#sometimes i like to do one sitting pieces

[v6quewrlds]

can u write a fluffy clingy joe one shot?? maybe building legos or something!! i love ur work!! i hope u have a nice day!!🫶🏾

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: here's a fluffy little palette cleanser <3

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 0.9k.

The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air as you stirred the pot of homemade hot chocolate on the stove. You glanced at the clock; it was already past six in the evening, and the darkness outside pressed against the windows like a heavy blanket.

"Joe," you began as you poured the steaming liquid into two oversized mugs, "I understand you're upset, but maybe you should take this week to recharge. Watch some movies, play some video games, do something that doesn't involve football."

Joe sighed, taking the mug from you with a nod of gratitude. "You're probably right," he admitted. "But it's hard to sit still when all I can think about is what we could be doing to fix things."

You kissed his forehead gently. "You can't control everything, Joey. Sometimes you just have to trust that things will pan out the way they're meant to." You leaned in for a quick peck, then stepped back to pick up your warm mug.

Joe sighed again, his eyes lingering on the TV that was muted in the living room, displaying highlights of the Cavs-Pelicans game. "Fine," he said finally.

You raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"

"Fine," Joe repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can we build that Lego set we got last Christmas?"

Your eyes lit up. "Seriously?" You had been dying to tackle the intricate, sprawling Star Wars that had remained in its box since Joe's brother, Dan, gifted it for Christmas. "You know I've been waiting for this moment."

Joe nodded with a hint of excitement in his voice. "Yeah, I figured it's time we put it together." He followed you to the living room, where you cleared the coffee table with a dramatic flourish.

You sat down across from each other, the instructions sprawled out between you. You picked up the instructions, your eyes scanning the pages. "Okay, we're building the Death Star," you said with a smile. "Where do we start?"

Joe leaned over, his sarcasm in full swing. "I'm surprised you remember what it is. You're the one who said it looked like a giant space donut when we opened the box."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Hey, I know my Star Wars!" you protested. "The 4,000-piece count kind of took me by surprise, though."

Joe chuckled, sifting through the pieces. "Alright, space donut expert, let's get to it."

Your eyes were glued to the instructions, the pieces scattered around the two of you like a colorful minefield. A soft laugh filled the room as you held up a tiny Lego stormtrooper, your thumb and forefinger framing it like a photograph. "Look at this little guy," you said, grinning. "He's so cute."

"Cute? He's a symbol of imperial tyranny, babe," Joe retorted with a chuckle, earning a playful shove from you. Despite his initial hesitation, Joe was fully invested in the project. His mind was clear of the team dynamics that had consumed him all week. The Legos demanded his focus, and he gave it willingly.

You took a sip of your now lukewarm cocoa and leaned in closer to examine Joe's progress. "Looks pretty impressive," you said.

Joe glanced up, his cheeks reddening slightly. "It's just Legos," he said, but you could hear the pride in his voice.

"No, it's not just Legos," you replied, setting your mug down. "I love it when you get all focused like this for something other than football. It's cute."

Joe rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Cute, huh?"

You nodded. "Yeah, like a big ol' teddy bear."

"Teddy bear?" Joe scoffed, but the playful teasing had lightened his mood. "I'll have you know I'm a very intimidating Lego architect."

You couldn't help but laugh at his defensive tone. "Oh, absolutely," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm quaking in my boots."

Joe smirked and tossed a Lego at you. It bounced off your arm and you feigned injury. "Careful there, Burrow," you said, your voice full of mock pain. "You wouldn't want to hurt the one who's keeping you fed and hydrated."

"Well, you're not helping much with the whole 'keeping me hydrated' part," Joe quipped, nodding towards his nearly empty mug. "I'll need more of that hot cocoa if I'm going to get through this."

You stood up with a smile. "Your wish is my command," you said, practically skipping back to the kitchen. As you brought the pot to a boil again, you watched Joe through the archway. The stress of the season had etched lines into his face, but as he worked on the Death Star, you could see them slowly smoothing out.

When you returned with the freshly filled mug, Joe took a grateful sip and leaned back, eyeing the progress. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I've been so caught up in work that I forgot how much I enjoy just... doing nothing."

You sat back down on the floor, your mug now steaming in your hands. "It's important to have hobbies," you agreed, your voice gentle. "Things that make you happy outside of football."

Joe nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before returning to the Legos. "You're right," he murmured, his voice a mix of acceptance and regret. "I just... I want to win so badly."

You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "I know you do," you said softly. "And you will. But you'll have to wait a week to do it. For now, just enjoy the quiet."

[thisismeracing]

Can you please do Mick dating Raikkönen!reader hsc, please?

sure <3 hope u like it, nonny!

Requests are now CLOSED.

MICK DATING A RAIKKÖNEN!READER | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Raikkönen!reader just like her father is not in for silly jokes or small talk. She’s direct. If she doesn’t like you she’ll tell it to your face. The opposite is true as well - that’s how she told Mick she liked him after they hung out for a few months;

“I like you.” Short, simple, and direct. So direct that Mick wasn't sure if she meant she liked LIKED him or if she was being friendly, but since the latter was unlikely, he gathered up his courage and asked her on a date;

Though Michael and Mikki raced together, and Mick pretty much grew up inside the racing scene, the same was not reality for Yn. She did like racing, but when she was a kid Mikki and her mother chose to prioritize her privacy and her studies, that's how she wasn't friends with Mick. But once they met, it was a perfect match. Mick was shy at first, so that made him silent, and Yn just wasn't interested in talking. The silence was comfortable, though, and she saw herself walking near the bench he was sitting on and sharing a piece of her granola bar with him. Her dad had seen the friendship unfold, and he nicknamed them 'birds' because they would feed each other silently and then leave only to come up the next weekend with a sandwich, a granola bar, a candy, share in silence, and then leave again;

When Mick finally asked Yn on a date she told her dad and though he used to make fun he ended up feeling jealous - he even suggested that he could go too as if it was a friend meeting, not a date. Yn laughed at the situation, something she didn't do all the time, which made it even more special to those around her;

She sent Mikki a picture after the date. Their faces squished together on the screen of the phone. He could see Mick's arms around her shoulders, but her smile was so bright he couldn't help but feel happy for them;

He has dinner with the Schumachers the next month, minus Mick, of course. And they talk about the likelihood of their relationship becoming serious. They end up choosing to support them, Mikki being pretty sure that Yn wouldn't back down if he told her to, and the same with Mick;

Now, Mikki is a bit unsure of everything at first. He did see Mick grow up. He was friends with his family. But still, it was Yn! His little girl. That doubt went away a few months after they announced the seriousness of their relationship. Older Mick was a fun guy, nothing like the babbling kid nor the grumpy teenager he used to be. So the Schumacher and the older Raikkönen ended up realizing they had a lot in common;

After that, it's always "Where's Mick, Yn? Is Mick coming to the family vacation? Are the Schumis spending Christmas with us? Did you give him the book I handed you?" it's funny even;

Mick calls Yn by Raikki a short for her surname. Sometimes he calls her Rai or even Kiki, she hates the latter, though;

I feel like they would be super private. So much that it took almost a year or so for people to pierce the pieces together;

But being private didn't mean they weren't in love. That they were and the garage they attended quickly picked up from the way Mick would smile at her or how she would laugh around him;

Just black cat and golden retriever vibes, but Mick showed Yn her golden side too (the opposite too because Mick started to stand up for himself a tad more);

You know those couples where at least one has to be the person to tell the waiter they got the order wrong? Now imagine Yn is the one who does it while Mick is there like "I wouldn't mind eating raw meet :(" and Yn is like "I want another dish and I want dessert on the house," super serious while Mick is giving an apologetic look to the employee;

Yeah. hihi

[daisymbin]

10. "do you ever think about us like… as more than friends?" With Joshuaa pls<3<3<<3 and female

of course!!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list

fluff prompt #10: "do you ever think about us like... as more than friends?"

it was quiet in the living room, the kind of quiet that felt rare. the only sounds were the soft hum of the heater and the occasional rustle of your blanket as you shifted on the couch. joshua sat at the other end, his legs stretched out, one arm draped casually over the back of the sofa.

he tried to focus on the movie playing on the tv, but his attention kept wandering. the way your head rested against the cushion, the way your lips curved ever so slightly when something funny happened on screen—even when you weren’t looking at him, you managed to pull his thoughts in your direction.

he didn’t even know when it started. maybe it was the way you always remembered the little things, like how he liked his coffee or which songs he couldn’t resist humming along to. maybe it was the way you laughed, so genuine and bright, it felt like sunshine.

whatever it was, it had been consuming him for months, this question that he couldn’t shake.

“you okay?” your voice broke through his thoughts, soft and warm, pulling him back to the present.

he realized he’d been staring. again.

“yeah,” he said quickly, sitting up straighter. “just... thinking.”

you raised an eyebrow, tilting your head to look at him fully. “about what?”

he hesitated. this was it. he could feel his heart pick up speed, a dull thud against his ribs.

“about us,” he said finally, his voice quieter than he intended.

you blinked, surprise flickering across your face. “us?”

“yeah.” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling like every word needed to be chosen carefully. “do you ever think about us... like, as more than friends?”

the question hung in the air, delicate and unspoken for far too long. he couldn’t tell what you were thinking—your expression was unreadable, your eyes searching his face like you were trying to piece together a puzzle.

he felt his chest tighten. maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. maybe—

“sometimes,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he froze. “really?”

you nodded, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your blanket. “i mean, yeah. it’s hard not to, you know? you’re kind of... you.”

his brows furrowed. “what does that mean?”

you let out a nervous laugh, finally meeting his gaze. “it means you’re sweet, and thoughtful, and you always know how to make people feel comfortable. and you just... have this way of making everything better. it’s hard not to think about it sometimes.”

joshua felt his heart swell at your words, warmth spreading through his chest. he hadn’t expected you to say that—not so openly, not so honestly.

“i didn’t think you’d say yes,” he admitted, his lips curving into a shy smile.

you tilted your head, curiosity lighting up your features. “why not?”

“i don’t know,” he said with a soft laugh. “maybe because i was scared you didn’t feel the same way.”

“and now?”

his smile widened, his confidence building with every second that passed. he shifted closer to you, closing the space between you just enough to feel your warmth.

“now i’m wondering if i can ask you out without it being weird,” he said, his voice light but filled with meaning.

your laughter rang out, soft and genuine, and he felt like he could listen to it forever.

“i think you can,” you replied, a playful glint in your eyes.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he leaned in a little more, his knee brushing against yours. “would you say yes?”

“probably.”

“just probably?”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was undeniable. “fine, definitely.”

his grin turned into a full laugh, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“good,” he said softly, his hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. his fingers lingered for a moment, his touch warm against your skin. “because i’ve been wanting to ask for a while now.”

you leaned into his touch, your smile softening. “took you long enough.”

he chuckled, feeling a weight he didn’t even know he’d been carrying finally lift.

“better late than never,” he said, and this time, it was his turn to stare.

you didn’t look away.

[the-palelady]

hi sirinn 💕

it’s been a rough week. was wondering’ if i could request some soft simon? maybe helping his so through a tough time?

love you bunches, hope you’re taking care of yourself!

i feel like this week has been rough for a lot of people. i hope you're resting, staying hydrated, and just taking care of yourself dear. i believe in you and so does simon of course ♡

you seemed to always hold a level head. it was rare for simon to see you falter, if at all. there was always a smile spread wide across your face, the apples of your cheeks pink, a sparkle in your eyes. your laughs would echo throughout your shared home whether it be from something simon had said, or something that you saw on the telly.

but today was not one of those days.

there was no sparkle in those eyes of yours, replaced with a tiredness that left dark bags under your eyes. you were slow moving when waking that morning, not putting much effort into your hair, and grabbing the first thing you found in your closet. your outfit was mismatched with khaki pants and a weird yellow blouse that simon had never seen you wear outside of the house.

your lips sat in a thin line, unmoving as you silently floated about your home like a phantom. there was no noise even as you packed your lunch for the day; not a peep as you slipped your shoes on and stepped out of the house.

and the second you left, simon got to work.

he knew you too well to know that you were just "fine", a word he had expected you to say if he had even dared approach you about the topic. he saw it in the way you slid along the house, slower than a snail as you got ready for work. he saw it in the dull look in your eyes, far too tired to even look up at him and whisper a simple "good morning".

it was late when you returned home. a later night than normal.

stepping inside of your home, you slipped off your shoes, placing them by the front door with a sigh, peeling away your armor piece by piece as you walked towards the living room.

you were met with the sight of a vase of flowers sitting front and center on the coffee table. white lilies to be exact. the smell of detergent hit your nostrils, and you noticed how clean the couch cushions looked from where you stood. the pillows were fluffed and placed in their respected corners.

the wood floors shined from being swept and mopped, reflecting the soft glow of the overhead light. the tv played one of your favorite shows that you always turned on when you wanted some background noise or needed comfort. the bookshelves beside the entertainment center had clearly been dusted, yours and simon's books organized in alphabetical order. just how you liked them.

the subtle scent of garlic hit your senses after a moment, the smell and a voice breaking you from your thoughts.

