#thIS IS SO ACC WITH THE SHOOK THING THOUGH

[sushiyuzu]

emotional support

warning: fluff + tension — your boobs become soft!sylus’ emotional support 🙈 [ x fem!reader ]

- second acc: @blushpawss

you were relaxing on the bed after a long day, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, when you heard the door creak open. without looking, you knew it was sylus. you could tell by the way he moved, the quiet confidence in his steps, the aura he carried everywhere he went.

“hey,” you greeted softly, glancing up at him with a small smile. “everything okay?”

he didn’t respond right away. instead, he just stood at the edge of the bed, his usual stoic expression fixed on his face. crimson eyes locked on you, but there was something softer in them, something vulnerable he rarely showed.

before you could ask again, he moved. in one swift motion, he climbed onto the bed, gently pushing you back until you were lying down. his movements were deliberate, yet there was no urgency—just a quiet need.

“sylus?” you asked, your voice holding a hint of confusion as he positioned himself on top of you, his head resting squarely between your boobs.

“don’t,” he murmured against your chest, his voice slightly muffled by your shirt. “just... let me.”

you blinked, caught off guard by how soft his voice sounded. usually, sylus was the picture of control, always so serious and composed. but right now, he was melting into you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if you were his lifeline.

“okay,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. “you wanna talk about it?”

he shook his head, his face completely buried in your chest now. “no. just need this,” he said, his breath warm against your skin. “need you.”

you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was being. despite his tough exterior, sylus always had this soft, clingy side when it came to you. it was a side he didn’t show to anyone else, a side he only let out when he felt safe in your presence.

“rough day?” you asked, your fingers automatically threading through his silver hair, stroking it gently.

“you have no idea,” he muttered, his voice muffled by your chest. “the meetings, the arguments, the constant surveillance... it’s exhausting.”

you chuckled softly. “and i’m your emotional support pillow now?”

“more like emotional support boobs,” he mumbled, pressing his face even deeper between your breasts, his voice filled with that rare, teasing warmth he only used with you. “they’re soft... and they’re mine.”

“oh, they’re yours, huh?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“absolutely, kitten,” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your skin as he spoke. “this is the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

you felt a warm flutter in your chest at his words, your hands continuing their gentle path through his hair. “well, if it helps, you can stay like this as long as you need.”

he didn’t reply right away, but the way his arms tightened around you spoke volumes. sylus was never the type to openly ask for affection, but you could always tell when he needed it. and when he did, he clung to you like this, as if you were his anchor in a world that constantly demanded his strength.

“i don’t deserve you,” he whispered after a long moment, his voice low, almost vulnerable.

you frowned, lightly tugging at his hair to get his attention. “hey, don’t say that.”

he finally lifted his head slightly, just enough to look at you with those intense crimson eyes. there was a flicker of something raw in them, something he rarely let anyone see. “i’m serious,” he said quietly. “you’re too good to me. i don’t know how you put up with me.”

you rolled your eyes, though your heart ached a little at how sincere he sounded. “because i love you, you idiot,” you said, smiling softly as you cupped his cheek. “and you’re not half as bad as you think.”

his gaze softened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, like he was memorizing your face. then, without warning, he dropped his head back down, once again burying his face between your boobs.

“whatever,” he muttered, his voice muffled again. “i’m staying here forever.”

you laughed, your chest shaking as you tried to wiggle beneath him. “sylus, you’re heavy!”

“deal with it,” he grumbled, nuzzling further into you. “this is my safe space now.”

“oh my god,” you groaned, though you were smiling the whole time. “you’re ridiculous.”

he didn’t say anything, but you could feel his lips curve into a small smile against your skin. for a man who always had to be serious and strong in front of others, sylus was the clingiest, neediest person when he was with you. and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“you know,” you said after a moment, “if anyone else saw you like this, they’d never believe it. mr. serious, always-in-control sylus, reduced to a cuddle bug.”

he made a low sound of protest, tightening his hold on you. “don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he mumbled. “this is just for you.”

your heart melted at that. despite all his tough talk, sylus had such a soft spot for you. you were the one person who could break through his walls, the one he trusted with his vulnerable side.

“i’m glad it’s just for me,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “i love this side of you.”

he didn’t say anything, but you felt his fingers gently trace the curve of your waist, his touch light and reverent. for a while, you both just lay there in comfortable silence, his body completely relaxed on top of yours, his face still nestled securely in your chest.

“don’t ever let me go,” he whispered after a long while, his voice soft, almost sleepy.

“never,” you promised, your hands still stroking his hair.

he sighed in contentment, his breathing slowing as he settled more comfortably against you. “good,” he muttered, his voice drowsy now. “i’ll always need you.”

you smiled, feeling a warm glow of happiness spread through you. “and i’ll always be here.”

he nuzzled you one last time before drifting off, completely relaxed and at peace in your arms. and as you held him close, you realized just how much you loved this man—the serious, strong protector everyone else saw, and the soft, affectionate, clingy sylus that only you knew.

[alwayscorvus]

A hug for a precious teammate

A hug for a precious teammate

malereader x Jiyan, fluff;

i already have an idea for a longer post ("normal" 4 my acc) but for now just a quick short. Jiyan can be a little out of character

He stood alone in the middle of a field, surrounded by emortia flowers. His green robes blew gently on the wind. With his back turned to you, he looked into a distance. Onto a horizon where an outline of Jinzhou city painted itself.

You approached him at a distance of few steps.

-I knew I would find you here.

Hearing your voice, chills went through Jiyan. But not the unpleasant ones, rather those of excitement.

He turned his head back, looking at you over his shoulder. Warm rays of setting sun gushed on both sides of his face, trying to escape past his figure. As a result, his face shimmered with a bright, yellowish glow of light. Messy strands of his hair (which, as always, managed to break out from not-so-perfect ponytail) flew in all directions. His facial expression represented surprise. You saw him taking a sudden gasp of breath after a spin. Yet, at sight of you, corners of his lips lifted slightly upward.

Even though an image in front of you was breathtaking, you put your focus on his eyes. They showed so many emotions. Sadness, grief, suffering. But also some sort of gratitude and relief.

A desire for touch, for warmth of another person.

You involuntarily spread your arms in an inviting gesture. And Jiyan instantly spun on his heel.

It took just a seconds. Jiyan immediately seized an opportunity. He ran into your embrace.

Before you had time to realize, your body was being squeezed tightly by a man's strong arms.

You looked down. Jiyan was stubbornly snuggling his head into your chest, avoiding eye contact.

-I'm sorry. I should be there with you.

You said with a genuine remorse. Now you deeply regretted not accompanying him today.

You knew that returning to the past by experiencing Riverside Games could be painful for your man. However, you hoped that if you let him go alone, he wouldn't be limited to only your company. And that he might be able to reintegrate with other rangers. On a different level -not only restricted to work and duties. Besides, this wasn't your festival.

That's why you decided to go to work.

However, after that decision, for a few good hours, you suffered with great guilt. You couldn't concentrate on your job. Especially after you found out that the festival got suspended. You were unable to complete any task properly. You were basically useless. To the point where your supervisor - Mortefi ordered you to leave.

Jiyan rapidly shook his head in denial. He didn't loosen his grip even slightly. You were slowly running out of breath. But you knew it was the only thing you could do for him at that moment.

-I planted a seed - he said quietly, slowly choosing his words - With Rover

-But I want to plant one with you as well - he added quickly, this time lifting his face up and looking directly into your eyes.

His golden orbs sparkled slightly with hope. Somehow like with an anticipation of approval.

-I know I know -you changed your voice to as calm and tenderful as possible- We are gonna do this

You placed your hands gently on his back and slowly began to make a circles on them. Trying as much as possible to soothe his nerves after today's events.

Jiyan dropped his head again and tightened his grip more. Even though, a second before you hardly believed that it was possible.

However, that gesture did awaken you. You looked around. And your eyes caught a glimpse of midnight rangers. Standing in the distance, guarding Knell Square. They weren't looking in your direction, not paying attention to you at all. Whether out of respect or ignorance.

But still, if this were to change, you had to do something.

Jiyan wouldn't want anyone to see him in such state. Especially his subordinates, to whom, as a general, he looked like a pure perfection. An example of someone unbreakable and with an unbelievable courage.

You were the first and last one to whom he deliberately showed his vulnerable side.

It wasn't often, because he mostly tried to play tough. Even outside of work, he felt a sense of responsibility. Though in this case, for the two of you. For your prosperity and well-being.

That just how his character was.

Sometimes, however, emotions took over him. Just like now. And Jiyan allowed himself to seek for a support in your presence.

With your right hand, you delicately grabbed his jaw and lifted his head up. His eyes were no longer glowing with ordinary sparkle. Shine came from a liquid that had accumulated inside them. Tears that he struggled hard to not let out.

-But we will get home first, okay?

Jiyan nodded and you leaned down to lovingly kiss his other cheek.

-Let's go - you said, moving away from him slightly and secondly putting one arm around his waist.

Jiyan tiredly laid his head on your shoulder and let you lead the way to your house. To your safe space.

[blushpawss]

black kitty, white kitty

warning: fluff + pet names — you convince soft!sylus to wear a black kitty costume to match your white kitty outfit for halloween 🩷🐾

main acc: @sushiyuzu

it was halloween night, and you had the cutest idea. you wanted sylus to wear a matching costume with you—something simple but adorable. you had already picked out your own outfit: a soft white kitty costume, complete with fluffy ears and a tiny, cute tail. the only thing missing was sylus dressed up as a black kitty, to match.

“come on, sylus,” you pleaded, holding up the black cat ears and tail with a hopeful smile. “it’s halloween. pleaseee?”

pretty please, you hoped.

sylus, with his usual serious look, stared at the costume in your hands. he didn’t look thrilled, but his crimson eyes softened just a bit as he looked at you, his kitten. “a kitty costume, huh?” he muttered, trying to hide a small smile. “you know i don’t do costumes.”

hmph.

you pouted, crossing your arms. “but it’s halloween! and we’ll match. you’ll be my black kitty, and i’ll be your white kitty.” you flashed him your most convincing smile, the one you knew he could never really say no to.

he sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. “fine,” he mumbled, grabbing the costume. “but only because it’s you asking, kitten.”

you clapped your hands excitedly, practically bouncing on the spot. “yay! i knew you’d do it!” you handed him the black cat ears and tail with a grin. “come on, let’s get you dressed up!”

sylus gave a small, resigned smile, letting you fuss over him. you gently placed the black kitty ears on top of his head, adjusting them so they sat just right. you could see a slight pink on his cheeks as he glanced away, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“look at you,” you giggled, stepping back to admire him. “you’re the cutest black kitty ever.”

he rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “cute?” he murmured, glancing down at you in your white kitty costume. “i think you’re just using this as an excuse to see me in something ridiculous.”

you laughed, reaching up to fix the little tail pinned to the back of his outfit. “maybe,” you teased, “but i think you look adorable.”

oh yes, he is.

his cheeks went a bit redder, but he didn’t argue. instead, he reached out, pulling you close with one arm. “if i’m your black kitty, then you’re my white kitty,” he said softly, his voice a little deeper, a little warmer.

you beamed up at him, feeling your heart flutter. “that’s the plan,” you replied, snuggling into his embrace.

“all right, all right,” sylus said, letting out a small laugh as he held you. “where are we going in these costumes, hmm? a party? are we going trick-or-treating?”

you shook your head, grinning. “nope! we’re staying right here.” you took his hand and led him to the living room, where you’d set up all sorts of cozy halloween decorations. “we’re gonna have our own halloween night in. just the two of us.”

he raised an eyebrow, looking around at the pumpkins, fairy lights, and soft blankets you had arranged. “i see,” he said, nodding slowly, though he seemed pleased. “so, just the two of us?”

“mm-hmm!” you nodded, leading him to the couch and patting the spot next to you. “we can watch scary movies, eat candy, and just be cozy.”

sylus sat down, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he pulled you close to his side. “that doesn’t sound too bad,” he murmured, his voice soft as he looked down at you, his eyes warm and gentle. “as long as i get to spend it with my little white kitty.”

you felt your cheeks warm as you snuggled against him, feeling safe and happy in his embrace. “and i get to spend it with my black kitty,” you whispered back, closing your eyes for a moment.

you handed him a bowl of candy, watching as he picked out a piece and held it up to your lips. “open up,” he said with a playful smile, his voice teasing but affectionate. you opened your mouth, letting him feed you the candy, and couldn’t help but giggle as he watched you with an amused look.

then you did the same, holding up a piece of candy to his lips. “your turn,” you said, smiling as he took a bite, his eyes never leaving yours. it felt so cozy, so right, just being here with him.

“not bad,” he murmured, licking his lips slightly as he gave you a soft smile. “though, you know… i could’ve gone my whole life without wearing cat ears,” he teased, tugging at one of the black ears on his head.

you laughed, shaking your head. “but you look so cute!” you insisted, reaching up to adjust the ears again. “i think this should be your new look.”

he chuckled, pulling you close again and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “only for you, kitten,” he whispered, his lips brushing softly against your hair. “only for you.”

he was right.

only for you.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening cuddled up together, sharing candy, laughing, and watching movies. every now and then, sylus would reach over to pull you closer, his arm warm and protective around you.

