#so like me being short is an ally move

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Muzzled

FatWS!Bucky x Reader | Smut🔞

Face riding as therapy? Bucky thinks it's a wonderful idea.

Part two of Barrier, set way later in the timeline.

You and Bucky probably had the weirdest relationship of anyone you knew. Over the decades you had been together you had been separated by war accidents, evil organizations and helful allies, only to find a different version of Bucky each time your paths crossed once more.

Now, the most recent time of seeing Bucky again almost gave you whiplash as a wave of nostalgia hit you.

His hair was cut and styled short and he sported a gorgeous new arm. He didn't look like the tortured soul that came and took you to Romania but resembled his old boyish self once more.

He was Sergeant Barnes again.

Bucky still hesitated to touch you, his mind telling him he needed to make sure you hadn't stopped feeling for him romantically before he'd make a fool of himself.

Once he stepped into your apartment, though, that fear left him entirely.

On the wall sat a vintage Captain America propaganda poster that Steve himself signed. Next to it a small toy shield signed by Sam. A huge bookcase ran along the remainder of the wall and wherever he looked he saw memories.

Far off in the corner of his eye he spotted a familiar teddybear, now worn and clearly loved.

But what really caught his eye was all the different items of his she had scattered throughout the cabinet.

Books about the Howling Commandos, a small portrait picture he knew she had kept on her person during the war and even a little action figure of him and Steve stood ready for battle beside and old group photo.

Even--

..even his Winter Soldier mask sat proudly in a square along with a HYDRA file labeled with his name, and that small red book.

"Why did you keep this?" His voice was soft, his eyes focused on the items that represented his worst side, displayed so proudly in the open.

"Well, it shows I love all versions of you, even the one everyone else disliked." The way you said it so casually caught him off guard.

"But if you don't like having it here I can always put it in my nightstand.." You liked how that made a blush creep up his face. "I know you liked it last time you wore it around me."

You let out a full blown laugh at Bucky clearly remembering the events you mentioned. He picked up the item and turned it in his hand, inspecting all the intricate details on it.

Part of him was excited you loved the assassin and didn't cast him away or tried to pretend he didn't exsist, but part of him also felt extremely uncomfortable being around items that reminded him of a part of him he had tried to forget.

"If you put it on I'll sit on your face." You passed the ex-assassin with a wink as you stepped towards the hall connecting the livingroom to your bedroom, keeping him in your view as he stood, frozen and almost dropping the mask in shock.

By the time you reached the bedroom door he still hadn't moved. "Oh, Sergeant?"

"Y.. yes, peach." He quickly slipped past you into the room and sat down on the edge, mask still in hand.

Standing in front of him you toed off your shoes, crossing your arms as your eyes glanced at the mask for a second, signaling you were waiting.

You watched trembling hands lift the item to his face, his eyes focused on it as fear glinted in the blues.

"Hey, look at me." Your voice was soft and got his attention immediately. His eyes quickly lost the fear and clouded with something more primal as he took in your form only clad in simple but tasteful underwear.

A simple "Okay" was all he muttered before the mask went back up to his face and he secured it in place. "Happy now?" His hands moved to take it off again but you moved swiftly to stop him.

"Oh no, baby. I think you misunderstood." You placed his hands on your hips and yours on his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed.

"I said," Crawling over him you sat yourself down on his chest. "Put on the mask and I'll sit on your face. Don't you want me to sit on your face, Bucky?"

God, you loved how expressive his eyes were. They told you everything you needed to know when his mouth couldn't cooperate with his brain. But you needed him to talk before you moved on, making sure he was still here with you.

"Buck, talk to me please. I need to know that you're okay with this." Your hand came up to rest against his temple and he nodded. "I'm okay. Still breathing."

You took his words in happily, smiling down at him and moving his hands again, motioning for him to take off your remaining clothes.

With you completely bare, Bucky's hands found your ass and kneaded the soft flesh making him hum in pleasure. "So soft.."

With each squeeze you maneuvered yourself further up his body until your core was hovering above his head. Bucky's was breathing hard in anticipation, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your clit to distract himself from the eery feeling of the mask over his face.

"Relax, Buck. Tap out when it becomes too much. Do whatever you want with your hands in the meantime." Your fingers found his hair and gently combed through it as you lowered yourself onto the mask. Your slick already coating the hard material from Bucky's touches.

On your first roll of your hips you felt Bucky's hands twitch beside you, laying against the bed. As you continued to gently move you took his hands and put them on you. One on your chest and one on the plush of your thigh.

"Feels good, Buck.." You sighed as he rolled a nipple between his vibranium fingers and kept pawing at your thigh and ass. He hummed beneath you, inhaling deep to take in your scent through the mask. Your arousal was starting to seep through the slits down the front, the holes making perfect bumps and valleys to pleasure yourself on. Bucky moaned at your scent invading his senses, your slick dtipping down from the slits. Beneath the mask he had his tongue out, lapping at the inside to drink up everything he could get to.

The groan he let out at your taste went straight trough you and you felt the hand on your ass leave you. The sound of him fumbling with his pants caught your ears and it only spurred you on, rutting against the mask with renewed energy. Your tired legs finding new strength to continue riding Bucky's face.

You felt his arm move beside you, peeking back to see him taking his cock in hand and jerking himself off as he squirmed under you. "Taste so good.."

As he jerked himself off to the taste of you, your hips kept rolling. The slits in the mask being perfect ridges for your clit to catch on and help you closer to the edge.

"Hah.. Buck, feels good.." You moaned as he toyed with your nipple, your hand on his vibranium wrist squeezing the metal. Your other hand still rested in his hair, tugging on the short strands with each ridge that caught on your folds. "Getting close.."

While you used Bucky's mask as a saddle, he stroked his cock and played with your tits. Moans and sighs filled the room as you both neared your end. Bucky wordlessly placed his hand on your hip, holding you down as you tugged at his hair, gripping the strands hard as your orgasm washed over you. With a few slow rolls of your hips you came down just as Bucky groaned into the mask, panting as he finished all over his hand and shirt.

With a lazy smile you laid down next to him. "So, how are you feeling about it now?" Next to you Bucky unclipped the mask and turned it in his hands.

"Yeah," he huffed, his smile widening as his gaze turned to you. "I think I can start liking this thing."

Bucky was sure you were still eyeing him, pulling the outside of the mask back to his lips and licking a broad stripe right over the middle, his eyes still focused on you in the process. Only when he noticed you squirming and rubbing your thighs together he stopped and tossed the mask aside.

"Now, are you gonna let your soldier fuck you properly?"

[krys4h]

ꪆৎ cw ʚ bestfriend!kaiser, girly!reader + weightlifter!, smut, size kink, spitting, choking, rough sex◞ ྀི

“You're really strong.”

Sitting on your best friend's back, Kaiser was doing push-ups with disconcerting ease.

“You doubted me?” his lips curved into his signature smirk.

You rolled your eyes. Arrogant asshole.

“Of course not.”

You had been going to the gym with Kaiser for months now. Your wardrobe had to accommodate all your new gym outfits, it was now overflowing with light pink shorts and cycling shorts, comfortable and girly clothes for your new passion : weight lifting. Kaiser found it cute to see you pink from head to toe, even your water bottle.

It was only recently that you motivated yourself to go to the gym and adopted healthy habits. Kaiser was a valuable ally in your new goal because he knew a lot about this subject.

“Keep your back straight,” he ordered, his hand on your lower back when you were doing squats.

He corrected you during all your exercises like a coach, he was uncompromising and didn’t let you make any mistakes. While you were doing exercises, he watched you attentively, making sure your posture was perfect. He really acted like a coach.

“I’m so energetic today, I feel I could do a two-hour session,” you said enthusiastically.

Kaiser chuckled, finding you cute.

“Careful, you’re gonna exhaust yourself,” he sat on a bench, looking at you doing your squats. 

“You always work out until you’re exhausted, why can’t I do the same,” you tilted your head, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“It’s a bodybuilding method. Work until failure so you don’t stagnate in your results. Something for real athletes and not beginners like you.”

“In my head, you’re just a masochist,” you rolled your eyes and stopped doing your squats. It was a warm-up for the real workout. You walked to the upper body machine area, and stopped at the shoulder press machine. You selected the weight you wanted to lift and got into position. Kaiser was working out on a machine, leaving you alone since you were on a machine, you didn’t need help with your posture. Before you started your exercise, a man approached you.

“You’re gonna have a muscle contracture if you leave your arms that straight, pretty.”

You observed the man who approached you, he was tall and attractive. Heat rushed into your cheeks when he called you “pretty”, and you nodded, correcting your posture. It was Kaiser’s role usually, but you didn’t mind being helped by handsome men.

You continued your workout quietly. The man stayed with you from time to time and chatted with you. His company didn’t bother you, and you spoke to him enthusiastically in return. You were happy to make new friends.

At the end of your workout, you exchanged numbers. That’s when Kaiser came back to you. He frowned when he saw the man next to you, and automatically moved closer to you.

“Who is he?” he asked, watching the man leave the gym.

“A new friend I made.”

“Friend? You exchanged numbers.” his frown deepened as the conversation continued. He didn’t like what was happening at all.

“Yeah, to keep in touch, dummy.”

You were oblivious to his budding jealousy. Kaiser liked you for a long time, but he was waiting for the right moment to talk about his feelings so as not to ruin your friendship. He wasn’t sure if his feelings were reciprocated, so he was careful not to make a mistake.

Kaiser was unusually silent on the way back to your apartment. You were sharing an apartment, so there was bound to be a time when you would have to unravel the mystery of his bad mood.

Arriving at your apartment, you slumped down on the couch. Your apartment had been decorated by you, there were plants everywhere, making the interior warm and lively. There were pictures of you and Kaiser on the walls, pictures that dated back to when you were teenagers. You looked at the pictures on the wall with a nostalgic smile.

“Hey, remember my birthday when I was 17? You ate all the cake, you got sick,” you chuckled but you stopped when you noticed that Kaiser remained silent, leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on the ground.

He wore black gym shorts, and a baggy black t-shirt that despite its width, revealed massive, bulging muscles through the fabric. With his height and his dark expression, he looked intimidating.

“Are you okay? You’ve been sulky since the gym,” you asked, your tone cautious.

You got up from the couch and walked over to him. You cupped his face with your hands, lifting it to make him look at you.

“What’s the problem, baby?”

“You.” he looked away.

"Me?" you narrowed your eyes.

“Yeah, you.”

A silence settled in in which you stared at him but he looked elsewhere, avoiding your gaze, his jaw clenched. His heart was racing, because he wanted to say it. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, and it killed him to see you give your attention to other men. That he wanted all of you just for himself. That he loved everything about you, including your annoying side. That you were his dream girl since forever.

And the best way to tell you this is to show it physically, that’s why he wrapped his arms around your waist and crushed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened with shock as you let him kiss you. He put all his frustration from earlier into that kiss, pressing his lips with force. You didn’t understand what was happening, but you weren’t against it. 

“You’ve always been mine, why are you trying to escape me now,” he muttered against your lips, nibbling on your lower lip.

“Escape? I didn’t try to escape you…”

“You did. Just an hour ago,” the edge of his tongue traced your mouth, and you parted your lips, waiting for him to kiss you for real. 

“It was just a friend, Micha.”

“Fuck him,” he captured your lips into a kiss, your tongues tangling together. “Nobody has the right to have you except me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, his arms under your ass to lift you. He carried you while kissing you to the sofa before placing you on it.

“Let me show you what it's like to be mine, you'll never want another man again,” he undid the elastic of his shorts.

That’s how you found yourself laying on the couch, your hand covering your moans as Kaiser pounded into you. He had his hand on your throat, choking you as his hips rocked into you with force and aggressiveness. 

“Who has the right to see you like this? Who has the right to touch like this, mhm ?” he panted out, his eyes drinking in your appearance, his eyes hungry for you. 

You struggled to answer him because your breathing was ragged. You placed your hands on his abdomen, trying to push him away, wanting him to slow down. 

“Tell me *thrust* who has *thrust* the right *thrust* to fuck you like this?”

His hand around your throat squeezed even more, as obscene noises were drawn out of him. His panting intensified with each deep stroke, and it was as if he was killing your insides every time he buried himself in you. 

“Y-You,” you whined, your tight heat aching because of his size. 