"welcome home, love."

your widened eyes darted up to meet simon's pools of amber. the corner of his lips were upturned in a slight smile, one meant only for you.

"hungry?"

your mouth opened and closed as you tried to speak, but nothing came out.

truthfully, you were shocked. simon did do chores around the house. he was fairly organized, clean, a simple man who didn't own too much. he always kept his space tidy. but sometimes things got out of hand, and lately it had been hard for you to keep up with the mess. your workload had been tripled. you had personal issues going on in your life that were difficult to discuss, even to simon.

over the course of a few weeks, you felt like you had been backed into a corner. alone and afraid. it seemed like the world had caved in around you, dragging you into a dark abyss that you felt stuck in.

yet despite that darkness there was a light that shined through, and he stood right in front of you, flour dusting his pale cheeks and an apron much too small for him wrapped around his waist.

your lips quivered. your eyes watered so quickly you couldn't hold back the tears that broke through the dam you had built over time.

but before the tears could break through, simon was at your side, wrapping you in the warmth of his body.

you were stubborn. you were independent, believing you could handle anything that came at you alone. however, right now you had to admit to yourself that you did need a shoulder to lean on. even for just a moment. so you leaned into simon's sturdy chest, letting your tears fall freely after all the time you had kept them bottled up.

"shh, love. don't worry. i'm 'ere."

he wiped at your tears. his warm hands glided along the crown of your head, flattening out the strands of hair that had grown messy throughout the day. you were sure you looked a fright, but simon seemed to care less.

"'m sorry," you hiccupped, tears staining his t-shirt.

"the hell ya sorry for, angel?"

"i-i-i shouldn't be crying o-o-over something so st—"

"'nough of that, yeah?" his gruff voice cut you off, but there was no maliciousness behind it. he loosened his grip on you, looking down into your teary eyes with an expression you had never seen from him.

"sometimes we 'ave bad days. everyone. myself included. we can't act strong all the time. s'alright ta need a shoulder ta lean on. ya don't need ta handle this alone. ya always there for everyone. always takin' the punches for everyone else. now let someone else take those punches, hm?

you felt your bottom lip wobble again, and when you didn't say anything simon hummed, his head tilting closer towards you.

"s'alright to cry. doesn't make ya weak. only proves that ya human. so let out those tears, dove. i'll hold ya until there's not a single drop left."

[gojoest]

What kind of childhood friend would Satoru be? If he's the jealous type I can see Suguru and Shoko teasing him for being so clingy.

insufferable and teasing. he makes fun of you when you lose a baby tooth or tells you that the new haircut you got looks weird on you, that it makes your chubby cheeks pop out even more, and so you start fighting. you’re like “my cheeks aren’t chubby!” and he’s like “have you ever looked in the mirror, you pufferfish”, sometimes things get physical and you slap him lmfao but when you turn around and walk away he’s holding his cheek, his face is hot and red not out of pain but bc he’s blushing. you actually look so cute and your hand was so soft and warm, he’s confused as to why his heart is racing like this.

when he takes things too far and you start crying bc of him he doesn’t know what to do, the cheeky arrogant brat looks so pitiful all of a sudden. it’s one of the rare times he apologizes, very genuinely.

even if he’s being like this, satoru is actually very overprotective of you. gives you piggyback rides when you fall and hurt your knees. if other kids bully you he deals with them behind your back, you wonder why they have suddenly stopped harassing you. he’s like “who knows, maybe they just got bored of you bc you’re so lame”

when you share treats he always gives you the bigger piece or portion. like he buys a bag of candies and splits them — 5 for you and 5 for him, he says but there were a total of 9 in the bag to begin with. you never knew that.

when shoko and suguru point out that he clearly has a crush on you and poke fun at him, he gets so embarrassed but denies ever liking you. yet he gets absolutely furious with jealousy whenever you get confessed to. he’s like “what’s there to like about that pufferfish” and proceeds to list all the things you’re terrible at and by the end of it he’s sitting on the floor, hugging his knees with a bitter look and teary eyes, silently mumbling “that’s my pufferfish”… shoko and suguru glance at each other and shrug, like he’s got a long way to go sigh

[kingkat12]

enigma (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, sub!Roman, blindfold, handcuffs, riding, handjob, edging, banter, Roman likes tits tihi, name-calling (for a second lol), fluff sort-of?

summary: after Roman became the CEO of Godfrey Industries, he hasn't been able to let off any steam... so it seems he might need some help figuring out how to channel his frustrations

word count: 4,713

a/n: celebrating 600 followers w the return of sub!Roman!!<33 y'all seemed to like can i watch, so see this as a part 2? gif by @godfreysteel!!! THANK YOU, and hope you enjoy;)

Roman Godfrey was a man of many mysteries— many I didn’t want to uncover. Yet the enigma of how to get him to properly unload after work was one I spent many months figuring out.

After work, Roman would usually come home with a lot of pent-up anger he tried not to take out on me. He’d sit with a shake in his leg, he’d huff at the slightest inconveniences, and blow up without warning over small disagreements. He was no longer the man I had known him to be, now too frustrated with the position of CEO his mother had forcefully bestowed upon him to function properly. Still, I knew that the man I had fallen in love with was buried somewhere beneath the rubble of chaos going on in his life.

So I started out simple. 

When Roman would come home, I’d make sure to hurry to the door and hang his jacket up for him. It was a small thing, nothing major, yet a kindness which eased him with the following kiss hello. Now that I had introduced a form of routine, now that he expected something pleasant the minute he got home, there was a new ease in his step. 

Nonetheless, I knew the day would come when that wouldn’t be enough anymore. Roman was still fidgety and frustrated with his dealings with Dr. Pryce at work, so I realized I had to find a new way to have him release the pent-up energy in his body. 

At first, it was easy. When it felt like a surprise, before Roman pieced together that I had an ulterior motive, it could be done with a simple run of my hands through his hair after dinner on the couch. He’d be hard in no time— I could see the way his cock swelled with interest beneath the restrictions of his suit, and the green of his eyes nearly swallowed me before he pounced.

I wondered why I hadn’t used sex as a solution earlier. Why I hadn’t let him take all this energy out on me in bed before. Roman wouldn’t even bother getting out of his suit sometimes, as he was too impatient to get any form of release— and impatient, he was.

His long, slender fingers would twist into the hair on the nape of my neck, holding me in place as he pushed deeper into me, feeling me clench around his cock in a mix of desperation and utter satisfaction. It was perfect, satisfactory for us both, and it was the best bandaid in the world until it one night got to his head. Giving Roman the power to take anything out on me was seemingly not the best way to go, especially after he had avoided doing just that for so long— now I knew the reason why; “Look at you, taking my cock like the pretty little whore you are… All for me, hm? Just— hah, for me?”

My eyes widened; he knew I didn’t like him calling me any names of sorts. Why had he even said that? I managed to grab a fistful of his hair, yanking him off me as he yelped. “Nope. We’re done tonight,” I huffed, getting up from the bed as Roman protested.

“Come on, I didn’t mean that!” He was a panting mess, cock twitching at the denial of hot, wet friction. “It just— fuck, it was a thing I said in the moment, you can’t fault me for that!”

This was the night that it hit me that I had been slaving around to accommodate him… almost to the likes of a whore. I turned to Roman after getting dressed, watching as he sat up in the bed with a frown. The more I looked at him, the more I saw the spoiled, arrogant man that was constantly on the front pages of gossip magazines for bad behaviour with staff and other associates. “You don’t get to talk to me like that,”

Roman sighed, moving closer to the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, mind still fogged up by his arousal. “Come back here, take that shit off… Let me make you feel good, okay?”

I folded my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes— “No. I’m tired of you not being able to regulate your emotions like a grown adult, and I most certainly will not stoop so low as to let you call me names!”

Roman groaned, raising his voice; “I didn’t mean it, for fuck’s sake!” I could see the usual anger blooming in his big, green eyes, and I hated the sight of it. “I don’t think you’re a whore, my mind just turned off, and it slipped! I wouldn’t fucking be with you if you were one, who do you think I am?!”

I was sure Roman didn’t realize he was digging his grave with every new word spilling past his kiss-swollen lips. “Who I think you are…? Who I think you are?” Finally, it was my time to rage; “I think you’re a spoiled, entitled, whiny��man! And quite frankly, I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you!”

Roman jaw fell, his hands now clutching the duvets to keep himself calm. “… Go on,”

“Go on?!” I wasn’t sure why. “I don’t care to accommodate your bullshit anymore, okay? If anything, I should be putting you in your fucking place!”

This time, when Roman didn’t say anything, I could feel the switch in the atmosphere. It was as though the air got thicker, harder to inhale— I saw the way Roman’s pupils dilated, the way his ears perked up in intrigue. 

Oh.

Oh.

That night, I allowed Roman to sleep next to me after he pleaded with me to accept his apology. I told him that the next time he said anything like that, I’d bite his dick off.

… That seemed to shut him up.

But as for the enigma? I had cracked it. I had cracked it big time— finally, I knew exactly what he needed, and how to give it to him. 

It wasn't hard to find a moment when Roman was seated in his home office, busy answering a couple of emails. A few kisses here and there, a dirty word in his ear, and he was ready to sit still for me; but not without putting up a fight, of course.

“I know what you think you’re doing,” Roman huffed, not fighting the handcuffs anymore. His compliance finally allowed me to secure his hands behind his back, wrists locked behind his office chair. “You think this is some sort of kink-thing that will work on me like magic, like reverse psychology. But I can tell you right now that this something I’m trying out for you and not for me. So don’t get any weird ideas about me, okay?”

Roman’s innate denial was almost comical. I straightened my back, leaning down to press a short kiss to his neck. “It’s not weird,” I cooed, circling him. “You should’ve just told me.”

“Told you what?”

“That you need someone else to take the control once in a while,” I sat down in Roman’s lap, untying his expensive silk tie as I innocently batted my lashes at him. “You just need a little time off, don’t ya?”

His jaw clenched, watching me with narrowed eyes. “Don’t push it,” he mumbled. “I’m doing this for you.”

“Oh, Roman,” I treaded the tie between my fingers, biting back a laugh. “The game is over now, don’t you see? I figured you out!” Pressing a short kiss to his nose, feeling him scoff, I slowly covered his beautiful green eyes with the fabric. I immediately missed them, but I knew it was necessary for his immersion. He was too proud of a man to give in so easily. “Why don’t you just let me take care of you…” I tied the tie, securing the knot before leaning in to whisper into his ear; “… Properly?”

Roman remained silent, too shocked to speak, but his interest was unmistakable— I could feel him hardening beneath me, a tight jolt of his cock bumping into the underside of my thigh. Bingo. 

I angled myself in his lap, slowly grinding my hips up against his bulge; there was a rough breath, almost a groan, as though he was still fighting the idea of completely letting go. “You don’t need to do this,” Roman said, voice unsteady. “You don’t have to.”

It was as though he didn’t trust me not to judge him. “And you don’t need to be so nervous,” I cooed, grinding my hips down against him once more. “Trust me.”

I could see his jaw clenching, but the shaky breath that followed unveiled everything. “I don’t even know what you want to do to me. Don’t get too excited, okay? Don’t do anything crazy,”

It was impossible not to roll my eyes. Roman didn’t see it, anyway. “I’m not doing anything to you, per se,” My fingers trailed down his shirt, unbuttoning the top button. “I just want you to relax and enjoy. Can you do that for me?”

I could see the goosebumps appearing along the exposed skin of his forearms, his shirt bunching up at his biceps. “Sure,” Roman mumbled, attempting not to sound too excited— yet the jump of his cock against my ass gave it all away. 

“I’ve been thinking a long time about how to alleviate your stress…” I got to the end of Roman’s buttons, now trailing my hands up his bare, toned chest. “I thought I needed to let you take it out on me in bed, but I knew that was a misstep the second you got too greedy and called me a whore—“

“Come on!—“

“And that‘s fine,” I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his exposed collarbone. “When I let you run wild, your imagination follows. I should’ve known better than to give you more power… Especially now that I know you crave it taken away from you.”

Roman was starting to become fidgety, his hands fighting the restraints. “Nonsense,” 

“Really?” I straightened up, lolling my head to the side as I watched the man of my life struggle to face his situation. This was the root of all his problems, wasn’t it? I sighed, pressing a short kiss to the soft pillows of his lips— I no longer heard the clanking of the metal handcuffs against the back of the chair. “You got this job sprung on you despite your wishes not to… Bet you wish it could’ve gone to someone else.”

Roman had finally quieted down. I longed to see the look in his eyes, but I didn’t need to in order to know I had hit a home run. “And I’m sorry about that,” I breathed, hooking my hands beneath the edge of my top to wry it off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. “I’m sorry you don’t feel like you can talk about it, but I’m here to make you feel a little better. You’re not the CEO of anything in here, you’re allowed to relax.”

