed the unknown landscape of the upper class. You had laughed at her sly remarks to Mr. Darcy, and envied her close relationship with her older sister. You imagined that Lydia and Theodosia were much like them, the way they were always giggling between each other. You had wanted something like that with Georgie, but you were quick to understand that your feelings were not reciprocated. No, Georgie preferred her gossip and shopping to your books and painting.

You caught Lord Seresin’s eye as he glanced back at you. His eyes twinkled as his lips curled into a smile before giving you a quick wink. Your cheeks heated, eyes growing wide at his boldness. He grinned at your reaction, lips pressing into a firm line as he tried to hold back a laugh, instead choosing to make it appear that he was laughing at one of Georgie’s—positively awful—jokes. You shook your head, ridding your mind of any lingering thoughts about the man in front of you. You glanced around the park, noting several newly presented ladies already chatting with suitors. The pairings thus far weren’t very interesting or gossip worthy as far as you were concerned.

Your eyes continued to flit about the garden until they met deep brown ones. Your mood perked up immediately upon sight of Natasha, an eager smile breaking out across your face as she hurried towards you.

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” she breathed as she saddled up to you, linking your arm with hers. “I was beginning to think I would die of boredom.”

“It would appear you and I share one mind,” you laughed, squeezing her arm as the two of you fell in to step just in front of William and your mother. Natasha’s eyes flickered back towards them, a coy gleam in them as she looked at your brother.

“I saw that,” you whispered, a knowing look on your face as she blushed, shushing you quickly before promptly looking forward.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Bug,” she stated, fighting the smile that threatened to break out across her face. You hummed, not believing her in the slightest when she peered over at you with a knowing look of her own.

“Although, I have heard some interesting tidbits about you and your sister this afternoon,” she teased, smirking as your eyes shot to hers.

“What on earth could they possibly be saying about us?” You scoffed. “The season has hardly even begun.”

“Well, what a beginning it’s been then,” she said. “The word around the Island is that a certain lady has her eye on the Duke of Austin.”

“That’s hardly newsworthy,” you sniffed, looking at your sister before shifting your gaze back to Natasha. Her eyes danced with amusement as her smirk grew bigger.

“Ah, but you haven’t heard the rest of it,” she grinned. “As it would turn out, the Duke of Austin appears to have his eyes pinned on another.”

You frowned, already not liking where this was going.

“No,” she continued. “He, in fact, has his eyes set on her sister if the whispers are to be believed.”

Your stomach did a flip, your skin suddenly feeling slightly clammy.

“That’s simply just not true,” you muttered, eyes cast toward the ground. It couldn’t be true. You weren’t nearly as good a prospect as Georgie. Sure, Georgie was prideful and snobbish at times, but she was beautiful, elegant, and sure to make a most wonderful bride to some eligible bachelor. You were none of those things. You were opinionated, stubborn, and much too quick to anger. You weren’t the type to be a graceful lady of an estate. No, you knew deep down in your heart that you would grow old in age living as a spinster on your family’s estate. Although, a secret part of you always hoped for more.

“Bug,” Natasha scowled, leaning in further as she lowered her voice so only you could hear. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Looks at me how?” you muttered.

“Like you’re the most divine creature he’s ever had the privilege of beholding,” she smirked. You frown, irritated that you were even entertaining the, quite frankly, foolish notion that a man such as Lord Seresin, a duke no less, would ever feel anything but muddled curiosity for someone like you.

“This is ridiculous,” you hissed, moving to pull back, but Natasha stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Is it?” She questioned, eyes glancing in front of the both of you before looking back at you. “Because from where I’m standing, the man has hardly been able to stop looking at you. Perhaps the notorious rake of the Island is ready to settle down.”

You glanced over just as Lord Seresin’s head whipped back forward, a twinge of pink to his ears as he smiled at something your sister just said. You felt a pang in your chest, uncertain and unable to pin the emotion that suddenly filled you. You pressed your lips firmly together as you continued your walk in silence.

“Excuse me, Miss Sinclair.”

Your little party stopped as Mr. Darnstead came up to stand in front of your sister. You saw the way Georgiana’s lips curved coyly, the glance she cast to her right as she greeted the man in front of her.

“Hello, Mr. Darnstead,” she purred. “How are you enjoying the weather this fine day?”

Natasha squeezed your arm once more to get your attention. You turned your head to see her apologetic smile as she stepped back with a sigh.

“My mama is calling for me,” she frowned, gesturing to the woman in question who stood by the pond with a young man. Natasha’s mother had a look of eagerness as she waved for her daughter, and you gave your best friend a sympathetic nod.

“Good luck,” you whispered, squeezing her hand before watching her go. You startled as William stepped up beside you, a furrow to his brow as he watched Natasha’s retreating figure.

“Is that Lord Anson?” He asked, sparing you a glance. You scrunched your nose at him before shrugging.

“I have no idea,” you answered, a sly smile curling at your lips. “Why do you wish to know?”

William turned to you with an owlish blink that had you snickering into your hand. He scowled down at you, bumping your shoulder with his as he fought the smile that threatened to spread out across his face.

“That’s enough out of you,” he admonished playfully, earning a giggle from you.

It was quieter by the fountain that stood guarded by the giant hydrangea bushes and green hedges. You were the only one to venture to this part of the park, most everyone keeping closer to the main walkway where they were sure to be seen by all of society and any potential matches.

You enjoyed the quiet, truly you did. The chirping of birds and hum of insects complimenting the steady trickle of the water in the fountain. It was a nice, little corner that offered you some semblance of privacy while still being in full view of your ever watchful mother, though she seemed more preoccupied with Georgie and her many suitors that had come flooding out of the woodwork than her youngest daughter. You were grateful for the reprieve, sneaking away quietly to try and find some time to continue reading your book. You were making steady progress, admiring Elizabeth Bennet’s refusal of Mr. Collins when accepting would have been not only beneficial, but expected.

Your mother and brother seemed determined for you to marry, but you knew it was a lost cause. No respectable man of the Island would want to marry the strange, youngest daughter of the noble Sinclair family—especially when there seemed to be constant whispers about her ineptitude as a lady.

You sat perched on the edge of the fountain, feeling the mist from the water on your skin, a shiver running up your spine at the coolness of the water. You set your book down, standing to make your way towards the last remaining blossoms of the hydrangeas. You were happy to see them given how late in the year it was. Your family’s estate had a couple of bushes in its garden, but they were kept pruned short unlike the plants before you. The bush toward over you, making you feel small by comparison.

Your hand rose to cradle one of the last group of blossoms, smiling at the bright, blue petals. The ladies of the Island seemed to favor the bright pink and noble purple blossoms more, but you had always had a fondness for the blue. You leaned forward to sniff the sweet smell, humming with a smile.

“There you are.”

You jumped, whirling around to come face to face with Lord Seresin. He put his hands up, an amused smile on his lips as he looked at you.

“Woah,” he chuckled, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “Easy. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t,” you lied, frowning and looking away.

“Right,” he said quietly, shoving a hand into his pocket. “I thought I might find you over here.”

You hummed, fingers toying with the hydrangea blossoms once more. You weren’t sure how to talk to him. He was just a boy you had once known before last night, a friend of your brothers who used to carry you around on his back across the fields of your family’s estate. A boy who always indulged you, much to the annoyance of William. He always had a smile for you or a treat of some kind. You had been sad when he stopped coming around.

Now he was a handsome, young Duke of marrying age. You were not blind to the stares he received from the ladies of the Island—and even some of the men—as he had walked through the park with your family. He had become sturdier since his youth, and the very thought had heat rising to your cheeks.

As if he could read your mind, his lips curled into a smirk, and he took several steps towards you, bridging the gap that had kept your nerves at bay.

“You always did like the flowers,” he mused, his fingers coming up to rest against the same blossoms. He was so close, you could feel his body heat radiating off of him, the smell of his cologne competing with the sweet perfume of the flowers. You took a deep breath, lips parting as you took in his scent, eyelashes fluttering as it overwhelmed you.

“You used to bring them to me all the time,” he continued, eyes softening at the memories.

“Did I?” You asked, cursing how breathy your voice sounded.

“Oh, yes,” he grinned, plucking a blossom off the bush and handing it to you. “That and whatever creature you managed to dig up.”

You took the flower from his hands, cheeks becoming hotter at his teasing and the way his fingers brushed against yours.

“Your grace,” you started, but Lord Seresin frowned.

“Jake,” he corrected.

“Jake,” you sighed, grimacing. “Perhaps we should rejoin the others.”

“Why?” he asked with a frown. You pursed your lips, eyes flickering down to the flower in your hand. Anything to escape his intense green ones.

“I think it would be wise in order to avoid scandal,” you murmured, eyes darting towards the main pathway where several of high society’s elite strolled.

“I didn’t know you were so concerned with the thoughts of high society,” he smirked, leaning closer. You leaned away, eyes wide as his breath fanned over your face.

“Why would I not be?” You challenged, brow furrowing. “I am a lady of one of the noble families. To ruin my reputation is to ruin all of theirs as well.”

“You think I’m out to ruin your reputation?” He asked, smirk faltering. You stared at him for a second, mind reeling at his proximity and unsure of how to respond.

“What are your intentions with my sister?” You blurted out. Jake balked, confusion spreading out across his face.

“What?”

“Your intentions with my sister,” you continued, meeting his eyes with faux confidence. “You have quite the reputation, Lord Seresin. I would hate to see her caught up in it.”

All traces of mirth were gone from his face by the time you finished speaking. A dark glimmer in his eyes had you hesitating, but you stubbornly stood your ground, waiting for his answer.

“And what, pray tell, is my reputation, Miss Sinclair?” He challenged, a growl in his voice that most certainly did not make you feel flustered. Your mind raced back to the words Natasha and William had both spoken to you.

“They say you’re a rake,” you declared, lifting your chin. “Rumor has it that you’d rather spend your time with a different lady every night than settle down. That you spend your nights drinking and gambling until the sun rises. If you mean to court my sister, that will have to stop.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced with a cold veneer, his jaw clenching.

“I’m surprised you of all people would listen to the wretched gossip that everyone seems so fond of,” he said coolly, standing up straight and taking a step back from you as he adjusted his jacket. “Given how you yourself are the subject of some. Just a silly little girl with her head in the clouds and no understanding of the world around her. You’ll be lucky to find a match at all is what they say about you.”

The hot sting of tears prickled at the back of your eyes. Of course you weren’t a stranger to the things people whispered about you, only a fool would be. But in that moment, the image of the sweet boy who entertained you all those years ago is shattered.

You felt your lower lip wobble, and the cold look in Jake’s eyes crumbles as it’s replaced with one of regret.

“Lady Bug, I-” He started, reaching a hand out to you, but you jerked back. You gave him one last look, schooling your features as you rushed past him.

“Excuse me,” you sniffled, cursing as your voice trembled. You didn’t look back, making a beeline towards where your mother stood.

“Mama,” you called, the older woman turning to face you. Concern pulled at her brow and lips as she looked at you.

“Whatever is the matter, dearest?” She asked, cupping your face in her hands as she looked you over. You cleared your throat as you glanced to the ground.

