#they couldn’t settle on an eye shape for him. me neither

[markbandanawitts]

day 50 ⁉️⁉️

everybody step back….. i used color correctly today….

THIS IS GONNA BE MY LAST DAILY DAY !! THE MARKBANDANAWITTS IS REBRANDING!!! i’m still gonna be drawing saburo a ton but it’s not gonna be everyday; i’ve been posting here for 50 days but i’ve actually been doing it for 130 lmao

i enjoy drawing him as much as i do BUT not doing it everyday will probably remove any art block/clutter drawings and give me more time to draw other characters as well . very proficient and rational see guys

[prettyfastcars]

'til I touch, touch, touch you | Mob!Lewis

Summary: Lewis finds out that you have a thing for his hands. 

Themes: explicit language, smut, fluff, praise kink, daddy kink

“Why are you sitting so far?” 

He dared ask, looking at you like he didn’t know what he was doing to you. Manspreading on the other side of the couch, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows revealing his tattoos, all the buttons of his shirt were undone so you could see his muscular, tattooed chest clearly, and his braids tied neatly at the back. 

He looked confused as to why you put all that distance between you and him on the large couch. If you sat any closer, you’d end up getting on his lap and beg him to fuck you till the morning. And he’d been working late these past few days, he looked a little tired. He deserved a little rest, you thought. 

But fuck. Those soft eyes he made at you weren’t helping. And his damn hands. One holding a whiskey glass, and the other extended towards you. You tried your hardest to look away from them. Tattoos all over his fingers, and all his rings… you took a deep breath and said, “It’s comfy here.” 

He frowned at you and tried again, “Babygirl,” He spoke in that irresistible voice of his, “Come sit with daddy, I missed you all day.” 

Ah, screw it. You gave up resisting and crawled to him until you settled right beside him, throwing your legs over his lap and leaned into the warmth of his bare chest. You couldn’t help but lean down and kiss his warm skin, right above the compass tattoo. 

“I missed you too.” You murmured, letting your lips brush over his skin. Then you nearly groaned when he brought his hand over to caress your exposed thigh. As if just looking at them weren’t torture enough, now he was gliding those slightly rough, tattooed fingers all over your skin. 

You nearly stopped breathing altogether when his fingers began getting closer and closer to your inner thighs. Your little satin PJ set wasn’t hiding much of your body anyway. 

“How was your day?” He asked, keeping an eye on what was playing on the TV while his hand mindlessly caressing your thigh. 

You couldn’t look away. Those hands had been your fixation for a while now. “Uh,” You struggled to respond, “It was fine. I did, you know, stuff.” 

Damn him. His hand slowly inched even further up your thigh, stopping you from even thinking coherently. 

“Hmm. What else?” 

You opened your mouth to answer but his fingers teased your upper thigh and you couldn’t help but groan. Leaning more into his touch as you hid your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious and you groaned even louder. 

Lewis chuckled. “You think I haven’t noticed you’ve been staring at my hands?” You refused to look him in the eyes so he continued. “You’ve been doing it a lot lately, haven’t you? What is it? They turn you on?” 

You whined, trying to close your legs but he tightened his grip on your thigh and you couldn’t move. 

“You like my hands?” He teased, placing his glass down and bringing his other hand to cup your face. 

You finally pulled away from his neck so you could look up at him, and nodded shyly. 

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “Where do you want them?” 

You mumbled something but it was neither coherent nor audible. 

Lewis brough his thumb over to your mouth, tracing the shape of your lips as he said, “Louder baby, use your words. Where do you want daddy’s hands?”

“All over me.” 

His pretty brown eyes stared deep into yours as he smirked. “Come here,” He said, pulling you onto his lap. 

You straddled him like you had the habit of doing and waited, and watched how his hands went back to your thighs, inching higher and higher up your leg, caressing your inner thighs. He smirked when you moaned and kept going. Sliding those gorgeous, tattooed hands all over your soft skin. The cold metal of his rings made you shiver. 

His hands had done terrible things given the nature of his job. He had hurt, maimed, pulled so many triggers, ended lives even, but they were so gentle with you. So careful. 

He leaned in to kiss your jaw and down your neck, his stubbled brushing against your skin gently. His lips warm and soft as they brushed all over your skin. His knuckles brushed against the front of the flimsy PJ shorts you were wearing. 

He whispered, with his lips hovering over the corner of your mouth. “I can feel how wet you are, baby.” He slipped his hand past the waistband, into your thin underwear and touched you gently. His fingers circled around your clit, before he pushed a finger in, then another and started gently moving them in and out of you. “Is this what you wanted? Hmm?” 

He placed his thumb on your throbbing clit and brushed it occasionally while he finger-fucked you, your wetness dripping and smearing all over his hand. You threw your head back and moaned when his fingers touched you in all the right places, curling just right and massaging your sensitive spots perfectly.

His other hand gently wrapped around your neck, not squeezing yet but just holding you firmly. You got just a little louder as he sped up, his fingers slipping in and out of you with ease. 

“Look down,” He said, “Look how well you’re taking daddy’s fingers.” 

You did. And fuck if it didn’t make you whine and moan even louder. 

And seeing you were whining and whimpering already, he decided to torture you more by moving his hand from your throat, “Open up, baby.” He whispered, pushing two fingers past your lips and into your mouth and slowly pumped those two as well. 

Your lips immediately wrapped around his fingers. And he smirked at the sight of you, with two of his fingers buried in your wet core, slipping in and out of you rapidly while his other two fingers were buried into your warm mouth. His rings clinked against your teeth as he did. 

“Do they feel good?” 

You nodded desperately, clenching around his fingers. 

The sounds you made alone were enough to make his pants feel tighter, and make him want to tease you even more. “Yeah? You like being completely stuffed, don’t you? Look at you, look how well you take it. Daddy’s perfect little slut, hmm?” 

Your muffled moans, the way his hands moved against your skin, his fingers in your mouth, in your cunt… it was all too much. Soon you had tears streaming down your face. 

He removed his fingers from your mouth and wrapped his hand around your throat again, squeezing just a little as he brought your face closer to his. His breath was just as ragged as yours, his lips inches away from yours. “Are you gonna come, baby? You’re gonna come for daddy?” 

You nodded, moaning when he sped up again, his fingers stroking your walls perfectly and increasing the sweet, almost agonizing pressure forming in between your hips. 

You rolled your hips against his hand in a haze, chasing your orgasm, moaning and whimpering. “Come for me, babygirl.” He encouraged you and tightened his grip around your throat just a little bit more.

And you couldn’t hold it anymore, you let the familiar waves of pleasure wash over you as you came all over his fingers, crying out loud in pleasure. Gushing out all over his hand as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, getting everything he could out of you. He finally pressed his lips to yours and kissed you hard. 

You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself then. You hurried to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, lowering the waistband of his underwear to free his erected cock. The mere sight of his perfect cock had you whimpering with need again.

You got off his lap and dropped to kneel in between his legs immediately. You reached out and wrapped your hands around his base and placed your mouth on his cock immediately, your tongue slowly circling his tip. He groaned and spread his legs further apart, inching his hips slightly forward as you took more of him into your mouth.

He sighed as he leaned back and grabbed his glass of whiskey again and sipped on it as he watched you suck his cock, bobbing your head around him just like how he liked it. You took him inch by inch until he filled your mouth completely. 

“Fuck, baby…” He swore under his breath again as you hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper into your mouth. “You feel so fucking good.” His praise gave you a rush.

You wanted more. You took most of his cock into your mouth and repeated your actions again and again. 

He moaned and growled occasionally. He bucked his hips forward very gently into your mouth, and loved the sight of your spit coating his cock. You looked magnificent on your knees, taking him perfectly. You always did. 

You took him out of your mouth and teased him a little bit, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls as you gently stroked him. His taste and scent was all you could focus on. 

He swore under his breath at your teasing, as you dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip lazily. He looked down at you with a warning in his pretty brown eyes, his glass of whiskey just an inch or two from his plump lips. “Don’t tease me, babygirl.” He spoke, his voice carrying nothing but authority and lust. 

So you got back to it while looking him in the eye. You took him back into your mouth and sucked on his cock until he was so close to coming undone all over your tongue, groaning and grunting in pleasure. You sped up your actions because you liked the sounds which left his lips while he was right on the edge.

“Fuck… slow down, babygirl.” He moaned, breathlessly as he came into your mouth. His thigh muscles tensing and his hips thrusting gently up into your mouth.

You swallowed all that he gave you and you licked him clean before climbing onto his lap again. This time after taking your clothes off. 

“You’re such a good girl for daddy, you know that?” He said, after catching his breath for a second or two. Hands reaching up to cup your face. “You want more?” 

You nodded again, licking your lips for any remnant taste of him. Lewis smirked and pushed you back down on the couch before he slid inside of you again, effortlessly. And the two of you moaned in unison as he filled you up again, your walls already gripping him tightly as your back arched off the couch. 

“Fuck…” You whimpered. 

His one hand wrapped around your throat while the other held on to your hip, keeping you in place. You felt his cock stretching you, filling you up. Every inch of him sliding into your tight cunt. You could feel your eyes tearing up at how snug he felt inside you. And his hand around your throat… fuck. 

He held your stare as he reached down to grab your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He looked down to where your bodies connected, quickly spitting right on your clit, his thumb spreading the wetness around as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss, swallowing your desperate moan in the process.

“Please,” You mumbled against his mouth. You couldn’t help your loud moans which followed as he moved his hips the slightest bit. His cock moving in and out of you. 

“Please what, babygirl?” Lewis pulled away and watched you as you whined at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you.

“Fuck me, please.” You whimpered, then felt your walls clenching around him as he finally sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 

“You feel so fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “So perfect for daddy.” 

You moaned at how perfect his hard, muscular, tattooed chest felt against yours, his weight pressing down on you. His slight stubble tickled your skin as he moved. His soft lips brushing against your skin as he kissed you everywhere he could. 

Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body, tight and hot.

Lewis looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at me, babygirl.” When you did, he whispered, “Daddy loves you. So much. You understand?” 

You nodded. The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 

He gave you a lazy smile, “Then be a good girl and come for daddy.” His hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. He leaned in, giving you a messy kiss. “Come all over my cock, baby. Come on.” 

You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core yet again and you whined when his hand let go of your throat and his fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.

Lewis loved that look on your face, that look of utter bliss, pain, pleasure, lust and hunger all at once. “That’s it, babygirl. You’re taking me so well, look at you. Now come, come all over me,” He whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him. 

Whimpering and back arching off the couch as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him. He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. 

He growled as he buried his cock deep inside you, coming undone right after you. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, feeling some of his cum drip down your thighs before he dropped carefully on top of you. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked, gently kissing your neck while his hands touched you everywhere they could, rubbing up and down your sides, and thighs. 

“Yeah,” You breathed, placing a hand on top of one of his, toying with his rings. 

“Wanna go to bed?” 

You sighed. “Don’t think I can walk just yet, give me a minute.”

[burningembers91]

The Shape of You - Park Gyeong-Seok x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to

Loving You From Afar

Synopsis: When babysitting Na-Yeon, you discover one of Park Gyeong-Seok’s secrets.

You were looking after Na-Yeon when you found the drawings. One of her Barbie’s shoes had fallen down the side of the sofa, and as you leaned down to retrieve it, you felt the wads of paper stuff between the sofa and wall. Pulling them onto your lap, you were shocked to see at least a dozen drawings and paintings of you. There were ones of your whole body, ones of just your face, ones where you were laughing, and one where you were staring off into the distance. You had no idea Gyeong-Seok had been drawing you, had no idea why he’d kept these hidden. You’d never thought of yourself as particularly beautiful and yet he’d managed to capture you in the most stunning light. He was out until late evening, taking on some extra work as an art teacher in a local night school, but you needed to find out why he drawn you so many times and then hidden them away.

You fed Na-Yeon and read her to sleep, before settling back on the sofa with the pictures. Gyeong-Seok had captured you so perfectly, had painted you in a light you’d never seen yourself in. you couldn’t stop looking at the images in front of you, wondering if this was how he saw you. You so looked so confident, so sure of yourself and so naturally beautiful. You tried comparing your reflection to the drawing but somehow, Gyeong-Seok had managed to capture you better than a mirror ever could.

The TV was down low when he arrived home. He’d has such a great evening, and there had even been talk of giving him a more permanent position. It would mean more money for him and Na-Yeon, more money to maybe finally take you out on a date. He stopped dead when he saw you, still clutching the drawings he thought he’d hidden so carefully.

“I…” He stood dumbstruck as you held them up to him.

“These are really good,” you smiled. “I had no idea.”

“I…” Again, Gyeong-Seok seemed unable to form words, the embarrassment creeping up his face like a red-hot poker. You weren’t meant to see those drawings; he never should have made them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, “I look… you’ve made me look more beautiful than I’ve ever felt before.”

“I was just painting you how I see you,” he shrugged, shifting his bag from his shoulder to the rickety kitchen table.

“But I look so beautiful,” you whispered, still unable to believe that you were the person depicted on the pages.

“Well,” he said quietly, so quietly you barely heard him. “It’s because you are. You are beautiful.”

You both stood staring at each other, both wondering what came next. He wanted to kiss you so badly, to show you that you were so much more beautiful than you ever gave yourself credit for. You both slowly closed the gap between you, the air buzzing with the growing tension.

“Say it again,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on him.

“You are beautiful,” he replied. “And funny, and kind, and so good to me and Na-Yeon.”

You were mere inches apart now, your faces so close he could see the specks of colour dotted in your irises. “You are so beautiful,” he repeated, his hand coming to rest gingerly on your cheek.

His lips met yours, soft and sweet, both of you testing the water. This felt so good, so right, and neither of you could believe you’d denied yourselves this happiness for so long. His fingers caressed your neck, your arms entwining round his waist as you deepened the kiss, the tips of your tongues meeting as you explored one another. Gyeong-Seok wanted you, needed you. He needed to feel every inch of your skin, needed to hear you moan his name as he fucked you. He led you gently to his threadbare sofa, never once breaking your kiss. But it was you who gently pushed him down into the pillows. It was you who straddled him, removing his checkered shirt as your lips traced the sweet contours of his neck. You’d thought about fucking him right here on this very sofa more times that you could count. Gyeong-Seok had so much pent-up stress inside of him, and you were dying to release it. There would be time to explore each other properly; right now, you both just needed to quell the deep aches between your legs.