I saw the way Roman’s shoulders slumped, the way his breathing got a little softer. My poor boy. I would’ve felt even more sorry for him if I didn’t feel the way his cock was twitching with excitement at the way I was talking to him. 

I knew I sealed the deal when I sat up in his lap, letting one strap of my bra fall over my shoulder as I brought him closer— it didn’t even take a second before Roman’s lips sealed around my breast with a wanton moan. 

Roman’s tongue circled my bud as I did my best not to let my legs give in to a tremble— I knew this usually drove him crazy. The enigma of men. I held onto the chair, one hand going up into his hair to tug at the tips of his dark locks. Roman let out a soft grunt against my skin, his hips bucking up as his hands instinctively fought the handcuffs. I knew he wanted to grab at my waist, squeeze my ass, knead at my other breast— I knew him too well. The restraints only seemed to make him more desperate.

I pulled away, realizing I was panting as I fixed my bra. Roman threw his head back a little, a small smirk present on his plush lips— “You really know how to get me going, don’t you?”

I shrugged, now trailing my hands down to his restricted cock. “You’re easy like that, Roman,”

He let out a shaky breath, hips keening against the warmth of my hands. “Am not,”

“Yes, you are,”

“Nope,”

“Keep fighting me and I’ll leave you like this,”

That seemed to shut him up. Roman straightened up in his chair, softly clearing his throat as it dawned on him that I was dead serious. “Would you really?”

My God— I didn’t think it was humanly possible for him to get harder right now, but the threat of me leaving him hot and bothered seemed to do it for him. I wondered whether his zipper would split open soon, as the constraint only got tighter. “If you don’t shut up soon, I will,”

“You wouldn’t,” Roman echoed, his voice growing weaker. “… Would you really?”

Seeing him get this excited only did the same to me— I needed to get him out of these pants before it was too late. This was Armani, for fuck’s sake. I placed two fingers against Roman’s mouth, knowing he’d get the memo— with a small huff, he wrapped his lips around my small digits, letting them rest against his warm tongue.

The sight of it sent shivers down my spine. “You talk too much,” I said, my free hand unbuckling his belt and discarding it somewhere next to my top. The second the zipper was rolled down, Roman let out a sigh of relief against my fingers, his head rolling back just a little. 

“If you promise to stop snarking, I’ll take my fingers out. Hum if it’s a yes,”

As expected, Roman did— when my fingers were out, I leaned forward to brush my lips against his, feeling his shaky breath seep out of his lungs. “Kiss me, at least,” he pleaded. “I feel like I’m gonna fucking burst.”

I leaned forward, watching him part his lips on a soundless intake of breath as my gaze darted to his mouth. I cupped his cheek, my thumb brushing over the softness of his skin— it was surprising to see how he was responding to it. I hadn’t ever been given the opportunity to lead; had he maybe just been scared to be seen as vulnerable?

“I’ll kiss you in a second,” I breathed, my mind returning to Roman’s aching cock— I watched his breath hitch when I gently tapped the tip of it with my finger, and his head shot to the left as his breathing got heavier. 

My heart was thumping hard in my chest at the sight, and I got the confidence to bring my palm to my mouth, slicking it with spit before I brought it down the length of his cock. Roman let out a breathy hah, pushing up into my fist.

Oh, this was almost sweet— I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, slowly working my fingers around the shaft. “Is this okay?” I asked, pulling away when I sensed his wish to turn back to me. 

Using his senses, Roman somehow managed to find the tip of my nose, nudging it gently with his. “Yeah,” 

I was relieved to know he wasn’t seeing the deep blush creeping up my cheeks. The small drop of pre-cum that had built up on the tip of his cock spilled over, now running down the back of my hand, and it brought me back from my moment of shyness— I had gotten him this worked up. I never thought I’d be able to do that, especially not to Roman. So, with a newfound confidence, I leaned forward to grant him his wish of a kiss. 

As he was still blindfolded, his muscles hitched with caution, yet his cock twitched in my hand at the softness of our reunion. Roman quietly moaned into the kiss, easing up further in my hold as I continued my slow strokes along his thick shaft. 

However, what I didn’t expect, was for his usual instincts to kick in, and I was left with my breath caught in my chest as Roman placed eager kisses down my jaw. I had a feeling he didn’t think I would have control for longer than this— “Rome,” I cooed, tilting my head upwards to give him access as his kisses trailed down my neck. “Give it up.” It was impossible to deny that it felt good, and I was unsure how I was supposed to will myself to stop him. “You’re not in control, Roman.”

He hummed against my skin, the instinctual fight against the handcuffs echoing throughout the room. “But I want you,” he breathed. “I want to see you, want to touch you—“

Fucking hell. I should’ve known Roman would get greedy. So I decided I needed to go to more drastic measures; I unwinded my grip around his cock, getting up from his lap to a string of protests.

It felt as though all my nerves were on fire as I watched him buck up into nothing, panting at the lack of contact; “No,”  he breathed, whimpering. “Come back, I’ll— I’ll sit still, okay?”

“Hmm…” I slowly tapped my foot against the floor, making my frustration audible. “That’s not enough.”

“Come on!” Roman was whinier than ever, throwing his head back as he struggled against his constraints. His mind was fighting the idea of letting go, yet his cock was twitching with immense interest. Silly man— he didn’t want to recognize this wish to surrender. 

… This meant I had to force it. 

I stepped towards him, watching as his breath hitched in anticipation. Now that he was blindfolded, his senses were heightened. “Tell me what you really want, Roman,”

He took a second, brows drawing together. “You know what I want,”

“No, not that,” I placed myself behind him and pressed a kiss to his ear, hearing him whimper as I reached down to wrap my fingers around his cock. “What do you want?” I whispered into his ear, listening to his quiet moans. 

“I want— shit, no, I can’t!—“

“Yes, you can,” I sped up my strokes, and Roman’s lips parted in a mix of confusion and pleasure as his head rested against my shoulder. “Tell me.”

I knew he was close to breaking, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him; Roman turned to me, almost for comfort, as he whimpered against the crook of my neck. “I just— want a break… from being in charge,” he breathed. “I’m so tired of the fucking— responsibilities—”

My heart swelled as I pressed a kiss to his forehead. This only proved that I had been entirely correct in my deductions. “I know,” I cooed, slowing my strokes to give him time to breathe. “It’s okay to be tired, it’s okay… Just let me take care of you for once, hm? It’s not weak to want… relief.”

“Relief,” Roman echoed, huffing against my skin. “You planning on giving me that tonight?”

I had to bite down on my lip not to laugh, resorting to a scoff. “If you keep snarking? No,”

The denial was surprisingly effective— Roman’s cock twitched in my hand, followed by a sharp, breathy moan, which was the sign he was close. “Something tells me you secretly like being told no,” I teased. “You probably haven’t heard that word much, have you?”

“Shit, maybe— yeah, you’re right,”

“Of course I am,” I ran my free hand through his hair, feeling him panting against the crook of my neck. “Wanna cum?”

“Yeah... Yeah—“

“Well, too bad," I removed my hand; "Not yet,”

Roman’s head rolled forward as he let out a loud groan, hips bucking up into nothing as I moved away from him once more. “Fuck you!” he yelled, fighting his restraints. “Fuck— God!” 

I hadn’t been this entertained since I saw the last episode of Sex and The City for the first time. “I’m gonna be nice and act like you didn’t just cuss me out,” With a smirk I was happy he didn’t see, I sat back down in Roman’s lap as I tapped my fingers against the tip of his cock, watching his breath hitch as his thighs clenched. The droplet of pre-cum connected to my finger like a string of saliva, and I gazed in awe as I toyed with it— he wouldn't let me do this if he wasn't beyond horny, so I seized the moment to explore. “I think you’ve had enough now… don’t you think?”

Roman nodded, his plush lips parting as he tried to steady his breath. “Yeah,”

I never thought I’d like being in control like this. Yet I reveled in it as I wrapped my hand around his slick length again and watched his breath catch in his throat. Roman was so raw, so vulnerable, fucking finally— “What do you want, then?”

“Fuck me,” he breathed, his head tilting back as he fought a string of moans. “Fuck me, just— fuck me.”

“Wait… me fucking you?” I had to rub it in, I couldn’t help myself. Thankfully, Roman didn’t see the evil grin that spread across my lips. He had taunted me like this many times before, anyway. “That’s unheard of in the Godfrey vocabulary.” 

Roman would’ve gnarled back more insults if he wasn’t so damn horny— “Don’t make me say please,”

“Well… That was never the plan,” I shifted, pulling my underwear to the side as I raised my hips, letting the tip of his cock slowly brush against my sex— I hadn’t expected to be this wet, actually. Neither did I expect the broken moan that escaped Roman, whose hands were fighting the handcuffs in a flash of instinct. “I know that making you say please would make you want to kill me after we're done here, so I’m not gonna do that… I’m just trying to take care of you, remember?”

It was only when I sunk down on Roman’s thick length, draping my arms around his neck, that I heard a weak little yeah from him. I knew he was long, long gone now. Doing my best not to shudder, I pressed a loving kiss to his cheek; “Are you finally gonna— hah, let me do that?” 

Roman nodded, turning, his lips now placed parted against my jaw; “Yeah,”

The few times I had been on top didn't compare to this time at all. There was something so thrilling about slowly sliding up and down the length of Roman's cock, feeling his choppy heaves of air against my skin as he fought the primal thrust, pound, fuck. It was exhilarating to hear his need for me when I ran my fingers through his hair, the small whimpers falling off the tip of his tongue.

Blindfolded, with no possibility to touch, feel, hold me— I knew this was driving Roman absolutely nuts. Still, he was yielding, surrendering to his deepest, darkest wish to finally, fucking finally, have no control in the world. At long last, he had no other task than to sit still, enjoy, and feel good. With a sigh of relief, Roman's lips found mine with the utmost gentle touch that made me clench around his cock, which coaxed out the most delirious moan from him. 

His mind was so, so gone, his senses on absolute fire when I pulled my hips up along his cock, keeping just the tip in me. Roman groaned as his hips jerked forward, giving up the fight against his instincts. "Shit—You tease!" 

"Really, now?" It was no longer possible to keep my voice steady, too drowned in the pleasure. "You do this to me all the fucking time, Rome. Call it karma."

Roman whimpered— "Sorry,"

That was almost too sweet to ignore. I fought my wish to coo at him, to cup his face and pepper it with kisses, and instead opted to stroke my fingers through his hair and shortly kiss his lips. "No need," I whispered, pulling away to watch his breath hitch when I slid back down his length, the thickness of his cock filling me up once more.

"Fuck— Fuck!" Roman was so close, I could feel it. 

Who would've thought this would be the thing to break the great Roman Godfrey?

His jaw was tight, and the sound that escaped his chest was somewhere between a moan and a sob— I would've been worried, had he not been smiling. Roman's head tilted back, his body now relaxing, giving in to the pleasure as I enveloped him to the hilt with a small breath. I leaned forward, putting my hands on his chest for support; I fucking loved this. Because finally, I understood him better— Roman's hunger for power was made clearer to me than ever before, and the all-taking high of being able to do something like this to another person corrupted my mind as well. 

Like this, I could drag him into me, squeeze him tight around my walls when I slowed my pace, and simplest of all— I could choose when to kiss him. And Roman wouldn't dare to deny me now, with how he was desperately chasing his high.

"Thank you," was all he managed to say, smiling against my lips in complete and utter ecstasy. Something told me he was grateful I had staged a coup of dominance. "I needed— needed this, thank you, thank you, I— shit, shit!" Roman buried his face in the crook of my neck, the soft fabric of the tie around his eyes pressing against my skin as he let out a loud cry, spilling into me with a small shudder. 

Roman's cum was warm as always, and it felt like a consolation prize for all the bullshit I had taken from him these past weeks; it slowly seeped out of me as he tried to catch his breath. 

I brought my fingers to the nape of his neck, gently twisting his hair in my fist, knowing he liked a little sharp twinge of something to bring him back from a climax that strong. "You did good," I cooed, stilling my hips as I softly kissed the shell of his ear. "Good job, Rome."

And with that, Roman sunk into the chair, no longer fighting his restraints or the blindfold— he let his shoulders slump as he let out a sigh of true relief, a feeling he had been chasing since the day he got his new job as the CEO of Godfrey Industries. "If you ever speak a word of this... to anyone," he breathed, struggling to talk through the quiet heaves of air. "I'll have your head on a spike."

I rolled my eyes; "... Lovely," Who the fuck would I ever tell this to? Silly, silly man.

I couldn't help but laugh as I brought my hands forth, untying the tie around Roman's eyes. It slowly fell over his nose, and the hard glare I had expected from his green eyes wasn't there— instead, there was a look of pure and utter admiration. I had a feeling his heart was swelling at the thought of finally having met someone who dared to go against him like this. "But if you don't tell anyone..." Roman practically blushed; a sight I hadn't seen before. "We could... do this again sometime?"

I leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose, holding back a grin of victory. "So you liked it?"