“I’m suddenly not feeling well,” you lied. “Might I take the coach home?”

Your mother hesitated, and you could feel his eyes on you as she glanced up at him.

“I suppose that’s alright,” she said slowly, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders. “Just have the driver come straight back once you’re home.”

You gave her a tight-lipped smile, ducking your head as you scurried away towards the entrance to the park.

You heaved a sigh as you stared out your window. You hadn’t stopped thinking about your exchange with Lord Seresin. Why had he been so upset with you? You were protecting your sister from heartbreak, warning him that the opinions of him will affect her too should he choose her as his wife. Was he angry because they had come from the lips of a woman all considered to be strange? Or perhaps it was because they were spoken aloud at all.

A knock sounded on your door, and you turned at the sound.

“Come in,” you called, thoughts still swirling inside your head. Your maid, Nora, poked her head in, a small smile directed your way.

“Good afternoon, miss,” she greeted, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. “I wanted to let you know that dinner will be served in about one hour.”

“Thank you, Nora,” you smiled, but the action seemed forced. She hesitated for a moment, flinching as you gave her a puzzled look.

“Your mother wanted me to remind you that the Duke of Austin will be joining your family this evening,” she twittered nervously.

Your heart sank, the thought of seeing him again so soon filling you with dread. Perhaps you could feign illness and stay in your room with your book-

You lurched to your feet, Nora giving a startled cry at your sudden movement. You scurried around the room, moving piles and throwing pillows in a bid to find it.

“What are you looking for, miss?” The maid asked, coming up behind you. You turned to look at her, despair coloring your features.

“My book!” You exclaimed. “The one Mr. Mitchell let me borrow! I must have left it at the park, oh no.”

“You might still have time to go back and get it,” Nora offered. “You could be back with just enough time to get ready for dinner.”

“I’d be cutting it close,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip. The sky was beginning to darken, and you huffed out a breath.

“We must go quickly,” you decided. Nora grabbed your cape as you hurried out of your room. She chased after you, wrapping the cape around you as you exited the house. The driver was blessedly still by the stagecoach, and you signaled to him that you were in need of his services.

“I need to get to the park,” you told him, clambering into the coach. “As quickly as you can.”

The ride was quick, but silent, the coach jostling every now and then. You thanked the driver once you had stopped, gathering your skirts and running towards the fountain. You were out of breath by the time you reached it, panting as you looked to the spot you had set it down at earlier. Your stomach did a flip as you looked, the book nowhere in sight. You did two laps around the fountain before letting out a groan.

“Blast it all,” you cursed, hiding your face in your hands. How were you going to explain this to Mr. Mitchell?

With a sigh of defeat, you trudged back to the coach, your driver giving you a sympathetic look as he helped you inside. The ride back felt slower despite using the same route as before. When the coach stopped in front of your home, you thanked the driver once more before trudging inside. You heard voices coming from the parlor, and you knew you’d have to move quickly unless you wanted to hear another lecture from your mother about minding the time of others.

The family butler, Mr. Stevens, approached you.

“Miss,” he greeted with a slight bow of his head. “A parcel was left for you earlier this evening.”

“A parcel?” You frowned, shrugging off your cape. “Whoever from?”

“I’m not sure, miss,” Mr. Stevens grimaced. “It was left at the door with a note on top of it.”

Mr. Stevens gestured toward the end table pressed up against the wall. You walked over to it, brow furrowed as you lifted the wrapped package, the note falling to the side. You tore at the paper, eyes lighting up once you saw what was underneath.

“My book!” You exclaimed, relief flooding you as you clutched it to your chest. Your eyes darted towards the note that lay on the table, your name in neat scrawl printed across the front. You set the book down, picking up the paper gingerly as you flipped it open. Your eyes darted across the writing, widening before you could fully process what you were reading.

What on earth?

A/N: A big shoutout to not only Ruthie, but @sorchathered for helping me make concrete decisions on this story! My works wouldn't be what they are without the help and ever present ears of my friends to help me through and bounce ideas off of.

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. If you would like to be notified on when I post updates, please follow my side blog (@arcanevagabond-library) and turn on post notifications! My work is cross posted on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[goldsbitch]

Hi🥹 cam I just say that I love your writing?

Would you be able to write something with Lando or oscar (his sister) of him/ them surprising her for her birthday? Possibly she likes christmas a lot so a christmas in July with lots of christmas deco.

It's my birthday soon and I don't really have anybody to celebrate with which is fine but I still wanted to ask

Xx

this is by far one of the sweetest asks I've ever read - sorry for taking such a long time! i got sick and the mind was just too cloudy

i do hope you'll like this. i've finished it just after the race, so it's not as fluffy as i intended this to be. hopefully we'll recover from that soon

anyway - happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Christmas in July

2 days before Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

"What brings her joy?" Lando asked as if he spoke of some impossible philosophical dilema. The only thing missing was a big white board for him to stare at. It was sometimes hard to decipher when he was joking and when he was being serious. But Oscar knew one thing - this guy would rather gather up a crowd before sorting out something on his own. He had currently set up a "war council" as he called it not-so-dramatically in order to figure a way how to approach the his sister's birthday. Among others present was his teammate.

Oscar had a dilema of his own, sitting there on a chair with few other people present on this strange meeting Lando held in his hotel room. While his teammate was trying to figure out how to cheer up his sister, who was suppose to be spending her birthday with her best friend in Budapest during their Grand Prix, Oscar was trying his best not to raise any suspicion. Nobody here knew it was nearly impossible to count the nights he had spend secretly texting with Lando's sister. It was innocent. Just two friends wishing each other good night every other day. Definitely not crossing the line at all.

Lando did not share details as to why he was suddenly putting himself in charge or his sister's birthday with the group. She had a whole thing planned with her best friend for Hungarian summer race weekend. Not even Lando had that many details about their falling out as Oscar had.

In a way, he was glad that Lando took this initiative and he could hide behind him, making sure her brother did not cross the line or got too carried away. And ensure that Y/N had the birthday she deserved. A girl probably too sweet for their world anyway. Once again, Oscar had to stop himself before he lost his thoughts completely. She was just a friend. His teammate's sister. Nothing more.

Ugh.

//

Sun kissed people smiling in streets older than time itself. Ancient glory still piercing through the cobblestones and some kind of magic the locals put to the water here, making it all dreamy and mystic.

Yeah, that's all great and amazing - unless you're there alone, bored and mad at everyone. Even the bloody sun was too much these days. And coffee too bitter this time.

Y/N was people-watching, while she enjoyed her scenery coffee alone. Every group of friends walking by and enjoying their summer felt like a personal attack. Somehow, every happy couple in the surrounding area must have decided to take a stroll around the city and her ever-so-single self had to watch it all happen.

Having a fight with a bestie is hard on its own, it's absolutely amazing when it happens around ones birthday. Right now, there were suppose be having a blast in a local spa and preferably talk about the latest boy they'd flirted with the night before. But no.

The dread of having a fallout with a friend is often worse than a break up.

There was only one person she truly wished to text at that moment, but their texting has been getting out of hand for the past days. She tried to avoid wallowing in the memories of her blushing at her phone last night. She was just a friend to Oscar, nothing more. It was impossible - he was her brother's teammate! A very sweet, funny and irresistable teammate. She imposed a self-ban on her, no texting Oscar during the day. At least today.

//

"What if I... hire a horse and have her ride on it to the paddock!" Lando said, desperation dripping from his mouth.

Oscar chuckled, this was way too much fun to watch. Lando shot him an intimidating look, making the poor guy worried for a moment. He can't possibly know, right? Oscar gulped, swallowing his next chuckle.

"Something funny, Osc?"

"No, certainly not." Never once has Oscar felt more like a school boy that right there. "Although, I would question if this is something she would truly enjoy. I imagine she is a little shy for that."

He did not need to imagine anything - he could practically see her horrified texts incoming. It has been few hours since she's responded. It was getting harder for Oscar to keep lying to himself a pretending it did not bother him.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Lando replied after a moment o thought. "Fuckin' hell. I can't just buy her a necklace. That's so lame."

Oscar agreed. Unless it was a personal one.

"I'd say you should keep it private and sweet."

Lando was getting slightly annoyed, as no clear idea seemed to come up. "No, Oscar, it needs to be an absolute bomb. Gotta cheer her up somehow."

The Australian man could not argue with that. "True. Come on, what does she like?"

"I dunno, it's hard. And like, we don't have much time. to organize," Lando sighed. He should have prepped this sooner.

Unlike Lando, Oscar had a very clear idea of which direction to go to. He just couldn't be blunt about it. "When have you seen her happiest?"

Lando frowned, his eyebrows dancing in deep thoughts. "I dunno, when she brings home a new guy?"

Oscar's stomach did a u-turn at the idea of Y/N bringing guys home. More specifically, guys that were not him. "No, I meant like - time of the year of something like that."

Silence fell over the room. "I dunno, on her birthday, maybe?! What the fuck is your point?" Lando asked bluntly. Oscar bit his lip, this was going to be painful. It was simple, obvious, hell anyone who knew her at least a bit would know the one thing she absolutely loves was Christmas - and why not have Christmas now? Get a little tree, pump it up and make it all a big jolly fun.

"Yes, but like, time of the year - what does she like the most?" Oscar tried once again.

Lando was getting impatient. "Are you hinting on anything specific or just shooting in the dark?" It sounded more like a threat than a question. Oscar had no choice but to back down, worried he might have to reveal things he wished to be private at the moment. His massive crush on Lando's sister being the main thing he had to hide.

"Nope, just trying to give you pointers..." he said and sunk deeper in his chair. For a good chunk of the next 20 minutes he had to listen to the "war council" coming up with mediocre ideas like booking up a private spa in the city centre.

//

1 day before Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

Lando woke up with a vision, a genius idea and a ground breaking concept - Christmas in July! Scratched all his other plans and had his team working on the ever-so-easy task of getting a Christmas tree in the middle of summer, on a weekend of all days. Many curse words were uttered in secrecy by his assistants.

Nevermind the three Christmas themed TikToks Oscar sent him, trying to steer his subconsciousness.

Lando created a massive group chat, instructing everyone not to acknowledge Y/N birthday the following day and to wait for the celebration after the race. Everyone was invited. Including Oscar, who was skeptical about leaving Y/N guessing the whole day. But, it was Lando's call. So he obeyed.

//

Hungarian Grand Prix 2024 and Y/N birthday

There was a strange energy in the air the whole day. Y/N had a very little contact with her brother, as he was fully deep in prep for his race. Oscar was also completely MIA. It was all terribly, terribly lonely. She shouldn't have come here. Her secret hopes of getting some alone time with Oscar totally clashed with the fact he was busier than usual. Birthday was no big deal anyway, right? Phone calls she received from her family were precious and were enough - at least this is what she tried to convince herself with when she sipped another lonely coffee. The buzz and excited people around the paddock not helping her. Nobody seemed to care. She would have thought that Oscar would. But no.

//

It was supposed to be a joyous celebration. But after the very questionable race they'd all just gone through, it was all but that. Lando really tried to push his real emotions back and be there to celebrate his sister. But it was just not working at all. Part of his wished he had done this thing the evening before. He was exhausted, pissed, sad and just wanted to go home. And she could see right through him.