[melodic-haze]

... Arlecchino with a reader taller than her? Would that change anything? I'm so curious 😇

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader has a cock/strap referred to as such

☆ — NOTES: Can I say I tried to make this sfw first and then failed when I realised the potential

☆ — PARTS: Part 1 (you are here), Part 2

This is so fucking funny to me bc when you think ab it Arlecchino's acc REALLY fucking short without heels compared to her height ON heels

Don't laugh at her face ab it though unless you want death 🤷‍♀️

I'm like 5'5 I wish I was tall enough for Arle to have to look up at me :/

In all seriousness though I do think that she uses heels both as a weapon with those fuckass blades, but also as a way to seem taller and more intimidating—the cold, unfeeling Father that she wanted to present herself as, completely untouchable

When you're taller than her though?? God, without heels it gets her feeling things she hadn't thought she'd ever feel, let alone being taller than her WHILE she has heels on 🫶

She actually feels powerless, a feeling that is usually most unpleasant, and yet.......she actually finds herself liking the height difference as she looks up at you to actually look you in the eye

It'd wake up the undiscovered size kink she didn't even KNOW she had bc nobody else reaally made her feel sooo I mean yes ❗️ Something very much changes in her ☺️☺️☺️☺️

"Ah.. mn..!"

Long nails, practically talons at this point, threatened to break your skin as you pounded her insides relentlessly. Arlecchino was always such a good girl for you, taking whatever you gave her without a single complaint.

You couldn't help but deem yourself lucky, to witness such a docile, subservient side to her, considering the ever-so-stoic persona she dons. Not as if it stopped with you simply witnessing her majesty, no—you were the entire reason why she was pliant like this, a powerful figure practically turning herself into an obedient ragdoll for you to use for your own satisfaction.

Not as if you were selfish though. No, if anything, from the way she had often looked at you and the fact that she would much rather let her own actions speak in her stead, she enjoyed being used like this.

..Enjoyed it a little too much, actually.

There were times when you've seen her look up at you woth a dazed look in her eyes—the crimson crosses often scanned you up and down before looking away with a tint in her cheeks. Of course, it had confused you to no end; was there something she saw?

You only figured it out when she had decided to idly comment on your height one time when you had helped her with taking a book from the uppermost shelves, her heels gone in favour for comfort within the safety of your own home.

"You.. are rather tall," that's all she said, the same coat of rare pink on her cheeks before staring at you—at your hands—before shaking her head and walking away swiftly.

...

Actually, this might be the best time to test your hypothesis.

You sat up, putting your pace into an abrupt stop, as you placed your hands on the curve of her ass and kept her close.

As knee-deep in pleasure as she was, one could never take away the sudden instinct of alert observation, "Is.. mm.. Is there something wrong, my beloved?"

You shook her head, "No, no, just.. brace yourself."

"Why would-- ..!"

Her breath hitched as you lifted her into the air, her hands crossed onto your shoulders as she held onto you in shock. Not as if you gave her room for a reaction, anyway, since you had easily slammed back into her the next second.

The new upward angle paired with the closeness between the two of you had her practically seeing stars as you hit spots that she hadn't realised existed within her. Every time your cock plunged inside her pussy, the tip hit the deepest spots—ones you had only grazed when you really went rough with the Harbinger.

Not to mention her feet weren't touching the floor.

You had lifted her up, and with the height difference between you two, she was exactly she couldn't allow herself to be.

Powerless.

Considering the way she rolled her eyes with a groan before putting her head on your shoulder and biting your skin as you pounded her into the air, she actually fucking enjoyed it.

She'll have to assess.. everything later, but for now she didn't care. Not when you're having your way with her.

Moment you have her up in the air is the moment her mind goes I fear

Like you mean to tell her that she's?? Up in the air without her fucking power??? Because you're tall enough for you to just. Lift her up?????? Her feet aren't touching the ground and the realisation has her juices GUSHING out ohhhhmy god

Not just the fact that she feels so powerless with you, but the way that her feeling small in your arms = her feeling safe as well???? Like you're her barrier from the world that's done her wrong time and time again, the world that's taken the most important things—people—away from her. Being fucked like this in your arms helps her forget all those for a while and feel safe and small, like she's the one being taken care of this time instead of the other way around

She wouldn't be asking you to do this again though, mind you..........but she does look at you and sizes you up and really that's all you need as a notice of what she wants 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi! I'd like to request an emoji prompt for yan!Athena x fem!reader with the 🦉 and 🎮 ones! I understand if not; I love your work!

Remember to take care of yourself and remind you that you're so important!!

[🦉] - ‘’You think you're smarter than me, don't you? But let me tell you something, you are not. And the death of your little friends is proof of that.’’

[🎮] - "Do you think you can beat me at my own game?"

❝tw: mention of murder and implied kidnapping.

❝author's note: thank you!! I hope you like it and remember to take care of yourself as well!!

You had never seen the goddess of wisdom so furious.

Athena had shown various emotions since she brought you to this place. A temple of hers. The most common emotions were: disappointment and exasperation.

But never a fury so great that it could tear the heavens apart if she were the goddess of the heavens.

You couldn't help but feel small in front of her. Athena was generally a figure of calm authority, a presence that inspired reverence and respect. Yet now she stood before you like a storm about to break, her gray eyes blazing with an intensity you had never seen.

"How could you?" Her voice resounded through the temple, echoing off the marble walls and making the flames of the torches tremble, "I trusted you. I gave you time, even if I didn't have to, and you betray me like this?"

You shivered at the fury in the words coming out of the goddess's mouth.

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, to say that it wasn't your fault, that all you wanted was to go back to your old life and not be with her, but no words came out when you opened your mouth. Athena took this as a mockery and it only made her angrier. You could have sworn you felt the marble floor of the temple shake.

Athena took a step forward, and you almost instinctively backed away. The force of her presence was overwhelming, "I gave you a chance to prove yourself, to show that you were worthy of my trust. And what did you do? You wasted that opportunity trying to leave me."

Panic started to take over you. Her every word was like a blade, cutting off any hope of mercy. You tried to find your voice, but the gravity of the situation and the intensity of Athena's gaze made it impossible. Your lips moved without making a sound, a useless reflection of your will to defend yourself.

"But I should have known better than to give you freedom, to allow you to roam free. I made a mistake in doing that and I will make it right." Athena's words made you shiver, the determination in the goddess's icy voice giving you goosebumps.

Athena approached closer, her footsteps echoing heavily through the temple. You felt your heart beat frantically, and your mind was in a whirlwind of fear and regret. The glow of the torches reflected in her eyes, which looked like two silver flames of pure fury.

"You may have forgotten, but I have not," Athena continued, her voice now lower but no less threatening, "I remember every broken oath, every broken promise. And your betrayal will be remembered."

You finally managed to force some words out, "I... I just wanted to go back to my life... I didn't want to betray you!"

That seemed like the wrong thing to say, as Athena's eyes narrowed and she stared at you, "Go back to the miserable life you had before me?" You waved, even though it wasn't necessary, "Do you realize how insulting this is to me?!"

You knew that Athena did not forgive offenses, no matter how small. She was very proud and very similar to her father in that regard.

Athena shook her head, "You think you're smarter than me, don't you?" You opened your mouth to respond but Athena silenced you by raising a finger, "But let me tell you something, you are not. And the death of your little friends is proof of that."

Those words hit you like a physical blow. The mention of your friends brought back a wave of pain and guilt that you had tried to suppress. Your knees gave out and you fell to the cold marble floor, feeling the weight of Athena's accusations.

"You killed them!" You screamed, your fists clenching as anger took over your body. Athena raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't kill them. You did." She shrugged, "When you chose to reject me, reject the life you could have with a goddess. Do you think you can beat me at my own game?"

You shook your head, your eyes filling with tears, trying to erase the image of your friends' lifeless bodies. This was all a sick game for the entertainment of a sadistic goddess. Athena could pretend that she cared about you, that she wanted the best for you, but at the end of it all, she wanted you as a prize to be shown off.

Athena knelt and lifted your face with her soft hands, "They were side effects. A means to a necessary end." She stroked your cheek tenderly, "And a lesson for you to understand that you should never try to surpass me. Ever."

You closed your eyes, your lips trembling as tears fell down your cheek. Athena kissed your forehead.

"To fail is human." She said finally, her voice implacable, "But learning from mistakes is what separates the fools from the wise. You are a fool but I will give you another chance."

You didn't say anything, just opened your eyes and looked into the gray eyes of the goddess of wisdom. Athena smiled.

"And I'll make sure you don't try to be a smartass again."

[doggoboigaugau]

Stray dog (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Long story short: my old acc got terminated for no reason so I'm reposting all this💀👍

Summary: Soap invited Male Reader to join Ghost and his favorite documentaries about dinosaur fossils :D (Ghost very loves dinosaurs y'all cannot tell me otherwise).

Word count: 1950

Warnings: Nothing. It's all fluff this time.

You lost track of time and ended up stopping only when your whole body screamed at you to rest. Looking up from the training gears, you realized that there was no one left in the room. It was a habit of you to ignore everyone and everything surrounding you when it is not necessary, or maybe it’s more like a coping mechanism, since this little tricky skill prevented you from taking in redundant information, such as a close group of men joking around with each other.

This very common sight in the military and especially in the training ground always succeeded in rendering you uncomfortable, and a vague but stingy feeling prevails over your chest, sometimes so badly that it even made breathing difficult.

No matter how hard you tried to brush it aside, dismissing it as something trivial and irrelevant, you knew damn well the cause of it: You once wished to belong to a group of friends that were so close that you all would spend time doing everything together, going on mission, training, drinking, and getting drunk together at the bar. Obviously, it had never happened. It never would, judging from how every time it was only you who got left behind, drowning yourself in overpriced alcohol and your own overwhelming emotions.

It was pitch black outside as you left the training centre. You dragged your fatigued body back to the base of your Task Force, but surprisingly, in contrast to your current physical state, your mind felt empty for now. In a good way. No burdening streams of thoughts, not a single fuck given about how others saw you. You felt kind of free.

‘Guess it’s a good point for not being around people.’ On your sweat-strained face drew a genuine smile. Some people would think that it was weird to smile over something like this, not having any close people around you and just spending your entire day loitering around, doing something you considered to be productive but by no means enjoyable. To them, you were not living a life. You were only surviving through it.

Not that you would complain though. Nor were you in the position to be able to complain about it.

Your blurred vision and the dull pain in your chest reminded you that you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was almost 10 hours ago. Slowly making your way to the kitchen, you decided to turn a blind eye to the kitchen sink and approached the fridge, hoping that they’d be kind enough to leave you some leftovers.

What greeted you in the fridge confounded you as you looked at a carefully prepared dish wrapped in aluminum foil with a sticky pink note on top of it.

‘want to call ya 4 dinner earlier but ya seem to enjoy the training a lot. plz eat this when ya done with the training~’ was written on the piece of paper together with a little ugly and distorted heart shape, which made you chuckle. It was not difficult to guess who left this for you. You shook your head in amusement while putting the dish into the microwave oven.

Sitting down at the empty table in the dimly lit dining room, you slowly enjoyed the meal that Soap had saved for you. Then again, amid the quiet atmosphere that was free of any stimulations, your mind began to do the thing that it excelled in, drifting away. Your unusually calm thoughts appeared like a grainy film rolling before your eyes, replaying every delightful moment that you had shared with the Scottish and other team members, like when you, Soap, Gaz, and Roach pulled a whole prank on Price during your team’s vacation while Ghost sat behind and watched with amusement in his eyes. Or when you and Roach hid one of Price’s hats unknowing that it was a piece of memorabilia of his old teammate, and as result, making that poor old dad all stressed out finding it everywhere. Or when Price decided to catch you two and make you face the consequences of your actions that time and you were so scared that you never run that fast out of battle before. Or when you had no choice but to hide behind Ghost as he was watching his favorite boring documentaries, and he looked down at you obviously contemplating whether he should help you or not as you tried to convince him with your big puppy eyes. Or when you disobeyed Price’s orders to turn back and save Soap when he fell into the enemy’s trap and was pushed into the corner.

You laughed to yourself at this point, remembering vividly what a mess that time was. You two almost blindly fired your guns at the swarm of enemies circling you. As you barely escaped, Soap cursed very loudly in Scottish while his hand threw bombs toward your enemies. It was a mission that you would never forget, a piece of memory that you’d take to the grave, not only because of how badly injured you were and the prolonged period of time you had to spend in the hospital, but also because of how Soap looked at you. After that near-death experience, whenever your eyes and his met, his eyes evidently softened, and you enjoyed every little second of it. It made you feel like, eventually, you were special to someone, like you weren’t just anybody, but someone unique that was closely linked to a hardly forgettable remembrance. It raised your hope–something that you had thought to never regain, since at least when you died, there would still be one person who would keep the image of you inside one of their billion fragments of memory.

Of course, after the certain mission, both you and Soap were heavily reprimanded by Kate and Price, you for the obvious reason of disobeying orders, and Soap for his stupid addiction to blowing things up, which worsened you two’s already horrendous injuries because at the time of the explosion you were still too close to the spot.