Pushing him down further into the cushions, you removed his faded grey t-shirt, giggling quietly as he helped remove your sweater. You looked so perfect in the dim light of the TV, your curves more perfect than he ever could have imagined. His torso was toned, his arms surprisingly strong as he manoeuvred your body on top of his. He heard the sound of his jeans unzipping, felt your hand dip into his underwear and gently grip his cock. He had to clamp his hand over his mouth to supress the moan that fell from his lips. It had been so long since anyone had touched him like this, and he’d forgotten how good it felt. You bit back another giggle, hopping off the sofa to fully remove his jeans. As you pulled down your skirt and underwear, Gyeong-Seok looked up at you from his reclined position on the sofa. Reaching his hand up, his slid his fingers ever so gently through your slick folds. Now it was your turn to supress a moan as he slipped two fingers inside you. You were so wet, so perfect and he smiled as you shivered against his touch. You couldn’t bare it any longer; you needed each other.

You climbed on top of him, lowering yourself down on his hard cock, your lips meeting in a crashing kiss as you desperately sought to subdue your moans. You moved against each other, Gyeong-Seok’s hips thrusting into you in the sweetest of rhythms. His hands traced your stomach, your breasts, his fingers tracing delicate circles over your flushed skin. he felt you shudder against him as you reached your peak, your teeth grazing his lower lip in quiet ecstasy. He wasn’t far behind you, his hands gripping your hips as he spilled himself inside of you.

you stayed with him that night, cuddled up on the sofa bed with the threadbare fabric and the broken springs. Gyeong-Seok held you as you slept, the scent of your perfume already staining his sheets. Tomorrow, he would ask you out for that cup of coffee. Tomorrow, he would finally ask out the girl he’d fallen in love with.

[thegettingbyp2]

38 -Jess Mariano

We're Not Friends

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You were straddling Jess’ lap on the sofa in his and Luke’s apartment above the diner, your fingers tangled in his hair as your hips swivelled on his cock. The apartment was filled with the sound of yours and Jess’ combined whimpers and groans. You’d had the apartment to yourselves for the past day and a bit due to Luke being over at Lorelai’s and it was safe to say that you were both making good use of the empty space.

‘Jess,’ you whined, on the verge of tears. You were so overstimulated from the amount of times the two of you had fucked in the last 24 hours. Jess’ hands were firmly gripping your hips, bouncing you up at down on his cock as his lips pressed kisses and bites along your neck and chest.

‘Almost there, baby, you’re doing so good,’ Jess murmured into your skin, digging his teeth into your collar to make you cry out and clench around him. ‘I’m almost there,’ he repeated, planting his feet on the ground and using the leverage to thrust up into you. Your body collapsed on his chest as he used your body like a toy. Thrusting once more up into you, Jess let out a deep groan as you felt his cum coat your walls.

Resting against his chest, you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, your eyes fluttering closed tiredly as his arms wrapped around you. You stayed like that for a few minutes before you reluctantly pulled away and got off of his lap, wincing slightly when he slid out of you.

‘Where are you going?’ Jess asked, still sounding tired but looking more alert when he saw you putting your clothes back on.

‘Home,’ you replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Why?’

‘Because we don’t do the whole hanging around, staying over thing.’

‘We did last night.’

You felt your body freeze at his words. You and Jess were strictly friends with benefits, you’d both agreed on that before starting anything up, not wanting to get on the wrong page of anything. Up until last night, you’d kept your rule of not staying round the others after hooking up but Jess having the place to himself, neither of you questioned it when you’d decided to stay over.

‘Jess,’ you said, sighing quietly before turning around to face him. ‘We’re friends and we made a - ’

‘Bullshit.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘We’re not friends, (Y/N), we passed “just friends” about 20 fucks ago, and you know it, so don’t give me that.’

‘We always said that we wouldn’t let feelings get in the way of this.’

‘Well, too late.’

‘And you’re so sure that we both have the same feelings for each other?’ you asked with a raised eyebrow.

‘If I’m wrong, walk out of that door right now,’ Jess said, stepping towards you, his voice low. His hands moved to settle lightly on your hips and you couldn’t help but shiver when you felt his fingers gently press into the new hand-shaped bruises that were forming on your hips. ‘Walk out and I’ll never bring it up again. But I’m 99.9% sure you’re not going anywhere.’

You couldn’t think of anything else to say, your hands came up to rest on his bare chest and you had to fight the urge to laugh when you felt goose bumps erupt over his skin at your touch.

‘I,’ you began, not knowing what to say at all.

Jess’s eyes softened as he looked at you and he took a step closer to you. ‘You feel it too right?’ You nodded, tears springing to your eyes and a lump forming in your throat, making it impossible for you to speak. ‘That’s all I needed,’ he said before leaning in to press his lips back to yours.

That’s when it hit you. Standing in the middle of the apartment, half dressed.

You were in love with Jess Mariano.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,476 Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of past injury, nothing else really! (oh always language I guess? because of who I am as a person haha) Summary: The reader insists on leaving Hilltop and Daryl insists on helping her despite her annoyance. A/N: Guyyyysssss, the dynamic that is growing between these two... #FEELZ #OOF

“I ain’t askin’ ya to stay,” Daryl drawled quietly, walking beside you across the grassy open space in front of the manor. “ ‘M just sayin’—gimme ten minutes to get some supplies together for ya. It’d make all of us feel better.”

“I don’t need your supplies,” you retorted, staring straight ahead. Daryl was annoyingly persistent.

“It ain’t about—” he let out an exasperated sigh. “It ain’t about what ya need. We’re all worried. I know ya think we only care ‘bout findin’ out about them skin freaks from ya, but it’s not just that. Enid is sick over the fact that yer gonna walk outta here against medical advice. And honestly, so am I. How ya gonna even run out there? How ya gonna fight in the shape yer in if ya run into trouble?”

You finally looked at him and his blue eyes were intense. “There are ways around fighting,” you said.

His jaw tensed. “Like livin’ in the damn trees?”

“Walkers don’t look up. And neither do most people.”

He sighed heavily, his hands clenching into fists anxiously and then releasing again. “Ya ain’t even got any arrows left. At least let me get ya some more so ya can protect yerself. I just gotta run over to the armory. It’ll take five minutes.”

You fiddled with the strap of your empty quiver. It was disturbingly light without the usual weight of your ammo. You conceded. “Fine. I’ll be by the gate. Five minutes.”

Daryl looked immensely relieved. “Alrigh’. I’ll be right back.” He strode away hurriedly and you watched until his broad shoulders and the distinctive wing design disappeared around the corner of a building. You stood still for a moment until you could feel the eyes of nearly everyone in sight landing on you and sticking. Your anxiety began to rise and you gulped at the tightness in your throat. Your palms tickled. Your heart thumped.

You cast your gaze upwards and saw Achilles wheeling gracefully overhead, his tail fanned out against the sky revealing the characteristic the wedge shape of ravens. You felt a little calmer with your eyes on him and forced in a long slow breath. Then, you adjusted your pack and headed toward the gate.

You stopped at the wall and leaned against it, ignoring the curious looks from the guards up on the platform as best you could. Despite the mildness of the day, you clutched your cloak around yourself. You waited.

You didn’t have a watch, so you couldn’t say for sure how many minutes it’d been when Daryl came hurrying down the slope toward you. Dog was now at his side and—wait—

You straightened up immediately, your brow furrowing low. “Five minutes so you can grab me supplies?” Your expression was decidedly skeptical.

He shrugged. “I did,” he said, holding out a bundle of arrows.

You snatched them from him, perhaps a bit aggravated. Your narrowed gaze on him was sharp. “Going somewhere?” you said, cocking an eyebrow at him. Daryl had a pack on his back, his crossbow over his shoulder, and was wearing an extra layer he certainly didn’t have on when he went to retrieve the arrows for you.

“Turns out we’re headin’ the same way for a bit,” he drawled, undeterred by the harshness of your gaze.

“You don’t know where I’m heading,” you retorted. Achilles let out a few sharp clicks with his bill and settled down on your shoulder. The rush of air from his wings blew across your cheek. Dog tilted his head and whined, looking up at the bird.

Daryl scratched anxiously at a non-existent itch on the back of his head. “I mean, if ya wanna get technical ‘bout it,” he said.

Your eyes narrowed further. “You’re gonna follow me?” you asked, incredulous. “Seriously?”

He gulped. “If I gotta track ya, I will. S’just for a couple days, so ‘m nearby just in case. Until, ya know, yer a bit less—”

“Less what?” you snapped. “Useless?”

Now his brow furrowed to match yours. “Nah. Hurt. I doubt ya’ve ever been useless.”

Your nostrils flared as you stepped toward him, Achilles fluttering a little to stay perched on your shoulder. “I don’t need your fucking babysitting and the first chance I get, I’m gonna lose you.”

“Ya can try,” Daryl said, determined. He sighed heavily. “ ‘M sorry, okay? I can’t just—just let ya wander off in the shape yer in to get killed by fuckin’ walkers or some of them skins. I owe ya a debt for savin’ me and Dog and—”

You pointed at him, almost shoving your finger into the center of his chest. The color in your cheeks rose. “You don’t owe me a damn thing and I certainly don’t owe you anything either.”

“Tha’s what ya think.”

You let out a frustrated growl and tossed your hands up, pacing away. Achilles took off again with a high whistle and gurgling sound. “Your doctors seem to think they saved my life, so doesn’t that make us even?” He shrugged again. “I guess not to me.”

The muscle in your jaw tensed as you stared at him. He was infuriating. “Just stay the fuck out of my way…”

Daryl ducked your gaze and patted Dog before whistling to the guards above and signaling for them to open the gate.

You stifled a grimace as you adjusted your pack and strode out, with him and Dog on your heels.

It had to be close to thirty minutes before either of you spoke a word. Daryl was walking just slightly behind you now as you moved beneath the canopy of old oaks and pines. You hesitated at a small creek and bent to look at a scraping in the muddy banks, touching the marks with outstretched fingertips, chewing on the inside of your cheek thoughtfully as you examined it.

Daryl knelt down beside you, also studying the sign. “Walker,” he drawled.

You stood and rolled your eyes. “Or Shepherd. They mimic their movements.” You clutched a hand over the wound in your side as you climbed to your feet. Daryl’s fingers alighted softly beneath your elbow for a moment in an attempt to help you to your feet, but you quickly startled away, recoiling and looking at him with surprise. Your eyes were wide and almost fearful.

He stepped back, eyeing you nervously. “Sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I was just tryin’ to help ya—”

“Well, don’t,” you said severely. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

Daryl frowned and a shadow seemed to settle over his eyes as he studied your reaction. “Sorry,” he murmured again. He heard a raven croak overhead and knew Achilles was flying low over the trees.

You sighed, some of the tension leaving you, and shook your head, resuming your previous pace and stepping carefully rock to rock over the stream. Daryl followed while Dog happily splashed through to the other side, stopping and nosing around in the long sedges clinging onto the bank. “Don’t you have better things to do than follow a stranger through the woods? Like interrogating Lydia? Or preparing your community for when Alpha and her assholes show up?”

“I ain’t the leader there. Tara can handle it,” he replied, his eyes flickering over the surrounding woods. He was on edge. He sincerely hoped he could keep you from anything strenuous for a couple days. He had no problem with you being pissed off at him if it kept you from seriously hurting yourself further. He knew he could never forgive himself if something like that happened, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was just the debt he felt he owed, but that didn’t seem to entirely explain it. You were essentially a stranger, but there was something about you… He felt drawn as if by a magnetic pull. Perhaps it was just the strangeness of the life you were living or maybe the mystery you seemed to intentionally wrap around yourself like a quilt, carefully guarding yourself. He felt like he was grasping for any little puzzle piece to help him construct a clearer picture of who you were.

There was a thick silence for a few moments, but when you next spoke your voice was softer, less exasperated. “Lydia—what will happen to her?” you asked suddenly.

Daryl hazarded a careful glance at you as he came to your side. You’d slowed a little to speak to him. He shook his head. “I dunno. That all depends a lot on her, on what happens next with these Whisperers. She may end up stayin’ in that cell a long time. Or, if some things change, she could be one of us,” he said.

“Just like that?” you said. “From one of them to one of you?” Your tone was cynical.

“I ain’t sayin’ it’d be easy or—or simple,” he drawled. “But, yeah. Maybe. She’s just a kid. Like ya said.”

Another sigh escaped you and he caught the slight shake of your head. You started forward again and this time Daryl kept pace beside you instead of lagging slightly behind. “And who was that in the other cell? Your son?” you asked.

Daryl let out a scoff and shook his head. “Nah... But he’s been a royal pain in my ass so far,” he growled.

“So, who is he then?”

“He’s—my best friend’s son. He’s family. ‘M watchin’ after him for a bit while he gets some trainin’ at Hilltop.”

“No, you’re not,” you laughed wryly. “Not anymore you aren’t.”

He shot you a sideways glance, and some part of you was satisfied to see that he looked a touch annoyed. “He’s locked up. What’s he gonna do?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Give away all your community secrets to Lydia? After all, they looked about the same age and he certainly seemed concerned about what I was doing there talking to her. Teenage hormones being what they are—”

Daryl stopped dead and you slowed and turned to look at him. “What?”

His bright blue eyes were narrowed. “I know what yer doin’. It ain’t gonna work.”

“What?” you said again. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Uh huh,” he growled, starting forward again.

You laughed dryly and shrugged. “Seems like I hit a nerve…” you murmured.

Just then there was a burst of noise overhead and you looked up to see Achilles dropping back down through the canopy toward you. He let out a raucous series of caws and hovered a few feet above you, something clutched in his foot. Daryl watched curiously as you extended a hand and the bird dropped something into your palm.

Your expression tightened as you examined it. “Thanks, buddy,” you said to the bird. With your other hand, you dug into a pocket and withdrew some crimson berries you presented to him in your palm. He quickly gulped them down and flew off again, rising gracefully and twisting through the branches overhead with ease.

Dog was prancing anxiously on his front paws, sniffing eagerly at what was in your hand.

“What is that?” Daryl asked, moving closer.

You opened your hand and there was a partially bloody and clearly decomposing ear. “Achilles says there are four of the walking dead nearby,” you said softly. “He looks out for them. And for people.”

“Damn. That’s a pretty fuckin’ good lookout ya’ve got. Wish mine had wings,” he said, grabbing hold of Dog’s collar and holding him back from attempting to eat the ear out of your palm. You tossed it to the ground, however, and he got a hold of it anyway.

You tilted your head to the left. “They’re this way,” you said, starting off in that direction silently, your bow at your side.

“Shouldn’t we be going a different way then?” Daryl asked.

You looked back at him and shook your head. “No. You can if you want. I plan on putting them down.”

Daryl swore under his breath. “Ya’ve got a serious knife wound and ya wanna go lookin’ for a fight?”