"... Don't push it,"

"Say it, or I'll tell the whole world,"

"Yeah, right!"

"... I bet the newspapers are dying to know the fact that Mr. Roman Godfrey likes to be bound and fucked—"

A loud groan followed from Roman; "Fine!"

"Fine, what?" This was too much fun. 

"Fine, I liked it! A lot!"

I grinned, slowly inching off his softening length. "There you go," I cooed, watching the blush on Roman's cheeks deepen. 

"You're gonna be the death of me," he grumbled, trying not to let his breath hitch. "Now, get me out of these fucking handcuffs so I can get you off too."

Finally, Roman wasn't an enigma any longer, having made himself and his intentions clearer than the bright rays of the moon... and who was I to say no to such an offer? 

"As you wish,"

[princesskenny1998]

One Piece | Monkey D. Luffy x f!strawhat!reader ~ Neck

I mean, you know that one scene? That gif where he drinks? Okay, hear me out—

You and Luffy had been together for a while now, and if there was one thing everyone on the ship knew about you, it was how you couldn’t keep your hands—or lips—off Luffy’s neck. It was almost instinctual at this point; you were drawn to that part of him like a magnet, finding his neck and throat irresistible. There was something about the strong curve of his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he spoke or laughed, that made your heart race. You couldn't get enough of the feeling of his warm skin against your lips or the way he reacted to your touch.

On nights when the sea was calm and the ship rocked gently, you loved to snuggle up against Luffy in your shared bed. The comforting sway of the ship was always the perfect lullaby, but what truly made you feel at home was resting your head against the crook of Luffy’s neck and shoulder. His skin was always warm like sunshine, slightly salty from the sea breeze, and it just felt right to be so close to him. You would bury your face against his neck, nuzzling the spot gently while he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. He would always let out a little contented sigh when you snuggled up that way, the vibrations of his voice soft and comforting against your cheek.

Sometimes, when you were feeling particularly affectionate, you’d press your lips softly to the side of his neck, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin. It was one of your favorite things to do—watching Luffy’s playful, carefree expression change to something more vulnerable and aware. You’d feel his body shiver lightly, and he would often let out a chuckle, the kind that made you feel warm from head to toe.

“Ah! That tickles!” he’d say, squirming a little and trying to shift away while you laughed against his skin, refusing to let him go. His reaction made it all the more fun.

“Luffy,” you’d tease, brushing your lips against his ear, your fingers lightly stroking the back of his neck, “hold still for once.”

“B-but it tickles!” he’d protest, his voice catching between giggles. He was so ticklish in that spot that even the lightest touch would make him squirm and fidget. Yet, despite his playful struggles, he never pulled away completely. It was like he was caught between his natural instinct to move and his desire to be close to you.

One lazy afternoon, the two of you were alone on the deck. The sea was calm, and the sun was warm, casting golden rays over the ship. Most of the crew was either napping or below deck, leaving you and Luffy to enjoy a rare, peaceful moment together. He was sitting with his back against the mast, his straw hat tipped over his face as he rested. You were curled up against his side, your head comfortably nestled against his neck.

Feeling mischievous, you leaned in and kissed the exposed side of his throat, gently biting down just enough to make him gasp. He jumped a little, his hand reflexively going to your waist.

“Hey!” he laughed, lifting his hat slightly to peek at you, a playful grin spreading across his face. “What was that for?”

You gave him an innocent smile. “Nothing,” you said, pressing another quick kiss to his jawline. “I just really like your neck.”

Luffy’s cheeks tinted a faint pink at your confession, and he laughed again, the sound warm and genuine. “Yeah? Well, I like it when you do that,” he admitted, his voice softer, almost shy, which was rare for someone as bold as Luffy.

He shifted a little, settling his hat back over his eyes, but not before tilting his head slightly to the side—offering you better access to the spot you loved so much. It was his way of saying he was okay with your little obsession, that he liked being vulnerable with you, even if it meant being tickled senseless.

You grinned and took full advantage of the moment, pressing a series of soft, lingering kisses up the side of his neck, feeling his pulse quicken beneath your lips. Every time you kissed him there, he would let out this little breathy laugh, his shoulders shaking lightly, and it always made you fall a little more in love with him. You couldn’t help yourself from leaving a few hickeys along the way, enjoying the idea of marking him as yours, even if it meant him teasing you later for it.

“Oi, oi!” he said, his voice hitching slightly when you sucked at the base of his neck. “I’m gonna look like a pirate leopard if you keep doing that!” He was still laughing, but his eyes were warm and relaxed, showing that he didn’t mind at all.

You giggled against his skin. “Well, I’m your girlfriend, so I can do what I want,” you said teasingly, blowing a warm breath against his ear.

His laughter softened, and he reached up to gently cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice losing that usual goofy tone and growing more serious, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

There were times when he would get you back for your playful teasing, catching you off guard by flipping you over and peppering your face an neck with kisses, leaving dark hickeys along his way down your body, but you always knew his neck was his weak spot. And you loved having that little bit of control over him—knowing that you could make him blush, make him laugh, make him squirm with just the smallest touch.

One evening, when the crew was gathered around for dinner and Luffy was recounting another one of his wild stories, you couldn’t help but notice the faint hickeys that still dotted his neck. They were barely noticeable unless someone looked closely, but they were there—a little reminder of your affection.

As he laughed and ate, carefree and full of energy, you caught his eye from across the table. He paused mid-sentence, giving you a grin that made your heart skip a beat, and you knew that he didn’t mind. Not one bit. You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you.

Luffy may have been the captain, always in charge and leading his crew with determination, but with you, he didn’t mind letting his guard down. He didn’t mind being vulnerable, letting you have that special spot in his life where you could tease, cuddle, and leave your affectionate marks on him.

And when the night was over, and the stars hung above the Thousand Sunny, you would always find yourself right back in that familiar place—curled up against him, head resting in the crook of his neck, feeling his warmth and knowing that there was no place in the world you would rather be.

[inmyheaddd]

beneath the same stars - averyjameson

summary: avery’s mind is flooded with doubts about the hawthorne house, and thoughts that she hasn’t told anyone. somehow, she finds herself confiding in jameson hawthorne. a/n: aww baby averyjameson :( this takes place before they are officially together / between tig/thl (jameson is sooo down bad omg) wc: 1.8k

the rooftop wasn’t her favorite spot, but it was his, and tonight, avery didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. 

after avery had climbed up very cautiously, she noticed jameson sitting dangerously close to the edge, sitting with his legs dangling off, without a care in the world. 

the wind rippled through his half-buttoned white shirt, and he turned around right as avery neared, sending her one of those grins that made her brain feel light, and kept his eyes on her right until she sat next to him.

she forced herself to ignore it, “you could’ve told me you were coming up here,” she said, settling down a few feet away— close, but not too close. and much further away from the edge.

he analyzed the way she looked from where she sat, before looking back at the sky infront of him. “figured you’d find me anyway.”

jameson reached over to the other side of him, then held out a recently opened bar of dark chocolate to avery. 

she stared at the chocolate for a second before taking it. 

“i hate that you’re actually right sometimes.” she didn’t eat the chocolate right away, and just stared at the floor. 

jameson looked intrigued. “careful, mystery girl, that almost sounded like a compliment.” he grinned, but his tone was softer than usual. he could sense something was up with avery. 

he gave her a long look, then eyed the distance between them, asking a silent question. 

avery gave a slight nod, and jameson moved to sit beside her. shoulders nearly touching, so close jameson could practically hear her mind whirring. 

they sat like that for a while, the silence stretching but not breaking. avery could hear the soft rustle of the wind through the trees, and the sound of cars far away. 

it made her think of how different this was to her life just a few months ago. nearly nothing was the same.

“sometimes,” she said suddenly, trailing off with her voice barely audible. “sometimes i think about leaving,” she exhaled a deep breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

jameson turned his head slightly, but not all the way. “leaving hawthorne house?”

“yeah.” she picked at the wrapper of the chocolate, tearing it into smaller and smaller and smaller pieces. “the house. the money. all of it.”

“would you, though?” his tone was careful, which is a word that was almost never used to describe anything about jameson. but with her, he was careful. 

avery shrugged. “i don’t know. i mean, it’s too late, right? there’s people who want the worst for me. without oren and everything, i’d be in danger.” she looked at her lap, mumbling quietly and trying to sound detached. 

she couldn’t tear the small pieces of wrapper any more, so fiddled with her fingers instead. 

“isn’t that crazy?” she chuckled as she set her hands down back in her lap, but it sounded hollow. “people i don’t even know, people who know nothing about me, who want to harm me. or— or people that know too much about me, or people that knew your grandfather, or—“  she cut her nervous rambling off with a sigh, tucking her hair behind her ears.

she couldn’t believe what her life was now. this was the first time she was really confiding to anyone other than libby or max about these thoughts she’s been having, about the huge what ifs. 

jameson observed her quietly. he wanted to reach out, but he didn’t know if it was alright to do that yet. 

for some reason that avery couldn’t quite pinpoint, she felt like she could actually talk to him.  “i just— sometimes i wonder if i should’ve left sooner. or just never have come. then i wouldn’t have to deal with all of this.” 

she crossed her arms over her chest as the wind got stronger, and pulled her shirts sleeves over her hands. “it just kind of feels like i don’t belong here, no matter what i do.”

jameson was oddly silent for a moment, and slowly tore his gaze away from avery and back to the sky that was beginning to set. 

avery quickly began to worry— did she over-share? she definitely overshared, she didn’t even know jameson all that well. why was he so silent? why on earth did she—

“you’re wrong about that,” jameson finally said.

avery’s thoughts were put to a halt. “about what?”

“saying you don’t belong.” he answered, “you belong more than any of us, look at you, heiress. you’re incredibly intelligent in all aspects. in your first few days, you solved the keys faster than anyone else. the house could do with a few more complicated geniuses. ” he sent her a small grin, “maybe you belong more than you’d like to admit. 

avery shook her head and looked away, the wind whipping through her hair. “i don’t know, jameson. sure, i solved them faster, but that doesn’t mean anything, not really.” she said, ���and i’m not complicated.”

jameson raised a brow.

she narrowed her eyes, “what’s that supposed to mean?

“whatever you want it to mean, heiress.” he said through a chuckle. “i’m just saying, i didn’t call you mystery girl for no reason.”

“you barely even call me that anymore.” avery said before she could even think.

jameson grinned, “why, you miss it?”

“absolutely not.” avery shook heir head, fighting a small smile. jameson didn’t say anything else as he watched her. he could sense there was something else waiting to be asked.

avery’s smile faded, and she pressed her lips together as she formulated her words. “jameson?”

“yes, heiress?”

“you always seem so sure of yourself. don’t you ever think you’re doing the wrong thing— like, making the wrong choices?”

a smile finally reappeared on jamesons face, and avery realized that she had missed seeing it. the thing is though, the smile wasn’t like his usual one, it was almost like one of those bitter ones. 

his head was tilted up with his adam’s apple on full view, “all the damn time,” he said, a slight shake of his head as he looked up at the sky. 

avery got the feeling that there was a lot more to jameson hawthorne than what she had thought originally. “and, what do you do about it?” she stayed looking at him, even when he wasn’t looking at her. 

he chuckled lowly, gaze still up at the sky.“nothing.” 

that answer didn’t surprise avery in the slightest. she hummed, “nothing at all?” 

“nothing at all, heiress.”

“nothing at all,” she nodded as she repeated quietly, as if she was tasting the words on her lips. 

he nudged her shoulder gently, that one cheshire grin finally back on his face. “you got it.” 

avery’s face broke into a small smile despite herself, and jamesons grin only widened. 

“why do you come up here so much?”

“you have a lot of questions today.”

she looked back at her lap, “sorry, i didn’t mean to—“

“don’t apologize,” he cut in. “i’d answer anything you ask.” he sent her one of those joking grins, but it didn’t feel like a joke. “to answer your question, mystery girl, its because i can see everything from up here.” 

that’s all he said, but there was more to it. he would come here to think— he always had since he was a kid. jameson was told he wasn’t as creative as his brothers, wasn’t as determined, wasn’t as talented. 

he would literally come up here to see the bigger picture— look for more possibilities, more answers, and then he could maybe find who he really was.

avery looked ahead at the landscape infront of her, her fingers playing with the torn chocolate wrapper. she hadn’t even taken a single bite.

“sometimes,” jameson continued softly, breaking the quiet, “i think this is the only place that makes sense.”

she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “a rooftop?”

“not just any rooftop, heiress,” he said, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “this one. and as a bonus, thisview.” he tilted his head toward her, his meaning unmistakable.

her heart stuttered, and she hated how he always managed to do that. “you’re so strange,” she muttered, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her with a smile.

he shrugged, “i try.” he said as he leant back on his hands behind him. 

avery let the silence stretch, also leaning back slightly to take in the view. 

the sky was bruised with shades of deep blue and purple now, stars faintly visible against the last streaks of orange. 

she felt the weight of jameson’s presence beside her, solid and steady, even as her thoughts spun.

but then movement caught her eye. down below, the gravel driveway lit up with headlights as a sleek black car rolled to a stop.

her chest tightened when she saw who stepped out. oren, his stance sharp and alert as always. then alisa, perfectly composed, her phone already in her hand. and finally—grayson.

he adjusted his jacket as he stepped out, his expression unreadable, the way it always was. 

he said something to alisa that avery couldn’t hear, and she watched as they moved toward the house together.

she didn’t know why, but the sight made her stomach twist. she hoped jameson didn’t see the way her shoulders tensed. 