“What are you smiling about?” You jumped at the sudden voice that broke the room’s silence.

Soap laughed at your reaction, “Why are you so tense?” He sat down, being so near to you that your thighs touched each other. He threw his big muscular arm over your shoulder, grinning broadly, “Temme, what is so fun that you smile like that?”

“It’s nothing.” You blushed at how close you two were, silently praying that the light of the room was too feeble for him to notice.

He pinched your face, causing you to grimace, “I don’t believe ya. It’s so rare to see ya smile so cutely like this. Must have some special reason.”

Definitely you could not tell him that you were thinking of the team, and especially him, so you decided to keep silent and enjoy your meal. Maintaining eye contact was like torture to you, so your eyes were just glued to the plate until you finished. Therefore, you also missed his eyes, along with how he looked at you.

From Soap’s point of view, all that he could see at that moment was how lovely his boy was. The way his big puppy eyes widened when he suddenly talked. The way his body which was athletic but so slender when compared to Soap’s trembled slightly as he jumped. How the faint blush quickly deepened and then spread from his handsome adorable face to his delicate neck. The nice and warm feeling that Soap’s fingers felt when he pinched the boy’s cheek. And also how his long eyelashes shadowed his eyes as he looked down at his plate of food. It was so lovely that Soap volunteered to be trapped in this moment forever.

As you’d done eating and washing the dish, you came back into the dining room and saw Soap still sitting there.

The Scot chuckled at your expression, “What is that face, Y/n? Are you that annoyed because I’m still here?”

You unknowingly pouted, which only made you look even cuter in his eyes, “No.”

“Ghost is watching his stupid boring documentaries again. Wanna join?”

“You came here from the TV room?”

“Yeah. Now do you come or not?”

You scoffed, “Are you inviting me nicely or just gonna coerce me into it anyway?”

Soap didn’t reply, just amusingly shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine, I’ll come.”

“That’s my boy!” The older man approached you, then threw his arm over your shoulder again. Judging from how you barely kept up with his pace in this awkward position, he definitely coerced you into this by all means.

When you two arrived, the light in the TV room was turned off, and the only source of light left was the TV screen. Ghost was sitting on the sofa alone, eyes glued to the screen that was playing some kind of dinosaur fossils, while Price was sleeping in his favorite spot–the single couch. You swiftly looked around to see if Gaz and Roach were here or not, only to find the two idiots hugging each other on the carpet, drooling and snoring loudly.

Ghost turned his head to look at you and Soap as you were literally pushed into the room by the Scot. His out-of-nowhere eagerness strangely made you laugh.

“Daddy chill.” You jokingly said and sat down beside Ghost, completely overlooking how Soap’s flippant expressions froze for brief seconds.

“Finished your dinner?” Ghost suddenly spoke up.

You were taken aback simply because the masked man hardly ever cared what others were doing with their life outside of missions, particularly for some trivial things like taking care of your daily needs.

“Y-yes, Sir!”

Soap burst into laughter, so hard that he fell to your side, hugging his belly.

“LMAO! What was that, Y/n??? You’re scared of Ghost that much???”

“What? What???” You frowned in confusion. You were even more confused when you heard a soft chuckle from the masked man that was sitting on your left.

“Why are you two laughing? There’s nothing funny!”

“It is funny! Do you see how you shudder like a puppy under Ghost’s glare? I wish I had recorded it!”

“Gosh! I hate you Soap!” You growled under your breath as you launched your whole body into him while Soap was still barely able to put himself together from his stupid sense of humor.

You two soon began to fight each other, giggling like two mischievous kids, completely forgetting that there was Ghost right next to you, who probably got accidental punches and kicks continuously by the unaware manchildren. However, the masked man was not mad at you two for disturbing him from enjoying his favorite show at all; instead, he often stole glances at you two with pure delight in his eyes. Seeing you finally being able to relax among the team was a sight that he wanted to witness all his life. It would take more time for you to pull down the walls you had built around yourself and let them come inside, but for now, this was already enough.

After a while, the giggling and fighting noises abated. You were sleeping soundly, face on Soap’s broad chest and arms around his waist. Soap’s eyes softened as he looked at how peaceful you were at the moment, before looking up to meet Ghost’s. The two men stayed in their position, didn’t move an inch, until Soap fell his eyelids become heavier and fell asleep as well, and Ghost turned off the TV, thereby extinguishing the only source of light in the room. He rested his head on your lower back, slowly drifting off.

To be continued...

[mlmxreader]

Sickness | Kenshi Takahashi x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Could you do prompts 1 and 9 with Kenshi? ❞

: ̗̀➛ Kenshi always worries about you, and although he'll never stop, he'll always be more worried when you're sick.

: ̗̀➛ sickness/illness, horror film mentions

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

It started out relatively small, a few little coughs here and there and a little bit of sluggish movements in the morning, but Kenshi just assumed that it was little more than the time of year.

That was until you stopped sleeping; he would hear you get out of the bed in the middle of the night and groan, coughing loudly as you headed downstairs.

He would hear you continue to cough and sniffle until you eventually returned to bed; he would feel the heat radiating off of your body despite the fact that you only ever wore boxers and socks to bed.

You were feverish, your temperature was through the roof. He was naturally worried. If there was one constant about your relationship with Kenshi, it was his constant and consistent worry.

His need to protect you from everything.

He did text Kung Lao about it, asking if Madam Bo had any recipes that he could use to help ease your sickly and ill demeanour.

You did seem mostly yourself, though, and as per usual, you snuggled up with him on the sofa during the dwindling hours of the evening; Kenshi didn't mind, if he got sick he trusted that you would look after him the way he was trying to do for you.

You put on one of your favourite films, watching it in silence as Kenshi slowly felt himself drop off to sleep; he could hear the screams and the squelches from the television, but took no notice.

He got used to the sounds of graphic and grim horror films a long time ago, if he was honest. He never took much of an interest, but you enjoyed them, so he didn't see any point in protesting.

He was sure that you never took any notice of or any interest in the rugby, but you never protested when he listened to the game on the radio.

But when you paused the film, getting up, Kenshi knew that something was wrong, and he frowned as he placed his hand on your forehead.

You were soaked in sweat, and boiling.

"Something about this doesn't feel right," he hummed, shaking his head. "Are you feeling alright?"

You swallowed thickly, leaning into him as you coughed softly. "Just tired... I figured I'd turn the telly off and sleep for a bit..."

That wasn't like you at all. Kenshi knew that, even though you tried to hide it from him, you would stay up all night to watch your films if they were on; he still remembered when he woke up to the noises of 'Train to Busan' at five in the morning because you forgot to turn the volume down.

He still remembered when you and Johnny sat down in the living room and watched all three Human Centipede films in one sitting, completely ignoring Kenshi for hours. You loved those films. It wasn't like you to ever turn them off.

"You're really not feeling well," he hummed softly, shaking his head. "Are you?"

You huffed, patting his chest gently as you shook your head. "I'm alright, I'll live."

"First thing in the morning," Kenshi started, "we're going to the shop, picking up everything on the list Kung Lao gave me, and we're getting you better."

"Kenshi-"

"You never turn off your films," he pointed out, maybe a little more forcefully and harshly than he meant to. "Something's wrong."

You wanted to smile, knowing that he knew you so well, better than anyone else in the world except maybe Johnny.

But that was only because you and Johnny had worked together since the start of his acting career, and you were content with being his agent-slash-best-friend.

You cleared your throat, grumbling as you snuggled up against him and sighed. You did feel like shit, but you didn't want him to worry even though you knew he always would. Kenshi would never stop worrying about you.

"Just relax," you told him gently. "I'll be fine. It's just a bit of a flu. Nothing too bad."

He huffed, not quite wanting to accept your answer but knowing that you could be stubborn when you really wanted to. He moved so that he could feel your head against his chest, your body pressed against his as he held you on top of him, swallowing thickly as he shook his head.

"Get some sleep," he told you, hoping you wouldn't hear the worry in his voice. "When you wake up, I'll make you something to eat."

You nodded against him, sighing heavily. "You always look after me the best, y'know."

[darling-i-read-it]

Concussion

Bo Sinclair x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: the reader is in on the whole killing people thing and she helps them, the reader is caught in a fight, the whole plot is kinda based around bo and the reader going to see potential people to kill rip 

Author’s Note: HELLO BELLA QUEEN I hope you enjoy this, it is unedited and I wrote it all while watching the movie. So there are fo sure some grammatical errors <3 I took our conversation and ran with it fr 

Requested: by @blonde-bombshell-wannabe, MAYA !! (This is Bella on a diff acc) may I request for my babygirl Bo Sinclair! thank you ily queen 

Summary: The reader lives in Ambrose with the brothers. She goes with Bo one night to scare off some campers/frighten them towards Ambrose and she gets hurt. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

The town of Ambrose was dead. The lonely streets were desolate and smelled of pine trees. The windows, even when they robotically moved, were vacant of any kind of life. The wax museum at the top of the hill was filled with lifeless eyes but they were the closest you had to any kind of human interaction. 

Outside of the Sinclair's. The Sinclair's had enough life in them to fill up the entire town, to drown it with their actions and etch their own marking onto the world. The rest of the continent may be filled with towns that created economy’s but not Ambrose. Ambrose was a secret in itself. It made living there all the more entertaining. There was always something to discover, always something to unearth. 

Bo liked to pretend the whole place was condensed down to the gas station and its immediate surroundings. He was standing behind the counter, finicking with a bolt and screwdriver. He had the wrench between his teeth as he looked down at it, eyebrows knitted in frustration and determination. 

“You see those guys down the road? Twenty miles up south?” Bo looked up to meet the eyes of his brother Lester. Following close behind him was you, causing the door to jingle above your head. Bo took the wrench out of his mouth and shook his head. 

“No I haven’t been out,” he grumbled. “Why? You guys been goin that far?” His southern drawl dipped into a bit of jealousy. 

“Not like that. Just perusing,” Lester explained. “They got a campsite. Like them kids from last summer, the ones trying to go to the football game?” Bo nodded. He remembered. Nearly gave him a run for his money too. Soon after that you came along, running away from life and looking for a new place to set down roots. You stumbled into a town that wasn’t even on the map, knocking on hotels that didn’t have any living owners. Bo found you there, showed you around, decided not to kill you. 

It took you a moment to get used to the way the brothers did things but you had never felt like you belonged somewhere more. 

“Never made it to the football game,” Lester laughed. You scoffed and walked up to the counter Bo was standing behind. You hoisted yourself up. 

“Only one car. We couldn’t make out how many people there was but they didn't even notice that we were there,” you explained. Bo nodded once, looking forward. He met your eyes and you shrugged, gently letting him know that you thought it was safe. He hummed under his breath for a second and then cleared his throat. 

“Sounds interesting. We’ll keep an eye on it.”

“We haven’t done anything in weeks Bo. It’s been a drought out here,” you complained. He kept his eyes on you, looking up through his lashes. He was daring you to push it. You wanted to. Lester let out a dramatic sigh. 

“She knows where it is. Just past the dump site.”

“Yeah yeah.” Bo gave him a nod as a ‘thank you’. Lester raised his hands in a small defensive plea and walked back out the gas station. The bell rang above his head to indicate his departure. Even though there were only four of you in the town it always felt like you all took up so much space. You were used to just being by yourself, walking by yourself, driving by yourself. Vincent had made sure you had defense against anyone that you could run into. You could defend yourself. 

Lester leaving left a large space. 

“Don’t be antsy,” he mumbled. He had gone back to whatever he was working on at the desk. You turned around, craning your neck to watch him. His fingers were dirty with grease, his fingernails permanently black. 

“I’m not being antsy.” 

“You are. I can feel it,” he muttered. He glanced up at you, annoyed, and then backed down. You rolled your eyes and reached forward into his shirt pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes. 

“You’re tense. Have a smoke,” you joked. He scoffed but you got a smile out of him. You nimbly pulled out one from the pack. He was low. He kept a drawer of them by his bedside until someone made it far out enough to buy more. They were a variety of brands. He had never been picky. 

You offered it to him. He took it, continuing his mock annoyance, and put it between his teeth. 

“You gonna light it too sweetheart?” he questioned, muffled by the cigarette. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the lighter sitting on the desk. You tried it twice and it finally lit. He moved forward to the flame and the end of it smoked. 

“Think on it. I think they’ll be gone by tomorrow though so don’t think too long,” you said. He nodded, putting the smoke between his fingers. You pushed yourself off the desk and walked forward to the door. “I can go without you.” 

He gave you a warning look. 

“What, flash some lights intimidatingly? That’s not a very hard job Bo.” 

“Watch it.” You backed off. You opened the door and stepped out. 

“Yes sir.” 

The bell dinged as you left. 

-

You twirled your car keys on your finger. The sky had just turned into a cloudy overcast as you walked out of the House of Wax. You liked to watch Vince sculpt and he let you sit there, drinking a soda, leaned back in a comfy chair. You walked down the hill towards the church when Bo appeared, wearing his jumpsuit. He tilted his baseball hat down as a hello. 

“What’re you doin up here?”

“Hanging with Vince. What are you doin up here?” 