“Like I said before, it doesn’t have to be a fight. Just stay quiet and hidden until the right time.” You crouched low and moved through some denser undergrowth despite the way your body ached and every movement tugged at the stitches on your side. Daryl followed, ignoring the sharp teeth of briars poking into his skin and grabbing at his clothes. In less than a minute, the two of you began to hear the familiar shuffling of staggered steps and low growls of the undead wandering toward you.

Daryl sat up on his knees and peered over your shoulder. He could easily see the shapes of them approaching. He waited. He noticed your fingers smoothing over your bowstring. Another moment and you gracefully pulled an arrow from the quiver on your back and moved to nock it onto the string.

When you stood, he stood. Before you could even bend your bow, there was a snap sound and the rush of air past your face as a bolt flew directly past you and buried itself into the center of the forehead. The figured dropped like a lead anchor.

A metallic swish came next and Daryl’s knife tumbled through the air and took out the second one. He stepped slightly in front of you and whistled to Dog, who took off after the third and took it down easily. By then Daryl had another bolt loaded onto his crossbow and he shot the fourth.

You’d hardly gotten an arrow onto your string before the onslaught. He looked back at you over his shoulder and easily read the annoyance painting your features. “Seriously?” you said tersely.

He shrugged and went to collect his knife and bolts. “Ya could rip a stitch again,” he said. Dog stood panting over the bodies.

Achilles let out a hoarse croak and fluttered down to land on your shoulder. You stroked his back and scratched under his chin as you wandered toward the downed undead. “Check for masks,” you said softly, watching as Daryl retrieved and sheathed his knife. His matching one was still at your hip. He’d insisted on you keeping it since yours had been lost in the woods during the fight against Alpha. The fact that he’d split a matching set, obviously religiously maintained, had struck you.

You lifted a foot to kick one of the bodies over and Daryl stopped you. “Whoa, hey!” he barked at you. “Lemme do that. Ya tryin’ to hurt yerself?” he growled. You rolled your eyes but stepped back. He heaved them over, one by one, and checked for masks.

“No Shepherds,” you said as he examined the last one.

“Not here anyway,” Daryl drawled, his blue eyes darting over the surrounding woods. He began patting down the clothing on the bodies, something you often did as well. Sometimes you’d recover ammo or other useful things out of the pockets.

Still slightly annoyed by his interference, you nudged Achilles who flew up off you shoulder. You whistled a single note that started low and then rose to a higher pitch. The raven croaked and descended silently toward Daryl before plucking out a strand of his wavy brown hair and then taking off again.

“Ow! Goddamn!” He jolted to his feet and looked back at you, shocked. “Did’ya tell him to do that?”

You smiled back at him vaguely and held out a hand which Achilles dropped the strand into. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh…” He glared, but couldn’t quite stop the tiniest smile from curving his lips as he shook his head at you.

“Anything good?” you asked, looking back at the bodies.

“Nah,” he said, setting a bolt back into the flight groove of his crossbow. He fixed his blue eyes on you when he straightened up again and they met your gaze and held it. You noticed then just how blue they were and felt an uncharacteristic wash of uncertainty trickle over you. “Ya really ain’t gonna tell me yer name? I mean, I feel like since yer bird just ripped out some of my hair maybe—”

You cut him off by laughing and it surprised both of you. “Alright. That’s fair. It’s Y/N.”

Daryl nodded. “Alrigh’. Y/N.”

Something about hearing him say your name produced an unusual fluttering in the middle of your chest, and you realized your body and you realized how long it’d been since you’d heard anyone speak it. You ducked his eyes and sighed. “Alright. Probably should keep moving,” you said, replacing the arrow still in your hand back in your quiver and moving around Daryl and past the walkers strewn on the forest floor. You sunk your fingers into Dog’s thick fur and gave him a few scratches as you passed him and the Malinois let out a happy noise and began walking at your side.

“Tha’s funny,” Daryl said, starting after you.

“Hmm?”

“Dog usually prefers me over ev’rybody,” he drawled.

You glanced back at him and then down at Dog beside you. “Oh. Sorry. Are your feelings hurt?”

Daryl could hear a slight touch of jest in your voice again. He liked it. It eased his worries over your condition somewhat. “Maybe a little bit,” he said.

There was another minute or so of silence before you broke it again. “I have to ask you,” you began, “what exactly is your plan here?” You were slightly out of breath and paused partially up a steep hill to look back at him. You were sore and your stamina was nowhere near normal. You could tell you wouldn’t be able to go much further that day.

“What plan?” Daryl responded.

“You’re really going to follow me for… days?”

Daryl shrugged. “Somebody should be around. Just in case.”

You sighed, starting at him and shaking your head. “There’s no way I can convince you to just leave and go back to your community?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“I’m fine, Daryl.” “Yeah, well I’ll know that ‘cuz I’mma be around. Yer stubborn, but so am I.”

“Yeah, I’m gathering that,” you breathed. You shut your eyes for a moment and pulled in some deep breaths.

“…Ya okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah…” you said quickly. “Just a little tired. And sore,” you added with a laugh, one hand coming to rest over the bandaged wound on your side.

He nodded. “I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said ya lost a ton of blood. It was—scary…” he drawled. “Ya wanna take a rest?”

You shook your head, your eyes moving over the trees around the two of you. “No. This area isn’t safe.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You shook your head. “It’s just not. But—I don’t think I can go too much farther today and we should be tucked away somewhere before it gets dark. I don’t think I’m climbing anything without a ladder today and we won’t make it to—anyway... I know a place that isn’t much farther that should be safe.”

Daryl was surprised that you had now seemed to accept that he’d be tagging along. You started forward again and he trailed behind you, catching glimpses of Achilles dropping below the canopy every now and again. Dog trotted between you and Daryl now, sniffing here and there and occasionally breaking off to one side or the other. It was almost like a relaxing walk through the woods…

Eventually, you came to a dead stop and Daryl looked over your shoulder to see a small cabin that seemed to have been nearly consumed by the vegetation and wild growth around it. He glanced sideways at you and was startled by how pale you looked.

“Y/N,” he said gently so you’d look at him. “You okay?”

You nodded, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. “This is our stop for the night.”

“Alrigh’. I’ll make sure it’s clear.” He whistled to Dog and this time you didn’t argue. You were exhausted. And part of you was glad to see the wings on Daryl’s back that were becoming almost familiar.

[brownsugaboba]

title: “Chapter 2: Back in The Day: Simpler Times.”

december 19th, 2024.

—————————————————————————————

bruce wayne x reader.

black reader. (anyone can read but emphasis on black.)

19+. (this chapter is NOT 19+, however future chapters will be.)

—————————————————————————————

the wayne manor library was quiet, except for the soft ticking of an antique clock on the wall. the stretch of leather-bound book casted long shadows across the room, but neither bruce nor yourself paid much mind to the dark night. you both, after all, had spent countless hours there as children, so the familiar surroundings felt comforting, nostalgic even.

bruce sat in his usual armchair, a glass of scotch resting on the side table beside him, while you were sat on the edge of the window seat. your posture was relaxed, though your eyes held the same quiet look they always had. you two had been talking for hours, reliving memories from a time when the world seemed simpler, before tragedy reshaped both of your lives.

"remember the time we tried to build that treehouse in the oak behind the manor?" you asked, a small smile tugging at your two tones lips as you recalled the memory.

"we thought we could build it all by ourselves, even though we barely knew the difference between a hammer and a nail."

bruce couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound rare and warm. "i think we still managed to get it up, though. it was only after a week when alfred found it that we realized we had left half of it unfinished."

"that’s because you kept insisting we needed more space for all our 'secret' things," she teased. "i think you were just trying to escape your parents."

bruce’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but it didn’t go unnoticed. you saw it and immediately reached out to place a hand on his.

the unspoken bond you had shared since childhood had always been something that transcended words, even now. you both had known loss too young, your parents taken from you in different ways but with the same devastating finality.

"i never thanked you enough for being there for me back then," bruce said quietly. "for always knowing when i needed someone."

your voice was equally as soft. "you don’t have to thank me, bruce. you were my best friend, too. we were always there for each other."

you two went into a slight silence, the weight of unspoken grief settling between you both. the passing of your parents was still something neither one of you had truly come to terms with, but it had shaped you both in ways you couldn’t fully explain.

"i miss them," bruce said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

"i miss him." the words for his father, thomas wayne, hung in the air.

"i miss her too," you said. "my dad... he was always so proud of you, bruce. he admired you, even when you were just a little kid who'd sneak into the hospital to watch him work."

bruce’s lips twisted into a faint yet gentle grin, but the sadness was still there. "he never knew when to stop talking about his work. your father… he used to give me tips on how to stay focused during surgeries, even though i wasn’t sure if I’d ever need them."

"and you did. in your own way," you replied. you squeezed his hand before letting go.

"you turned out more like him than you think."

bruce met your gaze, his eyes betraying a sense of emotion he rarely showed. he stopped himself from reaching for your hand again, wanting to hold it for comfort.

"and you turned out like your dad in the best ways. i’m sorry we both had to go through that loss together."

"i think we’re both sorry for that," she said softly.

the conversation shifted after a moment, the past lingering like a shadow, but they had moved on. the reason you were there became clearer. you were still family, and today was no exception.

"selina’s wedding," bruce said, finally having the courage to say it. "that is why you came all this way, no?"

you sighed, crossing your arms. "i’m not here for the wedding itself, bruce. i’m here because i know how much it’s going to hurt you to see her walking down that aisle."

bruce closed his eyes for a moment, the pain evident. "she deserves happiness. i knew that the moment she let me go. but it doesn’t make it any easier."

you nodded. "i know. but you’ve always been too good at hiding how much things affect you. and you can’t hide that from me when i do the same thing. it’s not healthy."

before bruce could respond, a quiet voice interrupted him from the hallway.

"do you think it’s gonna bother selina seeing bruce with someone else?" damian’s voice was low but sharp, his curiosity peeking around the corner of the library door.

he was followed by his brother, dick, who smirked. "i mean, we all know she’s been a little—" he hesitated, glancing at damian. "possessive?"

damian gave him a pointed look.

"i was going to say 'protective,' but sure, go ahead." tim remarks.

bruce’s eyes narrowed at the sound of his children’s voices. his instincts were immediate, but his gaze softened when he caught your amused expression.

just as he was about to call them out, cassandra stepped into the hallway. she had only overheard the conversation but hadn’t understood the full context, since she wasn’t there for the building of the plan.

she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

"selina's getting married," she said bluntly, looking between the brothers. "and you’re all acting like idiots. it’s not like she hasn’t moved on. she’s been with someone else for a while now."

damian and jason blinked in unison, looking a little stunned with how long selina has been with her partner, considering she had ever so recently left their dad. "wait, what?" jason asked, his confusion growing. "she—"

"she moved on, guys," cassandra said, shaking her head.

"she’s already marrying someone else. you know how she is. if she sees bruce with someone else, she’s probably gonna think it's funny more than anything."

dick spoke. "you dont know that."

tim frowned. "you really think so?"

"yeah, because she knows what she wants. and she’s not holding onto stuff she can’t control," cassandra replied coolly.

"i want the best for bruce too, but you can’t just sit here and overthink it."

jason scowled. "that’s because bruce is—"

"just go talk to him yourselves," cassandra cuts in, dismissing them. "stop standing around like it’s a tragedy and act like adults."

her bluntness caused the brothers to retreat, but their expressions remained conflicted. as they all walked away, you and bruce shared a quiet, knowing glance.

bruce sighed. "i never thought i’d have to explain myself to them this way."

you smirked, your tone light and sweet as your dimples showed. "you’ve been a little distracted lately. it’s okay."

"maybe," bruce said, staring at your dimples and remembering the first time he had ever seen them.

"but things don’t seem simple anymore."

"maybe they never were," you replied.

“or maybe simple is too simple for us.”

fin.

—————————————————————————————

next chapter…

[teamatsumu]

Can I please request rekindling a relationship with ex-boyfriend Atsumu who is a total ass man? (He can't stop touching, fondling reader 's ass.)

one day. (miya atsumu x fem!reader)

word count: 755

warnings: post-break up. sexual language but no explicit smut. swearing. osamu is there. slight angst if you squint. nsfw. mdni.

Taglist: @keiva1000

Atsumu should have known that even after breaking up with you, your presence in his life would be inevitable. After all, you had been childhood friends, and while your relationship had soured and fizzled months ago, you were still very, very close to Osamu, and no beef with Atsumu could stop you from seeing his twin.

So Atsumu had gotten used to walking into Onigiri Miya and seeing you perched on a stool at the counter, deep in conversation with Osamu who was carefully shaping onigiri for you. You were just as much a fan of his brother’s food as he was, maybe an even more enthusiastic supporter. Osamu often called you his little “taste tester”, and Atsumu would make a sleazy joke in your ear about how he was your taste tester, in that he would bury his head between your thighs to taste y-

You would always smack him before he could finish.

Ah well, those days were long gone. You weren’t interested in anything he had to say anymore, which Atsumu thought was karma for the last few weeks of your relationship, when he had started missing all your calls, messages, dates. After the fight that led to your breakup, which was filled with your teary complaints about how he had no time for you at all, Atsumu wondered if his volleyball career just left no room for him to date. But then he would look at Meian, who had a whole wife, and think that maybe it was just him. He just didn’t know how to maintain a relationship.

That didn’t stop him from hesitating now, catching sight of you in conversation with his brother, your arms folded on the counter before you with your torso leaning forward, and Atsumu’s gaze was immediately beckoned down to your-

Fuck.

Those were his favorite pair of jeans on you.

You had gotten them when he took you birthday shopping, and Atsumu had been enamored with them the minute you tried them on. High waisted and tight, they hugged your ass deliciously, so much that Atsumu had insisted he buy them for you, later using that as an excuse to bend you over the nearest surface any time you wore them and having his way with you. This couldn’t be a coincidence now, why would you wear them today? To come to Onigiri Miya? Where you knew you would likely run into him? Atsumu’s jaw clenched at the thought and he stepped further into the shop, finally catching your and his brother’s attention.

“Finally. What’s the point of making ya fresh onigiri if ya won’t show up on time?” Osamu scowled at him, but Atsumu paid him no mind, catching your eye and giving you a smirk.

“Nice ass.” He quipped, making you roll your eyes and turn back to your own plate, but Atsumu caught the tips of your ears turning red, making him grin. Victory.

“You’re disgusting, Miya.” You replied, voice low before you took another bite. Atsumu settled into the stool next to you.

“Ya never minded that when we were datin’. In fact, I still remember the sweet sounds ya made-”

“Shut up.” You glared at him, while Osamu made a disgusted face, saying something along the lines of ‘not in front of the food’. Neither of you reacted too viscerally though. Atsumu’s foul language was nothing new. You might have broken up with him, but you both knew he still liked you, and he would never stop flirting. That was his way of saying he wasn’t giving up on you.