“That’s what I thought,” he smirked and he slammed his hips against yours again with even more force, his frantic pace making you lose your mind. 

“I can’t take it, Micha, I can’t take it !” Your eyes watered as you pushed him with all your strength, trying to get away from him. He was so big, every time he was plunging in, the stretch was so intense that your breathing stopped and you felt so full that you could explode. 

“Stop running away from that dick, baby. It’s yours,” he released your throat, and placed his hands under your knees. He pushed your legs until your knees were next to your head. The new angle made everything deeper, his cock slamming against your g-spot every time he thrusted into you. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head as your legs trembled. You were a mess, moaning and whining, your eyes full of tears. The dick was too good, and he was so big it hurt.

“Micha, it hurts…”

“I know,” one of his hands released your leg, and went between the two of you to rub your clit with his fingers. He slowed down his thrusts, and kept rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves with his index and middle fingers. 

The stretch became less painful, but it felt even better when Kaiser pushed out of you, and spat on your abused cunt. He spread the string of saliva between your folds, and when he shoved himself into you again, it was no longer painful. He bent over to kiss your forehead.

“Look at you, taking it like a big girl,” he whispered in a low voice, his eyes full of love, a contrast with the brutality of his thrusts. 

The sound of your sweaty bodies colliding enveloped the room and the wet squelching of your pussy coating his dick could be heard. 

“Look at us,” he gazed at where your bodies connected, every time he pushed out, you could see the milky white ring of your arousal, and every time he pushed in your hole greedily sucked him in.

“I made a mess,” you panted, feeling the wet couch under your ass. 

“It’s okay. Let’s make a mess all night, love.”

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

[dreamdragonkadia]

I am truly a very sleepy lady lately, so this happened p.jackson x reader

The third yawn escaped you without much fight, a new personal record in such a short span. Three yawns in the last couple of minutes? Incredible. You groaned dramatically, slumping against Percy’s bed while he glanced up from where he was organizing his cabin. He let out a small chuckle.

"Is it time for bed yet? I am the sleepiest girl," you sang, your voice lilting with faux dramatics as you pulled one of Percy’s pillows closer, flopping onto it like a ragdoll. The familiar scent of saltwater and something undeniably Percy clung to the fabric, and it only made you want to bury yourself deeper. You were so tired—dangerously tired—that the corners of your eyes prickled with unshed tears as yet another yawn overtook you.

“Sleepiest girl, huh?” Percy teased, his voice carrying that easygoing humor that made him who he was. He leaned against the bedpost, arms crossed and the faintest smile pulling at his lips. “Are you sure you’re not just being dramatic?”

You cracked one eye open to glare at him, though it lacked any real heat. “Dramatic? Me? Never.” Your voice was muffled by the pillow, which you were now using to shield yourself from the cruelty of his accusation.

Percy crouched down to your level, his sea-green eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re practically the patron saint of drama. You’ve been yawning for, like, five minutes straight. It’s not that late.”

“I’m chronically tired,” you argued, though your words were barely coherent through yet another yawn. “Being awake is exhausting.”

“Right,” he replied with an exaggerated nod, leaning closer until he was practically in your face. “Clearly, heroic quests and late-night harpy chases have nothing on whatever you’ve been up to today.”

“Exactly,” you mumbled, pushing his face away with one hand while clutching the pillow tighter with the other. “You get me, Jackson. A true ally.”

His laugh was quiet but filled with affection as he moved back to sit cross-legged on the floor beside you. “Do you want me to just let you sleep here, or should I carry you to your bunk?”

“Neither. This is my life now,” you declared dramatically, curling up with his pillow like it was the only thing tethering you to this mortal plane. “I live on this floor, next to this bed, and no one can stop me.”

Percy shook his head, a lopsided grin on his face. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re half-asleep.”

“Always cute,” you shot back, though it came out more like a sleepy mumble. Your eyelids were already drooping as you heard him shuffle around, grabbing a blanket to drape over you, and the soft press of his lips to your forehead had your lips curling into a sleepy smile.

“Goodnight, Sleepiest Girl,” he murmured softly, and for a split second, you almost thought you heard him add, “Sweet dreams.”

But you were already too far gone to be sure.

[enhaflixer]

pjs - Signed, Sealed & Undone. - TEASER

A TIME TRAVEL CONTRACT MARRIAGE FIC - PART 1 NOW OUT

Synopsis: Fake marriage proposals are a tired billionaire trope.

But when Jay Park—former golden boy of Park Industries, now chaebol exile—comes back from disgrace (and back in time), he’s got one goal: rewrite the past before it destroys him.

When you, an unassuming journalist with nothing to lose, get an offer of a lifetime, you’re sure it’s a mistake.

A contract, a relocation to Seoul, and one fake wedding later, you’re still trying to convince yourself none of this is real. The only problem? Neither of you seem to remember where the performance ends and something devastatingly real begins.

Release Date: Part 1 - Saturday, 8th March, Part 2 - Monday 10th March

WC: 24K (in two parts) CW (18+ MDNI) : fake marriage, slow-burn romance, power dynamics, corporate intrigue, arranged marriage trope, emotional angst, unresolved sexual tension, longing glances across boardrooms, contract loopholes, financial manipulation, morally gray billionaire!Jay, forced proximity, family expectations, betrayal, public displays of affection (for the cameras, obviously), enemies-to-allies-to-lovers, suppressed feelings, business politics, one bed trope (but make it corporate), dramatic confessions, late-night whiskey-fueled arguments, high society drama, backhanded compliments as flirting, dramatic departures followed by even more dramatic returns, lingering touches that mean too much, feelings clause not included in the contract, deep intimacy, power dynamics in a romantic context, possessive tendencies (but soft), light dominance/submission themes, clothing being undone at a painfully slow pace, tension so thick it could shatter glass, breathless dialogue, interrupted kisses that lead to frustration, and the inevitable realization that this was never fake at all.

-

The restaurant is the kind of place that feels expensive without trying too hard—muted lighting, soft instrumental music, waiters who appear at the exact moment they’re needed and disappear just as seamlessly.

The man across from you looks just as effortless. Perfectly tailored charcoal suit, a watch that probably costs more than your entire yearly rent, and the kind of composed expression that belongs to someone used to negotiations worth billions.

Except this isn’t a business deal. Not a normal one, anyway.

You place your fork down carefully. Your appetite? Completely gone.

“Say that again,” you say, voice deceptively calm.

Jay Park doesn’t blink. Doesn’t even look remotely fazed. He just meets your gaze, cool and steady.

“I’m proposing a contract marriage,” he repeats. “Two years. No romance, no physical obligations—just a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“You want me to pretend to be your wife.”

“Yes.”

He sips his wine like he just asked you to pass the salt, not to legally bind yourself to him.

You let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Right. And I’m supposed to just… what? Pack my bags, move to Seoul, and play billionaire housewife for two years?”

“Essentially,” he agrees.

You stare at him. Waiting for the joke. Waiting for any sign that this is some kind of elaborate setup.

Jay just waits. Calm, patient.

“Why me?” you demand finally. “You could have literally anyone. Supermodels. Heiresses. Actresses who’d sell their souls for a contract like this. Why me?”

His fingers drum lightly against the stem of his glass. “Because you don’t belong in my world.”

“And that’s… a good thing?”

“It makes you the safest choice.”

Something in his voice shifts—not softer, not exactly, but more deliberate. Like he’s revealing something he hasn’t admitted out loud before.

“You have no business ties. No family connections. No ulterior motives,” he continues. “You see me as a person, not a position.”

There’s a weight behind his words, something you can’t quite place.

And maybe it’s that—or maybe it’s the way he looks at you then, measured but expectant—that makes you lean back and let out another stunned laugh.

“So basically,” you say, still trying to process, “I’m the only woman who wouldn’t try to seduce you.”

Jay’s expression doesn’t change. But something flickers in his eyes. Something unreadable.

“You tell me,” he says smoothly.

And just like that, your heartbeat does something inconvenient in your chest.

You clear your throat. “Okay. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, I don’t immediately run out of here. What exactly do I get out of this?”

Jay sets his glass down. “Financial security. A settlement large enough to erase any concerns about money. Complete independence once the contract ends. And two years of experiencing a world few ever get to see.”

A world full of billionaires and ruthless business tycoons. A world where every move is calculated and loyalty is currency.

A world you have no place in.

You exhale sharply. “And if I say no?”

Jay tilts his head, considering. Then, for the first time since this conversation started, he smiles.

Not his polished corporate smile. Not the carefully practiced, media-friendly expression you’ve seen in articles about Park Industries.

No—this smile is something else entirely.

“Then you finish your drink, walk out of here, and spend the rest of your life wondering what if.”

Your breath catches.

Oh, hell.

You might actually be considering this.

-

Taglist: @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @somuchdard @ijustwannareadstuff20 @annybah @zzhengyu @naurwayyyyy @ddolleri @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee

[mywritersmind]

I hope your requests are open. I had this idea of Lando dating either a singer or dancer. Mostly inspired how he said in a video that he would like to be a singer for 24h. Basically Lando surprises the reader on tour on a location of your choosing. The fans are freaking out about him being there, because they haven’t made it official to their fans and after the show they make it public. Maybe by a post where he is backstage with her being fluffy or something. It’s purely an idea so if you don’t like it then feel free to ignore it.

ROCKSTAR BOYFRIEND - LN4

listen up : kissing! cuteness! some smau! thanks for request!! i love lando x singer for some reason and even tho this is short, it’s adorbs!

word count : 1098

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I squeal as I jump into my boyfriend's arms, he spins me around while my head is buried in his neck, “I missed you!” Once my feet are back on the ground, I look at him. Taking every bit of him in, the face I have memorized. I look into my favorite eyes in the world, and smile.

“I missed you too.” He tugs at my waist a bit and kisses me softly. “I’m excited for tonight.”

“Great to see you too, Y/n.” Max fewtrells tone makes me laugh instantly. He’s staring at us like we’ve commuted some crime.

“Hi Max. I’m happy you could come!” I lean into my boyfriend, noticing the camera around his neck.

He nods, “I’m worried how much you like Lan but, you’re good so.” I laugh as he gets distracted by my manager walking by with food.

Because he’s gone, I drag Lando to my dressing room where he immediately falls onto the couch, smiling widely. “Look at you, all famous and talented.”

“Right!” I tease, “You have no idea what it’s like!” I walk closer and Lando’s hands slide up the back of my legs, staring up at me.

He stops them right before the hem of my skirt. “You look good. Not fair that I have to share you with the thousands of people out there.” He refers to my current packed venue just as the opener starts another song.

He tugs me a bit closer so I move down slowly until I'm straddling him, his hands now on my ass as he smirks at me. Lando has this look that he does, like everytime he sees me he just has to be as close as possible to me.

I rest my hands on his neck and kiss him. He mumbles, “I really missed you.” He tugs me closer and kisses me harder.

I laugh into him, “I do have to go out eventually so don’t get too excited…” He groans when I say it and moves his lips to my neck, “Lando…”

“Don’t all rockstars do this?” He eyes me as I laugh, his lips meeting mine again as there’s a knock at the door.

Lando and I end up backstage with my crew while my guitarist strums on his guitar and my manager Ally goes over tonight as if I haven’t done it a million times.

I’m sitting on Lando’s lap, a bit more PG this time, with his hand on my hip as I listen to Ally talk.

She’s pacing before she turns and sigh at us, “You two are adorable.” It catches me off guard a bit because she’s always been the one saying we shouldn’t be public because of our careers.

It makes me happy that she supports us, even if she does think he’s bad press.

She’s pulled away as I get a five minute stage call. “You’re going to be amazing and i’ll be front row!” Lando grins, pushing my hair back behind my ear.

I laugh, “Lan, you’re in a box.” I’ve sat him and Max in VIP for my friends and family with Gracie Abrams and Finneas so that should be interesting.

“I’m seriously so proud of you.” His smile is so contagious, “You’re so talented and amazing and beautiful and perfect.” I want to cry at his words. But there’s no time because my stage manager hands me my microphone and points at his wrist.

I kiss him one last time before he leaves to find Max and go to their seats. Before I can step closer to the stage though, I get stopped by Ally.

Her face is stern, “I need to talk to you after the show, about Lando.”