When she got picked up by a driver and taken to a location unknown to her, she knew what was up. But, the decorations surprised her - someone really went all out. Christmas lights and decorations covered the whole room and big banquet with enough food to last them to the next December. It was a dream come true. But sometimes, it just takes few people to make an evening special. And the one she really wished to attend wasn't there.

Happy birthday! I hope your party is all you could have wished for. I was looking forward to be there with all of you, but I think my presence would taint it today. Hope you have a blast and have a wonderful year ahead of you!

The text lingered, as she toasted with another random person. As if it burned on her phone and through her pocket.

Thank you - congratulations of your first win!

It was a dry, cold response. But she did not have more in her to write. He did left her on read for two days. She had to remember her loayality towards her brother, who did go and created the best evening she could have asked for. She saw him, sitting at a table, deep in his own head. She went to sit next to him.

"Penny for your thought?" she nudged her brother. As soon as she spoke to him, he put on his fake smile on, the one he used the whole evening to hide his real emotions.

"Just happy you're happy," he said, clouded by his own emotions too much to see that she was in fact not having a good time. But both can pretend in order to protect the other.

"It is magnificent," she said, looking around at the massive Christmas tree. "Thank you."

Lando smiled weakly, getting sick of that sentence.

"Lando, I can see you're feeling really down. You do not have to be here just to please me. It must be horrible," she said, taking on the role of the supporter.

Her brother was crunched to his seat, visibly exhausted and completely over this bloody day. He couldn't look at her, as he felt incredibly selfish by making this about him again. As he always did.

"I'm a shit brother sometimes. I just want you to be happy," he responded.

"What a long we've travelled from you hitting me with a stick everytime mom turned around."

Lando let a small laugh out and finally looked at her.

"Ok, brother, I can't have you staying here, looking like you're about to drop dead any minute. Go do what you need to do. And we both know that is to get out of sight and have some alone time," she ordered, not having it anymore.

"You're right. As always. And hey, about that annoying friend of yours...I'll be alright. I'm sure of it." Lando never liked her, but he knew that Y/N loved her, so basic respect it was from him. Y/N's bigger issue at the moment was Lando-Oscar relationship. And her little crush. After the event today, it just seemed so out of the window.

"All will be alright," she replied, trying to convince herself more than Lando. "Now get off my party, you weirdo," she said jokingly, knowing well enough with him gone, there will be no one she truly liked left on her party. Just Lando's friend and few people from his team. But that was a reasonable price to pay for letting her brother go and deal with his emotions.

//

A knock on the door. Y/N came to the hotel quite late, but apparently someone wanted to come to visit even later.

She slowly opened the door, only to find a somewhat drunk Oscar swinging from one side to another, having troubles standing straight.

"Ssshh," he gestured immediately upon her opening the door, making in fact a louder sound than she ever planned on making.

"Oscar!" she whispered, surprised. Her heart must have stopped temporarily. He was there, standing in front of her. They were alone, for anyone to see. He was gorgeous. Stripped out of any inhibitions, barely keeping his eyes open.

"I'll stay here," he announced, rejecting an invitation that was never uttered. "I can't make your brother mad, not today. As you know."

Y/N was in a slight panic mode - the universal panic only one's crush can induce.

"I...have. A gift for you," Oscar mumbled and finally revealed his hand which was behind his back this whole time. It was a small box wrapped in the cheesiest Christmas paper. Y/N couldn't but smile at the awkward way it was wrapped, obviously Oscar himself took the time to do it on his own. "I wanted-wanted to give it to you this evening, but you know. Racing got...dramatic," he said, tripping over his own tongue. Y/N leaned closer and tried to stable him, which he rejected. "No! I will not come to your room today, no matter how much I want to," he continued denying offers that weren't made, making her laugh a bit. Drunk Oscar was a very cute Oscar. "I value you. And our...it's not a relationship, but it's also not a friendship, so let's just call it a ship," he reasoned, burped and then continued. "I value our ship and I do not want anyone to think I'm taking ad-advantage of you, so it must be done right. Today is not the day," he said, pointing his finger up. "Take this," he pushed his gift to her hands. "Lando said a necklace is a bad gift, but I don't think so. This will look pretty on your neck."

Y/N never took Oscar as a talkative drunk. But it was sweet to watch him, no boundaries at all.

"Thank you, Oscar. This is so nice of you," she said, still fighting her own surprised reaction.

"Good. I will go now. Today is not the right day to tell you I have a crush on you," he said and marched through the hallway, hopefully to his hotel room.

It was impossible to wipe off the smile out of Y/N face. Her crush liked her back. Gave her a beautiful gift.

But he was right - that day was not a good day for them to get together. But, a ship has definitely sailed.

[yuyu1024]

Honeymoon

Pairings: Wonwoo × y/n

Genre/tags: marriage, non idol

Warning: fluff, not really smut but suggestive, pet names, cursing, semi-public

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.5k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N:

------------------------------------------------------

It's honeymoom trip to Italy. And here you are sitting by the pool of the vacation house your husband rented, alone and lonely.

He have been very preoccupied. It's not by choice but something terrible happened in the business that needed his attention. Being the boss, the son of the owner of their company, he is expected to be present on meetings so he have been on his laptop most of the time.

So to break down what your schedule have been so far is:

Day 1 was a bit okay. You guy arrived, slept and ate a lot. Also luckily to have the night time to yourselves where you got to have a date night and walk around with him and also make love before crashing to dreamland.

Day 2, phew, that started very hectic. He got the call from Korea and everything spiralled. It ruined his mood and then he had to say sorry to you. Even you had a call from home, from his parents explaining what happened so... its. Alright. You are sort of used to it. You've dated him for awhile so, you've seen some of it already

Day 3, still hectic but this day, finally he have time to eat and breathe. Though he still stayed at your room and been on calls.

Day 4, today... it's boring now. Well for you. You've finished the book you started reading yesterday and you've gonne shopping already as well. You want your man. You need your husband. So funny how you miss him even though he is just in the room.

You've had enough. You need to do something or else, he will continue working.

***

[Wonwoo's phone buzzes]

💖: i miss you.

💖: pls come and join me here at the pool.

🖤: almost done.

You pout as you see his response. You are not happy. So in exchange of being disappointed, you decide to trigger him.

Wonwoo is a very shy, timid and proper person. He is very put together. Though He look cold or a snob because most of the time because of how he carries himself around other people; Wonwoo is still a gentle, sweet, caring and kind person. But one thing most people don't know about him nor even his parents probably is how conservative he is. Especially when it comes to you.

His main reason why is, he does not want to share you. Your body is his only. No other person have the right to see, touch or even admire from afar. He is protective like that.

So to make him come down to you quick, you take a very risky video by the pool. A video of you removing your long white lace kimono revealing your white two piece bathing suite. And then teasing him by pulling the string around your neck, showing him a nip slip. On purpose.

💖: [video sent]

You smile proudly as you see him view it the second it got received.

[Phone buzzes]

"What the fuck are you doing?" He sounds pissed

"Sunbathing..." you mumble as you lay down your back on your lounge chair. "My husband is busy... he prefers to do meetings than to spend time with me on our honeymoon..."

He sighs heavily. "Y/N... you know why..."

"I know." Now you sound bitter. "But isn't two days enough? And by your secretary's report everything is doing well now right?"

"It is... I just--"

"What you're doing now is your regular work. And you chose to work than to spend time with me." You are more pissed than you thought you were. "Maybe you should just fuck your work and then give birth to more workaholics mini you. Ugh!" You got up from laying down and then end the call before throwing your phone inside your straw bag. "I should just probably fly back then..." you mumble to yourself

You angrily slide your feet into your sandals, put on your kimono on and drag your straw bag.

"Where do you think you're going?" He emerges from the door, finally.

You roll your eyes away and stomp your way into the house, walking pass him. Dramatic but it felt right while doing it.

"Y/N... honey..." he calls as he follows you to wherever you are moving to.

You enter your shared bedroom, saw that his laptop is still on the desk. "I'm just going to get dress." You say while sounding more disappointed that ever. You also looked like a child that their parents said no when you ask for a treat. "I changed my mind about swimming..."

"Honey..." Wonwoo holds you by the waist, stopping you from entering the walk in closet. "Don't." He snakes his arms around you and kisses your neck from behind.

"You just want me to go swimming so I'll leave you alone in our room... so you can work..." your snort. "Maybe we should've not went on honeymoon then."

"Stop... please..." he hugs you. "I'm sorry... I got carried away... I'm not used to having vacation... I went overboard... I admit it... so please... forgive me..." he turns you around to face him. "Please?"

You stare at your husband. His hair is still messy and he is still in his pajamas. "Turn off your laptop and phone then..." you pout. "They can handle it on their own... we just have a few days left here before we leave..."

"Okay." He says, smiling

"Promise?"

"Promise." He hums before kissing you on the tip of your nose. "So... should we go and swim now?"

You try to surpress you excitment but you can't really hide it which made Wonwoo chuckle.

"My wife is so darn cute." He says before scooping you off the floor. You yelped by the sudden action but you automatically put your arms around his neck.

***

However, instead of actuallt swimming around the pool, your husband instead just cornered you in the pool and didn't stopped making out with you.

He started from rubbing your arms to help you warm up a little because the water is cold to rubbing his pelvis in you whilst sucking your soul through your mouth. He does not even care that his glasses got splashed by the water. He is just focused on kissing you and skimming your body with his hands.

"Honey..." you breathe as he goes to your neck and nibble your skin, inch by inch.

"Hmm...?" He does not stop kissing your skin. He even reached your collar bone and then shoulder

"I thought we're swimming..." you giggle

He stops and looks at you. "We are at the pool right?" His lips curves into this cheeky smile. "For me, we are swimming..." he adds before going back to kissing your neck

"But honey..." you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands laying flat on his broad shoulders. "The pool is so big... its a shame we don't do a few dive or... float on that cute little pineapple floaty."

He sighs whilst his lips is still on your skin. "Why? Do you want to show everybody your body?"

"Honey... you know we're alone right?"

He tilts his head to the side, acting like he does not know. Or does he really?

"Wonwoo... seriously?" You pinch his cheeks. "We're alone at this house... the staffs only comes in the morning up to two in the afternoon."

"Oh."

"See? You being so busy that you already forgot what they told us on day1."

He licks his lips and a smirk spreads across his lips. "That's good then..."

"Hm? Why--"

He crashes his lips again to you but this time its more aggressive. And his hands, its not just sensually skimming your body now. It has more intentions than that.

"Ugh!" Your mouth suddenly drops open, eyes in pure shock and also lust when his fingers starts rubbing your clit. "Wo...Wonwoo..." you breathe

"Your mine..." he says before he goes lower so he could reach for your chest area. "All mine." He kisses your exposed skin under that swimsuit and he leaves a very very big mark after he sucked your skin.

You arch your back a little and spread your arms around the rim of the pool. And then you lift both your legs to wrap around his waist.

"Do you want me to continue, honey?" He asks

You nod. "Please..."