“Lookin for you,” he explained. “Suns going down. Don’t exactly wanna go with Lester out to that campsite.” Your eyes went wide in excitement. You really thought you were gonna have to go by yourself tonight and that was sure to create an argument in the morning. You were pleased that he had changed his mind or at least, gotten more used to the idea of you tagging along. 

You smiled but other than that, didn’t mention it. 

“We taking my car or yours?” 

“Which one of mine?” You rolled your eyes and followed in stride with him down the hill.

“You say they’re yours as though you didn’t steal them.” “They dropped the car keys on the ground,” he suggested. He gestured to the ground. “Middle of the road. Abandoned.” He shook his head as he walked up to one of his trucks. He had finally gotten around to fixing the front headlight of it and could drive it out again. Not that he was against breaking the rules, he just didn’t like driving a car that wasn’t up to code. Old life habits you imagined. 

You got into the passenger seat. 

“You got a knife?” You gave your combat boots a slap. 

“Always.” 

“Serrated?” 

“Whatever Lester gave me,” you said. “He tried to tell me which one was better but I tuned him out.” 

“It’s good he has hobbies.” He turned on the car and it grumbled beneath you. It sputtered and then came to life. Bo turned the gear forward and then started to drive down the road until it hit the dirt. You watched out of the window as the sun started to fall. You were due a twenty minute drive, more or less, and by the time you arrived at the campsite it would be completely gone.

The trees passed you by in a blur. Ambrose was so far out from everything that you barely could recognize the difference between south and north. If it weren’t all you now knew, you’d never be able to find yourself. 

“You fix that dodge?” you asked, leaning your head against the cool window. 

“Just about. Have to get a couple things from the city,” he admitted. 

“Well it’s a good thing we aren’t paying rent,” you joked. He gave you a half smile, for your benefit. 

“How was Vincent?” he questioned, almost begrudgingly. You shrugged. 

‘He’s good. Working on a new figure.”

“Always,” he muttered. 

“It keeps him sane. We all have our vices.”

“Yeah, what’s yours?” 

“You,” you said, smugly. He glanced over at you, taking his eyes clean off the road. “How about you Bo? What’s your vice?”

“Cars and beer.” 

“Oh a typical southern man.” You pointed up the road. “Take a right up here.” The trees were now casting a dark shadow over the road. The sun was almost completely gone. “Are you armed?” 

“Yeah,” he said. He reached into the glove box in front of you without a warning. You moved your knees, making an annoyed groan that had no heart in it. 

“What’re you looking for?”

“Knife.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Let me help.” 

“No.” He moved his hands over your knees. You were wearing shorts, courtesy of the heat. Though you weren’t sure how long it would last. Had you thought longer, you would have changed before night fell. But that required doing laundry and you wanted to avoid that as much as you could. Your bare knees brushed against his hand. Still greased, rough from the constant manhandling. 

“Bo.” 

“Here.” He grabbed the hilt of a covered knife. “Better for slashing tires than yours.” 

“You don’t even know what Lester got me.” 

“I know this one is better.” 

You drove in comfortable silence for a while more. The music played quietly, some trashy dad rock. He turned it down as you approached, listening for your directions. Finally you came to a rocky stop. He left the lights on. You could hear laughter from your window that was cracked open. The faint crackling of a fire. Fun was being had in front of you. 

“This is my favorite part,” you whispered. Bo turned on the high beams and the laughter came to a slow stuttering stop. You sat up to see their faces. Two girls and two boys. Double dates. Camping trip gone wrong. You could imagine the headlines. 

“Hey! Can you turn off your lights? You’re blinding us!” a voice called, a males. You sat up straighter to see but Bo put his hand in front of you. He gave you a warning look and you stopped moving. You settled into your seat. 

“Hey man!” 

There were more cries of protest. You watched Bo, watched as his face stayed steady. Calm. Focused. 

Then he backed away. He pulled out of the dirt road and back down the street to wait for them to fall into deep sleep. They never followed the truck. You thought about that everytime you sat in it, wondering why they didn’t just walk down the road to see it sitting there in wait. Moments like those made you feel better about what eventually happened to them. Silly humans, making silly decisions. 

Bo parked in the shrouded part of the streets. 

“We really should put some blankets in the bed of the truck,” you suggested. You had taken off your seatbelt and put your feet up on the chair. You should’ve brought a book or something. “We sit here forever. We could take a nap.”

“Bring an alarm clock?”

“Yeah. Now you’re getting it.” He rolled his eyes. He had put his hat over his head to take a nap but you weren’t letting him. He had finally just put it back to its rightful position and continued the conversation. 

“You know what else we could do in the bed?” You rolled your eyes. 

“Alright alright.” You sat up. “How long is this gonna take?” 

“This is why you never come.”

“Because I get bored of sitting here without a blanket, a book or a movie.”

“Stop being childish,” he mumbled. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it easily, blowing the smoke out the window. He started the car. 

“Time?” 

He didn’t answer but he drove out of the spot, indicating that it was in fact, time. 

-

He let you lead. He didn’t usually like to. He wanted to be in control with his smug shit eating grin as you watched him walk around. The adrenaline would kick in when he got back into the car with you and the urge to kiss you was never higher. 

Today he let you do it. He let you do the count, walk around the campsite like a grim reaper with all the cards in her hand. He watched, leaning against the car, as you stalked. 

Bo was clear in his expectations. Check quickly for weapons and then make sure there was no one hiding in the tents when you had driven by earlier. He would grab the part of the car needed to get them to stay.

Your footsteps were light on the dewy grass. The only indication you were there was the moon, highlighting your outline. 

You could feel Bo’s eyes on you as you approached the first of two tents. It had a sheer roof. You could hear the even breathing of two sleeping people. One man, one girl. You were right on the dot, as you had been earlier. 

You walked to the other tent. You wondered briefly what all the fuss was about as you saw the next one also had a sheer top. You glanced at Bo’s outline. The only real indication he was there was the red cigarette butt between his fingers. 

When you looked back at the tent you came face to face with an unfamiliar man. 

You gasped.

It was the loudest thing in the night as you saw a face you had never seen before, tall, broad, scary. You had thought Bo was scary when you first met him but he was nothing compared to this man now. 

He wasted no time and no questions. He threw a punch. 

You hadn’t been prepared for the confrontation and you had no time to retaliate. There was no knife in your hand when there should have been. 

You stumbled back. There was a momentary blindness as you reached forward, throwing a punch that didn’t have a location. You grabbed your nose, which was already bleeding. The man had moved forward for more but you could see something had stopped in. 

A fight in the dead of night was so confusing. It was dangerous and it was blinding. Your eyes weren’t caught up to the movement of the darkness. You were always going to be a step behind fast movement. 

“Come on.” It was Bo’s voice, his hand grabbing your arm and dragging you away. You cursed, hand still over your face. You hit the truck and he let you go to get in your passenger seat. Bo pulled away, tires grumbling under the rock road. He drove quickly out of the scene. For once you were glad they didn’t think to follow. 

“They didn’t see your face. It was too dark.” 

You passed a street light. There was blood all over your hands. 

Darkness. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t hear…” Another street light. Dimmer one this time, like it was about to go out. You saw the blood on Bo’s knuckles as they gripped the steering wheel. 

Bo pulled over when he thought it was safe enough. He didn’t tell you that but you could tell that he had been itching to pull over for miles. He turned on the overhead light and got out of the car. You stayed put as he walked around the front, opening up the passenger door. 

“What’s hurtin?” he questioned lowly. He removed your hand forcefully. The blood trickled down your fingers and onto your lips. 

“My nose,” you whispered. He shook his head, reopening the dashboard. He had napkins shoved in there. 

“Don’t move.” He gently put his hand over your nose. “It’s gonna bruise. It ain’t broken.” You nodded slowly. You felt the natural tears well up in your eyes from the pain and the adrenaline wearing off. You pushed them aside, from fear of being weak in front of Bo. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. “That’s why you aren’t allowed to come along.”

“I can fight them when they’re in Ambrose,” you argued. “I thought they were all asleep. I saw two of them knocked o-”

“Not asleep enough. We should’ve waited, if you hadn’t been fuckin pestering me then we-”

“Don’t blame this on me! I was the one who got punched!”

“And I was the one who had to save your ass!” He backed up, shaking his head. He looked younger in the dim lighting of the dome bulbs. “I’m takin you back.” Before you could protest he walked to the other side of the car. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go kill the fucker.” 

“Bo-”

“It’s gonna happen eventually, I’m gonna make it sooner. Ain’t no one allowed to hit you and get away with that.” You were still holding the napkins to your nose. 

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” His voice was harsh. You would think he was angry at you if his words weren’t so genuine. “Don’t fuckin lie to me.” 

“I’m not lying.” 

“Sweetheart c’mon.” He glanced at you. He took a turn sharply. You were going way faster now than you had been on the way over. You guessed it would only take another five minutes to get back to town. “I’ll leave you with Vincent and you stay there alright?” 

You nodded. You didn’t wanna argue. 

-

Bo came back when dawn came. You were in between consciousness, still feeling the effects of your eventual concussion. You heard him come into the house. The screen door was loose and made noise when it shut. You sat up, hair strayed from tossing and turning. 

You could hear Bo take off his boots. As he walked his steps became more labored. You met his eyes as he entered your bedroom. You waited. 

“He’s dead.” 

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. 

“You okay?” You nodded. He sat down beside you, swinging his knee up so he could get closer. He put his hand on your cheek, brushing your nose with his thumb as he examined your face. “Bruised.” 

“You said that last night.”

“I wasn’t sure. I’m sure now.” You nodded. He kept his hand on your cheek, making sure there was no other damage. 

“Thanks Bo,” you whispered. He nodded. 

“Don’t fuckin do that again ‘lright?” You nodded back. 

“Scouts honor.” He smiled smugly. He was loopy and tired. He could fall asleep sitting up. He took off his hat, removing his hand from your face. He ran his fingers through your hair. “Sleep,” you whispered. 

“Here?”

“Why not? You saved my life tonight Bo.” 

“You think I deserve a kiss for that?” The smug smile returned. You rolled your eyes and sat forward, putting your hand on his shoulder. 

“I think I could arrange that.” 

He turned his head and kissed you. The morning light seeped through the light curtains of your window. The sunrise promised a new day. You just wanted to go back to sleep. You cupped his cheek, leaning into his lips. You had always known Bo would be a good kisser but feeling it in action was a different story. You pulled away for air and put your forehead against his. 

“Sleep. I think I’m concussed.” He scoffed, giving you a low chuckle.

“Alright sweetheart, scoot over.” 

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

Hiiii bfr i send my req, just wanna say i love your acc sm!! Could you pls write any tooth-rotting domestic fluff (can also drop a hint of suggestiveness hehe) abt jean pls? My idea would be abt his lover trying out her new lipstick where she cheekily smothers him with kisses just to see if it's transfer-proof heheh. Thank youu <33!!!

pairing: jean kirstein x fem!reader

word count: just under 1k

warnings: nothing, just fluffff :) ok maybe a little bit of suggestiveness at the end ;)

a/n: i love jean so much this is an epic request i hope you like it :)) sorry it took so long ily & i’m happy you like my account

you and jean had been going out for quite some time now. tonight would mark your three year anniversary. it was funny to think about; time flies when you’re in love. you could’ve sworn you just met jean yesterday. jean had that way about him, that effortless, sweep you off your feet type of deal. he had never once stopped making you feel loved or needed through out the entirety of your relationship.

there’s a dinner planned tonight. jean’d organized everything himself. he always took care of all the little things like picking the place and making reservations. he even took the liberty of buying you a new dress to wear, accompanied by a matching set of heels and a little tube of a burgundy-red lipstick. your heart swells when you come home and see it on your bed. jean leans against the door frame and clears his throat, making you jump a little.

“do you like them?” he asks. he doesn’t need you to answer. jean knows you so well he knows you love him. your answer just gives him that extra satisfaction.

“i love all of it. it’s amazing. thank you, jean.” you mean it sincerely. your fingers find their way to the lipstick. it was expensive.

“don’t thank me yet, baby. we’ve still got to get you dressed and to the restaurant.” jean walks over to where you stand by the bed. he gently takes the lipstick out of your hand and examines it. “hmm..”

“what?”

“i just think it’ll look good on you, that’s all.” he sets the tube back on the bed and kisses you on the top of your head. “now go get in the shower.”

the shower is nice and warm. you can’t help but feel a growing pit in the bottom of your stomach. you were nervous. the good type of nervous. it wasn’t often you had the time to get all dolled up. jean knew how much you loved getting all pretty but he loved it even more. he loved to spoil you. he loved the way you look in a dress. you couldn’t help but feel you need to uphold a certain standard. you wanted to feel beautiful, especially on a night like tonight.

after drying off and doing your hair, you slip into the dress you’d found laying on your bed earlier. it’s a little black dress with bits of lace here and here. it conforms to your body, hugging your hips. you had to admit, you looked damn good. “jean?” you called as you opened the bathroom door.

within seconds, your boyfriend is there. “yes, baby? what’sa matter?”

“do you like it?” you whispered, smoothing your dress out with your palms. jean’s eyes slowly trailed all the way down from your head. his eyes made their way back up to yours.