Deep down, Atsumu knew you liked it. So when Osamu turned his back to search for something behind him, Atsumu leaned close to you, lips brushing your ear.

“Why’d ya wear those jeans, doll? Temptin’ me to bend ya over this counter?”

You dug your elbow into his side to push him away a bit. “In your dreams.”

Atsumu hummed, no longer resisting the urge to reach down and give your ass an appreciative squeeze. You jumped a bit, turning to glare at him. “Ya really don’t wanna know what goes on in my dreams, sweetcheeks.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, but Atsumu caught the corners of your lips, fighting to hold back a smile. He sighed as Osamu placed a plate of food in front of him, not bothering to bite back his own smile. You still loved him, deep down, Atsumu was sure, and he was determined to make you his again one day.

One day.

[lethalchiralium]

Delicate | Simon “Ghost” Riley x König x AFAB!Wife!Reader (18+)

a/n: do not burn me at the stake this is like the third time i’ve ever written smut LEAVE ME BE (thank you @as-is-above-so-below for beta-ing you’re so awesome) ALSO THIS IS A COMPLETE STAND ALONE HAHA

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY, ALL MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED. AFAB Anatomy. Pregnant sex, oral sex (F receiving), lactation kink.

18+ BELOW THE CUT

“C’mon, Mama, stay still.”

Your hands fisted the sheets below you as both of your husbands lay on top of you - both touching you for the first time in weeks.

König settled in between your thighs, thin brown stubble scratching your soft skin as he sucked on your clit. His arms curled around your legs to keep you in place, one of his large hands settled on the juncture between your hip and leg to hold you down.

Ghost was cradled in your arms, sucking on your leaking nipple as his fingers tweaked the other. You held both of their heads by their hair, your back arched up from the mattress as König’s tongue fell further.

You wanted them to take you again, hold you down as they rammed their cocks into you at an excruciating pace - but your rounded and pregnant belly made everything difficult. This would suffice, though; they had been gone for a few weeks, and your fingers just couldn’t satisfy you like theirs could. Damn your pregnancy hormones, nauseous one minute and horny the next. You were glad you had them both, satisfying both of your needs - your breasts painfully full of milk and the need to be fucked.

König’s tongue was long, yet not as skilled as Ghost’s, and even though he gave you shallow laps with it, you were ready to explode. Your hand curled at the root of his jaw length brown hair, pushing him further into your cunt - feeling his tongue push in. As soon as he shoved the rest of his tongue into you, Ghost’s teeth nibbled at your nipple. Your hand tugged at his short hair, pushing him farther into your breast.

Pressure on the top of your clit came from Ghost’s thumb, and you bucked your hips into König’s face; his tongue dug deeper and he groaned in pleasure. He sucked at your cunt, making your head roll backwards on the pillow.

With a little pop from your nipple, Simon pulled away, taking large breaths in quickly. “Doin’ okay?”

You nodded feverishly, mouth open and panting. “Fuck me already.”

König pulled away from your cunt, “I’m too long for her, might hurt the little one.” He leaned back up, you whined at the missing heat. “Switch me.”

“On your side,” Simon muttered, and you willingly complied feeling like a dog in heat the way you needed them. It would be best for you to be on your side with Simon’s tendency to collapse on top of you or König - and no matter how they would do anything at your request, the child that grew in your womb was theirs to protect. Didn’t matter whose it was biologically, neither man would harm that child. “Tell me if I hurt you,” Simon murmured against your ear as his hand crept between your legs, your breath hitched. Your back curled against his chest as his thicker fingers traced shapes on your clit, your eyes tightly shut.

The bed creaked as König laid in front of you, bringing his now clean fingers to your face, rubbing your cheek as he pressed his forehead into yours. “Breathe, Liebling.”

Your forehead dug into König’s, panting as he moved one of his hands down to your heat, but not touching you where you wanted - his hand held onto your thigh and pulled your leg up just a little bit.

It wasn’t more than a second before Simon pushed himself in, your eyes rolled back into your head as you let out a lewd moan, and König pressed his lips to yours, cutting off the sound and squeezing your thigh. Heat pooled from the middle of your chest all the way down to your core, your walls clenching around Simon’s cock. The man behind you groaned, his face pressing into your shoulder as he kept pushing in.

The soft kisses from König almost kept you distracted as Simon dragged his teeth against your skin when he bottomed out. “Touch me,” you whimpered, “Please.”

The man in front of you pressed another kiss to your lips before you felt Simon’s hand take your leg from him, allowing him to press his fingers into your clit. As soon as you jolted from the pleasure, Simon pulled out a little and thrusted back in - your mouth pulled into a silent scream as he began to pound into you.

König kept his hand on your clit, the other holding your face as you panted, euphoric and hormonal. His thumb rubbed circles into your bundle of nerves, your head moved forward into König’s neck.

“Such a good mama,” the man in front of you whispered into your ear, the head of Simon’s cock hitting the spongy spot in your pussy and making you whimper. “Being so good to us.”

Simon’s forehead still against your shoulder, his grip holding onto your hips as he kept drilling into you - knowing he wasn’t long enough to hurt the baby, but thick enough to make you go stupid.

“Taking him so well, is this what you wanted?” König mumbled to you, and you nodded feverishly in response. “Oh, Liebling. You’re just so needy.”

“Yes,” You panted, nodding into his neck. “Yes yes yes,”

“Did you touch yourself while we were away?” His words made you want to move your hand from his hip and pull his cock out of his pants, stick it in next to Simon’s and let them have at it. But, you just nodded as Simon’s hand shifted your leg up higher so he could thrust at a deeper angle, pulling another yet another groan from you. “Just so needy.”

“Horny, is the word.” Simon muttered from gritted teeth, his forehead sticky against you. “Fuckin’ tight, bloody Hell.”

“So good, let him take whatever he wants, hm? If our little baby was not inside of you right now, I would shove myself in beside him. I’d go so slow, you’d never want to leave,” König’s teeth nipped your chin before he placed wet kissed to your neck, teeth grazed supple skin as the sound of Simon’s hips hitting your ass grew louder. There was a long moment it was only the melody that was your love. König sucking on your throat, your moans into König’s ear as Ghost rutted into you, choked grunts escaping his throat. König lapped at the bites he made before murmuring, “You’ll never leave us, right, princess?” His kisses made it down to your breasts, his long and warm tongue dragging over a leaking nipple. You jolted against Simon, clenching around him and he let out a surprised laugh.

“Tell us princess, tell us what feels so good,” Simon smirked against your skin. “And we’ll do even better for you.”

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[quichein-me-softly]

Hi it's me again!! I was wondering since it's like the holidays if you could write sans x reader during new years eve and they spend time with each other during a new years eve party?? Also I loved the new chapter of mixed signals!! Happy holidays 🔥🔥

welcome back, i missed ya! and of course, i love writing these little drabbles you come up with :]

HAPPY NEW YEARS!!

new years eve w/ sans

The chilly bite of December had long settled over the Surface, turning the world into a wonderland of frosted windows and snow-dusted garlands. New Year’s Eve was upon you, and while several invitations came your way, only one caught your attention—a handwritten note from Papyrus in his unmistakably bold and eager handwriting:

"YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO A SPECTACULAR NEW YEAR'S EVE PARTY HOSTED BY THE GREAT PAPYRUS AND HIS TRUSTY SIDEKICK, SANS! WE WILL HAVE SNACKS, SPARKLING JUICE, AND FIREWORKS!

PLEASE COME.

—THE GREAT PAPYRUS"

The note, penned with such exuberance, made you smile; you could practically hear Papyrus’ voice behind the words. No party on the Surface could ever match his boundless energy. And while you knew it would be fun, you couldn’t deny that the promise of Sans being there added its own quiet appeal.

By the time you arrived, the New Year's Eve party was already in full swing. The venue—a cozy hall borrowed from one of your mutual friends—was decked out in shimmering gold and silver streamers cascading like waterfalls from the ceiling. Twinkling fairy lights framed the walls, casting the room in a soft, dream-like glow, while the faint scent of freshly baked pastries and cinnamon lingered in the air.

Music played softly in the background, blending with bursts of laughter and the occasional clink of glasses to create a warm, inviting atmosphere. Your smile grew as your eyes flickered to a hand-painted banner strung proudly above the refreshment table. "WELCOME TO THE FUTURE!"

Papyrus was the first to spot you. “AH-HA! YOU HAVE ARRIVED!” he proclaimed, sweeping across the room as his scarf billowed dramatically behind him—despite the lack of wind.

He stopped directly in front of you, planting his gloved hands on your shoulders as though delivering life-changing news. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HONORED BY YOUR PRESENCE. HAVE YOU SEEN THE SNACK TABLE? I HAVE OUTDONE MYSELF!”

“Of course you did,” you replied, unable to hold back a grin. “I’d expect nothing less from you, Pap.”

Beaming with pride, Papyrus threw out an arm in a grand flourish, directing your attention to the refreshment table. “BEHOLD! A FEAST FIT FOR NEW YEAR ROYALTY!”

The snack table was indeed a marvel, piled high with an assortment of hors d'oeuvres, sandwiches cut into star shapes, and Papyrus’ crowning achievement—a pyramid of cookies, each meticulously frosted with gold and silver designs.

Nearby, Toriel and Asgore stood locked in what seemed to be a polite but slightly strained conversation.

“It’s… nice to see you here, Toriel,” Asgore said, his voice low and uncertain. “You look well.”

Toriel’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but her response was calm and measured. “Yes, well, I have Frisk to thank for convincing me to attend.” Her tone was polite but firm, the unspoken history between them hanging in the air like a ghost neither was willing to confront.

Frisk, standing a few steps away with a sparkler in hand, glanced between the two. Sensing the tension, they smiled softly and nudged Toriel, lifting their sparkler like a peace offering. Golden sparks flickered in the dim light, playful and warm, as if trying to bridge the quiet divide.

The simple gesture worked. Toriel’s expression softened, and she rested a hand on Frisk’s head. Her voice was warmer as she murmured, “Thank you, my child.” The earlier tightness in her smile eased, replaced by genuine fondness.

Satisfied with their work, Frisk turned and wandered off, twirling their sparkler through the air.

Across the room, Undyne’s voice boomed as she dove into the climax of an undoubtedly dramatic retelling. “AND THEN I GRABBED THE SPEAR LIKE THIS!” She struck a pose, swinging a sparkler in wide arcs, nearly dislodging a gold streamer in her enthusiasm.

“C-Careful, babe!” Alphys stammered, instinctively ducking as the streamer swayed dangerously close to her head. Despite her flustered tone, her eyes sparkled with admiration, the corners of her mouth twitching upward in a fond smile as she watched Undyne continue her tale.

Undyne continued unabated, charged ahead, her sparklers now props in a vivid reenactment of an epic battle. “AND THE WHOLE CROWD WAS CHEERING—WELL, THEY WOULD’VE BEEN IF ANYONE HAD SEEN IT!” She hurled an imaginary spear with such force that the gold streamer swayed again, prompting Alphys to dart forward and frantically steady it with her hands.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as Alphys tried to wrangle the situation, gently tugging at Undyne’s arm. “Uh, honey, m-maybe let’s, um… not destroy the decorations?”

Undyne froze mid-swing, her grin faltering for just a moment before it returned, wide and unapologetic. “Right, right. No casualties tonight! Got it.” She winked at Alphys, who exhaled in relief, though her shy smile betrayed just how much she adored Undyne’s antics.

Then, catching sight of you watching, Undyne raised a sparkler high in salute, her energy as infectious as ever. “You better be ready for midnight! This party’s about to get epic!”

“You bet,” you replied, grinning as Alphys mouthed a silent “Help me” behind Undyne’s back.

Nearby, Frisk stood with their sparkler held high, its golden sparks flickering in soft, playful patterns. Their face glowed with quiet joy as they twirled it through the air, their peaceful presence a soothing contrast to the lively chaos of the party.

At their feet sat Flowey, firmly nestled in a small decorative pot. His petals twitched irritably as he scowled at the festivities. “All this noise and for what? A few sparks in the sky? Pathetic,” he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Honestly, you’d think they’ve never seen a new year before.”

Frisk tilted their head, raising their sparkler with a grin that seemed to say, Isn’t it kind of fun?

Flowey let out a long, exaggerated sigh but didn’t argue. His petals settled, and his gaze lingered on the sparks, watching the tiny bursts of light with reluctant curiosity.

You approached with a soft chuckle, briefly kneeling to adjust the tiny party hat perched on Flowey’s head. “There,” you said, stepping back to admire your work. “Perfect.”

Flowey sighed dramatically, his tone heavy with mock despair. “Great. Now I look ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous,” you replied lightly. “Festive.”

Frisk giggled softly, giving you a small nod of approval as they twirled their sparkler once more. The golden light reflected in Flowey’s narrowed eyes, his petals tilting ever so slightly toward the warmth.

“Don’t think this means I like either of you idiots,” Flowey muttered. His tone was sharp, but it lacked its usual venom.

You and Frisk exchanged a knowing look before they turned back to their sparkler, drawing glowing arcs in the air. As you walk away, you catch Flowey sigh yet again.

The lively energy of the room seemed to draw everyone together, from Papyrus’ booming laughter near the snack table to Undyne’s sparkler duels in the corner. You felt a quiet warmth settle over you as you moved through the crowd, exchanging small smiles and words with the friends who had come to mean so much to you.

Though the energy of the party was infectious, amidst the bustling crowd, your eyes sought out one figure in particular. IIt didn’t take long to find him—Sans, leaning casually against the wall near the edge of the crowd, nursing what looked suspiciously like a bottle of ketchup.

When he caught your gaze, his expression brightened slightly, his ever-present grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. With a lazy wave, he motioned you over.

“hey, you made it,” he greeted as you approached, his tone casual but warm.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you replied with a smile. “Papyrus sent a very persuasive invitation.”

Sans chuckled, the sound low and easy. “yeah, he’s got a knack for that. one time, he convinced me to join a book club. never read the book, though. was too busy tryin’ to figure out how he gets so much enthusiasm packed into one skeleton.”

You laughed, shaking your head. Your eyes drifted down to the bottle in his hand, raising a skeptical brow.

“totally not ketchup,” he assured you, his grin widening as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “scout’s honor.”

“Were you even a scout?” you asked, playing along.

“nah.” He shrugged. “but i look good in a sash.”

Before you could respond, Grillby drifted past, his flaming figure glowing softly as he carried a tray of drinks. He paused briefly beside you, his ever-calm demeanor somehow fitting seamlessly into the lively energy around him.