He pulls the string of your buttom, revealing you under water. "We don't need this." He waves your undies and then throws it to the nearest lounge chair. "And probably, we don't need thid either..." his palms your tits over the thin cover. "This is barely covering your beautiful tits..." he says

"I only wore it for you...." you say before planting a soft kiss on the corner of his lips, teasing him as well down there. "Your hard." You whisper while you squeeze him.

"How can I not? I have my beautiful wife in front of me... wanting me..." he cups your face and kisses you. Slow and sensual. "Maybe we should get out of the pool and find a more comfortable place... I can't still risk anyone... hearing my wife moan... its for me to hear and enjoy only..."

[satansdarlin]

Spring's comfort

Oh my God, two posts in one day? New record! Anyway I wrote this to indulge my shameless love for Scott summers. (My ACTUAL hubby). Also stoner!Scott cause I said so.

Scott summers x FEM!reader

Rating: M

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: talk about weed and the consumption of it, mention of sexual tension and slight alludements to it, talk of battle feild casualties, talk of self doubt and bullying for physical appearance, The xmen are nearly a sickingly sweet family.

If you liked this check of my masterlist or put in a request if they are open

The hill behind Xavier's School bloomed with early spring's awakening, dotted with cheerful dandelions that swayed in the gentle breeze. Below, the sounds of laughter and the crack of baseball bats echoed across the grounds, but your attention was fixed on the figure hunched beneath the ancient oak that crowned the hilltop.

You traced your fingers across the weathered bark, finding the initials you and Scott had carved years ago—back when white bandages had covered his eyes instead of his now-signature ruby quartz. Those early days felt like a lifetime ago, yet some things remained constant: like Scott's stubborn refusal to show weakness, even as spring's changing pressure systems wreaked havoc with his migraines.

"Don't," Scott said through clenched teeth as you settled beside him. "I'm fine."

You kept your voice soft, barely above a whisper, but couldn't resist a touch of sarcasm. "Oh yeah, you look absolutely fantastic. I especially love how you're definitely not about to accidentally vaporize that innocent shrub down there."

He pressed his face harder against his knees, a quiet groan escaping. "Please don't start. I've already had to deal with Logan's commentary today."

"No starting, I promise." You reached into your pocket, retrieving a small bottle. "In fact, I come bearing gifts of mercy."

The secret you shared with Scott—one that would leave the entire school slack-jawed in disbelief if they knew—clinked softly as you shook out a single gummy and pressed it into his palm. The straight-laced, by-the-book Scott Summers had discovered that sometimes the best medicine came in less conventional forms.

"You're an absolute lifesaver," he murmured, carefully placing the edible on his tongue. He let it dissolve slowly, a technique you'd both learned maximized its effectiveness against the crushing pressure behind his eyes.

You settled back against the oak's sturdy trunk, maintaining a comfortable silence as the spring breeze carried distant shouts and laughter up the hill. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for Scott—one he allowed few others to witness—and you were content to simply be there, a steady presence while he waited for relief.

Minutes passed in companionable quiet before Scott finally shifted, his shoulders gradually losing their tension. "Logan caught me in the Danger Room earlier," he admitted, voice slightly rough. "Told me I was being an idiot for pushing myself when I could barely see straight."

"Well, he's not wrong," you replied, bumping his shoulder gently. "Though I'm sure he expressed it with his usual delicacy."

A small smile tugged at Scott's lips. "Something about 'stubborn jackasses' and 'teaching while half-blind.'" He lifted his head slightly, the afternoon sun catching on his visor. "I had to cancel my advanced combat class."

"The students will survive one missed lesson," you assured him. "Contrary to what you might think, the school won't fall apart if you take care of yourself occasionally."

"Says the person enabling my highly unprofessional coping methods," he countered, but there was warmth in his voice now, the edge of pain finally beginning to fade.

You grinned. "Hey, I prefer to think of it as 'providing alternative therapeutic solutions.' Very professional. I could probably write a paper about it."

"Please don't." But he was actually chuckling now, the sound soft and genuine. The medication was starting to take effect, easing the vice-grip of pain that had been squeezing his skull. "Though I'd love to see the Professor's face if you tried to present that at a medical conference."

"'The Effects of Cannabis on Optic Blast-Induced Migraines: A Case Study,'" you intoned in your best academic voice. "I'm sure it would be very well-received."

Scott shook his head, but he was smiling properly now. The worst of the migraine was passing, leaving him tired but no longer in agony. He leaned back against the tree beside you, your shoulders touching. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For knowing when to find me. For..." He gestured vaguely, encompassing everything—the medicine, the company, the lack of judgment.

"Always," you replied simply. "That's what friends are for.”

The word "friends" settled between you like autumn leaves, delicate and somehow tinged with melancholy. You became acutely aware of where your shoulders touched, of the familiar scent of his cologne mingling with the spring air. These moments alone with Scott had become both a comfort and a sweet torture—each one adding another crack to the careful walls you'd built around your growing feelings for him.

Scott shifted slightly, and you felt him tense, though not from pain this time. "Jean asked about us the other day," he said carefully, his tone deliberately neutral in that way that meant he was overthinking every word.

Your heart stuttered. "Oh?" You kept your own voice light, though your fingers nervously plucked at the grass beside you. "What about us?"

"She said..." He paused, seeming to wrestle with the words. "She said we have a connection she's never seen me have with anyone else. That even without her telepathy, she can see it."

You forced a laugh, though it came out slightly strained. "Well, shared delinquency does tend to bond people."

"That's not—" Scott started, then stopped. His jaw worked for a moment before he continued, softer, "You know that's not what she meant."

The air felt heavier suddenly, charged with unspoken words. You could feel your pulse in your throat, years of careful friendship teetering on the edge of something more. But the risk of losing what you had, of making things awkward and ruining the easy comfort between you—it seemed too high a price.

"Scott..." you began, not sure how to finish.

He turned toward you slightly, and even through the ruby quartz, you could feel the intensity of his gaze. "Sometimes," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "I wonder if I'm the only one who..." He trailed off, uncertainty evident in the set of his shoulders.

Your breath caught. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? You'd gotten so good at reading him over the years, at interpreting every subtle shift in his expression, but right now you were terrified of misunderstanding.

"You're not," you whispered back, heart hammering. "You're not the only one."

The confession hung in the air between you, delicate as spun glass. Scott's hand found yours in the grass, his fingers trembling slightly as they intertwined with your own. Neither of you moved beyond that simple touch, both afraid of shattering this fragile new thing taking shape between you.

"How long?" he asked softly.

You gave a shaky laugh. "Remember when you helped me practice combat moves last summer? You pinned me down, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. And it wasn't because of the sparring."

A slight flush crept up his neck. "I, uh, may have let that match go on longer than strictly necessary for training purposes."

"Really?" You turned to face him fully now, a smile tugging at your lips. "And here I thought you were just being thorough."

"I've wanted to tell you," he admitted, thumb tracing patterns on your palm. "But you're one of the few people who sees me as just... me. Not Cyclops, not the team leader, just Scott. I couldn't bear to lose that."

"You won't," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "That's not something that could change. Though I might have to start calling you 'just Scott' now, to make sure you remember."

He smiled then, one of those rare, full smiles that made your heart flip. "I think I can live with that."

The baseball game below had ended, the sun starting to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. But neither of you moved to leave your spot under the oak tree, content to sit in this new understanding, hands linked, watching the day fade into evening.

Sometimes the biggest changes came not with grand gestures or dramatic declarations, but with quiet admissions on spring afternoons, with the gentle understanding that what you'd been looking for had been right beside you all along but that was just the beginning of something new.

.

.

.

Your room had become a haven of soft lamplight and quiet laughter as evening settled over the mansion. You sat cross-legged on your bed, Scott beside you, both of you having shed the day's tensions along with your shoes. The small fan in your window hummed, pushing the spring breeze through your room and carrying away any telltale scents.

"I still can't believe you kept that," Scott chuckled, gesturing to the rather embarrassing photo on your cork board—him in his early days at the school, attempting to look serious despite sporting a truly regrettable haircut.

"Are you kidding? It's blackmail gold," you teased, feeling wonderfully light and warm. The evening's shared gummy had left you both in that perfect state of relaxed contentment. "Besides, you were adorable with that bowl cut."

"Adorable isn't exactly the look I was going for," he replied, but his smile was fond. The usual rigid set of his shoulders had melted away, and he'd relaxed back against your headboard, his leg pressed against yours.

"No? What look were you going for exactly? Because I distinctly remember—"

A sharp knock at your door made you both freeze.

"Hey, kid, you got a bottle opener in there?" Logan's gruff voice carried through the wood.

You exchanged panicked looks with Scott, whose face had gone notably pale. "Uh, just a second!" you called out, frantically waving your hands at the wisps of smoke from your incense burner.

"I can come back if you're busy," Logan drawled, a knowing tone in his voice that made your stomach drop. Right. Enhanced senses. Of course he could smell—

"No! No, it's fine, I'll just—" you stumbled off the bed, accidentally kicking Scott in the process, who barely managed to stifle a yelp.

When you opened the door, you kept it deliberately narrow, trying to block the view inside. Logan stood there with his signature raised eyebrow, a six-pack of beer tucked under one arm.

"Bottle opener?" you squeaked.

His nostrils flared slightly, and his lips twitched. "Interesting evening you're having."

"I don't know what you—"

"Summers in there with you?" He didn't wait for an answer, raising his voice slightly. "You know, if someone's having trouble sleeping or dealing with pain, there's this thing called the med bay."

You heard Scott groan from inside the room.

Logan's expression shifted between amusement and exasperation. "Look, I don't care what you two do in your off hours, but maybe try using the bathroom fan next time. Some of us have sensitive noses." He paused, then added with a smirk, "And thin walls."

Your face burned. "I'll, uh, keep that in mind."

"Bottle opener?" he reminded you.

"Right! Yes!" You practically dove for your desk drawer, grabbed the opener, and thrust it at him.

He accepted it with a knowing look. "Have fun, kids. Try to keep it down." He turned to leave, then called over his shoulder, "And Summers? You got training with the junior team at nine tomorrow. Don't be late."

You closed the door and leaned against it, mortified. Behind you, Scott had buried his face in your pillow.

"So," you said after a moment of profound silence, "that happened."

Scott lifted his head, his hair adorably mussed. "Think he'll tell the Professor?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his worried expression. "Pretty sure Logan's the last person to snitch about recreational activities." Moving back to the bed, you settled beside him again. "Though we might want to invest in better ventilation."

"Or," Scott said, reaching for your hand and pulling you closer, "we could just use my room next time. Corner suite. Better air flow."

"Next time?" you asked, trying to ignore how your heart skipped at his casual assumption of future evenings together.

His smile turned slightly sheepish. "Well, I was hoping... since we already came clean about other things today..."

You leaned in closer, feeling bold. "Mr. Summers, are you suggesting we make this a regular thing?"

"The getting caught by Logan part? Definitely not." His hand found your waist. "The rest of it? Yeah, I think I am."

Before you could respond, his com unit chirped. Followed by yours. Then both of your phones.

"GROUP MEETING NOW," read Storm's text. "LOGAN SAYS IT'S URGENT."

You both stared at the messages in horror.

"He wouldn't," Scott said.