“you look gorgeous.” his eyes said everything. “you’re forgetting something, though.” jean furrowed an eyebrow and brushed a hand against the side of your warm face. he turned away without another word and headed to grab the tube of lipstick you left on the bed.

“oh, duh.” you laughed at yourself. you reached a hand out to take the makeup from him. he pulled his hand back. “i kind of need that if i want to wear it.” you cocked your head and crossed your arms.

jean just chuckled and shook his head. “don’t be a smart ass, (y/n.) get your cute self a little closer.” he snaked a hand around your waist and pulled you towards him. “open your mouth.” it came out in a whisper.

“jean, what?”

“do you trust me?” he asked with a glimmer in his eye. you nodded your head reluctantly. you did trust him but hell, did he make you nervous. you parted your lips, shallow breaths coming out of them. he grabbed your chin and lifted it up. he’s staring into your eyes and you can’t help but take in just exactly how handsome he is. your cheeks flushed as if you haven’t been living with him for almost two years. he flicked open the lipstick and raised it gently to your open lips. jean squinted his eyes in concentration. the lipstick glided against your lips smoothly. jean’s hazel eyes met yours once more. you rubbed your lips together slightly as he capped the lipstick.

“well?” you wondered outloud.

“it suits you perfectly. suppose i really know my lady, huh?”

“i think it’d suit you too, handsome.” you purred as a devilish smile crept across your face.

“i love you but you’re crazy if you think i’m wearing lipstick.” before jean could say another word, you stood on your tippy toes and grabbed the sides of his face. you smooshed your lips right against his cheekbone and held them there for a second. you pulled away to see a perfect stamp of your lips, the burgundy popping against his skin.

a smile formed slowly on jean’s face. the smile turned into a grin with shades of red rushing into his cheeks. he rubbed the back of neck awkwardly.

“damn. i’m thinking we’re going to be a little late, baby.”

you drop your hands and cross them behind your back. jean had made you feel beautiful. he would have made you feel that way even if he hadn’t said anything. you could see it in his eyes and you could feel it in his touch, just how much he adored you.

find my jean fic right here <3

[jammatown919]

Mistakes Were Made (Chapter Three)

Over the next two weeks, Garen learned the true meaning of self-loathing.

He knew that the safety of his country required the containment and treatment of mages, and that by allowing his sister to be brought in and dealt with, he'd done his duty as a servant of Demacia. As a brother, however, he couldn't help but feel as though he were the absolute bottom of the barrel.

The petricite solution, though the only cure for the affliction of magic, was not kind to the bodies of the mages who ingested it. What started as bouts of intense nausea swiftly became a constant pain that stole Lux's appetite and ability to do much more than try endlessly to sleep it off.

Garen did his best to be with her and make her comfortable. With her bedroom deemed a security risk after the mysterious intrusion of the strange mage, he'd seen to it that most of Lux's things were moved to the easily guarded interior parlor where she'd been confined. When he wasn't on duty guarding her room in case of another "visit", he sat with her and encouraged her to read her books and try to eat as much as she could manage.

When the pain wasn't at its worst and they could have a conversation, she told him that he was the only member of their family to come and see her. When he spoke with their parents and suggested a lower dose of petricite so Lux could function more normally, they decided without much consideration that she was being dramatic and would settle down soon enough. When she began to vomit multiple times a day, the guards assigned to her seemed more concerned than her own blood relatives.

Just two weeks in, Garen could see that she'd lost weight. Her hands shook almost constantly. Her face had lost its color. Her eyes had lost their joyful spark. Her light was dying, in more ways than one. She was dying, from a poison her own parents had prescribed, and they didn't care.

She was already dead to them; a mage daughter might even be worse than no daughter at all. But Garen still cared for his sister, and he wished every day there had been some other decision he could have made that might have spared her this fate. Perhaps if she had only revealed her magic to him, he could have convinced himself to keep it quiet. Perhaps if he hadn't been a coward, he would have made a case for her instead of submitting her to her new jailers.

Now, it was all he could do to be the remaining kindness in her life. To be with her and bring her what little joy could be managed.

One day, while guarding Lux's old quarters, Garen began to take notice of the neatly arranged art supplies on her desk. Charcoals, paints, inks. He hadn't seen any of her finished work in quite a number of years, but she always had liked to draw. In fact, he vaguely remembered parchment flying off this very desk when the intruding mage had abducted her.

With nothing but time in this space, Garen set about choosing some of her supplies to bring over to her new living arrangements. Maybe a creative spark would help distract her from the pain. Maybe she'd have some fun for the first time since her imprisonment.

He selected a few charcoals and, before deciding whether he would take any paints, opted to search for brushes. Following a rational train of thought as to where they might be stored, Garen opened a large drawer below the surface of the desk. Instead of brushes, he found piles of marked parchment, adorned with various images.

The first few were entirely normal for a noblewoman engaging in the visual arts. Painted floral landscapes. Inked calligraphy. A large charcoal sketch of Lux's favorite horse from the family stables.

Beyond that, one particular muse occupied almost every page. The very same woman Garen had found in this room two weeks ago.

Well, there went Lux's lie about not knowing her. She couldn't have possibly drawn these after the recent encounter. What was more, many of the drawings depicted the woman in a rather interesting light. Smiling, tinkering, accompanied by Lux quite a few times. The real nail in the coffin was a small piece, depicting only the heads and shoulders of the two women; Lux leaning over to give the stranger a kiss.

Briefly, it crossed Garen's mind to report these drawings to Aunt Tianna, but he quickly did away with the notion. Lux would only be punished, and the poor thing was already suffering enough. He put them all back where he'd found them, hidden beneath the more unassuming drawings, except for the last one. That one, he folded and stowed in his boot. 

He wouldn't make things worse on Lux by reporting her again, but this issue needed confronting. He would simply have to do it in private. 

------

Hours later, when he'd been relieved of duty by another trusted guard, Garen made his way to the parlor. He found Lux exactly as he'd left her that morning; asleep on the lounging sofa that had become her bed for the time being. A tray of roasted meat, bread, and vegetables lay untouched on the table in front of her. 

"Could we have some time alone?" Garen said to the guards on either side of the room. 

"Of course," one of them replied. "We'll be just outside, sir."

As the two guards vacated the room, Garen sat down beside his sister and reached for her shoulder. It took several minutes of prodding to coax her into opening her eyes. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly. 

Lux merely groaned, almost entirely a dead weight as Garen took hold of her and shifted her into a sitting position. 

"Have you eaten at all today?" he inquired. 

"You must be joking," Lux replied dryly, looking for all the world like she'd rather throw herself out the nearest window than entertain the idea of food. 

"Hunger won't do you any favors." Garen picked up the bread and offered it to her.

"Neither will vomiting for the rest of the night." Lux turned away, like she couldn't even stand to look at it. "I can't stomach anything."

Garen sighed, placing the bread back on the tray. "I'll have something lighter sent up for you. Promise me you'll at least try?"

Lux made a low sound of disgust that told him she would be making no such promises. He wanted to insist, but if he was being honest, she did seem a little better today for not having eaten. The past several days, she'd tried to eat, spent most of the day failing to keep it down, and eventually passed out from the strain. At least now she could sit up and talk to him. It wouldn't last; eventually, hunger would make her weaker, but maybe that was a fight for another day. 

Today had its own demons. 

Slowly, Garen reached toward his boot, pinching his thumb and forefinger on the corner of the parchment he'd stowed inside. 

"Then, maybe you can do something else for me," he said. 

"Garen..." Lux leaned back heavily into the cushions. "I can't even stand."

"But can you explain this?" Garen made an effort to keep his voice even and free of accusation as he showed her the drawing of her and the strange woman, but Lux recoiled as if he'd physically struck her. 

"Where did you...?"

"In your desk," Garen replied. "With others like it."

Lux stared at him with genuine fear in her eyes, mouth occasionally opening to say something before the words died on her tongue. 

"I'm not going to show Aunt Tianna," Garen told her softly, "or anyone else. I just need you to be honest with me. Who is this woman, and what was she doing here?"

Lux's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "It- it doesn't matter anymore."

"It does," Garen said. He glanced down at the image and what it portrayed. "She wasn't here to hurt you, was she? You were... you weren't enemies." To call them friends felt wrong, given what he was looking at, but he didn't want to assume. 

"She would never hurt me," Lux insisted. 

"Then why did she point her gun at you? Why did she pull you out the window?"

"She never meant anything by it, she-" Lux bit down on the soft tissue inside her mouth and looked at Garen with shiny, wet eyes, considering. Deciding whether she actually trusted him not to tell. Apparently, she didn't. "It doesn't matter. She can't come back. If she did..." The tears began to fall. "Just... get rid of the drawings, please. Don't let anyone else see them."

Garen had further questions. He wanted to know more about Lux's relationship with the mysterious woman, how they'd met, why that night had transpired the way it had, and much more. But his little sister's tears had never been an easy thing for him to overlook. His whole life, there had only ever been one response to those tears, and even now, he found himself acting on instinct. 

He put everything else aside for a moment and drew her in close for a tight, squeezing hug that, in their youth, would have comforted her no matter the situation. Now, she only gasped sharply, and Garen let her go at once. Still crying, she clutched at her stomach and let out a strangled, pained sound. Garen realized belatedly that squeezing her around the middle in her current condition had not been the best idea. 

"I'm sorry," he said frantically, reaching for her as if he could do something. Lux didn't reply, rather squeezing her eyes shut and focusing on deep, even breaths. After a few moments, she pitched to the side and collapsed again him. He held her gently this time, rubbing reassuring circles on her back. 

He definitely wasn't getting anything else out of her tonight. Suddenly, it didn't matter as much. Questions didn't seem so important when someone he had loved so dearly since the moment of her birth was in so much pain, and he had helped to put her there, and there was nothing he could do it fix it.

 Since he was young, it had been drilled into his head that he needed to protect his younger sister. He hadn't really needed to be told; holding her for the first time as a newborn, he had known that the mission to keep her safe would persist throughout his life. Except now, forces far beyond him threatened her. He could not protect her from her body's reaction to the petricite. He could not protect her from family who sat above him. He could not protect her from the laws of their country. 

He could only comfort her in the small ways available to him. He could be there, he could hold her, and he could tell her over and over how sorry he was. 

------

There was just something about zapping into a precarious position, gripping a thin window ledge with one hand while dangling over a courtyard filled with the world's most incompetent human watchdogs that Jinx would always find fun. Sure, appearing directly inside Lux's room was fine and dandy too, but a little hit of adrenaline always did Jinx good. Kept her from getting too bored. Besides, climbing in through bedroom windows was romantic, wasn't it?

Jinx only wished it were under better circumstances. It had been three weeks since Lux had yelled at her and told her to go home, and Jinx really had no idea whether she was still in the doghouse. Honestly, she wasn't even sure why Lux had gotten so mad at her.  She'd wanted to pop back and ask, but how long was long enough to start talking again? Waiting for Lux to reach out first didn't seem too good of a plan, since reaching out from Demacia all the way to Zaun wasn't exactly feasible. 

So, it fell to Jinx to make the first move and test the waters. She wasn't so great at apologies, though, so she'd settled for a peace offering in case Lux was still mad. 

That had been pretty easy to come by, since Piltie merchants had this funny little habit of leaving their wares sitting around unprotected in their shops after hours, trusting that nobody would pick the locks and nab them. Their fault, really. Jinx had done that florist a favor by letting them know they needed better security, and now she had a giant bunch of roses to smooth things over with Lux. 

That was right, wasn't it? Rich people gave their girlfriends flowers to make them happy, Jinx was pretty sure. And Lux was a classy lady, so... yeah, it all checked out. 

Taking a few quick breaths to hype herself up, Jinx swung up onto the window ledge and climbed in like she had three weeks ago and put on her best smile. 

"Morning, Sunshine!" she called into the room. 

Only there was no sunshine waiting for her inside. Just a broad guy in bulky armor with a big sword sitting on the bed. Jinx knew this guy, didn't she? Wasn't he the guy that had barged in on her and Lux?

"It's you," he said sitting up a little straighter. Jinx immediately reached for Zapper at her side. "Wait, I don't want to fight!"

"Where's Blondie?" Jinx asked lowly, her hand still resting on the holster. 

"Bl- do you mean Lux?" Why did he look sort of relieved? "You came here for her?"

"Damn right I did."

"Are you two... friends? Do you care for her?"

Too many questions. Getting too personal. Jinx slipped Zapper out of his cozy little holster. "Who's asking?"

"Lux's brother."

Made sense. Lux had mentioned having a brother at some point. Maybe she shouldn't shoot him? Siblings were a gray area for sure, but... well, Little Man used to get pissed when she'd off members of his group, and she guessed if she looked at it a certain way, a family was a little like that kind of group. Maybe she'd wait to shoot him until she could be sure how much Lux would care. 

"Please," the big guy said. He was sitting kind of weird, like he wanted to stand up but didn't know if that would startle her. "I need to know if you care about Lux. If she was in danger, w-"

"Is she?" Faster than even she could process, Jinx was right in his face. 