“Everything all right here?” the fire elemental asked, his voice calm and friendly, the faint crackle of embers underscoring his words..

You thanked him as you grabbed two glasses of champagne, offering one to Sans, who accepted it with an exaggeratedly solemn bow, swapping his ketchup for the drink.

“hey, grillbz,” Sans said, raising his glass in a mock toast. “enjoyin’ the show?” 

Grillby’s flames flickered in what you assumed was his version of a smile. “It’s as lively as ever,” he replied. Turning to you, he added, “I’m glad you could make it. Sans tends to linger near the edges at gatherings like this.”

“ah, c’mon, grillbz,” Sans protested lightly. “you’re makin’ me sound like a real party pooper.”

Grillby’s flames crackled lightly, resembling the sound of laughter. “Not at all. You’re far too entertaining to stay hidden for long.”

As Grillby glided back toward the refreshment table, Sans chuckled, shaking his head. “guy’s got me all figured out, huh?”

“Maybe,” you teased, taking a sip of your drink. “But who doesn’t?”

Sans let out a small “heh,” his grin quirking to the side. “eh, most folks don’t bother. guess you’re just observant like that.” He tapped his temple lightly, as if to drive the point home.

“Observant?” you echoed with a playful smirk. “You’re not exactly subtle, Sans.”

“or maybe i’m just not tryin’ to blend in right now,” he countered, his grin widening slightly. He gestured vaguely toward the crowd before turning his gaze back to you. “sometimes it’s nice havin’ someone notice you’re there.”

Your smirk softened into a genuine smile as you caught the faint sincerity tucked behind his casual words. “Someone like me?” you asked, trying to mask the touch of hope in your tone.

“well,” he said, his grin easing into something softer, “you do make it easier to stick around.”

His grin tilted back into its familiar playful curve before you could say anything else. “plus, ya keep me from nappin’ in the corner. so, thanks for that.”

You rolled your eyes, bumping your shoulder lightly against his. “Don’t thank me too soon. Midnight’s not here yet.”

The night unfolded in a blur of laughter and cheer, the party’s energy swelling as more guests filtered in.

Through it all, Sans stayed close by your side, tossing in the occasional pun or dry quip that never failed to make you laugh. His presence was unassuming yet constant, anchoringing you amidst the whirlwind of noise and activity. Every so often, you’d catch him watching you with a quiet grin, his gaze lingering just long enough to make your heart feel warmer than the golden glow of the fairy lights overhead. At one point, Undyne burst into the center of the room with sparklers raised high, shouting, “TIME FOR AN EPIC GAME OF CHARADES! NO EXCUSES—EVERYONE PLAYS!”

You and Sans joined the growing circle just in time to see Undyne dive into an over-the-top reenactment of what could only be described as a sea monster attacking a ship. With imaginary harpoons in hand, she mimed throwing them with such vigor that the nearby decorations swayed dangerously.

“OH! OH!” Papyrus exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “IT IS OBVIOUSLY… A WHALE RIDING A UNICORN!”

“P-Papyrus,” Alphys interjected gently, adjusting her glasses. “Whales don’t… uh… ride unicorns.”

“OF COURSE NOT!” Papyrus said, throwing up his hands. “THAT’S WHY IT’S SO BRILLIANTLY CREATIVE!”

The group erupted into laughter as Undyne finally dropped to the ground in an exaggerated finish.

To everyone’s surprise, Asgore had a hidden knack for guessing, calmly identifying even the most bizarre attempts. “Hmm… is it a chicken… riding a unicycle?” he guessed during another round, earning a roar of laughter and an enthusiastic “YES!” from Undyne.

“THE KING OF GUESSING!” Papyrus proclaimed, throwing confetti from his seemingly endless supply of party decorations.

Beside you, Sans leaned in slightly, his grin wide as he whispered, “gotta hand it to asgore. didn’t know he had a secret talent for interpretin’ chaos.”

Later, as the laughter began to settle, Frisk quietly stepped into the center of the room, holding up a sign they’d written in neat, careful letters:

“Thank you all for making this year amazing.”

The room fell quiet for a moment, touched by the sincerity of the message. For a moment, even Flowey was quiet, though he eventually muttered, “Sappy idiots,” under his breath.

“BEAUTIFULLY SAID, FRISK!” Papyrus exclaimed, breaking the stillness with enthusiastic clapping. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS COULD NOT HAVE PUT IT BETTER!”

Toriel clasped her hands together, her expression soft and radiant. “Thank you, my child,” she said tenderly. “It truly has been a wonderful year, hasn’t it?”

Undyne punched the air triumphantly, her sparklers trailing bright streaks behind her. “Heck yeah! Best year ever!”

“Y-Yep!” Alphys added, adjusting her glasses with a nervous but genuine smile. “D-Definitely one for the books.”

Even Asgore nodded in agreement, his deep voice steady and thoughtful. “Yes… one to cherish,” he said softly.

The sentiment spread through the room like a ripple, and one by one, the group broke into applause. There was something unspoken but understood—a quiet acknowledgment of how far you had all come.

As the applause began to fade, you felt a nudge at your side. Sans leaned in, his hands tucked comfortably into his hoodie pockets, his grin faint but real.

“heh. kid’s got a way of hittin’ ya right in the soul,” he said, his voice light but threaded with something softer. His eyes lingered on Frisk for a beat, the quiet pride in his gaze barely masked by his usual laid-back demeanor.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah… they’ve got a knack for that.”

Sans glanced at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before his grin crept wider. “kinda reminds me of someone else i know.”

You raised a brow at him, but before you could respond, Frisk’s eyes met yours from across the room. Smiling, you gave them a quiet thumbs-up. They beamed in response, their sparkler tracing playful patterns through the air once more, the golden light reflecting the joy that filled the room.

Sans watched them for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle. “guess some things are contagious,” he murmured. 

“Hm?” You turned to him, but he had already shifted his attention elsewhere, his hand giving a small wave.

“heh. nothin’.” His hand brushed lightly against yours as it dropped, just for a second—but long enough to send a gentle heat blooming under your skin.

The night wore on, the gentle hum of conversation and laughter filling the air as midnight approached. Papyrus, ever the meticulous organizer, had set up a projector against the far wall. The countdown flickered in bright numbers, casting a faint glow that rippled over the crowd.

One by one, guests began drifting toward the center of the hall, drawn by the hum of music and the soft twinkle of fairy lights strung across the makeshift stage. The air brimmed with anticipation, the approaching new year wrapping around you like the warmth of the gathering itself.

Undyne’s voice rang out above the noise as she clinked a glass dramatically, her sparklers now swapped for a celebratory drink. “Alright, everyone! Ten minutes to go! If you’re not in position for the countdown, you’re missing out on history!”

Alphys tugged at her arm, blushing. “U-Undyne, it’s not exactly history—”

“Sure it is, babe!” Undyne interrupted, throwing an arm around Alphys’ shoulders and flashing her a sharp, toothy grin. “The history of us bringing in another awesome year!”

Alphys flushed even deeper, adjusting her glasses nervously but not pulling away.

Across the room, Frisk gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up from their spot near Toriel. The former queen mirrored the gesture with a warm, encouraging smile.

“Another year of this nonsense,” Flowey muttered from his pot, his petals twitching irritably. His tone lacked its usual bite, though, and his leaves drooped slightly as Frisk twirled a sparkler near him.

“Cheer up, Flowey,” you called over, catching his glare. “You survived another year with us ‘sappy idiots.’ That’s gotta be worth celebrating, right?”

Flowey grumbled something unintelligible, but his petals dipped slightly, almost like a reluctant nod. “Barely,” he muttered, his tone softer than usual.

You found yourself standing with Sans off to the side, near a row of windows overlooking the frosty town square. Outside, the streetlights cast a warm glow on faint flurries of snow drifting lazily through the cold night air. The muffled sound of a band playing New Year’s tunes filtered in through the glass, blending with the cozy hum of the party behind you.

Sans leaned against the window frame, hands tucked casually in his hoodie pockets, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. He looked peaceful, his grin smaller but no less genuine.

“y’know,” he began, his voice low and easy as you stepped closer, “new year’s is kinda funny when ya think about it. we’re all just measurin’ time, watchin’ numbers tick over... but people still get real excited for it. like a fresh start or somethin’.”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t care about New Year’s?” you teased, crossing your arms with a playful smile.

“nah, i care,” he said, his grin softening as his gaze drifted to you. “…just not for the reasons most folks do.”

You tilted your head, curious. “For what reasons, then?”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking briefly back to the snowy town square. For a moment, it seemed like he might brush off the question with another joke, but instead, his grin shifted into something quieter, more genuine. His eye lights flickered back to you, their glow faint but steady.

“well, this year’s been pretty good,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “met someone who’s made it... kinda great, actually. wouldn’t mind spendin’ more time like this.”

His words hit you squarely in the chest, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Papyrus bounded into view, his scarf trailing behind him like a comet.

“TEN MINUTES UNTIL THE COUNTDOWN!” he declared, his voice cutting through the calm like a gong. “COME, HUMAN! SANS! WE MUST PREPARE FOR THE FIREWORK DISPLAY! IT WILL BE THE PINNACLE OF THE EVENING!”

Sans straightened from his spot by the window, his grin sliding effortlessly back into its usual playful tilt. “i thought the snacks were the pinnacle.”

“THE SNACKS WERE MERELY THE PROLOGUE!” Papyrus declared, his chest puffed with pride. “NOW HURRY! I CANNOT LIGHT THE SPARKLERS AND PRESS THE BUTTON AT THE SAME TIME!”

You and Sans exchange a glance, his grin turning sly. “guess we better help the guy out. wouldn’t wanna disappoint the ‘great firework technician papyrus.’”

You chuckled, falling into step beside him as the two of you followed Papyrus into the courtyard.

The crisp night air nipped at your cheeks as you stepped outside, but the festive atmosphere kept your spirits warm. Strings of lights bordered the courtyard, and the faint sound of chatter and laughter spilled from the open doors of the hall. Overhead, stars twinkled faintly, their glow muted by the streetlamps and the shimmering anticipation that filled the air.

Papyrus had arranged a surprisingly impressive display of fireworks, each rocket carefully labeled with his bold handwriting. The others had gathered to watch as Papyrus darted around the courtyard, gleefully directing traffic.

“ALL RIGHT, EVERYONE!” Papyrus boomed, his voice ringing out like a rallying cry. “IN JUST A FEW MINUTES, WE SHALL LIGHT THE SKY WITH THE GREATEST FIREWORK DISPLAY OF ALL TIME!”

Undyne swung her sparklers like twin swords, shouting something about “defending the new year!” Meanwhile, Alphys hovered nearby, wringing her hands as Undyne’s wild flourishes brought the sparklers dangerously close to a box of rockets.

“Undyne!” Alphys yelped, her voice rising in panic. “P-Please, maybe keep those a little further from the—oh my gosh!” She lunged forward, shielding the fireworks with her clipboard.

“Relax, Alphy! I’ve got this!” Undyne declared confidently, twirling the sparklers with dramatic flair that made her girlfriend wince.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, and Sans leaned in closer, his voice full of amusement. “five bucks says she sets somethin’ on fire before this is over.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “I’d take that bet, but I’m pretty sure we’d both win.”

Papyrus zipped around the courtyard, scarf trailing as he issued instructions with military precision. “UNDYNE, THE SPARKLERS ARE NOT FOR LIGHTING THE FUSES!”

“HUMAN!” He spun toward you, thrusting a bucket into your hands with the gravitas of a royal decree. “PLEASE HOLD THIS BUCKET OF MINIATURE ROCKETS! AND SANS—STOP LOITERING!”

Sans chuckled, slipping his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets. “not loitering, bro. supervising.”

“SUPERVISING REQUIRES DOING SOMETHING!” Papyrus exclaimed, flinging his scarf over his shoulder dramatically as he marched off to handle another task.

As Papyrus bustled away, Sans leaned in again, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “pap’s got a future as a drill sergeant, huh?”

You laughed, holding up one of the sparklers. “He just wants everything to be perfect.”

Sans’ grin softened as he watched his brother dash around the courtyard, his tone taking on a quiet fondness. “yeah,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on Papyrus. “he’s good at that.”

As Papyrus continued to direct his countdown preparations with the fervor that suggested it was a military operation, Sans sidled up next to you. His hand brushed lightly against yours, an absentminded gesture that might have gone unnoticed if you weren’t already so attuned to him. Even so, the brief contact sent a spark of warmth racing up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“so,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the noise, “got any resolutions?”

You turned toward him, thoughtful. “I don’t know… Maybe to live in the moment more? Stop worrying so much about the past or future, and just… appreciate life as it comes. Feels like one of those things I could be better at.”

“huh.” Sans tilted his head slightly, his grin softening into something more reflective. “that’s a good one. might have to borrow it.” “What about you?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Sans seemed to consider it for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the horizon where stars twinkled faintly above the glow of the town. The night air carried a quiet stillness, broken only by distant laughter and the occasional pop of a test firework.

“hmm,” he started, his voice light but carrying an undercurrent of sincerity. “guess mine’s makin’ sure you keep yours.”

His words settled between you, simple yet unexpectedly meaningful.

You wanted to say something, but the moment hung delicate and unspoken—until Papyrus’ voice rang out, echoing through the courtyard like a call to arms. “TEN SECONDS LEFT, EVERYONE! GET READY FOR THE COUNTDOWN!”

The others joined in eagerly, their voices blending into a lively chorus.

“TEN!”

Papyrus stood front and center, his scarf flaring dramatically in the crisp winter air, as though powered by sheer willpower alone. He pointed toward the sky, rallying the group like a general leading a parade.

“NINE!” 

Undyne threw an arm around Alphys, practically sweeping the smaller monster off her feet. “THIS IS IT, BABE! OUR YEAR!” she bellowed, shaking Alphys so vigorously that the poor scientist could only manage a nervous laugh, her cheeks glowing as red as the sparklers in Undyne’s free hand.

“EIGHT!”

Frisk bounced on their toes, twirling their sparkler with anticipation and delight. With their free hand, they lifted Flowey’s pot higher, giving the grumpy flower a perfect view of the sky.

Flowey groaned, his petals twitching with exaggerated disdain. “Oh, joy. More loud noises and explosions. What a delightful way to start another year of nonsense.”

Frisk tilted their head, their bright smile widening. With a mischievous flick of their sparkler, they sent a harmless shower of golden sparks near Flowey’s pot, earning an indignant huff.

“Watch it!” Flowey snapped, though his petals relaxed just slightly, his irritation softened by Frisk’s quiet joy.