I frown, immediately, scared of what she has to say. But her face goes soft, “I think you’re right, you should go public. You’re sickeningly in love and if that’s what you want…” I wrap my arms around her so tightly that she has to pry me off.

“I love you!” I scream so loud that even the crowd can hear me.

“Yeah yeah, say it with a raise.” she finally cracks a smile and squeezes my arm, “Go kill it out there.”

⋆༺

I’m sweating by the time the show is over. I can still hear the crowd screaming when I walk off the stage, the same grin I started with, still plastered on my face.

I scream when I see Lando. I could see him watching me the whole performance and I’ve never been so happy.

“Hey, you did insane!” Max is first to talk as Lando hugs me again.

I let out a breathy laugh as Lando kisses my cheek, “Thank you, Max!”

“Lando is so lucky to have someone so cool because it really evens out his weirdness.” Lando eyes Max who pulls up his hands in defense and wanders away.

Lando kisses me again, “You did… I can’t even explain it! You fit so well on stage and I was singing every lyric!”

I raise a brow, “You know every lyric?”

He nods enthusiastically, “Me and everyone in my garage! I play nothing else before a race.” I shake my head, running my hands through his curls, “But you seem extra happy… is it because i’m here?”

I roll my eyes even though he’s right, “I have some news.”

His jaw drops when I tell him we’re going public. He doesn’t even consult his PR people before posting the pictures.

⋆༺

LANDONORRIS

liked by yourusername and 823,644 others…

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↳ yourusername : keep that up and i’ll dump you.

↳ landonorris : yes ma’am🫡

oscarpiastri : Finally you can talk to someone else about her. Y/n, you’re great and all but I know far to much about you.

↳ landonorris : shhh your ears are blessed

yourusername : my idiot 💗🫶🏻

↳ landonorris : my love 😍🧡

↳ carlosainz : WHIPPED

↳ alexalbon : WHIPPED

↳ maxverstappen : WHIPPED

↳ georgerussell : am I the only one who thinks this is cute?

↳ lewishamilton : George.

↳ georgerusell : WHIPPED

↳ francocolapinto : WHIPPED🫵

[sonofcelluloid]

Sonofcelluloid’s Top 30(ish) Favorite Devil’s Minion Fics:

In no particular order, this list only includes finished works that are relatively canon compliant (I’ll be making separate lists for AUs and fics in progress.) Anything in italics is a direct quote from the fic or its description. Please remember to check tags and ratings before reading.

You’ll Always Be My Favorite Ghost by lestatslestits: Tales of Armand’s turbo autism as Daniel gets to know and love him. This one is so sweet and had me laughing my ass off.

outcast of all this night by gaypiratedivorce: Modern Devil’s Minion fic of all time. Rewired my brain. "I mean, I don't know how you guys did it in Renaissance Italy, but most people this century get to at least second base before wearing each other's blood around our necks." There’s a part 2: my aid against the boredom of the eternal where they finally hook up. And honestly every fic from this author is a banger.

I’d Break the Back of Love for You by kurow: 70s Armandaniel. A rescue and a sick fic wrapped in one, and I’m a sucker for both.

Like That by GrayGiantess: Fluffy 70s Armandaniel. A tooth achingly sweet first kiss fic, featuring Twinkie’s. Again, every fic from this author is a banger.

The Beginning is the End is the Beginning by trinityofone: Daniel sees a wild vision during his turning. “I deserve this,” Armand said. His hold on Daniel’s throat was almost a caress. “After what I’ve been through, I deserve something of my own, don’t I?”

make a home from a rented house by sleepdeprivedsurgeon: Daniel realizes Armand has never really had a room of his own before. Armand slowly builds his own safe place. Super fluffy autistic Armand stuff. Domestic vampire polycule bonus.

the spiral is unspooling by reedroad: Armand helps Daniel recover their Devil’s Minion years via old video tapes they filmed of their meetings. Absolutely heart wrenching and wonderful and charming and had some of the most jaw dropping plot twists I’ve ever experienced in a DM fic. The last chapter absolutely floored me and rewired my brain forever. May be my #1 fav.

forever’s gonna start tonight by trinityofone: Hate fucking with a happy ending:) Sort of a soulmate fic as well. “I fucking hate you. And you hate me. So something is making us do this.” “I don’t hate you,” Armand pants. “You mean nothing to me. Don't stop.”

care and keeping by katplanet: A surprisingly tender guide for how to step on your boyfriend. Bonus Danlou. Smutty and fluffy and freakayyy. GREAT dialogue. Very funny as well.

hell is: by cannibalenthusiast: Another turning fic. Post Dubai blowout, Armand and Daniel bond over martinis, breakups, and a Survivor marathon. They bang about it. Great ending.

5 Times Daniel Molloy Imagined Killing Marius de Romanus (+1 Time He Actually Did It) by platoapproved: This one is genuinely a masterpiece. Probably my #2 fav. Lots of protective Daniel, some really cool and original vampire-lore stuff, Louis and Lestat being beautifully supportive along with other new side characters. Armand finally gets to process his abuse among allies. A really touching Lestat subplot as well. HEAVY trigger warnings for all Marius related assaults, but obviously we get to watch him die horribly to make up for it:) Absolute banger of an ending, totally sticks the landing.

lesson three: parasitic infections by kanxie: 70s Armandaniel. Armand picks out Alice as a third and does NOT like the way the night progresses. What unfolds is some of the CRAZIEST psychosexual (emphasis on psycho) gremlin Armand shit I’ve ever seen in a fic. So perfectly Armand. Short and sweet, sad ending.

open up your skull, i’ll be there by Anonymous: First time fic. Armand dipped after Daniel’s turning and when he shows up again Daniel ain’t letting him leave. “Your blood is my blood,” Daniel says, and Armand does not flinch. “It’s your blood getting me hard. Your blood that’s pumping through me.” Armand licks his lips, and still doesn’t move. “Please. Armand, Armand, please.” “Beg for it.” “I am begging for it, this is what begging looks like —”

Disintegration by lilacaisle: Daniel goes crazy when Armand locks him in the apartment and tries to burn himself with a cigarette so it will feel like being bitten🙈 Armand does BDSM about it. This one’s actually book Armandaniel but I didn’t notice it until like the third read because it fits show Armandaniel so perfectly.

baby, cry baby by Babeblox: Daniel seeks out Lestat for an interview after Louis’ attack, but he’s being haunted by someone else. Canon divergence. This one legit made me cry. Dark but very sweet. Wild ending.

get in my mind (do you see my heart?) by Marenke: 70s Armandaniel, Armand character study. Armand is pretty sure he and Daniel have never had a problem a little brainwashing couldn’t fix. SICK AND TWISTEDDDDD (affectionate).

The Importance of Being Armand by Siria: Daniel and Armand talk about the power of naming. "If you can imagine a different set of possibilities for me as a vampire, ever think of what you could come up with for yourself, if you put your mind to it?"

Bumpin' That (Bumpin' That Bumpin' That Bumpin' That) by TheAngelsAreWatching: Daniel and Lestat are fuck buddies. They are on a tour bus a la Word Tour. They do coke. They try to bang. And then Armand stops time and walks in. Armandaniel fuck crazy style. Pure filth (affectionate).

Run, Arun! by TheNightColors: Autistic Armand, character study. Daniel learns it was considered a “crime” to turn Armand due to his “mental retardation”. Armand explains what it was like to be an autistic child in the sixteenth century, and an autistic adult for 500 years after. Heavy stuff. Trigger warning for all things relating to Amadeo’s past and for the internalized ableism instilled in Armand by his upbringing.

a haunting just for company by valkyrisms: Post Dubai blowout but pre Daniel’s turning, Armand crashes on Daniel’s couch. A modern Devil’s Minion fic for the ages. These weirdos love each other so bad. Some really memorable tender scenes. This one’s a fan favorite. “You’re fond of me.” “You’re a nuisance.”

The Company of Monsters by ruiqi: A full deconstruction of Marius’ abuse from Armand’s pov as he struggles to keep old patterns from repeating with Daniel. Overall I think this is the most realistic depiction of what it would be like for Armand to come to terms with his abuse in the modern day, especially regarding Daniel’s involvement. He’s totally out of his depth but wants so badly to help. This one made me SOB. It’s honestly a really tough read, but beautifully done. “You said, last night, that he wanted an angel,” says Daniel, “but no one's an angel, Armand. That wasn't fair to you. Besides, who would want an angel when they could have you?” “No,” Armand says. “No, you can’t say that.” “You can’t fucking stop me,” says Daniel. And it isn’t tagged, but this one is incredible autistic Armand representation. Probably my #3 fav.

Smart Boy by heliza24: Just a really good 70s Devil’s Minion era explanation of the events leading up to Armand’s decision to take Daniel’s memories away. Quite a bit of infidelity stuff in this one. Also delves a lot into Daniel’s family history, and an emotional affair is established between them long before they actually hook up. Very emotional. Heartbreaking last chapter.

We Dared Eternity and Won by faerywhimsy: A 70s Devil’s Minion era telling of the four good years they had before everything imploded. Louis has somewhat of a distant obsession with Daniel in this and so is very involved in Armand’s decisions regarding him. Favorite scene is when Armand saves Daniel from a hotel fire and the near loss devastates him because it makes him realize he’s in love with Daniel.

reprise. by SheOfBadIdeas: In Dubai, Daniel demands Armand show him the memories he stole. Armand relays the tale of their romance, but Daniel is begrudged to give Armand the satisfaction of giving in to it. That doesn’t last long;)

Waiting by bandedbulbussnarfblat: 70s fic. Daniel is living with Alice and hasn’t seen Armand in two months. He gets a call from Armand, who just got a proposal from Marius asking him to be his companion again. “I told him I couldn't go back. That I was waiting for you.” Daniel sucks in a sharp breath. Fuck. Armand's voice sounds almost wet, strained and raspy. He finally sounds as vulnerable as Daniel always wanted to see him be. “Should I keep waiting for you, Daniel?” (It’s just banger after banger with this author too.)

The Monster of my Memories by GrayGiantess: In Dubai, Daniel has just remembered his relationship with Armand and he’s PISSED. Armand gladly reminds him he’s waited 40 years for Daniel, he doesn’t mind waiting a little while more, and he’s not so sure Daniel has the same conviction🙈 Phenomenal subby old man Daniel material.

Delicate Machinery by Lilac Tinsel: An in depth look at the 70s love affair that neither man ever saw coming, in all its complicated glory. Really dives into the psychological consequences of Armand’s constant rejections. Amazing take on what the actual memory alteration would look like. The part that broke me: “I’m sorry for– for all of it. I didn’t realize how much I took. I just… wanted to stop thinking for a moment.” Armand blinks slowly and his eyebrows knit together. His voice is small but steady. “Did you take the drugs so you wouldn’t feel me anymore?”

You Taste Like Suburbia by CannibalGender: This is the only unfinished work I’m putting on this list because it’s so fucking good as is and gave me chills when I read it. It’s the 80s, Armand, famously normal about his partners' families, haunts the Molloys. I absolutely love Alice in this. Paints such an intriguing picture of what these years might have looked like from an “outside” pov.

Two parter I’ll chew you up and I’ll spit you out and Oh dear diary, I met a boy by weathermood: Loumandaniel in Dubai, set just after the season 1 finale. Asks, what if Daniel doesn’t want to remember? An exploration of identity while Louis and Armand try to persuade Daniel to allow his memories of their past relationship to be restored. Explores dreams and memories beautifully and with delightful humor. Classic unhinged Armand.

138 lbs, for the metrically challenged by hummingbeeoOo: Fluffy and funny. After Daniel’s turning and subsequent hunting down of his maker, they’re shacked up and happier than ever, but a little something from the interview has kept nagging at Daniel. Or: there is exactly zero way a beanpole like Armand weighed a measly 62.5 kilograms a day in his adult life. The end of this fic had me kicking my feet and giggling. This whole series is great tbh.

This list is my pride and joy. Thank you to the anon who asked for recs<3 Feel free to share your own favorites in the reblogs:)

[wordsmeetwbb]

Every Loser Needs an Azzi

Word count: 1.3k

Content: fluff, angst (it’s just hurt/comfort okay)

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: Short little fluff piece for you on this fine UConn vs South Carolina game eve. If UConn loses in a dramatic fashion tomorrow (which I'm hoping they won't), at least we still have fluffy fanfiction!