"Yes." He didn't seem very intimidated, but his answer distracted Jinx from deciding if that impressed or annoyed her. "The last time you were here, Lux revealed her status as a mage to several people. She's being confined to a single room and given a petricite solution to kill her magic, but... it's poison. She can't eat, she can't move. It's been two days since she last opened her eyes. Our family doesn't care, and there's nothing I can do, but you can appear and disappear at will. Is there any way you can take her with you? Go into hiding, leave the country if you can, please. I cannot stand by and watch my sister die."

For a few seconds, Jinx had many emotions to contend with. Overwhelming concern. A strong desire to murder anyone even remotely responsible for this. A slightly weaker urge to slap the shit out of this guy for not leading with that. 

Then, she packed all that away for later. She had to focus. She had a job to do. 

"Alright, big man," she said firmly. "I'm gonna need exact coordinates and as many details as you can give me. I'm going to get my girl."

------

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[hiscloakmydaggers]

Something To Share With the Class?

Deanic Prompt Generator Week

Day 4 - “Nic and Deacon reveal their Tumblr blogs to each other. Deacon turns out to be Nic’s #1 Tumblr crush.”

…well thats ironic huh. im basically bein forced to do like a modern AU in this, rip.

wordcount: 610

｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ☀︎ ｡ﾟ☁︎

“What’s up with Nic lately?” Tom asked Deacon in passing, while fidgeting with an old wrench.

“Whaddya mean?”

“He’s real off. Like, he don’t talk to no one,” he smacked his lips together. “Don’t mean to sound like an old fart, but he’s always on his phone.”

“Really? He acts normal with me.” Deacon shrugged, “well, he doesn’t usually act normal, huh?”

They laughed it off, giving Deacon the opportunity to go to the shared bedroom.

Maybe what Tom said did concern him a bit.

Nic was on the bed, poking at his phone screen. As soon as Deacon entered, he dropped the phone onto the mattress like he was never engrossed in it.

“Got something to share with the class?”

“The class?”

“Mhm. Me, myself, and I,” he pointed his thumbs at himself. “Second time this week somebody asks me about you. I get it if you don’t like talking, duh, but you can’t just become a little crab now.”

Nic‘s face flushed and sat up, “I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Neither do I!” Deacon lowered himself onto the bed, purposely sitting on Nic’s phone, “come on, you don’t gotta hide anything from me, baby.”

“Hypocrite,” he lifted Deacon up with ease to take back his device. “Not so sneaky either.” Embarrassed by his own words, Nic grit his teeth, “you know that one app?”

“There are literally millions of apps.”

“T-Tumblr, you know it?”

The lightbulb in Deacon’s head sparkled on, it showed in his expression, “ohhh! Yeah, I got it, like, yesterday-ish.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened the app. “Tom wanted me to follow him… now my feed’s full of his weird shit,” he scrolled through for examples. “Ah, what were you gonna say?”

Nic ran a hand through his hair and opened Tumblr on his own phone. In shame, he simply tossed it onto Deacon’s lap.

“Well, well, well. Must be something bad.” Deacon grinned and picked the phone up to his view. Nic immediately dropped his head to his lap.

His profile seemed normal at first, but every post was related to “husband,” “LOML,” or flat-out “Deacon.” His profile picture and banner were both pictures of them. Not to mention his bio…

“43 years old. Man. Married for 10 years. I have a husband. I’m married to my husband. I’m slightly homosexual and I love him.”

The blush that summoned beneath his sunglasses was unlike any other. “Hm… w-wha?”

“I could just delete it all, it’s okay. Everything’s just old.”

“This one’s from this morning!”

“I-I had it scheduled,” he lied through trembling teeth. Each scroll Deacon‘s finger did made Nic shrink and whimper closer to his legs.

”Woah, I actually look good in that photo,” he chirped. “Love your shirt in that one. I gotta wear that pair of jeans more. I-… hold on… you said you wanted to do what to me on November fi-?“

Nic launched up, “I-I wasn’t in the right state of mind that day!”

Deacon put the phone back in Nic’s pocket. “Didn’t think you were that… in love. You don’t have anything else to post about?”

“…Well, Hancock and I talk about our-“

“I’ll stop you there,” Deacon gritted his teeth and shook his head, “don’t even wanna know.”

Nic nodded his head and pouted, “you’re not mad or anything?”

“I’m flattered, definitely. Kind of shocked, no, very shocked, but I’m flattered,” a little smirk came onto his face, “not about one thing, though.”

“Which is?”

“You were posting about something bad. Totally horrible. Like, that creep is clearly wearing a wig.”

“D-Don’t say things like that about yourself!”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

deacon probably wouldnt even have a pfp. his acc would just unintentionally look like a bot’s. since nic is basically a very edited s/i of me, would his blog also be named “hiscloakmydaggers??” hmmm… new theory

site 4 prompt: https://atsuzaki-playground.neocities.org/

[casualjacobwrites]

FFXIV Write 2024 Prompt 07 - Morsel

Continued from last prompt. (Reminder I’m using the prompts to tell a single story versus standalone prompts.)

I’m just going where the vibes take me. Right now I’m telling a story and setting up a crisis that will push our two boys, Emmanellain and Sicard, into each other’s arms.

Reminding myself that I don’t have to be perfect. Just get it done and turned in.

Spoilers for Endwalker.

Word Count: 1,260

Marina paused to draw in a shaky breath. With damp eyes she continued speaking. "If I had known what he did, I never would have agreed to join him. Then again, if I had not, I never would have had the opportunity to save them."

The way she tried to emphasize her goodness made Sicard suspicious. It could be she felt guilt for choosing a bad partner, but it might also be a ploy to distance herself from blame so when the truth came to light she could put it all on her lover's shoulders. He had known his fair share of villains and had a keen sense for manipulation.

"I believed his experiments were agricultural in nature," she continued. "I didn't want to believe the rumors about the island laboratories. No upstanding Garlean wanted to think our late emperor would condone such things." She looked into his eyes as if imploring him to believe her. "The moment I realized what was truly happening, I knew I had to save those unfortunate souls."

Something about the way she referred to the victims as "unfortunate souls" annoyed him. Still, he kept his mouth shut so she might finish explaining how she came to be stranded in the middle of the sea with a deck full of dead sahagin.

"For over a year I tried to plan our escape, but it wasn't until recently an opportunity presented itself."

"The End of Days," Sicard said.

Marina's brow furrowed. "I-is that what they called it? I only know that, over time, we received fewer and fewer communications from Ilsabard. Then, one day it stopped altogether. That was weeks ago."

"An' no one tried to leave to find out what was happenin'?"

She shook her head. "There are protocols in place. The laboratories are designed to operate independently of the Empire, and should Garlemald fall, the legatus in charge will then destroy all evidence of their existence. Only Roland hesitated to issue the final command."

"Just enough time for the enlisted and conscripts to decide they'd rather live."

"How astute of you, Master Spence," Marina smiled, though it was far from happy. "Several fled on supply ships, others attempted to seize command from Roland."

"I assume they failed."

She nodded. "But amid the chaos I was able to free the subjects and board this ship."

"That included the sahagin?"

"Yes, those brave creatures were able to fend off the few soldiers who were still loyal to Roland."

"An' Roland is your, ah, what did you call it? Paramour?"

"Was my paramour, yes." She wrung her fingers together in her lap.

"I suppose he was none too happy to see his lover runnin' away with all his secrets." Sicard tugged at his lower lip as he considered everything Marina told him. "Still doesn't explain what attacked your ship."

"It was Roland."

"As I told you earlier, whatever killed those fishbacks wasn't a man, Garlean or otherwise."

Marina shook her head with such violent force it caused her hair to fly of her shoulders. "No, no, it was Roland. As we sailed away I saw…I saw him…change."

Sicard froze. "Change how?"

"I don't know how to describe it, not exactly. One moment he was on the shore shouting orders. The next there stood a beast unlike any I have ever seen." A tremor ran through her body as he recounted what she'd seen. "He attacked his own men. Devoured them whole and tore through them. Those he didn't kill, th-they changed too."

"Wastgeim is ready to take the passengers across," Emmanellain said, oblivious to the terrifying revelation just delivered by Marina. "Perhaps my lady should be the one to let her friends know they've been rescued." He offered her his hand.

"Oh, yes." She accepted the help and stood.

"After you." Emmenallain bowed and let her pass him. Just as he was about to follow her to the cargo hold, Sicard seized the hem of his coat and yanked. The elezen stumbled backward then fell onto his rump. "What?" Upon turning to see the grave expression on the other man's face, he cocked his head to one side.

"We have a problem."

"I should say so. Do you know how delicate the stitching is? It could have ripped."

Sicard ground his teeth. "Sod your stitchin'! I found out what attacked this ship."

Emmanellain paused in his examination of his sleeve. "Oh?"

"It's a Blasphemy."

"A Blasphemy?" the elezen shouted. Upon being shushed by Sicard, he lowered his voice. "Are you sure?"

"Fairly certain, assumin' Marina is tellin' the truth that is."

"Why would she lie about such a thing?" The way his face twisted in confusion at the suggestion Marina might be dishonest was enough to make Sicard snort.

He's too trusting by half, he thought. "Lots of reasons, but I suspect we'll learn more once we can question those folks hidin' in the cargo," he said. "Here, help me stand up. I need to get back to the ship."

Getting to his feet proved more difficult than Sicard thought it would be. Without Emmanellain's solid form to lean against, he doubted he would have managed on his own. The edges of his vision darkened while his head pounded in a brutal rhythm.

"Are you sure you're safe to walk across?" Emmanellain put Sicard's arm over his shoulder and wrapped a hand around his waist.

The hyur smiled at the apparent concern in the other man's tone. "Well, I can't stay here. There's no grog."

"I don't think a drink will help in your condition."

"It won't hurt, neither."

With a resigned sigh, Emmanellain guided Sicard back to the steps leading up to the deck. Given the narrow space, he had to walk behind the hyur while holding onto his hips to make sure he didn't fall. When they were back on the deck, he returned to his side.

Seeing that her captain was injured, Wastgeim rushed over. "Captain, are you all right?"

Sicard waved her off and gestured toward the hatch with his thumb. "I'll be fine after a drink. You get down there and find out what you can from our new passengers. I want every morsel of information you can squeeze out of them. Once they're settled on the Astalicia report back to me."

Wastgeim saluted with an, "Aye aye, sir," then hurried to the door.

"Perhaps I should also lend a hand," Emmanellain suggested. "Miss Marina will surely feel more at ease with a gentleman such as myself by her side."

Sicard rolled his eyes and shoved the elezen away. He staggered a moment before regaining his balance. "Go on then. I don't need your help." Even to his own ears he sounded like a petulant child. "Take care of your new friend." Hurt and anger welled inside him, though he couldn't understand why. He started toward one of the planks connecting Marina's ship with the Astalicia in what he believed was a straight line only to end up several ilms to the right of said plank.

"What is wrong with you?" Emmanellain darted to his side and quickly put an arm around him again. "You're going to fall overboard."

Despite Sicard's grumbling and complaints, Emmanellain managed to successfully guide him back onto the deck of the Astalicia. Once there, Sicard shoved him away and called for one of the crew who knew a little bit of conjury to meet him in his quarters. A puzzled Emmanellain watched the hyur leave the deck, unable to explain to Honoroit what just happened.

[purplebass]

When Life Gives You Onions

I craved more scenes with Will and Tessa and Lucie and Jesse, so that's how this one shot came to be. Bridget prepares onion stew to inadvertently declare her support for Jesse as the future head of the London Institute, an interest of his that he never confessed to anybody. This fic was inspired by several theories about Jesse becoming head of the London Institute after Will decides to retire. Enjoy and also read on A03 💜

It was a day like any other at the London Institute. Tessa, Lucie and Jesse were already seated at the table in the dining room, waiting for Will to arrive. He was always punctual when it concerned food, but that evening, something was delaying him.

“Where’s papa?” Lucie wondered loudly, looking at the door as if her father would appear out of thin air. 

“No idea, dear. I saw him a couple of minutes ago and he just told me that we should start eating without him,” she explained. “Maybe he had to look at some documents in the study, but I’m not sure.”

“You deceived me, Bridget,” they heard Will say from the corridor, his voice bitter. “Again! I told you that I don’t like onions.”

“Onion is good for your health,” she replied. “And for the stew. Don’t eat if you don’t want it.”

Will snorted and finally entered the dining room, a frown marring his face. 

“What happened, dear?” Tessa asked softly. Everyone could tell Will wasn’t in a good mood and that sometimes only his wife could make it better. “We could hear you from here.”

“Nothing, just Bridget as usual. She prepared onion stew again,” he shook his head. “Lately she's been preparing it at least once a week. I hate onions.”

“We know you do,” Lucie commented, exchanging a quick glance with her mother. Her father was a little picky sometimes.

“I asked her nicely not to prepare it when I’m here, but she still does,” Will rolled his eyes. “I wonder why.”

“Oh, I think I know the reason,” Jesse spoke for the first time. Everyone turned their eyes on him and he smiled awkwardly. “Bridget once approached me to ask which food I liked and I told her that onion bread was delicious. She asked me if I also wanted to try her onion stew and I said yes, and that was it. She didn’t ask me anymore. I do appreciate onion stew though.”