“looks like the cavalry’s back,” jameson said casually, his voice pulling her back to the present. 

he’d noticed them too, of course.

avery and jameson shared a look. yes, he sounded casual, and he did try to put on an expression of nonchalance, but avery saw through it.

just like how he saw through her constant attempts of looking unfazed. 

avery looked away, then exhaled. “i should probably go.”

jameson didn’t move. he stayed sitting, leaning back on his hands, his gaze flicking from the driveway to her. “are you in trouble, heiress?”

“i never even know when i am,” she said, smiling already. “that shared look on alisa and oren’s is never a good sign, though.” she said as she looked down at him.

“are my reckless antics rubbing off on you?” he narrowed his eyes jokingly, tilting his head. 

“no. in your dreams.” she let out a chuckle, and jameson loved the sound. when she spoke again, her voice was quiter. 

she tried to make it sound like a joke though. “i just can’t seem to make the right choices recently. i’m always doing the wrong thing.” she admitted, “i mean, according to alisa.” 

he gave her a slight shake of his head, “it’s impossible to fully get it right with alisa. don’t lose your mind over it.” he told her, “nobody would know what to do if they were in your situation, and i highly doubt anybody could possibly handle this as well as you.” 

“i… .” she trailed off, unsure on how to respond, “yeah, alisa can be hard to please, i guess. ”  

she chose not to comment on anything else. she tried to keep her expression blank, like his words didn’t make her heart accelerate 10x faster.

jameson could tell she still wouldn’t believe the words he had said, how she was handling things, but he didn’t press the matter any longer.

“goodnight, then, heiress.” jameson gave her that lazy half-grin of his.

she hesitated for half a second, then she said “night, jameson.” 

then she turned and climbed back down the way she’d come.

when she was gone, jameson shifted to sit where she’d been, still close to the edge but not quite at it. the bar of dark chocolate lay on the ground forgotten, and he stared out at the horizon, now dotted with stars.

the rooftop felt bigger without her, quieter in a way he didn’t really like. but jameson stayed there, legs dangling over the edge, like he always did. 

jameson stared out into the sky and wondered— when had avery become not just part of the view; but part of the reason he kept looking?

tag list: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams 

@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm

@danni-1-graysons-version

[jeonsblackgf-writes]

Winnin’ you over | Eddie Munson

summary: eddie knows no such thing as giving up. he sure has shown you. (takes place before pt. I)

warnings:

word count: 1,124

pairing: Eddie Munson x black!reader

part I

——————————————————————————————

Eddie Munson had a lot of confidence—or at least, that’s what he told himself. Confidence was key when you were the self-proclaimed king of the freaks, the Dungeon Master of Hawkins’ finest misfit club, and the lead guitarist in a band that sometimes sounded like music. But all that bravado flew out the window the first time he saw you.

It was during lunch in the cafeteria. Eddie had been mid-rant about how D&D wasn’t “the devil’s work” when you walked by, laughing with a friend. He froze, his hands halfway to the air in a gesture of exasperation, and completely forgot what he was saying.

“Dude,” Dustin had whispered, nudging him. “What are you doing?”

Eddie ignored him, his eyes glued to you as you moved through the cafeteria like you owned it. Everything about you was magnetic—your confidence, your smile, the way you casually brushed off the stares of half the student body.

That day, Eddie Munson decided two things:

1. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

2. He was going to make you his.

Eddie’s first attempt was, in hindsight, not his best.

You were sitting in history class, diligently taking notes, when a folded piece of paper slid onto your desk. You glanced around, your brow furrowing, before unfolding it.

The note read:

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again? – Eddie Munson (aka, the guy in the back with the killer smile)”

You turned in your seat, locking eyes with him for the first time. Eddie gave you a crooked grin and a little wave.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching with amusement, before turning back to the front of the class. You didn’t write back, but Eddie swore he saw you smile.

When the bell rang, he darted up to your desk. “So? Did it work?”

“Did what work?” you asked, stuffing your notebook into your bag.

“The note,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “My carefully crafted pickup line. On a scale of one to ten, how swoon-worthy was it?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Hmm… about a six.”

“A six?” he repeated, clutching his chest. “That’s harsh.”

“Maybe try a seven next time,” you said with a grin before walking away.

Eddie watched you go, a determined glint in his eye.

Most people would’ve given up after the note incident. Eddie Munson was not most people.

A week later, you were standing by your locker, swapping books between classes, when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned to find Eddie, guitar in hand, looking both ridiculously confident and slightly terrified.

Before you could ask what he was doing, he launched into a dramatic performance.

“I wrote this song just for you,” he declared, strumming the first few chords.

His voice wasn’t half bad, and the song—about a “queen in a world of peasants” who stole his heart—was surprisingly sweet. A small crowd gathered, snickering and whispering, but Eddie didn’t care. His eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time.

When he finished, he gave you an exaggerated bow. “So? Am I officially your favorite musician yet?”

You laughed, clapping politely. “That depends. Do you serenade every girl, or just me?”

“Only the special ones,” he said, grinning.

“Good to know,” you replied, your smile softening. “Thanks for the song, Eddie. It was… nice.”

“Nice?” he groaned, pretending to stumble back in defeat. “I poured my soul into that, and all I get is ‘nice’?”

You leaned in slightly, your voice teasing. “Alright, it was very nice. But you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

Eddie watched you walk away, a smirk tugging at his lips. He was losing, but he didn’t mind.

By now, Eddie was starting to feel desperate. You weren’t exactly rejecting him, but you weren’t saying yes, either. So he decided to pull out all the stops.

One Saturday afternoon, he showed up outside your house with a mixtape in one hand and a slightly lopsided bouquet of daisies in the other. He knocked on the door, his heart pounding, and waited.

When you opened it, your eyes widened in surprise. “Eddie? What are you doing here?”

“I come bearing gifts,” he said, holding up the mixtape.

You took it, reading the label: “Songs for the Queen of Hawkins High”.

“And these,” he added, thrusting the daisies toward you. “Technically, they’re from Mrs. Cunningham’s yard, but don’t tell her that.”

You laughed, taking the flowers. “Eddie, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming?” he offered.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t hide your smile. “Why are you doing all this?”

“Because I really fucking like youyou,” he said simply, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re smart and funny and beautiful, and you don’t care what anyone thinks. And I know I’m probably not your type or whatever, but… I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

Your smile softened, and for a moment, Eddie thought you might actually say yes. But instead, you stepped back and said, “Thanks for the flowers, Eddie. And the tape. I’ll give it a listen.”

Then you closed the door, leaving him standing on your porch with his heart in his hands.

A few days later, Eddie was sitting on the hood of his van in the school parking lot, strumming his guitar and feeling sorry for himself. He’d done everything he could think of, and you still hadn’t said yes.

He was mid-riff when he heard a voice behind him.

“Is this your sad boy routine?”

Eddie turned to find you standing there, holding the mixtape he’d given you.

“Hey,” he said, setting his guitar aside. “Did you listen to it?”

“I did,” you said, walking closer. “It was actually really good. I didn’t know you had such good taste in music.”

“Guess I’m full of surprises,” he said with a weak smile.

You stopped in front of him, your eyes searching his. “Eddie, can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he said.

“Why me?”

Eddie blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean, why you? You’re you. You’re amazing.”

You crossed your arms. “You barely know me. What if I’m not as amazing as you think?”

He stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Then I’ll just have to get to know the real you. But I don’t think you’ll disappoint me.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, your expression unreadable. Then, to his complete surprise, you smiled.

“Alright, Munson,” you said, holding out your hand. “One date. Don’t make me regret it.”

Eddie’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “You won’t. I promise.”

And just like that, Eddie Munson’s life changed forever.

[lavenderclownwritesanddraws]

I Really Want to Stay at Your House (Jamil X V! Reader, Cyberpunk AU)

This fanfiction contains mild spoilers for character interactions in Cyberpunk 2077.

In Cyberpunk 2077, the main character is V. they're currently a mercenary trying to survive in the chaos of Night City.

If you' re wondering about Johnny—well, he’s the personality living rent-free in your cyberware implant. Johnny Silverhand was a legend in Night City, known as both a terrorist and a rockstar, and he died decades ago. Now, he exists as a digital ghost in your head. He can talk to you and even appear in your vision sometimes, which is… an experience, to say the least.

Over time, Johnny and V build an unlikely friendship, leaning on each other to make sense of all the chaos and sacrifices that come with life in Night City.

This fanfiction references the in-game event I Really Want to Stay at Your House and the moment when you let Johnny take control of your body for a day. Unsurprisingly, Johnny being Johnny, he goes overboard—drinking too much, hitting up a strip club, picking up a stripper, and then crashing your car. Yes, all while in your body.

Trust me, listening to I Really Want to Stay at Your House will hit differently after reading this.

I Really Want to Stay at Your House (Jamil X V! Reader, Cyberpunk AU, The Lovers Progression)

The door to V’s apartment slid shut with a dull thud, and she exhaled slowly as if releasing the weight of the entire city from her shoulders. Each step felt like wading through quicksand. The day—or rather, the day Johnny had taken from her—was a blur of flashing lights, noise, and pain. Her head pounded, and the sour taste of alcohol lingered on her tongue, making her grimace. She rubbed her temples, willing herself to focus.

Empty. The apartment was mercifully empty, or so she thought. Relief washed over her. The last thing she wanted was for her partner, Jamil, to see her like this—hungover, bruised, and barely standing. She kicked off her boots, the sound echoing in the stillness. Just a few steps more, and she could collapse into bed and forget this nightmare ever happened.

“Didn’t think you’d make it back in one piece.”

The voice, low and deceptively calm, sent a chill down her spine. V froze, her eyes darting to the dimly lit kitchen. There he was, leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. Jamil Viper. His dark eyes, always sharp and unreadable, watched her with an intensity that made her stomach churn. His hair, dark and slightly disheveled, framed his face, casting shadows that only made him look more imposing. The soft glow of his tech implants along his forearms pulsed rhythmically, like a predator’s heartbeat along the oversized jacket she had seen him wear so many times.

“Jamil…” V’s voice cracked, and she winced at how pathetic it sounded.

He pushed off the counter with a grace that belied the tension in his movements, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her. His gaze swept over her, taking in every bruise, every unsteady breath. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, forcing a weak smile. “Really needed to hear that.”

He stopped a few feet away “Care to explain?” His tone was deceptively mild, but she knew better. Beneath it lay a storm waiting to be unleashed.

V ran a hand through her hair, wincing as the motion sent a fresh wave of pain through her head. “It’s… a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” He tilted his head slightly “I’ve had plenty of time, actually. Watching your biometrics spike and crash in real-time tends to do that.”

Her heart sank. “You were tracking me?” She should have known better. The Top Netrunner for the Asim Corporation’s Counterintelligence Division didn’t just sit idle when his partner was out self-destructing.

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t act so surprised. I had to know you weren’t dead.” His voice dropped, soft but deadly. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you spiraling into alcohol poisoning, adrenaline surges, and then flatlining in a crash. Care to enlighten me?”

He was close now, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. His dark hair fell around his face, framing eyes that burned with a mix of fury and hurt. She’d seen him angry before—sharp-tongued, sarcastic—but this was different. He was quiet and controlled, and that made it infinitely worse.

V took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I… let Johnny take control.”

Silence. The kind that felt like a knife pressed against her throat.

“Ah,” Jamil said finally, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. “So, you handed your body over to that ghost in your system. To drink, to gamble, to crash your car. Am I missing anything, or is that the whole highlight reel?”

V stepped past him, moving towards the couch, needing to sit before her knees gave out. She dropped onto the cushions, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

Jamil followed, his footsteps slow but deliberate. He stopped in front of her, then leaned down, placing his hands on either side of her head. “Then how was it supposed to go, V?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, and his breath brushed against her ear. “Tell me.” Each syllable turned into ice piercing through her.

She didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze head-on. “I thought he needed a break. I thought giving him one day would… help.”

Jamil’s jaw tightened, and he pushed off the couch, pacing. The controlled movements betrayed his simmering rage. “Help? Him?” He turned back, eyes blazing. “At what cost? You come back like this—hungover, bruised, and broken—and I’m supposed to accept that you did this for him?”

“It was a mistake,” she said, her voice firm. “One I won’t repeat.”

“Damn right, you won’t,” he snarled back, but there was no satisfaction in his tone. Slowly, he returned to the couch and sat, inches away from her, his elbows resting on his knees. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” His eyes softened, the harsh lines of his face relaxing ever so slightly. “Every time you throw yourself into these situations, you drag me along for the ride. I can’t… I won’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself.”

V nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. And I’m sorry. I can’t undo what’s done, but I can promise it won’t happen again.”

Jamil leaned closer, his hands resting on the back of the couch, effectively caging her in. “Do you think I want your promises?” He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping. “I want you. Alive. Here. Not a shell.”

“I’m here now,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I’m here, and I’m listening. I’m not running.”

He studied her for a long moment as if searching for a lie hidden in her words. Then, slowly, he leaned back, giving her space. “Good,” he said, his tone softer. “Because I’m tired, V. Tired of chasing after you, tired of feeling like I’m one step away from losing you.”

V reached for his hand, their fingers intertwining. “I know.” Her grip tightened. “I’m tired too. But I’m still here.”

He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “Next time, you think about him, think about what you’re risking.” He glanced down at their joined hands. “Because I won’t let you go without a fight.”

—————————————————————

The kettle’s soft whistle broke the silence, a subtle contrast to the rain pattering against the windows of the dimly lit apartment. Jamil moved precisely, pouring the boiling water into a mug. The faint aroma of spiced tea filled the air, warm and calming, in sharp contrast to the tension between them. V sat on the couch, her head resting against her hand as exhaustion clung like a heavy cloak. She’d endured plenty of rough nights, but tonight felt different—heavier somehow.

Jamil approached her, the mug in one hand, a medkit in the other. His gaze, sharp and discerning, flickered over her face, taking in the bruises and shadows under her eyes. He handed her the tea, his voice low but firm. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

V took the mug with a quiet thanks, the warmth seeping into her fingers as she sipped. The tea burned her tongue slightly, but the spice and heat soothed her. She glanced at Jamil, who was already settling beside her, opening the medkit with practiced ease.

“Let me see your arm,” he said, not waiting for her to comply. His hands, steady and meticulous, worked to clean and dress the scrapes on her forearm. His movements betrayed no hesitation, but she could feel the weight of his focus—a quiet intensity that always made her chest tighten.

As his fingers brushed against her skin, she winced. “You don’t have to patch me up every time, you know.”

He didn’t look up. “Clearly, you can’t be trusted to do it yourself.”

“Ouch,” Johnny’s voice broke through, sarcastic as ever. His flickering hologram appeared in V’s peripheral vision, leaning nonchalantly against the edge of the coffee table. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a regular househusband here. Never thought I’d see the day.”

V sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Johnny, not now.”

“What? Just calling it like I see it,” he replied, smirking. “Guy’s got more patience than anyone I’ve ever met. Even if he does look like he’s plotting your funeral half the time.”

V shot him a glare, muttering, “Says the man who got us both into this mess.”

Jamil let out a soft sigh, his shoulders rising and falling with the movement. He’d long since learned that addressing the engram only prolonged the chaos. Instead, he fixed his gaze on V, his expression calm but with a hint of weariness.

“You’re talking to him again.” It wasn’t a question.

“Occupational hazard,” V muttered, taking another sip of tea. She glanced at Jamil, her eyes softening. “But he’s not the one here. You are.”

Jamil’s gaze flicked over her, and though his expression remained composed, the faintest trace of a smile ghosted across his lips. “Let’s get you to bed before your occupational hazards get the better of you again.”

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

The bedroom was dark, lit only by the soft, amber glow of a shaded lamp on the bedside table. The rain outside drummed gently against the windows, its rhythm a calming counterpoint to the ever-present hum of Night City’s neon chaos. The air was warm, tinged faintly with the herbal scent of Jamil’s tea from earlier. V stood by the wardrobe, shrugging out of her jacket and letting it fall onto the back of a chair. She glanced over at Jamil, who was already in the middle of changing.

He tugged off his oversized jacket first, hanging it with practiced precision over the arm of a chair. Beneath it, his tank top clung to his lean, muscular frame, revealing the taut lines of his shoulders and the faint definition of his arms. He moved with the same fluid grace that always caught her attention—every gesture measured and precise, betraying the discipline and control that defined him.

When he reached for the hem of his tank top, V couldn’t help but watch as he pulled it over his head, revealing smooth, dusky skin and the faint sheen of sweat from the day’s tension. The sharp contours of his back shifted as he stretched, and her eyes caught on the small, dark insertion port at the base of his cervical spine. The port gleamed faintly in the dim light, a stark contrast against the unmodified perfection of his skin.

He pulled on a clean black T-shirt, the fabric stretching briefly over his broad shoulders before settling into place. The outfit—a plain tee and loose joggers—was startlingly casual for someone who always seemed so put together, but it suited him. He looked comfortable, a rare sight that made her chest tighten.

Jamil glanced at her briefly, raising a brow. “Done staring?”

Caught, V smirked and turned away to finish changing. When she turned back, Jamil was already lying in bed, his back propped against the pillows, a datapad resting on his lap. His legs stretched out beneath the covers, his body relaxed as he scrolled through updates. The glow of the screencast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the elegant curve of his jaw and the faint hollows beneath his cheekbones.

The neon light from the city outside slipped through the curtains, fracturing into streaks of red and blue across his face. He looked almost otherworldly in the mix of colors, his sharp features softened by the cozy surroundings. V took a moment to study him—this rare, unguarded version of Jamil. His brow furrowed slightly as he read, his lips pressed into a thin line of concentration.

Something in her stirred. She crossed the room quietly, slipping into bed beside him. The mattress dipped under her weight, and he glanced at her, his expression softening as she settled against the pillows.

“Work updates?” she asked, nodding toward the datapad.

“Just catching up,” he replied, his tone as even as ever. “I returned early today to… make sure you came back. Now I’m behind.”

The faint rebuke in his voice made her wince, but she saw the flicker of relief in his eyes when he looked at her again. She wanted to say something—something light, something to dispel the lingering tension—but instead, she moved closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her forehead to his side.

Jamil froze for a moment, caught off guard, before setting the datapad aside. His hand rested lightly on her arm, his thumb brushing idly against her skin. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her words muffled against his shirt. “For scaring you. For making you worry.”

His hand stilled for a moment before resuming its gentle motion. “You say that now,” he said, his tone tinged with a faint bitterness. But there was no anger there—only a quiet, aching vulnerability. “Don’t make promises you cannot keep.”

“I’m trying,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ll try harder. For you. For us.”

His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He tilted his head slightly, resting his chin lightly on her hair. For a moment, the only sound was the rain outside and the faint hum of the city beyond the glass.

“Just… be careful. I don’t care how hard things get. Just come back.” he said after a long pause.

V tightened her hold on him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll do my best,” she whispered. “I promise.”

He sighed, his body relaxing slightly against hers. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the glow of the city painting the walls around them in fractured light.

Eventually, Jamil shifted, pulling the covers up over both of them. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice a murmur. “Tomorrow will be better.”

“Get some rest, V,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple. She nodded against him, letting her eyes close. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of Jamil’s breathing.

[kiko---random-stuff-probably]

Infection

How Kallamar got his scar on his left eye.

For context: Kallamar is seveteen and got recruited by Shamura (who is around 30).

Kallamar did not expect, after being recruited by War themselves as a poisoner, to be in any way met with open arms by the other soldiers, for several reasons.

First of all, he was not a warrior. He only stepped foot on the battlefield after everything was done, and some of the soldiers considered him way too fragile and weak to actually help.

Second, he was a foreigner, and had some problems with the language barrier, even if luckily he came from a place where Silk Cradle's language was pretty used and he even read it on some medical tomes. Still, he had a certain accent (that he was actively trying to lose) and some words were still unknown to him. He was pretty sure thatsome soldiers referred to him with a slur, bbut he was not sure. He wasn't the only foreigner in Shamura's army, but this was not going to stop it.

Also, the fact that he poisoned his ex village was considered by a lot of soldiers as a clear sign that he was, and he could quote the exact words a soldier used behind his back, "a psychotic piece of shit who will not hesitate to stab the Spider's back". Which, obviously, was not true: he had no reason to hurt Shamura! After all, they gave him a home, a role, hot food and sometimes they even talked to him! Way mroe than anything he could had ever wish for!

So, he knew he was not in any way welcome there.

Still, slashing his left eye was a little too much.

Right now, Kallamar was sitting on a brand bed in the medical bay, holding an hand over his now bandaged face.

The doctor was reassuring, once again, that his wound was not going to get infected and that he was going to have a quick recovery, before excusing herself and leaving when Shamura entered.

War glanced at the squid, their expression indecifrable and cold. Disappointed, maybe.

Kallamar looked at the ground, as his mind started to race.

- I was informed of what happened. I still want to hear your side.-

- I didn't... I was not the one to start it.-

- I have no doubt in that, but I still want to hear your version.-

Kallamar was shaking, as he tried to find the words.

- I didn't... I was just... they attacked me out of nowhere, and said i had to "earn my right to live" and things like that, and others were inciting them, and... and... and they had a knife, and...- he was more than omce interrupted by a few sobs - I was scared... I couldn't...-

- You managed to take their knife away and then stabbed your opponent, right?-

- They putted it down, saying something about "a fair fight", and I knew they could had easily snapped my back, I just...-

- You stabbed them in the neck. Precisely in the carotids.-

Kallamar still didn't loook at them.

- And than you stabbed them other fifteen times. Some of the soldiers even report that you started laughing during your rampage.-

Kallamar holded back a sob. As they needed another reason to hate him. He was going to be executed, or thrown in the prison at best. All for a stupid fight.

- I really can't see why you were scared. Honestly, I'm impressed.-

Kallamar looked at the spider, trying to catch an underlying sarcasm. Instead, he found something akin to pride - Do not worry, I am not mad about their death, it was self defense after all.-

- I killed them.-

- They attacked first with the intention to kill you. I can forgive your reasonable outburst of adrenaline. We will have to work on your emotion management and teach you how to incapacitate an opponent without killing them, even if I doubt someone else will decide to try something similar to this.-

Kallamar was sure he must had misheard them.

-... Why aren't you mad? You should be mad that I was the one who survived. You should...- towards the end, he slipped in a swear word in his language.

Shamura's expression was filled with genuine confusion.

- Why would I be mad about that...? You are an important asset in my army and also a good kid with a promising future. I would had been really upset if you actually died.-

Bullshit. They must be lying. He was just a stupid weakling who could not do anything right and who's only role in life was to die and-

- Regardless of whatever your old village made you believe, you matter as much as anyone else. I'm happy you're alive, kid.- the spider gently patted his head, and that was it.

The squid bursted into tears, overwhelmed.

War let him cry, fully knowing how much he needed it.

[merlincmgirl]

Masturbation - Tech x FReader - NSFW

Summary: When you wake up feeling a bit needy and an empty bed, you go off to find your handsome trooper to help you. Only he's got a few ideas of his own for you to try.

Characters: Tech

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 4,208

Warnings: masturbation, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjobs, praise, dirty talk. I think that's it really, if there's anything else, please let me know!

Author's Note: So once I began writing for this one, it just seemed to all flow out of me. I wrote it a bit softer than I thought I would, but Tech deserves all the love and softness in the galaxy.

It had awoken you from a blissful sleep. Heat rolling over you as small cramps pulsed between your legs. You didn’t need to reach in your underwear to know that you would be wet. Whatever you were dreaming about had certainly seemed to arouse you enough that you were feeling needy.

Luckily for you, your boyfriend was readily available to help you out and give you some much needed release. However all you found was cool sheets and an empty bed. Tech had slipped out a while ago it seemed. Normally you would be the one who encouraged and cajoled him back into his bunk with you. It was something his brothers were very thankful to you for; Tech didn’t get enough sleep as it is, but he could never say no to you.

It helped that you couldn’t sleep without him. Every time you slid into bed, he would wrap himself around you, warmth pressed against you as he whispered softly into the quiet atmosphere of his bunk. It didn’t matter what he was saying – sometimes it was facts he had found out that day, a new project he was doing or, stories about different cultures and communities – his voice was always the one that lulled you to sleep.

But now, it seemed that instead of drifting off for a few hours himself before it was his turn on watch, he had instead slipped out of bed and was somewhere on the ship.

You warred with yourself about going to find him, but the pulsing need between your legs was enough to convince you. Just the memory of those long, dexterous fingers curling inside of you had you biting your lip on a moan and clamping your thighs together. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down with, you quietly got out of Tech’s bunk, careful to not disturb the other sleeping troopers around you.

There was only one place that Tech would be if he wasn’t in the bunks. The doors swished open as you walked into the control room. Tech was lounging in the pilot’s chair, long legs swivelled around to rest on the co-pilot’s chair. His eyes didn’t leave the piece of machinery in his hand that he was tinkering with, but he still removed his legs for you to sit down.

“You’re up late, cyare” Tech remarked, glancing up briefly to take you in. “couldn’t sleep?”

Sending him a soft smile, you leant your head on your hand, taking him in. “Something like that. You weren’t in bed when I woke up” you chided, raising an eyebrow at him. Tech didn’t sleep much as it was, and you worried just how long he could go before it all caught up with him.