Another text came through: "BRING BOTTLE OPENER."

"He would," you groaned.

Scott let his head fall back against the wall with a thunk. "Think it's too late to run away and join the Brotherhood?"

You patted his knee sympathetically. "Look on the bright side—at least we don't have to figure out how to tell everyone we're dating now."

"Is that what we're doing?" he asked softly, tension creeping back into his shoulders. "Dating?"

You took his hand, lacing your fingers through his. "Well, I'm not sharing my premium edibles with just anyone, Summers."

His laugh, warm and genuine, was worth whatever teasing awaited you downstairs. Though you did make a mental note to start keeping backup bottle openers in every room—just in case.The walk to the common room felt like a march to execution, though you weren't sure what was more nerve-wracking—the prospect of facing the team or the way Scott's hand kept brushing against yours, sending little electric shocks up your arm. You were still slightly high, which wasn't helping your anxiety levels.

"We could always say we were studying," you suggested halfheartedly as you approached the door.

Scott snorted. "Right. Because that's totally why my heart rate is through the roof right now."

"You know I can hear you both, right?" Logan's voice carried through the door, followed by several poorly suppressed snickers.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door. The entire team was sprawled across various furniture pieces, trying and failing to look casual. Storm sat perched on the arm of the sofa, hiding a smile behind her hand. Kurt was hanging upside down from the chandelier, his tail swishing with barely contained amusement. Even the Professor was there, though he at least had the grace to maintain his usual serene expression.

"So," Logan drawled from his position leaning against the fireplace, "now that our fearless leader and his... study partner have joined us, we can begin."

Scott's ears were turning red, but he maintained his composure, crossing his arms. "You called an emergency meeting just to—"

"Actually," Storm interrupted, her eyes twinkling, "we've been taking bets on when you two would finally figure it out. Jean's been insufferable about knowing for months."

"WHAT?" you and Scott exclaimed simultaneously.

"Please," Jean smirked from her corner. "You think I needed telepathy to see those pining looks? The sexual tension in the Danger Room was getting ridiculous."

"There was no sexual tension in the—" Scott started.

"Dude," Bobby cut in, "you made us run extra drills every time they wore those new training pants."

Your face felt like it was on fire. Scott's mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out.

"If we could return to the actual purpose of this meeting," the Professor interjected smoothly, though you swore you saw him slip Storm a twenty-dollar bill. "Logan has brought to my attention that we may need to discuss updating some of our... recreational policies."

"Oh god," you mumbled, sinking into the nearest chair. Scott remained standing, looking like he wished his optic blasts could open a hole in the floor to swallow him.

"Specifically," Logan continued, clearly enjoying himself, "the proper ventilation requirements for certain activities." He tossed your bottle opener in the air and caught it. "And maybe a discussion about sharing resources."

"I hate everyone in this room," Scott declared, but he finally sat down—right next to you on the loveseat, his thigh pressed against yours in a way that definitely didn't help your concentration.

"Even me?" you whispered.

His hand found yours between the cushions, hidden from view. "You're on thin ice," he murmured back, but his thumb stroking across your knuckles said otherwise.

"If you two are done having a moment," Logan interrupted, "we've got actual business to discuss. Like how I'm not gonna play delivery man every time someone needs party supplies."

"Wait," Kurt's eyes widened, his tail stopping mid-swish. "Is THAT why Scott's always so relaxed during movie nights?"

"Moving on," the Professor said firmly, but there was definite amusement in his voice. "Perhaps we should discuss the upcoming mission to—"

"Nuh uh," Storm cut in. "We're not changing subjects until they tell us how long this has been going on. I've got money riding on this."

You exchanged a look with Scott, and something in his expression made your heart flutter. Maybe it was the lingering effects of the edible, or maybe it was just that the secret was out anyway, but you felt a surge of boldness.

"Well," you announced, "officially? About six hours. Unofficially..." you squeezed Scott's hand, "probably since that time he tried to teach me to ride his motorcycle and we ended up in the lake."

"HAH!" Bobby jumped up. "That was eight months ago! Pay up, everyone!"

Money started changing hands around the room as Scott turned to you, eyebrows raised above his visor. "The lake incident? Really?"

You shrugged, feeling your face heat up. "You gave me your jacket, and your hair was all wet, and you had this little smile... it was a whole thing."

"If it helps," he said softly, ignoring the chaos of bet-settling around you, "I started falling for you way before that. Remember when you brought me soup during that mission planning session and told me I was being an idiot for skipping meals?"

"That was over a year ago!"

"Yeah, well," he smiled that rare, soft smile that made your insides melt, "apparently I'm slow to catch on."

"Oh my god, they're even worse now," Logan groaned. "I'm gonna need stronger beer."

But you barely heard him, too caught up in the way Scott was looking at you, in the realization that all those moments you'd treasured, all those little interactions you'd overthought—he'd been feeling it too. The team's teasing faded into background noise as Scott's thumb traced patterns on your palm, each touch a quiet promise of more moments to come.

"So," you whispered, "your room next time?"

His answering grin was worth every bit of embarrassment the evening had brought. "It's a date."

"If you two are done making heart eyes at each other," Storm called out, "we actually do have a mission to discuss."

Scott straightened, slipping into leader mode, but his hand stayed firmly entwined with yours. And if the mission briefing took longer than usual because people kept making poorly concealed jokes about "joint operations" and "higher planning"—well, you found you didn't mind so much anymore.

Sometimes the best things in life came with a side of merciless teasing from your found family. And maybe, you thought as Scott's thumb brushed across your knuckles again, that made them even better. 

.

.

.

The mission had left you both battered and exhausted, more emotionally than physically. Your uniform still bore scorch marks from a too-close call, and Scott's jaw hadn't unclenched since you'd boarded the Blackbird for the flight home. The loss of civilians always hit him the hardest, even when there was nothing more any of you could have done.

You found yourself following him to his corner suite without discussion, neither of you wanting to be alone. The sun had long since set, casting the mansion in quiet shadows. His room was exactly as you'd expected—meticulously organized, minimalist, but with small touches that were purely Scott: a worn paperback on the nightstand, a framed photo of the original team, his leather jacket hung carefully by the door.

"Shower's yours if you want it," he offered quietly, already shrugging off his tactical vest.

You shook your head. "You first. I'll raid your dresser for something clean."

He paused, then nodded, disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the silence as you borrowed one of his soft grey t-shirts and a pair of track pants that you had to roll at the waist several times.

When he emerged, hair damp and wearing sleep clothes, some of the mission's tension had eased from his shoulders. He'd switched his visor for his sleeping goggles—the ones you'd helped him modify last winter to be more comfortable.

"Better?" you asked softly.

He crossed to where you sat on the edge of his bed, cupping your face in his hands. "Getting there," he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. "Today was..."

"I know." You pulled him closer, letting him wrap his arms around you, holding on as if to assure himself you were really there. "But we made it. We're here."

His fingers traced the edge of the scorch mark on your borrowed shirt. "When I saw that blast coming toward you—"

"Hey." You caught his hand, bringing it to your lips. "I'm okay. We're okay."

He exhaled shakily, then kissed you with a gentle desperation that made your heart ache. You responded in kind, trying to pour all your understanding and comfort into the contact. When you finally parted, his breathing was unsteady.

"Stay?" he whispered. "Just... stay with me tonight?"

"Always," you promised, shifting to make room as he pulled back the covers.

You settled into his arms, your back against his chest, his heartbeat steady against your spine. His arm draped protectively around your waist, hand splayed across your stomach, thumb tracing idle patterns that made you shiver.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your hair.

You laced your fingers through his. "More than okay." After a moment, you added with a slight smile, "Though Logan's probably going to have opinions about our sleeping arrangements at tomorrow's training session."

His quiet laugh rumbled through your back. "Logan can deal with it." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "I need this. Need you."

The simple honesty in his voice made your breath catch. You turned in his arms to face him, tracing the line of his jaw. "You've got me, Scott. For as long as you want me."

His answer was another kiss, deeper this time, full of unspoken promises and growing heat. Your hands found their way under his shirt, mapping the warm skin of his back as he drew you closer.

The world outside could wait until morning. For now, there was just this—the quiet sanctuary of his room, the comfort of being held, and the knowledge that whatever tomorrow brought, you'd face it together.

.

.

.

The first time you heard it, you were breaking up a disagreement between two students in the hallway. Scott had arrived moments after you, arms crossed, wearing what the kids called his "Dad Face"—stern but concerned, ready to dispense both discipline and guidance.

"Sorry, Mom, sorry, Dad," one of the students had muttered automatically, then frozen, eyes widening in horror at what they'd just said.

You'd maintained your composure until the students scurried away, then dissolved into laughter against Scott's shoulder. "Did we just get parent-zoned by the junior class?"

But it didn't stop there. Somehow, it spread through the school like wildfire.

"Mom! Bobby froze my homework again!" became a common complaint in your classroom.

"Dad's giving the disappointed face in combat training" was whispered in hallways whenever Scott had to correct someone's form.

Now, weeks later, you were grading papers in the library when Scott dropped into the chair beside you, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Three different students asked me if they were grounded today. I wasn't even disciplining them."

You tried to hide your smile. "Well, you were wearing your navy sweater. That's definitely peak dad energy."

"I like this sweater," he protested, then paused. "Wait, is that my cardigan you're wearing?"

"Maybe." You tugged the borrowed garment closer. It still smelled like him. "I'm just leaning into the mom aesthetic. Besides, you never wear it."

"Because someone keeps stealing it." But his mock annoyance was betrayed by the way he reached over to fix the collar, his fingers lingering against your neck.

"Mr. Summers! Ms.—oh gross, they're being cute again," came Jubilee's voice from behind a bookshelf. "I'm telling Logan our parents are making out in the library."

"We're not—" Scott started, but she was already gone, the sound of her laughter echoing down the hall.

You couldn't help chuckling at his flustered expression. "You have to admit, it's kind of sweet they see us that way."

"Sweet wasn't exactly what I was going for when I became a teacher here," he grumbled, but there was a softness in his voice.

"No? The great Cyclops didn't dream of being the world's most responsible dad figure?" You reached up to smooth his perpetually wayward hair. "Because you're kind of nailing it with the whole protective, supportive, slightly nerdy—"

He cut you off with a kiss, one hand cupping your face while the other steadied himself on your chair. You melted into it, papers forgotten, until—

"Ugh, LOGAN! They're doing it again!"

You broke apart to find Kitty's head sticking through a bookshelf, looking thoroughly scandalized.

"That's it," Scott declared, standing and pulling you up with him. "Field trip. Everyone's running laps."

"But Daaaad," Kitty whined, then phased fully through the shelf with a grin. "Does this mean we're getting a little brother or sister?"

You'd never seen Scott turn quite that shade of red before.

"Twenty laps!" he called after her retreating form. "And tell your friends thirty if they make any more comments!"

You tugged him back down into his chair, laughing at his flustered expression. "You know that's just going to encourage them more, right?"

He groaned, letting his head fall onto your shoulder. "How did this become my life?"

"Well," you mused, running your fingers through his hair, "you did decide to date the cool teacher. The one who lets them eat snacks in class and doesn't give pop quizzes."