“How long ago was that?” Will asked.

“I believe… one month ago?”

“See, that’s when she started using more onions!” Will exclaimed and rolled his eyes. 

Onions are the bane of the blue eyed man resistance But they have pleased the green eyed boy existence I shall then prepare onions for the man’s annoyance Because someday, the boy shall be the one who will give me employance

They heard Bridget sing from the other room, and everyone started to laugh at once, even Will. “Okay, we got it, Bridget,” he hissed, but she continued with another tune.

“She probably really fancies you,” Lucie told Jesse. “And she even thinks you’re going to replace papa someday,” she said giddily. 

“It’s true, Jesse. Bridget may antagonize Will a lot but it’s not like she expresses her love for many people either,” Tessa offered him a smile. “And I think her opinion is long sighted.”

“What do you think, papa?”

Will was still frowning, deep in thought. He was about to answer when Bridget arrived with dinner, carrying a tray with a big pot on it. “Dinner is ready,” she declared proudly. “Onion stew, to toast the Blackthorn boy’s future as Mr. Herondale’s replacement.”

“You’re already kicking me to the curb,” Will replied sourly and glared at the woman. “I see now. It’s not fun, Bridget!” The woman didn’t answer. She just turned and went back to the kitchen, leaving them alone to eat. Will smelled the stew and made a face. “She’s just doing it out of spite, by this point.”

“I could tell her not to make it anymore, since she may listen to me” Jesse offered, but Will shook his head.

“It’s a lovely thought, but no,” Will grinned at him. “I dislike a lot of things and I’m very vocal about it but I’m also a grown man, which means sometimes I have to accept that things can’t always go the way I want to.” Tessa patted her husband’s shoulder in agreement and then they started eating, exchanging a few words every now and then, but not a word anymore regarding Bridget’s song.

After dinner was over, Lucie and Jesse retreated to the drawing room, a warm fire already burning in the hearth. “This must’ve been Bridget’s doing,” Lucie said with glee. The temperatures were dropping, and even if it wasn’t that cold, she’d rather not freeze. She took Jesse’s hand and they sat down shoulder to shoulder on two fluffy pillows on the rug. “She’s so smitten with you.”

“Do you think so?” he shrugged. “I believe she’s just nice because I’m a guest.”

“Trust me, she’s rarely this nice with anyone. I mean, she’s always been good to me, Jamie and mam, but she reprimanded me a lot when I used to sneak out and my parents didn’t know and she had to take me somewhere with the carriage,” she sighed when Jesse frowned at her confession. “But she treats you differently. She’s genuinely happy that you live here.”

“I don’t know. I just think she’s treating me like this because I’m a guest,” he insisted.

“You’re not the first person to stay at the Institute,” she reminded him. “And you’re not a guest! You’re going to be family, Jesse,” she took his hands for emphasis and squeezed. “You’re already part of the family. My parents adore you.”

He gave her his sweetest smile. As always, he couldn’t help but blush whenever he heard that word. “It’s nice to hear it,” he caressed her cheek. “Your parents are kind to me, and I’m thankful everyday that I get to live here as a shadowhunter.”

“What do you think about what Bridget suggested?”

“I will be honest with you,” he looked briefly at the fire, then back at her. They were close. “It does interest me. The Institute business, I mean. At first, I just wanted to make myself useful. I didn’t want to stay here and take advantage of your parents’ hospitality, and you know I’m also restless,” they both laughed. “I was fascinated by what you could do in this position. Not only the bureaucracy stuff, but also the diplomacy stuff. It is more than just being a shadowhunter. You build loyalties, you have to see that everything is fine and that the place is taken care of.”

“You are interested in taking father’s position, after all,” Lucie declared with a smirk. 

They were silent for a moment, and Lucie rested her head on his shoulder. He dared to hold her, and let his hand linger on her arm and rub the area gently. “I’m curious,” he muttered, “about your thoughts.”

“I’m not surprised that you like what my parents do,” she confessed. “They are amazing. The job is not easy by any means, and I can tell they have to endure so much because there are a lot of people who still have prejudices against their union and their position in our society,” she sighed. “You’ve spent enough time here, you’ve seen how they are and how my father is. He has charisma and he charms people, and I think you possess these qualities as well.”

“Just because Bridget likes me?”

“Come on, Jesse. You know it’s not just Bridget. I think James and Cordelia’s maid Effie is also smitten by you,” she said. “And Esme Hardcastle. Let’s not forget about her.”

“Ah, the family tree girl,” he nodded. “She once asked me if we were going to get married.”

“You affect people positively,” Lucie continued, ignoring the second comment. She was twisting her hands in her lap to find the words. “I’ve seen how people glance at you when we are at events. They wish to be considered by you. People are charmed by you when you answer their awkward and intrusive questions.”

“Some people really don’t know how to mind their own business,” he commented, “but that’s expected. That’s why I sometimes give them ridiculous answers.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she said. “And people seem to buy whatever you say. That’s why I believe you’d do well in papa’s role. Have you ever told him? I’m sure he’d be happy to help you.”

Jesse sighed. “No, not yet. I don’t know how he’d take it. You’ve seen him today, after Bridget sang that song. He’s still young, and it’s early for him to retire. And I’m still young, and I think I still have a lot to learn before I can apply for such a position.”

“Well, papa became head of the Institute at nineteen, Jesse,” she shrugged, and tilted her head so that her eyes would be level with his. “I don’t believe he’s going to retire any time soon, but I don’t believe he’s going to refuse to show you the ropes either. And mam too.”

“So, should I…” he let the question linger in the air.

Lucie nodded and offered him a loving smile. “You definitely should.”

Jesse beamed at her and kissed her hand. She placed her head back on his shoulder and he held her until she said she was too tired to stay there. Jesse agreed that it was time to sleep, and after he wished Lucie goodnight and was about to go to his room, Will appeared in the corridor, as if he had been waiting for him to be alone.

“Jesse,” Will murmured, his voice uncharacteristically low. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied, trying not to sound too alarmed. Alarmed for what, though? It wasn’t like they were doing anything inappropriate in the drawing room. 

“Let’s go to my office,” said Will, without adding more. The two of them walked in silence, and this made Jesse expectant. He’d only been in Will’s office once, after he and Tessa returned from Idris where they had been tried with the Mortal Sword. He helped them store the Institute records back into their cabinets safely. Jesse had continued helping them at the Institute after then, but he never crossed the doorway to Will’s office again. 

The door was slightly ajar, and the soft light of the oil lamp created a homely atmosphere. There were two upholstered armchairs in front of the mahogany desk, and a couple of books lay half open by the edge. On the main chair, behind the massive desk, sat Tessa. She was reading, and when he and Will closed the door behind them, she glanced up and smiled in acknowledgment.

“Have a seat, dear,” Tessa said, and Jesse occupied the chair on the left, the closest to the window. Will sat on the chair beside him, to his surprise. 

When they were all seated, Jesse spoke first. “What’s wrong?” he wondered, shifting in his seat. It wasn’t the first time he had talked to Will or Tessa alone, and he knew they meant well. Still. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“You have something in your hair,” Will said, and Jesse frowned, but he didn’t touch his head. He had probably noticed his uneasiness and wanted to make him comfortable. 

“Will,” Tessa reprimanded him, and the two exchanged a quick glance. 

“See? He knew it wasn’t true,” he said, and Tessa offered Jesse a sympathetic grin. “Jesse, son,” Will continued, his expression turning serious. “I think I left an answer hanging earlier, and me and Tessa talked about it after dinner.” Jesse, who was still not used to Will calling him son, gaped his mouth open slightly, but didn’t answer. “We know that you like to make yourself useful here, and we’re grateful for all the things you do.”

Jesse swallowed. “You don’t have to thank me. I know I have to earn my keep here.”

“See, I don’t think it’s just that,” Will tilted his head to the side. “We genuinely see that you care about the Institute. Not just because you live here and you believe you have to prove something to us because you intend to marry our daughter someday,” he said, holding his gaze. “You enjoy doing this. If there’s one thing I’ve learned while you’ve lived here, is that if you don’t want to do something, you simply don’t. You don’t do things half-heartedly. If you did not care about this place and it was all just an act, it would’ve ended a long time ago.”

He grinned at Will, not shocked that he knew how to read him. “I do,” Jesse answered honestly. “And I would really like to do more and to learn more from you, if you don’t mind.”

Will looked at Tessa briefly, and she smiled. “That’s all we needed to hear,” he grinned too. “If you want to learn how to take care of the Institute, we will help you, we will teach you. So that someday…” he trailed off, and offered a bigger smile. “Well, to start, first thing tomorrow I have to go run an errand,” he continued, standing up from his chair. He picked up a leather-bound book that looked old and worn from a shelf, and put it on the desk. Jesse realized that it was a romance novel. “Wait for me at ten at the portal downstairs. We’re going to Idris.”

“I really want to learn,” he said with confidence. “For that someday.” He was feeling suddenly refreshed and excited. “I’ll be there.”

Will seemed pleased, and he saw Tessa beam at him too. “Wonderful,” he said, and put a hand over Tessa’s shoulder. She touched his hand affectionately, seemingly happy about this new turn of events. “I’m sure you’ll like what we’re going to do tomorrow. It’s one of my favorite things to do,” he gazed away, lost in his thoughts. “Now, where did I put the newspaper?”

“Alright, I think I’ll go now,” Jesse considered the conversation over, and he stood up, politely wishing them goodnight. Will and Tessa told him to rest well, and Will added that he couldn’t wait to take him to run this errand the day after. He was content that they were so welcoming toward his career goal, and he couldn’t wait either. 

Jesse closed the door behind him, brimming over with excitement. He thought of knocking on Lucie’s door to let her know of the developments, which was something against the rules, when he heard Will and Tessa’s voices and decided to linger for a moment to listen. “You know, I’m so glad that Jesse wants to learn how to manage here,” Tessa said. “I did suspect he was interested, but we never talked about it.”

“Yes, I’m relieved that he finally told us. And I hate to say it, but it’s also thanks to Bridget and her onion stew song,” Will agreed, and Jesse could hear footsteps inside. Perhaps he was still looking for the newspaper. “Because when I’m old and I just want to enjoy the rest of my life, at least I know that there will be someone as dedicated as we were to look after our house,” he sighed. “I mean, I know it’s not our house literally, but – you get it.”

“I do,” she replied softly, and he could hear the hint of affection that both had for the London Institute. “I’m happy for him, glad he’s finding his way,” she continued, and a smile appeared on Jesse’s face. “It’s under that pile of books, your newspaper,” Tessa said. “Oh, and Will. Weren’t you going to read this tonight? For our challenge. You promised.”

Will sighed. “I haven’t forgotten, Tess. There it is,” he muttered after a beat. “I’m not in the mood for book romance tonight.” He heard Tessa laugh and then the exchange took a path that he wished to erase from his memory. He fled to his room, hoping to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a good day.

[fainthedcherry]

PARAMORE RELEASED THEIR A24 TRIBUTE COVER TODAY. AND I GOT INSPIRED BY THE LYRICS AND THE VISUALIZER.

IMAGE CREDITS BC VERY OBVIOUSLY THIS IS AN EXPERIMENTAL PIC COLLAGE PIECE PRIMARILY BELOW DESC (I DID NOT TAKE THE COOL PICS OBV.)

OK GIANT CREDIT BLOCK GO (Freepik and pexels my beloved saved my entire college year lmao):

1 OCEAN WAVES

2 OCEAN WAVES AGAIN

3 YES A THIRD OCEAN WAVE

4 VERY COOL DROPLETS

5 FLAME. OO FIRE PRETTYYY /POS

6 BG I CHEATED YOU INTO BELIEVING IS RAIN

The drawing though is made by my acoustic arse /lh

THE LYRICS ARE TAKEN FROM THE VID I LINKED. HAYLEY'S VOICE MY BELOVED AND FOREVER DEAREST ENTIRE BAND /POSPOSPOS. I wanna sing like Hayley so badly, she is such an idol to me, when it comes to vocals and I wish to sing as expressive as her some day 🤧✨💖

--

WHAT MORE CAN I SAY, OTHER THAN I'VE BEEN EXPERIMENTING WITH SHORT DRAWINGS, THAT TAKE UNDER A DAY TO COMPLETE TO FIGURE OUT SOME THINGS I WANNA DO AS AN ARTIST AND POSSIBLY COMMISSIONS. + These drawings genuinely kinda de-stress so it's been free therapy too, oops. I wanna do more of these vector-style drawings, that are just me taking lyrics and creating these fun collages, of things that inspire me or I like. It's a chill practice and lets my creativity actually do the work for once, instead of my usual need to outdo myself in every drawing and improve lmao. Improvement is cool and all, but dear god did I not realise how hard my need for perfection last year stress and strangle me tf out. I seriously need to re-evaluate the way I approach art as this massive, intimidating medium, when most artists literally draw for fun, and for me it's been like...A Sisyphean task.