________

Paige had played like shit. Worse than it, actually. Sure, everybody had bad games. Paige knows that. But this had been downright embarrassing. She slumps onto a bench in the visitor’s locker room, avoiding the pitying looks from her teammates. Azzi, KK, and Jana had already gone to do media, so no one left in the locker room was brave enough to approach her. Good.

Her mind runs wild as she goes through the motions of showering, changing, and heading out to the bus that’s already waiting outside. She’s moving slowly, too caught up in her thoughts. By the time Paige gets on the bus, trying to ignore the disappointed stares from fans, Azzi is already in a seat, headphones on, looking out the window. Paige plops down in the seat across the aisle, avoiding the look she can feel Azzi giving her. She doesn’t want to see the disappointment coming from her too.

“Paige,” Azzi says. Her voice is soft but somehow still carries the few feet to Paige’s ears, even through the raucous noise of the mostly full bus. Paige slouches further into her seat and pretends not to hear. “Paige,” Azzi tries again, voice more insistent now. Paige can’t help it. She glances up.

Azzi’s staring at her, eyebrows raised but with no judgment on her face. No pity, no disappointment. She pouts a little. “You’re not really gonna make me sit by myself, are you? After a loss?” She complains. Her tone is light but Paige is immediately hit by guilt. A loss that she caused. Paige looks away from the brunette, staring out the window at the fans for only a moment before she can’t bear it, and looks straight ahead at the back of the seat in front of her.

“Paige.” Silence. Paige presses herself into the wall of the bus, pulls her headphones over her ears, tugs her hood up, and tries to hide from Azzi. She’s not proud of it, but she doesn’t want to face reality on this bus.

A body slides into the seat next to her. The scent of vanilla perfume and lavender soap washes over Paige, soothing her just slightly. “You don’t have to talk to me, but you can’t hide from me either,” Azzi says softly, too quiet for the rest of the team in the seats around them to hear. Paige nods, just once, and swallows hard. Azzi gets comfortable in the seat next to her. She’s being careful not to touch Paige, to give her space. All the places where Azzi’s body would usually be pressed into Paige’s are notably cold, but Paige is grateful for the separation.

The bus starts moving. Paige turns her music up as her teammates continue to chatter around her, seemingly unphased by the pathetic loss they had just been handed. She stares out the window and watches fields rush by. Five hours later the sun has set and Paige is finally back in her apartment. Jana and Allie are mercifully quiet, so she escapes to her room quickly, dropping her bag by the door and heading straight for her closet, desperate to just put her pajamas on and go to sleep.

She’s just crawled into bed when there’s a knock at her door. She knows it’s Azzi without asking. She hesitates. Azzi doesn’t open the door, just knocks again.

“Paige? Can I come in?” She calls, voice muffled by the wood between them. Paige wants to say no. Wants to pull the covers over her head and pretend she’s already asleep so she doesn’t have to face her girlfriend. She doesn’t do that though.

“Yeah,” she croaks, voice rough from yelling during the game and not speaking for hours after it. Azzi opens the door slowly, looks at the way Paige is curled up on the bed, and immediately folds the blonde into her arms.

“It’s okay, baby,” Azzi soothes, one hand rubbing up and down Paige’s back as Paige breathes shaky breaths into her neck. A tear slips down Paige’s face, the droplet tracing a hot, wet line down her cheek. She’s thankful Azzi can’t see it.

“One point,” she whispers into Azzi’s skin. “One point, three rebounds, two assists, and five turnovers.” Azzi doesn’t shush her this time, just lets her get the words out. “Five fucking turnovers, Az. Do you know how many points they scored off of my turnovers? Nine. Nine fucking points, and I only scored one to make up for it. I couldn’t get anybody the fucking ball, couldn’t get it through the hoop, couldn’t even keep it in my goddamn hands. I’m supposed to be the best in the nation and look at me. Fucking pathetic.” The words quickly devolve into sobs, tears falling onto Azzi’s shoulder, soaking the fabric of her shirt. Azzi just holds Paige.

At some point, Azzi moves them to lay down, once Paige’s tears have calmed down enough that she isn’t gasping for air. Paige is still wrapped in Azzi’s arms, and she knows that one of them must be falling asleep, prickling painfully where it’s trapped under Paige’s body, but she can’t quite get herself to move.

“That was a bad game,” Azzi says finally. Paige lets out a surprised, wet laugh.

“Gee, thanks for pointing that out, Az. I didn’t notice that I cost us the fucking game until just now when you said that,” she says sarcastically. Paige can hear Azzi’s tentative smile when she replies.

“You cost us the game and you’re still the best player in the nation.” Paige wants to cry again. She turns herself all the way around in Azzi’s embrace so they’re facing each other, scans Azzi’s face, and then lets herself smile a little bit. Not a big smile. Not a particularly happy one. But a small, fragile thing.

“I guess we’ll see when ESPN puts out the next mock draft, right?” She jokes. Relief breaks over Azzi’s face. She reaches a hand up, the one that’s not trapped under Paige’s body, and brushes away the remnants of Paige’s tears.

“It’s okay to have bad games, Paige,” she says gently. “Being Paige Bueckers doesn’t exempt you from that.” Paige swallows around the lump in her throat.

“I know. It's just… knowing that I’m going to have shitty games doesn’t make having one any easier. All those people that come to see us play, see me play- hell, you see those signs, Az! People driving across the fucking country to watch and I just disappointed all of them. They didn’t come to watch that disaster.” Azzi grasps Paige’s face gently but firmly and tilts her so that she has to meet her eyes.

“Honey, you don’t owe anybody a damn thing. Every single person in that arena chose to be there, regardless of how you performed. And yeah, there’s probably somebody who walked out of there feeling disappointed. Who fucking cares? You don’t know them, Paige. They don’t know you. Bad games don’t define your career, and they certainly don’t define you as a person,” Azzi soothes. Paige brings her arms around Azzi and hangs on for dear life.

“How are you so fucking emotionally wise? Who taught you this?” She groans. Azzi laughs.

“I read books and talk about my feelings, Paige. It’s not my fault you can’t read,” she teases. Paige grips Azzi a little harder.

“I can read. Just don’t like it,” she mumbles. Azzi presses a kiss into Paige’s hair.

“Sure, honey. Whatever you say. As long as we can go to sleep now,” Azzi yawns. Paige’s heart stutters as she looks at Azzi.

“Yeah. We can go to sleep now,” she agrees.

As Azzi is drifting off, Paige hugs her tighter. “Thank you,” she whispers. Azzi mumbles something that might be a reply, and although she had just played the worst game of her college career, Paige had never felt more like she had won.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi mx witch, I’ve been debating whether to send this in for a bit but I am curious what you think. I’ve been going back and forth on the ongoing “can you read at least one singular book by a Black woman” discussion bc there is a thing where especially white readers (I am also white, non american but also somewhere with significant Black diaspora) hold up Black authors as somehow being the pinnacle of diversity and ending the conversation there. I don’t think you are doing this btw but this is the reading comprehension site. I just worry it doesn’t prompt people to think about more general issues of diversity in publishing when E/SE/S Asian authors also get screwed over in the industry (especially Asian women who don’t want to write about being Oppressed by their Traditional Culture) and there are just shamefully few published Indigenous authors from any continent.

HOWEVER. then I see some of the more tar pit responses to your book posts and to the rap discourse (oh my god the rap discourse) and I am like. hmmm maybe we should stay focussed on prompting people to challenge their anti-blackness for a bit when so many people are clearly incapable of the baby step of reading more widely. Much to consider.

📚

ps if you post this and anyone reads it and goes “oh wow this is so right, I guess I don’t need to read books by Black women”: no

pps SORRY for spam if this is a second anon, I asked this morning with dodgy signal and have no idea if it went through or if you are just swamped/don’t want to reply. no pressure.

hi anon,

I think it's a really good and thoughtful question, and I appreciate the good faith engagement with this question a lot! your concern reminds me a lot of something Yaa Gyasi (an author who's come up a lot in discussion about Black women writers!) said in this interview a few years ago:

Representation isn’t enough. It’s not enough to see people as representatives, and not actually engage with what they’re trying to say. I guess I’ve been feeling dispirited about the way that my work gets read, as it allows people to pat themselves on the back and feel like they’ve done something. Is literature enough? That’s frankly the question I’ve been asking this past year. I used to be the kind of person who would say this is making us more empathetic. But I’m not sure anymore if that’s what’s happening. Are you reading, or are you reading? 

and I definitely agree with her, and think that a lot of people have a tendency to reduce authors who aren't white, heterosexual men to tokens whose work they're morally obligated to read to be Good Allies, rather than because the work genuinely speaks to them, entertains them, moves them, challenges them, or does anything else that literature is capable of. it doesn't help that the publishing industry itself has an awful tendency of tokenzing authors, as you alluded to.

this is one of the reasons why I never include spaces pertaining to an author's personal identity on the reading bingo sheets that I design. I know that prompts like "read a book by a Native author" or "read a book by a trans author" and so on are quite popular in many book bingo spaces, but to me they run the risk of tokenizing those authors and make it seem as if it's fine if, for instance, no Native or trans authors are found anywhere else on the sheet, since they have a designated space. which isn't a perfect solution, to be sure - without a specific prompt, it's just as likely that there will be zero authors who are Native or trans or whatever other marginalized identity one can come up with on the bingo sheet. I'll be honest: as much as I love seeing the bingo sheets my followers are filling out, I'm a little stunned and disheartened to see how starkly white many of them are!

in this conversation, where people are being challenged to name even a single author who's a Black woman and coming up short, I think many people, especially hobby readers, are maybe realizing for the first time that they way they read doesn't quite live up to the ideas of equity that they personally hold and they're interested in changing that now. I've received a lot of feedback that does boil down to people excitedly reporting that they're now deliberately rushing to the library to seek out books by Black woman, and I can easily see how, pessimistically, that could be seen as further tokenizing those authors.

as much as I've rolled my eyes at the people who loudly insist that they couldn't possibly know what gender, race, ethnicity, etc, any author is because they only care about the story (with the implication being that knowing anything about the author would somehow cheapen the story - lmao), I do somewhat understand where they're coming from. while colorblindness is certainly not the solution, it would be ideal if nobody had to think much about hitting any kind of quota in regards to their reading habits. and I'm certainly not advocating for anything that strictly structured! but if so many people can't name a single Black woman who's written a book, then we need to acknowledge that there's a reason for that, and that not all authors are being read equally, and that it takes an active effort to course correct something like that.

my hope is that, with time, readers broadening their horizons enough that they don't have to actively seek out Black women authors (or Black authors in general, or Asian authors, or Latine authors, or trans or Muslim or disabled or Jewish authors, or authors translated into English, and so on) because those authors and their works will become a natural part of their literary diet that no single author is a sole representative of any group or perspective and can be appreciated solely on the basis of their craft.

but maybe the first baby step, as you said, has to be googling "Black woman authors." and maybe that's a little tokenizing! but when we're beginning from the rock bottom position of people struggling to name a single Black woman author at all, you have to start somewhere. I'm really glad to see people actually getting excited to do the work, and I hope they don't stop at reading one (1) book by Yaa Gyasi or Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie because a tumblr post made them feel uncomfortable.

I hope that makes sense and is a satisfying answer!

[lulunothulu]

“Kiss me in the rain”

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: You’ve always wanted to be kissed in the rain, Tyler happens to help with that.

Content: FLUFF

It’d been a long two days.

It’d been raining the past two days and you were half sick of it. Mainly because you missed Tyler. You sat at the window, looking out and up at the rain that fell.

Tyler was out chasing a storm a few hours away and you couldn’t help but wish he were here. You could use his warm arms around you right about now.

On the TV, The Notebook plays and it’s about to get to the part where Allie and Noah kiss. You sigh, you really wished Tyler were home.

Glancing back outside, you can’t help but smile when you see Tyler’s truck finally pull up. From where you sit, you see he’s wearing a white shirt and his white cowboy hat.

God you missed him.

You’re outside within seconds, rain slapping and drenching you a few steps into running toward him.

Tyler smiles at you from his truck before hopping out and catching you when you jump in his arms.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, setting you down. “Let’s get inside, I don’t want you to get sick.”

You shake your head. “Can you kiss me here?”

Tyler looks up and then back at you, confusion riddling his face. “In the rain?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip.