"The one who enables their sugar highs and constantly undermines my authority, you mean?" But he was smiling now, that soft smile reserved just for you.

"Exactly. Face it, Summers, you're stuck being the strict parent. Someone has to maintain order around here."

He lifted his head to look at you, and something in his expression made your heart skip. "Yeah?" he said softly. "And how long do you plan on being the fun parent?"

The weight of the question hung in the air between you. "Well," you managed, throat suddenly tight with emotion, "I did help you reorganize your closet by color last weekend. I think I'm pretty committed to this co-parenting gig."

His laugh was warm and full of promise as he pulled you closer. "Good. Because I'm pretty sure the kids would stage a revolt if Mom left."

"Just the kids?" you teased.

"Well," he murmured, leaning in, "Dad might have some opinions about it too."

"Oh my god, AGAIN?" came Bobby's voice from somewhere behind you. "Logan! MOM AND DAD ARE—"

"FIFTY LAPS!" Scott shouted, but he was laughing as he said it, and when he kissed you again, neither of you cared who saw.

After all, every family had its quirks. Yours just happened to include superpowers, teenage mutants who called you Mom and Dad, and a perpetually exasperated Logan who kept threatening to send you both to parenting classes.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

.

.

.

You hadn't meant to ruin the rare day off. The local pool had seemed like a perfect escape from the summer heat, and seeing the younger students so excited about a normal afternoon out had been worth all the preparation and permission slips. But now you sat on the edge of your bed, still in your damp swimsuit with Scott's t-shirt hastily pulled over it, trying to pretend your hands weren't shaking.

The knock at your door was gentle. "Hey," Scott's voice carried through. "Can I come in?"

You made a noncommittal sound that he correctly interpreted as yes. He entered, still in his swim trunks and the long-sleeve rashguard he wore to hide his more visible scars. The ruby quartz sunglasses he wore for public outings were pushed up into his damp hair.

"Logan's got the kids back at the mansion," he said softly, sitting beside you. "Storm's making hot chocolate, despite it being about ninety degrees out. Something about comfort requiring chocolate."

"They shouldn't have had to leave early," you mumbled. "They were having fun."

"They were more worried about you." His hand found yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles. "We all were. When those people started saying those things..."

You tried to smile, but it felt wobbly. "Guess they weren't fans of the swimsuitl." You touched your sides self-consciously. "I should have known better."

"Hey." Scott's voice went firm. "Don't. Don't let them make you feel like you did anything wrong."

A soft thud against your window made you both look up. Kitty's face was pressed against the glass, rapidly fogging it up.

"Um," you managed, "did she just climb up three stories?"

Another face appeared beside hers – Kurt's. Then Bobby's head popped up from below.

Scott sighed, but you could see him fighting a smile. "I think we're about to have company."

Sure enough, Kitty phased through the wall, Kurt teleported in with his signature BAMF, and Bobby created an ice slide up to your window before climbing through.

"The others are coming up the normal way," Kitty announced, plopping down on your other side. "Like boring people."

"Because doors are for losers," Scott deadpanned, but his hand squeezed yours when you let out a small laugh.

As if on cue, your door opened again. Jean entered with a tray of Storm's promised hot chocolate, followed by Storm herself, Logan, and what looked like half the student body.

"This is not regulation dormitory capacity," you pointed out weakly as teenagers began filling every available surface in your room.

"Screw regulations," Logan growled, leaning against your dresser. "We're having a family meeting."

"About?" you asked, though the way everyone was looking at you made it pretty obvious.

"About how we're gonna show those jerks that nobody messes with our mom," Jubilee declared from her perch on your desk.

"Language," Scott said automatically, then added, "But she's not wrong."

"We could ice their cars," Bobby suggested.

"Or I could accidentally cause a small rain cloud to follow them around," Storm mused, looking far too innocent as she handed you a mug of cocoa.

"No revenge plots," Scott said firmly, though you noticed he didn't sound entirely convinced. "We're better than that."

"Says the guy who was about to blast their windshield," Logan muttered.

"You what?" you turned to Scott, who had the grace to look slightly sheepish.

"I was... considering it," he admitted. "The way they looked at you, the things they said..." His jaw clenched. "Nobody talks to someone I love like that."

The room went suddenly, suspiciously quiet. You realized it was the first time he'd used that word – love – even though you'd both been dancing around it for months.

"Aww," Kitty sighed, breaking the silence. "Dad's getting sappy."

"Can we focus?" Scott's ears had turned red. "We need to discuss how to handle situations like this in the future, as a team."

"Already handled," Jean spoke up. "I may have... suggested to the pool management that they might want to review their discrimination policies. Telepathically. Very thoroughly."

"And I might have mentioned that my law firm would be very interested in hearing about any future incidents," Ororo added casually.

"Plus, we're totally starting our own pool club here," Jubilee announced. "Better than their stupid public pool anyway. We can do cool mutant stuff without boring people complaining."

"Yeah!" Bobby brightened. "I can make the best water slides!"

"And I can heat the water!" John called from somewhere in the back.

"Absolutely not," Scott said quickly. "No combining powers without supervision, we've talked about this."

You couldn't help but laugh at the familiar chaos, the tightness in your chest finally starting to ease. Looking around your overcrowded room at these people – your family – you felt the day's hurt beginning to fade.

"Thank you," you said softly. "All of you."

Scott's arm slipped around your waist, pulling you closer. "Always," he murmured against your temple. Then, louder, "But everyone out of this room in five minutes. There are actual fire codes we're violating right now."

"Ugh, Dad's back in teacher mode," Kitty groaned, but she was smiling as she started herding younger students toward the door.

As the room slowly emptied, people stopping to hug you or offer final declarations of support, you leaned into Scott's side. "So," you said quietly, "love, huh?"

He turned to face you fully, one hand coming up to trace your [mutation feature] with gentle fingers. "Yeah," he said simply. "Love."

"Even with all this?" you gestured vaguely at yourself.

"Because of all of it," he corrected. "Every part of you. Anyone who can't see how beautiful you are is an idiot."

You kissed him then, pouring all your gratitude and returning love into it, not caring that there were still students in the room.

"Gross," Logan commented from the doorway. "Come on, kids, let's give your parents some privacy. But Summers? Next time someone gives her trouble, you better not stop me from showing them why they call me Wolverine."

"Next time," Scott replied, not looking away from you, "I might help."

As the door closed behind the last of your impromptu support group, you snuggled closer to Scott. "Our family's kind of intense," you observed.

"Yeah," he agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. "But would you have it any other way?"

Looking around your room at the evidence of their visit – scattered cocoa mugs, a few ice crystals from Bobby's entrance, scorch marks on your ceiling from Jubilee's enthusiastic gesturing – you smiled. "Not a chance."

Sometimes the worst moments led to the best reminders of what really mattered. And what mattered was right here – in a too-crowded school full of mutant teenagers who called you Mom, a team that would face down any threat to protect their own, and a man who loved every part of you, even the parts others couldn't understand.

"Hey Scott?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you too."

His smile was brighter than any summer day, and worth every challenge that came with being who you were.

[actual-changeling]

when gabriel/jim (jabriel?? gim?????) talks about his "one particular person", aziraphale's smile is such a blink and you will miss it moment but so incredibly precious and we don't pay enough attention to it.

so, welcome to another round of alex's unhinged meta corner where i over-analyse micro expressions while losing some more braincells.

firstly, here's a clip of that scene just so we are all on the same page since i don't know how much time everyone else spends watching that show. don't ask me it's probably at least 6 hours a day at this point

what i want to focus on is aziraphale's reaction to jabriel's words right after "person". did i slow the clip down and then go through it frame by frame to get the following screencaps? yes. yes i did.

there are two parts to this, the spaced-out smile and then his shock/fear. also before we start can i just say how fucking insane whoever made the trailer was for putting the 1941 dinner scene RIGHT THERE??? with THAT expression??????? yeah. no. i need therapy for that alone.

anyway.

while he is talking, aziraphale is looking at jabriel the entire time, but honestly, i don't think he is actually seeing him, he's neck-deep in his memories of crowley. he as that sparkle in his eyes he tends to get around crowley/looking at crowley and that smile appears rather slowly (or as slow as something can be while lasting less than a second).

personally, i'd call that expression "completely and utterly in love" or besotted if you wanna keep it simple. a content little smile meant for no one except himself, the kinda look he probably wears in private while calling crowley to ask him to come hang out. aziraphale loves him and in this short moment, he knows it - and so do we.

when jabriel (preferable over gim, in my opinion) trails off, aziraphale remembers that hey, wait a minute. that's my boss. that's the archangel fucking gabriel. he can't know about me and crowley.

at this point, neither we nor he know what exactly is up with jabriel, so there is a very real danger that everything aziraphale says or shows will be reported back to heaven. the shock sets in, the smile disappear and aziraphale falls from cloud 9 (pun intended) and lands face first back on earth.

while aziraphale does not have crowley's memory of what exactly went down in heaven when they tried to burn him to a crisp, he has always been incredibly anxious around gabriel and the other archangel. he is fidgeting, unable to stand still or even keep his gaze from flicking around. the only moment he calms is, you guessed it, when he is zoned out and thinking of crowley.

the very real fear that settles on his face is not just about himself, it is mostly about crowley. if heaven knows, hell will, too. everyone knows about the back channels, most just try and keep up plausible deniability. the fact that it is michael who seems to be directly in contact with hell for the most part and not gabriel is worthy of its own post at some point.

another thing worth mentioning is that aziraphale is so afraid, in fact, that he physically backs away from jabriel and gets as much distance between them as possible. jabriel looks like a lost toddler, very non-threatening, but the trauma runs so deep that it does not matter how much of a danger he really is right now. he has been a constant threat for over six thousand years, you cannot deconstruct your view of a person, especially your boss, that quickly. not even if they turn up with total amnesia on your doorstep. naked.

this was less unhinged than some of my other posts but i think this is a moment that gets overlooked a lot. at least i haven't seen anyone talking about it yet since we are all understandably focused on the ending of episode 6.

[fluffy-dixon]

The Seasoned Archer - Part 2

WARNINGS: NSFW! Slight hair pulling, no p in v just suggestive, VERY poorly written smut. Read at your own expense.

I don't know what else to add. This is my first sort of NSFW so sorry if i have missed anything.

NSFW - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Part 1 - you don't have to read for this to make sense

The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the room. Yet, a slight chill still lingered in the air, rousing you from your deep sleep. You weren’t quite ready to be awake yet. As you shifted, you noticed that both your naked selves were covered in goose bumps. Pulling up the duvet cover from the bottom of the bed, you cocooned yourselves, tucking the covers up to your chin. Settling back down into Daryl’s embrace, you let out a content sigh.

He was still sleeping, and you didn’t want to disturb him. After all, he deserved a day off—especially since he’d essentially worked all night… Daryl rarely rested and if it took a whole night of him fucking you senseless, until he was so exhausted he passed out and got some rest, well…that wasn’t exactly a bad thing.

You’d spent the night entangled in each other’s passion, bodies weaving together in the aftermath. The ache within you was a reminder of the multiple times he’d had ploughed into you. Normally Daryl would make love to you, sweetly but there were some nights where you were both so hungry for each other, the intensity overflowed…that was last night.