--

If you enjoyed seeing this, I might make a sequel with C'est Comme Ca and w/ Marco in it instead and a red BG,, if I want to, I might turn these into a series, just like those aesthetic icon drawings I made of my 2 boys, started Lotta, and IMMEDIATELY lost that sketch due to my USB's death back in 2022 and lost all motivation for art due to that massive loss /neg

--

Not sure what else to add here other than my thoughts that I already did!! Other than ofc, the usual, MASSIVE thank you to my friend Hollowed-Hartlocke for introducing me to Paramore back in 2019 <3

Think I'm done rambling now tho!! OH WAIT. I can add, that I had to actually pull out Adobe Illustrator just to add stretched text for aesthetic purposes. Then I got so impatient with the effects panel not showing me the usual layer-effects and me being too lazy to look up, whether InDesign was the one, that had the usual layer effects I use in an Adobe program or not. Btw still mooching off my college acc that shoulda been dead long ago but just isn't??? LMAO I'M STILL GONNA USE IT IF I CAN ALRIGHT.

OH YEAH BTW. This drawing took 3 hours. NO I'M NOT KIDDING. PEOPLE WOULD PROBABLY BE SHOCKED THAT SUCH A LAZY LOOKING PIECE TOOK SO LONG. BUT I GENUINELY AM RATHER SHOOK THAT I TOOK SUCH LITTLE TIME TO CREATE THIS. TBF I threw MOST proportion checks and canvas flips I do out the window, so there's a BIG chance I will hate this, if I flip the canvas xD ANYWAY I RAMBLED LONG ENOUGH I THINK NOW. JUST ENJOY EXPERIMENTAL ART

^Before-bed edit; Yeah his torso's a TAD too much leaning to the left, it's off-center to the rotation of his pelvis to be in fact, but maybe? I'll roll with this mistake. It kinda gives the piece its abstract nature..I kinda like the mistake?? This is the first time in my life I ever tolerated a mistake I did and now declare it on purpose and will probably build one into the next piece as well. Hell, maybe it'll yield an interesting result. Anyway, it's 12PM as I write this, and I have to get up at 4AM for my train soOooo, yeah, gotta sleep ASAP for school.

I have NO clue again what to 100% accurately tag this, so forgive me if the tags are wrong LMAO, I just will believe what I believe it has overlaps w/ within art-genre.

This piece kiiinda gives pop art??? So I'm gonna tag it as such as well, but but might be incorrect. If a pop-art enjoyer wants to correct me, PLEASE DO. I'm going off the definitions of pop-art I learned in high-school. So I could most def be wrong about me adding this tag in particular. How tf do people confidently tag their posts when I doubt almost every tag I add man. Tagging is the worst part of uploading art to me due to how hard it is to label art really, not meant to be in a genre. xD

Def adding Paramore tags tho bc I NEED to know more Paramore fans out there bc we feel like such a tiny community, when they're literally one of the most influential rock bands of the 2000s and 2010s imho AUGH

[melodic-haze]

hi!! could I request ayaka nsfw headcanons? thanks!

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Ayaka x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Corruption kink, exhibition kink but it doesn't acc get acted upon 🤷‍♀️

☆ — NOTES: shut up omg another one I LOEV AYAKA THANK YOU

She seems like the type to be extremely vanilla at first, not bc she's scared (well no she is a lil bit) but bc she hasn't really? Had the chance to explore or anything??? But she seems like the type to be interested in it, just that she didn'r know HOW to explore it......until yk. You came along

She's like a willing subject to corruption, it's rather lovely 🫶

The way she'd approach you about it too 😭😭 like ohhh you're so precious my bbg :((( she'd breach the topic carefully, her cheeks tinted very red thanks to her skin betraying her and the blood that rushed to her face

Side track as much as I do adore Ayaka stumbling on her words and stuttering, I actually personally don't think she would unless she was EXTREMELY flustered or completely out of it. She's probably really good with forming sentences and stuff with very minimal stuttering, esp when she'd have to think ab her speech a lot to make sure she isn't offending anyone generally (I wish that were me cuz I stutter a LOT it's acc embarrassing)

So when she asks, she's VERY red but also very clear and concise with her speech. If it weren't for the embarrassed look on her face, if it weren't for her covering her face with her fan, you'd have thought that she wasn't shy about such an ask at all

It was hard to concentrate and gather your bearings at least a little bit when the soft scent of cookies and the mochi she had made a while ago never fails to overtake your train of thought, but you managed to pull through as you slowly undressed her.

"Are you completely sure?" You asked in concern for her, despite the fact that she had approached you about such a request, "I'm worried you might not like the experience. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable..."

She shook her head in reply, giving you a gentle smile, "I'm sure. I admit that I've been.. curious, and I trust you completely."

You couldn't help but soften at your white-haired partner's proclamation, giving her a lingering kiss on her temple, "Just remember to tell me if something feels wrong, you know I worry for you."

"I know," she giggled, "but you don't need to treat me like I'm fragile."

And before you reply in turn, Ayaka cuts you off by leaning her head on your shoulder, her lips close to your ear as she whispered in such a tantalising way--

"I'd like to think I can handle whatever you do to me."

--before drawing back with a much cheekier smile compared to moments before, "I hope that clears most of your reservations?"

By god, yes it does.

She turns out to be a FREAK❗️❗️❗️👹👹👹👹

No but fr though? I already wrote it but she def love love LOVEEEESSS being your good girl 🥰🥰🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 wants to do anything you ask her to do bc she wants to make you happy. Absolutely gets off to whenever you praise her for the stuff she does

But also? Kinda very much adores being roughed around!!! Being an important figure to Inazuma, she's not necessarily used to being treated anything less than with respect and caution, so for you to essentially make her forget all that as you "disrespect" her rank? Mmmmyes definitely Something :3

She's a very very curious person who's open to a LOT of things, going from binding to sensory deprivation to roleplay

Oh my GOD she'd ESPECIALLY be into roleplay; pretending as if she were someone else, esp if she was absolutely ravaged by you? My word it gets her wet just thinking about it

I think she'd LOVEEEE to be overstimmed 🫶🫶🫶 she wants a break from thinking!! She wants a break from responsibilities, and the way you can make it easily go away by fucking her brains out gets so addicting for this little princess

SHE'D DEFINITELY BE A SQUIRTER OH GY GOD fuck off listen she's def so so very sensitive that if you work her up enough (which doesn't acc take long) she would and she'd APOLOGISE for making such a mess but you just Cannot Help but try to get another one from her so it goes around alllll over again until she passes out :3

Don't think she'd act it out irl bc no way is she actually risking her reputation (and in extent, her brother's and her entire family name), but she'd develop?? A taste for exhibition???? Perhaps it's through the times you've just decided to drag her away to a semi-secluded spot, or maybe it's bc of the times she's touched herself while thinking of you with the risk of SOMEONE coming into her room. Either way, she starts to fantasize scenes from time to time where you're fucking her out in the open or you get caught or even that she's walking around with her pussy unknowingly stuffed with toys, who knows 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

If she doesn't tell you then she probably clues you in unconsciously when you start talking to her about how ANYONE could find you absolutely ruining this whore of a princess 🫶 by her inner walls clamping onto you as she lets out a particularly loud whine 🫶🫶🫶

Ayaka had tried to go back to sleep, she really did. But her thoughts had caught up to her, hazy made-up images and scenarios of the simplest thought of getting caught doing things unbefitting the White Heron Princess and her demure, innocent stature.

Even as she had her fingers inside her needy hole, even as she grinded on her palm in a deaperate effort to chase that needed release, she had found that she couldn't be satisfied in the least. The fact that she had to silence herself in an effort to prevent herself from getting caught didn't help with sorting out her current issue, either.

It wasn't enough—she needed you to satisfy her, to put her in her place, to take her fully until she could no longer care to think about anything else but being your personal doll. There was no way she was getting off all by herself, she needed you.

Biting the fabric of her blanket in an effort to stop her teary moans from being as loud as it would've been, she could only hope any pray that this aching need within her subsides in time before she has the chance to see you again.

(And perhaps she'll gather the courage to ask you about recreating.. a very exposing scenario, to sate her torturous curiosities.)

Bonus bullet point it'd be really cute to see her cry from the stimulation 🥰🥰

[that-writer-101]

You Idiot

Loki x Reader

REUPLOAD

Author notes: Re-uploaded from my old acc marvel-writer-101

Thor and Loki were sent on a simple mission together. Why those two are ever sent on a mission together you will never understand, but you dont make the calls.

They were out for about 5 hours. Loki came back bloody and still bleeding, and fighting with his brother.

"PLAN 'gEt hElP' NEVER WORKS! STOP IT!"

"They're dead, aren't they? I think it worked out wonderfully, brother!"

You interrupt them. "Usually I would ask what happened, but seeing what's already going on, I dont think I want to. Thor didn't we specifically say to patch your brother up if he got hurt?"

"He didn't want my help."

"You idiot." You roll your eyes and drag him off to the mini med bay near your room used for situations like this.

Loki sits down on the edge of the doctor table thing and you grab what you need. He had open wounds on his arms, his lower left leg, a slightly cut lip, and a cut right above his right eye.

"You really wouldn't let your brother help you?" You sigh.

"Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?" Loki said, a slight smirk on his face.

You gave a small smile and laugh, the two of you had been jokingly flirting for the past few weeks, but it was just platonic... Right?

You started with the slice on his leg, it was pretty shallow, but was still bleeding quite a bit. You started to wipe the dried blood off with a wet cotton ball.

"I literally finished sewing the holes in your outfit yesterday, you already had to mess it up again?"

"Blame my brother, he was the one who insisted on using the plan 'gEt hElP'."

You simply roll your eyes at him as you finish wiping up the blood. You grab a roll of bandages and wrap the wound up.

You then move to his left arm, this one was much deeper. You grab the stitching kit.

"What in midgard is that?"

"You need stitches, this cut is pretty deep. What, afraid of needles or somethin'?" You joke, waving the needle around in front of his face.

Loki just glared at you, then just shook his head and laughed.

You hid a smile, you loved his laugh. You go back to caring for the injured idiot. Your injured idiot.

Wait what?! You didn't think of him like that!

You wipe the blood off his arm and apply some numbing cream. After the effects kick in you start stitching up his arm.

"This doesn't hurt at all, right?"

"Not a bit, darling."

Your cheeks turned a light pink. You loved the nickname.

You finish stitching his arm and move to the other one. His other arm didn't have any deep cuts, just a lot of smaller ones.

You bandaged up pretty much his entire arm.

Then onto his face.

You start cleaning the cut above his eye. You start to wipe it off with a wet q-tip. Loki flinches a bit.

"Oooooow!" He whined dramatically, it was adorable.

Oh.

Oh.

So maybe you did think about him like that.

"Suck it up, you're a god aren't you? I'm sure a little q-tip wont do much damage to anything else but your ego."

You wet the q-tip again and start to wipe it off more.

"How do you manage to make a wet q-tip hurt?!"

"I dont know, how do you manage to get a cut right above your eye?"

"Touché."

"Okay pick somewhere to look and dont move your eyes, you moving them is making this overly difficult."

You continue to clean the wound, which took quite a long time considering the placement.

Though, you quickly realized that Loki was staring at your lips, so that made you blush a bit more.

You put a bandaid on the wound then go to the final injury on this idiot, his cut lip.

You grab another cotton ball and put a dab of water on it.

"I would ask you how this happened, but you probably wouldn't give me a good answer."

"Hey you got something right for once."

"Yeah yeah, now shush it so i can wipe this off."

You know from the last injury that his face is overly sensitive, so you were very gentle while wiping off his lip.

It was at this moment that you realized you were literally staring at his lips.

You thought about how soft they would be if you kissed them..

WHAT?!

What were you thinking?! He doesn't like you like that!!

You continued to gently wipe the blood off, occasionally using your thumb to move his lip a bit to get all the blood off.

You were looking at his lip to make sure you were done getting the blood off. You use your thumb to move his lip a bit just to be sure.

"You done?"

"Yup!"

"Good."

The next thing you know, he kisses you?!

Your eyes go wide and your face red.

Loki notices this and pulls back.

"Pardon me.. I-i probably shouldn't have done tha-.."

You cut him off by giving him a kiss.

You feel his face burn up against yours. The two of you were blushing like there was no tomorrow.

You only broke the kiss when you needed to take a breath.

His eyes met yours. Loki just muttered, "Fuck I love you..." In the most handsome voice you have ever heard, then kissed you again.

He pulled back and looked at you with a smirk.

You raise an eyebrow, "What's with the loo-"

You get cut off by kisses and nibbles on your neck.

Loki hits a soft spot and you moan lightly. He does it a few more times until you, right in his ear, quietly moan, "Loki~"

His face goes beet red.

You quietly laughed at his face, he was flustered and quite shocked.

You successfully flustered a god, that's something you never thought you'd be able to say.

You give him another kiss, then clean up your work space.

"So.. Are we like.. A thing now..?" Loki asked, watching you clean.

"Only if you want us to be, darling." You used his own nickname on him.

"Then we are, but find your own little petname! Darling is for me to use on you, not vice versa!"

You giggle at that, "Alright, then you're my idiot."

You finish cleaning up and help him off the doctor table, as you walk out of the room you turn back to him.

"Oh by the way,"

"Hm?"

"I love you, too. :)"