“Were you watching The Notebook?” He asks, a knowing smile creeping up his face.

You laugh, “Well, yeah…”

Tyler only smiles, squeezing you closer to his body, the heat from his body warming you. One of his hands rakes up your back and tangles in your hair.

“I wrote to you,” he smiles, reciting one of the lines in the movie.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you laugh.

Those are the words he needed to crash his lips to yours, rain falling on and around you both like a cocoon, encapsulating you both in this moment.

Your lips move in rhythm with Tyler’s, searching and devouring like you both haven’t eaten in years and you were finally getting a crumb of food. Your body was singing, heart swelling at the way Tyler deepens the kiss by pulling your face and waist in tighter, closer to him.

You fist his shirt in your left hand, clinging to him when his hands move lower and lift you into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, smiling into the kiss.

Everything around you slows, rain clinging to your matching shorts and tank top. Your hair is drenched but you don’t care. You’re being held—and kissed—by the man of your dreams. Nothing and no one would ever be able to top this feeling bubbling in your chest.

He pulls away a bit to smile up at you. “I love you so much.”

You lean down, kissing him again before pulling away. “I love you more.”

“Was that everything you dreamed of?” He asks.

“It was and more.”

Something small and cute for you all on this Friday morning 🥹🤠💗 check out my Masterlist for more!!!

[sunflowerwinds]

stick ‘n poke | e.w

summary: it’s the first day of the campers arriving and you have a discussion with ellie about tattoos. during the supervised session of the campers doing arts & crafts, she mentions that she knows how to stick ‘n poke and you take her up on the offer. late night tattooing and exposing questions ensue.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

contains: even more flirty!ellie, oblivious!reader, needles and slight bleeding so tw for that, steve being a himbo ally.

word count: 3.6K

a/n: maybe i love this series. comments & reblogs are much much appreciated lovelies <33

under the summer stars masterlist

The first day of the children arriving was more than hectic. More of the staff came the day after everyone else had arrived like the chefs and security for the grounds. Now, the seven camp counselors, including you, stood in a row outside of the main office on the opposite side waiting for the children to come out one by one to sign in with their parents. You recognized a few familiar parents and children but there were always new faces which you loved to see.

Ellie stood on your left while Steve was on your right. The group wore white baseball short-sleeve shirts in blue, green, and red blocking with block letters reading ‘STAFF’ on the back those coordinating colors. You thought they were insanely cute compared to the years before; it was strictly neon but Dina and you begged for something less bright and more flattering.

Thankfully, Tommy, Joel’s brother, and owner of the campgrounds, heard the complaints and had the dress code changed. You forgot every year how exhausting it was trying to reassure sketchy or overprotective parents that their children are safe and are never going to be alone. Etc. You could never blame them considering what people hear a lot about summer camps: specifically slasher-type movies based around the isolation of camps.

There were a lot of kids you recognized from the summers prior, making sure to let them know it, especially the ones that recognized you first.

Once the early crowd came by and huddled into your cafeteria for a complimentary lunch before the parents headed off home, you finally were able to take a breath, turning to the auburn-haired girl with a smile.

“Jesus, I always forget how overstimulating that is. How many parents asked if I was thoroughly CPR trained?” You exasperated to which Ellie threw her arm over your clothed shoulders, tugging you in for a moment.

“Trust me, I get it. Almost every parent asks if I’m even allowed to work here because of my tattoos.” Ellie rolled her eyes and held her arm up to you, turning her wrist from side to side to show you the tattoo. “Like do they think I’m gonna just grab their kid and shove a needle into them?”

You simply chuckle, resting your head on hers. Her thumb rubbed at your shoulder through the fabric causing you to slowly close your eyes with a hum. Every touch from her felt like a stress relief.

“Definitely. They saw tattoos and thought ‘she can definitely do a stick and poke on my child.’” You hum.

“You don’t have any tattoos right?” Ellie questions as her hand moves from your shoulder to your upper back.

You shake your head with a disapproving sigh, trying not to think about how her thumb was now massaging into your tense upper muscles. What the hell was she doing? Trying to send you into a coma?

“I do want some though. They’re just expensive as hell,” you lowered your voice which Ellie hummed in agreement.

“Well, I’m sure when you do you’ll look even better than you already do,” Elise raised her eyebrows at you with a cheeky smirk.

You shrugged her arm off your shoulder and shook your head.

“Shut up,” was the only argument you could come up with as you felt flustered at her comment.

Ellie merely chuckled and held her hands out in defense. “What? You want me to lie and say you’ll look like shit?”

“I didn’t say that, Els,” you look around as she openly cusses without thinking, hoping none of the helicopter parents heard her.

Before Ellie could retort something back, the two of you heard Joel calling the whole group of counselors over. You give her a pointed look before she playfully pushes you along as you walk, making you giggle like an idiot. When you get to where Joel is standing, Ellie’s hand lingers on the middle of your back as he speaks to the entire group.

You couldn’t believe how touchy she was being. Not that you were complaining but you swore years prior she had never been as lingering with her touches with you.

“After everyone is done in the cafeteria, gather your groups so that y’all can go to the cabins and help them unpack. After that, take them to the arts cabin to make their name tags for their bunks and tie-dye their shirts for next Wednesday for the field trip to the Botanical Garden,” Joel reads off his see-through red clipboard.

The group nods as they agree to the set schedule for the day. Once every single parent had said tearful ‘goodbyes’ and ‘love you’s’, your friends began to round up their troopers for their cabin. This was arguably one of your favorite parts of camp; getting to know these adorable children.

One by one, each of the counselors called the names of all 12 of the campers for their assigned cabins. You introduced yourself to the children, smiling at them kindly in hopes they would become comfortable with you. Some of them were more shy than others but that’s usually the case.

“Okay guys, you’re just going to follow me to the cabin where everyone will put your bags down before we head on over to the art cabin. If you have any questions, any at all, do not be afraid to ask me, okay?” You look at the wide-eyed and curious faces before they all agree to your statement.

You reluctantly had to walk away from Ellie and made your way to the cabin, checking to make sure every child was accounted for once you arrived. After about half an hour passed where you explained the basic rules for camp to all the kids, you gathered them to make their way over to the art cabin.

You felt more at ease when you entered the much larger cabin to see the rest of your friend group already having the kids make the name tags. Your campers dispersed once you gave them the ‘okay’ to go and color.

Ellie gradually made her way over to where you were standing, watching over the kids to make sure they weren’t drawing anything inappropriate on their name tags. Her shoulder bumped your own, a brazen grin on her face. Your brows set in a furrow at her fidgety manner.

“What’s up, Els?” You question, turning to her.

“I may or may not have gotten stuff to do stick and pokes,” she lowered her voice, making eye contact with you.

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head at her words. The children were thankfully distracted by the rest of your friends to even listen to what you two were talking about.

“Where the hell did you get the materials for a stick and poke?” You asked in disbelief.

“Gave Tommy 50 bucks to go and get everything from the grocery store down the street.” Ellie shrugged nonchalantly.

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“I could give you one, you know. Free of charge, of course, since it’s your first one.” Ellie added on which really spiked your attention.

The offer was tempting if you were being completely honest with yourself. It wasn’t as if Ellie was a terrible artist; she actually had a bit of talent in that department. She was pretty much the only person here you would trust to do such a thing. On the more selfish side, you could be alone with Ellie.

“Miss Ellie! I need help!” A young boy shouted from across the room.

“Alright, buddy. I’ll be right there,” she called back before turning to you to point a finger in your direction. “Think about it, okay?”

You nod slowly. “I will.”

Content with your response, Ellie jogged over to the boy who had gotten the glue on his face. You internally freak out as your eyes dart around the room. All of your campers were doodling away, chatting amongst each other while you were having a crisis.

You had zoned out so bad, that you didn’t even realize that Steve was now standing next to you.

“Oh, Steve, hi.” You greeted him with a small smile.

“Hey, um,” he cleared his throat, hands clasped behind his back, “I don’t want to seem nosy but is there something going on between you and Ellie?”

You snap your neck before shaking your head furiously, a weird chuckle leaving your lips.

“No! No, absolutely not.” You persisted.

“Okay,” Steve trailed off, “you… like her, though, right?”

You looked at Ellie who was leaning over all of the kids' drawings, commenting on how all of them were ‘sick’ or ‘cool’. It was undeniable.

“Yeah, why?” You raised your brows at him.

“Damn. I owe Robs 20 bucks.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. You mouth ‘what?’ to yourself before Steve continued with: “She thought you just liked her and hadn’t told her yet and I thought you two were screwing in secret.”

“And you placed a 20-dollar bet on that?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Yeah,” Steve said ashamedly. “Robin went on and on about how ‘not everyone is hooking up just because I do’ and how ‘it’s different because it’s two girls’. I understand that but it doesn't mean, you know, two consenting adult women can’t be hooking up too.”

You blink at the flawless-haired man, listening to him ramble. Robin and he had very valid points.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyways because I’m never going to tell her,” you added, shrugging your shoulders as you scanned over the area to see if any of your campers needed help.

This time Steve whipped his head to stare at you.

“Why not?”

“Uh, because I could humiliate myself and lose her as a friend. I know our relationship wouldn’t be the same if I did,” you explained with a long sigh. “She’s not making it any easier either. She asked me if I wanted her to give me a stick and poke tonight.”

Steve whistled playfully before you bumped his shoulder. He scoffed at your annoyed expression before putting his hand up in defense.

“I’m just saying if I know flirting,” he leaned down to mutter to you, “and I think I do, she wants you just as badly as you want her. My personal opinion is to go for it.”

You shake your head at his words but don’t necessarily push the thought away. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Robin and Abby whispering amongst each other. Robin glanced over to where you and Steve were standing before nudging the taller woman.

“You know what’s going on over there?” You lean into Steve with furrowed brows.

“No clue but I think I gotta go. One of my kids just shoved a googly eye up his nose.” Steve patted a hand on your shoulder before speed-walking over to this table full of campers.

To your surprise, none of your children had spoken up once. You jinxed yourself almost immediately as a little girl with dark coily hair pulled into two ponytails raised her hand and waved it around to get your attention.

You make your way over to her, leaning over to lean over her small shoulder.

“Hi, Vanessa. What did you need help on, sweetheart?” You tilt your head and look at her name tag.

“Oh. No, I didn’t need any help. I have a question though,” Vanessa turned in her chair, looking up at you.

“What is it?”

“Are you and Mr. Steve boyfriend-girlfriend?” She pointed her little finger in the direction of Steve tilting the child’s head back to see if he could get the googly eye out.

You awkwardly laughed at her question, scratching underneath your jaw. Kids, from what you’ve learned working at this summer camp, are extremely nosy and have zero filter with their questions. You remember just last summer when a little boy asked you what were the dots on your face: you were breaking out the first week. He was talking about your acne.

“Uh, no. Mr.Steve and I are good friends.” You said slowly. “Boys and girls can be just friends, you know?”

“Oh, well, he’s super cute,” she giggled as she covered her mouth like it was a secret.

The girl had taste but you just didn’t swing that way. You didn’t know what else to say but thankfully, Abby shouted over the conversations to turn in your name tags to their designated counselors so that they could get started on the tie-dye shirts.

You retrieve the hard stock paper from all twelve of your campers before tucking them underneath your clipboard.

“When your group is called, carefully walk up to the front table to grab a white shirt. If you need help picking out a size, ask for help from any of the counselors.” Abby grinned before making her way over to you.

You turn to her with a small smile, nodding your head over to her group of children.

“You doing okay with your kids?” You question, tilting your head up at her.

“Yeah, they’re not too bad but I give it a few days before they start pulling pranks on us.” Abby sighs with a shrug.

You nod sadly, knowing how truly creative these children can get when it comes to pranking. You still can’t stand the smell of a bubble bath.

“Well, you promised to help me prank Ellie so you’re really one to talk,” you raised your brows at her with a soft chuckle.

Abby couldn’t even say anything to you as you were right.

“I meant that, too. I got a few ideas for her.”

A part of you tried to ignore the quite obvious disliking Abby held for Ellie. Her tone triggered you from the first day and their little tense bicker.

“I will, Abs.”

Abby simply smiled before patting your shoulder with her own clipboard. You rolled your eyes playfully as she walked away from you. You catch Robin’s eye and she avoids your gaze almost immediately.