Multiple times.

And then some.

You couldn’t sleep when you first entered his room, you tried but Daryl had other ideas in mind.

Not that you were complaining. Revisiting the nights events in your head replaced the throbbing in your core with new wetness and a burning desire for Daryl to be deep inside you again.

Turning on your side, pressing your breasts into his back, now hardened nipples poking into his skin, your mouth found the crook of his neck, gently pressing kisses from his shoulder up and along the side to his jaw, gently tracing your tongue as you move, you could still taste a slight salty-ness to his skin from last night’s antics. Your free hand reached for Daryl’s length, stroking softly up to the tip, you could already feel his arousal growing beneath your touch.

Suddenly, the distant sound of someone banging around outside was enough to snap you out of your haven. It was probably Carol or Michone, one of the girls, you all preferred to stay under the same roof, it felt safer and so it wasn’t out of the ordinary to hear movement or noises, there was always one person awake and pottering. The noise subsided and some soft thudding moved down the hallway away from you.

You hadn’t realised that Daryl was awake until his calloused hand, rough from countless battles, cups your cheek, thumb grazing your skin. The scent of sweat, leather, and pine clings to him, a heavy mix that intoxicates your senses. His other hand finds its way into your hair gently tugging at the bottom of your neck, pulling your head back slightly.

His lips meet yours, the kiss, fierce, consuming, as if he’s trying to imprint himself upon you, leaving no room for doubt, His mouth moves against yours, tongue exploring all the contours of your mouth and you couldn’t help but let out a little moan, causing him to buck into you.

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to deepen the kiss. His stubble grazes your skin, igniting sparks of sensation causing you to shiver all over. The taste of him—smoke, salt, and something primal—lingers on your lips. Daryl’s grip tightens around your waist, pulling you onto his lap, now straddling him, you could feel how hard he was between your legs and taking full advantage of that, you teased him, gliding your wet core against his hardness, back and forth, slowly.

“I need you”. He pulls away, breath ragged, eyes searching yours.

You were both distracted by Daryl’s door flying open, slamming against the wall, you were both so caught up in that moment that you hadn’t heard Carol knocking on the door, her footsteps faltered as she pushed open the bedroom door, her knuckles grazing the wooden frame,

“Daryl, are you okay? You never sleep this la….” Looking up from the pile of washing she was carrying.

Daryl, his usually stoic face now a mask of disbelief, sat up abruptly throwing you off of his lap, pulling the sheets around him as if they could shield him from the sudden intrusion. You swiftly moved behind Daryl, wide-eyed bedsheet clutched to your chest and your cheeks flushed crimson.

Carol’s own face mirrored the hue of a ripe tomato. She stammered an apology, her voice barely audible. “I—I’m so sorry,” she managed, her eyes darting between the two figures frozen in their vulnerability. “I didn’t mean to—”

But the words hung in the air. The room seemed to shrink around you both in complete embarrassment, mortified and stuck like rabbits in the headlights, unable to move - hoping this whole situation wasn’t real.

But Carol? Face no longer like a ripe tomato was now beaming when she realised that it was you Daryl was in bed with, her grin stretching from ear to ear,

“Congratulations Pookie!” she blurted out, her voice too loud for the small room. “So, the rumours were true! I’m so happy for you both!” She clapped her hands together, the sound echoing off the walls. “This is wonderful!”

Daryl’s shock remained etched on his face. He blinked at Carol, rendered momentarily speechless. Wrapped in the bedsheet, you managed a feeble smile—a blend of embarrassment and amusement—but words eluded you.

“Sorry,” Carol stammered, her realization dawning. “I’ll, uh, leave you two alone.” She retreated from the room, closing the door more delicately this time. Yet, before disappearing completely, she popped her head back around the door, her grin still wide.

“So that’s what all the banging has been at night—makes sense…” Carol began, but her sentence was abruptly cut short. Daryl, swift and mortified, snatched up a pillow and hurled it in her direction, the door slamming shut behind her.

In the aftermath, Daryl groaned, collapsing back onto the bed in disbelief. You, still sitting there, felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Contemplating escape through the window or how you’d ever face Carol again.

-

This is my first every teeny bit of NSFW/SMUT.

Please be nice, I'm just dipping my toes in.

If you have requests for some smut, please tell me <3

[kazuyakun]

Romance Headcanons | Sakuragi Hanamichi

Pairing: Sakuragi Hanamichi x Reader. What its like to date Sakuragi and how he is as a lover.

-Sakuragi is extremely passionate about things.

-His dedication to you can be seen from afar. He's always willing to just be in your personal space, wanting to be around you and do things for you

-I can see him as being a sort of cliche romantic gentleman despite his tough looks, ex. He's always holding your hand, he walks on the outside of the sidewalk, he vows to protect your honor

-He's extremely generous and wants to enjoy life with you.

-Since basketball has become a great love of his, he'd be happy to share it with you. He'd boast about him and his 'genius skills' in order to impress you and he may go a bit overboard with his importance but it's all genuine

-He'd love it if you came to his games, and he'd probably combust if you wore his jersey to support him. Ryota definitely takes a photo of Sakuragi being love struck and sends it to you

-He loudly proclaims that he does his very best with you watching him and that you just add to his genius.

-He sees his partner in a very high light. So they too are a genius just for dating him, a genius.

-It'd be important to him for you to be close to his friends and his team because they're his family

-You're likely to be around Yohei and the Gang a lot. So they act as your entourage sometimes. One of his friends is always around so they can get juicy details on your relationship.

-But they always mean well

-He wants to be perfect for his partner. So he always asks people for advice on how to be a better boyfriend, how to keep surprising you and to keep you happy.

-He's got date advice from everyone on the team. Ayako always manages to help him plan out something thoughtful and Ryota and Mitsui always bicker on who's date sounds better

-But really, just Sakuragi taking you somewhere like a grocery store, he'd make it extremely special because he just loves you that much. He'd buy anything you wanted, and he'd share his favorite snack with you

-If Ryota has a girlfriend, then he likes to double date. But the two of them always end up showing off on who loves their partner more.

-Sakuragi can be impulsive and a bit overbearing with his love so you'd have to tell him if he's doing too much because he'd be unaware

-He's extremely affectionate. He loves to give out physical touch. He loves to scoop you into his arms like you weigh nothing to him, sprinkle kisses all over your face and tell you how proud he is of you for literally doing anything and just being perfect in his eyes

-He gives you gifts that are based off your hobbies. If you're into collecting, he buys you stuff to help contribute.

-Sakuragi is also very loyal. You'd never have to worry about him looking or being tempted by anyone else. You're on his mind all hours of the day.

-He's protective as well. He worries about you because he's a delinquent (reformed, but he's always about that life fr) so he doesn't want anyone messing with you. He's insistent that you tell him if anyone's bothering you so that you can handle it

-Head pats and hair ruffles

-He likes to be snuggled and he loves when you run your hands over his hair

-I have to do it to em, I'm sorry. "This one's for you, y/n-chan!" and completely misses!

-Sakuragi is... an enthusiastic texter. He likes to send a ton of emojis and memes

-He prefers calling you, but he prefers facetiming you even more.

-He likes to be 'discreet' and take photos of you while facetiming so he can save them and keep them as his background.

Falling asleep together on facetime counts as a date for him.

-He feels if you love him, then he's won the game of life. He doesn't want to hear what anyone says because he'll loudly and proudly say that you love him exactly how he is.

-He says I love You multiple times a day. But it never gets old because it's from his heart.

[its-time-to-write]

Thank you so much for the response to my request <3. the fic was better then I could have hoped!!!!

I have a new request (but feel free to focus on the story themes you were wanting to do!), I have been really wanting to see a Jamie fic where he takes care of sick reader. Could be period or illness (no preference) and Jamie has no idea how to help but tries his best. I think its a cute idea

Can't wait to read more of your fics!

Thank you so much for requesting!! Literally love when people ask me to write things. Also, apparently everyone loves a sickfic because my other one has the most notes of everything I’ve written. Anyway, here’s your fic!

there’s orange juice in the kitchen

You are not sure of much, but you know one thing: you’re in pain. It’s 2am, and you’ve gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep. You’ve given up on laying in your bed and have filled up your bath with hot water, bubbles, and bath salts. Lots of bath salts. Your abdomen feels like it’s shredding itself and you suppose, technically speaking, it is. You’re just relieved that tomorrow is the weekend and you don’t have to slog through a work day, white-knuckling these absolutely ripping period cramps. 

You don’t have regular periods like, ever, and your doctor’s concerned about your fertility. You remember waving it off with the statement, “That’s a problem for another day.” Thing is, that was just a cop-out. You didn’t want to think about it for a single second because then it would become real, and you make it a personal point never to complain about a period no matter how brutal it is because at least it’s something and never mind that your last one was four months ago, you’re ok. You have a good life and good people and you’re fine. 

It’s just the principle, you know? The desire of choice. 

The hormones don’t help either. 

But anyway, you’re in your tiny bath trying to soothe the pain you’re in, trying to make yourself tired enough to fall asleep once you get out. You breathe, in, out. In, out. 

You’re up till 6am when you finally doze off. 

—

You wake up in a sweaty haze. You’re in soft pants and a large t-shirt, on top of your sheets rather than in them. You reach for your phone then pull your legs in with a sharp gasp. You’re still in pain. 

It subsides so you reach again and check the time. 9:01. You groan. Three hours of dubious sleep is not enough. You have a missed text from Sam (remind me which brand of kitchenware you use?) two missed texts from Keeley (look at this absolutely adorable puppy! Attached: 1 Image), and a missed call from Jamie. 

Ah, right. Jamie. 

Your boyfriend. 

Who you were supposed to meet for breakfast exactly sixteen minutes ago. 

Shit. 

You call him back and he answers on the first ring. 

“Hey love!” he says. “You alright? Not like you to miss breakfast.”

You grimace. “I uh, I wasn’t feeling well last night and I haven’t slept very good. I forgot to text you. Didn’t fall asleep until 6.”

“A.M.?” Jamie asks and you reply to the affirmative. He lets out a long “shiiit,” followed by a, “how contagious are you?”

“For you? Not very,” you say. “For another girl, incredibly contagious, although some say that’s an old wive’s tale.”

Jamie is silent in confusion, then- “Ohh, I get it! You’re not sick-sick, you’re on your fucking period.”

You chuckle, despite remaining curled up on your side. 

“Yes,” you reply, “My fucking period. I feel nauseous and tired and I am bleeding so. Much. It’s like my body’s making up for the last four months of nothing.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment and you internally cringe, kicking yourself for over sharing. You haven’t been together that long, about a month and a half, and he doesn’t need to know that about you. He’s a famous footballer, after all, and a guy’s guy. Probably gets grossed out about periods and stuff. 

Then he says, “Can I come over? I’ll bring food,” and your worries almost completely evaporate. 

“As long as you don’t care about how disgusting I am or the fact that I hurt a lot, sure,” you say. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

—

Jamie’s at your flat in 40 minutes, which is fast considering how much food he walks in with. He’s brought a bag of Chinese takeout, plus two overflowing grocery bags. 