Tech blinked, looking up at you now and frowning. “I apologise, I had an idea about how to improve the propulsion thrusters of the ship. You looked so peaceful, I did not want to wake you” Tech explained, stopping his tinkering and turning his attention to you.

“Thank you, love” you smiled, feeling the ache thrum through you now that you were sitting next to your lover and how thoughtful and adorable he had been.

“You have not told me why you are out of bed. Was it another nightmare?” he frowned, placing the contraption down and reaching to squeeze your knee. Nightmares were a common enough occurrence for everyone aboard the Marauder. It wasn’t unusual to have your fair share of them as well, especially as you’ve been by their side throughout the war.

“No, not this time. I actually had a really good dream” you admitted, lips pulling into a teasing smile as you squeezed your thighs together. Already you could feel the slick soak into the material of your pants.

“Oh, what was this dream?” Tech asked, his eyes running up and down over you, scanning your face as he catalogued every minute expression. He must have seen something he liked because his breath hitched a little.

“Hmm, you know, I can’t really remember the details but I know that I woke up feeling very, very wet” you grinned, parting your legs slightly so his hand fell to your inner thighs. “Do you want to feel?” you smirked suggestively, trailing your hand down your body until you reached the hem of your sleeping shorts.

Tech’s eyes went wide, everything in his mind screaming at him to lean forward, yank off your pyjamas and pull your legs wide so he could see just how wet you were. However, a thought popped into his head, it was the perfect opportunity to collect data to confirm his research as well as tick something off his kink list. There was a number of things he still wanted to try, but this was the perfect opportunity for one of them.

Sliding his hands up your thigh until he could feel the heat of your core through his gloves. He could just imagine how wet you were underneath your shorts and pants. “Cyare, may I request something different this time?” he asked, eyes rising to meet your curious but loving ones.

“Of course you can Tech, this is a partnership. You’re free to express your wants as well” you reminded, hands slipping to entangle in his own. It had been something you were determined to teach the boys, putting their happiness first and that it was okay to have wants and needs that went against their training or orders. It was still an uphill battle some times, all of them stubborn and loyal to a fault, but you were getting there, especially with Tech.

He used the hand entangled in his to tug you up from the chair and pull you into his lap. Helping you settle against him, you couldn’t help admire his beautiful brown eyes through his goggles. They were beautiful, and warm and reminded you of the hot chocolate that you used to make with your grandma whenever the weather turned cold.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tech frowned, hands coming to rest on your hips as his thumb rubbed soothing circles into your shorts.

Unable to help it you let out a little giggle at the stupidity of the genius clone. “Because I love you, di’kut. Always have and always will” you muttered, resting your head against his.

Tech sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you close to him in the pilot seat. “And I haven’t even taken my clothes off yet” Tech remarked, lips quirking up into a small smile.

“Ha-ha, look who think he’s a comedian!” you retorted, rolling your eyes at him before pressing a swift kiss to his cheek. “Now come on, tell me what you were thinking about” you encouraged, cupping his face and stroking your thumb along his sharp jaw line.

“I want to see how we feel while we both mutually pleasuring ourselves in front of the other. From what I’ve found, my research indicates that it can be a very enjoyable and pleasurable experience for all involved. And the feel of someone’s eyes on you, watching you touch yourself can heighten your own pleasure” Tech explained, eyes eager behind his goggles as a blush filled his cheeks before heading south down his neck.

“You want us to get off in front of each other?” you stated, making sure that you had heard him correctly. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do it, you did, it would be a very fun experience for both you and Tech, but it was something that Tech had never brought up before.

“Technically, yes. Although if you do not wish to do this, we can continue with treating your night time urge in another way” Tech replied, heat rising through him as you ran your hands down his chest, resting on his racing heart.

The thought of it did excite you, the sight of him touching himself, jerking himself off to you, while he watched you do the same did have an appeal. But you thought about the ache in your core, the need to be filled and you warred with yourself. There was nothing to say that you couldn’t ride him in the next round.

But Tech so rarely asked for anything, especially for himself. So how could you deny him his request when you wanted to try it just as much as him.

“Alright then, how do you want to do this?” you agreed, leaning forward to press small kisses along his jaw and towards his ear lobe. Nipping it with your teeth had a full body shudder rolling through Tech. Giggling, you repeated the same on his other side.

“I want you sitting opposite in the co-pilot’s chair, cyare. Take these off” he murmured, tugging on your pyjamas. Just as you went to get off his lap to do as he asked, one of his large hands came to the back of your neck, pulling you down to meet his lips.

Tech always kissed like it was a new experience for him, always taking the time to map out your mouth, leave little nips and licks to your lips to encourage more moans out of you. His kisses were always something you adored, all encompassing and all consuming as you lost yourself to the feel of his lips against yours, bodies pressed close to the other.

“What was that for?” you breathed, panting slightly at the breathless kiss.

“Thank you, for agreeing to do this for me” he replied, voice shaking a little. He wasn’t unaffected by the kiss either.

Smiling sweetly, you cupped your lover’s face and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I’m doing this for me as well, Tech. I want to explore this with you” you assured him, nuzzling your noses together before climbing off his lap and stepping away. “But I think you should get naked too” you suggested, playing with the hem of your shirt teasingly.

“Yes, excellent suggestion, cyare” Tech nodded, stripping off his blacks in record time. He was so cute in how eager he was to try this with you.

Not wanting to leave him the only one undressed, you too pulled off your shirt and tugged down your shorts and panties, kicking them to the side. The cool air of the control room had you shivering a little, goosebumps raising along your flesh.

Taking a seat in the chair, you pulled your legs up to balance your heels on the edge of the seat, spreading them wide to give Tech the perfect view of your cunt. A flirtatious smirk crept over your face as you looked at him, his eyes glued to where you were leaking because of both the dream and Tech’s suggestion. “This what you had in mind, love?” you teased, hands drifting to your chest as your nipples pebbled in the conditioned air.

Tech’s eyes shot up to yours, blown wide behind his goggles and an awe expression on his face. He couldn’t believe one of his fantasies was coming to life right in front of him. You looked absolutely gorgeous spread out like this for him, and he could feel his cock start to harden more at the sight. He thanked the gods that he had already stripped his armour off for this watch. His codpiece would have been way too tight for any rational thoughts to stay in his brain.

“Yes… you look beautiful, cyare” he breathed.

You blushed at the sincerity in his voice. Not that he would lie to you, but sometimes it was hard to take in his loving compliments.

Deciding to distract yourself, you ran your eyes over Tech’s lithe but sculptured body. Taking him in, you enjoyed the way his muscles tensed and jumped under your heated look. Oh what you wouldn’t give just to touch him, or run your tongue down the contours of his chest.

Travelling lower, you allowed yourself to look at him, just as much as he had looked at you. The bronze skin of his half mast cock gave way to the dusty pink head at the top and you couldn’t help but bite your lip to contain your moan as you watched it twitch under your gaze. It seems that you weren’t the only one affected by the little game that you were playing. He was rapidly hardening under your gaze and you sent him a wild smirk. He blushed even more, hands coming to fidget with his goggles nervously.

“Going to record this, love?” you asked, excited to look back on the recording if he was. Tech was known to record nearly everything, a hobby of his. And you were no stranger to being his muse.

“If I may?” he asked, seeking your permission. With a nod from you, the red light on the corner of his goggles flickered and blinked into life. “Good, I want you to touch yourself for me. I want you to make yourself feel good” he instructed, legs widening as he adjusted his position in the seat.

Licking your bottom lip, you watched as his cock bobbed at the movement. You wished you could take him into your mouth, get a taste of him while he helped you seek your own release. But you had been told to touch yourself, and that was something you were good at.

If nothing else, you knew your own body, what brought you pleasure, what a swipe of your fingers could do. How a harsh tug on a nipple would feel and how to get you over the edge in record time. This would be something you enjoyed. So you started on your chest, giving teasing, barely there touches to your nipples, encouraging them to stiffer peaks.

As they hardened under your touch, you began to work them in your fingers, rolling the nipples in your fingers before squeezing and massaging your breasts. Pushing them together as you continued to feel the heat building and building in your body.

A small gasp left Tech, and you couldn’t help but grin wickedly at him. He always loved your breasts and thighs, preferring to squeeze them and mark them up with his mouth and fingers. So you sighed softly in return, letting the way his eyes run over you. It left a trailing heat in their wake but Tech was right, it was certainly adding to the pleasure of it all.

When your nipples were sensitive from your attentions, you slid your hands down your stomach. You kept your touches light and teasing, just enough to entice but not enough to get you really worked up. You wanted to get these together with Tech. So you trailed your fingers over your stomach and down to your hips, tracing patterns into your skin that you didn’t even think about, just doing what felt good to you.

“Mesh’la” Tech breathed, and you peeled your eyes open to see that Tech was staring at you, face flushed and mouth slightly open.

“I thought this included both of us touching ourselves, Tech” you prompted, tilting your chin towards the hard cock that was straining between his spread thighs.

Tech seemed to have forgotten about his own pleasure, too lost in watching you and seeing how your touches were electrifying you. It wasn’t easy to distract Tech, but you couldn’t help but feel a shot of pride shoot through you at how the way the normally controlled clone was unable to complete his own task.

“Come on, Tech. I want to see you touch yourself” you encouraged, letting out a groan as he finally – finally – began to touch himself.

Tech took himself in hand, his grip tight but not restrictive as he gripped the base of his cock. Realising that he needed lube to make this feel amazing, he reached into his belt and pulled out the bottle of lube he carried everywhere. Just in case. Drizzling some on his cock, he hissed at the cool temperature, but it did nothing to cool his desire as he began to stroke up and down his shaft. A small moan escapes from his lips, thoughts running wild of just how it would feel to sink into you. To feel just how wet you looked as he could see your glistening folds in the low light.

Unable to pull your gaze from him, you slid two fingers down between your legs, brushing against your bundle of nerves. It had you gasping, legs twitching a little at the spark that small touch sent through you. As you continued to tease your clit, you watched as Tech pumped his cock. It was a pretty cock, just like everything about Tech was pretty. His cock curved slightly, but was quite long and of a normal girth. It felt amazing inside of you, and you couldn’t wait to feel him. You’d pin him to the chair and ride him if you had to.

Honestly, just watched the way his skin began to flush, the sweat beading on his temple as he kept his eyes on you as well as pleasuring himself and the way his eyes couldn’t move from you had you feeling like you’d combust from this alone.

Deciding that you had enough teasing, you parted your lips, exposing your centre to him and making him groan out in want. Your fingers easily slid along your slit, you were soaked, slick pooling and collecting on the chair beneath you. Distantly you couldn’t help but feel sorry for whoever would be sitting in the chair next. You definitely would have to clean all of this up.

“Go on, cyare, push your fingers inside. I want to see you” Tech instructed, focus now on your entrance as you did what he said. He let out a small growl in answer to your cry as you pushed both fingers in. They were eased in due to how wet you were, the slick aiding in the stretch. “Good girl, mesh’la” Tech breathed, gulping slightly as he ran a thumb over the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that was beginning to leak from there and spreading it down his shaft.

Hooking your legs over the arm rests to help keep you spread wide for him, you let out a tiny cry of Tech’s name, conscious to not be too loud. You didn’t want anyone coming in to disturb you. You began a teasing rhythm, pushing in slow and withdrawing fasts as you curled your fingers inside of you. When you realised that Tech was matching your pace, you felt your breath tighten in your throat and your cunt clenched around your fingers.

It must have been clear to see for Tech because he moaned your name, his other hand coming down to cup and cradle his balls for a moment before withdrawing. Slowing his hand down to match your pace once more, he let out a low groan at just how beautiful you looked all spread out before him, two fingers buried inside of you.

“You’re prettier than the stars above, cyare.”

Heat flooded your face at his words, feeling the way his compliment sunk into your skin. Every time he complimented you, it made you feel so beautiful and loved. Tech would never lie to you, so if he told you that you were beautiful and pretty, then he meant every word. It was spoken as fact, and Tech was rarely wrong.

“Tech! You can’t say stuff like that” you gasped, hips bucking into your hand as you pressed another finger inside of you.

“Why not?” he frowned, fearing he had upset you.

“Because how am I meant to think when you say stuff like that” you whined, finding that sweet spot inside of you as you began rocking against your hand. The other slid down to rub at your clit, making you flutter around your fingers some more.

“Fuck Tech!”

Forcing your eyes to stay open, no matter how much you wanted to close them and sink into your pleasure, you watched as Tech began to massage and roll his balls with one hand, the other continuing to pump his leaking length. Oh why did he have to suggest this? You wanted to touch him, you wanted to kiss him and feel just how much you were affecting him.

After waking up half ready to orgasm, and your teasing touches and the mouth watering sight before you, you could tell that you were close to the edge. But there was something you need. You needed Tech. You didn’t know if you could fall over the edge like this. But Tech could always give you mind shattering orgasms, even when he was pushed for time, he always found a way to satisfy you.