Weird.

“You sure this is safe?” You question for probably the tenth time that night as Ellie dipped the needle into the little plastic cup of ink.

Ellie let out a soft chuckle at your antsiness, reaching over to place a hand on your fidgeting one. You, after a lot of second-guessing, made your way to the cabin next door, making sure to only knock on the counselors’ side to not wake up the children. Every single voice in your head was telling you that you were betraying your one goal you had for this summer but your heart was telling you to spend as much time alone with her as possible.

Your mental and emotional state often collided with one another.

Now here you were in your oversized gray tee and a pair of green pajama shorts that had white shamrocks on them, sitting on her springy mattress as she dipped the disinfected needle into the tattoo ink. Ellie had on her signature black wife pleaser and a pair of boxer-briefs, one singular black glove on her right hand. The dim yellow of the lamp on the small desk was the only source of light in the small room.

“It’ll be okay. Now, it will sting a little bit because, well, it’s ink going into your skin but let me know if you need a break.” Ellie gave you a heads up, scooting in closer to you on her swivel barstool. “You said you just wanted a sun with a swirl in the middle?”

You nod as you watch her place a hand on your knee to steady your shakiness. You were nervous but excited for doing something like this. Outside of the camp, you weren’t someone who left their house often unless it was to eat, for school or when one of your three friends invited you out which you declined most of the time.

“Can we talk about something so that I don’t move a lot and fuck it up?” You nervously chuckle.

Ellie sucked in a deep breath as she began to poke the needle into your skin, causing you to scrunch up your nose at the pain.

“How about you tell me about life back at home? Just tell me everything, you know.” Ellie looked up for a second to give you a reassuring smile.

You mutter a soft ‘okay’ as you close your eyes, gripping onto the thin sheets on the bed.

“I don’t really do much. It’s not that I don’t get opportunities to. I just never have the courage to do a lot in my life so that gives me a lot of free time to read romances even though they make me feel extremely lonely. It’s annoying but I guess I kind of did that to myself,” you sucked in a deep breath when the pressure grew stronger on your upper thigh.

“You’re doing good,” Ellie whispered as she dipped the needle back into the ink cup. Her thumb was gently rubbing underneath the skin where she was placing the tattoo.

Great. Now you’re getting aroused and you’re in pain. A dangerous combination.

“Um, oh, I tried dragon fruit and kiwi for the first time last week. It was in a really big fruit bowl with melon, strawberry, mango, green grapes and pineapple.” You blurt out as you remember how delicious the refreshing bowl was.

“Very summer-y,” Ellie hummed with a cheeky smile as she was finishing up the spiral in the middle.

“I thought so,” you hum, sucking in a deep breath as she wiped a disinfectant wipe over the finished swirl portion to clean up some of the dots of ink and blood resting on your skin.

Ellie sat upright to stretch out her hunched over position, looking at you with a gentle smile. You weakly smiled back as you looked at the swirl, tempted to ask her to just finish there but that would mean going back to your cabin which you really didn’t want to do.

“How’s it looking?” Ellie cleared her throat, twiddling the makeshift ink pen around her fingers.

“It’s so clean. How did you do that?” You ask in genuine shock.

Ellie sheepishly shrugged her shoulders as she scratched at the space behind her ear. You let yourself take a few breaths as you brace yourself for the last bit of the tattoo.

“Okay, I’m good now,” you grin as your hand finds itself gripping onto the sheets once again.

Ellie nodded at your ‘okay’ but her eyes locked on your tight-knuckled hand. She clears her throat before motioning to her knee that was pressing into the metal bed frame.

“You can… put your hand on my knee. Just so you don’t screw up my sheets,” she teases as her eyes flicker to her exposed knee.

You hesitantly release the nylon sheets before carefully placing your hand down on her protruding bone. You held back every urge to rub your thumb on her pale skin just as she had been doing to you this entire time. You did, however, feel the little pricks of hairs that Ellie missed on her knee. You weren’t going to judge her, of course. It was comforting knowing how human she was.

“Is there anyone special back home?” Ellie hummed as she dotted the sunbeams.

Your eyes bulged out of your head. How fucking ironic the girl you had been head over heels for is asking you this question.

“Uh, no, not back home,” you shake your head at her question.

You weren’t technically lying. There was nothing waiting for you at home other than your dads.

“So you don’t have feelings for… anyone at all?” Ellie sounded almost nervous asking you the question.

Suddenly your palm grew hot and sweaty at the on-the-nose question. You could lie and say ‘no’ but your lack of immediate response captured Ellie’s attention. Ellie’s eyes flickered up to you with a shit-eating grin on her pink lips.

“I-I don’t.” You accidentally stutter, making you want to wring your neck right then and there.

“You’re a shit liar,” Ellie scoffed as she wiped off the excess blood and ink. “Who is it?”

“No one. Seriously don’t start,” you let out a strained chuckle.

“Why did you get so tense all of a sudden then?” Ellie quipped.

Well part of it has to do with the fact that I would give anything to have your tongue down my throat, you thought to yourself.

“Nothing. It’s no one and nothing, Els.” You shake your head before motioning to your tattoo. “Aren’t you supposed to be tattooing not being nosy?”

Ellie shook her head with a raise of her eyebrows. “So it is someone?”

You mutter an ‘oh my god’ to yourself before she continues to speak. “If it was really no one, you wouldn’t have called me nosy. I’m just saying.”

God, her sarcastic tone both irritated and comforted you.

“I don’t know. Abby is pretty… cool and sweet.” You blubber out, your word vomit causing your head to ache.

Ellie’s features dropped for a moment at the name. You even felt a nerve in her knee twitch. Why did you say Abby of all people? She pursed her lips before going back to the task at hand.

“Abby?” Ellie hummed. “Really?”

No.

“Yeah. What’s wrong with Abby?” You question the freckled girl, eyes flickering to her furrowed brows.

Ellie sucked in a deep breath, shaking her head. You wanted to scoff at her reaction but you simply kept your hand on her knee, allowing her to finish what she started.

“What about…you?” You carefully ask.

“What about me?” Ellie raised her brows.

You sigh. “Do you have anyone special?”

Ellie’s soft green eyes followed up your body to your lips before shaking her head, dismissive of your question.

“No one you know of.”

This needle is digging into your skin and your blood is seeping to the surface but Ellie’s words hurt the most tonight.

tag-list: @abbyshands @ih8chickentenders @elliesprettygirl @justhereforinspopics @be3flow3r @hearts4joongie @plutolovesyou @bready101 @joanvisitsrome @elliewilliamssrealgf @hysteriawillnotsuccumb @shady-lemur @melanie-watermelon @elliescoolerwife @ucannotcompare @sakiigami @shalalala-sana @joordynn @ummlover @thisiscarlatrying

[girlwiththoughts13]

No place for a Dragon

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader

Warnings: Targ-cest/ smut!