“SEVEN!”

Toriel and Asgore exchanged a glance across the courtyard. The weight of their shared history lingered between them, bittersweet and unspoken. Toriel hesitated, then gave Asgore a small, reluctant nod. He returned it with a soft, hopeful smile.

“SIX!”

You turned to Sans, your heart giving a small leap when you realized his gaze was already on you. His eye lights glowed faintly, reflecting the golden sparks that danced through the crisp night air.

“FOUR!”

“hey,” he said, his voice nearly drowned out by the noise, “gotta say… this year’s been somethin’ else. all thanks to you.”

“THREE!”

Your breath caught, the quiet sincerity in his words wrapping around you like the warmth of a blanket against the cold. 

You managed a smile, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“TWO!”

Sans leaned closer, his breath feathering against your cheek. His voice was barely audible over the rising cheers as he whispered, “happy new year, sunshine.”

“ONE!”

The courtyard erupted into cheers, and the first firework exploded overhead, scattering brilliant streaks of gold and crimson across the night sky.

The sound echoed faintly, but it all seemed distant as Sans’ hand rose to your cheek, his grin fading into something sweeter just before his mouth met yours.

The kiss was soft and unhurried, as if the entire year had been leading up to this single, fleeting moment. His touch held a quiet reverence—the kind of tenderness that felt rare and delicate—like you were something fragile, something he wasn’t quite ready to let go of. His palm stayed warm against your skin, thumb tracing gentle circles as though committing every detail to memory.

There was no urgency, only the gentle weight of emotions unspoken—words he’d never say aloud but conveyed in the way he held you.

The crackle of fireworks and the cheers of your friends faded away, replaced by the quiet thrill of his closeness. For all his jokes and lazy smirks, this moment felt different. Unguarded. Carrying with it the quiet emotion he so often kept hidden from the world.

When you finally parted, the world rushed back in a cascade of color and sound. His forehead rested against yours for a moment longer, his grin returning—soft and lopsided, but with a depth that made your heart flutter.

“guess that’s one resolution down,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with affection.

You blinked, still breathless, a smile tugging at your lips. “And what was that?”

“makin’ this year better than the last,” he replied, his grin widening slightly. “and makin’ sure you keep yours.”

His words hung in the air, warm and grounding. Before you could respond, Papyrus’ voice broke through the haze.

“SANS! Y/N! DID YOU SEE THAT FIREWORK? IT WAS SHAPED LIKE A SPAGHETTI NOODLE! ABSOLUTELY MAGNIFICENT!”

You both laughed, the moment dissolving into a shared grin. Sans slipped his hand into yours, his thumb brushing lightly along your knuckles as he turned to Papyrus.

“heh, trust pap to turn the fireworks into a pasta thing.” He glanced at you, his grin widening mischievously. “any more of those and i might just pasta way.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you gave him a playful shove. “You’re impossible.”

“nah,” he countered with a wink, “just im-pasta-ble to resist.”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you let him tug you back toward the others. The soft glow of the fireworks cast shifting patterns of light across the courtyard, their brilliance reflected in Sans’ steady gaze. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t such a bad way to start the year.

[fireside-fanfics]

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

The snow in Jackson fell in soft, steady waves, blanketing the town in a pristine white that made everything look like it belonged in a storybook. Joel Miller, however, wasn’t feeling particularly whimsical as he stood at the window, arms crossed, watching his girlfriend Campbell wrap herself in layers of scarves and mittens.

“You’re really gonna drag me out in that?” he asked, his gruff voice laced with mock protest.

Campbell turned to him with an impish grin, her eyes alight with mischief. “Yes, I am. And you’ll love it. Trust me.”

He huffed, pulling his coat off the hook by the door. “I ain’t built for this kinda cold. Texas doesn’t prepare you for it.”

Campbell reached out to fix the collar of his coat, her fingers brushing against his neck. “Stop complaining. You’re tougher than you let on. Besides, you’ve got me to keep you warm.”

Joel bit back a smile as she led him outside. The snow crunched under their boots as they walked through the quiet streets, the air crisp and biting. The world felt still, except for the occasional sound of laughter from children playing nearby.

“Alright, what’s your plan?” Joel asked, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

“First,” she said, bending down to scoop a handful of snow, “we’re having a snowball fight.”

He barely had time to react before she hurled the snowball at him, hitting him square in the chest. Campbell burst into laughter as he stood there, stunned.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” he muttered, scooping up his own handful of snow.

The fight was on. They darted around trees and ducked behind fences, their laughter echoing through the cold air. Joel feigned annoyance every time she landed a hit, but his heart swelled at the sight of her, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. She looked so alive, so happy, and he couldn’t help but fall a little harder for her in that moment.

After an impressive sneak attack that left him brushing snow out of his hair, he called a truce. “Alright, alright. You win.”

“I always do,” Campbell teased, brushing snow off her mittens. “Now let’s build a snowman.”

Joel followed her lead, rolling large mounds of snow across the ground to form the base. He grumbled about the cold seeping through his gloves, but she noticed the way he carefully shaped the snow, his concentration almost childlike. When they finished, the snowman stood tall, complete with a scarf and a crooked smile made from pebbles.

“Not bad for your first try,” she said, leaning into him.

“Not bad?” he scoffed. “That’s a masterpiece.”

Campbell laughed, the sound warm and infectious. But the chill in the air was beginning to settle in her bones, and she shivered despite her layers. Joel noticed immediately.

“Here,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. “Can’t have you freezing to death on me.”

“What about you?” she asked, her voice soft.

“I’ll manage,” he said, brushing a stray snowflake from her hair. “‘Sides, I’m tougher than I let on.”

Campbell smiled up at him, her heart swelling with affection. The snow began to fall again, gentle and quiet, and the world around them seemed to fade away. Joel reached for her hands, holding them between his own to warm them. His touch was rough but careful, and she felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the layers she was wearing.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and earnest.

Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her, his lips warm against the cold of hers. Snowflakes landed on their cheeks and melted between them, but neither of them noticed. The world could have stopped spinning, and they wouldn’t have cared.

When they finally pulled apart, Campbell rested her forehead against his, a soft smile playing on her lips. “See? Told you you’d love it.”

Joel chuckled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Maybe I’ll admit it. But only because of you.”

Hand in hand, they walked back home, leaving a trail of footprints in the snow and a snowman standing guard as a testament to their day. For the first time in a long time, winter didn’t feel so cold.

[lostintransist]

I've cried a lot today and just really want someone to care and have the power to make things easier... So platonic more on you hating getting frustrated with the people when they care for you, platonic this time since I am in no head space for romance.

Other head canons (romantic) linked here.

Sebastion Krueger:

“Krueger, one of your recruits is not doing well.”

Saffron stares at him at him from the doorway. Kreuger pinches his brow through his hood. He had only just sat down after deplaning from a hard job. Blood still crusted to his wrist where his shirt had shifted from his gloves.

“Right, show me where.” The office chair squeaked as he stood.

Saffron gave no response other than to turn and lead Krueger down the hall of the base. The dreary grey walls lined with plaques each with a name, a date, and a place of loss or last known communication. KorTac paid well. They had to for the constant additions to the wall of death as the recruits called it. The walk to you took far longer than Krueger expected. If he didn’t know Saffron’s tracking skills he would wonder if this was an excuse to remove him from his office for a time.

In the back corner of the building sits a nearly empty closet, the door is opened the barest crack. Shallow, heaving breaths escape through the narrow opening.

“Go. I will handle.”

Kreuger steps into the darkness, eyes categorizing the shapes to avoid stepping on you. Once he assesses the situation he sits. His knees creak as he settles his back against the wall. You don’t seem to notice the toe of your boots are firmly digging into his ass cheeks. His feet rest outside your hips.

He moves his hood up and away as he taps one side and then the other. He lights up a cigarette. The spark of his lighter shows you. Fingers gripping your hair so tight it lifts the skin from your scalp and forearms covering your face you are stuck in whatever world your mind and body have created to spite you.

Sitting with you takes a long time to calm down. He can tell when it is starting to take effect when you cough. You were an odd recruit. You were the only one he had trained in nearly ten years that did not smoke. Told him once that nicotine tasted like tar and didn’t make you feel better, so why subject yourself to it?

He liked you. Krueger couldn’t say that about most of the people he served with. That is why he continued to tap away. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Cough.

Your short heaving breaths were replaced with rib-crushing coughing and a hand waving in front of your face.

“Kreuger what the hell,” you coughed again. “Don’t you know not to smoke in buildings?”

Continuing to cough you could not tell him off for lifting your foot and snuffing out his cigarette on the bottom of your boot.

“Good, you are back.” He lets you pull your ankle from his hold and uses your other knee to lift himself from the ground. Holding out an expectant hand he speaks again. “Come.”

Confusion explains the delay but Krueger, already delayed in his mountain of paperwork, reaches down and pulls you to standing by your wrist. He doesn’t release you at your yelp of surprise or when you tug back. You nearly dislocate your elbow trying, and then trip over your own feet. He says not a word to you until you are tossed through the door to medical before him.

“Treat them,” he stated to your shocked face. “Anxiety, panic attacks, nutritional deficiencies, emotional support.”

He watched cooly from his position atop the stilts he called legs. When neither you nor the staff moved fast enough for his liking he tilted his head to the side enough to indicate displeasure and sent everyone scrambling. Krueger waited for you. He waited as a meal replacement shake was shoved in one hand and mental health evals in the other.

When you eventually left medical he walked you to your room.

“Light duty until medical clears you,” was all he said before he walked away, already wincing at the paperwork still waiting for him.

He refused any thanks you tried to give him, so instead you start carrying a lighter and a pack of his preferred cigarettes. Despite the lack of visual on his face, you can always tell when he is narrowing his eyes at you before plucking a single stick from the box.

Kate Laswell:

“Good night, Kate!”

She looks up blearily from her computer. Johnson, with his warm smile and clean fade, stands at the door of her office.

“Night Johnson, you have a safe trip home, okay?” Kate replies warmly.

“Always do boss. I would recommend checking the floor before you leave, I noticed a light on near the area where your newer staff are sitting,” Johnson tips his head back and to the left.

“Thanks, I’ll go check if someone left a light on. I’m about to head home. My wife said I’m only allowed to stay late two days this week. I’m not planning on using today as one of those days.”

Johnson chuckles before giving a jaunty salute and heading for the elevators. Kate stands, her hips sending sparks of pain up her back and down to her heels. God, no mentioned getting old could hurt like this.

She winced the first few steps out of her office until her left hip popped and Kate couldn’t prevent the gasp of shock and pain that escaped her mouth.

Your head popped up. You looked like a burrowing animal checking if death peered into your hole. Hands gently removed your headphones to settle around your neck.

“Did you need something, Laswell?”

Hand pressed to her left hip she limped closer to your desk.

“Yeah. Looks like I need help getting out of the building. My wife is expecting me and you need to get out of here.”

A stricken look passes over your face.

“I’m not done with my paperwork though-“

She cuts you off before you can say much more.

“Kid one thing you’re going to learn working here and on my team is that the paperwork will never end. It’s some kind of Sisyphusian hellscape.” She leans on the wall of your cubicle, “Don’t let the ink that never dries suck you dry.”

You look down over your desk, the three different case files open and miscellaneous other notes strewn across stickies. The swirling doubts about making it, learning enough to be good at the job, to not drown in the evil that leeches off the page and into your soul. It follows you home, the things you redact. You haven’t mentioned it. How can you? No one but your teammates would understand and sometimes you doubt it affected them the same.

“I think I’ll stay, get a bit more done,” you hedge.

“That’s not how this works. You are now under orders to help me down to my car and go home yourself. If I hear you arrive before eight tomorrow, I am going to make you leave at five. Hell and high water will come, don’t let it drag you down when it does.” Kate shifted, wincing with the movement. “Now grab your stuff, we’re going home.”

Her stern voice causes your spine to stretch, and your hands twitch to respond. Kate turned, stretching her leg as she walked. You did as she commanded, if nothing else she was your boss.

Bag slung over one shoulder you offer the other to Kate to limp to the elevator and into the bowels of the building to her car.

Leaning into the open door you give Kate your best impression of conformity.

“Have a good night Laswell. Drive safe.”

“You too. And I’m serious, go home. Get a hobby or a therapist. You’re going to need both to get through this job.” Her stern face doesn’t scare you as much in the stark light of the parking garage.

“Thanks, I’ll work on it.”

Pushing her door shut you think about her advice the long circular walk to your car. Maybe she knew how close you were to breaking. And maybe, her advice was solid.

Head Canon Masterlist | Masterlist

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Pillow Fight | Aedion x Reader

Summary: After all of Terassen is sick of the constant bickering between you and Aedion, Aelin sends you both out together on a quest to slay a beast, and not to return until you have its head. On the way, you are forced into a small inn room with him, only to find that it has…too many beds.

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Warnings: None! Other than a poor, poor salamander

A/N: This was entirely inspired by reverse trope prompts by @out-of-jams (tyyy), but I got a lil carried away, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

You two had been traveling nonstop, first through the ice-cold territory of the White Fang Mountains, then back to Annielle, then to Ellywe, all because Aelin had sent the two of you on some wild goose chase for a creature you were pretty sure by now that didn’t even exist.

Mainly because everyone in Terassen’s castle had grown tired of the hateful looks you and Aedion constantly threw at each other, or the shenanigans you pulled off just to piss him off, or the other way around. The both of you were the closest of rivals if not enemies, and maybe more.

Aelin had given you a look that clearly said, “Get your shit together before you come back.” And then promptly kicked you both out.

There had been a ward placed that stated neither of you could enter Terassen for more than a day until you returned with the head of the creature.

And so you two had ventured out, still glaring at each other, spitting hateful words and accusations.

And as you arrived inside the poor, shabby-looking inn you’d found in Innish and paid a few coins for a decent room, the little maid woman led the both of you to a room. She gave an apologetic look as she opened the door with the set of keys.

“It’s all we have,”

She said, opening the door and dropping the key in your hand before scurrying off back to the front desk where a bell now rang.

You and Aedion stepped inside, gaping at the room you now beheld in front of you.

“Holy fucking shit, that is a lot of beds.”

He swore viciously, mouth agape at what seemed like miles of beds in every shape and size before you. It shouldn’t, couldn’t, be possible. The room alone must’ve been bigger than the entire Inn at this rate, bigger than Innish itself maybe.

Miles of beds, blankets, and pillows of every manner.

“Goddamn..”

You muttered, and you and his eyes met, both bewildered, but with a temporary agreement in your gazes. A temporary peace treaty between you two, until you figured out what the hell was going on.