“This is for now, these are for later,” he explains. He’s in a pink sweatshirt with matching shorts and socks, and maybe it’s the damned hormones again but he looks hot. His hair is pushed back with a headband and you want him to fuck you. You don’t think you can convince him, though, what with the blood. And the fact that he’s Jamie fucking Tartt. And that he probably doesn’t do shit like that because it’s gross. 

Your brain whispers, but he’s here, isn’t he? so you just push that thought down to live with other scary ones like, I will never have kids, or I’m going to live with this pain for the rest of my life.

Jamie is oblivious to this, just pulling everything out of the bags and chattering on. He’s kicked off his trainers near the door, and he hasn’t made any comments about the fact that you’ve wrapped a blanket around your shoulders like a shroud, or that your hair is in the messiest bun in the history of the world. Not the sexy, reader-insert fan fiction type of messy bun, either. Just an I-did-not-get-anywhere-NEAR-enough-sleep-last-night messy bun. 

“-and me mum always drank orange juice, swore it helped with bloating or hydration or somethin’, I don’t really know, but I got some of that too and this tea that’s supposed to help with cramps, and also a shit-ton of chocolate because I didn’t know which kind was your favorite. I was thinking we can sit on the couch and watch a movie or play Animal Crossing or some shit while eating the takeout, then I can cook you a proper fucking meal later. Coach always says it’s important to have a balanced meal when you’re under the weather, and I think it applies to this too.” He stops when he notices you just looking at him. “You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just- why did you get all this?” you blurt out. 

For the first time since you’ve known him, Jamie looks unsure of himself. “I dunno. I mean, I do know. You didn’t sound great over the phone, and Keeley’s always telling me to fucking listen to other people, and me mum was always the same on her period so I used to get her the things she wanted all the time. And-” he takes a breath, “and I picked up on what you said. The fuckin’ four-months shit. That ain’t good babe. Even I know that. And, we haven’t been together that long, but I’m pretty fucking sure you know that too, and I wanted to let you know I’m sorry.”

You’re momentarily fixed on the way he says certain words. Keeleh. Sorreh. It’s sweet, for some reason, and it causes a dull ache in your chest. You realize what he’s actually said to you and that ache deepens. You’d kiss him if you weren’t sure your breath was gross. 

So instead, you settle for nodding and staring at your kitchen wall. That’s because option one is kissing and option two is crying. You can’t do either right now.

A traitor tear slips out your eye anyway, and you hope Jamie won’t see it. He does. 

“Hey, hey.” He comes around the counter and pulls you into a hug, blanket shroud, messy bun, and all. “Love. It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re not alone, and we’re going to go sit on the couch and eat as much food as we can and then pass out, alright? We’re not going to think about anything else except what’s right in fuckin’ front of us.”

“That was,” you sniff, “weirdly philosophical. And very sweet. And I’m sorry for being disgusting.”

Jamie pulls away from you, and you think this is the first time he’s realized how gross you are. 

“Don’t say that shit, babe,” he says, and you laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. 

“I’m serious,” he continues. “You might feel disgusting, but you aren’t. You smell like fucking lavender, for Christ’s sake. Your pajamas are clean, and so’s your hair. Might be fuckin’ messy right now, but me mum also taught me to braid, so it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

You pull him back against you and let some more tears come out. 

“Why are you being so nice,” you ask, voice muffled through his sweatshirt. 

“Oh, dunno,” he replies, hint of a smile in his voice, “Think you’re fit. I like shower sex. You pick.” He pauses. “Maybe both. Heard that it can help with cramps.”

You laugh wetly into his chest. He’s warm and comforting, and so completely not what you expected him to be. You both stand in the kitchen for another minute, his cheek resting on your head before he says, “Oi, you hungry?”

“God, yes,” you say, “I could eat a fucking horse.”

“Good.” Jamie picks up the bulging bag of takeout and a roll of paper towels. “Lead the way, babe.”

—

It’s not until much later, after you’ve eaten, watched a movie, and showered (and all that implies) that you realize you’re finally tired. Finally calm. You let yourself relax on your bed in Jamie’s arms, breathing in his clean smell. In, out. In, out. By the third breath, you’re asleep. 

[prettyboykatsuki]

Hey, I've been trying to make butter chicken for a really long time and no matter what I do the food cart in my city makes it better. I was wondering if you have a recipe that you would like to share since you said you're really good at making butter chicken. Totally okay if you want to keep it private or just not respond to this ask. Also, I love your writing. Long time fan.

HI!!

i was supposed to answer this last night but i took my melatonin super early and fell asleep on accident. i do have a recipe to share and i saw a few people were interested. im not very good with writing down like... formal recipes i cook by heart so to speak so i hope thats alright

but also thank u!! i see u in my notifs a lot so i was happy to see your ask

FANGS BUTTER CHICKEN RECIPE:

a couple of things to know prior, making a really good curry usually takes a long time. im not one to be super picky on authenticity but if you're wanting to eat something super delicious it will take you upwards of an hour ++ some, start to finish.

ingredients for chicken

chicken breast / chicken thighs (i normally use a little less than two pounds of chicken thighs, boneless and cubed)

yogurt for marinade, about a half to three quarters cup

a tablespoon of premade ginger-garlic paste or equal parts of fresh ginger and garlic

about two teaspoons of garam masala, and one teaspoon of cumin, coriander, chili powder, tumeric and salt

FOR THE CHICKEN: it's up to preference what cut of meat you want to use for butter chicken, but i personally used cubed chicken thighs that i manually clean the fat off of.

in my opinion, the biggest difference this will make is in the marinading process. if you are using chicken breast, i would recommend marinating for up to twenty four hours. if you're using chicken thighs, you can get away with less time. but you need to marinade your chicken up to at 30 minutes.

mix everything together and set aside until ready.

ingredients for the sauce:

one large onion, medium diced (about a cup and a half)

half a head or garlic, finely chopped (i use a lot but you can use less)

some freshly chopped ginger or a tablespoon of garlic-ginger paste. about a tablepoon.

tomatoes (roughly two cups)

for the tomatoes, there are various substitutions you're welcome to make. most restaurants used crushed, canned tomatoes but if you're wanting the smooth texture without blending - used jarred tomato sauce as your base.

with whatever type of tomato you use, you will have to adjust for acidity and sweetness. i use a mix of fresh tomatos and tomato paste for depth and adjust for acid with sugar.

if you are using jarred tomato sauce or canned tomatos, you will need about a cup and 3 quarters or 14ozs of liquid over all.

if you are using a fresh tomato and paste combo like me - i recommend about a cup and a half of diced tomatoes and a 3 tablespoons of tomato paste.

spices including, 2 teaspoons of garam masala, 2 teaspoons of cumin, 1 teaspoon of coriander, chili powder to taste and a table spoon of pre-packaged butter chicken spice mix.

you will also need kasoor methi powder or fenugreek powder which imo is not optional

NO MORE than a half-teaspoon of fenugreek

salt to taste

sugar to taste (i use about a tablespoon)

for seasoning: while i use the teaspoon measurement here - it's more important you understand the ratios. im much more heavy handed with my spice mixture because i make it according to my own tastes and i like strong flavors.

i used pre-packaged spice mixes to add flavor but if i dont have it i wont use it and use about a teaspoon more each of the plain spices.

the one thing you shouldn't skip imo is the kasoor methi aka fenugreek powder. this is probably the thing most people are missing butter chicken at home. it's savory and mildly bitter, a bit like fennel and its what gives it a very classic indian flavor

3/4 cup of cream + 1/2 cup of milk (you are welcome to use one cup of cream if you like a thicker gravy, but i prefer a thinner one. you can also replace the milk with half and half)

a little oil to coat the bottom of my pan (a teaspoon or two)

3 tablespoons of ghee (or 2 tbps of butter + 1 tbsp oil)

cilantro to taste (optional)

if you can find ghee or make it at home, i would highly reccomend using it over butter and oil. ghee makes a huge difference to the flavor profile.

while i say 3tbsps, i would say be heavy handed and use enough to cover the pan. this is a fat heavy dish as is.

ONTO THE COOKING PROCESS:

first: you will want to grill / char your chicken. you can pick what method you use for this. i use a searing hot pan (i use a dutch oven for this entire recipe) and little oil to get the best cook.

fry the chicken on high heat until charred and take it off once all sides are cooked. DO NOT OVERCROWD YOUR PAN. it will released too much water.

set aside the charred pieces. the chicken will finish cooking in the sauce.

NEXT, THE SAUCE

after you've cooked off the chicken, turn your heat down to medium, drop your ghee and your onions and cook until totally soft

this will take roughly 15 minutes of stirring and watching.

once the onions are translucent and halved in size, drop in your garlic and ginger

cook until fragrant. i like to go a little under ten minutes

add in your spices here (EXCEPT THE KASOORI METHI). this step is crucial

the key to good desi curry is understanding the process of bhuna, which is essentially frying your spices together for optimum flavor. you will want enough oil in your pan to fry / cook the seasoning which is why i say you might want to be heavy handed.

stir your spice mix with your onions, garlic and ginger - making sure it doesn't stick and burn in the process. let it cook until very fragant.

i let it go for a few minutes but if you don't cook often, a minute or less will be okay. too long and the spices will burn.

(i also like to add a pre-emptive amount of salt at this stage but you can salt afterwards)

next, add your tomatoes. if you are using tomato paste, add it before you add your other tomatoes and let it fry for about a minute to soften and cook down the taste

if you are are using jarred sauce or canned tomatoes feel free to toss it all in at once.

THIS IS IMPORTANT BUT LET THE LIQUID COOK OFF YOUR TOMATOES AS MUCH AS YOU CAN

i would recommend up to twenty minutes if possible, being careful it doesn't burn on the sides. the sauce will change color as a result, turning a deep brown / red and that's when you know it's ready. the pan should feel almost dry.

if you like a blended sauce - now is the time for you to take out from the pan and blend with a little water *

i do not like a completely blended sauce, so i will instead use the back of my spoon to crush up my tomato and onion mixture as much as possible once cooked soft enough.

THIS IS NOT TRADITIONAL OR COMMON. but i prefer a bit of texture in my sauce and once soft enough i find the sauce still turns out silky smooth.

after you sauce is blended / smooth, add in your cream mixture, your sugar, and fenugreek powder, and cook your chicken for another few minutes

usually a little under 10 minutes for thighs and around 8 minutes for breasts if you're picky about timing.

turn your heat off and wait for the curry to stop boiling before adding in chopped cilantro

AND YOU'RE DONE YIPEEEEEE. serve with white basmati rice or naan/paratha of course 🫡

OTHER GENERAL TIPS:

the seasonings i list are intentionally light handed but i honestly use about double of everything above, so if you find that the taste is too light for you after cooking - fry more seasoning in oil in a separate pan and add it afterwards.

depending on your preference, you might like a thicker or thinner gravy. if you prefer it thinner, add more liquid (preferably water or milk) and if you prefer it thicker, feel free to just use one or the other.

be careful during the spice frying process and watch like a hawk if you dont anywhere else, because the burning will make it bitter.

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME ASKS IF YOU WANT TO TROUBLE SHOOT!!!