Word count: 1k

~~~~~

The cold winds and bitter snow that dust over your skin feels far more harsh against the heat your body naturally emits. The frigid temperatures of Winterfell is no place for a dragon. The thought of remaining here until the ends of your days is more frightening than the prospect of marriage. For the lord stark is a kind and honorable man, that rarity alone makes your dreadful thoughts gently fade.

Despite this union being an arranged one-all to strengthen the north as a ally for your mother Rhaenrya- Cregan Stark had done his best the last 2 sennights of your residence in the foreboding halls to quail your concerns of a loveless marriage. He vowed to aways be faithful, and in time, come to love you as deeply as a man loves a woman.

There was no doubt you would preform your duties and give the wolf of the north your companionship, your body, and your name, but your heart was not as compliant.

It's not that you didn't find him attractive or kind or all the things a lady would hope for in a future husband; however your heart simply did not beat, at his more than adequate attributes.

How you wished to rip put your own heart, tear it asunder and remold it to fit the lord stark. He may speak true, as the years come love will grow.

In the main Hall of the keep you clutch onto the furs wrapped around your shoulders and await to meet the kinslayer himself. It has been long since you set your eyes upon your uncle. It seems he is still as brazen as ever, showing up to a house that went against Aegon's claim and alone at that. You wondered what was crossing through his mind. Did he think to take on the soldiers on his own? Even vhagar would not be able to defeat thousands of angry northern men.

Regardless of the trap you suspected, if able, capturing the second son of the whore Queen would be a feat for your side.

Lord stark stood beside you, jaw set and hand tightened around his sword. You could feel his eyes move to the side of your face, no doubt blaming you for the arrival of the man with the largest dragon in the known world.

Continuing to stare straight you decide to break the thick silence. "Will you turn me in to save your house?" The worry has set in your thoughts since the circling of the monstrous beast was spotted. Aemond surely is not here to discuss the notion of peace.

"Do you think so low of me?" You finally meet his gaze and find nothing short of offense, Starks were no oath breakers, to be accused by his betrothed of all people, made him believe he was not doing enough for you or the war efforts.

Before you could answer, the large wooden doors creaked open snapping your stare to the approaching men.

Four men surrounded the dragon prince as they walked, ensuring he did not try to assassinate there liege lord or their princess.

When the men came to a halt your betrothed stepped forward shielding you from view.

"I'd say I admire your boldness but I believe it's just stupidity that has lead you to my lands" Cregan spoke with clear distain and although his back was to you, you know his face is just as thunderous.

"I had to see for myself if the rumors were true, my dear niece being sold off. Tell me Lord Stark has she spread her legs for you yet? If she's anything like her mother then I suppose that answers that." Aemond speaks with a cruel tone and a smirk that never falters splayed across his face. The allegations against you and your mother, wretches a small gasp from your lips.

"How dare you, come here, dishonor Lord Stark and spew vile insults toward my mother the Queen and her daughter? I could have your head for that, send it to your bitch of a mother" The sudden sound of your voice and the threat against his mother struck a nerve if the hard-set in his eye was anything to go by.

"Nyke gōntan daor māzigon kesīr naejot vīlībagon nyke jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon lēda ao mērī" I did not come here to fight I need to speak with you, alone. His switch to your mother tongue was a obvious slight to Cregan, but you had not time to dwell on that, not when he was asking the impossible of you.

You did not give him the satisfaction of answering him in your native language. "Do you think I'd go anywhere with you alone? So that you may slit my throat or worse take me to the red keep as a hostage of the usurpers?"

"Give me one reason not to string you up? Or send you to the Dragon Queen?" Cregan obviously had picked up on Aemond's intentions and had begun to reach his limits of his presence.

The sinister smile returned on Aemond's face, making your blood run cold, knowing his hand was about to be revealed. "You're right. You could kill me right now or keep me as a prisoner, but not before Vhager burns this entire castle to the ground. I am prepared to meet my maker, are you Lord Stark?"

The Lord of Winterfell goes to rebuttal such a threat but Aemond continues. "Or, niece, we could have civil conversation, after which I promise to return you to your pup."

You step around Cregan, prompting him to reach his hand out to stop you from advancing. He gives you a pointed look, one you return.

You place your hand atop his to soothe his worries. You lean up to his ear and he angles his face down to meet yours. "I'll be okay, your house shouldn't suffer over a mere denial of conversation" The whisper of your voice reaches him and only him. You pull away to show your resolve leaning up once more to press a firm kiss on his cheek. Squeezing his arm as you pass.

Reaching Aemond he holds out his own arm to you, one you ignore. He lets out a chuckle and gives his head a light shake.

As you walk Aemond tells you of a cottage he happened upon, a near by place he had left Vhagar awaiting his return. Although you hate the idea of leaving the safety of Winterfell grounds, Aemond will not budge to a private audience in your quarters, therefore you walk silently beside him.

You stop walking when you both reach the door of the quaint cottage. Vhagar a little off to the side puffing out hot air, that reaches you from where you stand. He looks back at you with amusement. "Scared niece?"

Donning a smirk of your own you proceed onward aware of the mistake you were making and finding you did not care at all.

"Ohh.. Fuck!" The moans run out of your open mouth as your slammed up and down on Aemond's cock in rapid motions. The echo of your skins clapping together Is heard throughout the small space and should any one happen to find themselves taking a stroll near the grounds would surely hear the raptures of your pure pleasure.

Aemond latches onto your bouncing tit, suckling at your nipple and bringing a hand to knead the other. His free hand that rested upon your lower back, reaches up to take a strong hold on the back of your head, yanking the sliver tresses back from where you hidden your head in the crook of his neck.

He moves his feet to root them to the ground, to meet your thrust, your rhythm restrained by the small chair you ride him on.

"Does your pup still believe you a maiden?" His thrust growing harsher at the mention of your intended. "Does he know I've ruined you? Gotten deep inside this tight cunt and imprinted my name on the mouth of your womb?" It is a wonder he speaks as if not strained from supporting your weight atop him and the excursion of fucking up into you.

There is no desire within you to answer. You wish to forget of the realities of the outside world and be here and now. Feeling his warm skin on yours creating fire that stokes you completely alight. This will be the last time you lay together the war of fire and blood rearing its rotten head. You realize that was the reason for this. Showing up and demanding an audience with you. Risking his life for one more night with his princess, his niece, his love.

You place one small palm on his mouth to stop more vulgarness from spewing out. "Just shut up and fuck me harder, unless the dragon would like to yield to the wolf?" Aemond lets out a growl and winds his arms around you, standing to his full height with you in his arms. He manages to stay inside you as he walks you to the near by table. When he sets you down he pushes down on your stomach to lay your back flat against it,

The way he was fucking you earlier has nothing on the way he pounded into you now, practically embedding your skin in the oak of the table. Aemond has one hand on your hip and the other comes up to wrap tightly around your throat cutting off your air immediately. Your hand grabs his wrist but you make no attempt to free yourself from his grasp. Despite the circumstances there is no fear in your body, instead you find hot arousal, one that makes your already wet cunt gush more liquid at the base of his cock.

"My, my, look at this, what a sight" You glance up at him, his eye trained directly on the place where his cock disappears within you.

His deft fingers circle up to your clit and that is your undoing, your legs shake from around his waist and your back arches up, head thrown back, a loud moan tearing through you.

Aemond lifts you up to him, from the gap you made when your back raised off the table. Your head falls on his shoulder, limp from being throughly sated. Gone are the precise thrusts, replaced by quick hard shoves inside you, desperate to reach his peak. Once more he tugs your head back and kisses you deeply passionately, It remind you of when you were children, ignored by your elders and seeking love in each other. Kisses hidden beneath the blanket of darkness.

Aemond's stills and groans quietly as his seed fills you to the very end of you and there is a small part of you that hopes it takes root, so that you may have a piece of him always, even when he is gone.

"I love you" You both whisper, low as if you will be strike down by all the gods if heard.

Mayhap's you have already been scorned by their fury.

[smoshyourheadin]

spencer’s funeral and his partner is the special guest and roasts spencer so hard and than revels that they are getting a cat together but everyone thinks it’d a baby announcement lmaoooo or however you wanna end it

Special News

pairing: spencer agnew x f! reader

a/n: anon i love this idea so much!! guys please don’t come at me for these terrible jokes i’m just a girl really 😜 also i’m posting sm rn go me

requests are open <33

“lebron james inspired us with his baller moves. steph curry inspired us with his words. spencer agnew inspired us by being a piece of shit, so we would never follow in his footsteps.”

you’re stood at the podium of the funeral, spencer in the coffin next to you holding a bouquet of plastic flowers as he tries not to laugh.

“spencer is a gamer, and we all know that. but if he spent as much time with me as he does on world of warcraft, i’d be the happiest girl on earth, but hey, at least he has a high gear score to keep him company whilst i cook.”

you see everyone laugh as you switch the paper, angela cackling over what you thought was a pretty shit joke.

as the laughter dies down, you continue on. “spencer and me only ever disagree over stupid things, and i think to myself, he must know he’s short when he has to look up to see eye-to-eye with someone who's shorter than him, because i’m always right. i’m sure courtney feels the same about shayne.”

at this, courtney yells “FACTS!” from behind one of the cameras, and you shoot her a wink.

shayne then stares you down, and all you say is “shayne don’t worry, i’m a short king ally!” which he just smirks at.

“i have some pretty bad jokes here, so let’s quickfire some.“ you mutter to everyone.

“if sleeping on my arm were an olympic sport, he’d have more gold than michael phelps.” this earns a giggle from spencer, as you have a folder on your phone of him asleep in the most awkward ways possible, always lying on your arm somehow.

“he’s so obsessed with video games, even his posture looks like it's from a character model that hasn't loaded properly yet.“ this makes everyone cackle, spencer opening one eye to glare at you, and you just laugh him off.

“your gamer boy posture is so bad, chiropractors have your picture on their vision boards on what to improve on.”

“do you guys think that,” you exhale through your nose at what patrick has written on your prompt card. “spencer’s idea of sitting normally the same as a pretzel’s idea of being straight?” which is so bad it’s good, making you crouch down to laugh.

you stand back up after a moment, your stomach twisting over what you’re about to do. it’s going to be so worth it, but gosh you feel bad.

“spencer, my lovely boyfriend, is a mt dew kickstart addict, certified gamer girl, and a soon to be father” and at this last statement, everyone gasps, and spencer’s eyes shoot open and he sits up. he looks at you intently, and you see him experience about a hundred emotions at once

you smile at everyone, turning to a camera, pulling out a printed off certificate of adoption, a picture of a tiny ginger cat taped to it.

“we got a cat!” you say, almost proud of how shocked everyone is

as you turn to look at spencer, you hear shayne’s laugh, and you look at spencer with sympathetic eyes, mouthing ‘i love you’ to him over all the laughter. he just smiles, knowing that this cat is going to be so loved by you both. especially you. because you love him so much.

as you sit back down, spencer sits up. having come back from the dead, he has some things to say. he goes through everyone at his funeral; alex, shayne, damien, tommy, selina, and then, you.

“and finally, my beautiful girlfriend, y/n. my bundle of sunshine, blinding and hard to look at directly.” you scoff at this, and he looks at you with a look that says this is a joke please don’t kill me when we’re home.

“i mean, come on, you cry at surf's up? i guess even animated penguins have higher emotional intelligence than you.” he manages to say through a fit if giggles. spencer always teases you for this, even though he cries at the NGE film. loser.

after wrap, courtney comes over to congratulate you on your cat, and just catch up generally.

“so, cat parents hey? proud of you girl” she says with a grin.

“yeah, i kinda feel bad scaring everyone into thinking spencer gets game in bed.” you reply, earning a laugh from her.

“don’t be mean to me! i’m a player you know?” spencer says coming up behind you.

“okay, sure you are mr ‘i cry at anime’.” you snap back.

he throws his hands up in defeat, and you kiss his cheek, going off to see amanda.

“she’s so cool.” courtney says

“yeah,” spencer replies. “she’s not that bad.”

she elbows him in the ribs, and he clutches his side

“i mean, she’s the best!” he says through strained teeth, courtney doing a proud nod before catching you up.

[hana-no-seiiki]

BROKEN EXPECTATIONS, NEW ASPIRATIONS (I/III)

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere! batfam + dc heroes x yandere! alien! reader (ft. ocs of mine, and other dc characters)

synopsis: you weren’t as innocent and benevolent as they thought you were, but that just makes things all the more exciting

tw/cw: dddne, reader is yan (platonic for this part, romantic for future parts(diff people). yandere themes, general violence, torture, sadist reader, incest (one-sided/not reader n it’s a brief mention so it’s not a main part of the story oh god-). reader is half based on jingliu/jingyuan from honkai star rail + laezel from bg3 worldbuilding. and there’s also a bit of malenia/miquella inspirations. reader has a background. reader’s alieness is explored/talked about. op! reader. wish fulfillment.

in short this was an oc insert of mine that i reconfigured for you guys to read. not your thing? scroll past thenks.

[next]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE KINDEST, MOST LOVING PERSON THE BAT-FAMILY EVER KNEW. You were so gracious with your benevolence that each and every vigilante took it upon themselves to take care of you at all moments lest you fall into unsafe situations or the hands of people who would ruthlessly take advantage of you.

Eventually, they forgot the fact that you were the sibling of the notoriously violent DAYBREAK, a vigilante that could be easily called a villain or terrorist instead if it weren’t for his close affiliation and friendship with the old Teen Titans crew when he was younger. He helped once in a while, but only if it meant he had free rein to cause carnage.

“This is useless, they won’t fess up.” Jason grunted as he fumbled around with his weapons, all broken after the battle just moments prior. Aliens and their abilities always made him feel so small in the grand scheme of things, and especially when they completely obliterated his entire arsenal.

Tim groaned, his back ached from the amount of times he was flung away towards whatever wall or ally the enemy wanted him to go to. He was used to being man-handled and even enjoyed that once in a while, but not in that way. “Aren’t they one of your kind? Cant you like… I don’t know…”

Your brother huffed, a pout on his pretty features. Quite similar to yours. Yet, he doesn’t spare the rest a glance. His eyes were trained solely on a restraining spell he managed to conjure as a last ditch attempt to stop the fight before it got . . . irreversible. Usually he’d just disintegrate whatever or whoever even looked at him wrong but even this titan-like intruder was proving to be a pain in the ass. “I can’t believe you, doesn’t mean we’re the same kind or whatever that means that—“

“He’ll be lucky to be even considered as one of us, filthy —“ The massive form spoke. Its metal like body clanging as it struggled in the spell’s area of effect. A soldier from your home planet, not as well trained as your brother — but he was brimming with aetherial ardor. A sort of magic source your people used.

“Okay, that’s it.” [Brother’s Name] groaned, summoning the last piece of his strength to open up a terminal. “Hey mooncake, need ya to do something for me.”

“No, we aren’t letting [Y/N] anywhere near this one. They could get seriously hurt. We were barely even able to—“ Dick held him by the shoulder, only to get burned by your brother’s leaking ardorial energy.

“Relax. Besides I’m not in your team. I don’t have to follow orders from you.”