“Do you think we can-“

He asked, voice trailing off as he tried to open the door, turn the knob, but it didn’t so much as budge. His eyes went wider, panicking as you tossed him the key, and surely enough, it didn’t work. Aedion slammed his weight against the door, harder each time, but it didn’t move at all.

He glanced at you, eyes wide as he turned his back to the door, while you watched the bedding around you.

“Help me out here,”

He hissed, and you snapped out of it, but when you turned and began walking to where the door should’ve been, instead there was a mattress. Then, every wall you’d glanced from was now mattresses, the ceiling being mattresses, both of you trapped in an infinite bed-hell.

“Okay, maybe we just…ate something poisonous on the way here, and we’re hallucinating. Maybe we can sleep it off.”

You suggested, and though Aedion gave you a doubtful look, both of you were panicking and desperate for any solution at all. You were trapped. Completely, utterly trapped.

“Let’s..uh, build a shelter.”

He suggested in a gruff tone, despite the sheepishness in his face as you scowled.

“A pillow fort?”

You asked in a disbelieving tone, and he shot you a glare, beginning to pick up mattresses and make a base, for walls to settle into. Wherever the mattresses were taken, more appeared to settle into their place. You started helping, mattresses being tossed his way, some even whacking him on the head, purposefully most of the time.

It wasn’t long until you had a decent little structure built, somewhat like a giant gingerbread house made of beds. Pillows lined the insides, as well as a giant nest of blankets the both of you had made. Neither of you dared let go of your possessions or put anything down, in fear it might disappear completely.

He cleared his throat, sitting on the other edge of the giant nest, opposite from you. You raised a brow at him, and the words he seemed to be struggling to even get out. Swallowing what was left of his pride, he lifted a pillow in one hand and kicked one over to you, sheepishly smiling before he spoke.

“Wanna have a pillow fight? I mean, you don’t have to, but me and Aelin used to..and I just-“

His rambling was stopped very quickly as you grabbed a pillow and slung it over your shoulder, hitting him full speed in the face as he made a small “oomph” and laughed. He stood, and you did as well before the both of you were slinging pillows and mattresses and whatever else you could find in this place, previous hatred long forgotten as you both giggled and laughed like children, grinning and crying tears of laughter.

Pillowcases were everywhere, feathers too, and whatever else had been stuffing the inside of some of those pillows also spread across the inside of your fort by the end of it, both of you snorting in laughter and panting for breath as you lie side by side with each other.

“If I were as good with a sword as I am a pillow, it would be over for you, Aedion Ashryver.”

You huffed, though your insecurity with swordplay managed to sneak into your voice slightly. Maybe even your scent, as Aedion noticed it. You were an absolute wonder with a bow, but swords and daggers and all that? Hopeless.

“If I were as good with a bow as you are, it’d be over for everyone.”

He said, trying to make light of it, although he was insecure of his skills with a bow. He’d seen you at work before. He knew how to handle blades and swords and whatnot, but bows? He could barely aim straight.

Your face contorted in a small frown.

“Yeah, but you’re good as hell with a sword, anyway. Why would you need to handle a bow?”

You questioned, slight confusion contorting your features. Aedion only blinked, before frowning back and mimicking your question slightly.

“Well, you’re good as hell with a bow. Why would you need to handle a sword?”

You just blinked. A bit of discomfort crossed your face before you spoke, quieter than before.

“I dunno, it just seems like something I…should know. I guess I was just jealous of you.”

You begrudgingly admitted, and something in Aedion’s chest both warmed and panged with something else. He wasn’t used to seeing this side of you, vulnerable and exposed.

“I’m the sword guy, you’re the bow guy. I was a little jealous of your…bow-er-y, I guess.”

He admitted with a shrug, and the tension and hatred between you two lightened as if almost gone. It had just been jealousy keeping you two apart. You snorted at his words.

“You mean archery?”

“Oh, whatever.”

The both of you lay in silence for a moment, hands above your heads, bodies relaxed and stretched out as you just thought and stared into the roof of your mattress-fort. Eventually, he spoke first.

“Y’know, you aren’t that bad.”

He said, and you smirked, glancing over at him. He smirked back as you replied.

“Yeah, you aren’t that bad, either.”

It was then when it happened, the faint glow in the center of your blanket nest, more like a horde of blankets with how disheveled it was at this point. The pillow in the center, placed there so you two could prop your feet up in comfort, was faintly glowing.

Aedion was on it before you could touch it, carefully poking and prodding, before shrugging, more to himself than you, as he pulled a knife out and ripped it open. Inside the pillow, was none other than a decapitated salamander’s dried-up head.

You both cringed at it, even as you shifted up and spied the little note that fell from the inside of the pillow. Carefully picking it up, you read it aloud, glancing at Aedion first, and he listened.

“I’m overjoyed to know that you’ve found the mighty beast that’s been terrorizing Erilea for months, and that you’ve enjoyed your little outing, take your time coming home - Your favorite Queen.”

A salamander.

Everything they’d gone through, Aelin had sent them hunting for a goddamn salamander, just to set this up. As soon as you handed the note to Aedion, and he folded it into his pocket as well as the lizard, the room returned to what would be a normal Innish one. The pillow fort was gone, the miles of beds gone, only two normal-sized beds, creaky floorboards, a small bathroom with a tub, and whatnot.

“Oh, I am going to smite her for this-“

“Not if I can first!”

You and Aedion both burst out the door, now working normally by whatever magic Aelin had worked to make you two be trapped here until you weren’t insufferably hateful to each other anymore and practically flew from the streets of Innish, traveling as fast as you could back to Terassen, a certain hawk sometimes stalking your journey as if checking up on you.

Each time it left as soon as it had come.

You and Aedion were not only united in friendship now but also the urge to show Aelin just how pissed you both were about the stupid mission she’d sent them on. Though you both knew it was for your own good, and that you wouldn’t actually do anything.

[quillsandblades]

🔫 this is a robbery, hand over your post war Levihan headcanons (please 😊)

The world needs to know

Post war levihan gives me life ok, they're both alive and happy and together and no one spoils that for me. It's canon. Isayama who?

Congratulations, the robbery was a success and here's the loot

So after the Rumbling and the Battle of Heaven and the Earth, these two retire. First they recover in the hospital, Hange’s burn injuries and Levi’s leg and they take a break to just breathe and relax. 

Once they’re on their feet (and wheelchair) Hange drags Levi to travel as many places as they can go.

Queen Historia funds their visits (Hange somehow convinced her to allocate a budget for them cuz she wanted to see everything. And as they were heroes of the war and her parents former superiors, she agreed) and they travel a lot.  

But it’s not just going places and having fun, They plan on helping out in the rebuilding of the areas affected by the Rumbling too. They go around aiding in reconstruction and Hange helps the mechanics and engineers and learns things from them too. 

Levi distributes clothes, food, and lollipops to kids who love him. Hange later teases him for looking too long at the lollipop, “You remembered that clown right?”

“No, I was thinking about how you chased after cars in Marley with carrots in your hand.” And she gets all embarrassed, crying out how she was just so excited that she couldn’t stop.  

And he says fondly, “There’s no need to get defensive four-eyes, I was happy to see you so excited after months back then.” And she blushes because wtf?! When was Levi so romantic? But then again, he was. When she was about to sacrifice herself and he’d given her his heart. 

They don’t talk about this, nor her proposal in the forest. They don’t need to, not yet. They’ve both reached a stage of familiarity and comfort with each other throughout the years which doesn’t need any words. They both just know and they’re fine with it (levihan telepathy at its peak) 

They stay with the brats whenever they stop by in Paradis—or at the palace and help out with Historia’s orphanage. Eventually they decide to buy a house since they won’t be traveling forever. It’s a nice little cabin in the woods, just like Hange had dreamt of. 

It turns into a kind of summer house, or a place to stay in whenever they stop at Paradis and rest. They have it renovated, repainted and furnished and it becomes their own cozy little place. 

Levihan eventually settle down in their cabin for good once traveling constantly becomes too hectic. They’re used to sharing a bed by now, they did it all the time in their travels, and it comes with the much needed comfort of having someone familiar close by after waking up from nightmares. 

But that night feels different, they’ve finally settled down and this cabin is no longer a temporary lodging for their stays in Paradis, it’s on its way to become their house, their home. A safe place to relax and live in. Just like what Hange yearned for in the forest when she proposed they live here together

So Levi turns to her and sees her awake as well, staring at him. They both know that now words are needed to solidify this thing between them. But neither of them know how to proceed

Hange goes first, cuz Levi may be the strongest, he’s still not the bravest when it comes to certain things. So Hange talks, shapes out their feelings into words and sentences and each sits warmly upon them both like an extra blanket in the chilly night. And when she’s done, Levi just pulls her close and there’s too many words, feelings stuck in his throat, his mind but all he can say is “Yes. Me too.” And he just kisses her, and they hold each other all through the night. 

They look after each other’s injuries, he takes care of her burns, she helps him with exercises for his leg. Both of them are a bit conscious about their injuries. There are times when Hange looks at her scarred, burnt body and she feels broken, weak and just falls into despair. She asks Levi how he can stand looking at her, how can he put up with her, does he want to? She’s not enough. 

But he takes her face in his hands and tells her she’s more than enough. And he places her hand on his own knee, the injured one and looks into her eye. It’s one of those levihan telepathy moments where he tells her with his eyes we’re both broken, you’re there for me and I’m here for you, so we’re each other’s crutches. 

Once again, they’re like two halves of a whole. Even after the war, with their flawed bodies and capabilities, they fit in together perfectly. She’s there as his support when he needs to walk and he’s there as the soothing balm to her burning scars. They don’t need anyone else. 

Things have changed, and now it’s Hange who helps Levi take a bath. She’s careful with him and Levi would tell her to wash his hair again and again, he likes how her fingers feel in his head. But the roles haven’t completely switched, he’d still drag her for a bath as well since she always neglects it. 

Levi is the cuddler.

While they both naturally wake up at the crack of dawn due to years of army training drilled into them, there are days they hold back and relax. But on those days Hange's usually the one who wants to jump out of bed first, there's just so much to do, how can she waste her day in bed? But it's levi who pulls her back and buries his face in her shoulder and cages her in his warm sleepy embrace and says, "Stay still four-eyes, those seedlings aren't going anywhere." And he just. Cuddles.

Hange goes wild in the garden, she plants all that she can get her hands on and Levi goes around ordering her to arrange it all neatly. And his help is needed, otherwise their garden would’ve been a terrible mess. He makes sure there are neat sectors to all the things, vegetables at one side and fruits at the other. 

“I’m telling you shorty, tomatoes are fruits! We’re not planting them on the veg side.” 

Levi’s got a side of the garden all for himself where he grows tea and he cherishes his little tea garden. Whenever Hange comes across any exotic or new species of tea, she makes sure to get plenty of seeds for Levi to plant. 

She goes about experimenting with plants and seeds, she does grafting and makes hybrid seeds and plants them to observe the results. They have plenty of land around the cabin and she’s got all the time in the world now. She also tries to make hybrid species of flowers. 

She works together with Levi and does the same things with tea. They end up opening a tea shop and Levi tells her it was once his dream as a kid. It gets a lot of customers, and it keeps Levi and Hange busy. Hange continues to experiment with tea and they get the most unique blends that way. Eventually they add a few other things to the menu but their tea remains the most famous one in Paradis.   

The 104th often visit their home or the shop. Armin’s often at their place, asking Hange for commander advice and they talk politics for long hours. 

Mikasa prefers the tea shop more, it’s a cozy, comfortable place, not too quiet, and not too loud. It suits her mood and the aroma of tea calms her down. Levi would often find her asleep in one of the cushy armchairs and just throw a blanket over her if it’s cold. She doesn’t like to go back home since it’s mostly empty and quiet (and she misses Eren, we don’t blame her) so Levihan often invite her over to their place. By now they’ve practically made the second guest room as Mikasa’s bedroom. She often spends the nights there and when she can’t sleep she comes out and sits on the porch. 

Levihan also have sleepless nights, so when their daughter she’s staying over they all gather outside or in the living room and have hot tea and talk to forget their worries. It’s a good way to keep unwanted memories away for all of them. The morning finds them all asleep on the carpet, Levi and Hange leaning into each other, Mikasa with often her head on Hange’s lap. 

Jean and Connie visit a lot as well, and whenever the 104th all come together, Hange makes sure they all stay the night no matter how much Levi grumbles about them being too noisy. She brushes off his complaints, he was always an old man hiding away from fun and excitement. 

They have drinking games on the porch and Hange and Levi get a lot of dares to kiss each other. They kids were always betting on them to get together, and now that they officially are, they wanna see all the proof they can get. Plus it’s good to see their tough captain all red faced and embarrassed. 

Whenever their Marley friends visit, Levi and Hange go meet them. Gabi and Falco get along surprisingly well with Levi, they steal him away from Hange for the day and zoom around the city with his wheelchair. He pretends to complain. Pretends. 

Pieck, Onyankopon and Hange get along the best together. They always fill her in about the situation of the world, the aftermath of the war. It starts out with just people collecting the pieces after the rumbling and focusing on rebuilding everything. But over the years as the states get stronger Hange and Levi get news about more conflicts, more schemes, no war in sight but the usual political disagreements and disunity. It saddens her how quickly humans revert back to their divided state, fighting once more over land or money or people. 

Pieck tells them they don’t have anything to worry about. They’ve retired, all they gotta do is enjoy the rest of their lives.  

Hange wants to write about their dead comrades, document everything about their lives within the walls and outside them, their training and the survey corps. She wants their memories to remain and Levi agrees on that. So they begin, it turns into a book with a few volumes. Hange writes down all she and Levi can remember and fills the pages with their friends’ laughter, tears and blood. The war and Paradis’ side of the story behind the genocide. 

It gets published and it’s a hit. People around the world would eventually read it (but by that time Levi and Hange would probably be dead) and it’s one of the crucial things that changes the views of the masses about the ‘Island Devils”

They talk about having children, Hange asks Levi if he wants any. The idea is nice, having a little brat of their own. But it turns out they’re too tired to manage a baby and the crying and wailing that comes with it and the attention it would demand. Besides they already do have children, the brats from the 104th. 

Perhaps if they were younger and had lived different lives, they would’ve been more serious about it. But not here. Now they’ve survived through hell and want to be selfish with the rest of their lives. And they are. 

💚💜

[ihave-atummyache]

Idk if u write poly fics but if u do,

2min × reader fluff pls 😔

i dont really write or read poly stuff bc im literally the most jealous person i know (see why i write jealous skz sm) and the thought of sharing anyone with somebody else makes me… angry

BUT I TRY JUST FOR U ANNONY

especially bc the thought of 2min is just so yes that i cant breathe sometimes!

idk the word count on this but its just a cute lil fluffy blurb(?)

coffee stains

You let out a deep sigh as you walk toward your bedroom. Neither of your boyfriends are supposed to be home, both are busy with their schedules, and you want nothing more than to be held and babied after the day you just had.