“Won’t you help me? You know I don’t like getting off on my own” you pouted, hoping that would convince him to come over here and fuck you through the chair.

“Just a little longer, cyare. You can do that for me, right? I want to see you fall over the edge just watching me stroke my cock to you” Tech panted in encouragement, nearing his own end.

“Please!” you begged, increasing the pressure on that spot inside of you and rubbing at your clit in a way that you knew would push you over the edge. So why was it not doing so now? You wanted to cum. Wanting to adhere to Tech’s lustful words, but it was like you were dangling over a precipice.

“Cum for me” Tech growled, keeping his eyes firmly on you as he bucked up into his hand, teeth gritted as he tried to hold off his own orgasm.

“Tech!” you whined, feeling your release flood through you, legs shaking and panting for breath as your body pulsed with pleasure. It seemed all you needed was his permission before you could fall over the edge.

It took you a moment to realise that Tech was cumming to, his load shooting up to splatter as far as his chest. Both of you were unable to move, just soaking in your releases and slumping boneless against the chairs. Your whole body felt so sensitive, so alighted with the rush of endorphins that came with amazing orgasms.

After a while, you startled as Tech moved, reaching into his belt pouches and crawled over to you. He carefully and reverently washed you down, mindful of how sensitive you still were. With gentle touches, he made sure that you were clean before looking up to smile at you.

Taking a wipe off him, you began to clean him up also, keeping your touches tender and careful as you slid the soft material against his cock. It twitched at your actions, making you giggle and press a kiss to his lips.

“Do you know what, love? I think you were right. Having you watching added to everything” you admitted, running your hand through his hair as he stood up. He scooped you up in his arms, before taking a seat in your chair and holding you on his lap.

“I am glad you feel the same way as I do, cyare. It seems that this endeavour was a success. I look forward to reviewing the recordings when I collect my data” Tech agreed, kissing along your shoulders and up to your neck.

“Maybe we could look at those recordings together sometime? I think that would be really, really hot” you breathed, turning to catch his lips with yours. Tech cupped your face, holding you steady as you kissed, letting all your feelings show in the way you kissed him back.

“I am always open to suggestions, cyare” he chuckled, pulling back just to hold you even tighter against him.

“Think you’ll be able to sleep now?” you wondered, glancing at the clock on the control panels.

Tech sighed, shaking his head before agreeing that it was probably for the best if he could get some sleep. And besides, it was nearly time for Wrecker to take the watch.

“Alright, lets get dressed and clean this place up. We don’t want anyone getting the shock of their lives do we” you grinned teasingly, climbing out of his lap and already reaching for the wipes in his utility belt.

“I assure you, as soldiers, we’ve seen more shocking things than one of us making love to their cyare” Tech rolled his eyes, but helped you clean everything up before helping you step into your clothes.

“I know” you chuckled, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “How about we go and get some rest now, huh? You’ve worn me out without even touching me. That’s a hell of an accomplishment, love” you remarked, handing him the contraption he was tinkering with earlier.

“Believe me, you have also achieved that accomplishment, cyare” Tech smiled, taking your hand in his and leading you out to the bunks so he could wake Wrecker for his shift.

You felt pride swell in your chest. It had been a very successful night all round then. You were quite grateful for whatever you had been dreaming about. It couldn’t have worked out better if you tried.

[whatwouldvalerydo]

If we look back at the time stamp on this post many would be like "WTF". Mostly because I don't tend to advertise old posts and most of the times I tend to reblog stories or one-shots only once.

But I think it's time for the creator to take the chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by characters I created and talk about love. Not about a partner, but about love of creating.

So here I go.

"For more than a year now I have been struggling to sit in the center of a stage that is my own world really. I have taken a stand, way in the back, trying and forcing everything in my soul to be able to stand and still create something. Have I reached an epiphany? No. Am I still here? Yes.

Love for creating, writing, drawing, anything really, is courage. Courage to open ones heart and bleed out experiences and knowledge while also sacrificing time. Every part of your creation holds a piece of you. Love for creating is the ability and knowledge that once you do put something out there, it's a part of you.

Creators are puzzles. And each of us take a piece of the big picture and place it on a blank canvas. Sometimes we think we know where the piece should be, other times we are certain only to arrive the next day, look at it and shift pieces around. Love for creating is doing it until we are whole again, all the puzzles pieces fitting.

And then we move on to the next. Because love for creating is endless."

For this month of @hp-12monthsofmagic I decided to have all my characters and talk about what love is for them. Hope you like it.

A dim light is cast in the middle of an otherwise pitch black room. Eight chairs make a perfect circle, names written down on them. Somewhere in the distance a door opening is heard, several footsteps resonating against the floor as eight people make their way towards the chairs assigned to them.

Some of them exchange a smile, a small greeting, while others look around the room, not a word being offered. But they all know who each and every single one is. They all also know the assignment handed out, however no one wants to go first.

The sound of a lighter is heard, eyes turning towards Gareth Farr who just lit up a cigarette “So, how do we do this? From old to new, new to old, or perhaps the ones who have been more silent as of late would like to start?” he asked, eyes travelling towards Leila Hellebore, her letting out a low hiss “Now, now, why so rigid? We are here to talk about how we see love. The sooner you speak the sooner you can get this over with.”

“Then you do it.” She snarled, eyes averting towards the darkness surrounding them.

Lifting her hand, Victoria Summer smiled “I can go first, although Oli is usually better with words that me.” A light being cast on her, Victoria squinting her eyes, sheltering them with her hand “I know love is different for everyone, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s warmth, like a lazy summer afternoon in the middle of a glorious garden filled with the most exquisite scents.” The light above her started changing colors, a pink hue taking over “It’s trying, it’s about making a choice and never giving up.”

A scoff was heard from within the room, however Victoria did not even look at the woman, instead continuing “It’s about passion” the light above turning more towards red “in all its meaning. About finding in that certain someone the world. Overwhelming, but beautiful nonetheless. Gareth, you can continue.”

His brows lifted, him nodding his head only once “Certainly.” Sitting up straighter, he tried to ignore the bright light shinning above him “Love in my case is a lesson, a very hard one to learn. Unfair at times” the color changing to grey “but regardless it is rewarding. I believe I have loved truly only once in my life despite the number of partners I had or will have. Times certainly played a part, my status even more so. But love also came in a different form and it was then I learned that was enough as well. Love is kind, it teaches you, humbles you in ways you never thought possible. Love is a trickster, but I think it gives you just what you deserve or need, not what you want.”

His eyes circled the room, landing on Leila, however he nominated Angela King. Offering a shy smile around the room, she finally spoke “I don’t know much about it, I’m currently trying new things, taking a leap so to speak, but I think a leap is a good way of describing love. It has a power like no other force in this world, be it for family, a partner, a pet, oneself or a certain thing.” The light above her started turning yellow, Angela smiling “But it’s beautiful, it’s…it should be amazing despite the struggles you endure and take to get there. That’s what I think right now. Jin, would you like to try?”

“Of course.” He took a small bow, thanking her for her words before he told the room his own vision “I never really experienced love like you all. When I see and hear how the majority of you perceive it, I truly know there is a difference. I have several wives and have had several men in my bed during my existence, however that does not mean I do not understand love. It is just different for someone like me.” He looked up, squinting since the color did not change “It is about sacrifices, putting others first before yourself, selfless if you will. It should be effortless, a base, a stable one at that.” The hues of his light finally turning towards a light brown, Jin Watanabe shaking his head, eyes locking with Talia Crane.

“Don’t nominate me, I’ll go last.” She stated, Jin pointing towards Jonathan King.

Lifting his hand, he awkwardly waved at everyone “Love” a smile forming on his lips instantly as he thought about Lachlan “is for me and I have to agree with Jin, should be effortless, but it doesn’t always go like that. I think it takes time, time for one to realize exactly what they want from love. It should be easy, but it’s not. It’s messy, it’s about being up late and night thinking about someone, listening to songs and your mind going to that person and it’s confusing as Hell. But when it happens, there’s nothing that can compare to it. It’s like your entire body is filled with this energy, your soul burning for one thing and one thing only. It’s scary” the light above him shifting between blue and green as he spoke “but it’s like finding home in the eyes and arms of that one person.” The room remained silent, some nodding, Jonathan turning to Scarlett Tempest.

Flipping her hair back, she rolled her eyes “Of course you’d fucking nominate me. Fine, let’s play this stupid game. Love. It’s overrated, oversold, tacky.” Checking her nails she reached inside her bag pulling out a pair of sunglasses “This light has better not be with high UV. Now back to the matter at hand, I think that somehow despite all the shit in this world that it’s for everyone and each of us have someone set for them. Not a soulmate, but close. It should feel safe, it should be like falling for your best friend” she pointed at Jonathan “or finding that person again” she said pointing at Victoria “and yes, it’s confusing and some days you want to strangle them when they rant on about Pokemon and health points and skills in I don’t know what game, but it’s endearing as well. And love should feel like you belong. Leila dear?” the light above her turning green as she finished speaking.

“Call me dear one more time and I will hunt you like one.” She frowned when the light shined on her, however she started speaking “It is strong yes, that is the definition of love, strength. It is about making a choice and having the power to abide by that choice. Never easy, never without a struggle, but rewarding. When you finally reach that calm” blue shinning over her “and the certainty that no one can touch you as long as you are by their side, that is power. That is love. A roar inside one’s soul, stronger than magic, freeing. It is freedom.”

Looking over at Talia, she glared upwards when the light shinned upon her “Love.” She smirked, shaking her head “It’s nothing but trouble.” Looking over at Gareth, she asked for a cigarette, continuing to speak once one was lit between her lips “And it’s different every time, just like each person, never ever the same. It’s sad and cruel or at least we make it like that. A sentiment that disturbs the very depths of you.” The light shut down, darkness surrounding her “Fitting” she scoffed “so I will keep it short. Yes it fuels and consumes you. It elevates and it crumbles you to dust. It’s disturbing enough and we allow it. When you live long enough your perception changes. And I envy the mortals because most of them see the better part of it.”

Taking a long drag, smoke left her lips “But I have seen the light and the dark. There are good times too, I won’t lie, but I’m still trying to understand it. And the more I live, the more it eludes me. But then again I’ve always been a sucker for love, so I’m curious to see what will happen when and if my heart will ever decide not to love. Not to consume the one near me. We will see.”

“So you are saying love is bad and it changes as years progress? Do I have that right?” Gareth asked her.

“Depends who you’re with. It can suffocate you or help you to finally breathe, sometimes both. Odd no?”

“Very.” Jin spoke, being the first to get up, all lights going out, before a bright white light came on “I do believe we are done. And that we are also not yet done with our journeys. There is much to come, much to be felt. I can only hope the best for all of you and myself included. Now shall we? I believe my home is far better suited than this empty shell of a room. Let us go, I have more stories to tell. Leila, you too and do not hiss at me.” Smiling at the group, he turned towards the door they all walked through.

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

"I don't miss!"

I,, might've gotten a little carried away with gravhammer Donut, ya know, just a smidge

local artist not immune to putting their favorite in vaguely god-like finery

[hydrachea]

I can't stop thinking about Blade saying gifts are unfamiliar.

And I can't stop thinking about Kafka and Silver Wolf, hearing that, and making it a mission to bring him gifts whenever they travel somewhere for their script - even if he's there with them. About the confusion in his eyes when they steal buy something and turn right around to hand it to him.

About his room starting out completely empty except for the bare minimum necessities, a few spare clothes and what he needs to take care his Shard Sword, but filling up with little trinkets and gifts over time. Clothes and jewelry and perfume from Kafka and posters, figures and plushies from Silver Wolf. About them also bringing food back, expensive specialties swiped from a restaurant and the weirdest option they could spot in a lone vending machine, a category of gifts that doesn't leave anything behind (except the photos they both take of the three of them eating together, or of the faces he makes when Silver Wolf manages to trick him into trying a suspicious snack while he's distracted with polishing his weapon).

About Kafka spending hours finding clothes and jewelry she thinks would suit him, because that's her love language. She gets him makeup too, refusing to let his good looks go to waste. She knows he can't put it on himself, they both do, and he doesn't care for his appearance enough otherwise - but he'll let her do his makeup for him anyway, because she enjoys it, and because he finds it soothing.

About Silver Wolf also buying him clothes, but the ones she gets aren't his style at all, and just barely his size. She gets them for him, but just so she can steal them right back - her love language is quality time, and she fills Blade's room with gifts she can borrow along with a moment of his day. It still counts as a gift, she insists, practically swimming in an oversized jacket she swiped from his closet.

About how in another life, Yingxing gave gifts to the people he loved and in this one, Blade receives them from those who love him.

[melon-official]

She wails as though a part of her has died.

oh man. i picked up the sidestory to @just-a-carrot's five-arc horror epic a couple days ago and i'm so glad i did. i'll probably be talking nonstop and/or drawing about it for days

there's a handful of whiteboard doodles with other characters under the cut, but rly i just wanted to pay a homage to the scene that hit me the hardest... enjoy