“Daybr—“ Rachel, her cape almost completely burnt and tattered opened her mouth to admonish him.

But the sound of your sweet voice (more like hoarse, and half awake) silenced them all, “What do you need help with this time?”

“[L/N] don’t listen, go back to sleep, beloved.” Damian moved in from behind, learning from Dick’s mistake and instead using his blade to warn [Brother’s Name].

But if anything, that made the man more excited to annoy the “demonspawn”.

“Oh, mooncake you can’t believe who I stumbled upon today! Smile for the camera why don’t you?”

[Brother’s Name] flipped the terminal to show your face.

“You’re . . . General [Y/—“

And then flipped it back, showing his injured body. “He hurt me real bad. Look.”

Your face does not move nor your voice waver,

“Come back to the base.”

“No.” Black Canary, Dinah, slammed her hands on the table. She couldn’t believe this. It was already bad that they allowed you to be involved in their line of work, now they were letting you come face to face with a being that almost wiped an entire team of experience fighters? What were they thinking?

“That . . . thing is dangerous. We cannot allow this to continue!” Arthur concurred. He saw the state of your brother. A civilian like you had no business with something so dangerous.

“Unfortunately I have to say no to your refusal as well.” You calmly responded, “This situation is under the jurisdiction of the Fleet. It is only right that Daybreak and I deal with it.”

“Father you can’t possibly allow them.” Damian gripped your shoulder as he pleaded with Bruce. He had known you the longest next to Tim. You were barely able to hold your own as a normal student. Not that he was looking down on you, but if you couldn’t even fight for yourself in conversation, how could he let you be around that monster?

Bruce closed his eyes in deep contemplation. He studied your kind comprehensively. He did so for every vigilante and villain alike (Contingencies were his specialty) From how your magic system worked, to how society and customs were like. A lot of his knowledge came from Clark, who had also done his fair share of investigative work into your background.

He of all people in this line of work knew how dangerous you and [Brother’s Name] can be. He had done his calculations based off of what Daybreak could do. But curiosity drove him further.

“Fine.”

“Father!”

“But the whole league will be watching you, alongside the Young Justice and Teen Titans.”

“Sheesh, overkill much?” Daybreak, now plain [Brother’s Name] in a bunch of casts, piped up.

You nodded, quite honestly just aching to get out from this stuffy room already. “That is fine.”

Before you left, you head swiveled to take one last look at your sibling, building up whatever emotions you needed to see the job through, “Get some rest, brother.”

“Are you kidding? I gotta watch this.” Your brother laughed in earnest, almost-too-wholesome-for-him manner. You managed to understand why as his eyes scanned the people in the room.

He wanted to see them react to your true nature.

Your form finally disappeared from his sight as his eyes finally settled on another image of you glued atop a folder. “What are those?” He pouts to gesture at the objects, too injured to move his limbs.

“Files on [Y/N] and the being.” Bruce answered, opening up the screens for the cameras to the interrogation room.

[Brother’s Name] knows you’d give him a sermon for using his powers while he was already banged up but he had no choice. His arms were too broken to open up the folder after all. “You guys work quick.” He commented as the papers levitated and flipped through itself.

His eyes scanned the typewritten document swiftly, smile growing by the moment, “Pffft — kind hearted soul? Who wrote this?”

“It was compiled by me, but our sources vary from vigilante to civilians.” Clark mumbled. As one of the only other aliens, and people who could feel aetherial arbor. He felt your presence, your anger leaking earlier. It was heavy, as if the world was suddenly placed upon his shoulders. Yet he felt no fear for his own safety, only yours.

The gigantic door before you slid open revealing the enemy the vigilantes struggled to subdue earlier.

The soldier stood upright, sensing your presence. The rumors were true it would seem. Many wouldn’t be able to spot it, a testament to whatever you did to conceal your prowess, but they immediately recognized the magnitude of your ardor practically oozing around you.

He was expecting your anger. He knew of your protective nature towards your brother.

“My apologies.” But you didn’t. Instead you began nursing their injuries, repairing their armor, and even initiating casual conversation. “It must have been a long journey. I can’t help but resent whoever sent you here.”

“Your Excellency! I came of my own volition.”

“Oh? But judging from your armor you must be one of the knights.”

“Yes, 512th Squadron of the Imperial Army.”

“Of course, my eldest brother’s . . . “ Your fought to keep your hands from clenching. A gentle smile on your features remained unshaken even by the sudden revelation.

“Y-yes, your Excellency. It took many jumps for me to get here on my own.”

“Alone? What did you wish to come here for?”

“I-I wished to meet you but those Earthlings wouldn’t let me.”

“Mm. And so you fought them. As is right for one of our kind.” You brought out a handkerchief and wiped down your hands after finishing the task at hand. Then you took a seat in front of them.

“You understand! Of course.”

“Actually I came here to bid you to return. The Emperor misses you dearly and wishes to see you.”

“Do you know why he does?”

“N-no?”

You looked down. Voice soft, relaxed shoulders, a solemn tone, and a tremble to add on top. “My brother. He wishes to have a child with me. To use my powers in the form of a future heir to the throne.”

“I am not quite ready to have a child yet.” Nor were you interested with being a babymaker for that tyrant. But that wasn’t an appropriate excuse in the grand scheme of things.

“I understand! Your Excellency is quite young and even then, you have saved countless of lives. You deserve only to do as wish and nothing less.” The soldier slammed the floor in front of it. “Besides, his Majesty had already taken so many concubines I’m sure an heir wouldn’t be needed anytime soon.”

You nodded. A moment or two of silence for your mind to recollect everything that has been said before you execute what you came here for in the first place. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “How incompetent must the new Imperial General be at the moment?”

“Pardon?”

“Information is the most valuable asset to any sort of battle. As a general I kept a tight leash on it. Lest it spilled and caused unnecessary ruckus.” My knights were drilled, put through fire and blood, wiped clean before they were thrown back into hell again. And most importantly they were taught to sew their mouth shut or die. You, you just spilled everything I needed to know the moment I showed that I cared.”

“Your Excellency, I —“

“I was only going to punish you for trespassing. A measly act of destroying your Aetherial Helix.” “But in all honesty, I might be doing that brother Emperor of mine a favor by going . . . further.”

“N-no, you wouldn’t, you’re—!” The soldier was about to defend you even in its dying moments. But as it truly recounted all that has been told about you from its peers and seniors, it realizes one truly fatal fact.

You were never known for benevolence.

“Please! I did this all for you! I only wanted you back as my General!”

“Let this be a lesson.”

“No, please ! I- I - I beg of you—“

You looked up to the ceiling, beyond it — the stars and the infinite darkness you once called your home.

“And so I’ll continue to wield your blade, until I cut the stars from sky. I will protect you even from the gods I serve.”

You chant. The blood on your hands once again becoming too visible and distracting.

“Thank you for your service, soldier.” You deeply bow your head to the disintegrating corpse beneath you. Allowing the fallen's drained life essence to cover your forehead. [Brother Name] smiles. To others it may seem to have been a sign of respect — but to your kind, you were simply absorbing the spoils of battle. Taking in the dead and disgraced's remaining imprint on this world.

“My deepest apologies for the mess and time it took. The matter has been dealt with.” You returned. The blood, having dripped down your face, had dried and turned dark.

“I hope this has not soured your view on me.”

“Not at all . . .” Tim was the first to speak at your return. His fingers unconsciously replaying the footage of your . . . execution. Millions of questions already shot across his head as he was eager to probe you on them one way or another.

If anything it only made their obsession with you worse.

“Let me be your sinner, brother. This oath I shall never forsake.”

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous “say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

[fushitoru]

gojo getting jealous about reader having a crush on spiderman is so funny to me. he's like a dog barking at its own reflection

cw: spiderman gojo content below cut, blurb is suggestive, for context reader and him are at a frat party on halloweekend and reader was jumped in an ally where spiderman saved her before this, might not make sense bc there's like 7k words before this but my yapper self couldn't keep this to myself, might be changed or not make the final cut, NOT EDITED

“Something like that,” you mumble, not wanting to give him the entire story. Twisting the cap off the bottle,  you take a sip, hoping he’ll just leave you alone, but instead, he leans against the counter, looking entirely too comfortable.

“So,” he says, tilting his head, “I heard through the grapevine that you had a run-in with that Spider-Man guy this week.”

That makes you pause mid-gulp of water, instead of coughing a bit as you try to swallow it down without basically drowning in Kirkland Signature Natural Spring Water. You’ve only told, like three people outside of Kento and Iori, so you’re confused why he knows this information, but you continue on regardless. The memory of Spider-Man swinging in to save you flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but smile softly to yourself. “It was amazing. He’s—he’s incredible, honestly. The way he just swooped in and handled everything? So fast, so precise. He’s like a real-life superhero.”

You’re basically gushing to him, and you realize that a bit too late as you look at his face to gauge his reaction. He’s looking at you with a newfound interest, albeit a bit too conflicted to fully tease you about it when he says, “Sounds like you’re smitten.”

“Maybe I am,” you admit, laughing. “I mean, who wouldn’t be? He’s brave, he’s kind, and he doesn’t even stick around for the credit. It’s like he’s this selfless, untouchable figure.” You also kind of want to give him a sloppy toppy for saving you like that, but you spare Gojo the details. 

“Untouchable, huh?” Gojo echoes, his tone turning a bit wry and…jealous? “Sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and you think Gojo can tell with the way you’re heating up and bashfully looking at the ground. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, leaning closer, “if that’s your type, you might want to raise your standards. Superheroes are overrated.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And what, you’re not?”

He grins, that infuriatingly charming grin that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and laugh. “I’m better. I’m real.” He then puts his hands on the counter behind you, caging you between them until your knees are lightly brushing, and suddenly his face is so close that small little breaths from his nose are fanning across your face. “I can prove that to you.”

And you hate your body for being so…reactive and enthusiastic to his smooth-talking, face flushing. Despite that, you try to put on an air of nonchalance. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“Really?” he teases. His hand leaves the marble counter to hover at your hip, his hand subconsciously tracing your curves an inch above your skin. The motion, firm but tentative as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light, makes you shiver as you subconsciously move your hips to finally have the skin-to-skin contact. And your skin sings in happiness as he draws circles into the area right below your skirt, even momentarily dipping just below, to which you realize that he’s treading very close to your panties, since your skirt’s really short.

"Yea," you basically sigh, hating yourself for how breathy your voice sounds.

It seems to have an effect on Gojo because his eyes darken as he murmurs, "Wastin' your time on that Spiderman guy."

Maybe it's the fact that it's late (you've been getting sub four hours of sleep this past week) or the lights in this humid frat bring a heady air, but all academic-rivalry-overshadowed-woman-in-stem history between you and Gojo disappears in your brain as you rake your eyes up and down his torso and then look at him through your lashes. "Who should I spend my time on instead?"

then they get cockblocked but

[mingis-orangejuice]

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part.2: Xavier

Summary: You and Xavier help a little boy find his mom. Xavier loves the thought of one day starting a family with you

a/n: this one was really cute, I almost made it way longer. i was gonna add so much more banter back and fourth with the cotton candy vendor but it would have made this fic super long

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 831

Previous parts 1, 3, 4

You and Xavier were walking hand in hand down the streets of Linkon City. just enjoying each other’s company. You can hear faint crying coming from an alleyway. “Do you hear that?” you stop and hold onto Xavier’s arm for him to stop too.

“I don’t hear anything.” he pauses and cups his ear to try and hear better.

“It sounds like crying. I wonder where it’s coming from?” You start to follow the sound, Xavier close behind still trying to hear what you hear.

You turn down the nearest ally and see a little boy sitting on a box crying. You quickly move towards him. You bend down next to him “What's wrong buddy? Are you lost?”

Without saying a thing he grabs you into a hug and starts crying even more. Xavier standing behind you tries to ask again “Hey friend do you need us to help you find your way home, we’re Linkon City hunters and we’d love to help.” The boy stops crying for a moment and looks up at you two

“You’re hunters? That means you can help me find my mommy right? She’s lost and I don’t know where she is” His eyes start to well up with tears again

“Don’t worry hun” you say as you take a tissue out of your pocket to wipe his tears. We’ll definitely find your mommy, hunters are always here to help.” You say with a smile. You pick him up, stand and you all head out of the alley. 

“What does your mommy look like?” you ask the boy.

“She’s really pretty, just like you,” he said squeezing your cheeks together

You laugh “and what else? Is she tall, or short, what colour is her hair?

“Umm she’s tall and has long black curly hair, and umm…” he says trying to think of more descriptors.

“So when did you last see her?” Xavier interrupted

“I don’t know, we went to the market together and I said I wanted cotton candy from the cotton candy stall and I went to go get some but then Mommy disappeared.” the boy explained

“Hmm, so we’re looking for a tall curly-haired lady at a cotton candy stall.” at this point, you 3 are now just across the street from the open-air market and it's swarming with people “This is gonna be harder than we thought.” Xavier thought out loud.

“What?” the boy says tears starting to form again. “I thought you said you were hunters and you could find my mommy?” the little boy starts to cry again. 

You shoot Xavier a look. “Why would you say that?” you lightly slap Xavier’s arm “We’ll definitely find your mom, don’t worry. Even if we have to search all night we’ll find her. You have my word as a hunter” 

The boy seemed to brighten up after that. You crossed the street and into the marketplace. You searched for about an hour when you came across the cotton candy vendor. “Oh hello, son did you come back with your mom and dad for more cotton candy? The vendor asked referring to you and Xavier. 

“No this isn’t my mommy and daddy, they’re hunters and they’re gonna help me find them. The boy informed.

“Oops I’m sorry, but…” the vendor looks at both you and Xavier. “Though, you have to admit you 3 make a cute family.”

Xavier’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink picturing being with you and your own baby as a little happy family. “Haha yeah I guess we do” he rubs the back of his neck

You look at Xavier and smile, but quickly get back to business and give the vendor the description of the boy’s mother, but before he can answer…

“There you are!” a voice from behind you calls out. You all turn around to see a lady just as the boy described.

“Mommy!!! The boy quickly reached out to his mom to hug her almost falling out of your arms, but thankfully she caught him. “These cool hunters helped me find you!” he exclaimed

His mom looked at both of you with a smile. “Thanks so much for helping him, Linkon City should be proud to have hunters like you two.” she thanks you again by buying you each some cotton candy and leaves with her son.

You and Xavier are now walking out of the market together eating your cotton candy. “That was nice of her,” you say looking at Xavier.

“Yeah next time we should help a kid next to a meat skewer stall” he laughs and you playfully nudge him. “But the vendor was right about one thing”

“What's that?” you turn to look at Xavier as he reaches for your hand.

“We did look like a family back there, it was nice.” he looks lovingly into your eyes for a moment.  “And hey, maybe if we come back as a family he'll give us a discount” Xavier winks at you mischievously.