You know those days that just feel like it’s one thing after another after another? Today was like that for you. It started when you spilled your coffee on your white blouse before you even left the house. Then you had to rush and change, which caused you to miss your bus, which made you late for work. Everything else just went downhill from there.

You push the door to your bedroom open and you can’t stop the small smile that creeps onto your face when you lay your eyes on Seungmin in your bed.

“Baby? What are you doing here?” You speak up and he looks up from his phone when he notices you in the doorway.

“Didn’t want to see me? I’m hurt,” he teases and sits up when you walk around the bed and approach him.

“I always want to see you, Minnie. I just thought you had late schedules,” you speak out, your voice is obviously drained and he quickly picks up on it.

Seungmin’s arms wrap around you, pulling you down on top of him in the bed. You let out a squeak and a little chuckle. He is the type that hates when people have on outside clothes in the bed so the fact he doesn’t care right now really proves how well he knows you and knows exactly what you need.

“Mm. The weather turned bad so we had to reschedule,” he mumbles into the top of your head before placing a kiss in your hair. You let out a sigh and wrap your arms around his torso tighter.

You look over and on your side table, seeing your blouse from this morning. It’s folded up neatly and there’s no signs of coffee on it at all. You gasp and sit up quickly, grabbing the top and facing your boyfriend.

“You didn’t,” Your mouth falls agape and a shy smile covers Seungmin’s face, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your hips.

“I did. I saw it on the floor when I came home and figured you spilled on yourself before you went to work,” he replies and your smile on your face quickly fades, replaced by a quivering lip. Seungmin’s smile drops and he sits up, abruptly, your legs still on either side of his thighs.

“Baby?” The soft tone in his voice is enough to make the tears fall down your face and you drop your head into your hands, soft sobs leaving your mouth.

“Making her cry, again?” You hear Minho’s voice from the ensuite bathroom and turn to look at him. He’s towel drying his damp hair and has a pair of sweatpants with a tank top.

“I didn’t do anything! And don’t say again. If anyone makes her cry, it’s you,” Seungmin sticks his tongue out at Minho and you can’t stop the soft, pitiful chuckle that leaves your mouth, although the tears are still streaming.

Minho crosses the room and settles on the bed next to Seungmin. He rests his hand on your thigh, drawing shapes into the skin.

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” He speaks up and you shake your head, wiping at your face. The more you wipe the tears, the more that fall from your eyes and its just hopeless.

“I just had such a bad day today,” your voice cracks as another sob racks through your chest and creeps out of your mouth. You lean over, wrapping your arms around Minho’s neck and burying your face in his shoulder.

He scoots closer to you since you’re still sitting on Seungmin’s lap, to try to make the angle more comfortable but you couldn’t care less. You already felt better by being able to get some tears out and being in the presence of your two amazing boyfriends.

You scoot off of Seungmin’s lap and squeeze your body between the two boys. You turn your back on Seungmin, grabbing his hand to wrap around your torso before wrapping your own arms around Minho’s waist.

“I just want to lay here for the rest of the night,” you mumble into Minho’s shirt. Minho places a hand in your hair, gently stroking it and Seungmin’s hand is rubbing your stomach gently before you feel Seungmin’s presence leave from behind you.

“Where are you going?” you peak up from Minho’s shirt and Seungmin’s back is to you, digging through your drawers. He pulls out one of his old t-shirts (that you stole) and a pair of your sleep shorts before making his way back over to you.

“If we’re going to lay here for the rest of the night, might as well get comfortable,” he offers you a soft smile and you unwrap yourself from Minho to sit up.

Before you can stand, Minho’s hands are under your sweater and pulling it over your head. He unclasps your bra and reaches his hand out to Seungmin. The younger hands him the t-shirt and Minho turns his attention back to you.

“Arms up,” he commands with a soft smile and you obey, lifting your arms in the air. Minho pulls the shirt over your head and down your torso before he’s unbuttoning your skirt as well.

“Lift your hips for me, baby,” his tone is so soft that you feel like you could start crying again. You lay back on the bed and lift your hips. He pulls your skirt down and your underwear before Seungmin is at your ankles and pulling the shorts up your legs. Once they’re settled on your hips, Seungmin scoots back down your body and places a gentle kiss to the inside of either one of your knees.

His hands pull your socks off of your feet and he places a kiss on the inside of either of your ankles as well before he stand again and heads to the bathroom. You hear him dig through a drawer before he’s back at your side and has a makeup wipe in his hand.

“May I?” His tone is just as soft as Minho’s. Instead of replying, you close your eyes and let your head loll towards him. He gently starts to wipe away your makeup from the day.

Your hand absentmindedly makes its way into Minho’s lap, resting against his inner thigh. His fingers trace gentle patterns up and down your arm, giving you chills but also relaxing you at the same time.

“You’re so beautiful and talented. We’re so proud of you and you’re doing so well,” Seungmin’s voice speaks up and your eyes slowly open. He leans down, his thumb stroking your cheek gently, and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You sniffle and let out a sigh.

“Do you think i’m pretty even when I’m all puffy from crying?” You ask and he immediately nods.

“Beautiful. I don’t think you can ever not be beautiful,” He confesses and you feel a blush creep up your neck.

“I agree. And you are doing so well, baby,” Minho’s voice sounds and you turn your head to face him.

“But I haven’t done anything,” your voice is quiet and a smile creeps onto Minho’s face.

“Even if you just breathed today, you’re doing well,” he smiles and you can’t help the soft laugh that leaves your mouth.

“Quoting yourself now?” you tease and Seungmin sits on the bed beside you, flipping the T.V on.

“He thinks he’s being philosophical,” Seungmin whispers to you, clearly loud enough for Minho to hear.

“You’re just jealous that I’m smarter than you,” Minho defends and Seungmin laughs.

“Yeah. Older and wiser. Much older,” he teases Minho. He reaches over and tussles Seungmin’s hair, obviously annoying him.

“Hey!” Seungmin complains but before they can continue their banter anymore, you catch them off guard. You let out a loud laugh. The first genuine laugh since you’ve been home.

“You two can turn around even the worst days,” you smile up at them and you notice the blush creeping up both of their ears, “Now put on a corny movie and lay with me,” you conclude and they both nod.

Minho scoots down and lets you lay your head on his chest while Seungmin picks some random movie. He also scoots down the bed and wraps an arm around you, spooning you. His fingers play with the hem of Minho’s shirt and Minho’s other hand is drawing shapes into Seungmin’s arm.

“I love you,” you breathe out, breaking the comfortable silence after a few minutes.

“I love you more,” they both reply in unison and you chuckle to yourself before letting your eyes fall closed, relaxing completely in your boyfriends’ arms.

[fikeoff]

A serenade under the stars

Dominic Fike had always been a mystery to you, his soulful eyes and cryptic lyrics drawing you in from the first moment you heard him sing. Tonight, though, he was more than just a distant star; he was your date.

The night was warm, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient oak tree that dominated the small park where you'd agreed to meet. You arrived a bit early, your heart fluttering with anticipation. The park was empty, save for the chirping crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl. The soft glow of fairy lights strung up along the pathway added a magical touch to the scene.

As you waited, you thought about how you’d met Dominic. It was at a small, intimate concert in a cozy venue downtown. You were in the front row, swaying to the rhythm of his music when your eyes met. There was an unspoken connection, a spark that neither of you could ignore. After the show, he approached you, and the rest was history.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Dominic approaching. His footsteps were light, almost soundless, but the moment he saw you, his face lit up with a radiant smile. “Hey there,” he said softly, his voice like honey in the night air.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. His presence was overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

Dominic took your hand gently and led you to a blanket spread out under the oak tree. “I thought we could do something special tonight,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. From behind the tree, he pulled out a guitar, its polished wood gleaming in the moonlight.

Your heart skipped a beat. “You’re going to play for me?” you asked, almost breathless with excitement.

“Only if you want me to,” he replied with a grin, settling down on the blanket and patting the spot beside him.

You sat down, your heart racing. Dominic started strumming the guitar, the familiar chords of one of your favorite songs filling the night air. His voice was even more captivating up close, each note resonating deep within you. As he played, he kept his eyes locked on yours, creating an intimate bubble that made the rest of the world disappear.

When the song ended, you couldn’t help but applaud, a broad smile stretching across your face. “That was amazing, Dom.”

He chuckled, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m glad you liked it. But I have one more surprise.”

From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small, wrapped box. Your eyes widened in surprise as he handed it to you. “Open it,” he urged, his excitement infectious.

You carefully unwrapped the box to find a delicate silver bracelet inside, a small charm shaped like a guitar hanging from it. “Dominic, it’s beautiful,” you gasped, tears of joy welling up in your eyes.

He took the bracelet and gently fastened it around your wrist. “I wanted you to have something to remember tonight by,” he said softly, his fingers lingering on your skin.

Tears of happiness filled your eyes as you looked up at him. “I’ll never forget this night,” you whispered.

Dominic leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “Neither will I,” he murmured.

The two of you stayed there under the stars, talking and laughing until the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon. It was a night of pure magic, a memory that you knew would stay with you forever, just like the bracelet on your wrist and the song in your heart.

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 - 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 5:

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1k

𝙖/𝙣: yes, this is scheduled 🥺 long before i will leave

𝙩/𝙬: tiny angst, hyunjin and minho cry, soft tickles

𝒍𝒆𝒆: hyunjin

𝙡𝙚𝙧: chan, jeongin, minho

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s🖤

The second the movie ended, Minho, Jeongin, and Chan headed to the kitchen, intent on pouring some water for themselves before heading to bed.  

“Hyunjin?” Chan circled the couch, finding the dancer scrunched in one spot on the corner of the sofa. Kkami ran up to him and nudged his leg. 

“Hyune? Is he there?” Minho followed the leader, Jeongin lurking behind him. They lifted the blanket lightly to check on the boy, shocked to find tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes on their lively dancer’s face. 

“Oh, Hyune…” Minho sighed, struggling to lift Hyunjin into his arms; he knew the younger didn’t enjoy sleeping on the couch. 

Once the dancer was comfortably situated in his arms, he headed back to his room, nestling Hyunjin onto some soft blankets and settling his head on a pillow. 

The others didn’t even have the mind to tease Minho; they were more worried about Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin shifted, cracking one eye open. Minho looked down at him sympathetically and pounced, hugging Jinnie tightly and pressing small kisses to his previously tear-stained face. 

“Hyung…” Hyunjin’s voice cracked as tears began to fill his eyes at the affection. 

Chan and Jeongin ran to get the poor boy some water. 

Minho sniffled a bit as his heart panged painfully. My poor baby…

Hyunjin glanced down at his hyung, a pout on his lips as he watched the first tear drip off of Minho’s cheek…

….and onto his neck. 

—————————

“What else should we get?” Chan asked, entering Minho’s room to grab the boy’s Jiniret plush. 

“Mch, where is it?” He groaned, opening drawers haphazardly and finally finding the plush inside one. 

“Aha!” Channie exclaimed, looking down and pausing. A brush…the same brush they had used on Hannie earlier. 

—————————

“Awh…hyung…” Jeongin sighed, watching as Hyunjin pulled Minho’s now very wet face into his chest, wiping his own tears off of his face. 

“Hyune…J-Jinnie…” Minho took the boys cheeks in his own. “I’m so s-sorry that you’re struggling.” He hiccuped, stopping to wipe his face again. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t h-help you…”

Hyunjin shook his head and cradled the kitten in his arms, to which Minho kissed his forehead gently. The kitten’s fingers fell to the dancer’s forearms, tracing along the skin gently, as a means of comfort. 

But of course, Hyunjin was too sensitive for that. 

“H-Hyung.” Giggles bubbled up in his throat. “Plehehease!!” He threw his head back. 

“Oh? Is something wrong, Jinnie?” Minho whispered into his ear, and poor Hyune gasped at the tickly feeling, squirming a little but liking it a little too much to move. 

“Nohoho!!” Hyune giggled sweetly, squealing when he suddenly felt something rough brush against his side. 

Minho looked down in surprise, noticing how Chan grasped a very familiar shape, moving it around under the dancer’s shirt. 

“AGHA—hahaha!! Thahat REHEALLY tickles!!” Jinnie exclaimed, squeezing his eyes shut when Minho scooted further down and pulled his shirt up, allowing Chan’s wrist to continue its ministrations. 

“I don’t think we should go roughly right now.” Jeongin chirped in the middle; he was curiously scratching at a sensitive spot on Hyunjin’s forearm, which had the dancer squirming left and right. 

“Me neither. Don’t worry, baby. We won’t turn it too high.” Minho gently took the brush from Chan, setting it on its lowest setting. 

He pressed the buzzing brush agaisnt Hyunjin’s tummy, and the boy squeaked immediately, giggled falling from his lips in a harmony that the others had missed. 

“Ahahahaha!! Ihihi lihihihike ihihit!!” Hyune admitted, and the others’ hearts almost exploded at the cute confession. 

Jeongin trailed his fingers up and down Hyunjin’s arms, Chan working his fingers into  his legs, mainly his ankles and calf. Hyunjin was just sensitive everywhere, allowing him to stutter some pleas through loud giggles that racked his whole body. 

Minho used one finger in the younger’s belly button, dragging the brush tool along Hyune’s exposed torso side. 

“Ohoho my gahahahahad!! Ihit feheheelss sohoho tihihihinglyyy!!” Hyune squealed, trembling from all the torturously light sensations. 

“It’s supposed to, Hyunjinnie. God, you’re so cute, aren’t you?” Channie cooed, the praise making Hyunjin’s face heat up.

Minho circled the tool around Hyunjin’s belly, while Jeongin gently traced along his thighs, and Hyunjin was shaking hard, giggles flowing out of him desperately as he squirmed away from the sensation.

Hyunjin squirmed left and right as tears dropped down his cheeks, a squeal emanating from him when the tool was stuck over his belly button, causing him to let out tiny squeaks of laughter.

“Thahhahahat tihihihickles tooo muhuhuhuch!!”

Minho giggled a bit from the dancer’s confession, only continuing until poor Hyune tapped out, tears soaking his cheeks again, but this time from happy laughter instead of the thoughts that had plagued his spirit. 

“Okahahahay!! I cahahahant tahahake ihit anhymohohore!!” 

The three men let up, now smothering Hyunjin in kisses and hugs and giggles, making sure the boy knew how much they loved him, and how much support he truly had.